CHAPTER SIX

DISCOVERIES

Micki heard a loud bang outside and knew something was wrong.

Swiftly, she made her way down the hall and started down the stairs. Halfway down there was a loud cracking sound and one of the steps broke under her weight. Micki lost her balance and started to fall forward, but, luckily, she managed to grab the banister. Though the banister groaned in response it held.

Taking a calming breath, Micki righted herself and continued down the stairs. Then she rushed out the door.

Outside, on the porch, Micki heard Ryan cursing. Shining her light around, though, she couldn’t see him.

“Ryan!” she yelled.

“Stay back!” She heard Ryan yell to her. She could tell that his voice came from the direction of the truck, but she still couldn’t see him.

“What’s wrong?” she asked, shining her flashlight around again. She still couldn’t see anything unusual. Then she heard the hissing.

Pointing her flashlight beam at the ground she saw a writhing, hissing, mass of Hellworms covering the ground in front of the house.

“My god.” She said. Surprisingly, she noticed that though the worms were actively aggressive they were making no attempt to wriggle onto the porch after her.

She pointed her flashlight toward the truck and saw Ryan. He was throwing something out.

“Son of a bitch!” she heard him curse. Then she saw him jump out the back of the truck and come running through the worms and onto the porch.

Momentarily startled by this stunt, Micki was about to say something, but Ryan cut her off.

“Well, come on.” Ryan said, holding up the crowbar he’d grabbed from the back of the truck. “Let’s crack that thing open and get the hell out of here.” Then, before she could say a word, he headed inside the mansion.

Micki stood for a moment. Then she flashed her light one last time at the hissing, snapping, mass of Hellworms. Just another night here in sleepy old Crystal Lake. she thought as she headed inside after Ryan.

By the time Micki arrived back at Pamela Voorhees’ room Ryan was already busy prying the lock with the crowbar. Though the lock groaned in response, it held fast.

Then, after a few more minutes there was a loud squeal and cracking sound as the lock finally broke opened.

Ryan dropped the crowbar, grabbed his flashlight from the nearby dresser, and flipped the lid of the trunk open. Flashing his light inside, he bent down and pulled out a white wedding gown.

Micki came over.

“And this’s just the frosting on the cake.” Ryan said, shining his flashlight into the trunk again.

Micki looked down and quickly covered her mouth to keep from throwing up. In the trunk next to a stack of books were two glass jugs containing two hearts pickled in, what she guessed was, formaldehyde.

Ryan covered the jugs with the wedding dress. Then he picked up one of the books and examined its cover. “Not exactly what we were looking for but useful nevertheless.” He announced, handing her the book.

Looking down at the cover instantly convinced her. On the cover, in gold leaf, was the title DIARY OF PAMELA VOORHEES 1957.

Taking the book and laying it on one of the dressers, she started quickly looking through it. Then, after a few moments, she finally found a section that caught her interest….

July 28, 1957

Oh, god why have you done this to me? Why have you taken my precious little boy away? For the last three days I’ve stayed awake all night praying that you would find a way to make this all just a big mistake and my boy would be all right. But now I know that won’t be the case. I realized this the moment the sheriff said he was ending the search. You bastard. You won’t even let me have the closure of having his body to bury. Are you satisfied? You’ve taken the only piece of joy in my life…

Micki would have continued reading but Ryan distracted her by letting out a loud sneeze.

Micki looked over at him. While she’d been going over the diary Ryan had been taking the other diaries out of the trunk and stacking them on top of Pamela Voorhees’ wedding dress Now he was wrapping the dress around the books and started to tie the bundle together.

Ryan took out his handkerchief and blew his nose. He wasn’t looking good. His face was rosy red. Perspiration was dripping from his face. He looked up at her with bloodshot eyes and asked, “Are we done now?”

“Actually, there’s one more place we need to check out before we leave.” She told him; aware of the apparent disregard she was showing toward his condition.

“Excuse me?” he said, surprised.

“We have to check out Jason’s room.” She told him.

Ryan’s jaw dropped. “You’re nuts.” He said, wiping his runny nose with his coat sleeve. “Look at how bad this room is. I can only guess what kind of a death trap Jason’s room must be.”

“Still we need to at least make the attempt.” Micki told him, a determined look on her face.

“I still say this is a mistake.” Ryan said, as he and Micki came up to the door halfway down the hall from Pamela Voorhees’ bedroom.

“Ryan, it would be a mistake if we didn’t.” Micki said. “If anything we’ll get some new insights about who Jason was before he drowned.”

Micki noticed that Ryan was looking noticeably better now that they were out of Pamela Voorhees’ moldy bedroom. Still, she felt a bit guilty about pushing him into this, but she knew it had to be done. If they were going to put an end to this madness knowledge would be their best weapon.

Ryan tried the door, but this time he found it locked tight. “Now what?” he asked, though the answer was obvious.

“Well, we’ll just have to break it in.” she said.

“You mean I’ll have to.” Ryan corrected her.

Ryan threw himself against the door, but the only thing that happened was he hurt his shoulder. Cursing and rubbing his aching shoulder he repeated this a couple more times, but the door held.

Then he back up against the opposite wall in the cramped hallway and tried to give the door a running jump kick. The door still held, but he heard an unmistakeable cracking sound. Encouraged by this, he continued pounding the door with more kicks. Each time the cracking sound became louder.

Finally, the door broke open. But, at the same instant the floor beneath Ryan’s feet collapsed and sent him falling into the room below, which turned out to be the kitchen. Ryan landed feet first on the kitchen table. Two of the table’s legs broke under the impact, sending him tumbling onto the floor.

“Ryan!” Micki screamed, dropping down to her knees and flashing her flashlight down through the hole, trying to find Ryan.

She finally found him sitting up unsteadily. “My god. Are you all right?”

“Great.” He said. “I really get a kick out of whole macho falling through floors thing.”

Micki found this strangely comforting. If he’s feeling good enough to make sarcastic cracks then I guess he’s ok. She thought.

Ryan slowly and achingly got up. “I’ll be up in a bit.” He yelled up to her.

“I’ll start checking out the room.” She told him.

“Hold on there.” He said, concerned. “You just saw me fall through the floor and now you want to just waltz into a room that’s been more than likely closed up for over forty years. Doesn’t that sound a little bit risky.”

“You’re the one who wanted to get this over with so we could get out of here.”

“I’m not in that much of a hurry.” He told her. “Just wait for me to get up there.” Then he started to limp out of site.

Micki shook her head in frustration. Typical Ryan Dallion. She thought. Even after everything we’ve been through he still thinks of me as a weak woman that needs to be protected.

She looked over at Jason’s room. Ryan has successfully kicked open the door. “Well, I can still have a look.” She said to herself, shining the beam of the flashlight through the open doorway. What she saw amazed her.

The room, which she expected to be dusty and moldy, looked pristine. There weren’t even any cobwebs. The darkened room looked like no time had passed since it had last been occupied.

“To Hell with waiting.” Micki said aloud to herself, as she carefully stepped over the hole in the floor in front of the doorway and into the room. The moment her foot touched the floor in the room lit up with light.

Startled, Micki stumbled into the room. She had to blink her eyes a few times to get rid of the spots from the flash. Once her vision cleared she was amazed to find that the room was illuminated by sunlight shining through the window.

Then she heard a shuffling sound coming from her right. She looked over and saw a young boy, who looked about twelve, standing by the bed slipping on a pair of blue jeans over a pair of white swimming trunks.

“Jason!” she heard a woman’s voice call from the doorway. Micki spun around and saw a blond woman wearing a white T-shirt, with the name CAMP CRYSTAL LAKE written in blue on the left breast side, and white shorts. Micki recognized the woman from her research. The woman was Pamela Voorhees. But how can this be? Micki thought.

“Jason, you’re not ready yet?” Pamela Voorhees said from the door.

“I forgot my trunks, Mama.” the young boy said from the bed. He was now sitting on the bed, putting on a pair of white tennis shoes.

Micki realized that neither Pamela nor young Jason were aware of her presence.

“Yes, you definitely don’t want to forget those.” Pamela said.

“Bobby and Jenny said I could swim out to the buoy today.”

“I hope one of them is going with you.” She said, a note of concern in her tone. “Remember you’re still not that strong of a swimmer.”

Pamela Voorhees walked over to the bed, and right through Micki. What am I seeing? Ghosts? Micki asked herself, silently.

Pamela Voorhees sat down on the bed next to her son.

“Mom.” Young Jason said, irritated. “I’m not a baby anymore.”

“I know that.” Pamela said, introspectively, “Soon you’ll be all grown up and won’t need me anymore.”

“I’ll always need you, Mama.”

Pamela smiled at her son and gave him a hug.

Micki watched this sentimental moment and realized what she was seeing. This must’ve been the very last time Jason was in this room, the day he drowned. What she was seeing was a replay of those events. It’s a shame. She thought, thinking of the insanity she could stop if she could only warn these two people of the outcome of this day.

She could only watch helplessly as both mother and son got up off the bed, walked through her, and headed out the door.

As she watched them leave Micki heard the sound of a woman weeping coming from the bed. Turning towards the sound, she was amazed to see Pamela Voorhees again. This time she was sitting on the bed holding a framed picture and crying. She was no longer wearing the Camp Crystal Lake shirt or shorts, but a wrinkled looking flowered housedress.

“It’s enough…” Micki heard a man’s voice say from behind her, causing her to jump. Turning around, she came face to face with a heavy built, red haired, man with a long beard, which lacked a mustache. The man looked to be at least twenty years older than Pamela. Micki instantly realized that this man could only be Elias Voorhees.

Like Jason and Pamela had done before Elias passed through Micki and went over to his wife. Micki noticed that though Elias had abandoned his Mennonite roots he still retained the look. Besides the beard and lack of a mustache, which were the typical style for Mennonite men, he also wore a plain white button down shirt and black pants that were held up with black suspenders. On his feet he wore a pair of beaten up brown work boots.

“There has been enough time spent on grieving the boy, my wife.” Elias said, putting a comforting hand on his wife’s shoulder. Pamela slapped it away.

“Enough for you.” She said glaring up at him. “You never loved him.”

Elias looked away from her for a moment, a look of barely concealed hurt on his face. “That is not true.” He said, after a moment.

“You resented him because I loved him more than I ever loved you.” she said venomously.

“No, wife, I did not resent the boy.” He told her. “The truth is you had an unnatural affection for him, much like that you have for your stepbrother.”

“What kind filth are you trying to imply.”

“I’m not implying anything.” He said. “I have eyes, is it not logical that I can see? And what I have seen has revealed much.”

“What kind of foolishness have you come up with now?”

“Oh, woman, be thankful for the sake of your son’s eternal soul that the sacrilege you have committed cannot be called incest but simply being unfaithful to me.”

“This is insanity.” Pamela Voorhees said. Micki thought she looked guilty as sin.

“Deny if you wish.” He said, emotionlessly. “It matters little to me. What is important is that this house return to a semblance of normalcy.”

Pamela laughed at him insanely. “Normal….You want things to go back to normal. How can things ever go back to normal? My child is dead.”

“There will be other children, I assure you.”

Pamela looked at him with disgust. “You honestly think I’m going to let you touch me after what you’ve said to me?”

“You are my wife.” He said, an icy smile on his lips. Without another word he headed for the door.

“You dare try to force me and I’ll kill you!” she yelled after him. “You hear me I’ll kill you!”

Then Micki watched as Pamela broke down and started crying again.

Then Pamela looked at the picture in her hands again. “Oh, Lewis, I need you. Where are you?” She said, placing the picture on the desk.

“Micki!” Micki heard Ryan yell from behind her. Turning around, she was startled find that the room had gone dark again. The only light she could see was from her and Ryan’s flashlights.

“My god, Micki, don’t move.” He yelled at her.

Micki shifted her weight. She heard the floor beneath her feet creak. Shining her flashlight down she was surprised to see that the wood floor looked rotted. Then she shined the flashlight around the room and saw it had changed. Somehow in the last few seconds the room had grown old and rotted.

“Hold on, Micki, I’ll figure out a away to get you out of there.” Ryan said from just beyond the doorway, on the other side of the hole in the floor. “I can’t imagine how you were able to get that far in there without that floor caving in.”

“The room wasn’t like this when I came in.” she told him. She started shining her light over by the bed, which was nothing more than a rat eaten mess of rotted stuffing and a moldy wooden frame. She needed to see if something was still there. As the beam of her flashlight went across the top of the desk, which was next to the bed, it caught a dull glint. Yes. she thought, as she saw that the glint came from a tarnished looking picture frame. It’s still there.

Cautiously, Micki started to move toward the desk. The boards under feet started creaking dangerously.

“Are you insane!” Ryan screamed at her. “You’re gonna get yourself killed!”

Micki managed to make it to the desk. She picked up the picture frame and slipped it under her shirt.

Then she started back towards the doorway. The closer she got the looser the boards seemed to get and the more they groaned. Finally, she heard, and felt, the boards begin to crack under her feet.

Panicking, she started to run. That’s when the floor decided to cave in.

Just as the boards beneath her feet started to drop out from under her, Micki leaped for the doorway, hoping she had enough of a kick off to make it the rest of the way.

As she flew through the doorway she made a desperate grab for the edge of the hallway floor. She let out a scream when the piece of board she grabbed onto broke and she started to fall into the gaping maw of broken and jutting boards beneath.

But then, she felt a hand firmly grab onto her wrist. Looking up she saw Ryan hanging partially over the side of the hole holding onto her arm with one hand. His face was crinkled into a mask of pain.

“I don’t know how long I can hold on.” He said, through gritted teeth. “You’re gonna have to make a grab for the edge.”

Ryan started to swing her slowly. As his swing gained more momentum, Micki tried to grab the edge of the hallway floor. After a few passes she managed to get a grip and Ryan was able to pull her up.

Exhausted, Micki and Ryan laid on the floor beside the hole that had once been Jason’s room. “I hope it was worth it.” Ryan said, groaning and rubbing his aching shoulder.

The picture! Micki thought to herself frantically. She grabbed under her shirt and let out a sigh of relief when she felt the edge of the frame.

Pulling the picture frame out, she started to dust it off, though most of the dust had rubbed off during all the excitement.

“Have you gotten yourself a death wish since you’ve been gone?” Ryan asked sarcastically. “You couldn’t seriously have got yourself nearly killed over an old picture.”

“This isn’t just any old picture.” She said, handing it over to him.

Ryan looked at the picture and gasped. In the photo standing next to a young Jason Voorhees and his mother, looking much younger than when Ryan had last saw him, was unmistakably Lewis Vendredi.

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