14(Disclaimer: I Do not own the Friday the 13th and Nier:Automata Franchises, I am just a humble writer trying to figure all this confusing crap out so that I may actually provide you, the reader, with entertainment)
(P.S - I am just now starting out writing stories, so I'm trying to get all of this organizing right. I Will continuously update every chapter until I get a nice Format going, so please review if you have any criticism and suggestions for this crossover)
Bold & Italicized = Jason Thought ("Time To Get To Work")
Bold = Jason Speech ("You can't run. You can't Hide.")
Italicized = Regular Thought ("What...Who is this?!")
Regular = Regular Speech ("Ummm...Mr. Big and Scary, who are you?")
(Prologue - 1 year before the Beginning of Nier:Automata) I: Working To A Better Future
The Time was here, the time was now. Jason Voorhees now renowned. From Hell and Back he is feared and hated. Rocky floor covered with Demon Blood now Slated. From the lowest of lows and the highest of highs, all dies. No demon safe, from his Slashing Massacre. The one mistake they made, was dragging him down, now he wears Hell's Crown.
Hell. A place mortals are sent to pay penance for their evil deeds done in the world of the living.
Hell. Where all suffer in each other's searing pain.
Hell. No longer ruled by a false king, but strength and blood lust.
Hell. Where one name, one person, one unending harvest of death, The Maestro of Massacre reigns supreme.
Jason Voorhees was not a name you wished upon yourself.
Dragged to hell by those demons.
They had no idea what they had unleashed upon Hell's Realm.
From one crevice to another, one demon may scatter, scramble, and crawl.
All end up dead, blood lay splattered across the veins that make the walkways and the constructs.
His strength boasts no bounds.
His Silhouette from the horizon may next appear behind you.
He knows, where you hide, where you sob.
Time is of no indication of how long he has been here, one year here may be a simple day in the Overworld.
But if you must know the agonizingly long wait he has minded his time Slaying Hell's Inhabitants.
That number will be but 4,238,481(1) years of Complete Slaughter.
Trillions have lain halved and strewn from the bloody, scorched path he has paved.
The Time was here, the time was now.
Waiting for so long, we will be free from his fiery eyes and Vice-Grip.
Pure Red energy gathers all across Hell into one column that splits the clouded skies.
Everyone stilled in their thoughts and talk and tasks.
Eyes Glued to the surface where the epitome of Extermination, of Annihilation, of Destruction stood.
Every demon now understanding the meaning between the stoic figure and the Energy Gateway rejoiced.
Jason wanted to go home.
No one could stop him, though it was not like anyone tried.
He took a step forward into the Gate with a Gait of a man that knows he is the Apex of all predators.
The Red Glowing Gateway suddenly vanished, along with its traveler.
Before a second could pass...He was gone.
All of the troubles caused by one entity for so long was finally ridden of.
Hell never felt like such a paradise before
Black, Just...Plain Blackness, that was all that was visible for Jason.
Nothing else.
This just served the purpose of making Jason even more pissed, he wanted to go home, but he didn't want to end up buried again for the umpteenth time.
Of course, he has dealt with how to free himself of such situations.
With one hand after the other, he made what seemed like gigantic strokes as if he were taking a simple swim.
The black grainy substance brushing by his face, Jason continued to dig up, up, and up until the grain that was in his face started to regain color.
Continuing on and one full-hand scoop after another, he saw the break of light on the surface of the sand.
If one were for some reason standing out there directly staring at the area of the sand Jason had teleported under, then said person would see a disturbance in the sand, slowly turning to ripples and then ruptures until finally...
A Charred, Scarred hand
RAMMED
its way through. Flinging the surface sand flying in all directions. Red searing creases could be seen all across the hand, a sign of extreme wear and tear.
Without missing a beat, the red flowing trail of energy shot out of the ground, following the fist.
"KRAKL-THOOM!"
The energy continued up until it reached the clouds, and possibly farther.
The current condensation process was interrupted within the clouds that had touched the energy, evaporating it and gathering the steam within the energy.
As if it had consumed it.
The immediate atmosphere within the vicinity had turned a stark orange.
Constant swirling was the energy, as if someone were stirring a spoon in the middle.
This had gone on for several moments.
Then as if time stopped, the energy flow at ceased its movement.
Sand still skittering, and clouds still wavering, the only indication that time had in fact, not stopped, but instead, a phenomenon was taking place.
The red column in a quick succession of fluid motion,
SLAMMED
itself back into the ground.
The energy racking itself back in forth into the ground where the hand burst forth, like a worm trying to find ground to dig into, it snaked itself in.
What seemed like excess energy made swaths that swiped the area around the fist.
When a scarce moments passed, the world was seemingly back to normal, but clouds departed and sand displaced.
But of course, the hand that started the process was still there...
The balled fist lowered itself onto the ground as a second fist slowly making its way out of the ground, this one unraveling and angrily gripping the sand.
A figure started to emerge, the first thing that was visible as it started to rise from the sand was it's face...it's Mask.
Pure Black Sheen covered the Main Body. Three prominent indention scars were in plain view to the world from the Mask's top left down to its bottom right. A red arrow between the tops of the Eye sockets. Fiery, Red, furious eyes burned and gleamed through. A sizable portion of the bottom left was missing, as if were torn off. What looked like flayed skin lay in its place. The mouth that could be seen could hardly be declared a mouth in the first place. Strings of boiled skin could be seen strapping themselves from the top and bottom lips.
Black burnt chains wrapped around its neck and travelling down its torso.
Spikes of bone were jutting out of it's whole left shoulder, the seared, flayed skin complimented its horrific look of pure agony.
A light gray-black jacket, pants with the same gradient color, and a black belt was its choice of apparel, rising up steadily to its feet, finally free from its complete entombment.
Finally, on a strap on the side of his left leg, a black menacing Machete with a red outline around the tip of the blade.
In all, the figure was definitely male, impossibly buff looking, ominous as all hell and has an overall oppressive aura
To put it frankly he looks like Satan, or the person that unceremoniously threw Satan off his Unholy thrown and took a seat while simultaneously torturing him.
You clearly wouldn't want to mess with whatever this man was, no telling what you might end up looking like.
(POV Jason)
Currently standing in the middle of what could only be described as a desert wasteland. Jason simply stood, stoic as ever, and stared.
"So, this is earth, nearly ten millennia from then?"(2) he thought to himself.
"Hmph...Funny, I'm the oldest thing to ever walk the earth now," it was truly funny, to have an over-world age of over 10,000.
His age of existence shadows the said mere 10,000 by enormous amounts.
Under his many years in hell, Jason had gained full knowledge of the world, the time passed, it's agriculture, it's many geographical layouts, the buildings across the many countries, religions, war, evil, grace, love, hate, and had even become a scholar of sorts of Human Psychology.(3) You know, just in case he needed to make an idiot suffer more if he wanted to really put the fear into them.
He would often create transparent portals to look through and to see how his world was doing, he was disappointed
Surveying the area, he saw many dunes, as far as the eye could see.
Suddenly, a glimmer caught light in the corner of his vision.
Interesting, it seemed, it was quite a cliche to have something that could cause a reflection to end up in a desert.
Jason made his trek to the source of the shine.
His head straight forward staring ahead of himself, not bothering to take in his surroundings, consciously activating his internal ability(3), mapping out near millions of miles worth of sand, grass, water, sea, ocean, metal, organic lifeforms...many different lifeforms he had not seen in person before, but he knows what had changed.
He used to only have this ability specifically in Camp Crystal Lake, where his home and domain was, but again, as all things go with being irradiated in Hell energy, it's borders were expanded to incomprehensible limits. Jason didn't care at first, but had come to appreciate it, it had helped him many times in finding the sneaky hellions and "Big Bosses" that had nearly slipped away.
Continuing on with the walk, Jason had arrived at the shiny object's location, it was what he thought it was.
A lens, or more specifically, the lens of a round spherical metal part. It was a destroyed machine.
Not like one of those car lenses, or a light source. No, it was one of the things he had learned of in Hell, bidding his time.
It was the one of the Machines that a race of Aliens had unleashed upon earth, destroying a vast majority of the world's population.
Of course, the remnants of humanity had "Fled to the moon"
A lie, he knew...it was all a lie.
As a being that practically knew all and acted upon his own intuition, instinct and insight, Jason hated lies.
Lies had hurt him many times before.
One simple lie had led to his human-self being killed.
He wouldn't go back to being his simple-minded past time self.
If he was going to be part of this world once more, he would have to do something he thought he would have never done before.
He would have to HELP, the innocent.
Jason from the beginning was not evil, but misguided, now knowing right from wrong, he saw that the good route would help more in the future rather than being another enemy to a force that constantly fights a false war.
Fourteen wars to be exact, all of them pointless.
He would start from the bottom and work his way up to the tippity top if he had to, using brute force, mystical powers, or...Conjointly...with the inflicted themselves.
He would have to untie and rearrange the strings of the knot the Mastermind had pulled, a mess he would have to unravel.
Yes, what better place to start than the afflicted, the afflicted that does not know its own pain, the afflicted that does not know that their efforts are without meaning, that they were protecting something that simply was not there.
The Inflicted, The Androids...they are the most deceived...he would start there.
But first, he would observe, coming into play at the most opportune time.
Using the now known knowledge of the rough terrain, the dust that continuously travels the ground of the desert had kicked up and surrounded Jason in a mist-like veil.
"There is Much Work To Be Done"
The dust settles back down...no Jason in sight.
Much Work Indeed
This is NOT a One Shot!
A Beta reader would be nice, please do write a review and PM me if you are interested.
(Author's Note: I plan on making my stories at least 2,000 words and updating every other day.)
(Right now, I am watching a complete walk-through of Nier:Automata and completely expect myself to become a fan soon enough, the only thing I know about it, is the depressing endings. So without further a-do, good-bye~! Thank you for your patience!)
(1): This is the actual calculated time that has passed between 1993's "Jason gets sent to hell" and Nier:Automata's Timeline (11945 A.D)
(2): Jason is no longer a dimwitted murder, he wasn't even smart enough to be considered a psychopath. But, with enough time and concentration, Jason has achieved nigh-genius level intelligence, and can be seen to be quite philosophical at times. Seriously, think about it, if you were to wander around, trapped in a realm with nothing to do for millions of years but simply slaughter, you're going to want to do something else. In Jason's case, after maybe...a few million deaths recorded by his many weapons, he would summon books to read, and study sources. It is quite boring in hell.
(3): The Hell that Jason was sent to is basically constantly overflowing with what can only be described with the Energy of Evil/Death, in other words, Hell Energy. Jason has always been Death Incarnate, so when he first made contact with the broiling hot air of Hell, he immediately began siphoning the Energy out of its system. Now Jason, over Millions of years of said siphoning activity, is basically an entity that holds so much power that he is now considered the Holder of Hell's Crown, the Executioner of Eternity, Immortalized Imperil of Hell. Now fit with abilities never displayed nor discovered in Hell or the Over-world, Jason holds the fate of whatever he wishes in his hands, any ability he may have had before, has now been exponentially increased.
All in all: Jason is Immortal, Cannot be stunned, is completely OP, and know a lot'a stuff.
[!]
Now Known powers:
{Passive Knowledge} basically allows him complete knowledge of current events happening in the world, as well as allowing him to remember everything he has heard, seen, learned of. [He does NOT know future events, thus why he observes and gathers intelligence before acting.]
{Passive Mapping} allows Jason to internally map out the rough sketch of anything in a broad limit of about the size of both Russia and the United States put together(Approximately 26,933,286.355 Square Kilometers), all mapped from both a bird's eye view and as if he were everywhere and nowhere all at once.
{Infinite Hell energy} The energy of infinite possibilities all stuffed into one Entity. Only time will tell what it may unleash upon the world. Cool entrances included!