Under the old woman's guidance, Luke got to work erasing the twisted symbols carved into the altar one by one.
He moved fast and clean, gathering the child's toy, the faded photos, and every other relic into a pile. Then he dumped Jason's bones right on top.
Gasoline from the car's tank soaked everything.
He struck a match and tossed it in.
Flas roared upward, turning the cave bright orange and swallowing the entire altar in seconds. The crackle of burning wood sounded almost like the final screams of a mother and son whose hatred and guilt were finally being purged.
The old woman stared into the fire, tears streaming down her wrinkled face.
"Oh, poor Mrs. Voorhees…"
Luke shook his head.
Nothing to pity.
Her son was murdered, so she murdered innocents in return. She got exactly what she deserved.
The fire burned itself out. The cave fell dark again.
But in the middle of the black ashes, a faint white glow appeared.
Luke's eyes narrowed. He stepped closer, wary, and brushed the top layer of ash aside.
The glow ca from Jason's bones.
They hadn't burned. Instead, the fire had purified them. Every bone now shone with a soft, holy light, smooth and pale like carved ivory.
Luke's jaw dropped.
"What the hell? Did they get polished or sothing?"
The old woman moved in beside him, equally stunned.
"This… shouldn't be possible…"
She picked up a rib, tested its weight in her palm, and her expression grew even stranger.
"Pure power. Completely pure."
Luke grabbed a finger bone. It felt warm and smooth in his hand. A clean, steady energy flowed up his arm—no rage, no hate, just calm strength.
The old woman thought for a mont, then her eyes lit up with understanding.
"Of course. These are Jason's true essence. The core of his power ca from his mother's absolute love. Now that the ritual is broken and the hatred is gone, that power has been revealed."
Luke turned the bone over in his fingers. It was still warm.
"Does this an Jason's not coming back?"
The old woman nodded firmly.
"Jason is dead for good. What's left is pure power. This skeleton can beco a powerful artifact."
She looked at Luke with a knowing smile.
"Boy, this whole ss ended because of you. These bones are your prize. You decide what happens to them."
She paused, studying him.
"But you're clearly self-taught. How about you give them to ? I'll turn them into a proper voodoo doll for you. Sound good?"
Luke's face lit up.
"Hell yes! If you hadn't offered, I probably would've just taken them ho and tried to make soup."
They left the cave behind.
On the way out, Luke kicked the rock wall hard. Stones and dirt collapsed, sealing the entrance forever.
On the drive back, Luke glanced at the old woman.
"Grandma, do you know any other people who can do this kind of magic?"
She shook her head, looking genuinely sad.
"Not since the lady who taught passed away. I haven't t another practitioner since."
"Honestly, if today hadn't happened, I would've thought voodoo was just little blessings and tricks. Half the ti I don't even know if they work."
Luke nodded. She wasn't lying.
"I ran into so cultists recently. Their thods felt a lot like yours. You sure this is voodoo?"
He gave her a quick rundown of what he'd seen—the brainwashed followers, the ritual killings, the twisted "evolution" through murdering family mbers.
When he finished, the old woman's face darkened.
"Those followers… yes, that's voodoo. You can get the sa effect with the right drugs and suggestion. Even the old grimoires list it that way."
Luke's mouth twisted.
"So it's that primitive? Even normal people can pull it off?"
The old woman's voice turned sharp with disgust.
"As for what that 'officer' told you about strengthening the body… voodoo can do it, but it's monstrous. What kind of psychopath decides the best way to get power is to drain it from their own blood relatives?"
The car went quiet.
In the rearview mirror, Luke saw Lionel's face go deathly pale. He was clearly thinking about his mother.
Luke cleared his throat and tried to change the subject.
"Grandma… do you think you could teach voodoo?"
To his surprise, she agreed instantly.
"Of course. And you—boy in the back seat who's dating my granddaughter—lean forward."
Lionel blinked, confused, but obeyed.
The old woman stared at him, deadly serious.
"You're basically a walking, talking voodoo doll now. You need to learn the craft, or one day your energy will run out and you'll drop dead without even knowing why."
Lionel's voice cracked.
"That… that serious?"
"You tell ."
She didn't soften at all.
"The power inside you isn't infinite. Every ti you use it, it drains. When it's gone, your soul goes with it."
Then she looked back at Luke.
"Making you a voodoo doll was always part of teaching you the real thing."
She stared out at the dark road, her voice turning cold.
"I've never t a proper voodoo group, but from what you've described, things are bad out there. They've corrupted the art. They're heretics now. Mr. Luke, I only have one request. The next ti you run into any of these twisted voodoo cultists, you kill them. I won't let that great woman's legacy be dragged through the mud by a bunch of lunatics."
"Done. I was already planning to put them down anyway."
Luke's answer was imdiate and cold.
They stopped at the campground on the way back.
The second Luke stepped out of the car, Nancy and the rest of the teenagers rushed over. They all looked exhausted, eyes ringed with dark circles, but they were wide awake and buzzing.
"Mr. Luke! What happened out there? We had a few people fall asleep, but we woke them up right away."
Luke followed her gaze. A couple of the guys had faces so swollen they looked like they'd gone ten rounds with a heavyweight.
"You don't have to worry anymore. Freddy's gone. I purified him."
Cheers erupted—raw, relieved, and way too loud for the middle of the night.
The celebration lasted about ten seconds before everyone admitted they were dead on their feet and stumbled back to the cabins to crash.
Luke drove into town.
At the small police station he flashed his badge and borrowed a phone.
The line clicked.
"Hello? Chief Woody?"
"Luke? The hell are you calling for on vacation? How's the break going?"
"Not great. We've got a body count in the dozens."
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