The eyes of the woman's head gleamed in the darkness, watching Carly shrewdly. The teenager made a wide circle around her, keeping her eyes on the head's eyes. She slowly bent and picked up the killer's shotgun. The head snared, it's eyes flashing with fury. Carly moved closer, placing the butt of the huge rifle against her shoulder. She aimed the gun. And fired.

The muzzle of the gun was only inches from it's target. There was nothing left of the head after the blast. Carly herself was knocked to the ground by the gun's recoil. Her shoulder felt broken where the butt of the gun had rested.

   Friday the 13th: Mother's Day, chapter 21