as the countless gallons of harbor and lake water spread out before her, eery in the bog. a small rowboat grazes across it occupied by two indistinguishable people.
the rowboat she saw earlier is still there, even closer now.
she's can't even hear sean, her vision being splashed by the chlorinated water. she sinks under the surface, turning around. and coming face to face with young jason. the eight year-old corpse grabs her ankle and
blurry, disoriented, erratic. suddenly a figure jumps out
her vision is still a stoned one but clear enough to set her target. we come straight at the abominable creature and:
there's a figure standing in the distance. but it looks too small to be jason. we rush towards it, changing into slow motion just before impact. the figure is a dripping wet boy with a sinister smile. young jason.
her uncle's face blurs and clears as water splashes her eyes.
young jason is grabbing her ankle and dragging her down. the whole image bursts into flames and we:
an ominously empty tunnel, soon to be filled with the unthinkable. the sound of rushing liquid is growing at leaps and bounds.
the overhead lights are banging around like an earthquake has just hit; the liquid will be arriving any second. her vision whip pans 180 degrees to find jason approaching from the opposite end, groping around with his scaly arms like the claws of a roto-tiller.
the ladder beneath them reappears. which gives way to a pair of hands gripping the bottom rung. the liquid drops further, unshrouding the now-dead corpse of eight year old jason. he's a relatively normal looking boy, probably the way he looked back in 1957. right when he drowned in crystal lake.