Title: A Camping We Will Go
Author: Jinni (firstname.lastname@example.org)
Disclaimer: All things BtVS belong to Joss Whedon, et al. All things Friday the 13th (1-8) belong to Paramount Pictures, et al.
Distribution: The normal places.
Warning: Character death.
Author's Notes: Part of the Halloween survivor game on the TtH Forums.
A twig snapped and Andrew just about jumped out of his skin.
"Don't be so…twitchy," Dawn snorted, flicking a piece of hair back behind her shoulder. "It's just a camp, Andrew."
"A camp where a whole lot of people were brutally hacked and slashed to death by an insane psycho," he muttered, though obviously not quietly enough judging by the glare that she threw his way. Buffy was going to kill him for this. Letting Dawn go out here, to this camp in the middle of nowhere, without anyone of any real protector value with her.
Oh, yes, he was a dead Andrew. Dead man walking, that was him.
And why did she want to visit this camp? To stay out here for the night?
Because it was Halloween weekend and she wanted to stay somewhere 'creepy'. As if living in Cleveland, helping battle the forces of darkness with her sister, wasn't creepy enough! She'd asked the others to take her out here, he was almost sure of it. Just as he was dead positive that their answer had been 'no'.
He whimpered, glancing around the dark forest. In no way had he thought that she would actually want to go through with staying the night here. Away from all material possessions save a sleeping bag and her trusty mini-axe that Faith had given her for her birthday. He had something sharp and shiny of his own, not that he planned for it to do much good against an insane psycho killer.
This was like something from a horror movie. First the dimwitted duo sets out to explore a place where lots of people died. Then they start hearing strange noises –
"Did you hear that?"
"What?" Andrew squeaked, looking around nervously. His hand slid into the folds of his sleeping bag, wrapping fearfully around the handle of his dagger. "Hear what?"
"Nothing," she shook her head. "Must be just the creepiness getting to me." She shivered, rubbing at her arms. "Can you believe this is where it happened?"
They were set up in the middle of where the cabins were, neither of them having quite large enough cajones to actually want to stay inside the rickety old buildings themselves. Not that the middle of the cabin area was any better. At least, not that he thought so. Dawn, on the other hand, appeared ready, willing, and able, to send both of them to their horrific deaths.
Maybe calling Buffy was a good idea, after all. Dawn hadn't noticed when he'd taken her cell phone and made the call, thank God. Not that saving her little sister's butt was going to win him any brownie points with the Slayer. No, Buffy was going to rip him a new one. Or...two. Or three. He'd be lucky to survive the night, in fact.
T-minus twenty minutes, he told himself, and then they'd be headed back toward the latest Slayer hangout.
Safe and sound.
Safe and --
"There. I heard it again. C'mon - let's go take a look."
He looked on in shock as Dawn grabbed her flashlight and stood up, sweeping it into the dense forest that extended out from the edge of the cabin clearing. This was not good.
"You know - that's what they say in horror movies - right before someone dies."
Dawn rolled her eyes, pretty much like he had expected her to. "But this isn't a horror movie, Andrew. Stop being such a baby."
He thought about pointing out that it was exactly the type of thing that happened in their lives, too - not just the movies, but didn't. She wasn't going to listen to him. Hadn't all night, for that matter - thus the reason he had called for her sister.
Now if only her sister would get here before they both got dead.
"Are you coming or not?"
The 'or not' part sounded pretty good to him, but the look on Dawn's face said that wasn't really an option. "Sure?"
"Good choice. Come on, wussy boy."
So he followed, the dread growing in his stomach. Following to his certain doom, he was sure of it.
Especially when they both heard the branch snap somewhere to the left of where they were walking.
Dawn stumbled to a stop and he just barely kept from bumping into her --
"Ow. Watch it," she hissed.
Or...he did bump into her, he guessed.
"Sh!" she hissed, putting a hand over his mouth. "There - hear that?"
He nodded, mumbling around her hand, "Yes. Definitely heard that reason for us to get out of here ASAP."
"You're Slayer-trained. I'm Slayer-trained. We'll be fine. If there is some big bad up here, isn't it our duty --"
"But neither of us are Slay-ers," he insisted. "Therefore - not our duty. Our duty is to tell your sister or Faith or --"
"No, not me."
"Run," Dawn whispered, eyes going wide as she looked over his shoulder. He knew he shouldn't look. Knew that it was just begging for a cliched moment of eye-popping fright when he saw the bad guy standing right there, behind him.
But he did it anyway.
"Gaaah!" he shrieked. Guy in hockey mask. Guy in hockey mask with bloody, dripping --
"RUN!" Dawn screamed, tugging on his sleeve.
He didn't need to be told a third time. Stumbling into a run, Andrew followed Dawn through the forest, weaving and dodging as best that they could with only the moonlight and Dawn's bouncing strobe of flashlight to guide them. This was it. They were doomed. That was the killer. The one that had done all that stuff. Right? How many psycho killer types could be out here, anyway?
"Which way to camp?"
"Dunno," Dawn panted. "Lost track in the running for my life part of everything."
"Buffy? Xander?" Dawn huffed between breaths, veering off toward the voices. "How...why... Andrew!"
"Over here!" he screamed, ignoring the indignant glare that the girl at his side was giving him. They were home safe now. He could see their lights, moving through the trees. Coming closer and closer.
He breathed a mental sigh of relief.
And tripped head-first over a root sticking up out of the ground. The air left his lungs in a loud whoosh as he collided with the damp, dirty forest floor, Dawn's sneakers in his line of sight, getting further away before stopping, coming to a halt.
"Get up!" she screamed. "Oh, God. Get up!"
He pushed to his hands, feeling the urgency of her scream, knowing with every movement he made that the cretin in the mask got closer.
"Buffy!" Dawn's scream rang through the air. "HURRY!"
Footsteps pounding and time was going way too slow as he stumbled trying to get to his feet, foot slipping on the damp leaves under him. He swallowed hard, heart pounding somewhere in the region of his throat.
"Gugg," Andrew managed, hand coming up to his back, to the wetness that was there. He blinked, when his fingertips touched metal and turned, slowly, to see the mask-covered face of his killer.
Camp Crystal Lake certainly wasn't camper friendly.