Glynda Goodwitch was not one of Ozpin's most trusted friends for no reason. She was a veteran huntress, dedicated to keeping the world safe and fighting back the Grimm that plagued the world of Remnant.

It was this dedication that eventually led to Ozpin entrusting her with his most important secrets: The existence of gods and magic. His reincarnation cycle, and the existence of the Immortal Witch, the Grimm Queen known as Salem.

It was a closely guarded secret, among both Salem and Ozpin admittedly, otherwise the world would most likely know about the woman at the point. Discounting Salem's own minions, only seven people on the planet knew the truth. Knew about Salem.

Well… now, that number had risen by one.

The ride on the Bullhead was one of the most tense rides she'd ever been on, without question. She was an experienced combatant, and her semblance was an exceptionally powerful one, one that matched her well considering her habit for organization.

She'd escorted prisoners when she had too, she'd cooperated with police officers in investigations when called. Her duties to Ozpin didn't negate her duties as a Huntress, nor did her duties as a teacher. In fact, any teacher at any Huntsman School, whether it be the prep ones like Signal, or the fully fledged ones like Beacon Academy, were pretty much required to be experience Huntsman.

Most prisoners she'd escort would look at her with derision, fear, occasionally, one of rage or an ugly look of lust.

This man showed none of it.

And Glynda had to admit, it put her on edge.

This man, Jason, Miss Rose had called him, was looking directly at her, never breaking line of site, she wasn't even sure if he'd even blinked, and from his body language, she couldn't detect a single hint of the aformentioned emotions.

Though, to be fair, the mask upon his head admittedly would hide any emotion he showed on his face, and body language alone isn't enough to truly guage one's reactions.

Glynda had met and encountered many large men in her life. Hazel Reinhart immediately popped to mind, one of Salem's veteran minions, a beast at eight feet, far larger than the man in front of her. Size alone never intimidated her.

Still, the way the man sat, his hands planted firmly on his knees, sitting upright, as if filled with confidence that if the situation called for it, he could handle her, put her on edge.

The trip back to Beacon was never a long one when leaving the Emerald Forest.

But it was more than enough time to at least try and figure out what she could about the stranger.

"Might I ask how you came to be in the Emerald Forest?" Glynda asked, raising an eyebrow as she looked at the man directly in the only eye he could see.

The man gave no response, not even a reaction to tell her he had heard her.

But his eye was wide open, staring directly at her, as if looking into her soul, and the short exchange between Ozpin and Jason not too long ago told her that he wasn't deaf.

Then again, Miss Rose had mentioned that Jason apparently couldn't speak, so it made sense that he gave no response, she surmised.

Glynda narrowed her eyes, deciding to fill the silence herself. "You turn up into a forest locked off from the public due to high concentrations of Grimm, and it just so happens that it's in the middle of a Beacon Academy initiation." The huntress said as crossed her arms. "That is a rather suspicious set of circumstances."

Unfortunately, within the Bullhead, Glynda had to be careful with her words. Bullheads like these ones, which were meant to transport people rather than cargo, had direct, unhindered passage to the cockpit. So Glynda would be unable to ask, or at least talk about, some of her more important concerns until well out of earshot of the pilot, or anyone else's hearing range.

Her eyes wandered down towards the weapon, a machete with a sheath strapped to the man's belt. She eyed it, examining it as best she could, memorizing every little detail she could about the weapon.

It wasn't a mechashift weapon. She didn't need to be an expert of any sort to see that.

Mechashift weapons had tells, small signs, that gave them away. Sections the separated so that they could switch between melee and ranged mode, usually tending to be a certain, vibrant color. And though not all of them did, most mechashift weapons usually had a symbol, an insignia held dear to the owner, engraved or imprinted on it, as all mechashift weapons are designed by the owner, and can be crafter by either the owner or a blacksmith.

One didn't simply buy mechashift weapons in a store somewhere, every single one is designed personally by the user with their own strengths and weaknesses in mind, as well as preference.

But the machete upon Jason's hip was exactly that, a simple machete. Though the blade was hidden by the sheathe, the grip, she could see, wasn't any sort of reinforced or high grade material common in mechashift weaponry. It was a plan black grip, completely solid.

She was almost positive the man in front of her was no huntsman. Though the symbol style wasn't always used on mechashift weaponry, the same was not true for their outfits. Symbols were badges of sorts, not nessicarily licenses, but they were like an I.D of sorts, almost always used on the often flashy and stylish clothing huntsmen and huntresses tended to wear. They represented the wearer's personality. For example, Miss Rose had… well, a rose, Miss Schnee had a snowflake, and so on.

This man had no symbol, at least, not one she could see. And his clothes… she severely doubted any huntsman would wear clothes like this man was wearing.

Most huntsmen and huntresses wore clothes tailored and designed to their liking, fitting their preferred style without inhibiting them in combat. Though sometimes crafted to resemble different materials, denim was pretty much a no go when it came to huntsman outfits.

But this man… he wore a plain pair of denim pants, a pair of… she honestly couldn't tell if the original color was black or brown from how worn they were, but she was going to assume they were black boots, and a green, long sleeved button up shirt.

His appearance in general was rather off-putting, honestly. The mask was the cleanest thing she could see on his person, and that wasn't saying much, considering how worn the mask itself was, the paint chipped away, and it looked as if it were a simple sturdy plastic mask. The rest of his outfit was… well, far past worn. They were caked in long-dried sweat and other fluids that she wasn't sure she wanted to know for sure, the color had long since faded from them. The shirt was dark, almost camo colored green, and the boots had surface damage, a little of the material and rubber peeling away from them.

The clothes were ripped and torn in various places, too many for Glynda to actually list them all accurately.

But that was just his clothes, his wardrobe. She hadn't even gotten to his skin.

From what she could see of his skin, it was… unnatural seemed like the best way to describe it. His skin was tight, almost corroded, it looked like. It looked like the kind of skin you'd see on a partially decomposed corpse, and considering her profession, Glynda had unfortunately seen plenty of those.

Honestly, in some spots, she wasn't sure if she was looking at skin, muscle tissue… or something else.

"I will warn you now, if you turn out to be a threat or have unjust reasons for your actions, you will be turned over to the authorites." Glynda warned Jason.

That finally elicited a reaction.

The single, lone eye that peered through the mask narrowed at Glynda's words, and then, to her surprise, he shook his head.

"I'm afraid you won't have a choice in the matter." Glynda said, shrugging off the man's response. Unless he had an extremely good reason for being here, and not to mention his knowledge of Salem, the man known as Jason would most definitely spend time incarcerated. If not in Vale, then Glynda could most definitely assume he would be under Ironwood's watch.

Jason's eye seemed to narrow even further, before he shook his head once more. Though, rather than coming off as a denial or a refusal, it came off more as if he were amused by her words.

"Do you think this is funny, sir?"

The man said nothing as he looked at her.

And he'd returned to being immobile, simply staring at her.

A part of her wondered if he wasn't simply staring at her, but studying her, analyzing her, assessing if she was a threat.

Well, should he cause trouble, she very well would be.

The rest of the trip continued in silence, before finally, Glynda could feel the bullhead begin to rotate and lower, signaling their landing.

And then, with a slight jostle, the bullhead went still.

As the rear hatch door opened up, Glynda stood to her feet, eyeing Jason sternly. "Follow me."

The man stood up at his words, and Glynda hated to admit it, but though she had full faith in her combat abilities and had no doubt she could stand her ground against him, Jason made her feel… small.

He was much taller than her, maybe a few inches taller than Ozpin, and he was also much larger. He broad shoulders were wider than her own by a large margin, and it didn't help that regardless of any abnormalities with his skin, he looked to be simply built strong.

But, it was unfortunately a feeling she was used too, being less than average height, and it wasn't one that would deter her in anyway.

As they exited the bullhead and she began to lead him towards their destination, into Beacon Tower and up to Ozpin's office, she found herself having to look back to see if he was still following her every once in a while.

In spite of his size, he very clearly knew how to be quiet, not just verbally, but physically as well. Despite the fact that he wore what had to be rather weighted work boots, every footfall was completely silent, much like her own.

Something else she'd have to take into account if she found herself in conflict with him.

With anything else she wanted to say being too much of risk, the walk to the elevator was completely silent, as was the ride up the elevator.

The only place in the entirety of Beacon's grounds without any sort of cameras or surveillance was Ozpin's office… and the basement.

In spite of how small the chance was, Ozpin took no risks when it came to his secrets and discussing them. Not if he could help it.

Finally, after a long, silent, and admittedly agonizingly tense elevator ride, they arrived at Ozpin's office.

The familar ever-moving gears in the walls continued to move like clockwork, and Glynda had a feeling that's what Ozpin was aiming for, but any time she'd ask, Ozpin would always give her the most generic answer.

"I like them."

Once safely within the office, Glynda turned towards Jason. "We will remain here until Ozpin arrives. When it comes to these matters, he prefers to be present during the entire duration of the discussion, or interrogation, if that's what this ends up being."

The man continued to make no suggestion that he'd even listened to her, and honestly, Glynda was fine with that. Until Ozpin arrived, she had nothing more she wanted, or could, say.

The wait was a long one, and Glynda had a pretty good idea as to why. Ozpin had to attend the orientation, assemble the teams, assign team leaders, so it made sense as to why she had to wait nearly forty minutes for Ozpin to arrive.

It didn't make it any less uncomfortable with the man she was present with.

But when the elevator doors opened, and Professor Ozpin exited them, Glynda felt relief finally flood her, though she didn't display it outwardly, and she still remained on her guard around the newcomer.

"Sorry for the wait." Ozpin apologized with a gentlemanly smile, glancing between both Glynda and Jason. "I had duties to perform as Headmaster, and unfortunately, assigning the new students to teams is always a rather prolonged ordeal."

Considering that with his reincarnation cycle, Ozpin was probably almost thousands of years old, even Glynda was admittedly befuddled about how forty minutes was a "prolonged ordeal."

"Now, from what I gathered from Miss Rose on the way here, before the orientation, you're name is Jason… Voorhees, if I recall correctly." Ozpin stated as he moved smoothly and swiftly around his desk, taking his seat. "To formally introduce myself, I am Professor Ozpin, Headmaster of Beacon academy, though you most likely know this already."

Jason made no move to respond.

Despite his polite smile seemingly relaxed demeanor, Glynda more than knew that Ozpin was on guard around the newcomer, especially with what he revealed.

"Now that we have a little privacy, Mr. Voorhees, I'm afraid I have a few questions, and I need them answered before any of us leave this room." Ozpin stated, his expression turning stern as he looked directly at Jason. "First of all, how do you know the name Salem?"

Jason said nothing.

Ozpin looked at Jason for a moment, before he shook his head and let out a soft chuckle.

"Right, my apologies." He said, pretending as if he'd forgotten something. "Miss Rose explained to both me and my assistant, Glynda here, that you don't speak." Glynda watched as Ozpin opened up a drawer in his desk, before pulling out a notepad and a pen. "And since you apparently do not know sign language, as Miss Rose so helpfully informed on the ride here, this will have to serve as a way for you to communicate with us." He says as he sets the pen and paper on the table.

Jason eyes the paper for a moment, before he moves towards the desk, closer to the writing utensils.

Glynda had to admit, it was a little jarring when Jason finally moved. Outside of moving his head, Jason had remained in the same spot the entire time she had waited in the office with him, and it felt like watching a statue come to life.

"So, I ask again; how do you know that name?" Ozpin asked once more, his gaze hardening again.

Jason glanced at Ozpin, before he leaned down, picking up the pen and moving the paper closer, holding it steady as he brought the pen down onto the notepad.

Despite it being lined notebook paper, Jason wrote sloppily, messy, his letters taking up large amounts of the page. It was almost like he was drawing words instead of writing them.

When he finished, he turned the page towards Ozpin, and pushed the notepad closer for him to read.

dA RkG Od

With the rather sloppy way it was scrawled rather than written, it admittedly took both Glynda and Ozpin a few moments to actually comprehend what Jason had really meant, but when it did…

Well, it wasn't really reassuring.

"The God of Darkness…" Ozpin whispered, his eyes wide as he realized the implications behind such a revelation. "Did… did he send you?"

That was a question Jason needed no tools to respond to, simply nodding his head in confirmation, one quick nod.

Ozpin stared at Jason for a moment, before he slid the paper back to him. "If the God of Darkness sent you, then I am inclined to believe he knows of his brothers actions involving me."

Again, a nod in confirmation.

Ozpin let out a sigh as he brought his hand to his head, trying to quell the already rising migraine. Of all the things he had thought of, learning the God of Darkness was involved was probably the furthest thing from what he'd expected, Glynda assumed, and it wasn't exactly comforting either.

"If the God of Darkness sent you, he probably has informed you of Salem, and of me, which explains why you scratched her name into the ground earlier." Ozpin surmised as he looked at Jason once more. "You knew that would get my attention."

Once again, Jason nodded.

Ozpin let out a sigh, before his hands folded into themselves as he looked at Jason seriously. "I'm afraid that with his reputation, and general predilection for cruelty, considering my own experiences with him, knowing that he sent you does not give me comfort. I need to know more. Why did he sent you?"

Once again, Jason leaned down and began to write on the notepad. Whatever he was writing, there were considerably more words, and with his apparent… ahem, style of writing, and Glynda used that term loosely, Jason ended up taking more than one page before he pushed the notepad back towards Ozpin.

PrOTe ctrUB Y roSE

sT OP SALEM

Although his writing was just as difficult to piece together the first time, he apparently knew the importance of Salem, as her name was written in large, completely retraced and boldened letters, and completely unbroken, written with intent.

Both Glynda and Ozpin's eyes widened at that. It made sense as to why The God of Darkness would want Salem stopped. He himself had been made a fool by her, and they had intended to punish Salem when they had given her immortality.

Unfortunately, their arrogance hadn't accounted for the fact that she might take her anger out on the creation they were most proud of: The rest of humanity.

Though he had faith in the God of Light, unlike Salem, over the years he had unfortunately found himself in agreement with her about that aspect of the Gods. They were arrogant, and believed what they thought was best.

However, of the two of them, at the very least, The God of Darkness seemed to have realized his error…

That, or this is just his attempt at payback against his brother for Ozpin's own revival. Admitedly, neither Glynda nor Ozpin knew for sure, and either way though, the God of Darkness was sending someone to help, not harm.

Though, one question remained…

"Far be it from me to question the brains of a god," Glynda spoke up, looking at Jason, eyeing him warily. "But how are you supposed to succeed where Ozpin has failed for thousands upon thousands of years?"

Jason simply stared at her for a moment, before he leaned down onto the notepad and wrote something else, a single word.

IMmo r tAL

Immortal. That's what Jason had wrote, and since it was a single word, both Ozpin and Glynda picked up on it rather quickly.

"Immortal?" Ozpin questioned in confusion as both he and Glynda looked at Jason. "So am I, in a sense, so how does immortality alone help?"

At his question, Jason remained still, unmoving for a moment.

And then, with completely unexpected speed, almost like lightning, Jason had drawn his machete from it's sheathe.

Now that it was out, Glynda could see that the blade was a solid silver, shiny, almost like new in contrast to the rest of the man, but her concerns were more on the fact that he'd drawn the weapon at all, considering the fact she and Ozpin, who was now on his feet, were both in combinative stances against the man.

However, rather than lunge at them, swing at them, Jason did something neither of them expected, and rather uncomfortable to watch. Glynda was not ashamed to admit that she'd turned a little green at the site, as it was something she'd never seen anything even remotely close too in her years as a huntress.

Jason turned the machete on himself, and with both hands, drove the machete directly into his chest!

They could both hear the bones cracking, the sound of tearing flesh accompanying it as Jason drove it into his sternum, down to the hilt. With the length of the machete and the precision, it had most definitely pierced his spine out the back as well.

They could see puss leaking out through the shirt, staining it as it pushed out of the wound in large amounts, accompanied by a thick, black, viscous liquid, which both Glynda and Ozpin recognized as coagulated blood.

Which shouldn't be possible.

Any second now, they expected Jason to crumple like a rock, since his spine was most definitely severed, leaving the nerves within unable to support him, disconnected from the rest of his body.

But Jason removed his hands from the machete, and left it embedded in his chest. And he continued to stand on his feet.

And stood.

And stood.

Despite basic biology, despite the fact that his spinal cord was most definitely severed, Jason continued to stand on his feet, surveying the two. And to make it an even more eerie, despite the blood and puss leaking from the wound, he made no signs of discomfort, nothing that indicated any sort of pain.

It was like he was either used to this, or he didn't even feel it.

Glynda didn't know which possibility irked her more.

"Good god…" Ozpin muttered as he stared at the man in absolute shock, his jaw practically on the floor at the site.

After a few moments of wide-eyed, horrified staring, Jason then grabbed the machete with one hand, and wrenched it from his chest with horrifying ease and speed.

And then… it was as if the wound wasn't even there, it had healed so quickly. The only indication of what had just occurred was the already drying blood and puss, and the blood now covering Jason's machete, which he sheathed as if there was nothing unnatural about what he'd just done to himself.

"When you say immortal… you don't reincarnate, do you?" Ozpin asked, and for the first time in the entire time she's known the man, his voice is just barely above a whisper. "You're just like Salem. You can't die."

Jason nodded his head, confirming what Ozpin had just said.

Glynda found herself glancing over at Ozpin, who returned it, before Ozpin slowly returned to his seat, trying to steady his nerves at the revelation.

Then his expression turned stern as he looked Jason directly in the eye.

"This may take a while due to our communication barriers, but if you are telling the truth… I need to know everything I can about you, everything you can do, in order for you to help us, and for me to help you."

Jason stared at Ozpin for a moment…

…and then he nodded.

Though, something told Glynda…

They weren't going to learn everything about Jason. Not just yet.

Just to let people know, I'm trying to mix multiple elements of Jason. In the film, Jason's durability works similarly to Wonder Woman's. Not in that he's just as tough as she is, but more in the way that she can tank explosions and go toe-to-toe with the likes of Superman, yet anything sharp can pierce her scan. Jason has survived a house exploding on top of him and having the rubble pretty much trap him, and crawl is way out. Also, a difference between Jason and Wonder Woman, funnily enough, it that when Jason is stabbed, it's never a fatal wound due to his immortality and healing factor. However, since it's never really specified how powerful his healing factor is in the movies, I'm going to just assume, for the sake of this story, that it's on the same level as it is in the comics, which means that he's insanely durable, and if it were to somehow occur, Jason can regenerate half his body in seconds.

Fun Fact: Jason's durability has been relatively inconsistent since Jason Goes to Hell, which my story assumes never happened. In Part VII, he survives being at the center of a house explosion, and the rubble collapsing on top of him, without a single scratch. Yet he's blown to hell in Jason Goes To Hell (Pun not intended), and in a comic, which I cannot remember the name of unfortunately, he has the entire left side of his chest blown off, by either an Rocket Launcher or a Grenade Launcher, I can't remember, despite survive a similar or more powerful explosion without a scratch in Part VII.

For my story, I'm trying to make Jason's powers a little more consistent, while assuming certain comics did happen along with the films.

Which is odd... considering he doesn't even have an Aura yet, and that's only gonna boost his abilities even more, now that I think about it.

Anyway, that's the end of the chapter, and I'll see you all in the next one.