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Strange Stirrings	By : SquireMuldoon Category: 1 through F > Friday the 13th (All) > Friday the 13th (All) Views: 6824 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: I do not own Friday the 13th, Nightmare on Elm Street, Freddy vs Jason, or any of the characters therein. I do not make any money from these writings.

Chapter List
- 1-Strange Stirrings
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A/N: Hiya guys! This is my first story here, so forgive me if it isn�t any good. Plus it�s hard for me to write anything serious, I was giggling through the whole thing. I may have to spoof this later. There are bound to be heavy mistakes either grammatical or huge plot holes! YAY! If my ADHD allows me to, then I�ll have more posted soon. And don�t consider this a serious literary piece, this is just my sick idea of a hobby. I�m not looking to become a writer or anything.

Also! I don�t consider sex with Jason or Freddy necrophilia per se. They�re undead like vampires�so get yer saddle ready folks! It�s gonna be a ride of sweet, kinky, weirdness! GIDDY UP! HYAH!!!
Three! Teeew�ONE, GO!!!
STRANGE STIRRINGS

The mousy brunette turned up the volume on her music player as she shopped, drowning out the two women gossiping at the front counter. It was always the same story, every time, and Dolores was sick of hearing it. Especially since it was about her and her recently deceased grandmother.

�That�s the granddaughter of that crazy old woman. You know, the one that lived near �Camp Blood.�� The first gossip would say just loud enough for the girl to hear.

�What about her?� The other would ask.

�Well, I heard that when the old bat croaked she left everything, even that dinky little cottage to the brat. Not to mention a large sum of money.� The first would reply. �Now she�s living in those woods, sitting pretty.�

�I bet she couldn�t wait for her to die!�

As the women would burst into laughter the timid girl wouldn�t speak up. She�d just let her anger fester inside of her. They were completely ignorant of the situation.

Dolores brought her items up front and switched off her music. The two women had already gone, sparing her the unease from their side glances. The man behind the counter greeted her with a warm smile. It seemed genuine enough and she felt a little more comfortable.

�Don�t worry about what they say, they just talk non-stop about nothing.� He started ringing up her order. �So, how�s your first month here going?�

�It�s been okay.� Her words were barely audible.

�You aren�t afraid of living all alone in those woods?�

She looked up quizzically at him. �Should I be?�

�Well, it�s just that a lot of people have gone missing in that area.� He leaned closer to her. �Supposedly some maniac - Jason Voorhees is his name - is the cause of those disappearances.�

�Oh.� She handed him her money then continued. �I haven�t had any trouble yet.�

�Still, you be careful out there miss.�

�I will.�

She took her change and groceries and trotted outside. The sun was starting to set as she dropped her bags into the basket on her bike and hopped on. As she rode home she thought about the shopkeeper�s warning. Was there really some crazy guy running around in the woods? If so, she�d never seen him. Sure, she�d heard rustling beyond the trees and the occasional twigs snapping, but it was a forest and there was plenty of wildlife to put the noises off on.

He was just trying to scare you.
The sun had gone down quite a bit as she slowed to a stop in front of her home. Jason had been waiting for her to return, hiding back amongst the trees. He watched intently as she hurried inside, her arms full of brown bags. She seemed more rushed than usual, had she seen him? No, he was too well hidden. He didn�t want to scare her, not this one, not this time. A strange feeling came over him when he saw this girl, a feeling that made him keep his machete at his side and not to strike her down. But why? What made her so special? Physically, she wasn�t too different than the others that met their end by his hand. She was plumper than most, but that would never stop him. All the more flesh to impale. The clothes she wore hid her bad spots well, that usually made him less angry, but still was not enough to keep him from killing anyone else dressed like that.

Trying to figure her out made Jason angry, so angry that he swung his machete, lodging it into a tree. Dolores heard the echoing noise and peered out of her window, but all she could see was the dusky forest.
�There�s nothing there.� She reassured herself. �Nothing.� Her attention was returned to putting away her foodstuffs. She was going to cook, but decided to skip it and take a bath instead. The soaking would help relax her rattled nerves. She grabbed some scented beads from a cupboard and went into the bathroom.

A sigh escaped Dolores�s lips as she relaxed in the tub, the fresh scent of lilac filled her nostrils. She could unwind without anything distracting her. This place was so different than her home in California. Her thoughts traveled back there, she wondered how everything was. Not that she should have even cared about anyone, it was hell for her living there.

When Dolores was ten years old her mother had an extramarital affair that caused her father to snap and put a bullet into his own brain. The woman didn�t really care, for she married her lover, Ray, not long after. Her stepfather put her down constantly, referring to her as a shit colored half-breed. He�d tell her that her mother was ashamed of having a half white kid and that she should have never been born. Everything she did was wrong in his eyes. It was only until they had children of their own that he left her alone, fawning all over his kids. They forgot about her and that was just fine.

She shook her head and soaped up a cloth. You�re supposed to be relaxing stupid. She thought to herself. Just enjoy the solitude.
Jason�s one good eye was fixated upon the bathing girl. For the few weeks he�d watched her he had always averted his gaze when she disrobed, but not this night. He stared as she�d slowly peeled out of her summer dress, the delicate fabric had caressed every curve of her form before falling to the floor. His undead heart fluttered in his chest when she had removed her undergarments and tied up her long curly hair.

He was always told that bathing was an intimate act, no one should be around, it was private. The only exception was a mother washing her child. Jason was not this girl�s mother, she wasn�t his child. Jason was being a bad boy, watching her wash herself. His eye followed her hand as she moved the soapy rag over her body, across her shoulders, down her arms, crossing over those things. Those big, soft things that Jason was never supposed to look at.

His attention fell to a stirring in his pants. They�d grown tight down there. The tightness was foreign and uncomfortable. Unwelcome. He reached down and pulled the fabric, shifting it around, but there was no relief. The source of the discomfort was coming from him, not the pants. That flesh between his legs was swollen, it seemed to pulsate like a heartbeat. After a few minutes of tugging and adjusting he decided to just disregarded it and continue his stern observation.

The girl was already out of the water drying her body. She slipped on her sleep shirt and let her hair down in front of the mirror. The light was cut off and the house remained dark as she retired to her bed. Jason turned and walked off into the forest. She hadn�t realized she had a voyeur of the most dangerous kind right outside of her window.
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Strange Stirrings