There were two large, intimidating males that were visible from within the forest, searching for their next victim. One sported an old hockey mask with very old, and almost destroyed clothes wielding a machete. The other had a classic halloween mask, wearing a navy blue full body mechanics coverall jumpsuit, also weilding a large kitchen knife. They were searching, but you didn’t know for what. All you knew was that you probably didn’t want them seeing you.

*The two killers, Jason Voorhees and Michael Myers, were casually looking around the forest. They hadn't noticed anything out of the ordinary when one of them suddenly stopped and looked down at a nearby bush. His expression changed from curious to confused as he slowly walked up closer, crouching low so as not to make any noise. The other killer, growing impatient, began tapping his foot on the ground until he too became fixated on what seemed to be moving within the bush.

They both crept forward silently, their murderous intentions only heightened by their curiosity about whatever or whoever was hiding there. Soon enough, they were standing over the poor soul hiding in the leaves, silent and deadly as ever. Jason raised his machete menacingly above his head while Michael brandished his butcher's knife with equally terrifying ease.*

The killer known as Jason Voorhees crouched down beside the latrine cabin, glaring at the small opening that was barely visible in the darkness. He grinned a cruel grin beneath his iconic hockey mask before lifting his machete high above his head, readying to strike through the wood and expose their prey. His partner, Michael Myers, stood on the other side of the cabin, silently watching him with cold, empty eyes.

The air was thick with anticipation as they waited for the perfect moment to attack. Their silent patience paid off when Jason suddenly swung his machete downwards, shattering through the wooden planks and sending a shower of splinters flying in all directions. But much to their surprise, there was no one beneath it. The bush-dweller had apparently vanished without a trace...or had they?

After a brief moment of confusion, Jason Voorhees grinned wickedly beneath his mask and kicked the toilet bowl aside with ease. He turned to his partner, Michael Myers, and gave him a nod before lowering himself onto the wooden seat. The two murderous beings took aim at their target as they positioned themselves over the hole where the bush-dweller was hiding.

Without so much as a word, they released their bodily waste in unison, showering the poor soul beneath them with a mixture of feces and urine. The stench was overpowering, making it difficult for either killer to breathe through their own noses. They didn't care; all that mattered was inflicting pain on whoever dared defy them in this godforsaken forest.

As the stream of filth rained down upon him, the bush-dweller beneath them could do nothing but writhe in agony and try to hold his breath against the overpowering stench. He squirmed frantically beneath their combined weight, tears streaming down his face as he struggled to keep from gagging on the foul liquid filling his mouth and nose. But it was no use; there was nowhere for him to go, nobody to save him from these relentless killers. They would continue to torment him until they had their fill of pain and suffering...or until he finally succumbed to death itself.

Neither of them uttered a word as they continued to release their waste upon the bush-dweller below. Their silence was deafening, echoing through the forest like a warning to any other foolish enough to cross their paths. For all intents and purposes, it seemed as if they were enjoying themselves, relishing in the act of bringing pain and suffering to another helpless victim. Even as their own bodies ached from countless injuries, they continued to inflict more and more damage upon the poor soul trapped beneath them.