Jason Voorhees Hockey Masks の小説・ストーリー

We slammed our torsos together in a hard half-hug, pulling back to lock hands. “Nice shot, Maddox,” Charles called out, skating over to join the team huddle. My eyes drifted past him, flicking back up toward the players' box. Jason was standing right by the glass, a genuine grin on his face as he watched us celebrate the win. I pointed my gloved hand straight across the rink at him, watching as heads in the crowd immediately began turning in his direction. Annoying the hell out of him was officially my favorite past-time.

Walking toward me, his massive frame cutting through the morning mist, was Jaxson. He wasn't wearing his hockey gear anymore, just a heavy black hoodie with the hood pulled down, gray sweatpants, and a dark duffel bag slung over his right shoulder. His left shoulder was noticeably stiff, a brutal reminder of the hits he had taken to secure that trophy. He looked exhausted, the dark circles under his amber eyes stark against his pale skin, his jaw covered in a thick layer of dark stubble. There were no cameras here. No microphone packs. No network producers hiding in the bushes to capture a scripted moment of high-friction drama.

a deep, gravelly voice rumbled beside him. Jaxson stood shoulder-to-shoulder with him, looking massive and terrifyingly severe in his home black-and-gold Warriors jersey. He was wearing his full armor, his heavy skates laced tight, his dark amber eyes locked onto Marcus across the ice with a raw, territorial hostility that the broadcast crew was frantically trying to keep out of their wide-angle shots.

Martinez tried to fight back, but he was quickly overwhelmed. "Let him go!" Jason shouted. "I'll come with you! Just don't hurt him!" One of the attackers, a man wearing a black mask, stepped forward. "You're in no position to make demands." Jason felt something sharp prick his neck. A sedative injection. His vision started to blur immediately. "What do you want with me?" Jason asked weakly as the drug took effect. "You need to rest, going master," the masked man replied. Jason's legs gave out, and he collapsed. The last thing he saw before losing consciousness was Martinez being dragged away by several attackers.

He fixed his light-colored hair as his eyes glowed for a second in the dark. "You have no clue what you've started, Jason Blackwood" he said, walking to the door. "No clue at all." ~~~ Jason woke up early, worry already eating at his gut before he even got out of bed. No angry wolf-man had crashed through his window during the night, but that didn't mean he was safe. Ivan Volkov didn't seem like someone who'd forgive being stood up. He checked his scent blocker twice, putting on extra to be sure. Then he packed his gym bag for basketball practice—an extra shirt, shorts, and most importantly, a small bottle of the mix hidden in a secret pocket of his basketball shorts.

He hit the ice hard but bounced back up like it was nothing. But I saw it. The way he winced. The way he held his ribs for half a second too long. "Selena," Sarah whispered. "You okay? You look like you’re watching a horror movie." “Fine,” I said. My voice was scratchy. “Just... intense.” The buzzer blared. Timeout. Players skated off toward the benches. Dominic pulled off his helmet, and I swear I could see steam coming off him. His jersey was torn on the shoulder. Blood on the fabric. Just a little, but enough to make my breath catch.

He threatened me. "Jason?" "Gerald, it's me daring you now." His eyes were bloodshot. I turned to my boys and they nodded at me. I began by pulling off my mask. Jason* I watched as he began to take off his armour coats and boots. First was his mask, he was just as bearded as always, just like I imagined his face would be. It was as though his power existed in those beards because he would never shave his beards, they were all curled up and unkempt.

I pulled my hand away from her and followed Jason to the parking lot. "Your mom really, cares about you," he said when we got to the car and I nodded. He held my two hands. "You won't lose yourself, will you?". I stared at him and shook my head. "I take that as a no". He opened the door."Let's get you to the Ice pack in time so we can return before nightfall" I entered the car and he drove off. The journey was quiet since I wasn't the chatty type. Jason was also busy with his thoughts he said nothing to me. When we finally got to the Ice pack, Jason handed me a mask.

Then he checked the bag and his eyes popped out at his favorite color’s clothes: Yellow and red stripped tank top with blue ripped jeans. “Are you serious, ice face?” He trailed his fingers over the fabric to feel the softness. “It’s so smooth, I love it!” This special outfit blossomed happiness in Jason’s heart, he hummed a song while slipping into those clothes. Mathew had arranged a separate room with a special glass window, so he could see the sun without getting hurt. Unknown to Mathew’s real motive, Jason was ready before sunset. He opened the icebox filled with blood bags for the need of his day.

"You’ll be the most stylish spy out there." "And you, Mom!" Jason faced me, offering a broad-brimmed hat and a set of cat-eye sunglasses. “You have the potential to be the fashionable one!” I chuckled, putting them on. “What about Ethan?” Jason ran to another rack, pulling out a fake mustache and handing it to him. Ethan raised an eyebrow but put it on without complaint, his grin hidden beneath the absurdly large mustache. “Perfect,” Jason said, laughing. Ethan turned to me, his eyes crinkling with amusement. “How do I look?”