Title: The Caretaker
Chapter No: Two part 1
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.
If I could have one wish granted at this current moment in time, it would be that LiveJournal stops fucking up. Edited it to add part 2 was too large, so I've had to cut it into two parts.
Anyhoo, have fun :D
Huggles, Jude xxx
Caretaker chapter 2
The inside, if possible, was better than the outside, and Elissa knew she closely resembled an excited six-year-old as she was led around by the sheriff. Each and every window on the left side of the house had a stunning view of the lake, which truly lived up to its name. She approached a large window on the landing, her eyes wide as she looked at the reflection of nature on the calm surface of the lake.
She really, really wished for the talent of photography, because wow - and she honestly meant wow with every bit of her being.
She traced the outline of the pier on the glass and pushed her face up close, her breath creating a fog which she had to rub off with her sleeve, lest she leave grubby fingerprints behind.
The grime and grubby would be washed off the second sheriff Ross left. And the unpacking of her two bags, of course. No sense in diving into a...
"Tub or shower?"
Her question startled the sheriff from his own surveying of the outside. "Both, ma'am. May I say that The Sleep Easy has one of them fancy jacuzzis. Yer might give it a..."
"I'll make a reservation once I'm settled in," Elissa smiled, not once turning away from the prospect her window offered. Her eyes, bless their little ocular selves, had been starved of good sights for so long that she prayed they didn't fall out from relief.
"If yer'll follow me..."
She watched as he glanced long and hard out of her window, though she very much doubted he was admiring the scenery.
It took a lot of willpower for Elissa to pull herself away from her sight-seeing, and she was ever so thankful she did, because the upstairs was absolutely wonderful. A spacious room that spanned at least half of the living room, the bedrooms nicely laid out, and made private by solid oak doors, which appeared a dark gold in the late afternoon sun that streamed through that window.
This can't be mine. This can't be mine. This can't be mine, was all she could think as she stood there, staring, and waiting for the other shoe to drop.
She heard a quote once, possibly by Horace. A heart well prepared for adversity in bad times hopes, and in good times fears a change in fortune.
Nothing else could sum up her life so well, and now here she was, with the world almost at her feet, and she was waiting for the closet full of skeletons to be revealed.
Maybe it isn't a closet full of skeletons. Could be a tiny box of souls instead. Elissa mentally smirked as she trailed after her silent escort, who still hadn't holstered his gun.
As a person with nothing to her name, people watching had become her favourite hobby. It cost nothing, vastly amusing, heartbreaking, and so very helpful. It allowed her to calculate the true thoughts and feelings of those around her, how they saw the world, other people in general, and most importantly, their opinions on her. Though she despised to admit it, with her position in life as vulnerable as it was, she needed people around her who she could believe in with all her heart.
"The master bedroom, ma'am..."
Elissa perked up, yet again glad the man had pulled her out of her former destitution. The bedroom was like the rest of the place. Wonderful.
Lots of space, with a large window that, she was happy to note, looked right over the lake. How wonderful it would be to sleep in here with that window open just enough to allow the scent of wood and water to drift in.
The room itself was mostly undecorated, but it was furnished, and from what she could tell, the furnishings were excellent quality, what with being solid oak.
"Are these made locally?" She asked, her finger running along the top of a dresser. "I mean, the oak isn't hard to come by."
Sheriff Ross nodded. "That it is, ma'am. Designed by one of our craftsmen, a Mr. Gregory Jones. Worked round these here parts for nigh on twenty years."
"Nice." Sort of. That would mean the older trees were chopped down, so what did that mean for the local wildlife? It wasn't something Elissa had really concerned herself with before, but it seemed different now. Like having the forest slowly taken away just so homes could have beautiful decor to be talked about over champagne and caviar.
"Now, now. Don't worry that pretty face o'yers. The conservation society sees to it there are plenty of seeds planted in place."
She nodded, though didn't think a couple of seeds could replace trees that had taken eons to grow. Instead of stating her opinion, which she was known to do, she said, "You should give lessons to other places. The world needs all the help it can get."
The sheriff's eyebrows did an odd sort of dance, then recognition appeared on his face. "Yer resume did state yer interest. Done much in that line o'work?"
Elissa really hoped her little exaggeration didn't show on her face. "Some," she replied. "I got arrested once for being handcuffed to a park railing."
The psychologists always said a good lie held an ounce of truth, and the truth was that she had been chained in a park, but it had nothing to do with conservation.
Thankfully he didn't ask any questions.
"Well now, that's mighty brave," he finally replied. "What were ya tryin ta protest?"
So much for no questions.
"Heritage," Elissa, again, didn't lie per se. It was, apparently, tradition at her college that the freshman who draw the short straw got embarrassed. However, when her friends came back with the keys to the cuffs, she had already been taken into custody. "Years and years of heritage.”
It still brought a smile to her face, despite the extreme talking too she got from her parents.
Sheriff Ross gave a grunt, and just like that, the topic was dropped.
“Anyhow,” came his gruff voice. “This right here...”
He walked over to a corner and flicked the light switch, and to her amazement, a panel of the wall slid open to reveal a second wall behind it, this one made of solid steel.
Elissa stared at it, and her nerves seemed to sting all at once, and the voice inside, that little whisper of female intuition, told her to run as far and as fast as she could.
“Is a panic room.” She muttered, her feet moving of their own accord. “Why do I have a panic room?”
Her hands reached out to touch the door, the cool chill of oak met ice cold steel, and she bit her lip, mind now in overdrive. Nothing about this made any sense at all. The five grand just for coming to Crystal Lake being the first, then the incredible health insurance package, and finally... Well, to sum it up, this. It was like a beautiful blonde with dirty underwear, she thought, and looked at sheriff Ross.
“There’s food an’ water in here that oughta last ya fer a week. There’s also a radio,” he kept explaining. “Cept the radio only works if this steel door here is open, ya understand?”
She nodded.
“Now, at the first sign o’trouble, ya bring yer self right up, and get on that blower. The boys’ll not be long, ya hear? That’s if ya can get ta here, o’course.”
Again, she nodded, but this time she spoke. “Understood.”
He shook his head, the movement caused shadows to pass over the dull shine of gray on the door. “Well, now I got to git on back to the station. Ya see, we got some young ‘uns stopping by for their class, and I got to give me a speech about being a damn pitiful pushover.”
“This is it.” Elissa said flatly. “No answers or explanations.”
Sheriff Ross didn’t answer as he was too busy walking out of her bedroom.
She followed at a faster pace until she caught up to him, her hand on his arm forceful enough to make him face her. “This job isn’t for a caretaker, is it?”
He closed his eyes and sighed. “It is, ma’am, just not fer the lake.”
“Then you better tell me and tell me now exactly why I got five grand just for coming down here.” The sudden burst of anger left her breathless, and the tight feeling in her chest simply infuriated her more. “Maybe you think a woman working is bad...”
He cut her off right then and there, his voice and tone sharper than any needle she had used in her entire life. “I ain’t got no problem with women in the workforce, Miss McCormack. What I do take issue with are young ‘uns like you bitin’ off more’n ya can chew.”
Elissa felt her face burn, his genuine response and chastising went direct to her heart. “I’m sorry, sheriff, I’m just used to...”
“Where no offense is meant, no offense is taken. Now, hear me, ma’am, and hear me well. You take care and the second you feel anything is out of sorts, an I do mean anything, you get your tushy right on in that panic room...”
“No.”
This time, like most of the conversations between them, was cut short by a sharp retort.
Elissa crossed her arms over her chest and raised her chin defiantly. “No, I won’t. I won’t do anything until you stop treating me like I’m not here for anything except a look-out for you and your thin blue line.”
As she said that, she realised that it was, in fact, true. He said just before she wasn’t here to take care of the lake, which meant she was here to take care of something very different. Something the sheriff wouldn’t, or couldn’t, explain, since he all but came out and stated her questions were to remain unanswered. Well, she wasn’t stupid, and she would get her job description before the sheriff high tailed it away from her house.
“If you don’t tell me what’s going on, I will purposely go out there, and whatever happened to the last caretaker,” she made air quotes with her fingers. “Will happen to me, so you’ll have to advertise this job again, and throw in that unaffordable hike.”
Sheriff Ross simply crooked his index finger, his head gestured to the window in the hall. “Come see fer yerself, Miss.”