"Well you two look horrid." Feng Min greeted our group at the edge of the clearing. "I take it the Trial wasn't too terrible, then?" Behind her, the others were bustling around, moving from the medical kit stockpile to the toolbox stockpile, back and forth with items being exchanged. At one point, I thought I saw a key passed between hands.

"I got hooked once, but that's it." David's reply was a snide chuckle, grimacing at the pain the movement caused to the gaping wound in his chest. "The Huntress can't handle this beast!" He flexed his bicep once, then pulled his long hair back against his scalp. I rolled my eyes with a smile, my own hands going to the wound in my neck.

"And you, Farisa?" Her eyes turned to me, holding me with their dark depths.

"Ah, hatchet came out of nowhere and hit me." I shrugged a little bit, but her eyes tracked the blood on my face and chin, prompting another answer, "Then she grabbed me in the gate, but I got away."

"Well, good job, you two." Feng bobbed her head in a pleased nod. "Why don't you two rest for a bit, help yourself to some food? Claudette whipped up some rabbit stew for us." She gestured to the girl squatting by the flames, equipped with a ladle and a pouch of green herbs. "I'm sure the Entity has more in store for us than just the Huntress today. Detective Tapp, Meg, Jane, and Ash just left for a Trial only a few moments ago, and Bill has been swearing up and down that today's going to be a busy one."

"Thank you, Feng." I gave her a warm smile, watching my teammates for a moment as they filtered back into the crowd of busy survivors before I began towards the fire. In between Trials and in short walks through the woods, I had come to learn a few things about the survivors. Dwight was supposed to be the leader of the group, but he had a few flaws that sometimes made him be a bit of a coward. Feng Min stepped up to serve as a co-leader, working alongside him to better the game of the rest of us. Feng Min ran the supply for Trials, making sure medical kits were loaded with whatever they needed and toolboxes stuffed full of tools and extra gears. Dwight handled the strategy of it, making sure we knew our way around the maps and which generators to hit. Work together, if we can manage, but try not to hit all the generators in one area. Otherwise, we lock ourselves into one area and provide a perfect situation for the killers to patrol and slaughter whoever walked in their domain.

As for the others, they all seemed to have their roles. Some were more skilled at running the killers in circles, such as Laurie, who always seemed to be the object of their obsession. Then there was Nea, who always seemed to manage a balanced landing from high places, just out of the killer's reach. Jake was a master saboteur when it came to hook dismantling, whereas Claudette knew her way around plants with some botany knowledge she carried over from her previous life. It made me long to know what kind of skills I could contribute to the Trials, and what everyone else's had brought to the fray. However, with only a sparse fragment of memory to go off of and not even a hint at a name, I couldn't even begin to figure out what it was I could offer.

My attention was turned to David, who took only one step before he turned back to the woods, his eyes fixating on something in the distance. A groan followed by a dark chuckle rumbled from the barrel chested man, his steps unsteady whilst he limped towards the edge of the clearing once again, "Hey Feng, grab me a medkit with a styptic agent, would ya? I'm being demanded into the next one already. Guess it doesn't want me to mither around her, huh?" He extended a hand as Feng returned to his side with the requested item, then without another word, he limped back into the surrounding forest.

"I'm going too," Nea grumbled from where she had risen by the fire, stretching her arms high overhead until her shoulders and elbows popped. "Guess I'll see you dipshits later." Her eyes cast a brief stare at our little congregation before she, too, disappeared into the shadows. Not far behind her, Jake and Kate followed. One by one, the survivors left the clearing, until the only ones left were myself and Quentin, who was asleep by the crackling fire. Without them here, the clearing seemed empty, deprived of the only life that seemed to somehow thrive in this world.

I sat beside the fire for a while, helping myself to the stew that Claudette had prepared before she left. All around me I heard their screams from the distance, a chorus of agony rising to the clouded sky. I tried my best to tune them out, but it was no use. I would just have to bear with their screams for a while until they came back, however they came back. I never knew that you could hear their screams from this little fire, a constant and painful reminder of the fate we faced in this world. The Entity, from what I was learning, was a creature that thrived off the pain and suffering of us survivors, pleasuring itself with our fear and feeding it back to us in a constant cycle.

I heard the snap of a twig from beyond the clearing. Were the others coming back already? It hadn't been long since they all left, and I still heard shrill cries from the distance. I set my dishware aside and rose to my feet, turning to face the lurch in the shadows-

"Evan?"

"Shh."

I could just barely see the light of the fire reflecting off the metal protruding from his muscles. With the way the soft orange glow hit him, and the depth of the shadows that were so heavy already in the woods, he was a haunting sight to behold. I quietly made my way closer, looking back once at Quentin to make sure he hadn't stirred. "What are you doing here?"

Evan was quiet for a while, then a single, scarred hand reached into the light, extended towards me with his palm up. I hesitated, a flash of the night in his cave rushing back to me, but against my better judgement, I took it. My skin relished the heat of his skin on mine, the years and years of Trials and hard work evident in the callouses on his fingers. My own hands explored his texture, his long digits, every little scar and crack in his worn flesh. His fingers closed around mine, and he pulled me into the dark with him, beside him, so close to him now I could feel his breath on my hair.

He raised my hand to his face, placing it on the mask he used to hide himself from us, from me. A thudding in my chest matched the butterflies in my stomach, filling me with a nervous excitement. In slow, deft movements, my fingers moved beneath the straps that held his mask in place, and the metallic piece fell from his face, hitting the ground with a quiet ring.

I didn't get to look at his face long before his mouth was on mine.

His tongue explored me, searching against mine in gentle desperation. His hands were holding me against him as though he were afraid I would break free and run from him, pulling against my hips so that they clashed against his. He seemed so desperate to keep me there against his chest, keep his pounding heart close to mine. This man, this large, imposing man was being so gentle, yet so adamant that I needed to be his, right then, right now. I wrapped my arms around his shoulders, running one hand over his head, the other on his stubbled jawline. My feet lifted from the ground when his hands moved from my hips to my rear, holding me so close he could crush me if he squeezed tight enough.

Rough bark scraped against my back, tugging at my clothes, pulling them up and away. No, not the tree, him. His hands were on my body, exploring my skin underneath of my shirt. He felt so rigid against me, as hard as the tree at my back but gentler than the leaves. A whimper, but not a pained one, escaped my lips when I felt his teeth graze so softly against my neck, tasting the sweat on my skin, the predator finally having hold of his prey. Trapped between the tree and the pressure of his body, I was immobilized, unable to withdraw from him. Even so, my arms held fast around him, keeping him close, closer, I didn't want to let him go. My hand squeezed his shoulder, exerting whatever pressure I could to try to convey to him that I wanted him just as bad as he wanted me. I was getting lightheaded, my breath shallow, his breathing just as quick-paced as my own, our hearts beating against our rib cages so hard I thought they would burst at each other.

Then just as suddenly as we had spiraled into this moment, we were out of it, panting before each other with red faces and shaky bodies. His hands squeezed my hips firmly, making sure I was still there, really there, before bowing his head into my neck, inhaling a deep, slow breath. For such a big man, he looked so fragile in this moment, overcome with whatever emotion had spurred such a heated encounter. I could still see that emotion in the tremble of his arms, feel it with every beat of his heart.

We held each other like that for ages, enjoying each other's presence. He was so warm against me, almost lulling me into a doze. My eyes closed for a moment as his lips pressed against my neck, peppering the faint line that served as a remnant of my death. All was quiet for what seemed like ages, spent in peaceful togetherness, until he pulled his mouth away an inch to whisper, "Farisa… what happened in the cave, when I… I didn't-"

"It's okay." I stroked his head gently, letting my cheek press against his temple whilst he voiced his thoughts, "You didn't want to… right?" It was a shot in the dark, and my voice betrayed my unsteady emotions. I felt him nod against my skin, sparking a shiver that ran down the length of my body. "I won't lie to you… When I woke up, I was really hurt that you did that to me. I felt so betrayed, and I wanted to hate you. I still don't understand why you did it." He was silent against my collar bone, and I knew he was listening. My voice trembled with my unsteady breath, "I want to understand, Evan… I want to know why I can't bring myself to hate you. I know we shouldn't be like this… But I can't push you away."

"Please don't." The muscles of his chest flexed as I felt the taut squeeze of his large hands on my hips, pressing himself even closer to me. "I don't know what the hell it is about you, but-"

"What?"

"You wouldn't understand." Evan began to pull away from me, place me back down on my feet and put space between us. I felt cold without him against me, almost incomplete. I tried to take a step towards him, but the distance was back, with him holding a hand up to keep me away.

"Then make me understand, I want to understand, Evan." Against his wishes, I took a step towards him, then another, closing the distance he had made between us. His hand pushed against my shoulder, keeping me back, but not for long. I swiped his hand aside and stepped until I was even closer to him, breathing the same air as him once again, chest to chest. I grabbed a fistful of his overalls, pulling gently on his clothing, a demanding gesture from someone so much smaller than him. "How am I supposed to understand if you don't tell me?"

"Farisa, listen to me. It's something a survivor wouldn't understand." He grabbed me by the wrists, leaning down so he was face to face with me. "Its what the Entity instills in all of us. Bloodlust, a craving for violence and bloodshed. What we feel when we cut down you survivors. Its something I can't put into words." He squeezed lightly, then touched his forehead to mine, "Just… understand that the idea of you, being in that situation…"

My heart jumped into my throat, listening to his quiet explanation. "Do I make you feel that way?" The question came unbidden from my lips, spoken before I knew what I was saying. I gazed into his hazel hues, enraptured by the colors, the light of the moon on his prominent cheekbones highlighting every strong line in his stone-expression.

"Are you seriously asking me this?" He huffed a soft chuckle, straightening his posture and standing at his full height once again. He ran a hand over his mouth, thumbing the stubble that shadowed his square jaw while he thought of an answer. "Its… complicated. I feel something for you, but not the same as in a Trial. Definitely not the same feelings as the others." He brought his arms around me one last time, holding me to his chest, "I don't know how the hell to explain it."

"You don't have to," I let my hand reach up to grasp at the shoulder strap of his overalls, "I think I get it." His eyes were burning as they looked at me, not with hate, not with rage, something much more passionate instead. He moved my hair from my face, began to lean down-

Then he snapped away from me, looking up and around with such alarm that it surprised me. I bent and picked up his mask, passing it into his hands before I, too, looked around. All was quiet in the dark of the woods, almost too quiet. That's when I heard them; in the distance, heavy footsteps and rushed breathing. The others were coming back, quick on their feet, rushing for the clearing that ensured their safety. I grabbed Evan by the hand and pulled him behind one of the larger trees, just before Nea ran past with her team in tow. I exhaled slowly, relief flooding my overworked body.

"Farisa…" Evan's voice was right by my ear, his body hunched over mine as we took shelter behind the large silhouette of the old oak. He sounded nervous, unsure if we should stay around this area when the other survivors could be rushing in and out. My skin tingled as he said my name. "Its not a good idea for me to be here, not with you." I knew what he meant, but it still kind of hurt to hear that. He began to turn from me, taking long steps that would take him away into the heart of the woods, "I need to go-"

"But I don't want you to."

He paused with his back to me, then looked back over his shoulder, catching me with such a raw, unkept emotion that I found myself heating up inside. "I can't stay here, Farisa. If I were to go out there into that campfire ring-"

"Then what? What would they do to you?"

Silence. Did he really think they would condemn him? I approached him slowly, touching his arm; he was trembling. The idea must terrify him, going against eons of cutting them down to instead sit side by side with them in the warmth of the fire's glow. Years and years of bloodshed, listening to the screams reach the sky, and causing countless numbers of deaths and wounds had taken a toll on him, it seemed. I couldn't begin to fathom how that must feel. "Evan, they won't hurt you. They don't have anything that can."

"Do you really think that they'd let me share that space with them?" His tone shifted, darker now than it had been before. He wasn't afraid of change, no, but there was no telling what he thought about this change, other than that he was angry for my suggesting it. "Farisa, I have spent my entire time walking this plane murdering them. I have ripped Dwight's guts from his stomach, I have sent Laurie's brain matter spattering in the grass. Fuck, I've sawed the limbs off every single one of them! You think because of one newbie survivor who doesn't know how the fuck to play the game that suddenly, they're going to change their mind about me, the man who's been one of many Grim Reapers?"

I winced at his spiteful words, feeling the tears prick at my eyes. I couldn't cry, not in front of him. I took a shaky breath, focusing my energy into keeping the tears from flowing as I hissed, "I'm sure you weren't a murder machine when you first started either. You've had years to practice. I've been here, what, two days? Three? I don't even know how long I've been here, but not long enough. I'm still learning."

The shock on his face was palpable as he grasped what he had said, "Farisa, I didn't mean-"

"No, you did." My cheeks were wet. I couldn't stop them now, the salty droplets falling like fierce waterfalls that ceased to stop. A hiccup pushed past my lips, and I used my sleeve to swipe away one of the streams. "I didn't want to be here, Evan. None of us did. Not you, not any of the survivors, nor any of the killers. The Entity is using us for its own gain; we didn't build the wall between who is who, It did." Evan took a step towards me, a dark shadow crossing his otherwise forlorn eyes. "I just wanted to run my gallery business. I just wanted to live happily with who I thought was mister perfect. I didn't want any of this!"

"Farisa-"

"Don't." I held a hand up to him, pushing softly, weakly on his chest. His heart beat so hard against my palm, thumping, throbbing in his muscles. I couldn't think straight, couldn't feel anything other than intense hurt and a soreness in my chest. "Evan, I… I don't want to go into another Trial."

"I know." His chest moved closer, and he was around me, holding me, stifling my tears in his overalls. "But we have to. We don't have much choice. Just try to bear with it, and it'll become some semblance of normal." My hands seized around fistfuls of the fabric, my breath stuttering with his softness. It was all I could do to hold onto him, quell my cries against his chest and just breathe in his scent; earthy, dusty, rich with the scent of dew-dotted leaves. "So just… stop crying. Please."

"Farisa!"

I heard them calling my name from the fire. They had noticed I was missing. I rubbed my eyes on my sleeves and whispered, "I should go back." Evan merely nodded, rubbing his thumb across my cheek, before letting me go. We both knew it was time to separate, back to the "reality" that existed in this plane. We had to part and go back to what we were selected to be… foes. "Evan… thank you, for visiting."

The man before me pushed his mask up his face, uncovering his mouth so he could he bend and peck a small kiss on my cheek. "You should return the favor sometime. If you ever need anything, you know where to find me." Evan left me with a soft smile, then disappeared into the inky depths of the surrounding wood.

I turned back to the clearing, making sure to swipe the last of my tears from my cheeks before walking ahead. Even though I felt much lighter, more certain of what it was I felt for the big man, I couldn't shake the feeling of haunted eyes watching me from beyond.