The clang of steel echoed through the second-floor hallway as Ash and Jason traded blows at close range. Every collision between the silver greatsword and Jason's machete threw sparks across the narrow corridor, briefly illuminating the damaged wallpaper and bloodstained floor. Jason possessed monstrous strength, and every downward chop carried enough force to split an ordinary person through flesh and bone, but Ash was stronger.
Ash gripped the greatsword with both hands and redirected another heavy swing with a precise parry. Instead of meeting the machete head-on, he let the blade slide along his own weapon before twisting his wrists and cutting toward Jason's fingers. Jason took half a step back, narrowly avoiding the edge that would have severed several knuckles.
The hallway created the same problem Ash had faced while fighting Leatherface inside the Carson estate. His two-handed sword needed space to reach its full potential, yet the corridor was barely wide enough for him to swing without striking the walls. This time he could not simply retreat and lure his opponent somewhere more open because several terrified guests were still hiding in the bedrooms upstairs.
If Ash moved away, Jason would immediately abandon him and start chopping through doors until he found easier victims.
He adjusted his stance and kept the sword angled toward the floor. Every attack had to be controlled so the blade would not bury itself in drywall or furniture, leaving him with only thrusts, short diagonal cuts, and tightly controlled counters. Ash stabbed, withdrew, parried the machete, and thrust again, carving deep wounds across Jason's chest and abdomen without finding enough room for the full-power strike needed to cut through his spine.
Jason showed no interest in defending himself.
He simply walked into the attacks.
Ash drove the sword straight through his abdomen. The blade punched through rotting flesh and protruded from Jason's lower back while thick black fluid ran along the steel and dripped onto the floor. Any living man would have collapsed immediately, but Jason merely lowered his masked face toward the weapon before swinging the machete at Ash's shoulder.
Ash ripped the sword free and stepped back. The machete barely missed his shoulder blade before slamming into the wall with enough force to shatter plaster and tear away a strip of wallpaper.
Jason understood his own greatest advantage. His body could absorb damage that would instantly kill anyone else, and whatever supernatural force sustained him repaired those wounds with frightening speed. Defense was unnecessary when he could simply trade injuries until his opponent made one fatal mistake.
The machete came again. Ash raised the greatsword, caught the strike, and immediately turned his wrists into a short diagonal cut that buried the edge in Jason's neck. The blow opened rotting flesh almost to the spine, yet Jason ignored it and reached for Ash's throat with his free hand.
Ash drove a boot into Jason's abdomen and sent the larger man backward. His own back struck the opposite wall as he created a few feet of breathing room, and he quickly studied the damage he had inflicted.
The wounds were already closing.
"You really are impossible to kill," Ash muttered as he raised the sword again. "Let's see how well that works without a head."
Before the next exchange began, one of the bedroom doors opened a few inches. Sandra and her boyfriend cautiously looked into the hallway, clearly hoping the fighting had stopped.
Instead, they found a nearly seven-foot wall of rotting muscle wearing a hockey mask and carrying a bloody machete. Ash stood only a few feet away with an oversized greatsword while sparks and broken plaster covered the corridor between them.
Sandra screamed.
Jason's head snapped toward the sound.
Whatever remained inside him immediately lost interest in Ash. The sight of another frightened couple seemed to trigger something far stronger than ordinary aggression, and Jason turned toward them with his machete already rising.
Ash raised an eyebrow.
"Of course."
Jason charged.
Ash kicked his ankle out from under him before he could reach the doorway. The huge killer lost his balance, and his machete passed so close above Sandra's boyfriend that several strands of hair drifted from the top of his head before the blade buried itself in the doorframe.
The young man did not stop to appreciate how narrowly he escaped permanent baldness. He grabbed Sandra by the arm, and the pair stumbled into the hallway before sprinting toward the stairs. Sandra lost one slipper along the way, while her boyfriend nearly fell down the final few steps in his rush to escape.
Jason started pushing himself up.
Ash was already moving.
He stepped forward, planted one boot against Jason's torso, and concentrated all his strength into the point of the sword. The greatsword drove through the left eyehole of the hockey mask and punched completely through Jason's skull.
The blade emerged from the back of his head.
Black fluid splattered across the wallpaper.
Jason immediately swung the machete sideways.
Ash twisted away, but the edge still sliced through his shirt beneath the ribs and opened a bloody gash along his side. His muscles tightened almost automatically around the injury and restricted the bleeding, while the Pain Suppression ability he had gained from Billy Loomis prevented the wound from overwhelming his concentration.
The cut hurt.
It simply did not matter enough to slow him down.
Ash pulled the sword free and backed away while Jason remained on the floor. The eye wound had finally produced a noticeable effect, and Jason's movements became sluggish as his damaged brain began repairing itself.
Ash stared at the rapidly healing tissue.
"What the hell?"
He looked down at the greatsword.
Something was wrong.
During the fight with the Bloodthirsty Demon inside Leatherface, the Latin prayers engraved along the silver blade had glowed with holy light. Every strike against the possessed body released smoke and supernatural energy until the demon was finally destroyed.
Now the inscriptions remained completely dark.
The weapon looked like an ordinary, if extremely well-made, greatsword.
"Why isn't this thing reacting to him?"
Ash could clearly sense the demonic energy surrounding Jason. His own Demonic Power made that presence impossible to miss, and the corrupted force woven throughout Jason's body seemed directly connected to his abnormal strength and regeneration.
Yet the holy blade refused to respond.
Ash had already experimented with another possibility during the fight. He tried channeling Demonic Power through the greatsword, hoping the corrosive black energy could reinforce his attacks, but the weapon rejected it immediately. The moment the demonic force touched the silver blade, the holy energy inside the sword turned against Ash and burned his hands.
Holy power and Demonic Power clearly did not mix.
Before Ash could solve the problem, two more bedroom doors opened.
Four people stepped into the hallway after finally deciding the noise was too serious to ignore. One pair was clearly a couple, while the other consisted of Melissa and another young man.
Ash looked at Melissa for half a second.
Apparently, once Nick stopped being available, she had quickly found another option.
He did not have time to think about it.
Jason noticed them.
Something unbelievable happened.
His damaged eye and skull began repairing even faster. Torn flesh crawled back into place, the shattered tissue behind the mask reformed, and within seconds his head looked almost as functional as it had before Ash stabbed through it.
Jason suddenly surged upward with a burst of strength strong enough to throw Ash's boot aside. He grabbed the machete and charged toward the four newcomers.
Ash stared after him.
"You have got to be kidding me."
Jason had somehow become even more determined the moment two new couples appeared.
Ash had seen killers driven by revenge, demons driven by hunger, and cannibals driven by instinct. Jason apparently drew inspiration from the sight of people having functional romantic lives.
He pursued the killer before the distance between them could grow.
Jason reached the four guests first.
They reacted in completely different ways.
One pair immediately jumped backward into their bedroom and slammed the door. The other turned and ran toward the window at the end of the hallway.
Jason chose the closed door.
His machete crashed into the wood and punched straight through it. Splinters exploded across the hallway as a crack nearly as wide as a man's arm spread through the panel.
The people inside screamed.
Jason ripped the machete free and struck again.
The damaged door began collapsing inward.
Ash closed the distance from behind.
"You know, I almost respect the commitment," he said as he raised the greatsword. "Unfortunately, I have a girlfriend too."
Jason started forcing his way through the broken doorway.
Ash jumped.
His enhanced strength drove him forward as both hands tightened around the sword hilt. The heavy silver blade came down with a violent rush of air and struck Jason across the torso.
The impact nearly folded the huge killer sideways.
More than half the greatsword disappeared into his body, cutting through rotten flesh before becoming wedged deep between bone and muscle.
Jason stopped.
For the first time since the fight began, Ash had managed to put nearly all of his strength behind a single clean strike.
Now he only needed to find out whether it was enough.