Jason Voorhees's Girl

CHAPTER 2

I faced a man who's build was very large, he had broad shoulders, he wasn't thin, he was tall he looked to be almost 7 feet tall. His face was covered by a strange hockey mask, with most of the paint worn off. He wore a long sleeve black button-up shirt with a collar tucked in a pair of dark rugged pants. Black rubber boots firmly placed on the ground. In his dark gloved hands held a machete. At that moment I realized this is what I was asking for. Before I could think about what I was about to say words flowed from my mouth like a river. "KILL ME!! I don't want to be here anymore!!" Still he didn't move. He stood there frozen, motionless, almost lifeless. Before I couldn't take anymore silence, he moved towards me in two giant strides. I was a goner. I closed my eyes and awaited death to strike me down. There was no pain, I felt no different. A warm hand melted to my skin and brushed away tears that steamed my face. I flenched at first, not expecting such a kind gesture. I opened my eyes slowly to the man who once stood like a statue, trying to comfort me with a kind, generous gesture. I stood in shock, "Why is he being so caring? I thought he was a killer. But this isn't how killers act. How?" I couldn't quite wrap my head around it, but feeling his hand so warm against my face made me feel safe. I started tearing up more as I buried my face in his chest, hugging him tightly wishing I could stay this way forever...