Thick fog surrounded the alert blond, an eerie foreboding atmosphere hung lose in the air. Anxiety gripped her chest, instincts nagging a higher emphasis to lay low and keep hidden. Luckily, Meg knew how to be both swift and silent, getting around fast without attracting the killer's attention.
The faded rosewood hued barn surrounded her, it's tattered walls threatening to collapse around her if hit by any strong wind, one that would never come within this land. Only a mild breeze blew against her exposed arms, helping to combat the sticky heat spread across the farm. This climate was one Meg preferred, compared to the chill of others.
Immediately after awaking she left the building, moving through the clutter of twisted trees and overgrown grass towards another corner of the map. Her ears stained to hear any sort of clue as to who she may be facing, no traps upon the ground that she could see, no chainsaw roaring into the night nor the dreadful chime of a bell.
A distant generator caught her eye, the pistons unmoving as it sat almost blending into the scenery. She was starting this one from scratch. A screech broke the silence as she approached, confirming her opponent's identity. Despite this, everything still hung within the uncertainty period, the killers hunting style and entity's survivor choice remained unknown.
The pistons struggled to move, some pounding faster than others as a shriek rang out from the other side of the map. Meg felt her muscles tense at the sound, recognizing immediately whose voice it belonged to. Her heart sank, mind still trying to concentrate on the wires at her fingers as she waited, listening for another wail, something to pin point her location.
Nothing came, silence followed moments of eager anticipation. Only the generator near complete and the ambience of the land. The usual stain of rancid death and decay floating unpleasantly around, but nothing else came, as if she had never been struck. They must be baiting, waiting nearby a helpless soul for another to aid them only to strike the altruistic survivor as they neared their fallen comrade. With that thought arose an anger within Meg, she hated when the killers pulled that shit.
As the generator came to life she continued her way, following along the edge of the wall, making sure her steps stayed as hushed as she could afford well keeping a steady pace, not like it was hard. Another, smaller, building came into view, it's walls even more withered than the barn by far. The structure was familiar, holding either a basement, generator, or neither within every location regardless of theme. The group had decided to call it the "killer shack", making differentiating easier.
A light sigh escaped her lips as she approached it, feeling torn between helping her fellow teammate and getting progression towards escape. If it weren't for the sense of danger gripping her chest she would have sprinted over there to help already, being at least able to act as distraction if the Nurse had been baiting. But that feeling that haunted her, that gut retching sensation that something was wrong, she couldn't shake it and that disturbed her enough to restrict her choices.
Another cry rang out, a different voice more masculine in nature, closer to her position. She pulled back from the machine, creeping closer to the door, straining to hear for any signs that might aid her. No screams of agony, no generators popping, only the familiar mix of sounds that had been accompanying her thus far. Maybe the nurse was off her game, trying to pull the slug method of downing everyone only to fail horribly. If one was running interference well another healed, that would explain the lack of generators.
With that thought she returned to her work, playing the part of engineer so they could all escape together. It didn't take long before it forced itself alive, all the interior parts correctly assigned, marking the second generator to be sounded. That fact within itself unnerved her, part of her wished for another survivor to at least come sprinting past, give her a sense of teamwork. She felt her gut forcing the wishes away, chalking it up towards survival instincts she left the shack.
Ominous dread laid across her surroundings as if trying to smother her, she clenched her fists as she paced herself. Another scream startled her, jumping slightly before quickly recomposing herself. Annoyance crept in, mental retribution towards her loss of composure.
Unbeknownst to her the faceless creature stalked through the corn, the crops swaying away from her presence as if trying to flee from the radiating fury coming from the figure. Fingers twitching in anticipation as she held the lowly man's breath in her hand, ready to pounce once she found her prey. The urge to cleanse ripe within her.
Meg felt the cold metallic covering of her third generator, it's pumps barely moving as she stood by it. Thoughts processing as she stood with her hand still pressed against the machine. The second scream had been Jake; the iron willed one, well the last had been Dwight; the lead man. Surely, she could run into the fray and swap places with Jake, the one more qualified to fix well she took distraction. If they were even still in need of one.
Her choice was made as she moved carefully towards the barn, scanning the area for any signs of life. As her eyes moved across the field her foot knocked against something. Expecting a piece of the environment she looked down instinctively, a harsh gasp escaped her lips as her widened eyes met those of Claudette's. The young woman's own blank and lifeless as her limp body laid at Meg's feet.
Taking a step back she covered her mouth that lay agape with a shaking hand. She had heard mentions of ruthless murder from the killers, doing away with sacrificing on the hooks to take the life of another then and there. Her eyes burned as she refused to let any tears spill, taking in a deep breath to steady herself. Death was nothing new here, not for her, but this….
She bent down, hand brushing against the girl's cheek as she looked over her body. Deep bruises shaped akin to handprints covered her neck. So, the nurse liked it up close and personal, that was not up her alley, that's for sure. With one pained final look towards her fellow survivor she left, having gathered enough information of what she now had to dodge. If the others had shared the same fate, then her only valuable option was the hatch.
Keeping as much distance as she could manage she walked the perimeter of the building, senses now on high alert for any form of movement to cross her path. A chill ran down her spine as the familiar white clothed being emerged from the entranceway as she passed by, hand raised ready to teleport and strike.
As her shriek filled the air Meg juked around the white streak as she passed, sprinting in a similar direction from wince she came to throw her off. Another of her shrill cries escaped her throat as she charged forward, hot on her trail as she weaved through various environmental covers, she prayed the nurse would miss and strike the bales of hay instead of her.
Ducking into the field of corn she continued to run at a slower speed, lacking the energy to continue her previous pace. The heartbeat pounding in her ear as a constant reminder of the imminent fate closing in on her. The sound of the Nurse teleporting heightened the thump, unable to see the figure as the bone saw dug into her flesh.
An outcry of agony escaped her lips as she felt a rush of blood flow from her body, dizziness overcoming thoughts as her adrenaline gave her a small boost. Visions of her teammates came to her, remembrance of their cries and coming to believe they had been alright, completely unaware of their bodies scattered across the grounds. The pain they had experienced, fighting against an unstoppable force as their lives were snuffed out personally, only seeing the covered face of their murder before awaking back at the campfire with new scars.
Meg balled her fists as she shook her head, trying to clear it before she met the same outcome. Her arm wrapped around her in a frail attempt to stop the bleeding. The smell of rotten corpses was overwhelming as she passed the great tree, long dead cows hung like demented Christmas ornaments, their inner organs exposed and barely held in place by their bones.
She swatted the corn as she pushed through, moving back into the farming equipment covers. A low howl caught her attention, hope sparked in her chest as escape became a possibility. With the beating gaining on her she rounded various corners, moving through trees and hay bales, feeling the air behind her split as the bone saw missed her by inches.
The sounds of the hatch grew louder, hand gripping the hay as she rounded another corner, nearly falling into the hole within the ground. She caught her footing just in time, pushing off the group as she jumped into the darkness, letting it engulf her as she heard the hinges creak shut.
Her rapid breathing the only thing left to accompany her in the void, rough terrain underneath as she began crawling in a random direction. Her arms and knees scraped against the ground, she bit her lip to keep the moans down out of habit. Faint light greeted her as she continued to crawl, emerging into the familiar woods shadowed by the glow of the campfire.
Familiar faces lined around it, one of which had experienced the prior match with her. With her new found recovered body she sprinted forward, tackling the soft botanist as she sat hunched on the log. A faint smile spread across Claudette's face as she realized whom now held her in a death grip. Frantic hands held her cheeks, briefly checking her neck for any marks only to find it perfectly fine.
Meg buried her face into the woman's shoulder, holding her close again wordlessly. She returned the embrace, rubbing her back as she enjoyed the comfort from the blond, listening to the crackling of the fire as they enjoyed the moment of rest and recovery.
Claudette's mind faintly distracted by the feeling laying in the pit of her stomach, knowing full well this would not be the last time she would encounter such a thing. Old Latin lessons resurfaced in her thoughts, her faint period of interest in the language coming back to her as a phrase repeated itself:
Memento Mori
AN: Guess who's writing more fics based off of actual SWF matches? This gal! The one this was based off is actually on youtube if you look for it- (I even mention making it a fic in the video which is the funny thing to me). The Meg friend is the one who both uploaded the video and encouraged me to write this, go hunting for the Corvid.