Chapter One

The hot June weather didn't distract Annie Phillips. She had been in the middle of the arches; she was seeing the dog. It was distracted; it was seeing the girl smiling at it. 'Hello, girl; sorry, boy'. She was in the town of Crystal Lake for the summer; she was hired by Steve Christy. The twenty-nine year old Head Camp Counsellor was neurotic, as if the talk of death curses was the worse thing on his mind. She felt the brown hair swirl in the breeze; she wore a plaid shirt, blue jeans, a black belt, grey socks, and black boots on her feet.

As she headed to Bert's Gas Station, she walked to the Diner. Annie opened the door. 'Hello. Can anyone tell me how to get to Camp Crystal Lake?', she asked. 'About three miles north, right Enos', Debra Harris, the fifty year old owner, said. 'About that', Enos, the sixty year old truck driver, answered. He ate his favorite cherry pie. He sipped his warm coffee.

'Name's Annie'.

'Okay, Annie. Let's go'.

Annie walked to the front door.

As Enos headed to his truck, Crazy Ralph, the old timer, said: 'You're going to Camp Blood, ain't ya; you'll never return. It's got a death curse'. The old man smiled. 'Shut up, Ralph'. Annie didn't know what to think, or do. She was thinking about her time at Camp Tomahawk, which was down the ashy road. She frowned. She saw Crazy Ralph add, 'You're doomed'. And he rode away to Camp Crystal Lake. Enos opened the passenger-side door.

Annie placed her bag in the passenger-side door.

'What's wrong with him?', she asked.

'Crazy Ralph's a prophet of doom', Enos answered.

'Is he insane?'.

'Maybe; maybe not. Let's go'.

***

Enos shivered.

'What's the matter? You're acting weird', Annie said.

'Go! Go now'.

'Why?'.

'Because...of the death curse'.

'Go. Why?'.

'It's cursed. Did Steve Christy tell you about Jason Voorhees drowning in the lake back in 57? And those teenage campers back in '58? A mysterious fire in '59? And the water was poisoned back in '60'.

'I didn't know that', Annie said.

'You're like my three daughters. Head full o'rocks', Enos said. He looked at the road. 'I'm an American original'.

'I'm an American original', Enos parroted.

***

Enos drove to the camp's sign.

'Got to leave you now, Annie. The wife worries'.

'Fine. Thank you', Annie said.

Annie grabbed her bag, and got out of the truck. Enos waved. Then Annie walked up the road.

Suddenly a van appeared.

'Name's Annie', she said.

The driver was unseen.

Annie threw her bags into the van.

But, to her shock, it was the last time anyone saw her alive.

***

The truck driver was going fast.

Annie didn't want to die.

The driver drove past the sign of the camp.

Annie frowned, and was scared.

She thought hitchhiking was wrong. But every girl did it in the 1970's. It was a rite of passage; it was now bad karma to meet the wrong person on the road. Annie opened the door of the van. Pain went up her right leg. She grabbed her bag. And limped to the woods. As she did so, the agitated killer grabbed a sharp knife. In a matter of seconds, and minutes, the horror returned.

***

Annie didn't run.

She glanced at the oak tree.

'No. Please, no!'.

The knife came towards her, and her body fell downward into the abyss.

It was Friday, June 13, 1979.

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