New story! Read "A Nightmare in Arendelle" first, as this story works off of events from there. All other stories not already completed will be on hiatus for a while. I have so many ideas, including this one, that I can't do all these at once. I'm not a very patient person when it comes to my work.

Masked Killers

Prologue

The large man placed his hockey mask back onto his face as the hole in his torso sealed. Flesh weaved itself back together as he watched, but the hole in his clothes remained. He would have to get new clothes. And another machete, too. He needed his trademark weapon.

First, though, his legs needed to grow back. This took longer than the hole in his body, as he had to regrow entire limbs as opposed to sealing a wound. It took an entire hour before he could walk again.

The man stood up, looking around at his surroundings. After his battle with his nemesis, Freddy Krueger, his regenerative powers took a while to kick in. He crawled out of Arendelle, fearing that place now, and wandered down south while he waited for his wounds to heal again. Now that he actually got a good look at his surroundings, he could see that he was in a swampy forest at night, the only form of light being a full moon hanging lazily in the dark, star-filled sky. That did not matter, however. The man could see quite well in the dark, due to his experience of hunting his helpless prey from the safety of darkness. Whether or not there was light wouldn't matter. He could see either way.

The man walked on and soon saw artificial, man-made light in the distance. Civilization. He walked on, hoping to find a suitable change of clothes and maybe even a replacement for his lost machete. Though he would miss that machete. It was the one used to decapitate his mother, and he in turn used it to continue his own vengeful rampage in his mother's name. Hundreds had fallen to his blood-lust.

Except for the one that got away. The woman with the icy dress...

The man shook the thoughts from his head as he came to a hill overlooking the forest. In the distance, in a large clearing, was the source of the light; a large warehouse sat on the top of a hill opposite the one the man was on now. It was a bit lower than the hill he was on, but it did not fail to be imposing. It's walls were made of metal and was inside a large chain link fence. Watchtowers were not uncommon, their spotlights sweeping across the ground. There seemed to be only one entrance; a large metal set of double doors.

The man walked towards the warehouse. Weapons or not, he would get what he wanted. Clothes and a machete. He would be sneaky, just in case. However it did not matter whether or not he was spotted. Even without weapons, he could take out every single man and woman in that warehouse. He was sure of it.

After all, Jason Voorhees was not a normal man.

"Lord Bison." said the scientist. "Our hidden cameras picked up something."

Master Bison, commonly known as simply M. Bison, looked down at the scientist, easily towering over him. "Something? All you have is SOMETHING?"

The scientist gulped and continued, "A man is approaching the warehouse."

"And here I was thinking that you failed me. Who is it?"

"Not sure, Lord Bison. He's wearing a mask."

"Vega? He has betrayed us?"

"No, Vega is in Germany, dealing with a problem with the resident citizens."

"Well, show me the man."

The scientist brought up the image on a screen. The man was large, muscular, and bald. He had a shredded blue hoodie and jeans torn at the knees, and his legs were bloody and bruised, however they seemed to be healing over time. The man had a hockey mask with red decals on his face.

M. Bison scoffed. "Another pitiful fighter with a gimmick, no doubt here to prove that his fighting skills are better than all the rest and all that cheesy stuff. Send a Doll to deal with him."

"Any preferences, Lord Bison?"

Bison smiled evilly. "I think it's time that Decapre got back in action, don't you agree?"

The scientist nodded, having trained himself to agree with M. Bison's opinions, and left to wake up Decapre.

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