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- The ramp began to retract. Rapidly.
- Jason fell off the edge.
- "Yeah, fucking lie there, you shit!" Lisa screamed in fury and terror. "Fucking bitch-ass monster!" And a moment later, with added emphasis, "Sunuvabitch motherfucker!" She paused to consider the Oedipal implications of her inner monologue. She was standing at the end of a long hallway like a very young Jennifer Connely in Daric Argento's classic film, Creepers aka Phenomena.
- Cold, sterile track lighting glistened off blank white walls. Like a hospital. A morgue. A zombie place. She heard something outside. A rattling in the walls. A chewing of the scenery. A very big rat.
- Rats.
- The rats were in the walls.
- Lisa looked up, realized that her image was being caught on the surveillance cameras. An out-of-body experience, her fleet recognition. Somehow, the mistress of reality TV had become one of the screaming victims she'd so often pretended to be.
- Her picture began to break up. A giant blowing out a candle. Woosh. The rattling grew louder. Harder.
- Shit. Of course he was still coming. Jason always did. It was the nature of the beast to keep coming. Relentless. Unstoppable. Unbreakable. A man of metal.
- The ramp crunched like an accordion. And Jason came through the wall, predictable as the taxes of evil.
- Jason X: Death Moon - Pages 346-347
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