The park was eerily quiet, the moon casting long, ominous shadows on the ground. A figure emerged from the darkness, his clawed hand glinting menacingly under the pale moonlight. It was Freddy Krueger.

Simon Johnson, a naive teenager, sat alone on a park bench, oblivious to the lurking danger. He was engrossed in his phone, unaware of the malevolent figure approaching him.

Freddy approached Simon, his clawed hand scraping against the metallic bench. "Simon Johnson," he drawled, "Jason Voorhees is behind you."

Simon turned around, his heart thudding. A large, masked figure towered over him, machete gleaming in his hand. It was Jason Voorhees.

Before Simon could scream, Jason plunged the machete into him. Simon crumpled to the ground, life fleeing from his eyes.