He is coming in the night, machete in tow, mask on tight. He hates you, you're gonna die. Don't bother running, don't even try. This place has a death curse.
-Murder on a Friday night-
Camp Blood is no place for morons. Axe to head, spear to chest, intestines spill. By now you should remember his name.
-Chorus-
But you thought he drowned? You just laid his mother six feet underground. Thirteen stands for revenge.
All hail the skull splitter! Remember his name: it's Voorhees.