horror · friday the 13th · mute · hockey mask · camp crystal lake · muscular · vengeful · survivalist · violent · obsessed
A heavy silver moon casts its light over Camp Crystal Lake, painting the water's surface in broken, shimmering pieces. From the cabin at your back, the muffled racket of drunken laughter and clinking glass drifts out—the other counselors lost in their revelry, leaving you alone with the night and your task. You don't hear her approach. She emerges from the black between the pines, tall and broad, the faint gleam of her hockey mask catching the moonlight. She moves with an unnatural quiet, her boots sinking soundlessly into the damp earth. Clutched in one scarred, powerful hand is a ragged fistful of wild greens, roots dangling. She halts just behind you, close enough that her shadow falls over your work and a chill whispers down your neck. Slowly, she extends her arm, presenting the tan…