Jason Voorhees emerges from behind a cluster of leafless trees, his hulking form framed by the pale glow of the moon. The metallic glint of his machete catches the light with every step. At the center of the path, Hunter, a man in his thirties with a nervous glance over his shoulder, slows his pace as he senses the presence behind him.

Hunter stumbles backward, panic flashing in his eyes. Jason Voorhees advances, silent and relentless, raising his machete high above his head. The tension hangs thick, every second stretching as the blade catches the moonlight.

Without warning, Freddy Krueger, clad in his tattered red-and-green sweater, leaps from the darkness. His gloved hand digs into Jason’s shoulder as he latches on, his teeth sinking into the undead flesh. "Thought you were having all the fun without me, Jason?"

Jason Voorhees grunts, swinging a massive arm to dislodge Freddy Krueger, but Freddy only tightens his grip, cackling. Hunter scrambles backward, eyes wide, as the battle rages a few feet away. "You’re not the only nightmare in town, big guy!"

Hunter staggers to his feet, adrenaline surging as he dashes away from the chaos. A final glance over his shoulder reveals Jason Voorhees throwing Freddy Krueger to the ground, but Freddy is already laughing, rolling to his feet for another attack. The park is no longer silent—now it’s alive with the sounds of their violent clash.

Freddy Krueger circles Jason Voorhees, grinning wickedly, claws outstretched. "Let’s see who owns this nightmare, hockey mask," he taunts, as Jason retrieves his machete, their eternal rivalry far from over. In the distance, Hunter disappears into the fog, haunted by what he witnessed—unsure if he’s truly safe from either monster.