Interview with “Heart of a Jasonette” Author Diana Link – CBP033


On this edition of Community Spotlight, we are joined by Friday the 13th fan fiction author Diana Link. She's written several stories now, including Bloodstorm: Life vs Death, One Heart, One Nemesis, Vengeance for the Innocent, and The Heart of a Jasonette.

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Return to Camp Blood by Diana Link

The dark history of Crystal Lake fell upon the camp like a thick cloak. Nobody could escape its death curse. And if people dared to trespass on the land, then one got what was coming to them. Which was the mighty blade of notorious murderer, Jason Voorhees.

Despite this dreadful fact, there were those that wanted to tempt their fate. They would purposely enter the campgrounds as a way of boosting their reputation back home; to prove that they could survive on the very land stalked by the monster Jason. Unfortunately, the trip never went as planned. None of them were ever heard from again.

The very latest was a group of young men who were known for their podcast Return to Camp Blood. It was an Internet sensation where they chatted about Jason Voorhees and the many murders he had committed over the years. Once in a while, luck would spread its wings and give them the opportunity to converse with people directly linked to the various massacres.

One such example was with Pam Roberts, the survivor of the Jason copycat killings. Though it was not Jason himself, the spirit of the legend had been alive and well in killer Roy Burns. The podcast team hoped one day to invite other final girls to the show, including Ginny Field and Tina Shepard.

What they were about to do was take their program to the next level. They wanted the next episode to take place in the very setting that they had only just discussed about. All of them had been horror fans at quite the young ages. Why they had focused in on the happenings of Crystal Lake was a hunger only they could understand.

Chris was the main host since he was the one that founded the podcast. He was in the driver’s seat of the van with Oz sitting on the passenger side. The other comrades, E and Eric, sat behind them. The van was fast approaching the camp, and their increasing excitement hung in the air. E snapped a photo of the historical Camp Crystal Lake sign. A few pictures as evidence of the location wouldn’t hurt. They intended to post the images on their podcast web site.

Eric, for the last time, was making sure their equipment was working properly. The recorder needed to have the clearest audio possible for their audience to feel they were right there on this Crystal Lake adventure.

Some brief stretch of time passed, and then Chris parked the van in an adjacent clearing to the camp. A powerful sensation struck them as they entered the deciduous air.

“This is amazing,” Oz breathed. “We're here! I have a massive nerd boner right now!”

The rest of the day was time spent in paradise for them. Each one got his fair share of speaking for the show, while another one held the recorder.

As dusk began to descend upon the forest, the podcast team set up camp with a blazing fire in the center. Next to them was a cooler of beer. It was hypocritical to say the least that the group most informed about the Crystal Lake murders were still drinking; an activity that most believed was a death sentence.

Eric mentioned this fact.

“Hey, guys. Is it really safe to be drinking when we know that Jason kills drunks?”

Chris paused with his beer to his lips.

“True, but Jason will kill anyone, drunk or sober. Kids drinking before they die happens because that is what they like to do coming out here to party. It has nothing to do with any preferences of Jason.”

“That’s life, yo,” E said laughing.

Oz and Eric chimed in their agreement. That was all that could be said on that topic.

E was silent for a bit, then spoke up again.

“Since we’re done recording for today, I think I’ll go take a look at the van. It was making a strange noise. Better check it out so we don’t get stranded out here.”

“Hey, that’s fine with me,” Oz replied in a playful tone.

E shook his head.

“You say that now. I’ll see you guys in a bit.”

He stood up and departed from the group, making his way down a winding dirt path to the road where the van was parked. He opened the hood and set to work examining the underneath.

The form of Jason Voorhees stalked him from behind, moving as quietly as a phantom. Closer and closer, his speed picking up. By the time E was aware of another presence, Jason was already on him. The giant took hold of the car hood and slammed it down on E’s wrist. His gasp of agony filled the night. E struggled and was pushed backward, his arm now ending in a bloody stump.

Jason Voorhees towered over him. The moon cast light on that ominous hockey mask.

“Jason…Wait…” What more could E really say? “Guys!”

Too late. Jason raised a tire iron he had taken from the trunk. He struck E again and again, each time more forceful than the last. His victim’s face turned into a bloody pulp, resembling some twisted handiwork by the vilest of serial killers. Once E had passed, Jason dropped the tool and wasted no time in heading off to find the others. They all had to be punished.

Eric dropped his beer can and jerked his head in the direction E had gone.

“Did you guys hear that?”

“Hear what?”

Chris was too buzzed to understand how serious the situation was. Eric called out into the darkness for E.

“Will you cut that out? “Oz told him with an annoyed inflection. “Jason might hear you.”

An argument was brewing.

“I thought you said Jason hasn’t been seen around here for years.”

“Just because he hasn’t been seen doesn’t mean he is not there.”

Eric sighed in exasperation.

“Great, maybe we should just pack our things and go back. We already have all the audio we need.”

Amid the complaints of Chris and Oz, movement rustled the nearby trees. Eric jumped to his feet.

Jason burst forth into the clearing, causing the branches to explode. The front of his ragged clothes was stained with the blood of E.

The three friends gasped simultaneously. Eric sprang into action. React now or you will lose your chance. He took hold of a hefty log and set it aflame from the camp fire. He placed the end on Jason and watched the flames lap at his massive form. The killer showed no indication of pain. Eric should have known it would be to no avail, but at least he was trying.

Oz’s drunkenness paralyzed his body. He had yet to move from his position on the ground. Chris was agape with awe.

“Amazing,” he whispered.

He grabbed his phone and started to clamor on, fumbling for the camera. A picture of Jason himself would send their show’s ratings sky high. Eric stared at him.

“Are you serious?!” He yelled in frustration.

Jason used Eric’s moment of distraction to his advantage. He placed both hands on Eric and set the young man ablaze. Eric screamed and stumbled about as a human inferno. Unlike Jason, this human felt pain that seared through his nerves as his flesh began to melt.

Chris’s eyes widened.

“Holy mother of God….”

He was about to help his friend, though Jason blocked his way. The monster turned to Chris, shooting at him a callous expression. Jason was deaf to Eric’s death throes.

Chris finally took off running, leaving Oz at Jason’s mercy or lack thereof. Voorhees picked up one of the many empty beer bottles. Oz slowly raised his head to take in the mighty sight of the legend. Jason gripped one side of Oz’s face with one large hand and lowered the bottle with the other.

He stuffed the glass container into Oz’s throat, shoving it deeper and deeper until the shards sliced the windpipe. Oz gasped for air, while choking out crimson at the same time. With one final push, his throat collapsed. He had suffocated on his own blood. Jason knocked Oz down, the bulge of the bottle remaining in his neck. Oz’s blank eyes gazed into the campfire.

Only one left. Jason marched off in the direction Chris had taken. He caught up to him fairly quickly. Before him was the glassy water of the lake. Chris whipped around, still holding the recorder. He really had no idea what he would do after this. As an avid fan, he was mesmerized by the masked madman striding towards him. Sanity eluded Chris at this point in time.

Jason was on him in seconds. The device went flying from Chris and landed with its speakers near the two, capturing the horrid symphony of Chris’s soon to be demise. His blood spattered upon it as he collapsed to the ground. He clawed frantically at the hard terrain. His fingers became raw, and blood streamed from his broken nails. Jason dragged him away to finish him in the woods’ obscurity. Screams followed, then stopped.

A heavy silence passed through the trees. All were dead. The branches trembled from yet another massacre. A splash in the lake broke the quiet. The instrument that had recorded everything for that legendary podcast sank to the bottom. Nobody would get to hear their voices again. They were lost like the souls behind them.

R.I.P. Chris, Oz, Eric, and E