CHAPTER TWENTY TWO

THE WARNING

Carol Martinez lit the newspaper with her lighter and threw it onto the gas soaked logs and kindling, igniting them. Flames shot up and caused an errie glow across Morgana's face, who was sitting on the other side of the fire across from Carol.

Then Carol carefully moved the camera into position and looked through the eyepiece.

“Hey, Pothead.” she said, looking over at Jamal, who was sitting with his back to the trunk of a tree taking a pull on his joint. “Get off your lazy butt and check out this angle for me.”

Bracing himself against the tree, Jamal pulled himself up and stumbled over to the camera. Taking another deep pull on his joint he looked through the eyepiece. “Mesmerizin', Darlin'. Absolutely mesmorizin'.”

Carol looked at him with disgust. “My god, look at you. I thought I made it clear I wanted you to back off that crap.”

“De smoke helps me with me art.” Jamal told her, looking up at her and appearing to be about to teeter over.

“Give me a fucking break. You can barely stand up. How the fuck are you supposed to shoot anything?” she said, annoyedly.

“I be an artist, Darlin'. I do things me way.” he said, taking in yet another breath of the smoke.

“Well, on this shoot we do things my way.” she said, taking the joint from his lips and crushing it. “Now I suggest you wake up, get some strong coffee down you, and get to fucking work, Pothead.”

Jamal put his hand to his chest dramatically. “Ya wound me. Dat be me last joint.” Then he stumbled toward the cabins.

“Are we done with the drama now, Chief?” Shawn asked as he came up to her.

Carol rolled her eyes at the retreating form of Jamal. Then she shook her head. “You got something to tell me?”

“Actually, I have some concerns about how we have the cables set up. They're dangerously close to the fire.”

“Well, do something about it. Put something over the top of them.” she suggested.

“I've tried. I put all our tarps down over them but they don't cover them completely.” he said.

“Then figure something out.” she told him, getting slightly annoyed. “I'm just the director. It's not my job to have to figure every last detail out.”

“I could go over and ask our neighbors if they have anything we could use.” he suggested.

Carol got a nauseated look on her face. “Please don't.” she said, rubbing her temple. She was definitely feeling a headache coming on.

Just the thought of asking the two Filipino campers, who had made their campsite on the other side of the remains of Vince Fanatana's carnival, for anything made her want to cringe. She'd honestly thought the pothead was bad enough, but those two raised the definition of annoying to new heights.

Supposedly, from what she recalled, Carol thought the two women introduced themselves as sisters, but if they were they were polar opposites. The one camper was a heavy, overly jolly, woman with drawn on eyebrows. She literally never stopped yammering the whole time during their visit, and seemed stuck on the subject of Jason Voorhees. The other woman was short and extremely thin, with short cut hair that was dyed light brown with blond streaks. Though this woman barely said a thing, and pretty much stayed in her companions shadow, she definitely made a strong impression.This was due to the fact that she appeared to be allergic to just about everything in the forest and had the most unique and grating sneeze Carol had ever heard in all her life.The affect reminded her of someone scraping their finger nails down a chalkboard.

“Then what the hell are we supposed to do?” Shawn asked, bringing Carol back to the present.

“Think of something.” Carol told him. “Think of anything. Just don't ever suggest that to me again.” Then she walked away from him and headed toward the van, rubbing her temple again. She hoped she still had aspirins in the glove compartment, because her head had started to throb.

“Cheweak!”Bessie Nague's small Filipino frame shuttered so hard that she nearly tipped over the folding chair she was sitting in. Then she blew her nosed with the handy handkerchief she had in her left hand.

“Can't you do something about that?” her sister Lilleth intoned, annoyed, from the chair next to her. “It's no wonder that that woman threw us out of the campsite.”

“Actually, I think she got tired of you bending her ear about letting us be in the documentary and ramming all that trivia down her throat about Jason Voorhees.”Bessie said, before blowing her nose yet again.

“So shoot me for being enthusiastic!”she said, now thoroughly disturbed. “What the hell do you expect? Think about it, Bessie. We're camping at Camp Crystal Lake, the hunting ground of the coolest serial killer, next to that guy in Springwood who killed all those kids.....What was his name? Fred something...”

“Freddy Krueger.” Bessie reminded her.

“Whatever.” Lilleth answered. “Just think about it, this place was the inspiration for all those BLOOD CAMP films.” Then Lilleth lovingly caressed the “I Survived Camp Blood” T-shirt she wore.

“I know all this, sis.” Bessie said, trying hard to keep from rolling her eyes.

“You just can't appreciate this place like I can.” Then Lilleth droned on for the next fifteen minutes more, reminding her sister that she wasn't just some ordinary fan, but that she was an acknowledged expert on the subject as well as being the webmaster of the Official BLOOD CAMP Fan Club Website and the Vice President of the Jason Voorhees Appreciation Society. Then she went on to babble on about her collection of Jason collectibles and how she had every variation of every Jason doll ever made.

After hearing all this for what seemed the millionth time Bessie couldn't help but roll her eyes. This enraged her sister, just adding fuel to an already scorching fire.

“Damnit, why did I ever decide to bring you along? All through this trip all you've been is a real pain!”

“Cheweak!”Bessie sneezed again.

“And would you please do something about that fucking sneezing!” Lilleth complained at her.

Bessie glared at her. “I would, but if you recall, I told you I left my allergy pills at the hotel. You were the one who refused to go back and get them.”

Lilleth opened her mouth to counter her sister again, but stopped and waved her hand at her. “Did you hear that?”

“What?” Bessie asked, looking around.

“I heard something moving around out there.” Lilleth said, getting up out of her chair and scanning the woods with her eyes.

Then Bessie heard a crunching sound in the woods. It sent a chill up her back. She got up out of her chair and stood next to her sister.“It's nothing just a deer or some other animal.” Bessie said, but in her gut she really didn't believe it.”

“Have you seen any animals around this camp?” Lilleth pointed out. “I haven't seen any animals, not even a squirrel since we've been here.”

This caused Bessie to become even more disturbed. She moved a bit closer to her sister.“Maybe it's those people from the documentary crew.”

“If it was them then why are they being so quiet?”

“I don't know.” Bessie said, her expression almost pleading, like her sister had the power to wish the sound away. “Maybe they're trying to play a trick on us. Maybe they're trying to scare us to get a realistic reaction for the documentary.”

“Maybe.” Lilleth agreed. “Well, if it's a show they want...” Then Lilleth headed over to her tent,bent down and headed inside.

Bessie followed her sister and stood outside the tent. “What are you doing?” Bessie exclaimed, now thoroughly afraid now that she was essentially alone.

But then she calmed a bit as her sister emerged from the tent. But then her fear turned to surprise when she saw what her sister went into the tent for.

Clasped in Lilleth's hand was a very imposing looking machete. On the large blade, which reflected the glow of the fire in the firepit in front of her, was written “Camp Crystal Lake” in bloody looking letters.

“Where the hell did you get that.” she asked, totally stunned.

“Remember when I went to the Trading Post and you headed back to the hotel?” she asked, hefting the weapon and looking at it with a proud grin. “I got this, my T-shirt, and an official Jason hockey mask at half price.”

Bessie's mouth dropped. “What the hell were you thinking? What were you planning to use that thing for? A bread cutter or something?”

Lilleth looked at her sister with disgust and shook her head. “You'll never understand. This is an official machete from Camp Crystal Lake. You can't just buy this at the local Kmart. This is something special, something to treasure. Not everyone has one of these.”

“Yeah, because it's a damned machete.” Bessie pointed out. Then she blew her nose again.

“Well, given our situation it's lucky I had it around.” Lilleth told her. “I saw THE BLAIR WITCH PROJECT. I saw what happened to those poor college students. They weren't ready....” Then Lilleth held up the machete. “But I am.” Then she smiled.

“That was all fake.” Bessie pointed out.

“What?” Lilleth asked, looking confused.

“THE BLAIR WITCH PROJECT.” Bessie said. “It was all just a gimmick to sell a low budget horror movie. Hell, it turned out that town they shot it in was never called Blair.”

“That's just what they want you to think.” Lilleth said.

“Excuse me?”

“I know it is all a big conspiracy.” Lilleth told her. “I've seen the internet site.”

“But wait a second, I've seen Heather Donahue in other films since then.” Bessie told her.

“But are you sure it's the same Heather Donahue?” Lilleth countered. “Maybe they found another woman named Heather Donahue who looked kinda like the other one...” Lilleth was going to continue to preach at her sister, but the sound of more branches breaking stopped her. “Did you hear that? It's getting closer.”

“Now I'm really getting scared.” Bessie admitted, slipping behind her sister and looking nervously into the woods.

“Don't worry, sis, I'll protect you.” Lilleth told her as she was looking down the clean reflective blade excitedly. She actually hoped there was some freak out there. She really wanted a chance to use her prize.

“Sound?” Carol Martinez yelled.

“Check.” Shawn said, hold his mic-crane over Morgana's head.

“Camera?” she said, looking over at Jamal.

“Ready, Darlin'.” he said.

Carol shook her head. Then she held up a piece of paper. “Legend of Crystal Lake, séance, take one.” Then, after pulling the paper away, she headed around behind Jamal and picked up a microphone from off the ground.

“This is our last night here in Crystal Lake and we thought a documentary about the supernatural wouldn't be complete without a séance.” she said into the microphone. “And what better place to have it than here at Camp Crystal Lake. Therefore, with the help our mental medium, Morgana Blackthorn, we shall attempt to contact the restless spirits of the people killed on these grounds by both Jason Voorhees and his mother.” Then Carol nodded at Morgana.

Morgana, her eyes dancing with the reflection of the blazing fire before her, began to speak.

“Everyone please remain quiet during these proceedings, because any sound or quick movement could break my trance state.” she warned, looking around her.

“And that could be very dangerous for her.” Julius added from behind Carol, startling her.

Carol turn around and glared at him warningly. All she needed was for him to become over dramatic and ruin things.

“Though there may be times when the spirits may become more vocal and agitated please don't intercede.” she continued. “As my friend mentioned, while I'm in my trance I am extremely vulnerable and any shock could be fatal. Believe me when I say that even though it may seem like things may appear to be going out of control the truth is that I am always in control. I will now begin.”

Morgana closed her eyes. After a few moments her body started to weave back and forth. Then she opened her mouth and an unfamiliar voice issued from it. The voice sounded like that of an old man.

“You're doomed.....You're doomed.” Morgana said in the strange masculine voice. “There is still a death curse on Crystal Lake. That has not changed. All those who enter these woods enter at their own risk.”

Then her head dropped down and after a few moments came up again. This time when she spoke a female voice, though clearly not her own, came from her lips. “It was the boy.” the voice exclaimed. “It was the boy from the lake. Somehow he found me. Beware or you'll be found. You must leave. You are the key. If you don't leave he'll come back. Please don't help him to come back!”

Then Morgana's head dropped again. But, this time when her came up her eyes shot opened revealing nothing but the whites of her eyes, and when she spoke the voice that came out was that of an older woman.

“Leave this place.” the voice ordered. “If you don't more blood will be spilt. Beware the other. He is on his way. He knows you are here and he will show you no mercy. He does not fully realize his situation and that he is setting up his own doom. He must not succeed. My son must stay where he is. It is the only answer.”

“So, am I correct that you are the spirit of Pamela Voorhees?” Carol said,holding the microphone to her lips.

Both Shawn and Jamal looked over at her in surprise. Julius glared at her.

“I asked you a question.” Carol pushed. “Are you Pamela Voorhees?”

“You know who I was.” The voice said simply. “Yet it is a waste of time for me to answer since you will not believe me anyway.”

“And how do you know that?” Carol challenged.

“Because it won't be until you see your friends dead before you realize the truth and by then it will be too late for you.” The voice said sadly. “I pity you.”

“Oh, really.” Carol said, shaking her head. “You know that's very interesting. No one ever said that Pamela Voorhees was psychic. Oh, my god, what a revelation.” But then Carol's eyes narrowed and her tone was less pleasant. “Or is it all this is just a load of crap. A complete load, perpetrated by a so called medium looking to make a name for herself.”

“That's not true!” Julius exclaimed.

“Oh, come on Morgana.” Carol continued, ignoring Julius' protest. “I must say that this has been a very impressive performance. I mean you do a great job with the voices and all.....”

“I pity you and your friends.” the voice said. “And I pity that because of your ignorance my son will be free to kill once again.”

“Now you're getting overly mellow dramatic.” Carol said. “This is getting really boring.”

“I have warned you!” The voice raged, as Morgana stood up and glared at Carol with her whited out eyes. “I can do no more!”

Morgana began to weave even more than before. It looked like at any moment she might fall forward into the fire.

Julius rushed forward, knocking Carol out of his way as he passed.

Morgana closed her eyes and fell backwards over the log she'd been sitting on.

Julius ran around the firepit and ran over to her. He kneeled down beside her and picked her up into his arms.

Morgana began to groan and finally, after a few moments, opened her eyes and looked up at Julius.

“And cut.” Carol yelled. “That was great.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” Julius exclaimed, with total disbelief. “My god, you saw her. She could've died because of you.”

“Yeah, right.” Carol replied. “It was a fantastic performance. Very dramatic. I do have to give her credit.”

“It was all real.” Morgana said weakly, with a mirror of Julius' disbelief on her face.

“Listen, you stupid bitch, she wasn't acting!” Julius yelled at Carol. “That warning was real.”

“You can stop now.” Carol said dismissively. “The camera is off and you're wasting your time trying this crap with me. I'm not impressed.”

“Hey, chief.” Shawn said. “I don't know. She really looked like she might fall into the fire. I nearly creamed my shorts.”

Carol shook her head at him. “They've really got you and the pothead suckered. Don't they?”

“Dar be more tings in the Heaven an the Earth den can be dreamt of in your philosophy, Darlin'.” Jamal said, waggling his finger at her. “I told ya there be bad mojo around dis place.”

Carol gave them a dismissive wave of her hand and headed toward the cabins. “I'm not going to waste anymore of my precious time with this.”

“I got me a bad feelin' about dis shit, man.” Jamal said to Shawn.

“Yeah, I know what you mean.” Shawn agreed.

“If I were you,” Julius said as he helped Morgana to her feet, “I'd jump in that van and get the hell out of here. If it wasn't that Morgana's so weak at the moment we'd be out of here already.”

“I'm fine, Julius.” Morgana said, though it was obvious by the way she was clinging to him she was not.

“But what about the chief.” Shawn asked. “What if she's still being hard headed?”

“If she's not willing to leave then fuck her.” Julius said simply.

“I couldn't leave her here.” Shawn admitted.

“Me neither, man.” Jamal agreed. “Though da lady be a hardass an be ignorant I wouldn't wanna see her come ta any harm.”

“Then I suggest you leave a note to tell whoever finds your body who to contact.” Julius said as he half dragged Morgana toward the cabins.

RETURN