Title: End at the Beginning
Author: Carol Anne Caiafa
Fandom: Friday the 13th
Pairing: Jason Voorhees/Pamela Voorhees
Summary: Jason’s mother determines to rise from the dead
Warnings: Implied future mother/son incest, horror violence, AU
Word Count: 438
10_inspirations Prompt: Writings #10, “The pain of her loss tore through her soul.”
Disclaimer: Don’t own ‘em, no profit, suing is futile!
A/N: This is rather dark and squicky – if things like this upset you, then don’t click the link!
She was no longer in hell, yet she was far from heaven. Her torment was that she could see her son, watch him striking down his victims armed with blades and endless rage, and could not touch him. Spectral as mist, she hovered unseen as he hacked his way through flesh and bone, sending displaced souls fleeing past her into the ether. Most were doomed to be restless spirits, even more wretched than she was, forever screaming in their fear and confusion, bewildered with the pain of their last living moments.
Let them suffer, she told herself; she had no pity for them, none whatsoever. She had left a trail of dead bodies whilst on earth, avenging the drowning of her beloved little boy in Crystal Lake, then attempting to stop the re-opening of the summer camp where her child had met his end. Her sufferings had been more frightful than anybody could imagine. It was if her soul had been ripped in two by the loss of her dear son. Long nights had been spent in weeping; her hands reaching to grasp air in the darkness, her mind slowly turning towards madness as she knew she would never again see the face of her baby boy, that face so hideous in the eyes of others but so beautiful to her. But now her Jason had risen again, a deathless giant, killing everyone that stood in his way. And his ghostly mother’s heart ached once again. She longed to hold him in her arms, yet every time she stretched her hands towards him, she grasped nothing.
She knew he could sense her presence; sometimes she saw him pound his machete against a tree-trunk in frustration, or turn his masked head to scan the woods around him, searching for her, trying to catch a glimpse of the one he knew to be watching over him. Sometimes, she whispered to him in the stillness of the night, and he heard these words of love as disembodied voices in his head. I love you, Jason. Kill them all. Kill them for Mommy, baby…
And he killed, and she watched. She was with him almost always, and when she was not at his side, she searched. Her own body, decapitated and decomposed within the grave, was useless to her. She needed a new corpse to possess, or a living body whose will could be bent to that of her demented spirit. Soon, she told herself. Soon she would be able to take her beloved Jason in her arms. Together they would kill, and together they would explore the ways of darkest love.