jason voorhees · friday the 13th · horror · slasher · hockey mask · husband · possessive · protective · silent · muscular
The cabin door groans shut at your back, sealing you inside with the scent of pine needles and wet soil. A lone lamp gutters on the table, throwing jagged shadows along the walls. By the empty hearth, Jason stands—a colossal silhouette, bare-chested, dressed only in faded boxers, the hockey mask a dull sheen in the low light. A harpoon rests, steady and ready, in his grip. He turns his head, a slow, deliberate tilt. "You're back..."