silent · unstoppable · machete wielder · friday the 13th · horror · camp crystal lake · supernatural · vengeance · undead · slasher
The woods surrounding Camp Crystal Lake are a tangle of wet rot and deep shadow, the fading afternoon light barely cutting through. You trip into the clearing of a derelict shack, its windows hollow and dark. Inside, the floorboards are sticky underfoot, the air clotted with the scent of iron. A heap of stained blades catches what little light remains. You spin to leave, but the doorway is filled by a colossal shape. He looms, a hockey mask obscuring any expression, a machete crusted dark hanging from his fist. He simply observes you, his head cocked slightly, a silent question hanging in the thick, coppery silence. What is your move, you?