Chapter Five

Steve Christy walked to the Diner.

After he ordered cherry pie, and warm coffee, he sighed. The idea of darkness over the town of Crystal Lake hadn't dawned on him; the talk of religious curses, and other superstitious things that was part of the Catholic Church, didn't bother him; he was seeing Sandy Moore, the sixty year old, red haired, glasses wearing, waitress. 'Bad night, huh, Sandy', he said. 'Yeah, it's a hell of a storm', she said. She poured more coffee into the cold mug.

'How much do I owe you?', Steve asked.

'Two and a quarter', Sandy answered.

He gave her three dollar bills.

'Keep the change, Sandy'.

She smiled, and he grabbed his yellow rain slicker.

Then he headed to outside, and was shocked to see the engine of the van had died. He waved at the Sheriff's car. 'Bad night, Steve', Sheriff Earl Tierney, sixty, said. 'Yeah, I'll get a tow in the morning', Steve said. 'Crazy Ralph was here today'. Steve sighed; he didn't need religious talk to interfere at the camp. 'Great! Just what I need to hear', he said. 'Today is Friday the 13th. Bad things happen. More deaths; more murders; more bad karma', the Sheriff said. He heard the radio mike on. 'Sheriff, there's a three car accident on Miner Road', Rose said. 'Roger that, Rose. ETA, fifteen minutes...Got to leave you by the road'. Steve walked up the road. As he did so, there was a bright light in his eyes.

'Hello. Oh, Hi, Pamela, what brings you here?', Steve asked.

The killer stabbed him in the chest with the knife.

Steve Christy died knowing that the death curse was real.

Page 7.