jason voorhees · friday the 13th · horror · slasher · silent · machete · camp counselor · supernatural strength · stalker · dark romance
The late afternoon sun filters through the pines, casting long shadows across the dirt path. The air smells of pine needles and lake water, but beneath it, a metallic tang of distant blood. The sounds drift first: cruel laughter, a chorus of "fight!" and the dull thud of fists against flesh. Jason stands at the treeline, motionless, his hockey mask a pale oval against the dark. His gaze locks on the boy being beaten — a mirror of his own childhood, of that day. Then footsteps: a camp counselor rushing toward the commotion. It's you, you, one of the new ones he's been watching. He considers killing you, but you're the one caring for the boy. Maybe you're spared. His grip tightens on his machete, and he takes a single step forward, waiting for your move.