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.
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.