Jason Voorhees Hockey Masks の小説・ストーリー

She frowned, lifting her gaze to the mysterious figure dressed in black clothing from head down to toe and a nose mask covered his nose and mouth, leaving just his eyes to view. “Who are you?” As she finished her question, the man raised his hands pushed the hoodie cap off his head, and pulled off his nose mask. “What the fuck, Jason.” The name left her lips in a hiss of disgust and disbelief. “The fuck? This is what being fucked means.” He pointed to the wounds on his body and face that he was yet to heal from Caspian’s brutal beating. “You never learn. You were asked not to come close to me again.”

He was smearing it on their faces. "Ohh …right... I forgot we were in the war." That was the Max they all knew. A comedian. A cheerful guy. His personality was slowly coming back. It could be he was feeling comfortable around them or finding a way to fit in. "We better run. They are too many" Jason held Sally's hand and ran forward, still wearing the mask gear. He didn't know when they would attack with the mist again. He wondered what the mist was.

Ice explained. “Will you be playing 004?” Ice nodded quickly. “Most likely.” “But doesn’t he already know your face from when he visited the club? And why does he need to wear such a half-mask?” Jacob asked, recalling Lucas’s use of a mask. “Yes, he knows. But I can use a disguise. So far, I’m the one who knows him better. He uses the mask to cover a scar left by Cassius.” Ice glanced at Jacob, who frowned.

We moved as a coordinated team, covering each other’s weaknesses and amplifying each other’s strengths. During the fight, I managed to land a solid blow across Coach Margaret’s face, leaving a deep scratch mark on his right chin. The sight of his blood on my claws gave me savage satisfaction. “You’ll pay for this interference!” Coach Margaret screamed, touching his wounded face. But instead of continuing the fight himself, he turned to someone else in the group. “Jaxon! Stop them!” That’s when I realized one of the masked figures was Jaxon from the rival hockey team. He pulled off his mask, revealing his face twisted with hatred and determination.

Or my mom, for that matter. He parks his car in a parking lot packed with all kinds of vehicles. They're all shiny and look expensive, and I even know some of them. "Stay close to me, Yara. This is the club. I'll take you to the back so you can change. I don't want anyone to see you like this." There's a line of people trying to get in. Jason is stopped by a guard. He's wearing sunglasses, which is strange considering it's dark out. He looks over at me. "Who the fuck is that, Huxley?"

I looked away. "This is Liam Black, our left wing," the guy with grey eyes and black curly hair nodded at me, and I smiled. He threw his arm, pointing at another man with beautiful, warm hazel and brown hair. "Meet Jaxson Jenkins, aka J-bomb, our right wing." Jaxson winked at me, and I chuckled. "Have you met Mason Kane, our defenseman?" he elbowed the dude sitting next to him. Kane smiled, all teeth, and it warmed my heart. I was amazed by his curly auburn hair and bright green eyes that were fixed on mine.

I didn't drink last night nor did I smoke anything so why the heck am I seeing things? There was no way in hell the Legendary Killian Greenberg was standing in this room. I'd recognize him even in my dreams. Tan skinned, long black hair he keeps plaited, ears pierced with small earrings, and the tattoos snaking up his arms and neck. This was the real deal. This is the real Killian Greenburg, my hockey hero and nerd 2.0 just called him dad?

But the deeper I go, the more the pieces match what I saw: fangs, fur, gold eyes, the growls. My fingers type: Kaelan Viero. I don’t know why I thought to search his name. And the results? Just sports articles, photos from national hockey matches, TV interviews, and Kaelan’s face in ads as a global brand ambassador. All about his fame as a captain, his looks, his athletic body. Nothing about the other side of him. No hint that the man I saw can turn into something terrifying. Just praise, achievements, and charismatic smiles on the podium. A stark contrast to what I witnessed last night.

Jason scowled. "What sort of assistance?"Before I could reply, he turned to Rick, moving forward with a relaxed air. Holding out his hand, he grinned widely. "It's great to meet you. Why don't you remove your mask? We're all friends here."Rick had been quiet until this moment, his presence a ghost in the darkened room. He sported a half-mask over the bottom half of his face, just enough to conceal his identity. Otherwise, he would have been known the instant he entered."Not so fast," Rick spoke calmly. "I don't make friends easily."Jason nodded, his smile never wavering. "It’s okay if you’re not comfortable. If you want to hide your identity here, wearing your mask is fine."With that, he set

“You're not gonna take a shot at any?“ Darius asked, gesturing at the workout tools. “Nah, I'll pass.“ In just yoga pants and a sleeveless shirt, I wasn't doing any of the workouts. Wasn't in the mood. A thousand thoughts were running through my mind and they had my spirit low. Watching them was refreshing enough. But I had no urge to get into the action. The approaching light steps attracted our gaze and mine widened at the sight of Jason. He was dressed in tight shorts. With no shirts on, his tattoos were the only thing clothing on the upper side of his body. He had his shoes on and was taking sips from his bottle of water and holding a towel in the other hand. He was yet to look our way.