Dating A Slasher: Jason Voorhees

A promotional picture from the 2009 movie Friday the 13th, edited with N.D. Sass

Written by Niomi Dylan Sass

The best night to take any ghoul out for this fellow will always be any Friday the 13th. This is the kind of person who’ll take you on an all-day date. I would know because I may or may not have had a passing fancy with this stoic, silent, serial killer. To my blood-curdling surprise, it was everything I imagined, and so much more. 

We started our wonderful date by taking a beautiful walk around Camp Crystal Lake, which is his all-time favorite lake. Dusk was upon us, and golden hour was hitting in the most petrifyingly perfect way. I stood there for a second, looking deeply into his hockey mask -I always had a thing for guys who played sports- and felt the most sinister spark between us. I really enjoyed my time with him because he was such a good listener. Never really spoke a word, some grunts and groans here or there, but always attentively listened. When I suggested we take a dip in the water, this was the only time I could see that he got physically upset. He started breathing really heavily, which made me realize he probably just didn’t know how to swim. 

I’m a queen at pivoting; I suggested we keep walking towards the nearby cemetery for a change of scenery. An ominous landscape of crypts, graves, and tombstones on the night of Friday the 13th, I couldn’t think of anything more romantic. Once we arrived, he started leading the way straight to a grave with a tombstone engraved with the name Pamela Voorhees. I heard one huge exhale and saw a singular tear fall down the side of his hockey mask. At that moment, I knew this had to be his mom’s grave; having the same last name couldn’t be a coincidence. I wiped the tear from his mask and rested my head on his chest, assuring him everything would be okay. I motioned to the peaceful sleeping bodies underneath the ground next to her and promised Jason that his mother was in a better place. 

He nodded his head and led me to a shed behind the graveyard. Once he opened the door, there were only two things inside of it: a machete ready to be used, and a shrine to his mother. I thought if he loved his mother that much, then he had to be a good guy. Usually, I don’t go after momma’s boys because God forbid the day he had to choose between his mom and me, then surely the mom would get picked every time. But I didn’t have to worry about that with Jason because Pamela was already out of the picture, thankfully. I can definitely compete with a shrine; I’ve done it once before, and I’ll do it again. I told him that he was a good son to his mother, a good boy, even. He definitely lit up like a Christmas tree when he heard that. Menacingly, he grabbed the machete with one of his hands and carried me with his other hand. I never felt so dainty in my life, and we were off, down another trail to the camp near the lake. 

As soon as we got there, he spotted a camp counselor by himself and set me down by a tree. Jason motioned for me to stay put, and put I stayed, watching this 6’3 behemoth of a monstrous man. He appeared behind the camp counselor and tapped his shoulder. The dude turned around and screamed. When Jason picked him up by the neck with his free arm, I was a little jealous of this part, not going to lie. Like, I thought that was our thing. Jason threw him straight up in the air and placed both his hands on the machete. With one force-filled swing upward towards the camp counselor, Jason's machete split him in half. It was like watching someone play Fruit Ninja for the first time. Blood sprayed everywhere, glistening in the moonlight, while the two halves of the camp counselor's body fell on each side of Jason. As I was running over to JV, he bent down, picked up the counselor's heart off the floor, and handed it to me. This was honestly one of the most romantic gestures someone has ever done for me, and dates I’ve been on, but I couldn’t get past the thought of him choking someone else.

I accepted the heart, gave him a huge kiss through the mask, of course, and told him that it couldn’t work between us. However, we’d always have that special night together at Camp Crystal Lake. He kissed me back, picked up his machete, and started walking towards the lake. As he reached the harrowing shoreline, he looked back, stood there for a minute, took off his mask, looked back at me, and mouthed the words “I love you.” Jason dropped his mask and his machete. He slowly took one step, then another, and another, until he was completely submerged in water. I watched bubbles rise to the top of the surface until the water became still again. I thought to myself how dramatic and performative that exit was. I picked up his mask -but not the machete because I wasn’t trying to get my fingerprints on the murder weapon- and looked into the lake and whispered to myself, “Well, I dodged a bullet.”