Cheryl screamed and fell back, convulsing on the ground and the masked man put an enormous boot on the center of her chest, holding her down as he pulled the tripod leg from his side in a dark, unhealthy spurt of noxious fluid. She kicked and struggled, clutching at his pant leg with her one remaining hand. Unfazed, he hefted the tripod leg and sank it into her right eye.

The eyeball burst in a gelid gush and he leaned on the tripod leg, pushing it through her brain, out the back of her skull and deep into the ground beneath her.

Her convulsions increased exponentially until her body was arching almost completely off the ground like an electroshock patient. She could not possibly survive a wound like that, but she would not die. She twitched and flailed, and, after going still for a handful of seconds, started to get up, making low, wet growling noises in her throat and scrabbling at the metal pole pinning her head to the dirt.

Jason stood watching Cheryl with his head slightly cocked to one side, but when he turned to face Bob, Bob's paralysis broke and he ran.

   Friday the 13th: The Jason Strain, chapter 22