Tracy and Tommy were in the kitchen together, preparing snacks and drinks. Tracy found it funny how easy it was to slip back into old routines, even though they hadn’t seen each other in months. Maybe that’s just how it was with family, she thought. She was busy arranging cheese and crackers on a platter while her father cracked ice from a tray into a bowl. Beside him, liters of soda lined the counter, along with a couple of beers. The kitchen had been partially remodeled—the cabinets and walls looked great, but the floor was still a work in progress, with cracked linoleum peeling in places.

“You’ve done a good job here, Dad,” Tracy said as she folded cheese slices into smaller squares, trying to make them look perfect.

“Yeah.” Tommy dropped the last ice cube into the bowl. “It’s starting to feel like home again.” He paused for a moment. “You know, you’re more than welcome to stay. I could use the help.”

She smiled. “Oh, just my help, huh?” She walked over to the sink to wash her hands, their usual sarcastic rapport returning. “I’ll keep that in mind.” Tommy nodded and began placing the food platter and ice bowl on a larger serving tray.

“So... these people...” he began.

“Yeah?”

“You just brought them over here. What’s their deal, exactly?”

Tracy looked at her father. “Exactly what they said. I think they’re genuine.”

He looked down at the serving tray thoughtfully. “To be honest, being out here and working on this house has helped me a lot.”

“Really?”

He nodded. “Yeah, I haven’t thought about... that... in a while. I think having something to focus on, a purpose, has helped push it all away.” He gave a half-smile. “Sorry, spend enough time with therapists, and you start to sound like one.”

Suddenly, Tracy felt a pang of guilt. Had she triggered something in her father, starting another downward spiral? It was one of her biggest fears—that she might somehow make things worse. “Dad... I’m sorry. I can call this off. It’s no big deal,” she said softly. “Honestly, I’m just glad to see you.” She smiled.

Tommy looked at her and smiled back. “No, it’s okay. Maybe this will do some good. Hug?”

“The old Jarvis sandwich?” She grinned. “Bring it in.” They hugged tightly before breaking apart. Tracy picked up the serving tray while Tommy grabbed the drinks and beers. They walked out from the kitchen and into the main living room.

The living room had new couches, and the floor had been stripped bare of the old linoleum, though the weathered wood still needed work. A single wooden chair sat by the newly renovated fireplace. Kelsey was sitting at one end of the couch, with Levi behind her, manning the camera and tripod. Adam stood off to the side, fiddling with the sound equipment, pointing the boom mic around, adjusting settings.

“Here we go,” Tommy announced as they set the items down on the mahogany coffee table. “We’ve got sodas, water, and a couple of beers for you guys.”

“Awesome, thanks, man.” Adam walked over and grabbed a beer. It was Bud Light, but he wasn’t picky—beer was beer. Levi also took a Bud Light, shrugging slightly. He was a bit of a beer snob, but beggars couldn’t be choosers. Kelsey filled a glass with ice and poured herself some cherry Coke. She wasn’t much of a soda drinker, but she figured she’d indulge—besides, cherry Coke brought back memories of being twelve, and she wasn’t quite prepared for the wave of nostalgia that hit her as the soda fizzed and cracked.

Tommy pulled up the old wooden chair, cracked open his beer with a satisfying hiss, and took a hearty swig. Gordon bounced over to him happily and lay down at his feet. Tommy reached down to scratch her ears, and the dog sighed contentedly—it missed him too.

“Mr. Jarvis,” Kelsey began after a sip of her drink, “thank you for meeting with us. We really appreciate it.”

“Please, call me Tom,” he replied. “And it’s no problem. So, you’re a true crime show?”

“Yes, basically. We like to highlight cases like yours—things that have a bit of mystery to them.” Tracy sat down on the other end of the couch, helping herself to a cracker topped with cheese and salami.

“They’ve already spoken to a few people in town,” Tracy said, her mouth half-full, and she quickly swallowed, a little embarrassed. “Sorry. I was there when they spoke with Dan Hollister.”

Tommy nodded, a hint of nostalgia in his eyes. “There’s a name I haven’t heard in a while. How is he?”

Kelsey exchanged glances with her crew before answering. “He seems fine—still hates the sheriff, though.”

Tommy chuckled. “Ah, so nothing’s changed.”

Kelsey laughed. “Oh, Megan Garris told us to say hello.”

Tommy’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. “Megan? Wow, that’s a blast from the past.”

“Who’s that?” Tracy asked.

“An old girlfriend. Met her before your mother.”

“Ooh, I’ll have to press for details later.” They all laughed.

Kelsey took another sip of her cherry Coke. “So, is it alright if we start the interview now?” She glanced at her phone—still no word from Jeremy. She told herself she’d bring it up if she still hadn’t heard anything when they were done.

“Yeah, that’s fine,” Tommy replied, taking another swig of beer.

Kelsey nodded and signaled Levi and Adam. “Okay, I’m with Tom Jarvis, one of the three survivors of the second Crystal Lake massacre. Thank you for being with us tonight, Tom.”

“No problem.”

“It’s been about thirty-three years since all that happened. Can you tell us how it still affects you—or doesn’t—today?”

Tommy smiled wryly. “Well, that’s a whole can of worms, isn’t it?”

“I’m sorry, I can ask something else...” Kelsey flushed, suddenly nervous. “I had other opening questions; I swear they’re better.”

He laughed. “No, I’m just messing with you.” He took another sip and adjusted his posture. “Well, as I’m sure my daughter can attest, asking how it affected me is like asking, ‘Is water wet?’ It affects me every day, even in small ways.”

“Do you mind expanding on that?”

“Not at all. I’ve spent most of my life talking to doctors—it’s almost reflex at this point.” He cleared his throat. “For the first few years, I saw him everywhere. Every time I closed my eyes, there he was. I’d turn my head, and there he’d be. Eventually, those visions faded, thanks to a lot of therapy. But it left me paranoid. For a while, I worried he’d come for me, no matter where I went. The scars are still there, even if the old fears have mostly gone.” He glanced at Tracy, who shook her head with a knowing smile.

“I was told this was the home it happened in—your old family home. Is that right?”

Tommy swallowed and nodded. “Yep. We’re in it right now.”

“I don’t know if I could live in the same town, let alone the same house. Is that part of your therapy?”

“Ah.” He grimaced. “My therapist disagreed with me staying here, if that’s what you’re asking.”

“Then why stay?”

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He paused, considering his answer. “Honestly, at first, I wanted him to find me.”

Tracy wasn’t shocked by his answer—she knew this about her father. It may have been the final straw that broke the camel’s back.

“Jason Voorhees?” Kelsey asked.

He nodded. “I thought that if I saw him and killed him, it’d make me better. But then, being back here, seeing how the house had deteriorated, I got inspired to turn it into a home again. And slowly, I stopped thinking about him as much. So, in a weird way, coming here turned out to be therapeutic, just not in the way I expected.”

“So you no longer believe he’s out there?”

He arched an eyebrow. “I didn’t say that. He’s out there—I’ve seen him.”

Tracy choked on her cracker, eyes widening. Everyone turned to look at her, and she blushed. “Ack, sorry. Dad, are you serious?”

Kelsey turned back to Tommy, nodding. “Yeah, I think that was my next question.”

He chuckled, as if what he’d just said was common knowledge to him. “I’ve seen him twice—just stomping around out there. I think he actively avoids this house.”

“Why do you think that is?” Kelsey asked.

“Maybe it’s because this was the place where he first met resistance? Or maybe because the people who put him down came from here.”

“Excuse my bluntness Tom, but if you ‘put him down’ as you say, then how can you claim you’ve seen him ‘stomping around’?”

The question hung there, resting uncomfortably in the silence. Tommy gathered his thoughts, feeling their weight pressing against the inside of his skull. So many thoughts. Most of them he had kept buried for years—some had only surfaced once, to a doctor who had listened intently before deciding Tommy needed to be committed. Since then, he learned to guard those thoughts carefully. To lock them up tight, not letting them see the light of day. But they had asked, hadn’t they? And he found himself wondering if this really was a safe space.

Tommy's gaze drifted to Kelsey’s eyes, searching for some kind of reassurance. She watched him intently, her expression a mixture of curiosity and empathy. There was kindness in her eyes. It was unsettling, but also somehow comforting—something he hadn’t felt in a long time. It reminded him of Trish.

He hesitated, swallowing hard. His voice was quieter when he spoke, almost as if he was speaking more to himself than to anyone else. “I never told anyone this… well, except one doctor. And that didn’t go so well,” he said, allowing himself a slight, humorless smile. He leaned back in his chair, his fingers drumming absently against the armrest. Kelsey nodded, a silent invitation to continue.

“I spent the first few years just trying to understand my anger,” Tommy began, his voice steady but tinged with exhaustion. "After that, I tried to understand him—understand Jason. I thought if I could figure him out, maybe I could beat him. Maybe I could finally be free of him. But it was like trying to look into a mirror that didn’t reflect anything back. Just emptiness. It drove me crazy, literally. I spent years trying to make sense of something that didn’t have sense. And that kind of thing can eat you alive.”

He paused, his eyes glancing around the room, looking but not really seeing. His thoughts seemed miles away. “Eventually, I tried to understand the town instead. What made Crystal Lake different? Why here, of all places? And that’s when I started digging into the past. Dating Megan helped a lot—she loved history. She told me something once—something about the settlers who first came here and it’s always stuck with me.”

Tommy’s gaze fell to his hands, which were now clasped in his lap. “The original settlers—back in the 1700s—said there were no settlements around the lake. No camps, no villages, nothing. The local tribes avoided it. They said the lake was alive, that there was something about it that wasn’t right. I know it sounds crazy, but I think they were on to something. Maybe not in the way they thought, but… I think something happened when Pamela lost her son and she spilled blood because of it. I think the rage—the grief that Pamela felt—did something, and only got worse when he came back and spilled some more. All that blood, all that rage—hers and his—poisoned this place. And that’s what keeps him going. That’s why he keeps coming back. The rage. It’s like he’s fueled by it.”

He looked up, meeting Kelsey’s eyes again. She was watching him, her brow slightly furrowed, but she didn’t look away. She didn’t flinch. Tommy took that as a good sign.

“The first time I saw him after all of that,” Tommy continued, his voice growing even quieter, “I thought he’d come for me. I was ready. I thought it was finally time. But he didn’t. He looked at me—he looked right at me—and then he just moved on. He kept going. And that’s when I realized… it’s not about me. It’s not about any of us, really. He’s something else entirely. He doesn’t have a purpose, he doesn’t have a goal. He just is. And all we can do is stay out of his way.”

The silence returned, even heavier than before, each word hanging like a dark cloud over the room. Tommy looked at Kelsey, her face a mix of emotions—sympathy, fear, and curiosity all rolled into one.

He sighed deeply, feeling a strange sense of relief. “I’ve tried to outrun him. I’ve tried to understand him. And now? Now, I think the best thing any of us can do is just try to live. Because he’s out there, and he always will be. But we can’t let him take any more from us than he already has.”

Tommy’s words hung there, unanswered, as if there were no response that would ever be enough.

“I think we’ll all need time to process that,” Kelsey finally broke the silence. “What about your sister, what does she think?”

“She passed away about a year ago.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay. You didn’t know. It was the catalyst for me coming back here—it put me in another downward spiral. I think it hit her harder than it did me, which says a lot.”

“How so?”

“She was just seventeen. We both got bounced around from psych hospital to psych hospital. Anytime either of us seemed to make progress, something would happen that’d put us back in the system. I eventually got adopted—maybe I learned all the right things to say.” He chuckled sadly. “But Trish never did. She saw our mother die and had to put on a brave face for me immediately after. I can only imagine what that did to her.”

Kelsey nodded, her throat suddenly dry. She took another sip of soda. This interview was harder than she’d imagined. “Let’s talk more about the aftermath.”

“Okay.”

“What happened after you put the assailant—”

“Jason.”

“Right, Jason. Let me ask this first: how do you know it was Jason Voorhees who attacked you and your family?”

“It was the house we were in.”

“What about this house?”

“No, no.” He shook his head. “It didn’t end here in our house—it ended at his.”

“The popular story is that you mortally wounded him here.”

“Well, the popular story is bullshit. My sister and I wandered through the woods until we found a house—it was Pamela Voorhees’ house.”

“How did you know?”

“There was a severed head in the back room of that house. Everyone my age had heard the story—Pamela Voorhees, whose son drowned, and she killed a bunch of people for it until she was beheaded. People said her son came back from the dead to get revenge. When I saw that head, I just put two and two together.”

He paused, taking another swig of beer, finishing the bottle. “When he confronted us, I called his name. I said, ‘Jason.’”

He paused again, the room holding its breath. Finally, Kelsey spoke. “What happened then?”

“He turned to face me. I don’t know if he recognized his name or if it was just confusion. But I know what I think.”

“What happened after you put Jason down?” Kelsey asked.

“We tried to head back home. Maybe we could get the power back on, call the police.” He shook his head. “I still remember stepping over his body, thinking it was over.”

“Did the police pick you up at home?”

“No, they found us halfway there. Seeing those flashing lights, I could finally breathe. But then, everything we’d been through really sank in. It was the start of the rest of our lives.”

“Did you tell them about the house?”

“Of course. We told them where we’d come from—that he was still there. They swept us away to the station, asked us so many questions.”

“Do you remember anything specific?”

He shook his head. “Not really. The rest of that night is a blur. I just remember feeling detached, recounting everything, feeling like I was outside my body. And then we heard—he’d been leaving a trail of bodies the entire weekend, and they’d been tracking him. Trish was furious—she thought people should have been warned.”

“Why weren’t they?”

“I’ve heard all the excuses. They didn’t want to cause a panic; they didn’t realize it was connected. I don’t buy it. Maybe they just didn’t want to admit how much they’d screwed up. I know they were glad when I was sent to a state hospital. I wouldn’t let up and they hated me for it.”

“That, and you started dating the sheriff’s daughter?” Tracy asked, a knowing smile on her face. Tommy nodded.

Kelsey looked down at her phone—they’d been talking for an hour, and still no word from Jeremy. “I think we should stop here for now,” she said, glancing at Levi.

“What’s up?” Levi asked.

Kelsey held up her phone. “Jeremy still isn’t back, and he hasn’t texted in a while. I’m starting to get worried.”

“Maybe his phone’s dead?” Adam suggested.

“Maybe. But it’s been a long time.”

Tommy perked up. “Out where?”

“Their van broke down off the main road. He stayed behind to wait for AAA,” Tracy replied.

Tommy stood suddenly. “Why didn’t you say anything? We could’ve gone and picked him up.”

The four of them exchanged glances—why hadn’t they thought of that? “We thought he’d be here by now,” Kelsey said.

Tommy looked at her for a moment, shaking his head. “I’ll get the keys to my Jeep, and we’ll go get him, alright?” He looked at Tracy, tilting his head toward the kitchen. “Can I talk to you for a second?”

“Sure,” she said, following him around the corner. He let her walk ahead, glancing back at the others to make sure they weren’t listening before turning back to her, concern etched across his face.

“What’s up, Dad?” she whispered.

He paced slightly, then stopped, hands on his hips. “You heard everything I said in there, right?”

Tracy looked confused. “Yeah, Dad. Of course I did.”

“Then you know why I look like this.”

The color drained from her face. She didn’t know whether to fully believe him, but she couldn’t deny the fear in his eyes. “Dad…” she began, but he stopped her, placing his hands on her shoulders.

“I don’t want this to ruin our reunion. But I’m scared. I know you don’t believe me, but he’s out there. Coming here was risky enough, but leaving someone out there alone... You should’ve told me.”

“Dad, please. Let’s not worry about that until we have to, okay?”

He thought for a moment, then nodded. “Yeah, okay. I can do that.” He grabbed his keys from the counter, smiling at her. “Thank you. I’m really glad you’re here.”

“Me too,” she replied, her face softening. They returned to the living room, the others looking up expectantly.

“Let’s head out there and get your friend.”