True to my word, I headed out the next day. To watch. Certainly some vile things were happening; not every person at church camp was there to study the Bible. Some of them had to be pursuing some extracurricular activities. No group of teenagers ass all good. All I needed was one frisky couple and I’d be set.
Listen. I’ve been doing this a long time and discovered one ironclad rule of the universe: if you put a group of kids in their late-teens/early-twenties in a secluded location, there will be sex. Always.
Sure enough, I spotted a couple heading off to a cabin. They appeared to be looking around to see if anyone was watching them. Maybe that was my imagination – that I wanted them to be doing something they knew they shouldn’t be – but I don’t think that was the case. Under the cover of the forest, I followed. They opened the door, giggled, and went inside.
I like to wait until their moment has passed, then strike when one of them has gotten up. I’ll kill the one still in bed, wait for the other one to return, then kill them while they’re in shock. It’s a well-used method and it has served me well.
The cabin was raised up a bit, so I was able to lurk below the window without them detecting me. It wasn’t long before I heard the familiar sounds: muffled voices and a couple proclamations of “Oh God.”
They stayed in bed for a while afterwards. I could hear their voices talking, but I couldn’t make out the words. Eventually I heard the familiar sound of old bed springs squeaking as one of them exited the bed. I expertly navigated the back steps – careful to miss the spots that would make noise – and pushed open the back door (I had applied WD-40 to all the hinges before their arrival: never let it be said that I lack preparation).
The boy was still in bed. He was sitting up with his back to me. I thought it was odd that he was fully dressed, but it didn’t change what I needed to do. I raised my axe and put it through his head with one fell swoop. It was then I looked down and noticed what was sitting on his lap: a Bible. They weren’t having sex: they were having a secret Bible study. The proclamations of “Oh God,” were shouted out in prayer.
I couldn’t believe it. How could this be?
As I stood there in shock, the girl came out of the bathroom. Like the boy, she was fully clothed. She looked at me and opened her mouth to scream. With one step I crossed the room and put my axe through her mouth.
I stood there, looking at the scene. It was clear what they were doing in here, but I couldn’t let this get out. I’d never live it down. So I did what any killer would do in my situation: I undressed both of them, took a picture and sent it along to my text thread of other killers. “Guess they weren’t so pious after all,” I wrote. I would have felt bad about it, but my soul left me when I died, so it didn’t bother me.
Then came the clean up. I wasn’t ready to alert the rest of the campers to my presence, so I put the two “love birds” in bed and covered them with a blanket. With no mop in the cabin, I grabbed a brush, got on my knees and started scrubbing up the blood. I wondered if Jason Voorhees had ever pulled a stunt like this, and I came to the conclusion that he probably had at some point in his career.
With my first kill out of the way, it was now time to hit the others. Church camp be damned, I would take all of them out.
You can read Part 1 here.