A kind Killer (Jason Voorhees x Reader)

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Nearly two weeks have passed since I got kidnapped. My mom got overprotective and didn't let me leave the house for days. Even though it's MY house.

"Mom I have to work." You stand in front of the backdoor, your mother standing in between, blocking your way to freedom. You loved your mom, no doubt about it, but she was starting to annoy you. She pretty much moved in without asking and watched your every move.

"Why do you need to go out for that? You're a writer, you can stay at home and I make you waffles. How does that sound sweetie?" She gave you a warm motherly smile.

You couldn't deny the fact that you love food with a passion, but didn't like getting treated like a baby. You exhaled frustrated and looked at her. "I need SPACE to think."

"Don't give me that look young lady. You would act the same, if your only child disappears without a trace, only to show up with a story like that." Tears start to fill her eyes. The guilt hit you hard and you immediately hugged her tight.

"I'm sorry mom. I didn't mean it like that. I love you ... and I understand you." You step back, still holding onto her arms, looking her directly into the eyes.

"You can't protect me from the world. Life can be cruel ...and beautiful in its on unique ways. I want to see and write about it. It's what I've always wanted. Will you please let me follow my passion?"

Your mother wiped her tears away, nodded and pulled you back into her arms.

"You're so brave and stubborn ... just like your dad." She smiles and let's go of you.

"Fine. I'll stop smotheering you and let you live your own life." She gave you a stern look and a kind smiley, while pointing a finger straight at your face. "But you can't keep me from calling you once in a while to check on you."

"I'm glad you understand. However ..." You grin mischievously. "I wouldn't mind to get those waffles before you leave." You both start laughing and prepare the food together.

You helped your mom pack her thinks and waved her goodbye. Seeeing her go made me feel sad. I quickly retrieved my composure and went back inside. Now that she's gone I can finally go back to my routine.

I go to the kitchen and grab my favorite drink and sit down. I didn't want to tell her that I'm still scared, she wouldn't have left. Every time a man walks up behind me, or simply looks at me I get nervous. I nearly kicked a dude in the nuts the last time I was at a grocery store. He only wanted to know where the milk is. I sigh. It will probably take a while before I can trust men again. I take a sip and think about my masked savior. What was his name again? 

~~~~~Flashback~~~~~

My mom informed the police about my return. They came and got me and the car full of evidence. I had to sit in an awfully uncomfortable chair. Their theory was that the men responsible for this, known by thename of 'Deadly Duet', put sleeping pills in my water bottle while I was at the gym. Two officers sat in front of me and asked a lot of questions. What was the first thing you remember? Where did everything happen? And of course: How where you able to escape? I told them what I knew. When I mentioned the name 'Camp Crystal Lake' (I read it on a road sigh) they gave each other a look I couldn't decipher. I proceeded and told them how I stabbed one of the attackers, which earned me a surprised look from the officers.

"A fine miss like you? Guess it's true what they say about roses having thorns." They chuckled and I rolled my eyes. I continued my story, but left out the part where I met the giant. He may be a killer, but he saved my life, so I felt like I owe him the favor to keep the cops of his ass. That's why I stayed as vague as possible.

"A masked man showed up and attacked my offender, thus saving my life."

Again they shared this look, but this time one of them asked: "Did this savior of yours happen to wear a hockey mask?"

This caught me of guard and I stuttered: "How d-did you kn ... N-no ... I-I mean ... Why do you ask?"

"Well you see miss, we get to hear a lot of stories about 'Camp Blood'. People try to become famous by telling everyone that they saw the hockey masked killer known as Jason Voorhees. But every time we search the place for him or his victims nothing is there. No corpses, no blood, no machete wielding psycho. Just some destroyed property."

I was furious. "Are you trying to tell me that I'm making this up?! That I'm lying about almost getting raped and murdered?! Do I really need to show you the hair and the eyes again?!"

They looked like they startled a witch and one of them quickly answered: "No miss. I'm sorry. Of course we believe that part. It's just that a stranger showing up just in time to save you seems a little odd. If it wasn't Jason, then Why isn't he here to get celebrated like a hero? I know I would do that."

"Maybe he is a little more modest than you. The truth is I didn't talk to him but instead ran to the car. I was scared. I drove off and slept in the car a few miles up the road before I got home. No offense officers, but if you don't have any more questions I would like to go home now. I'm really tired." I crossed my arms and looked him straight in the eyes.

He glanced at his colleague who nodded. "Yes miss (L/n) you are free to go. Sorry if we upset you in any way."

~~~~~End of Flashback~~~~~

I finished my drink and put the glass in the sink. They didn't find anything or anyone in the Camp, just like they predicted. I wonder where he hid during the search.

"Jason Voorhees." That name has a nice ring to it. I smile. He's the only light in that otherwise dark memory. I want to see him again.