The Caretaker
Title: The Caretaker
Chapter No: One
Author: Me!
Email: Mclarenmjude@gmail.com
Fandom: Friday The 13th
Rating: NC-17 for graphic scenes of violence and gore.
Genre: Horror/Mystery
Content: Jason Voorhees/Elissa McCormack
Summary: It was the money that drew her there. The money and a job that had been advertised many times. It was good job, too, and one with an excellent health package. If only she knew how much she would need it.
Disclaimer: The only person I own is Elissa McCormack. Jason Voorhees and Crystal Lake do not belong to me, therefore no money is made from this story.
WARNINGS: Extremely graphic violence, and disturbing murder scenes. Not for the faint hearted or those who cry at Bambi and think Twilight is the epitome of excellence. You do not like blood and guts, then do not read.
Author's Note: I will gladly take any and all comments, especially those helping me improve my writing, but I will not give trolls the time of day, and nor will I bat an eyelash at online bullies who think all stories should be written to their specifications.
Right! There's that out the way, so go grab a cuppa and sit back to enjoy.
Huggles,
Jude xxx
It didn't take a genius to figure out what the sheriff thought of her at first sight. His gaze roved over her frame from head to toe while his eyebrows rose high enough to disappear under his hat. She understood, of course, what with being vertically challenged and skinny as hell. So she made a point to open doors for herself and pull out her own chair, all the while trying to ignore the incredulity that appeared on his weathered face.
Now here she was, sitting in his cozy little office, with only the ticking of a clock to break the uncomfortable silence.
Minutes passed by and nothing was said, until the awkward quiet chaffed on her last nerve.
She stuck out her hand in greeting, which she should have done when she first saw him, but never mind. "I'm Elissa McCormack. I'm here about the job at..."
"Mrs. McCormack," Sheriff Ross stated as he shook her hand, "while I 'preciate ya coming on down so quick..."
"It's Miss. Just Miss," Elissa replied a tad too abruptly. She knew what was coming next and she'd be damned if she let this opportunity go without a fight. In a time when jobs were scarce for the well-educated, and worse for someone with her deck of cards, a job like this was a damn godsend. A home, a car, and an excellent benefits package, which would be a damn life saver for a Type 1 diabetic. Then there was the salary. It was almost eight grand a month, and after living off state handouts for over a year, that eight grand was like rain after a major drought.
Hell, she'd been offered five grand just for coming down to talk about the job. She didn't know why, and frankly she didn't care, not when she had the ability to eat properly tonight, not to mention pay off the large amount of debt she'd wracked up. Sure, she hadn't been a straight A student at school, but she had made it through college with a major in English Lit and a minor in World History, but she had yet to find a job. She always got the same old story, and that well and truly grated on what little pride she had left.
Her diabetes wasn't much help, either. Most companies weren't all too accommodating when it came to needing time off, even for a hospital appointment. Then there was the insulin. Yes, it kept her alive, but one of the side effects was osteoporosis and with her being born diabetic, her bone density had to be checked a lot. Thankfully, all was good on the Western front, so she could afford to relax for a while. Well, at least until the next check.
So here she was, a twenty-nine year old, who seemed to have a terminal case of ne'er do well, and who was about to be told, again, that this job wasn’t for her.
"Miss McCormack?"
The sheriff's voice jolted her out of her mental pity party. "Sorry. Am I hired?"
He rubbed a worn hand across his lips. "Well, see, ma'am. A job like this is real tough like and a lil lady as yerself might find it a bit..."
Elissa's jaw hit the floor, but he continued before she could respond. He waved that worn hand in a gesture that told her not to get her knickers in a knot. "Now don get me wrong, miss. I ain't meanin no disrespect. Am jus' sayin is you're a mite on the lil side is all and I don't wanta be findin you in no bad way."
Her mousy, unkempt curls bounced when she firmly shook her head. "Look, when I called about this job, I was told it needed to be urgently filled. I drove straight here; I slept in my car so I could afford the gas. I've lived on dollar store noodles for two days straight and lemme tell you how fun that's not been. I need this job, sheriff."
The pity on the man's face made her teeth ache. "Hard times for a lotta folk in this day and age, but it ain't me who gets ta decide if ya stay."
She stared at him, gray eyes wide with amazement. "You're telling me that I've driven all this way, left my friends who have basically kept me alive for the last sixteen months, to talk to a man who isn't in charge of hiring?"
Anger coiled deep and hard in stomach, her hands clenched into fists as she kept staring at him, her gaze unwavering and full of steely determination. Her lips pursed outward as her nostrils flared with each slow exhalation of breath fueled by frustration. She rose in as calm a manner as possible. "Then if you'll excuse me, I'm going to talk to whoever is in charge. Thanks for wasting my time."
Elissa paused on realising she didn't know who was in charge. "By the way, who is in charge?"
Sheriff Ross looked at her with an expression she couldn't decipher. "I’d hate to hafta advertise this job again; that ain't somethin this lil town can afford. Now, I 'preciate yer tenaciousness, Miss. McCormack, but yer capabilities ain't in question."
A noise of sheer frustration left her mouth. "And I appreciate your candor, sheriff, but I need this job." Her landlord had probably found another tenant by now, so it wasn't just the money she needed, it was a place to stay.
"I understand yer predicament, ma'am, I ain't got a block o' ice in my chest. This situation is a mite delicate is all and I'd hate ta see a nice lil lady like you end up on the business end of a warnin for trespassin. Ya see, Miss. McCormack, this situation..."
"Was for a caretaker." She interrupted. "Here I am, wanting to take care of whatever it is that needs taking care of. I can prove to the head honcho that I can do it. I can. Hell, the exercise will probably help me get in shape and that'll help lower my medical costs." Oops. She hadn't meant to let that slip out. The moment potential employers heard the word “diabetes,” it was like a switch was flipped, and her chances went down the toilet before she could even introduce herself.
Sheriff Ross raised his eyebrows in question and Elissa sighed in dismay, mentally kissing any hope goodbye. "Diabetic."
Elissa mentally counted down. Pity in three... two... one... Yup. There it was. First came the raised brows of surprise, then came the little head tilt of the well intended ignorance and finally, there was the unspoken aww you poor thing. She internally sighed, prepared to upgrade her fight for the job to the point of chaining herself to the office door in protest.
He looked at her for quite some time and she was just about to comment on it when he slowly rose from his seat, with one hand aimed toward his back pocket, from which he pulled his wallet. This time, it was she who did the staring as he counted the bills before folding them up and handing them to her.
"Two hundred bucks right there." He said eventually. "Now I strongly suggest you get yerself a coupla nights down at the Sleep Easy Inn outside of town, then be on yer way. I'll pull a few strings so that check clears sooner than standard."
Charity, her overly proud mind spat, the only thing worse than damn pity. She'd spent the year living off of the charity and goodwill of her friends, knowing she wouldn't be able to pay them a single cent in return or even treat them to a beer once in awhile. Now here she was, with an opportunity to have a decent job, one that had been classified as urgent, and this man was about to send her away without so much as a bat of an eyelash.
Not a rutting chance.
Elissa's lip curled up and she looked down at the folded papers in the man's hand, disgust written all over her face. "You were going to tell me who is in charge." Statement, not a question.
"Miss. McCormack..."
"Please? All I'm asking for is a chance. One damn chance."
Sheriff Ross tightened his grip around his offering, then sighed and shook his head. "Yer too much like my wife, ma'am. Ain't ever been able to say no to her. You got the job."
The wave of relief that rushed through her almost knocked her on her ass, and she had to grab the cop to steady herself. She closed her eyes in an effort to hold back the tears. She had a job. An actual job that would pay enough to see her right as rain. More than right; she'd finally be able to make a dent in her debt, and with not having to pay rent on her new place, the extra money could be set aside. Plus, she'd be able to pay her friends back and...
Money might not bring happiness, but it damn sure brought security and that was good enough for her.
"I guess that's why she's your wife," Elissa said, her voice cracking as she fought to keep the prickly hot tears from falling.
Sheriff Ross didn't laugh, and her urge to throw herself at him in gratitude dissipated. "If y'all will follow me. I'll take ya right on up to Pierfront."
She hadn't been this excited since the weight of the world had crushed her spirit. Eagerly, Elissa McCormack followed the man out of the office, a spring in her step and luxury on her mind. "Pierfront? I thought the job was at Crystal Lake."
The sudden silence in the sheriff's department was like magic. One moment the general hustle and bustle of a small town cop shop and then it was as though someone had shut the power down on the vocal chords of every single person in there. She glanced around, wondering if she could sell her new super power to her friend, sure it would come in handy when the twins arrived.
"Get on back to work, now, ya hear?"
"But, sheriff..." The voice of one single deputy was heard and Elissa looked at him, wondering about the pallor of the young man's skin.
"Ain't nothin for ya ta be worryin on, Hollins... As it happens, ya can follow us in Miss McCormack's car."
She watched Hollins swallow thickly before he nodded.
"Hand over yer keys."
"But I can..." The sheriff's gaze was hard, unyielding. "Fine."
"Come along, Miss McCormack. It wouldn't do fer us to be out in the woods after dark. I suggest you keep that in mind, missy."
Elissa's eyes widened as she followed him to his car. "So the job is at Crystal Lake?"
"Yes, ma'am."
"And Pierfront, I'm guessing, is the name of the house?" Her house. She had a house with its own name. She was set for life here!
"Yes, ma'am."
Damn, but she wanted to punch the air, dance the Macarena, anything as long as she could get the crazy joy out before any neighbors saw it. "Are there any other residents near the lake?"
The sheriff sighed. "Ain't nobody lived around that ol lake fer a long time. Ain't the land o' dreams now."
"Since the little boy drowned?" Elissa had to be honest with herself; it unnerved her, moving to a place with such a horrendous history, but beggars couldn't be choosers.
Maybe that's why the sheriff and the whole station had gone silent when she mentioned it. Perhaps they still felt it, almost as though it was they who had been dealt such a tragedy. When she'd read about Crystal Lake online, she'd honestly felt her heart break as she thought about her nephew, nine-year-old little Craig, and how she would feel if something so awful happened to him. She might not be able to imagine how Jason Voorhees had felt, but she was human and she could more than understand the emotions that must have gone through him.
Being bullied was something she knew all too well, though not quite to the same extent. She knew what it was like to be mocked and made the butt of jokes. Hell, one year in school, a guy had put Sweet-n-Low in her coffee and almost killed her.
Huh. Maybe she understood Jason Voorhees more than she gave herself credit for.
Sadly, Eric Bellford came from a very well-to-do family and there hadn't been much by way of compensation for his little trick. It hadn't been about the money, but the Bellford lawyer had played the judge like a damn instrument. She'd suffered for the last two years of high school because of him and his trick, yet all he got was a three-week suspension, which he spent at his family ski lodge in Aspen, and a slap on the wrist. Of course, he never came near her after that, but that wasn't the point.
Asshole, Elissa thought bitterly, as memories of those two years appeared in her head. What she wouldn't give to stick a needle full of crack up his ass, or somewhere else that would really, really hurt. Like his dick. Which was probably smaller than his pinky.
"We're here, Miss McCormack."
Oh. Right. Her new house and...
"Ohhhh..."
Gray eyes went wide as she looked out of the car window and up at the cabin, if one could call it that. It was house of logs. Two stories high, with a loft, and floor to ceiling windows. It wasn't something out of a billionaire's wet dream, but it was so beautiful and perfectly situated, what with a small wooden pier adjacent to it. Her imagination was inundated with images of lazing on the patio in the summer, the smell of the lake carried by a warm breeze, her Kindle in one hand and an ice cold glass of sugar free lemonade in the other.
Heaven, she decided. This was heaven.
Wait, wait, her brain screamed at a decibel currently unheard of. You're being paid eight thousand dollars a month, you have a house, a car, and a medical package that has the works.
Elissa closed her eyes as she struggled to get control of herself. Her hands gripped the lowered car window and she inhaled deeply in preparation for the questions she wanted answering. Not that she knew what she wanted answering, of course, because she didn't know... Well, she didn't really know anything about Crystal Lake, except for that poor little boy, but this was too good to be true.
She had once read a book called The Gift Of Fear by a man named Gavin de Beck. The author worked with not just the FBI and CIA, but also criminals and victims and their families. In this book, he said to listen to and to trust your instincts, and if something seemed too good to be true, it usually was.
It took a lot of willpower, but she pushed her needs to one side and focused on the details.
A caretaker job, for eight grand a month, accommodation and transport included, full medical package, and if something bad happened to her, another advertisement would need to be made. One with a significant wage hike, a hike the town could ill afford.
Elissa sighed as she tore her gaze away from her house and looked at Sheriff Ross. "What's the catch?"
He went to speak, but she raised her hand for him to keep quiet.
"A lot of what you've said doesn't ring like the bells of St. Clemons. I know that there's something you're not telling me and it doesn't sound like you want to explain it."
Sheriff Ross got out of the car. Elissa noticed that the first thing he did was draw his gun.
"Let's get us inside, shall we? I ain't one fer leavin my wife n kids. You’ll understand soon enough."