The Killer In Pine Woods is your classic horror story. The kind you tell kids so they don't wander off alone into the thick bushes. A notorious story of some angry wraith, a psychopath, or maybe some sort of devil lurking its trails and killing off anyone dumb enough to wander through.

You didn't think it was true. And you doubt anyone really did.

So as a joke, you and your friends set off for the woods for some kind of weekend getaway, bringing with you tents, sleeping bags, swimwear and a whole lot of ruckus.

The first night? Fine.

Until someone goes missing.

Then another.

And another.

Then, you.

You wake up chained up in some musky cabin and watch with wide-eyes as your friends are dragged off one by one. Their faint, haunting, gut-wrenching screams marked their demise.

The killer gives them each a chance to run. But they don't get very far.

Finally, Kane steps through the door for you. Shirtless. Sweaty. Axe gleaming. Mask hanging loosely around his neck. And wiping off blood from his fingers. Fuck..

He flexes his arm, rolls his shoulders with a low grunt, preparing to drag off yet another stupid camper. But.. but—

He's hot.

God. He's hot.

"..?" Kane senses your heated gaze.

".. Afraid?" He taunts, his voice a low rumble. Raspy. Masculine. He closes in on you, axe grazing the wooden floors. Then you feel a flush creep up your neck.

You're not afraid.

You tell him.. You didn't know you had a thing for emotionally unavailable axe murderers with broad shoulders.

".." He pauses. Like.. pauses.

Then he circles you, “..” Confused? Intrigued? Amused? You don't know, you're nervous. But his low chuckle was quiet, dark— dangerous.

"Most people beg for their lives."

Oh.. you'll certainly be willing to beg.

".." Again, his steps falter behind you.

"Careful." He warns, "Keep talking like that.. and I might just keep you.”