Bitter night air rested upon the abandoned scrapyard, one both survivor and killer had seen a dozen times before. The Wraith stalked the bordered grounds suspecting a survivor had burned an offering, making the fog thicker under the darkened moonlight. Grass swayed as the inhuman man walked, only a shimmer in the natural light giving his form away.
Mechanical sounds echoed near by, a dead generator being worked back to life by a poor unfortunate soul. As the invisible creature approached silently he observed the unlucky survivor, one he knew had witnessed the death of another earlier that night. He knew because he had chased her down when she attempted to save them. He injured her, only to lose the trail moments after. The pink jacket against her pale skin was covered in blood. Her body tensed as the Wraith's bell rung behind her.
His bell always rung when he cloaked himself and once again when he wished to appear, ready to take souls to sacrifice. Well normally he would sacrifice them, to appease the entity forcing them into this never ending cycle of death and torture. He would if they hadn't pushed him to the boiling point of his anger. Two of the survivors that had the misfortune of being stuck on his territory had been killed, leaving another two left. The entity favored the number four as the nightly victim count. These particular survivors liked to taunt him, making him play a cruel game of ring-around-the-rosy or staying hidden with no attempt at progress. He was going to make them wish they could die.
The pink jacketed girl ran from the scene, footsteps just slow enough for the Wraith to catch up to her. Blood splattered onto the polluted soil when his skull staff came down upon her. Bones cracked under his forceful swing, knocking her down to the ground. She could do no more than crawl pitifully, a chance he would take to hang her off a hook. An action that would give her a sliver of hope that she could be saved, another chance to escape. It would be if his rage hadn't consumed him, prompting him to beat her down further. The life was snuffed out of her as her broken and bruised body lay limp from the repeated smashing of his weapon.
And then there was one.
Before he left the dead to lay a light flickered, catching his attention. His first thought was busted flashlight, the pesky prey seemed to love blinding him with those cursed things. This light however was different, it shined blue and blinked in a consistent pattern.
Curious, he inspected it. The light's source was an object half way dropping from the girl's pocket. It was a black slim device, fitting easily in his hand. No faded memories from his past life could explain the object he held, but he did know buttons. The only one he found was at the bottom. He pressed it and watched the device spring to life. He squinted, not expecting the sudden light. The screen showed a view of a mountain side, sunset painting everything orange. The time showed midnight at the top, something that would never change here.
As someone who relied on stealth as he did one would take time to learn what they could of their enemy. Some had keen eyes and would dash away well others sat oblivious. Some who had reunited with their fellow survivor took to whispered conversations. The Wraith found he enjoyed ease dropping on said conversations, learning things that his past life never had. From something called 'Wi-Fi' to 'smartphones'. From their descriptions this device he held appeared to be one said smartphone.
What caught his eye most was a bar under the time, a white one across with writing. A yellow box with a white ghost sat beside the words "New Snapchat: Jake". There was no possible way these survivors should be able to contact the outside world. Was the entity messing with them? He never fully understood the force that kept him here to torment, he just did his part. He saw no other buttons, what sort of contraption had only one button? There had to be a way to look at this. He was not going to be outsmarted by a dead girl's phone.
He discovered the second on/off switch and some sort of volume control but nothing else. Maybe you could touch it? At this point the Wraith was sitting like a child beside the broken dead body. Completely devoted to understanding the new electronic in his possession. His wrath had calmed, replaced with annoyance and curiosity. It wasn't every night he found something completely new like this, as difficult as it was to figure out.
His dark slender finger poked the box, not expecting for it to give any response. If he could show any sign of surprise now would be the perfect time as the screen moved from the action. The box grew larger as the wallpaper behind it blurred. Now what in the world did he do? He was making progress, he thinks. Now what? He tried tapping it again only for it to return to it's previous position. Alright now that was the opposite of what he wanted. Once he tapped the box he tried pressing the bottom button. That didn't work either.
He continued to fiddle with the phone, making gargle like noises in response to failure. Eventually he got the response he assumed he wanted when he swiped his finger across the screen. Everything changed to a new look, a white one with various names and coloured boxes. All the boxes were just outlines around more white, aside from the top one. There was that name again, 'Jake'. He tapped the name and was greeted with a picture. A survivor's face showed on the screen, cut off just below their eyes as the rest of the picture showed the environment behind him. He saw the familiar wall keeping them trapped together, the night sky just behind it. So the last thorn in his side was hiding along the walls.
Jake had a knack for staying calmer than the others he encountered, maybe it was the iron will he prided himself on having. It could also be the anger and spite harboring in him, his best friend growing up curtesy of his father. If he ever managed to escape this hellhole permanently he'd have to thank him for once in his life. Anxiety lay in his chest, like an annoying fat cat he ignored. He was always more of a dog person. He sat cross-legged in the tall grass, sitting behind bits of scrapyard wall. His nose was numb to the scent of decay and death, part of his every day life night after night. His face lay in the palm of his hand, propped up with his elbow. Take away the context of being trapped with a mass murder a glace at him would suggest bored youth in a waiting room.
He had awoken near the large doors, taunting him with the possibility of escape if he could get generators. He followed along the wall, leaving them behind until he found a corner that was as cozy as a scrapyard could be. Now here he was back in that spot, he'd grabbed a total of two generators in between waking and now. The sound of sacrifice had spread through the air twice by now, Meg informed him of the who over phone. It was a miracle that their phones worked in this dimension. It was possible the entity wanted to see what would happen if survivors could communicate, as those trapped here were the only ones he could contact.
He lay in wait for Meg to find him, having agreed to meet up after she finished her generator. The Anxiety grew in him as time ticked on, the lack of sacrificial noises reassured him but the many other possibilities of what could be happening did nothing to help. There was no generator activation in the distance, no alerts of any kind. Only oppressive ambience laced the night air. There were no typical sounds of nature, no animals existed here alive and nature itself seemed twisted by the foul deeds committed upon it. He was left alone with silence, his thoughts and a heartbeat. The beating of not his own heart but that of his seekers, the closer one was to the killer the louder the killer's heartbeat became. The entity's odd way of giving warning to it's victims.
If he could hear the Wraith's heart, that meant he was uncloaked. The killer only uncloaked when it came time to chase a survivor, was Meg found? He tensed, listening for the sound of footsteps and the slamming of wood to block the Wraith's path. No such sounds came, only the increased volume of a heart both the Wraith's and his own. Grass shifted nearby, coming dangerously close to his location. He slowly changed positions, getting ready to run if spotted. He learned that running without knowing if he was seen could make what would have been a close call into a full on chase. He waited, body tense as he watched his surroundings. He crouched as still as possible, breath held as the familiar red light came into view. That ominous red light that lay directly in front of these beasts, alerting survivors to how close they truly were.
The Wraith creeped forward coming fully into view, looking at the wall in front of them both. Jake watched uneasy, confused by the creature's behavior. Did they know he was there? Why weren't they chasing him or moving on to continue searching? Hearing the Wraith speak was the last thing he expected, Jake suspected they may not even have the ability to speak. All he ever he heard were gurgles and grunts from it.
"Jake"
It sat on him for a brief moment, processing both the fact they did speak and knew his name on top of that. The Wraith knowing his name unnerved him greatly. He stood slowly, sure to make no sudden movements. His eyes never left the Wraith's back, cautiously staring at him. Silence settled between them again, neither moved to run or attack. The Wraith's head turned, looking over it's shoulder at Jake with it's glowing eyes.
"I've been hunting you..." The Wraith's demented voice trailed off.
Jake jumped as the Wraith twisted around unexpectedly, facing him head on. Jake had to fight his natural impulse to run, wanting more to stay in curiosity than flee in terror. The Wraith stood inches away, leaned over to lock eyes with him. The sudden increase of volume and anger in it's voice startled Jake as it began lecturing him.
"...AND YOU'RE ON YOUR PHONE!?"