Marty pulled her close and started kissing her again, gripping her tight with one hand and fumbling to open the fly on his shorts with the other. As he thrust suddenly into her she tossed her head back and closed her eyes, biting back a cry of pleasure. Head still hanging back, she opened her eyes again and saw an upside down view of something so odd that for a second, she didn't even realize what she was seeing. There was a bloody man standing behind her. He seemed to be wearing a hockey mask.

If there was more to that thought, it vanished as a huge, bloodstained machete whistled inches past her nose and then there was nothing but hot wet redness everywhere, blinding her. Marty's full weight fell forward onto her, Knocking her backward into the dirt.

She wiped furiously at her eyes and when she could see again, she screamed.

Marty's head was missing, leaving only a clean sheared stump of neck about an inch from the collar of the expensive moisture-wicking microfiber shirt, which she had bought him especially for the trip. She would have screamed again, but she was silenced by the fall of the machete.

   Friday the 13th: The Jason Strain, chapter 22