Crisis

The next day, Jason finally got to eat apple pie, and it tasted good. It was less sweet, and more like Mom's.

The weather soon turned cold. Even in a place this hot, November was enough for a thin layer of frost to form on him. Jason could feel the cold, but he could not freeze to death. He did not like this time of year, either. It meant he would be cold as well as hungry.

Celebrating the New Year cost money, and so did Christmas. East and West agreed on that. Some thugs naturally set their sights on this exceptionally wealthy man who lived alone with no neighbors around.

To them, this was a sure bet with no chance of losing. The prospect of profit drove people who knew full well about Crystal Lake's fearsome reputation to sneak into this forbidden ground anyway.

After all, this man had lived here for so long without anything happening to him. Maybe those missing people had just been eaten by something, right?

It was nighttime. The three deliberately drove a circuit around town before taking a trail behind the mountain into the hills. Two men and a woman arrived outside the house in their car late at night.

The tall, thin man bringing up the rear spat and spoke quietly.

"Rich people are never any good. If we steal a few things from him, it's only what he owes us. Who knows how many poor people like us he squeezed that money out of? What gives him the right to live in comfort?"

The other man held a gun and spoke viciously.

"Just look at him. He's obviously a pothead. With that body of his, he must've spent plenty. Once we get inside, start searching the first floor. When we get to his bedroom, just kill him. If you can't hold him down alone, shout, and then..." He shook the old gun in his hand.

The woman stared covetously at the car. Even around here, it would fetch a good price.

But it was too conspicuous for them to drive away, so she merely kicked its tires twice to vent her frustration.

The tall, thin man poked a piece of wire into the lock a few times, then froze. Only then did they realize.

He had not locked the door at all.

"Let him regret it in hell." The leader yanked the door open.

The instant their car entered the woods, Jason had broken into a sprint toward them.

Slaughter! Death! Peace! Protection!

These things had been carved into Jason's bones since his second awakening. They were the anchor that had brought him crawling out of hell.

They started searching the first floor, but unfortunately, it was just a combined living room and kitchen. The only valuable things were the large fireplace blazing in the center and the television. Unfortunately, they could not take those with them, either.

Then they went upstairs. There were three rooms on the second floor. After a moment's hesitation, they decided to try the study first. If there was a safe, they would grab him and demand the combination.

Before they could search thoroughly, they discovered to their shock that, aside from the three-tier built-in bookcase, the bottom of the cabinet beside the soft sofa was filled entirely with cash. Even a rough estimate put it at over three hundred thousand.

Their hands were practically trembling as they frantically stuffed the money into bags. This was enough for all three of them to live comfortably.

If the three of them had gone straight downstairs, gotten into their car, and left, they might really have taken that money away safely and improved their lives. After all, my mind was not clear, and I had genuinely forgotten that money was still in the study.

But in the end, human greed prevailed. If a single study held this much money, what about the bedroom?

With that in mind, they quickly made a plan. The two men would go in and pin him down, force him to tell them where else there was money in the house, then shoot him and burn the house down. No one would ever know. Their original thought of "just getting a little money for Christmas" had swollen to this point like a sponge soaking up water.

They were going to kill someone.

The leader said he had only himself to blame. Who told him to build his house out in the middle of nowhere?

They were bewildered as soon as they went in. The woman shivered. Why was the bedroom so cold? Although the man had a large fireplace, he never lit it, but the temperature inside the house was at least better than outside. Yet when they entered the bedroom, it felt even colder than the snowy winter night outdoors.

Of course, they did not know that those dark shadows were whispering around me. I curled beneath the covers with my hands over my ears, but those voices still seeped in everywhere. It was as though I were not a human being of flesh and blood, but a puddle of trampled sludge, garbage that sickened anyone who so much as looked at it. For once, those evil things spared a little attention to look at the three people outside.

The two men exchanged a glance, then swiftly threw back the covers and pinned me down, only to find my eyes half-open and utterly unresponsive.

"Dead?" Only then did they notice how cold the arms they were holding were. They hardly felt like a human body. The two exchanged a glance, and the leader suspiciously checked my breathing, discovering I was still alive. But I clearly did not look as though I were sleeping normally, nor was I normally awake. They remembered the rumors about me in town.

"Is he having an episode?"

One of them reached out and slapped my face hard, only to find that I did not react at all.

"Hey, can you understand what I'm saying?"

The person on the bed remained oblivious, as though he were not a living person, but a lifeless puppet.

The two men began to find it creepy. The tall, thin man swallowed and looked blankly at the boss.

It was clearly the boss's first time encountering anything like this, too. He only wanted to get this over with quickly and turned to ask the woman.

"Lina, is there a safe in the room?"

The bedroom was fairly large, but very bare. Almost everything was visible at a glance.

The woman searched for a while, then shook her head.

The eerie feeling made the man's skin crawl. He steeled himself, climbed on top, and shattered my head with a gunshot.

It was his first time killing someone, after all, and he was still unnerved. He swallowed, then ordered them to search again. Within minutes, they ran outside, planning to splash gasoline around, set the place on fire, and leave immediately.

None of them dared look again at the man on the bed with his head shattered. After hurriedly finding cash and a few watches in the bedside table, the woman went back to the car for a lighter. The two men went to get the motor oil from the car and stood holding two cans, waiting for her to return. But they waited and waited, and over twenty minutes passed. It took less than five minutes to walk here from the car. Puzzled, the leader told the other man to go back to the car and check while he stayed on guard.

The woman rummaged near the car window for the lighter. She finally found it, only to suddenly see what seemed to be a figure flashing past outside the car. Startled, she still assumed one of her accomplices had grown impatient and come to check on her, and instinctively climbed out.

But a pair of hands clamped around her head. The figure was absurdly tall, well over two meters. Both hands completely covered his head, including his mouth. Before a single sound could escape, her entire head was crushed to pieces. This was the hardest bone in the human body, yet before this monster, it was no different from a block of tofu. The woman collapsed to the ground like a puddle of sludge.

And what of this terrifying killer? He did not hurry to deal with the two men. Instead, he stared somewhat blankly at the house. He sensed...

Then towering rage swept through his entire body, as though it were being roasted over a fire. His chest swelled terribly, as if it were about to burst.

Soon, another man delivered himself right to him.

A tire blocked the view of the woman's head. When the tall, thin man saw her lying on the ground, he immediately went over to help her up, only to see a towering man standing beside him.

Before he could shout, the figure appeared before him, one hand pressing down on the crown of his head and the other gripping his shoulder. Before the man could react, an effortless twist sent his head falling off like a bottle cap.

The mere lives of two intruders had not washed away his fury. He turned his gaze to the man in the distance.

One more...

The man waiting there suddenly shuddered, as though some terrifying carnivorous beast had fixed its eyes on him. Fear raised goose bumps all over his body. Trembling slightly, he took a cigarette pack from his pocket and pulled out a cigarette, intending to light it, only to realize the lighter had not arrived yet. He looked toward the car, but it was a murky stretch of darkness, with no one in sight. He silently cursed a few times, only to suddenly make out a hazy figure in the dark.

Finally. He rubbed his hands, using fantasies to dispel his fear. Once he got out of here, he would buy a house this big, too. He would go to New York, or somewhere else, buy a nice car, and then get a blonde, blue-eyed girlfriend.

But his breathing gradually caught. That towering figure did not look like either of his companions. Only when it drew close, under the light from the house, did he see it clearly: a tall figure in tattered clothes, with a burlap sack over its head. Most terrifying were the hands hanging at its sides, along with its chest and abdomen, all splattered with blood and something else.

He shouted and instinctively tried to run. Only at this moment did he realize that the forbidden ground his elders had repeatedly warned him about was not an empty threat. But it was too late. The figure was already before him. It thrust two fingers from each hand into his mouth and pulled hard. His upper and lower jaws tore apart. Blood even splashed onto the glass door three meters away, spreading into a blurred stain.

Jason paused briefly, then opened the door. He sensed that presence, lingering on the verge of dispersing, but such strangeness was nothing to Jason. He followed the stairs to the second floor. The bedroom door was not closed, and through the gap, he could see most of the young man's body slumped limply on the bed.

He walked inside. The young man's eyes had not even closed completely, and the hole in his head was a little larger than a ping-pong ball. A broad patch of bright red blood had spread across the pale quilt.

Those eyes were not even as good as glass marbles. They were a lifeless black, and his entire face was utterly ashen.