Life with superheroes

Under the moonlight, a tall figure stood in the camp.

A pale hockey mask, a machete covered with dark stains, and a constant, cold malice radiated from him.

As he appeared silently, his shadow seemed to twist and distort.

He turned slowly, almost mechanically, looking over the scattered tents. Raising the knife in his hand, he began walking toward one.

A breeze picked up, and within seconds it grew stronger, bringing clouds that floated in to block the bright moonlight. Then, the figure approached a tent.

The knife in his hand, though dirty, sliced through the fabric as smoothly as silk, making no sound.

He looked at the sleeping man and woman inside, raised the knife in his hand, and slashed down without hesitation.

It was like splitting open a watermelon.

A hiss!

Fresh blood spurted, splattering against the tent and trickling down along its curved surface.

The figure stood up and moved on to the next target.

But his search seemed selective. He passed several tents without killing anyone inside, choosing each target with apparent deliberation.

When he finally picked his next "lucky" victim, his knife came down, blood splattering onto his body, hands, and mask, enhancing his sinister appearance.

One after another...

He was like a tireless worker, methodically harvesting lives.

Swish!

He gently opened another tent.

Inside lay a man and a woman, sleeping in each other's arms.

But this man was much more alert than the others. His eyes opened as soon as the knife cut through the tent, and as the blade came down, he grabbed the figure's wrist with both hands.

"Ah!"

A scream.

Millie looked at the masked figure in terror. As the knife inched closer to Coulson, she kicked the figure hard in the crotch.

The tall figure visibly froze.

Coulson seized the opportunity to push him away. As Millie scrambled to open the tent, he rolled out.

He took a deep breath, relieved by his luck. Admiring Captain America had driven him to practise martial arts, and his vigilance during sleep had saved him tonight.

Clutching Millie's hand, he shouted as they ran, "Help! Someone's killing people!"

Their cries echoed through the dark night.

Some people stumbled out of their tents, while others cursed and tried to keep sleeping.

The tall man chased after Coulson without a word, closing the distance like a predator stalking prey.

Among the awakened campers, a few screamed at the sight.

"Jason!"

"That's the legendary killer, Jason!"

"Isn't that just a legend?"

"Run!"

"That's a monster! He's been resurrected so many times!"

The camp's peace shattered as panic spread. People bolted in all directions.

But Jason ignored them, following Coulson.

Then, suddenly, Jason threw the machete in his hand.

Coulson pushed Millie aside and dropped to the ground.

Sssshhh

The blood-stained machete embedded itself in the dirt between Coulson's legs.

"Haaa….."

He drew a shaky breath, glancing at Jason, who was closing in once again. Wasting no time, Coulson scrambled to his feet.

Moments earlier in the tent, he'd sensed Jason's superhuman strength. Fighting him would be futile.

Jason bent down, retrieved the machete, and turned to continue his pursuit. But something seemed to distract him, and he looked to his left, striding in that direction instead.

Coulson, who had been watching Jason closely, paled.

"Damn it, that's Mike's tent!"

His expression turned grim.

If not for him, this family wouldn't have come here. If they ended up in danger, he would never be able to forgive himself.

With that thought, Coulson pushed through the panicked crowd, chasing after Jason.

Millie, who had just caught up, screamed, hesitated, and then followed him.

Meanwhile, in the Kent family's tent...

"Dad, it's so noisy outside..."

Eric mumbled, turning over to wrap his arms around Charles, who was already half asleep.

Only in their sleep did they show such harmony.

Clark sat up, his face pale as he listened. He looked at Mike and said, "Dad, people are running away outside. It sounds like someone was killed."

Mike responded softly, patting Clark's head. "Don't be afraid."

Clark nodded and continued, "I heard someone shouting Jason's name. They said he's the legendary killer."

Jason…

Mike's lips twitched.

He should have figured this out sooner.

The lake was Crystal Lake. After Jason's notorious killings, they had renamed it Green Lake.

"Tch." Mike slapped his forehead.

If he didn't know Coulson, he might've thought the man had brought him here on purpose.

A thought flashed through his mind as he opened the tent. His heart pounded, his eyes narrowing as he spotted a figure approaching through the darkness.

"Clark, stay inside. Let me handle this."

With a calm smile, Mike turned around and closed the tent under Clark's worried gaze.

Whoosh!

Jason hurled the machete, aiming at Mike's back.

"Don't!" Coulson, chasing after Jason, screamed, already imagining Mike being impaled.

But…

Mike, as if he had eyes in the back of his head, sidestepped slightly and caught the machete mid-flight. Then, turning swiftly, he threw it back at Jason.

With a sharp whistle, the machete lodged in Jason's chest. The man staggered, took a few steps back, and fell.

Coulson stared in disbelief at this scene in front of him.

"Ah!" Millie, close behind, shrieked, pointing at Jason.

Jason, lying on the ground, stood up again, gripping the machete's handle. Slowly, he pulled the blade from his chest.

The sound of flesh scraping against metal was grating, sending chills down Coulson and Millie's spines, though Jason himself didn't utter a sound of pain.

Tip

Tip

Tip

Blood dripped from the machete's blade.

A menacing aura hung over him.

Coulson and Millie stood frozen, horrified.

Mike sighed as he saw this.

This relentless killer, a Crystal Lake legend, wouldn't be taken down so easily But for Mike, this level of threat wasn't much.

Mike approached Jason, taking a few measured steps forward.

Jason raised his machete, his gaze locking onto Mike. But with a swift sidestep, Mike dodged easily. Then, with a flash, a dagger materialised in his hand. With a swift thrust, he drove it into the back of Jason's neck.

Jason's body stiffened, and Mike, unperturbed, conjured another dagger and stabbed it into the monster's heart.

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