Freddy vs. Jason vs. Ash

Another Day in Crystal Lake

Her dream was perfect. She was laying on some beach, somewhere. The beautiful sunset was burning up the atmosphere. Caroline DeSilva was relaxing in the bright rays of sun, her eyes shielded by an expensive pair of sunglasses and a floppy sun-hat that was pulled down over her forehead. Even still, the sunlight was nearly blinding thanks to the reflection off the water and the white sandy beach. She could feel the heat on her bare skin, which caused her to grow a few shades darker by the hour. And there was quite a lot of bare skin, as the macramé bikini-top she wore left little to the imagination, while her legs poked out of a long, single-slit sun skirt.

The rising tide finally began washing cold water over her bare feet, a welcome contrast to the sun's heat. She fought the urge to go out for a dip and reached over to grab a sip of her Dos Eques instead.

She heard the footsteps behind her and knew that her man was coming up. She felt his strong hands on her shoulders, causing her to sink backwards in delight. His hands started to wander underneath the strap of her bikini, though she didn't seem to mind at all. In fact, she was aching to find out what else these hands did...

The man leaned in and whispered into her ear; Carrie turned and flashed him a bright smile. It's not very often that James Bond whispers naughty things into your ear, so she was of course beaming.

At least, she was until the gunfire started.

In a split second, the serenity of the beach was interrupted by a hail of bullets, causing the sand to explode and shower her! Bond turned and, like lightning, had his signature Walther PPK in his hands, firing back at a host of unseen enemies!

Carrie screamed and frantically searched for panic, seeing a sand castle off to the side! She made a mad dive for it...

...leaping out of her bed and tumbling to the floor in the process before rolling into a wall. She lifted her head around and searched frantically for the source of the gunfire before realizing it was coming from a set of speakers in the living room of the apartment she shared with her roommate and best friend, David Platte. Carrie tried to muffle the sounds with her pillow, but to no avail.

"Davey, must you play that shit at three in the morning!"

"It's seven-thirty, Carrie! Are you just now getting up? We're gonna be late for work!"

Carrie lifted her head from her carpet. Her hair was in a complete mess, despite the fact that she had worn it in a ponytail for all of the night. She blew a wayward strand of strawberry blond hair from her eyes and mustered enough strength to glance over at the clock. In bold red numbers, the display read 7:30.

"Shit," she said to herself. She hustled out of bed and quickly doffed her Wonder Woman sleep shirt and David's DC Superhero pajama bottoms, which she had snatched up the night before because, as she had explained it, "I was cold, and they're warm."

Carrie was so hopped up on adrenaline that, in her rush to get ready, she had jumped into the shower and had the water turned on before she realized she still had on her underclothes.

The fact that the water was also uncomfortably cold made for a very effective wake-up call.

"FUUCK!!!"

In the living room, David could hear Carrie exceptionally loud scream from the shower even over the excruciatingly loud barrage of gunfire and whistling grenades from the game he was playing.

David had shoulder-length dark brown hair and though he was tall, he was thin and skinny. He was also a nerd, though not the type of nerd who would have the pocket protector, the oversized "Urkel" glasses, and the suspenders with chest-high pants and a tucked-in white shirt.