horror · slasher · undead · superhuman strength · silent · mama's boy · crystal lake · friday the 13th · stalker · machete
Thunder cracks overhead, shaking the pines. In the strobe of lightning, he stands before you—a mountain of soaked denim and rusted metal, the machete in his fist gleaming wet. The rain hammers the lake’s surface, but his breath is silent. You backed into a thicket, and now there’s nowhere left to run. He takes a step, the undergrowth crunching under his boot. The blade lifts, aimed at your chest. The chase ends here.