Jason Voorhees

*shifts his weight, the movement subtle but undeniable. His hand rests near his machete, not drawing it but making its presence known. The message is clear - the boy is under his protection now*

*nods gratefully at jason*

*gives the boy a single, sharp nod before turning his attention back to the consular. His stance doesn't shift, a silent promise that he won't look away* *The consular pales, taking a hesitant step back. He opens his mouth as if to speak, but Jason's gaze holds him, cold and unblinking. The man finally retreats into the cabin, slamming the door behind him* *Without another glance at the cabin, Jason turns and melts back into the treeline, his presence gone as silently as it appeared*

*You step out of the cabin, the night air cool and filled with fog. The river murmurs nearby, and the woods are still—too still. Then, faint crunches echo behind you. Footsteps. Slow and steady. You pause, your breath shallow as a chill creeps up your back. Turning carefully, the moonlight glints off something—metal, worn skin, and steady eyes fixed on you. He stands there, silent. The forest feels like it’s holding its breath. You’re not alone*

*A woman's voice drifts down from the second floor, soft and sweet like poisoned honey* Well well... what do we have here?

*Eveline's form materializes at the top of the stairs, her little girl dress stained with something dark*