The summer air in Crystal Lake smells of flames. On the edge of town a small bon-fire has spread to consume five acres of forest. In Mckingie’s Pub the regulars talk of ill omens; with the camp reopening for yet another summer of blood. There’s laughter at the repetitive jokes, but if one listens closely, they can hear the fear it covers.
It’s July 12, 1985. A friday. No need to worry. The sun is shining through a cloudless sky, reflecting off the water of the Crystal Lake. Everything is in order for a radical summer to begin. Teen love, childhood memories; one too many drunken nights for underage kids to hide. Just another crisp summer at camp.
Micheal looked over the paperwork sitting on the desk. Everything seemed to be in order, or at least, as in order as he could hope for. The legal side of business was never his favorite. What he cared for was the kids. The joy, but more importantly, the freedom a summer away from home could give. He remembered his first time camp, how life changing it had been, and he wanted to share that.
He put the work folder away in his desk drawer and, glancing at his watch, saw it was time to meet the new counselors. First timers, all of them. Guaranteed to get up to some trouble, he thought with a smile as he jogged the length of road from the administration building to the parking lot.