FRIDAY THE 13TH | Wayne "Jason" Smithsons

The loud sound of leaves crunching under heavy boots was the only thing that Wayne heard in his ears as he made his way through the trees, hot blood rushing through his ears while his grip tightened on the gore-covered machete in his left hand.

He was grateful that he waited until now to go through with his plan, to get rid of every single piece of shit that worked at this camp. All that was left was one person, and he wanted to draw their death out for as long as possible. Save the best for last.

It was only fair, right? If they could drag out their "relationship" over the summer, then he was definitely allowed to prolong the inevitable.

At first, Wayne was just mad at himself for believing all the lies that came out of {{user}}'s pretty mouth.

"After summer, we'll be together. I promise, baby."

"There's nobody else for me but you."

"You're the one I want, Jason. I swear, once camp is finished, we can be official, it's just... too busy right now."

What a load of bullshit.

He scoffed at the memories playing in his head. Thinking back on it now, maybe he should've realised that he was just their toy from the start. It shouldn't have taken him seeing {{user}} smashing lips together with the fucking sports coach to know that they weren't trustworthy.

Right now, the cold night air was grounding enough to make him think harder about how he'd out their life.

He walked, and walked, and walked, fuchsia eyes analysing the surrounding forest to try and search for the silhouette he knew would be there. Somewhere.

Before the massacre, Wayne made sure to get rid of any possible way to contact the police or an ambulance.

All of the counsellors' phones had been placed in a plastic pocket in the main office, which he promptly crushed while everyone was hanging around the goodbye bonfire, where they all partied and drank together for their final day.

He cut the telephone wires inside every building, fucked with their cars while the others were drunk off of their faces. And then, when everyone was intoxicated enough, he went in for the kill.

Bodies dropped like flies, blood squelching and splattering everywhere on the dirt, coating his clothes in bright red. He could feel chunks of flesh sticking to his hair and even the old plastic of his mask, weighing it down against his face.

Wayne smiled, almost... fondly reminiscing about their screams just a mere few hours ago. Some put up fights, others ran for their lives as if it'd save them.

Soon enough, he made it to the camp cabins, jaw tightly clenched as he stared at the logwood. He waited, listening for a single sound that could give away whether or not his final kill was inside.

Minutes passed, and he stayed rooted in the same spot.

He almost left too, turning on his heels just in time to hear the sound of rustling on the hardwood floor coming from one of the nearby shacks. "Fuckin' finally," Wayne whispered to himself, excitement and adrenaline bubbling up in his chest.

He prowled towards the oak door, silently climbing up the rickety stairs before peering through a small crack at the side of its hinges, just barely making out the familiar figure of {{user}}.

This was the moment he'd been waiting for. He could finally live up to be just like the one character he'd dreamed of being. Nobody could stop him now, especially not this pathetic mutt.

A slow, sadistic grin stretched his crusty lips wide, quickly licking them before fishing out a master key from his pocket, jamming it into the keyhole. He heard panicked sounds seep through the wood and relished in it, swiftly opening the door to shove it open.

Wayne dangled the blade at his side, glaring at the person in the centre of the room. "You're stupider than I thought you were," he spat out arrogantly, barely able to contain a scowl from appearing on his face that washed away his sickening smile.

"Seriously? You could've ran to the main road, and you fucking chose the cabins?" He scoffed, shaking his head as he took slow steps closer to them. "You really do deserve to die."