"*******!"

I heard my name echoing, reverberating in my skull. Everything was dark but for a small sliver, dully shining against the black depths of the void. Flashes of deep red lit up the darkness, arcing as sharp lightning strikes that coiled and clashed against the black of my mental recesses. I tried moving towards that tiny fragment of light, but every step forward was another step back, the distance only growing with every step I took. My pace quickened to a sprint, my lungs protesting with every breath I took. That sliver only grew smaller, until it was only the tiniest spec amongst a backdrop of chaos.

The red rumbled and took over the sky, reaching sharp, sleek claws towards me. It was too late to run away, so I kept charging forward, my skin hot with every slice of the piercing pikes reaching from the deadly sky. My hand launched forwards towards the speck, desperate, when I felt my body lifted away from it, soaring higher and higher into the sky, elevated by the danger that shoved its way through my guts. I looked up in time to see a pair of hellishly red eyes staring down into my soul.

My eyes flew open.

It took a moment for me to adjust, recognizing first the warmly lit clearing, then the bodies that idled in spots here and there. The crackle of the fire was the only sound, the smell of burning wood and dew wafting in the air in a puff of smoke. Finally, I felt warmth, encompassing me in a loose embrace. I was back in the survivor camp, away from the MacMillan Estate and the man that paroled its grounds with a bloody machete.

A machete now stained with my blood.

A wretched sob broke from my chest, surprising whoever it was that held me. Evan had struck me down, slashed his way through my neck as though it were nothing more than a stick of butter. I had thought we were more than that, close enough not to raise a hand against one another.

No. He was not a man, not gentle like he led me to believe or as caring as he had shown me. He was a bloodthirsty killer, stockpiling weaponry and scrap with full intention to turn it against us. I should have known better than to place trust in him. I trusted him, and just like that he ended me at my weakest moment. I was down, and he took full advantage of that. The Entity chose him for a reason; bloodthirst, rage, strength and power enough to knock down those before him. He didn't even need to chase me for that to happen, I just stupidly walked into his cave and handed myself over on a silver platter.

He could have done all this from the beginning though, right? I could have woken up at the survivor camp from the start, but instead I awoke to him that day. I spent hours with him, talking on even grounds. He protected me from the Wraith when he visited. We went into a Trial, pitted against each other, and he let me go when he could have just as easily ended me on the spot. So why, then, did he choose to swing that rusted blade in that moment?

The arms around me tightened, pulling my rampant thoughts out of my head and back to reality. My broken pieces clipped together, sharp in my ribs, jabbing my heart with jagged edges laced with uncertain betrayal. I looked up to see who it was, who attempted to hold my shattered mentality together as I lay breaking, to see a bearded David looking down upon my tear-soaked face. He pressed his lips together, thinking on the right words to say, but came up empty and remained silent instead. That was fine… his embrace was enough.

It was a while before I finally began to calm down, to the point of numb silence against his warm chest. His hand stroked through my hair once, twice, before finally letting his voice rumble, "Where did you go?" I looked up to his cautiously curious face, though I could still see the glint of worry in his dark brown eyes.

"I went for a walk," My reply was quiet, uncertain on how much I should tell him, but the words spilled before I could dam them up, "and I ended up in the MacMillan Estate. I thought I would visit E… the Trapper, but-"

"He mori'd you."

"He what?"

"Mori'd." David repeated the unknown word, a strangely beautiful term that rolled off the tongue. "It means that he killed you with his own blade rather than hang you up on those accursed hooks. It's not uncommon for Killers to bring one into Trials against those of us they don't particularly like. Laurie is usually a lead target." At this, he looked over to the blonde, perched on one of the three logs placed around the fire. "They look like a skull. If you see one on their belt, make sure you're careful to look at what color the skulls are."

When I gave him a confused look, he explained even more than I knew was possible. These mori's were made to look like skulls, and if the engravings were etched in yellow, the killer could only kill the very last living survivor in the match. If the etchings were green or pink, then he needed to hook a survivor once before he could kill the survivor. The only difference between the two was that green meant he could only do so to one survivor. A pink-etched skull meant he could mori all four survivors after each one has been placed upon a hook. David went on to say that killers had more than just mori's that they could bring in; cut coins, wreaths made of a variety of thorns, and rotting oak branches gave the killers some advantage in the Trials.

On the other hand, survivors have offerings for the Entity as well, to which David explained, "Salt pouches like these," he held one such pouch in his hand, "can influence the Entity to give us better items from loot boxes. Coins will give us more loot boxes in a Trial. Then we have these." He set the salt pouch down amongst a pile of various items, and instead pulled out a scrap of fabric. Knots were tied at every corner, "This is a shroud of union. The Entity takes this and promises that it will start the Trial with everyone together."

"But we don't have items to prevent us from getting mori'd?" I frowned at him, taking the shroud from his hands. The fabric was soft, supple, and pleasant to the touch. I didn't want to let it go. "And… wait, what are these?" I reached in, grabbing something incredibly unpleasant. It was a hand, stark white with a spiked, open circle carved into the palm. I dropped it immediately, fighting back a disgusted scream.

"That's a white ward." David didn't seem fazed as he picked it back up, pushing it under the pile. "The Entity will preserve the item we take into the Trial. So long as we die with it in our hand, we keep it." He quickly reorganized the bits and pieces he had pulled out of the pile, then brushed off his hands. "Anyway… Enough about offerings and bullshit. I'm sure you're hungry."

As if on command, my belly roared at the premise. "I guess a bite wouldn't hurt."

.

.

.

Everything went black after that bite of food, the scenery whirring by at an unsteady pace. I was being dragged through the woods again, carried away by the grasp of the Entity. The air grew colder by the second, dropping by tens of degrees until resting at below freezing. The Entity drew me further into the air before tossing me carelessly into a snowbank, then dissipated into the wind.

Where in the hell was I now? I could see dilapidated ski lifts, an old, broken down ski lodge, plenty of rocks and snow combines, and lots of snow. I shivered, forcing myself to stand on unsteady, numb feet, and began walking to who knows where. I hadn't been in many Trials by this point, but I knew well enough what to look for. My eyes looked towards the sky, briefly focusing on the flickering lights of a generator, before looking back to the ground.

A stand of bones and skulls stood tucked against a stone, flames licking the underside, tasting the teeth and marrow. I knelt in the snow, inspecting it, gently feeling the skull; it was warm to the touch, and I got the overwhelming sense that this little item was dangerous. Looking closer, I found the twine that held all of it together, tangled from bone to bone and weaved between teeth and eye sockets. Carefully, slowly, I pulled on one end, and the item fell apart-

Pain blossomed in the crook of my neck just as I heard the metallic swish of metal rocketing through the air. I cried out and set off in a sprint towards the generator, crouching low beside it for cover as I inspected my wound. It wasn't deep, just bleeding. Whatever had flown at me had barely grazed me, but it was enough. My scent was in the air, pain and fear mixing with the thick smell of copper and zinc. The hum of my heart beating in my chest and the hum of a low, melodic voice filled my frozen-tipped ears.

"Farisa," Someone whispered my name. I turned slowly, wincing at the pain it caused, to see Dwight in the frame of a busted-out window, placed in a wall of snowy wooden beams. He waved for me to move towards him, "keep low, move slow." I peered around the generator again, trying to find the source of the humming, before beginning towards the man, crawling carefully through the window vault. "Oh Farisa, your neck. Hold still…" He tore a strip of cloth from his untucked shirt, using it to staunch the bleeding. "Its not much, but it'll hold for now."

"Thank you." I stayed close to him, carefully looking left and right as the humming faded. "Who is that?"

"The Huntress." Dwight took me by the hand and pulled for me to follow. "She throws hatchets, and if you're too close she's got a battleax she swings. She's incredibly intimidating." He didn't sound intimidated at all, though. Perhaps he had some odd thing for her? Then again, I didn't have room to talk. Evan briefly flashed through my mind, and I had to force myself to shake away the thoughts just as he spoke again, "Were you the one who destroyed that totem?"

"The glowing skulls? Yeah."

"You two, come here!" A harsh whisper surprised both of us, but even more surprising was the shirtless David on the generator. "If we grind this out real fast, we can jump on the one Adam has going in the lodge." He didn't even look remotely cold, even though fog replaced his breath.

Humming filled the air again. Was it safe? My heartbeat was still steady, so she wasn't on top of us, at least not yet. I knelt by the generator, peering inside the mechanisms. The wires were twisted, frozen foliage clogged the gears, and old, dusty oil corroded the metal. I frowned at the work we had ahead of us, jamming my hand inside to pull out a few stones and a clump of frozen snow. "Hey Dwight, what's a totem?" I glanced to my left, where he was cleaning out debris on his side of the machine.

"It's a power that the Entity gives to the killers." Dwight dropped a clump of sod onto the ground beside him. "Those things are put up when the killer has a hex, which calls the Entity down to intervene in a trial. It's good that you destroyed it." I nodded my hand as I reached in and pulled out another wad of dark filth. I must have pulled on a wire by accident, causing sparks to fly and the generator to pop and fizz in my face. I flinched away, shielding my face and falling on my rear.

"Shit…" David hissed, trying to work quickly through the wires. "Hurry, get back on it, before-"

A hatchet swung through the air and slammed into the generator, narrowly missing both of our faces. She was coming, her humming low and growing louder. It was hauntingly beautiful, making the scenery too serene for what we knew was coming. I heard her footsteps, her breath, her grip on a huge battle axe.

B-bmp b-bmp b-bmp-

She was tall, wild, and beautiful. Her bare feet slapped into the snow, her clothes hung neatly on her muscular frame, and a mask shaped into a rabbit covered her face. I could see the glint of the sky reflecting in her eyes behind the mask, bringing out the bloodlust and hatred that she harbored. A veil attached to her mask flowed down her back, a bride to nature itself.

Her eyes locked onto the three of us at the generator. Her hand rose, readying another hatchet.

The generator roared to life just as we darted away from it, narrowly avoiding the projectile. David growled, pushing my body towards Dwight and hissing, "Go join Adam, I got her."

"But-"

"Go."

"Come on," Dwight grabbed my arm and tugged me away, further from the bare man and the woman that towered at least two feet taller than him. My only hope was that he would be okay as we moved into the lodge, further away from them.

"This way," I saw the dark-skinned man, Adam, working diligently on the generator tucked against the staircase. At his back, a sitting area with a firepit nestled in the floor, surrounded by garbage, empty boxes, rotting corpses and blood stains. I averted my eyes, swallowing bile and setting to work on the generator, doing my best to ignore the constant sounds of tempered steel cutting through the air.

Adam, Dwight, and I managed to push through the five generators on our own. Not once did we hear a sound from David, only the sounds of metal cutting through nothing and the Huntress's constant humming. Only when we finished the last generator did we finally hear the steel connect and David's agonized screaming. I turned to face the noise, trembling at the premise of his death, my own flashing before my eyes.

"We'll rescue him," Dwight assured, placing a hand on my shoulder. "But we need to open the gates first. Adam?" He looked at the man who had his hand on the lever. After the last generator had been powered, we had made our way towards the light of the nearest gate. Escape was there, so close, but not yet. David screamed again, reminding me of what had to be done. Adam let go of the lever as the rusted metal rattled open.

I began to move deeper into the map, away from the gate, "Let's go, then-!"

"No! Farisa, you stay here." Adam caught me by the wrist and yanked back hard, then pushed me by the shoulders into the brick structure of the exit gate. "You need to stay here. If she comes to you, you can run out the gate. It will give us enough time to get David down and out. Do you understand?" Adam waited until I finally ceded defeat and nodded. He reached into his pocket, turning back towards the lodge with Dwight by his side.

No sooner had I turned my back to the map when I heard a stone lash against the bricks, chipping a piece of the bisque clay from the structure. What the hell was that? I turned back towards Adam and Dwight just as they disappeared.

The humming filled the air again. Whatever they had thrown alerted her that I was here, a diversion so Dwight and Adam could sneak closer to David. I swallowed hard, watching the monstrous woman appear in the distance, getting clearer with every wide step she made towards me. It wasn't long before I could see the murderous intent in her eyes and the blood splatter across her otherwise white mask.

I inhaled a shaky breath, unmoving, trapped by her sheer presence as she moved ever closer. Her breath fogged the air whilst she raised her battle axe high above her head in preparation to swing. But I was moving before she could even bring it down, darting left away from her axe's path; she surprised me by slamming me sideways with the flat side of the cruel weapon. I went sprawling against the brick wall, my ears ringing from the impact.

Her hand seized me by the throat before I could gather my bearings, lifting me high into the air for only three short breaths. Then, she slammed me against the brick structure, making sure to scrape my flesh against the rough brick. She brought her face closer to mine and the intense stench of rot, decay, and old blood filled my nostrils, forcing me to gag and choke in her hold. A chuckle rumbled from her throat, "So you're the new blood… I don't know what he sees in you." Her voice was rich, low, and sultry with a rumble of consonant sounds. She sounded as though she swallowed her vowels, creating a richly exotic thickness with every word she spoke. "All I see is a pathetic rabbit. Maybe that's why he named you the way he did."

Evan?

"L-let me-"

"Go?" The Huntress cut me off, squeezing harder on my trachea. I gasped hoarsely as my breath was crushed out of me. My feet lashed out in feeble kicks and my hands clawed at her arm, but her inhuman strength had me trapped against the chilled wall. "You're so close to the exit. I'll let you go. But I want to play."

"Play?"

A dark look shadowed her gaze as a twisted grin warped her lips. She pulled me away from the wall, then bashed me again into it, over and over and over again. Blood spewed from my lips, my insides felt pulpy, and my vision was getting fuzzy. Shadows and lights dazzled my vision, dark bloodthirsty eyes flickering like madness in front of my eyes. The rabbit-masked beast snarled the words, "learn your place. These Trials aren't fun and games, kid. And we killers are not your friends. The Trapper may have some semblance of pity for you lot, but the rest of us?" She dropped me to the grass, letting me sputter and gasp only for a single breath before she kicked me harshly in the ribs. "You're nothing but prey to us."

"It's an Arabic word. One of its translations is 'prey.'"

Bill's words came racing back to me. My name, its meaning, and what that made me in relation to Evan. Nothing more than mere prey.

"E-Evan-"

Another blow to my ribs made my stomach revolt. "That's 'Trapper' to you." The woman knelt over me, gripping me by the hair so she could pull and spit into my face, "You've no right to be calling him by name. Haven't you learned?" Her free hand dragged across my throat, reminding me of the scar that wrapped around my neck. I trembled at her touch, tempting a hoarse laugh from the beastly woman, "Or maybe he likes to keep you around because you're stupid?"

"Farisa!"

I heard Dwight's voice, calling out to me. I tried to look, but she bashed my face down into the dirt, "Learn your place, little rabbit. Next time, I won't be so kind." The weight lifted from my skull, and she was gone, padding away with wrathful vengeance towards where Dwight's voice had come from.

The three men had managed to sneak past her, now at my side as I choked on my own blood. They reached for me, pulling me to my feet as I sputtered the words, "I'm fine, I'm fine, lets just go." I wiped the blood from my mouth, my nose crinkling at the sting in my throat and the stench that still hung in the air. My feet started unsteadily towards the door, my toes numb from the cold; I wish the rest of me were as numb as my toes.

"What did she do to you?" David caught me by the elbow, twisting me around so he could look at my bloodied face. I wrenched my arm free of his grip, giving him a hard stare, then immediately relented. He was in worse shape than I was. A gaping hole in his shoulder, the blood congealed around the frayed and exposed muscle. I could see the tip of a laceration on his shoulder, and knew it stretched further down his back than what I saw.

"I'm sorry," I managed to say, taking his hand and giving it a gentle squeeze, "She just kicked me around a little bit. Something about fresh meat." He seemed satisfied with the answer, so I left it at that. "Let's just go back to the fire and recover. It's freezing out here."