There is a vast monster of a man with a hideous grin torn across the mask that keeps stalking my every move. Similar to a hunter, he tracks us, priming devastating traps amongst the greenery. Extreme vigilance and a light step is essential in avoiding the blood curdling clench of a bear trap or the clutches of what I've taken to calling "the miserable smiling killer".

I have but many times managed to get caught in one of these traps. I have nothing but fear for the feeling of blunt trap spikes grinding against my bones or for the heavy deliberate footsteps which always reveal a plastered, sadistic grin.

With the traps and the trapper, so far it has been a constant battle of looking up and looking down.

-Benedict Baker on the Trapper

Chaperone 2: The Smiling Man

Meg Thomas always liked to consider herself a good runner. It had warranted plenty of attention and praise back in high school track. Now, her skills were the only thing that kept her out of the reach of the killer that had killed her fellow survivors.

She heard their screams as they were hooked, one by one. She helped them down a few times, but the giant man called the Trapper, had eventually caught them again.

She was currently huddled behind the massive tree in the center of the forest. Her ragged breath escaping her lips. She grimaced slightly as pain shot through her left arm. A swing of the Killer's blade had created a deep gash in her flesh. It wasn't serious, but it was painful.

Alright, the gates are still closed and no way am I going to be able to fix the generators. That only leaves the hatch. Now where would it…

SNAP!

Meg froze, the sound of a stick snapping was close, too close. The Trapper was never a quiet man. Peeking around the tree, Meg saw a man there. He was tall, only an inch or two shorter than the trapper, and was wearing the most intimidating armor she had ever seen. And his red gaze was looking right at her.

Her heart was pounding and her legs were soar. She knew she couldn't get far, so she closed her eyes and waited for her next death. Her only hope was that this one would finally kill her permanently.

Yet it never came.

Opening her eyes, she saw that he was much closer, only an arms length away. He gazed down at her. She could see his fingers twitch every now and then, but otherwise he did nothing. She could only wonder fearfully what it planned to do to her.

…

Six…really had no idea what to do.

The girl was obviously scared. Her ginger hair in braids were matted, her clothes muddied and had a nasty gash on her arm. She also seemed to expect Six to hurt her based on the way she looked at him. And if there was one thing Six was horrible at, it was comforting someone.

It also didn't help that the voice was back.

"She's helpless. Unarmed. Vulnerable. Her life is yours to take."

Fuck off.

"I know what you want. I know what you hunger for, what you lust for, what you desire."

You don't know anything about me.

"You hunger for bloodshed. You lust for violence. You desire carnage."

No I don't!

Even as he thought that, an image of the girl hanging from a meat hook flashed before his eyes. For a moment, he enjoyed watching her writhe in her misery. He promptly squashed that feeling and replaced it with disgust.

"I can give you all that for eternity. Simply hunt your prey, and sacrifice them to me."

Why the hell would I do that!? She's scared, hurt, weak,…helpless…cornered…so easily broken…and ready to be slaught-THE HELL AM I THINKING!?

Six slapped himself to dispel those unwanted thoughts, much to Meg's surprise.

Fuck you! I'm not going to kill her.

"Then my other servant will."

Wait, other?

The sound of heavy footfalls caught his and Meg's attention, which only added too the girls terror.

Standing a few yards away was a big man, maybe an inch taller than Six, with a very stocky build. His skin looked cracked and covered in a fine layer of soot. The only clothes he wore was some dark overalls, which seemed to be held up by a pair of hooks stabbed into his back. There also seemed to be what looked like railroad spikes jabbed in his right arm, which was holding a weapon that looked like the bastard child of a machete and a cleaver. The most eye catching part about him was that his head was mostly covered by a white mask that was cracked and stylized to look like a sadistically smiling skull, sharp pointy teeth included.

For the longest time, they just stared each other down while sizing the other up. Neither knew what to make of the other. One a nightmarish butcher hunting his prey, the other a battle hardened killer who had no idea what was going on.

The beast, known to the survivors of this realm simply as The Trapper, didn't know, nor cared where the armored man came from. Only that he place the girl on one of the many hooks and let his master consume a part of her soul. This new being wasn't like the others, so unless his master ordered him to kill the man, he would leave the stranger be.

Walking towards the pair, the Trapper raised his weapon into the air, and with a powerful swing, brought the blade down to finally subdue his prey.

To his surprise, his strike was stopped by a smaller blade. It was charred and chipped, but the metal still held strong. Glancing up, the armored man was the one grasping the blade, and even if he was wearing a mask, the Trapper could see that he was angry.

Six gave a growl before shoving the blades away, the friction of the metals created sparks and ignited his blade. Stepping back, he put some distance between himself and the masked man. Glancing back to the girl, he saw her panting in fear and her eyes were wide. Yet there was obvious confusion as well. Six looked into her eyes, and motioned his head for her to leave.

Her jaw dropped at the notion that this, thing, was helping here get away. Her logical side questioned if it was a trick, however her pragmatic side leapt at the chance of escape. She was running before she could even second guess her decision.

Turning back to his opponent, he raised his blade just in time to block a vicious strike. The power behind it was enough to stagger him, which was saying something considering he had blocked blows from super mutants.

Recovering, Six retaliated with low swing and the masked man barely stepped back in time to avoid serious damage, though a shallow cut appeared on his leg. Yet Six was far from done.

Swing after swing of his flaming blade cut and burnt flesh, though a few strikes his opponent managed to block. The cleaver wielding man now sported a few gashes and burns across his torso and a large gaping one on his right shoulder. Much to his annoyance, the man didn't seem bothered by it.

Ducking a strike from the cleaver, Six tried to step back but a grimy and powerful hand grasps at his throat. He was lifted off his feet rather easily, much to Six's surprise.

Suspended in mid air and slowly losing oxygen, rather than panic, Six reversed the grip on his and brought the business end of the blade down.

The blade split the flesh as it worked it's way through his left bicep. The smiling masked man gave a roar of pain as he involuntarily let go of Six.

Not letting an opening go to waste, Six threw a hard punch at the man's head, then another, and another. Each fist hitting with the force of a sledgehammer and eliciting a painful grunt with every blow. Pulling back his fist, he delivered one last powerful strike that sent the man stumbling backwards.

Catching his breath, Six watched as the man stood back up, though much slower. The man planted the tip of his weapon in the ground, and using his now free hand, grasped the handle of the flaming blade and pulled it out of his arm. Even as the metal was removed, Six could see the damage was done. The flesh was boiled and all but slopping off and the muscle was ruined beyond use.

The man growled as he held up and looked at the weapon that had harmed him. With a powerful swing, he sent Gehenna flying in a random direction. He turned back to Sx and even though his eyes were shrouded in the darkness of his mask, he could feel the unbridled hate as the Trapper looked at him.

"Come on Smiley, there's more where that came from." Six said in a challenging tone.

Taking the bait, 'Smiley' came forward, much faster than a man his size should be able to walk. His weapon came down and Six stepped back out of its deadly arc. Undeterred, the man immediately swung side ways and Six ducked the blow.

Seeing an opening, he sent a powerful jab at the wounded bicep, getting a grunt in response. However, Six wasn't expecting the backswing. The blunt side of the vicious blade struck his chest and though his armor blocked most of the damage, it still knocked the wind out of him and sent him flying.

Landing on his back a few yards away, he rolled to the side on instinct. That same instinct prevented him from losing his head as the cleaver was buried into the ground where his neck was a moment ago.

Jumping to his feet Six, looked off in the direction he had seen his weapon fly. Spotting a light on the ground in the distance, he made a break for it.

Alright, only using fisticuffs won't work. The guy's too strong for that, even with only one arm. Not in a situation to warrant ALSD either, I need to find Gehenna.

Running through the grass, he drew closer to the light of his weapon. He was five yards away when he passed by some sort of stand with a meat hook, one the perfect size for a human. Unfortunately, it was then that he felt the teeth of a bear trap close on his left leg. His momentum carried him forward and he came crashing down to the ground.

"Oh son of a bitch!" He cried out. "Why is that even here?!"

Suddenly he heard the rhythm of heavy footfalls as he lay there. With a sigh, flipped himself over to look up at the skull like mask. "So Chuckles, what's your deal with bear traps? I mean I'm not one to judge with kinks, but seriously?"

He said nothing as he brought his cleaver down on the prone courier.

In an effort to save himself, Six threw up his arms in defense. As the weapons edge struck Six's left arm, the vicious weapon stopped dead as it hit the hardened metal of the Pipboy.

The man turned his head in confusion while Six gave a bark of laughter. "Hah! Nice try jackass!"

Reaching for the pipboy, he pushed a button and suddenly a broad machete appeared in his right hand with a flash of light. Not wasting time, he swung at the killer's left leg. The worn but deadly blade bit into the smiling man's leg muscle, and with a growl he fell down as his leg gave out.

Atomizing the machete, Six reached down and pried open the bear trap and pulled his leg free. Getting up, he ran over to Gehenna and was about to charge the downed beast when an idea came to him. One that made him smile.

Recovering from his now wounded leg, the masked man stood in time to see his opponent sheath his blade and reach for his strange gauntlet again.

"Alright big guy, how about we have some fun?" Just like when he pulled the machete out of nowhere, a light appeared, this time covering his right forearm. When the light disappeared, Six now had a strange weapon on his fist. The base was a worn leather glove with rope wrapped around it. The ropes also held bear trapped in place. The teeth pulled back further than they should have been and a pressure plate was placed right in front of his knuckles. It was an odd, but nasty looking weapon. "Any last words."

"D-d-d-d-d" slowly, as if he was struggling to use his voice after years of disuse. "d-d-DIE!"

With speed one wouldn't expect of a man his size, he ran at Six in attempt to kill the man who would dare stand against him, and in turn stand against his master.

Unfazed by the charging behemoth, Six ducked the blow. In retaliation, he sent a powerful upper cut into the man's arm. The force jarred his arm enough that he was forced to let go of his weapon, but it was a the steel teeth that did the real damage. Even as the bear trap closed around the flesh, Six didn't stop. He pulled the arm down and sent a punch into the masked face with his left fist. The white mask cracked under the blow and just as he was reeling back, Six threw his steel incased head forward.

Helmet struck mask, and the killer fell backwards, only barely keeping himself on his feet. Six pulled his arm back, the bear trap resetting itself, he crouched down and spun with his leg extended. In one fluid movement, he swept his adversary's legs out from under him. As he hit the ground, Six was upon him.

The killer attempted to kick out at the armored man, only to have his foot locked in the teeth of Six's weapon. Not missing a beat, Six brought his foot down on the man's sternum, eliciting a sickening crack. Then he kicked him again and again until he was satisfied.

Releasing the trap, he let go of the leg and atomized the bear trap fist. Stealing his heart beat, (well heart pump really) he leaned over the killer who had not moved a muscle.

"Hey buddy, are you dead yet?" Six asked with a hint mirth in his voice.

His response was a powerful right hook to the cheek. Six reeled his head back but did not stumble. When he turned his gaze back to the killer, one could almost swear his red glow of his optics intensified.

"All right, playtime's over chuckles." Six's voice had lost all emotion except for a slight undertone of pure malice. He pulled Gehenna once more and reignited the blade.

Holding the handle in a reverse grip, he held the business end of the end so it threaten to impale the masked man. The killer tried to raise his working arm in defense only to have it pinned under a combat boot.

"Time for you to burn." Six said, and with those words, he brought the blade down.

…

Meg ran and ran. Even as her legs burned and her muscles screamed for her to stop, she kept on running. She could hear the sounds of fighting in the distance.

It confused her to no end on why the Trapper and that armored…man would be fighting. He certainly had the look and feel of one of those monsters that had constantly hunted and killed her many times. Yet he had leapt to her defense.

Why? Why would he do that? It makes no damn sense! Uh, doesn't matter now. All I need is to find the-there it is!

In the middle of the forest floor was a rusted iron door. Though it's true name was the Black Lock, everyone just called it what it was, the escape hatch. Meg knew the whole reason why it existed was to create more hope for the Entity to feast on, but damn it all if she wasn't going take a chance at escaping this trial.

With strength fueled by desperation, she threw open the hatch, revealing the inky blackness inside. It seemed to lead to nowhere, yet Meg knew it would lead her back to the bonfire where the others were no doubt waiting for here. That never stopped the nervousness that formed in her stomach each time she jumped in to the darkness.

She spared one last glance over her shoulder. She could vaguely make out two tall silhouettes through the mist, seemingly fighting. Suddenly, one seemed to gain the advantage and laid down a rather nasty beat down. Suddenly, a light appeared in the darkness, and Meg could just barely make out the armored man standing over the Trapper with that weird fire sword of his hand.

However she realized that she had been staying there watching rather than escaping. Turning back to her salvation, she took a breath and jumped. She may have been confused, but she couldn't help but smirk at the thought of the Trapper being the one hunted for once. With that last thought, she vanished into the dark.

…

Six brought Gehenna down, his rage increasing his strength as he drove the sabre down. Yet in the blink of an eye, the fog appeared once more. It surrounded and enveloped him. He couldn't see even an foot in front of him.

Yet as sudden as the fog arrived, it dissipated just as fast. Gehenna continued downwards, yet rather than being embedding in flesh, it instead a foot of the blade was buried in sand.

It took Six a moment to realize what had happened. He was somewhere else and his prey was gone. When he came to that conclusion, Six calmly accepted his misfortune in a controlled manner that showed great restraint and demonstrated unparalleled control of his emotions.

"MOTHER FUCKING SON OF A NEW RENO WHORE! WHAT THE HELL JUST FUCKING HAPPENED!?"

Kicking the sand in frustration as he threw his tantrum, he didn't even notice his surroundings. That is until he accidentally kicked a rather heavy chunk of stone.

Grasping his foot, he started hopping around on one foot as he let loose a string of curse words that would make even Cass blush.

"WHO WOULD PUT THAT…rock…there?" Six's voice grew quiet he as finally saw where he was.

The first thing he noticed was that this place was cast in an amber light much like how the forest was cast in a dark blue. Unlike the forest however, there wasn't a living tree in sight. All around him were the remains of what was once a city, now nothing more than sun bleached ruins. Entire buildings were toppled over, the wreckage of cars and trucks were strewn about and the ground was nothing but dirt and sand. Even though it was night, sandstorms could still be seen high in the air.

"Is this…Hopeville?" He said in disbelief. He couldn't understand how he could be back in the Divide. But even as he thought that, he realized something was wrong. The pallets and generators were there. And he could also see in the distance was a hook. This one seemed to be made out of wrought iron and if there was any paint, it had been stripped of by blowing sand long ago. And just like the forest, the strange fog encompassed the area and something about the moon felt wrong.

"This isn't the divide."

"This is your home."

Six gave a frustrated sigh. "Oh great, I was hoping you were gone."

"This is my creation, you will never be rid of me."

Six was silent as he looked at the strange land that mimicked the divide. He reached up to his helmet and d took it off with a his. Clipping it to his side, he ran his hand through hair to smooth it down. The silence lasted for a full minute until he decided to ask about what had been on his mind for a bit.

"Are you the Nameless One? The one the village used to pray to?"

"I am."

Six let out a breath he didn't know he was holding. He expected that answer, but it didn't lessen the shock that the deity that his village used to worship was in fact real. He himself had stopped believing in that cult nonsense when he took a couple bullets to the skull, which he had considered a blessing in disguise.

"Alright, why take me to…wherever we are? I mean why not take me a few years ago, I mean now I couldn't care less about you now, so what gives?"

"Your realm is…bitter. Your ancestors poisoned everything and now only one has true influence there. And Ug-Qualtoth is…territorial."

To Six, the 'voice' seemed to sound almost bitter as it said that name and the clicking sounds intensified. Ug-Qualtoth obviously wasn't a friend, whoever that was.

"But you burnt an offering, and I briefly had control there. Now, why do you scorn me? You were ever a faithful servant Abaddon."

"My name is Six!" Six snarled. "And you're wondering why I hate you? Well, maybe it is has something to do with me getting my conscious back. Now fuck off."

The clicking of mandibles sped up in what seemed to be frustration. The 'voice' obviously didn't like being dismissed like that. It knew its servant had changed, but it had not known how much when it plucked the man from his world. It seemed to have been rash in its decision, granted it had little time before its influence once again waned, but it did not matter in the end. For if there was one thing that the being knew how to do was be patient. It would bring the defiant man back under its control, one way or another.

"Very well, but you shall remain here. This realm is yours, stay here you will until you serve me again."

Six could almost feel the strange being leave. He could still feel it's influence, feel it tugging at his mind and soul, but it's attention was no longer directed at him.

The man stood therein silence for a minute before raising his arms and putting his hands behind his head. He then started walking off in a random direction, seemingly without a worry in the world.

"Well where ever here is, best get to exploring."

…

Just as she thought, Meg landed on the soft grass in the middle of another dark forest, though this one seemed to have a calmer feeling to it. Standing straight, Meg rolled her shoulder, the wound previously there was now healed without any trace it had ever been there.

Looking around, the light of a campfire caught her attention. It was about thirty feet away and was a short walk before she was near enough to feel it's warm glow.

It was not unattended. Sitting around the fire were almost a dozen people, all seemed to come from different walks of life. One looked like the perfect picture of a nerd, a street punk, an eerily confident gambler, even a grizzled old veteran though there were more. The one thing they all had in common was that they were dirty, exhausted and all stuck in this nightmarish place

They glanced at her as she made her way over to them and took a seat. They had been through this routine many a time. Someone coming in from the forest either by escaping a trial or being sacrificed on a bloody hook, only to wind back at the fire. Alive and unharmed, only to repeat the cycle again.

However they kept on staring, because as long as they had been doing this, Meg had come back with something they hadn't seen in a long time. A genuine smile.

The blacked haired man wearing a pair of glasses, a dress shirt and a tie spoke up. "Hey…um…Meg, what uh, what's going on?" He asked

Meg's response caught them off guard. A lighthearted chuckle. "You guys are not going to believe what happened to me."

For the fist time in a while, Meg didn't feel quite so hopeless.

…

"I guess this is as good a spot as any." Six said leaning up against a wooden wall.

The former courier had spent what felt like a couple hours exploring the fake Divide. Initially, he thought it an exact copy but he soon found buildings that weren't in the right places, cars where they shouldn't be, and doors to a missile silo in the middle of the area that hadn't been there. There were even birds perched on rocks and flying around, even though no bird would ever survive in the real divide.

Also, a strange high brick wall seemed to mark the perimeter. Any time he tried to get a good look over it, he could only make out what looked like a sea of fog. So he kept on looking. There were empty barracks, broken down relay towers, and finally an old abandoned bunker.

In the bunker, he found a set of stairs leading down into the depths. As he journeyed downwards, he came upon a horrible room. The walls were made of blackened wood, with a sick red light coming through the spaces between the planks. What caught his attention however, were four meat hooks arranged in the center of the room.

He took in his surroundings, only one thought came his mind.

"I've seen worse torture chambers."

Examining the rest of the room, he found a few closets and a storage box in opposite corners. It had a good amount of space, perfect for his needs. He decided to make this strange place his temporary base of operations as he figured out how to get out of this place.

Feeling the need to cheer himself up a bit, he wanted a bit of music, though as soon as he turned on his radio, he got nothing but static. He winced at the harsh sound before turning it off.

"Uh, figures." He grumbled. "No matter, when in doubt, do it yourself."

He tried to think of a good song to sing, though he couldn't decide. Yet as he thought about it, a song popped into his head. One he hadn't heard in a long time, one his mother used to sing to him back when he was a child. Back before he slit her throat.

He walked over to the nearest hook, and placing his helmet on it as his voice rose to a lighter, more musical tone.

~"The Lions outside of your door

The wolf's in your bed

The Lions claws are sharpened for war

The wolf's teeth are red"

Reaching down, he unlocked a few hidden clasps, his shoulder pauldrons and bracers loosened as he pulled them off along with his sturdy duster.

"And what monstrous sight he makes

Mocking man's best friend"

With great care, he placed his duster on the next hook, before he got to work removing his armor.

"Both the wolf and lion crave

The same thing in the end"

With a snap of the clasps, the armor came loose. He pulled that off as well and put that on the next hook.

"The Lions outside of your door

The wolf's in your bed"

"The wolf, he howls

The lion does roar

The wolf lets him in"

Under it all was a dirty but still intact white long-sleeved shirt. It was in need of being washed, so with a tug he pulled it over his head, exposing the flesh beneath.

"The lion runs in through the door

The real fun begins"

Six's body was fit, not a hint of fat on his torso, only corded muscle. His skin was slightly paler than his face, though that's not what stood out. It was the scars. All along his body were hundreds of faded scars. Some small, some large, and some that showed he had taken a hit that would have killed anyone else. There were even a few over his heart and along his spine, though those looked more like from a surgery than a weapon. Though two stood out on his back. The wings.

"As they both rush upon you and

Rip open your flesh"

"The lion eats his fill and then

The wolf cleans up the mess"

On either side of his spine was what looked like folded wings. They ran from the top of the shoulder blade, down to the lower back. Another thing that made them stand out was that not only did they seem to be the oldest, they seemed to be burn scars. Brand scars.

"The Lions outside of your door

The wolf's in your bed"

Six unfastened his belt with Gehenna and ALSD still attached, and hung it up on the remaining hook.

"The Lions outside of your door

The wolf's…in…your…bed"~

As his song came to an end, Six walked over to the wall and sat himself down and rested his head. He wanted to relax, at least for a bit. He would need to save all of his energy if he wanted escape this place and get back to the Mojave.

If he was lucky, then he might run into that smiling killer again. Maybe even rip off his head. Six smiled at that as he closed his eyes and drifted off to sleep.

…

Song at the end was Lion and the Wolf be Thrice. Don't wanna get sued.

That's number two. One of the things I wanted to do was make Six powerful enough to take on the supernatural killers and win, but it's still going to be a fight. I mean Michael Myers is a killer and the guy can tank bullets and getting stabbed in the face and keep on trucking. That means the others who are just as if not more supernaturally powered are as tough as him. Especially with the Huntress, who killed squads of russian soldiers and Freddy fucking Krueger when is literally a monster in a dream.

To bad Six is just as vicious and strong as them. Also helps that he fights nearly everyday, and against people who can fight back, mutant abominations, and killer robots.

Anyways, hope you all have a good day and happy Halloween!