Creepypasta & Slasher Oneshots

1. Jason Voorhees pt.2

WARNINGS

Mentions of Blood, Mentions of Death, Mentions of vomit, Mature Language.

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Everything was dark, you couldn't tell if your eyes were shut or if you were blindfolded. Your dry lips parted enough for a pained sound to escape. It was quiet and your voice rasped when you tried using it. Slowly waking up more you realized your eyes were shut. You opened them only to be met with a dirty, bloody, wooden floor. You were confused at first yet everything eventually came back to you the longer you laid on the ground utterly exhausted. Your brain kept circling back to Danny, you hoped he escaped. You also hoped that since by some miracle you were still alive that you could make it out alive.

You weakly lifted yourself from the floor and onto your hands and knees, pausing to gasp for air. All the cuts and bruises from your fight with the unknown man stung like a bitch. You noticed your hunting knife was discarded in the wall. Like the man stabbed the wall before leaving in a hurry. You pulled yourself to your feet with the help of the overturned sofa. Stumbling in your stride you yanked the knife from the wall and left through the open door of the cabin. That's when you heard it, sirens. God you pray that Danny is coming back for you. You stumbled down the porch steps and sat on the bottom step. Even though your mind felt refreshed from the nap your body was extremely sore and protested any further movement.

However while you waited your mind floated back to what Danny had said about Tim's last story. A drowning kid? It sounded familiar but you refused to believe you were supposed to stay in the famed Camp Blood. Formerly known as Camp Crystal Lake. You would rather believe something like everyone was pranking you or you were dreaming and would wake up for real soon. You lean your head against the railing to the stairs and refuse to close your eyes as the sounds of tires rolling on the worn dirt get louder. They weren't fast enough. You felt someone grab you from behind and throw you over their shoulder. The knife fell from your grip as you weakly fought, managing to let out one raspy scream before choked sobs filled the forest. You had one rather large but shallow cut across your midsection that all your weight was pressed on.

You recognized the tattered jacket that clung tightly to the man's shoulders. It was your attacker, your weak hits to the man's back stopped as you just gave up. You weren't sure why he wasn't killing you but you didn't like the thoughts that consumed your mind. He began taking long strides into the forest and through the trees you could faintly see the bright red and blue lights. You tried screaming but nothing came out. Eventually you went unconscious again.

Jason himself wasn't sure why he kept you alive. It could be because you hadn't done anything he considered 'bad people' to do. This including drinking, smoking, and sex. You even protected the other girl from the twins teasing, then saved Danny from getting killed. Maybe he kept you because you were selfless? Perhaps he was amused with the fight you had put up against him in the cabin. He wasn't sure and his mother wasn't entirely either. She was split, on one end you had hurt Jason in self defense. On the other you were a generally good, selfless, and accepting person. Jason trudged into the worn and rotting makeshift shelter and set you on an old, torn mattress. He had little supplies lying around for normal human care but tried his best to patch up the cuts he inflicted upon you.

Eventually you had begun to stir from your unconscious state. You blink a few times before opening your eyes and scanning the room you were in. You slowly sat up a hand immediately shooting out to cradle your stomach as you felt bile come up your throat. You lean over to the side of the mattress and release your stomach's contents. Your mind barely registered the hand pulling your hair away from your face and neck to eliminate some heat. Your throat felt raw and scratchy and staring at the semi-digested vomit made you even more sick.

You felt a tug on your hair that wasn't gentle but wasn't rough either. You look up to see your previous assailant handing you a bottle of water. The gesture confused you, but you were still grateful. You had just about chugged the bottle when you noticed your cuts were bandaged. Poorly, but bandaged nonetheless. You furrowed your eyebrows in confusion, wasn't he just trying to kill you a couple hours ago? Twisting the lid back onto the bottle you glanced warily at the man. He now took residence in a chair in the opposite corner of the room, staring at you intensely. You wanted to ask why he hadn't killed you but refrained from doing so in case he was set off by the question.

Clearing your throat you tested your voice, "thank you." The man- or rather you assumed Jason- tilted his head before standing up. Reflexively you flinched unsure whether or not he would hurt you. Jason seemed to notice though and stopped mid-stride. When he started walking again he was slower, as if he was attempting to comfort you. A famed serial killer comforting his victim? Funny. You didn't laugh though, your mind too clouded by the fear this intimidating male induced without even trying.

He left the room and you let out a breath you hadn't been sure you were holding. Your eyes never left the door as you shivered from the draft that came through the cracked walls. Your fingers absentmindedly played with the edges of your bandages. You noticed that while he left silently he made sure to make some noise on his way back. To scare you or in hopes of not alarming you, only he knew. When he came back though you noticed he carried a lightweight jacket, Sarah's jacket. Your body went stiff as he draped the clothing article over your shoulders and nudged the hand that was messing with the bandages. You muttered a sorry and pulled the jacket closer.

The jacket still smelt like the dead girl, the cheap vanilla perfume and old book smell lingering in the fabric. You sent a silent apology to Sarah for wearing the dead girl's jacket. Even if it was gifted to you by your captor you were sure you were disrespecting the dead. You hardly realized you had been crying until you noticed Jason's blurry figure crouched in front of you with the infamous head tilt. You couldn't bring yourself to fight when he cupped your cheek with his gloved hand. It felt comforting. You weren't sure why but it did. Maybe your brain was just fucked up from the traumatic events that transpired earlier. Just half a day ago you were fighting tooth and nail with this man, and now he was comforting you while you mourned the deaths of your friends?

"I'm fine," You muttered. Your voice was shaking and you weren't even sure you had said anything. Jason shrugged and moved his hand from your face to pat your head before leaving the makeshift shelter altogether. You were so confused, it just didn't make sense that you were still alive. Did he want something from you? God you hoped not. There really wasn't any reason for you to be alive, let alone in his dwelling. Even if he had left you to be picked up by police they would have assumed you were crazy and thrown you in the loony bin.

《 Time Skip 》

It had been a week that you were stuck inside this room. Jason never let you out of the room and when he left he would lock the door. You thought about breaking the thin walls but he only fed you enough to keep you alive. You assumed it was until he trusted you enough to not escape. He never pushed any boundaries you set and was overall very patient. If he hadn't killed your friends and attempted to kill you, you would dare to say he was very pleasant. Speak of the devil. The door rattled as it was unlocked and opened by the machete wielding man.

He had blood splattered on his mask but had otherwise clean clothes, a habit you noticed he had. He would come in with clean clothes on but seemingly forgetting to clean the mask. You watched as he set the blade by the door frame and came to sit on the end of the mattress. You pulled Sarah's jacket closer to your slimming frame, "Hello." It was rare when you would speak to him, most of the time you only said 'Thank you' after receiving a meal. He reached over and patted your head, another habit he had.

You took a deep breath and turned to meet your gaze with the eye holes of his mask. You gave a crooked smile before slowly reaching your hand out to him. You noticed he froze when you got close to his face but made no move to stop you just yet. You silently pat his head and quickly draw your arm back into your side as if he might lash out and cut it clean off. You watched and waited with baited breath for his reaction. His shoulders rose and fell at a faster rate as if he was silently laughing. Noticing this you relaxed almost entirely, thankful that he had no ill intent. Perhaps this was fine.

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Words: 1620

I decided to make a part two. Love constructive criticism♡