It was only then that Carly realized what she was feeling. One of her hands, as it pressed so tightly against her side, was getting pricked by the point of the knife.

The killer set the head down carefully on a rock. At that moment, Carly charged.

Holding the knife with both hands, she plunged it into the killer's back, all the way up to the hilt. The killer grunted, dropped on all fours from the force of the blow. Carly pulled the long blade out, raised it, and plunged it down again.

The man's green camouflage clothes were already stained red with blood. Fresh blood now began to ooze out from the dark encrusted wounds. She kept stabbing and stabbing while the killer and the severed head screamed.

Suddenly, the tall man rolled over, taking Carly with him. He was on top of her now. She jabbed up at him with the knife, slicing into his arms. His blood spurt in her face.

Then he grabbed a large rock and lifted it over her head.

He brought it smashing down.

She wrenched her head to the side just in time. She felt the rock cut her ear as it came down.

He lifted the rock again. But now she hacked at his arm with all her might, holding the knife with both hands. This time the knife cut straight through to the bone.

The man screamed in agony and dropped the rock. She twisted her head, but this time her luck had run out. The rock caught her left temple with a thud that echoed through her skull.

The blow stunned her for a second. She dropped the knife. And now the killer closed four greasy fingers around Carly's slim neck. He pressed down hard, choking her.

Carly gagged. Desperate for air, she squirmed violently, trying to break his grip. Her hands and legs flailed helplessly. In the background, she could hear the severed head shrieking, crying for her blood. She could no longer see, only feel, as her hands found the mask on the killer's face. Her fingers ripped at the mask pulling it up.

And now the head was shrieking even more violently. “No! No! The mask! The power!

She only vaguely heard the words and then---

The mask came off in her hands and---

Suddenly---she could breath again.

She was staring up into the killer's face. His dark beard covered most of his features, a mask of its own. But she could see his dark hateful eyes. Only now those eyes looked surprised---and afraid.

The four fingers were still around her throat, but they had loosened.

The killer began to cough. He spat up whole mouthfuls of blood. When Carly pushed him, he fell backward like a rag doll.

She wriggled out from underneath his dead weight. He stared up at her glassy-eyed. Then he lay his head slowly down on the ground.
She didn't need to check. She knew he was gone at last.

   Friday the 13th: Mother's Day, chapter 21