There's a Reason Horror Movies are Rated R

The Type of Horror Movies That Has Too Much Crazy and Not Enough Normal

"Wow, do you guys fight like that all the time?" I asked after if gotten my laughter under control.

He thought for a second. "Yeah, pretty much." He smiled a little. "If you need anything, just come down stairs. But I think I'm about to head to my room, so if you do go down there, be careful."

I grinned. "Will do. Goodnight, Pinhead. And thank you, so much. For everything." I said. He smiled and shut my door.

I looked down at my duffel bag next to me on the floor. I knew I needed a shower, I hadn't had one in a week and I smelled horrible, and just felt gross in general. I glanced around the room, and laid eyes on two doors. One was obviously the closet door since it was so small, and the other must've been a bathroom door. I pulled myself off the bed and picked up my duffle bag. I was about to step foot into the bathroom when the closet door swung open and I yelped.

A tall man wearing an old, torn up brown jacket and a hockey mask came through the door and I sighed with relief. It was Jason Vorheese, my favorite horror movie killer. But wait... he doesn't know who I am.

Jason turned to me, machete in hand. I took a step back and held up my hands.

"Look, dude, I came here earlier and-" I felt a sharp pain in my stomach and my back hit the wall. Great. No one ever listens to me. I looked down at the machete pierced through me and sighed. "You sir," I looked up at him, who was only inches from my face. "Owe me a new shirt."

I heard my door burst open. I turned my head as far as I could, only to get a glimpse of a pin on Pinhead's head.

"Really, Jason? You had to kill her?!" He complained. "She was kinda cute too."

I was quiet for a minute, wondering why he was talking to someone who couldn't respond.

"I don't care! If there's someone in our house, just ask before killing them, okay?" Pinhead stared at Jason, and Jason stared back. "What do you mean? She's clearly... oh." He looked at me, then back at Jason.

"Don't use that excuse, we both know stabbing her is not how it's done. If you wanted to, you could've just asked her. Man, all of you guys are so rude..." He said walking over to me and pulling the machete out of my stomach. "Why aren't you screaming? Or dead?"

"I'm uh... immortal. I didn't plan on telling you guys but uh yeah. Here I am. Telling you..." I didn't really know what to say. I gave myself a metal slap in the face and ran a hand over my stomach and it healed automatically, with nothing remaining but the pain.

"Woah." The strange voice was back. Ghostface probably, unless there were more killers here I didn't know about.

"Yeah, I know. But for the love of French toast could you please listen to what I have to say before doing something? That's always irritated me." I explained walking past them to my duffle bag and digging through it for clothes.

"I know how you feel. Anyway, could you come downstairs before you go to sle-"

"Bed." Freddy quickly interrupted him. He glared at Pinhead who nodded with an apologetic look. I brushed it off as something like an inside joke.

"Yeah." I said and picked up my clothes. "But I need a shower so..."

They all stared at me, then quickly left the room. Everyone besides Jason. He went over to the bed stand next to me and pulled a pice of paper and a pen out of the door. He wrote down quickly,

Sorry about that. Last time I randomly found a person in our house my friend got sent back to an asylum.

"It's fine. But, can they, hear you?" I asked. He nodded and flipped over the paper.

When you come down stairs later, by tomorrow, you'll be able to hear me, too. But I'll let you take a shower now...

I nodded and he grabbed the paper and shoved it into his pocket. He nodded back at me and walked out, shutting the door behind him.

Oh my potatoes has this week been crazy...

Clothes still and hand, I walked into the bathroom and shut the door. One shower, then downstairs, then bed. Simple.

An Hour Later

"Okay, and how is this going to effect me?" I starred at the empty beer bottle on the table, my back against one of the kitchen counters on the other side of the kitchen. When I came downstairs, Ghostface actually saw my face fully and had been all over me ever since, and then wanting to hit me in the head with a beer bottle was just making this night even weirder.

"It'll let you hear Jason and Michael. So they won't have to right down everything. This isn't going to hurt, and you won't have to put yourself to sleep." Pinhead explained and leaned against the counter next to the one the bottle was on. I sighed and shut my eyes.

"I guess." I muttered. I figured they would wait and count or something, but next thing I knew I felt something hit one side of my head, then the other side hit the floor.

So much for not being rude Mr. Pin-cushion.