***

The full moon was in the night sky. 

Barry Jones, 18, was with the other campers. He was glad that his girlfriend, Claudette Anderson, 17, his girlfriend, would make out in the old barn. Camp Crystal Lake was around since 1935. Decades had passed since the tragedy of Jason Voorhees's drowning the following year, Friday the 13th; decades in which talk of a death curse had shattered the idea that camping was full of bad luck in the conservative country. Barry had blonde colored hair; blue eyes, and wore a yellow CAMP CRYSTAL LAKE T-shirt; Claudette wore the same clothes. She was also a girl who didn't care about bad karma, and death curses. 

'Hang your head Tom Dooley! Hang your head'. Claudette gave her favorite guitar to John Meeks, a 16 year old African-American camper. She walked towards the barn. Barry opened the barn door. 'Does Mary Anne kiss better than I do?', Claudette asked her boyfriend. 

'How do I know', Barry answered.

'Oh, you', Claudette smirked. 

They ran upstairs to the dusty barn. 

And they kissed with passion. 

***

The killer walked towards the barn. 

She was consumed by anger. 

In her mind, the darkness over Camp Crystal Lake wasn't on her mind; her eyes flickered towards the stairs; her blue colored eyes looked at the romantic teenage camp counsellors. In her small, right hand was a hunting knife; her rage was palpable. 

'Someone's here, Barry', Claudette said.

He stopped what he was doing. 

'Hey, we weren't doing anything...really', Barry stammered. 

The knife came towards him. 

Claudette screamed with horror, then Barry fell into the hay bales, dead.

She ran.

***

Claudette grabbed two bales of hay with her right hand. 

'No, please, no!'.

The knife was raised. 

And she died as well.

The horror of Friday the 13th's death curse had started.