Create a new version of paste:

Bluestone fired first, the blast loud as an atom bomb, drilling through his and the others’ eardrums. The bullet punched into Jason’s chest, where his heart should be. 

The giant took a half step backwards. Then a whole step forwards. 

Shocked by the lack of response, Bluestone fired again. So did his men. Muzzles flashed to his left and right, spent bullet shells flying. 

Small explosions of dark green slime burst out of Jason’s chest. One slug struck his forehead, having burst through the very top of his mask, chipping and blackening it. 

Like a beast goaded one too many times, Jason launched into a frenzy. His blade slammed downwards, cleaving Bluestone’s skull in half, right down to his neck. Blood splattered the security chief's men as he went down. 

One guard broke off from the pack and vanished through the double doors, his face contorted in fright. The others fired again repeatedly, experiencing what they imagined must be combat shock. 

More oozing slime marked the bullet hits. Jason staggered back further this time, falling against the freezer door’s bulky frame. Immediately heaving himself upright, he made a vicious sideways swipe which removed most of one man’s head, slapping it wetly against a white wall. 

The remaining guards roared in horror as their second colleague collapsed. As Jason forced himself upon them, frenziedly swinging the weapon and carving off chunks—ears, arms, shoulders, a flap of scalp—they fired wildly. Blindly. 

Two consecutive bullets hammered into gas ovens with brightly burning hobs. Another split open a pipe that ran up the length of one wall. 

Whoosh. 

There was a low, primal boom, like hell’s own fireplace coming alight. Within seconds, the kitchen was consumed by rolling, orange flame.

   Chapter 20

The hotel’s fire alarm sounded again, as Jason Voorhees thundered through the kitchen’s double doors. Flames clung fiercely to his shoulders and what remained of his clothing. He continued his stride as though they were mere irritations. 

Behind him, the kitchen was an inferno. Fire lapped vigorously at the ceiling, constantly fed by the gas supply. Blackened heaps of flesh cooked steadily on the floor. 

A huge billowing fireball seemed to follow Jason, setting the double doors ablaze and blooming along the corridor behind him. 

At the other end of the corridor stood the security guard who abandoned his colleagues. He leveled his gun at the steadily advancing demon and squeezed off a couple of rounds. Most missed Jason entirely, as his hands were shaking. 

Jason shrugged off the two bullets that had sunk into his torso and walked on, still on fire. 

Once again, the guard turned and fled.

Chapter 21, Friday the 13th: Hate Kill Repeat