Post by jasonzson on Oct 31, 2006 14:29:36 GMT -5
"Released?" Sister Amanda said to herself as she approached the church. There was so much on her mind- the son of her womb murdering children, the failures of the American justice system. It was times like these when the shadow would return, the shadow that made her question her faith. "I should have aborted him when I had the chance," the shadow would whisper. "He deserves the death penalty." These thoughts were sinful, and could only be the spawn of the devil. The shadow was Amanda Krueger's one big secret- that, and her relation to the madman on Elm Street.
As she neared the church, Amanda stopped cold. There was something evil, something nearby- something in the cemetery that demanded the attention of a servant of the Lord. She turned the corner, and there was a woman standing there. The woman reeked of the devil, of cold-blooded evil. Her silhouette was that of a madwoman, a person who had lost her connection with reality in a bad way. Against the brilliance of the setting sun, her visage was cold and black, devoid of all light and life.
Pamela Voorhees, noticing someone looking at her, turned around. Her arms were bent behind her back, and on her face was a look of outrage that seemed as much a part of her as the hair on her scalp. Noticing the shocked look on the sister's face, Mrs. Voorhees took a step forward. She gave Krueger an expecting look, silently demanding an explanation.
"I... I sense a lot of darkness in you," Amanda said. An understatement, to be sure, but it never helped to offend someone. Some priests and higher church leaders used that method, but as a simple nun she was there to help people, not turn them away. "Are you troubled, miss?"
Mrs. Voorhees mumbled something to herself, and then cackled lightly. "Troubled? Those little shits let my boy Jason drown!" Without warning Voorhees lunged forward, a long knife in her hand, surprising Sister Amanda and drawing blood in her arm, tearing her sleeve apart. As Krueger stumbled backward to get out of her attacker’s way, Mrs. Voorhees continued the assault, charging forward and brandishing the knife wildly.
Summoning all of her strength, Amanda swung at Mrs. Voorhees. Despite her obvious inexperience in hand-to-hand combat- nuns aren’t known for their impressive displays of force- the knife went flying out of Voorhees’s hand. Her efforts didn’t go unpunished, however: she opened up a brand new six-inch gash down the outside of her arm, leaving her vulnerable for a fist to the stomach.
As Sister Amanda doubled over, the breath knocked out of her by the Voorhees's fist, Mrs. Voorhees picks up a gravestone that had been kicked out of the ground. She lifts it surprisingly easily for a woman of her age, and in one fluid motion hits the nun over the head with it. Amanda goes down, broken pieces of gravestone around and on top of her. She gets a glimpse of the name, and is shocked: the grave was of a 7 year-old girl who had died that year. It was the sins of her son that were being used to punish her.
With Amanda temporarily out of the picture, Voorhees retrieves her knife. Amanda struggles to get up, held down by a combination of guilt, fear, and gravity itself. Knowing she has no choice, she picks up the biggest piece of the girl's gravestone. "Forgive me, child" she says, and throws the stone directly into Mrs. Voorhees's face. Her aggressor off-balance, Sister Amanda runs into the nearby church for sanctuary, making the sign of a cross hoping it will give her protection in the sanctuary.
Moments later, Pamela Voorhees enters the church, her 8-inch knife extended in front of her and her eyes darting from side to side, searching for her quarry. Amanda hid, waiting for the opportune moment to strike. Damn her, she thought, coming into the house of God with the intent to do murder. The thought again reminded her of her son: he wouldn't hesitate to harm a child inside a church, and doubtless one of his maniac fathers had committed crimes within this building. The thought that he was released and free on the streets did nothing to console her- though had she known he would be dead by midnight she might have been relieved.
As the murderer of Camp Crystal Lake came down the aisle, Amanda chose her moment. Baptismal font in her hand- another travesty against God, but a necessary one she would repent for- she leapt out, hitting Pamela over the head.
Voorhees caught the attack, getting thrown back into a pew but remaining upright. She grabbed onto the font with both hands, struggling to take it from Krueger’s hands. Sister Amanda held onto her improvised weapon for a few moments, but she was no comparison to the mad strength of Mrs. Voorhees. With a grunt of rage, she knocked Krueger to the ground and held the font uncontested.
Amanda quickly got to her feet, running as fast as she could. She knew now that she would lose a head-on confrontation against the madwoman every time. Her only hope was to either outrun her or get her lost in the church. She needed to get help, or distract her from the possibility of an attack. She sprinted for the stairs, hoping to lose her assailant in the network of offices leading to the balcony. She ran through office after office, twisting and turning and not taking the time to look behind herself to check on her success- she was running for her life now, putting all of her energy into just moving.
Eventually, Sister Amanda arrived at the balcony. She had run through so many rooms- some more than once- she had lost count. Out of breath, she allowed herself to slow and turn around. Catching her breath, she allowed herself a thought of relief. I’ve lost her. I can get help. No. She’s too dangerous. She’ll either escape and kill more people, or do worse. She turned into the music director’s office- the one adjacent to the balcony- taking a letter opener from his desk as she went in to look for Mrs. Voorhees. It was now or never.
As she began to search through the priest’s offices for Voorhees, she heard a noise behind her. She spun, letter opener held out in front of her, toward the noise. It was Mrs. Voorhees, standing completely calm. She had underestimated the sense of direction of a woman who spent her time terrorizing and sabotaging a summer camp. Voorhees held her knife and smiled murderously.
“I only came to this town to visit my sister, Ethil,” she said menacingly. With a lightning-fast movement, she held Amanda by the back of her robe, face plush against the office wall. “But thanks to you, I’ll be forced to leave early!”
Before Amanda could protest, Voorhees twisted the robe in her hand, tightening the collar into a choke. She pulled her, fighting all the way, back to the balcony. “I can’t have myself blamed for this- I must avenge my Jason!” She took a piece of decorative rope she had taken from one of the priest’s offices, and draped it around Amanda’s neck. She tied it to the balcony, and threw Krueger over.
By the time the police came, Pamela Voorhees was back in New Jersey. Given the date of the hanging, the police didn’t even dust the body for fingerprints. They were more worried about what they were going to do to Amanda’s son, Fred, later on that night.