Pamela's reach

Someone was watching the teenagers as they blundered their way deeper into the woods. For over twenty years the watcher had lain dormant, relying on Jason to do all the hard work. In truth, taking out the trash should have been the watcher's responsibility. But soon the two of them would be reunited.

None of those other girls—the ones from before, who'd gone out on the lake—had been suitable. They had dismissed her voice as a figment of their imagination, or half-remembered it as part of a nightmare of someone jumping out of the water at them—or had been driven insane. But Gloria was different. Gloria was receptive, impressionable, and so very, very rare. The watcher had been able to reach out to the girl over thousands of miles; calling to her, bringing her to this place for this very special occasion. The watcher was speaking to the girl even now, making sure that she kept along the right track. The watcher had waited a long time for this moment.

"This way."

Glo stopped and turned to look straight at where the watcher was observing her. But the girl's flashlight revealed nothing, save for a few gently waving branches.

There was no wind.

Soon the watcher's years of solitude would be over.

   Friday the 13th: Carnival of Maniacs, chapter 2