Just a short drabblish story I did. I may delve further here but for now, it shall be a one-shot. Basically, Jason really hates the fact that he has his father's eyes.
His Father's Eyes
Emerald orbs stare back in the reflection of the broken mirror. The dark, intense emotions burning within them, showing the wretched scars that run deep within the dark soul and heart of this undead being, thriving in the sound of screaming as though it were a wondrous melody and relishing in the sight of blood, the red splashing and decorating his frame as he brought his gleaming weapon down with a mighty swing, effectively silencing the screaming of his victims. Those same emerald orbs glaring down at their victim who would take their last breath of life before it leaves their embodied self and the light fades away from their eyes, becoming empty and cold.
A large hand came up and pressed on the broken glass, the emerald darkening even more as he continued to stare into them. A burning rage bumbling within his very soul, breathing heavily while clenching his hands into fists, hatred and resentment coursing throughout the mind and memories of a life long since past; a life that was no longer his.
In a past life where there were very few who showed kindness to him, there have been many an occasion where'd been told by the few that he had his mother's smile. (A smile withcracked lips. A cleft to the side revealing his crooked teeth)
He didn't believe them but smiled anyways just to humor them.
However, what had struck out the most in his deformity were his eyes. The deep emerald eyes with an intense gaze to draw people in. So unlike the soft brown eyes his mother had.
They were his father's eyes.
The eyes of a man he hated!
A sharp crack resounded within the dirty bathroom, echoing throughout the air. He stood still, the reflection in the mirror becoming uneven and multiplied into smaller parts.
Stepping back, he stared at the mirror, at the reflection, at those green eyes…
Turning away, a scowl formed under the worn out hockey mask. Glaring though the sockets into the air, as if daring a higher being above to tell him something he does not wish to know nor care.
After a pause, he marched out of the bathroom, out of the cabin, and out into the forest.
Leaving the cracked mirror and those green eyes…
His father's eyes…