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Everything is black… a cacophony surrounds her, begging her to open her eyes. Lightning flashes, illuminating the skeletal fingers of half dead trees which formed a cage all around. Thunder erupts with a blast so loud it causes ringing in the quiet moments between blinding strikes. Crying and moaning, desperately running towards a lonely cabin, rain falling over its old bones.

Something grabs her hand, startled, she nearly jumps from her own skin… turning, she sees a teenage boy, his voice full of false bravado. "What's the matter Laurie, too scary? C'mon, it's just a movie!" The boy laughed. She hears a familiar voice respond. "Ben, please… honestly, why do you have to be such a jerk? Like really,"

The gravitational pull of dread tugs at her senses… The ethereal edges of this reality come into focus, she now realizes it’s a movie theater, she sees shadowy outlines everywhere… The audience, their heads framed by the strobing light of the screen. Strangers lean against one another, distant screams, and callous laughter.

Her eyes forced back on the screen and she sees a young girl screaming...

"Tommy, get the hell outta here!"

A waterlogged and decaying slab of meat closes in... the girl slashes wildly at her attacker. Crisscrossing strikes with a worn machete, its ragged edge slicing the monster across it's barrel chest. Labored breathing escapes through the holes of a worn and yellowed hockey mask, the only protest, the only reaction to what should be grievous pain. The monster falls like a great oak onto the young woman, forcing her down. She struggles with all her might to fight it off, slapping and clawing at the immovable monster.

"JASON!"

She feels a beating in her chest…The familiar feeling of a pounding heart, but strangely she knows it's not her heart. It's happening again, she's trapped, an unknown passenger. The world around her shrouded in a soupy fog, she wonders... if I can just focus… Can I hold onto the details? This has happened before, but nothing like this… This was different.

"JASON!"

The scream shatters her focus… yanking her back to the screen. Pulling her back into the reality of the vessel she was a passenger in.

The young girl, drowning in the unbearable mass of this nightmare… her strength waning when suddenly it stops. Recollection halts its relentless assault. A name… it's name… the killer slowly rises, an uneasy calm washes over it… driven by supernatural purpose. The music takes an eerie and unearthly turn making her feel like she's trapped with this girl… both of them drowning in fear.

The monster turns and focuses on a small bald boy, sparse patches of hair, dark sunken eyes. This visage creates a somber recollection in the monster.

Her host grabs the arms of her chair, she can feel the anxiety gripping her with its black tendrils. She feels everything her host feels, every emotion, every pain. She hears Ben say "c'mon he looks so stupid..." as if trying to reassure himself that it's all just a movie. She senses contempt deep inside.

As her focus turns back to the screen she hears the boy say "remember Jason… don't you remember?" The killer closes in, shadows sliding across the wet pale yellow mask.

"Remember Jason!"

The hulking maniac reaches for the small, bald, and sickly looking boy... the young girl rises behind the hulking monster, wielding vengeance in the form of cold steel. Anxiety's grip starts to loosen as her hopes rise with the girl. The young woman attacks with a maternal fury... striking at the beast with its own tool of vengeance. The machete slashes. The mask flies free. As the killer spins to face her, the soft light of the cabin washes away the murky shadows that paint the killer's face… revealing the twisted abomination underneath. A face molded like clay by years of pain.

The audience gasps as one, their cries and cheers echoing through the darkness. Fear takes hold as they watch in horror, seeing the girl drop her only hope, the machete rattling as it hits the ground. She recoils as the monster's true face is revealed, the sickly-looking boy jumping down as the music crescendos. The tension is palpable as the audience watches on, each one silently begging the protagonist to survive.

The girl screams, "no... no... no!"

Her stammering declaration of objection, a physical manifestation of a mental negotiation. Desperate to hold the shattering walls of her reality together as she stares into the twisted face of a nightmare made of soggy decaying flesh. A nightmare who's unbelievable existence pounds on the fabric of her reality. Looking into the eyes of the impossible, her walls start to crumble as does her ability to fight… The boy grasps the weapon, the monster sensing danger spins to confront the mirror image of itself from an almost forgotten time. The nightmare reaches toward the boy, it's fury looking to snuff out this weaker version of itself, a faint hint of sadness and recollection in its long dead eyes.

She feels sadness, a pity for the twisted monster.

The boy strikes. A cold wet thud fills the darkness of the theater. The machete strikes hard and deep into the gnarled face of the killer. The creature continues to move toward the boy, determination driving it forward… The darkness erupts, the screams are deafening as the audience cheers.

Fear grabs her tight, Palmer feels everything her host feels. Unable to control, only to sense the events unfolding.

Ben, screams "Yeah, take that you fucker,"

She sees the monster stumble once more, driven by some dark instinct, one more step before it falls. It crashes down onto its own tool of vengeance. The immense weight of its own body gives the weapon the drive to cleave deeper into its own twisted face. Jason’s vulnerable head slides down the length of the blade, slicing and rending his face in two.

She hears herself whisper "oh god!" As she sees the carnage unfold. The eye and face of the killer twitching as the weapon claims its own master... she can't bear to watch and turns away looking down into the darkness.

She hears Ben say to himself "How in the fuck did they do that?" And chuckles at his own incredulity.

Her stomach turns... She leans into Ben and whispers "I'm leaving!" He responds with a cold retort

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"Your loss babe!"

She turns and races into the darkness. The dim lights at her feet guide her to the safety of the lobby. She sees the cone of light from the projector dancing above her head… cutting like a saber through the smokey darkness. The beams' bright elegance perverted into a dark dance; beauty turned to nightmare by the twisted mind of some unknown director.

They emerge through the swaying doors into the lobby, clerks attentively cleaning and getting ready for the sea of people about to emerge from the theater behind her. She feels her heart start to slow as familiar sights and sounds replace the gruesome horror she had just witnessed.

In the background, she can hear "When doves Cry" softly playing over the lobby speakers. She focuses on the familiar lyrics in a vain attempt to wash away the darkness.

"Dig if you will…" the lyrics fill her thoughts. Easing her racing mind.

As her vessel's body moves, the two glide through the lobby, Palmer soaking in the details all around her. The movie poster for Ghostbusters hangs on the wall, featuring the iconic image of the ghostly "No Ghosts" logo. The scent of freshly popped popcorn fills the air, mingling with the sweet aroma of candy and the tang of soda. The chatter of attendants mixes with the soft murmur of the coming attraction playing on a nearby TV screen.

Through the hazy veil, she tries to focus. What’s happening... More importantly, when is it happening? Had this already happened or was this a glimpse of something else?

The lobby is bathed in a pale orange glow, illuminated by flickering Jack o' lanterns that leer at her through the darkness. Spiders and crude decorations hang from every surface, and she notices a poster advertising a Monster Movie Fest featuring the classic Universal Movie Monsters, their iconic images reaching out to grab her.

It's all about the details.

The Colonial, she's at the goddamned Colonial... of course! How could I be so stupid? Recollection striking hard, bringing this nightmare into the starkest focus.

Her eyes scan the dimly lit lobby, a young girl is at the cash behind the concession stand. Above her the low hum of neon lights buzz, casting their harsh light out into the void. She looks bored. Blowing a huge Hubba Bubba bubble, it expands… Bigger and bigger until the gum is almost translucent, with nothing left to give it lets out a POP, the breath that gives it life spilling out as it limply deflates over the bored girls cherry red lips. Bits of gum sticking to her plump lips, a sure sign she's been chewing the same piece for a long time. The floor was perpetually sticky, she could feel its gentle tug on her new sneakers.

Through the darkness, they see a dark shape. A familiar cold washes over her. The black tendrils of fear return, grasping at her. She feels the heart inside her chest start to thump again. Pumping blood and fear through her body. She knows that shape, they've both seen that shape before.

Her head turns and nervously looks at her watch, the face reads 10:35, it's the 24th.

Details.

The doors to the lobby burst open as a group of rowdy kids stumble in, their laughter and cheers filling the once-quiet space. The chaos spreads to every corner of the lobby as they push and jostle each other, high on the thrill of the horror movie they just watched. As she looks up, she realizes the ominous shape she had seen earlier is gone, disappearing into the night.

Her eyes frantically scan the crowd looking for a friendly face.

She spots Ben chatting with his friends and grimaces as he grabs at his face, mimicking the horror they had just witnessed on the screen. "Why do I put up with this idiot?" the thoughts of her host reverberate in her mind. She couldn't agree more. With her newfound clarity, she recognizes Ben, Ben Trammer... and that can only mean one thing... "I'm Laurie," she realizes with a jolt. "Sweet baby Jesus, I'm in Laurie's body,."

As she navigates through the swarm of people, her slim frame barely noticeable amidst the chaos, they finally reach Ben. But he barely acknowledges their presence, too engrossed in trying to impress his friends. "I would've kicked that guy's ass, bro," he boasts with false bravado.

Details, it's all in the details, she notices he's wearing a white t-shirt, jeans, and an orange and yellow team jacket. An emblem of a wild boar with its tusks wrapping up both sides of its snarled snout. The Razorbacks. Their school mascot.

They all move towards the doors. Everyone's talking about the movie they had just witnessed. Ben yelled to his buddies "he's definitely dead this time, no way he's coming back!" "Not this fucking time!" "NO WAY!" They all laugh.

They burst through the grand doors of the Colonial, into the chilly night air. The bright lights of the marquee slice through the darkness, casting an eerie glow on everything around them. She shivers, feeling cold and isolated as her eyes scan the darkness for any signs of that familiar danger.

Once again, she catches a glimpse of the shape in the distance. It looms in the darkness, so dark that even the night can't contain it. It's always there, lurking, watching. A feeling of unease washes over her.

Her body pulls at Ben, Palmer hears a meek voice say "it's 10:30, I need to get home, and I'm really scared!" Ben, annoyed that he's not the center of attention anymore, looks down and says "babe… C'mon, it's only a movie!" "Well I need to get home, my mom is like, totally gonna kill me," he responds coolly... "well you're going to have to call yer folks, I'm going to the park with Glen and the boys to down a coupla brews,'' Without waiting for a response he pulls her in and gives her a wet sloppy kiss, a kiss he's sure is the greatest kiss that's ever been bestowed on Laurie’s lips... and just like that, he turns and walks away. Yelling... "see ya, tomorrow, babe!" "Let's go boys!" "These brewskies ain't gonna drink themselves!" He barks to his minions.

"What a fucking asshole," contempt-fueled words run through her mind. "What am I supposed to do now?" The crowd is already starting to dissipate, the chaos dying away as the night reclaims its stillness. She scans the darkness, but the shape is gone. Its hold on her remains.

Across the street, they see a payphone, it's low humming illumination, a lighthouse calling her to safety. Laurie rummages through her purse for a dime to call home. "I can't call, they are going to totally kill me!" "I'll be grounded for a month! All for that idiot and this stupid movie!"

Her thoughts raced. "Mission to Elm, It's only a 10-minute walk!" Her inner voice argued with her better judgment. Fear of punishment won the day and she hurriedly set out down the lonely street. Laurie holds herself tightly, bracing her body against the cold, dark night. Unbeknownst to her, the shape emerges once again, a spectral force sliding from one shadow to the next, far behind her.

As they pass car after parked car, the reflections in the windows create little movie screens, replaying the events they had just witnessed. The hockey-masked killer, stalking his victims one by one. And in the next window, the shape continues to haunt them. They shake their head, trying to regain composure, and whisper to themselves, "Laurie, get a hold of yourself. It's all in your head!"

She focuses on what's real, staring down at her own feet. Singing in her head

"Wake me up before you go-go…” The words trailing off into the cold night.

Her mind drifted to the coming Halloween dance.

As she walks, minutes pass and an uneasy feeling grips her, like cold fingers of strange eyes on the back of her neck. She hurries and dares a quick peek over her shoulder, and there it is again - the shape, standing on the other side of a tall hedge, only perceptible due to the street light a couple of houses beyond. Terrified, she turns down the next street. Thinking to herself "I'll cut down Roxbury, sneak through the Freeling's yard, and bam, I'm home."

Fear pushing her feet faster and faster. She looks back again to see the shape sliding away.

"Don't worry Laurie, you're almost home..." she whispers to herself, a vain attempt to reassure her racing mind.

Faster and faster... house after house. Finally, the Freeling's house. "I just have to cut through and I'm home," She squeezed between the old Station Wagon and the perfectly manicured topiary, she hears Boomer, the Miller's dog, growling barks sending out a warning to the neighborhood. Boomer’s guttural alarm sounding out mere feet from where she shimmied. Nervously she looks forward, into the darkness at the side of the house. "This is it... you've totally got this!" she slides into the shadows... swallowed whole by it.

Moving forward she sees her house. A calm washes over her, that calm only home can provide...

"I made it, now that wasn't so bad, was it?"

The night sky opens its dark jaws momentarily, revealing the stark white moon behind.

She looks to the right and sees the window of the door leading into the Freeling's garage, the light of the moon reflecting and drawing her attention... Laurie sees herself reflected in the cold glass.

Palmer, the passenger, sees herself as well, their two faces become one, layered over one another. She sees the absolute terror in Laurie's face, a cold blank wide-eyed fear. Then her eyes focus and she sees what Laurie sees... the shape emerging from the darkness behind them. The black cold shadow of death. She sees its blank face... it's empty eyes. Those empty eyes... always the same. Lifeless eyes, black eyes, like a doll's eyes.

It reaches out and swallows them both... unable to move, unable to speak. Its hand covers her mouth, strong like a vice, cold like the night itself. Her end has come, she sees the glint of a savage-looking blade. The light of the moon reflecting off of it for a brief second. The shape draws the blade's edge across her neck. The cold steel sliding through her neck like a hot knife through butter. So deep she hears the sound of the knife scraping against Laurie’s spine. Her warm blood flowing over her soft skin. Without a sound, the shape is gone.

She falls to her knees... seeing her home. She crawls as her life flows from the wound in her neck. She sees her father waiting up for her, pacing on the front porch, smoke from his pipe wafting up into the night. A worried look on his loving face, coffee in hand, another on the table for her. A loving father waiting for his girl to return.

She reaches out… trying to call for her Dad. "Daddy, help me!!" Her mind screams but nothing else… no words… no screams. Nothing but the subtle gurgle of her last breaths mixing with the blood bubbling and foaming from her neck. Her vocal cords slashed completely, perfectly.

She falls to the ground and the darkness takes her.

Palmer wakes from the nightmare... grasping at her neck, her own neck. She was back in her body but the fear still gripped her tight. The pain is so real she can't speak, she can't scream.

She looks at the clock... it's midnight, the 25th... It's too late, I'm too late. Still grasping at the pain in her throat. Tears sliding down her face. As the sadness overcomes her.

"Laurie, Jesus... Laurie," as if saying her name aloud will call her back from the darkness. Maybe it WAS just a dream… hoping her reasoning would change what she knew, what she feels to be true.

Out in the cold dark night, the moon was once again swallowed by the black fingers of night. They shattered the stillness of Pitchford Cove, ringing out like the mournful cries of lost souls.

The night erupts, the sirens heralding the shapes return.