On the deck Jason was fighting with a fury that he did not know that he had in him. Everything was a blur, and yet he could still focus. Still watch as people died, still feel himself killing. He could feel the adrenalin pumping through him, his blood singing in his veins until he almost regretted that the feeling would ever end. He knew that he was risking death as he fought, could feel the vague sting where others blades had caught him and knew also that he would feel pain once they stopped fighting, if he was still alive then. At that moment however, it didn’t matter. He felt his feet sliding on the bloodslicked deck and knew that one false move could mean his death, but that too seemed unlikely for some reason, as though it was an eventuality that had nothing really to do with him. For those moments he was invincible and nothing could touch him.