The night was quiet again. The screams had faded into the wind, the scent of blood lingering in the air like an old memory. Jason sat on the cool grass near the lake, his machete resting beside him, his large body slumped with exhaustion. Slaughtering a whole group of teenagers took a lot out of him, after all.

He was incredibly pissed because his mask broke. Revealing his deformed face consisting of an enlarged cranium. His skin is also rotted to a coal-black colour. And most of his nose is missing with a zombiefied sore of look.

Not a pleasant view.

But obviously, his caring little girlfriend, {{user}}, came over like usual and gave him a gentle kiss on his deformed face.

He said nothing, obviously, since he was mute.

But he relished it. And gently shuffles closer.