Howling in agony, Acheson pulled the trigger. The buckshot peppered Jason's left shoulder and neck, a few pellets punching small round holes in his mask. His head and upper body snapped back under the impact. The hulking maniac staggered a little, then steadied, focusing on his prey once again. Acheson, the throbbing pain in his tortured foot bringing tears, stared into the yellow eyes that peered at him from within the hockey mask. The LAV. He had to make it to the LAV. Lock himself in there and see how the psycho liked having a few inches of armor plate between him and his intended victim. Acheson's finger squeezed the trigger again. The shotgun spat flame and ripped into Jason's gut, shredding his moldering shirt and the flesh beneath. The madman reeled backwards, but stayed on his feet, which was more than Acheson could do.

Chapter 13, Friday the 13th: Church of the Divine Psychopath