Chapter One
The town of Crystal Lake
Friday, June 13, 1979
One year later....
The teenage camp cook, Annie Phillips, was nineteen.
She had long, brown hair, bright, blue eyes, and average height. She wore a plaid shirt, blue, flared jeans, grey socks, and shoes on her feet. Her watch read: 8:30 AM. The temperature was 71 degrees in the summer. She saw the dog near Bert's Gas Station that was near the old, nineteen fifties era bridge.
'Hello, boy. Sorry, girl'.
She hugged the dog, and then headed across the street to the Crystal Lake Diner. All of the cars, vans, and other vehicles, were parked outside; all of them was parked so the owners of the cars could drive away from town after lunch. Annie, a pretty girl, had grown up in Crystal Lake since birth. Her parents, Ed and Anne Phillips, were school teachers in the nineteen forties, and nineteen fifties. During the summers in June, and July, Annie wished to take care of the children at Camp Crystal Lake. She opened the door, and smiled at the local diners.
'Excuse me, but can you tell me where Camp Crystal Lake is?', she asked.
'They re-opening that place again?', Graham Morse, a fifty year old local truck driver answered.
'What is it Enos...about three miles', Karen Miner, the fifty year old owner/manager, asked.
'Yes. About that', Enos answered.
'Name's Annie'.
'Well, let's go, Annie', Enos said.
He paid for his cherry pie, and coffee.
He grabbed his coat, and opened the door.
Then they reached his '63 year old van.
***
'You're going to Camp Blood, ain't ya? You'll never return. It's got a death curse', Crazy Ralph, the sixty-five year old doomsayer, said.
'Shut up, Ralph', Enos said.
Crazy Ralph rode his old nineteen forties-era bicycle around the corner. And he headed towards Camp Crystal Lake.
***
'What's the matter with him?', Annie asked Enos.
'He is a religious man, Annie. It's the camp. Bad things have happened there. The fires in '59; the bad water in '62. Afterwards, the Christy family went broke because the camp was closed. Steve Christy is mad to re-open after the murders of Barry and Claudette; the drowning of Jason Voorhees back in '57', Enos answered.
'I'm taking care of fifty kids at Camp Crystal Lake. You're acting like there's ghosts around here. You're acting like Old Ralph back there. What's wrong?'.
'Go! Go! Go back', Enos said.
'I can't', Annie insisted.
'You're like my three daughters. Heads full o' rocks'.
'I'm an American original'.
'I'm an American original', Enos said.
He stopped the truck, and Annie grabbed her bag.
'Good bye'.
'Good bye, Annie'.
And she got out, and waved as Enos drove back to town.
***
Annie trudged up the stony, wet, road.
As she did so, she heard the sound of a Jeep.
It was coming at her at a fast speed.
It went past her, then the driver went back, and picked her up.
'Camp Crystal Lake'.
The driver was in the driver's seat.
Annie was frustrated.
She hated the silent treatment.
'I'm looking forward to the summer camping season'.
More silence.
The jeep wasn't slowing down.
'Hey, wasn't there a sign to Camp Crystal Lake back there?'.
She was scared now.
She took off her seatbelt, and opened the passenger-side door. The Jeep was moving at 60mph.
Annie jumped out.
Pain went up her right leg.
Limping, she ran into the deep woods.
The killer stopped, and undid her seatbelt.
And opened the driver's-side door.
Annie saw an oak tree in the middle of the woods.
The killer held onto sharp knife in her small, right hand.
'No! No! Please, no!', she pleaded.
The last thing she remembered was the idea that she wouldn't be at camp at all. The killer forced her body into the Jeep, and headed towards the woods.
***
Jack Burrell was driving the 1976 year old van. He looked at the road. His long, blonde hair was going to be cut soon by the barber; his ocean blue eyes flickered in an amusing grin; his focus was the sign that read: Welcome to Camp Crystal Lake, Est. 1935.
His girlfriend, Marcie Stanler, was eighteen, a year younger than Jack was. She had long, frizzy brown hair, blue eyes, and average height. They had been together for two years. Both of them were from New York. With them was Ned Rubenstein, a Jewish prankster. He had short, black hair, green eyes, and average height. 'Didn't Steve say to meet him at the cabins', Ned said. 'Yes', Jack smiled. He drove towards a man who was chopping wood. It was Steve Christy. He wore a red bandana across his neck; he wore blue flares. And he wore brown boots on his feet. 'Well, come on', he said.
The three teenagers got out of the van, and helped out.
'I thought we wouldn't get to work now', Ned sighed.
He was proved wrong.
***
The door opened, and Alice Hardy, the twenty-one year old Assistant Camp Manager at Camp Crystal Lake, smiled at them. 'Hi, I'm Alice. This is Steve Christy, the Manager', she explained.
'Jack. Marcie. And Ned', Jack said.
'Where's Brenda?', Steve asked.
'Fixing up the archery range', Alice answered.
'No, I would rather she paint with Bill'.
A tall, blue eyed man appeared with a barrel of paint.
'Hi. I'm Bill Freeburg'.
Once everyone was introduced, Bill added: 'Where's the other cook? Annie Phillips?', he asked Alice.
'She didn't arrive', Alice said.
'Alice you can cook in her place', Steve said.
'Fine, Steve', Alice stated.
And she showed everyone to their cabins.
***
Steve saw Alice.
He noticed her paintings.
'You draw well', Steve said.
'I wish I could have the time', Alice said.
'Did we sleep in bed last night?', Steve asked her.
'Yes', Alice answered.
'I...forgot how much you cared about me', Steve sighed.
He hammered nails into the cabin doors.
Alice did the same.
'I need to know that you love me, Steve'.
'I do love you, Alice', Steve stammered.
'Do you?', Alice asked him.
'Yes', Steve answered.
And she nodded.
'I know you do, Steve', Alice said.
'Look, if you don't like it here, I'll pay for the ticket back home. Please stay a week'. Alice nodded.
'Okay, one more week'.
'Thank you, Alice', Steve stated.
And he walked away towards the jeep.
***
Steve said: 'I'll be back soon. Good bye!'.
And he drove away from Camp Crystal Lake, leaving them alone for the day.
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