Notes: I uhh. I will eventually find a way to not write trials. One day I will write fewer trials. T-T

It didn't take long for Sam to realize who the killer was. She'd grimly decided that, even if she didn't have her double-edged skill in the mix, she'd rather not piss off teammates by being useless again. Running wasn't fun, she still felt drained from the night before, but there was that Entity-gifted stamina to just do it, despite everything else. (The Shia Labeouf of this world. Complete with the whole eating people, and everything.)

She was barely a few steps up the stairs of the coal tower, heading for the generator up top, when the heartbeat started, and seemed to just keep going. Was it unnerving as fuck to be hiding behind crates and keep thinking someone was somehow on her? Yes, yes it was. But it was even worse when she bit the bullet and jumped out from the top floor, steadying her landing and taking off at a run, only to find the chase she'd expected hadn't actually been on her tail at all. And then it was. And of course it was the fucking speed demon that was Legion in frenzy.

She didn't need to look back at him to know it was Frank. She still looked, anyway, glancing back for just a moment before watching her path again.

Fuck, that mask was disconcerting. Not as gruesome as some killers (the fucking Leatherface guy, for one, that was fucked up) but still off-putting.

He caught up to her easily (of course he did, he was hyped up on Entity-gifted energy, there was no way she could outrun him for long) and Sam tensed for the hit. Instead, empty fingers brushed at the tattoo on the back of her bare shoulder, and it was her own damn fault when she stumbled.

Another reason why this stupid outfit was stupid. And she was stupid for wearing it after daylight hours. Her frustration with that fact was only doubled when she heard the taunt behind her.

"Was wondering when I'd get to see these up close."

If he meant the clothes or the tattoos that were no longer covered, she couldn't know. What did send a shiver over her was the implication that he'd already seen them from afar.

Sam cut her turn sharply, slamming down the pallet between them, managing to hit him just a bit as he was growling the end of his frenzy, and she took off running again. Somehow she came out of that uninjured.

Can't mean anything good if he's not hurting you.

Her shoulders tightened, still feeling his fingertips. The heartbeat was fading away, she just needed to get some distance.

He might not be frenzied anymore, but he could still move faster than her. Luckily he seemed to be heading away, so she ducked behind a brick wall, working her way around corners at a walk, to take cover for a moment and figure out her next move.

Sam tried to remember what any of her skills would do. She still didn't know about the tape skills, and whatever they were they gave no clues. Must be situational somehow. It may be trial and error to figure out how they worked. Meg's, she knew wouldn't kick in until the last generator finished. And that was some ways away. And then Feather Fall. Her most familiar skill by now.

Her eyes caught movement on the ground, frowning. Fuck, that was red light, but the heartbeat wasn't—

"Jesusfuckin'—" She jumped to her feet, stumbling back momentarily as he was right in front of her. Blocking her way out. Stupid, to put herself in a corner.

"You immortal today, puppy?"

Sam yelped at the slice across her arm, gritting her teeth and grabbing for the injury as he cleaned his blade. She should be taking advantage of his pause, pushing past him to keep running, but that would require her to push past him which would require contact. And too much of her was okay with that idea for her to think it was smart.

Frank had no such reluctance in getting close, backing her against the wall. The knife hovered a few inches from her arm again, but his other hand pressed against the bricks beside her head.

"No magic act this time, hm. And not running?"

Fuck, she wished she could see his face, so she could have any idea how to play this. "Why didn't you hit me before?" If she wanted to be a good teammate, she could still try to stall him as much as possible.

He leaned in close, face just to the right of hers, and Sam could hear the way his mask amplified his breath as he teased, "A man can't admire the view?"

There still wasn't any pounding heartbeat, but Sam was well aware of her own pulse thrumming under her skin. She felt far too naked at the moment. Bare arms, bare legs, bare midriff, all soaking up the heat that radiated from his body. She swallowed her nerves, thoughts disturbingly silent. No arguments made, no defense given, just a complete denial to acknowledge the situation. Trying not to think about it.

"…I thought you already had," she managed, attempting to sound something other than breathless, and failing.

There was a pause, and she flinched briefly as he raised the knife toward her face, but then he flicked it down into his palm, running a bloody knuckle down her cheek. "It seems to me, at this point, you should've run. Do you know why you're staying, puppy?" The question was a murmur as Frank's mask pressed into her hair, and regardless of whatever thoughts might be held back, Sam simply couldn't think.

"I…" He was so close. He was touching her, breathing her in, and her toes curled in her sneakers. She should be running.

"Because I do."

Sam felt the blush burning through her, heating every inch of her skin, but was trying to focus on coming back to her senses. Always so overwhelming…

The tip of his knife touched to her neck and she froze, tensing, as he slid it down lightly, leaving that burning itch in its wake. It briefly caught on the edge of her bra, but only lifted enough to keep going, pulling slightly against the fabric as it slid down over the curve of her breast, and Sam's eyes closed tight, swallowing hard again. The thoughts that had been held in equilibrium were roiling in her mind, behind that screen of denial. The heartbeat came back, and she was glad for it, giving herself something to focus on besides his teasing touch.

There was a thunk, chime in the distance. One.

The tip of the blade paused just past the bottom of the band, resting against her skin. "You'd better start looking for help, puppy. You'll need it."

What?

She bit out a scream as the knife pierced between her ribs and pulled back out in one quick motion, and she slid down the wall she'd been pressed against as he cleaned off his blade once more.

"Now don't go dying on me yet. I've got plans for you."

Sam clenched her jaw against the pain of a lethal wound as he left.

Recover. Then find someone, then start helping. You have to help.

The general good advice was there, and she took it, holding still and focusing on willing the blood to stay in her body. Didn't do much good, the hand over her wound was quickly soaked, but she knew she had time. And if her time ran out, she'd be done with the trial at least.

A lot of time for him to come back and find you. A lot of time you'll be useless.

Every part of her was arguing with herself, all of them loud in her head, every worry and frustration.

Why hadn't she run? It had to be because she was stalling him, right? Retroactively, that felt like a believable explanation. She'd taken a calculated risk.

No. No, she'd stayed because she didn't want to give that small part of her leave to touch him. Letting him touch her was hard enough, put her through enough turmoil, without allowing herself to return it.

It was the knife. It had to be the knife that made his touch so… so focused. One tiny point, instead of full skin-to-skin. It was… easier? No, it was harder, but… Fuck, it was just confusing.

She'd done all she could, stabilized herself as much as possible, and now she could only wait or crawl.

Rubbing at the welt down the side of her neck, relieving some of that itch, her mind flicked back to before. To the lines drawn over her skin, and how badly she'd wanted to be touched. Somewhere in the darkest recesses of her mind, she'd imagined it. What his hands would feel like somewhere other than just her wrists, her arms. Bare skin. Some part of her was hungry for it.

And wasn't that just fucked.

"Sam."

Her eyes opened as a hand pressed over hers on her injury, putting the final touch on closing that wound before pulling away.

Ah. Jake. Okay, someone reliable.

She hurriedly shoved every unfortunate thought to the back of her mind as she stood to follow him away. Focus on the trial.

It was hard, though. Getting healed was tense - more so after their awkward moment that morning - and it was hard to focus on their generator repairs, especially once that heartbeat came again.

Sam was rising to her feet when Jake tapped her wrist. "Not real." He never stopped working. "Got something messing with it, just keep an eye out. Wait til it gets closer, he's chasing someone else."

She didn't particularly like the idea of just waiting until he showed, but Jake knew more about this than she did. And he was right, they needed to repair generators if they wanted to get out. But she felt in the middle of a chase herself, even with no sign of him. Just that constant pounding heartbeat.

"Now-" Jake left at a sprint, and Sam tried to follow. She wasn't as fast as he was, though. Meg's skill.

This time it wasn't just a touch on her shoulder, and she was almost relieved that it was the blade instead of his hand. One point of contact. She broke away, escaping the chase, but she didn't need to, he was heading off for Jake, anyway, the heartbeat still too loud and too fast as he moved away.

Sam had to pause to mend the wound, impatient. There was the sound of a pallet dropping nearby, but no noise of frustration. He didn't get hit. No time to think about that, they'd been a third of the way through the generator. She limped back to it.

She was past halfway when the heartbeat faded. Nearing in on 80% complete when she heard a scream, got an aura of a hook not too far off. She hesitated. Generator or teammate, generator or teammate.

It was probably the wrong decision, but she left the generator. There was a twitch of guilt in her gut, because she knew why she was leaving: she needed someone to know she'd done something for the team. If she saved someone, even if the generator got ignored for a little bit, she'd have at least one person on her side.

You worked with Jake on the gen! He knows you did something.

She couldn't be useless again.

It was Ace, on the hook. Legion was gone, and Sam rushed in to lift her teammate down.

"Thanks."

"Heal?" Sam offered.

"Nah, I've got a second wind, I'll be fine, go work on repairs."

Someone else was downed, then almost immediately hooked.

"I got it," Ace offered, heading in that direction. "Get gens."

Sam nodded, running back to the generator she'd been working on before. Jake was on it again, and almost as soon as she'd touched it he finished.

Two.

"Heal up?" she offered.

Jake turned her down, too. "Their frenzy can't take you down if you're already wounded, just force you to stop and mend. We'll save time running injured."

Right. …Okay. But didn't that mean he only had to hit them once? It felt risky. But Jake had been doing this far longer than her. Longer than most of the survivors.

They hurried to another generator, weaving between walls and around logs and debris - another scream, another hook - until they found one.

Focus on working. Focus on working. But she was nervous, jumpy despite the assurance that this was the right thing to do. They were most of the way through another when the generator sparked under her hands, crossing the wrong wires, and Sam felt a small miserable touch of failure.

Stop it.

She had to talk some sense into herself. Don't get sad, get angry. Get determined.

Get your shit together.

There was that shockwave through the air, and the generator sparked and popped again as she once more fumbled the wires, gritting her teeth. Someone was sacrificed already. It had to be Ace, right? Or the one he'd gone to save. They should've had more time.

Jake let out a short irritable breath, still focused on his work as he muttered, "Dick."

There was no heartbeat for a while. A long while.

Thunk, chime, their generator was completed. Three.

Only two more. Only two more generators and her adrenaline would kick in and they'd make a run for the—

Fuck. Another hook. Jake pointed the opposite direction as he ran off for the save. Sam went looking for another generator.

When the heartbeat started up again, that jolt in her chest that warned she was being chased, it was a lot harder to ignore than when Jake had been there. She looked around frantically, trying to spot the red stain, but found nothing. Still, she vaulted through a window of the coal tower, running upstairs and watching behind her.

No light. It was that same issue again. Whatever was manipulating their warning system.

Sam got to work on the generator, feeling twitchy as fuck. He'd get a bead on her soon enough. That was part of their instinct, intuition telling them where to find another victim.

Do your repairs. Two more to go. Don't think, just do.

The heartbeat faded. Okay. So he hadn't come this way. More time for repairs. More time.

She was 50% done when the next hook came. They were in the same general area. Like he was just waiting for people to come save in order to take them down. What a fuckin' dick. It felt cheap. But it gave her more time to work.

This time, when the heartbeat came, she ignored it. Almost there. And then there would only be one more needed.

It got louder. Faster.

Shit, maybe it wasn't fake. She ran to the opposite window this time, waiting until she saw the red light on the stairs before jumping and taking off as fast as she could. She winced against the pain of running while injured, but gritted her teeth and pushed on.

She was proud of herself for looping him for a bit, but started to notice a trend in the way he was trying to cut her off. Herding her. Pushing her toward one corner of the trial grounds. Hell no, fuck your plans. Taking a chance, breaking off a different direction, she tried to avoid wherever he was leading her. If she kept him chasing long enough, the other two could complete generators.

He was gaining. Time to drop another pallet. Just- a few- more- feet-

The wood slammed down but he'd already lunged across, slicing across her bare stomach, and she fell with a frustrated growl. She'd stunned him but he'd still gotten a hit. No fucking fair.

She started crawling, trying to get as far as possible, to waste as much time as possible. The heartbeat faded out, but she knew better than to trust that now. It had lied to her over and over again in this trial. She could see the stain on the ground, anyway. She knew he was behind her, just taking his time walking around the pallet instead of breaking it. It just irritated her more. That he could take his time with her.

"I can be patient… I'm taking my time with you, aren't I?"

Oh god. Worst possible time to remember that.

Worse still, it sent a shiver through her and the noise when he picked her up and lugged her over his shoulder came out more of an indignant whine than the fury she'd hoped for. Immediately, she started struggling, wincing at the pull against her wounds but kicking with all she had.

"Puppy—" His knife pricked at the seat of her shorts, tone warning, and her struggle faltered for a moment. "Be a good girl and save the wiggling for later, hm?"

The hand on her thigh tightened, and Sam became all too aware of how naked her legs were, how much contact she had against him. It had been different in jeans and long sleeves. Heat was rushing through her, and she was ashamed to admit her next bout of movement was less about getting away and more about her own embarrassment, locking her knees together and giving one more kick.

She bit her lip at the thumb that rubbed circles against the back of her thigh, ignoring her shifting.

Shit.

Goddamn it.

What the fuck was wrong with her. He was right, she was immensely fucked up. Not for wanting to die - though undoubtedly that was true, too - but for… but for wanting…

Her feet pointed and flexed anxiously, refusing to finish that thought, even as she ducked her face against his back, letting out a frustrated huff of breath.

She felt the vibration against every point of contact as he chuckled. "Don't get too comfortable. I'm not done with you."

"…I'm not done with you yet, Sammy."

Fuck, everything he'd said that day, all of it, burned into her memory. A little tremor made her shake briefly in his hold, feeling something deep in her gut that she'd rather not acknowledge.

Luckily for her, she didn't have to, since it vanished pretty much the second the meat hook pierced through her back. She screamed. It was reflex.

"You motherfucking—" Sam panted harsh breaths through gritted teeth. "You—" Hard to talk with the hook. She needed a second.

Frank lifted a finger. "Hold that thought." He broke into a run, sprinting away in frenzy.

Dick. What a fucking bastard. But she could see the aura of someone nearby. Sam held still, trying to be patient even as her face burned. It was humiliating enough dealing with whatever the fuck was wrong with her body, whatever crossed wires had decided to light up for him of all people, but the dismissive cocky way he handled it all? Like it was something he'd expected from her? He'd said he knew why she didn't run… maybe he did.

Fuck.

Sam pushed that train of thought aside as she spotted Jake running for the save. Good. Good, she could get away from this. She'd just love to run from this right now.

The heartbeat was strong in her ears. Shit. She could see him, too, and wanted to tell Jake to run and come back for her, but hesitated. By the time she opened her mouth, managed a, "Wait, you need to get out of-" it was too late. He was already lifting her down, and when she tried to run Legion sliced across her back and she was downed again.

"Fuck! Why— Can't you just give me a second to run?"

He was already heading off. Leaving her on the ground.

Sam groaned into the grass. Another chance at recovery. She'd just have to wait for help. And hope Asshole McSonofaBitch was distracted enough chasing Jake.

Deep breaths. You still have another teammate. This isn't over.

There hadn't been a generator finished in quite some time. Maybe they were screwed. Getting downed and left right in front of a hook, that couldn't be good.

She sighed. Yeah. Probably. They were all fucking screwed. He was playing dirty tonight.

You wish.

Sure would be nice if her mind could figure out what side of this attraction it was on.

Told you so. Attraction. You think so, too.

Arguing with oneself was such a pointless activity. But yes, she preferred denial. Still preferred denial. Still intended to deny what she knew objectively to be true. Just because she liked him touching her, and didn't like other people touching her, didn't mean he was in any way shape or form more than just a minor physical attraction. That was all. And it was something she'd just have to muscle past, because she sure as hell couldn't act on it. Wasn't going to. Didn't want to.

Hmmmm but really though? You sure about that?

Pointless. Argument.

The heartbeat was back. Where the hell was her— ah, there it was, still a ways off. Another silhouette. Good try, anyway. Even if they'd be too late to stop her getting hooked again.

There was a thud, noise as something hit against the base of the hook.

Sam craned her neck around, and her stomach sunk. Well, so much for Jake. Frank didn't even put him on the hook, either, just left him on the ground.

"I will be right back," he excused himself gleefully. "You two lovebirds just hang out here, have some more quality bonding time while I take care of JJ."

Shit, he was running toward the other silhouette. And it was on its way here, anyway, had been closing the distance.

There were some brief sounds of chase, but without another person to draw attention, to act as a distraction, it didn't last long.

Frank showed up not long after hauling Jeff over his shoulder, and dumped him on the ground as well.

"Three little slugs. How cute."

Jake had been crawling away from the hook - Sam hadn't even heard him - but Frank just picked him up and brought him back again.

"Now. Puppy. Back on the hook."

What? Why her? She shot a disbelieving look at Frank. "What the fuck."

"Hush up." He hauled her up again. "You're getting front and center for this. Need you to—" Sam shrieked as the hook jammed through her again. "—make a choice for me."

She closed her eyes, trying to calm herself. Breathe. Breathe. Try to breathe. Fuck, that hurt. And she could feel the pincers forming. She'd be fighting them off, soon.

"No no no, eyes open."

It made her want to keep them closed just out of spite, but she was too morbidly curious what he was up to.

He was dragging Jake closer, pulling him across the grass by one arm. Sam glared. There was no reason for him to be doing this. He had them all down, just had to hook everyone. Why was he killing time?

"I'm leaving the call up to you, Sammy." Frank dropped Jake's arm and sat on his back. "Your choice. How's your boyfriend here gonna go; hook? Or mori."

Her boyfriend? What the fuck? Jake definitely wasn't— Before today, she'd never even considered him as anything. Even today, it hadn't made sense. They weren't interested in each other. It was just some random physical response, some cross-wiring that had booted her pulse up, that—

It clicked in her head. "You." That sudden moment of her heart racing in the clearing when Jake had lingered earlier. Not some attraction out of the blue; that had been a killer heartbeat. "You were—"

"Choose. Does loverboy get the mori? Or are you saving it for yourself. Want to leave him on a hook to have his soul scraped out?"

That was how she'd put it, in the lodge. When he'd claimed none of it was real, that it didn't matter.

The sacrifice was hell. Mori was the merciful route. It always was, for her.

"The longer you wait, the less likely you'll make it off that hook in time."

"Mori."

"What the fuck, Sam?!" But Jake was already getting pushed over onto his back, trying to scoot away as Frank stabbed the knife through his ankle and dragged him back again before plunging the blade into his chest and—

Oh Jesus. Fuck, that was… And so much blood. She averted her eyes, but the noise of it, the crack and rip of a body being bisected via the sternum… Her own chest ached in sympathy. But at least Jake was free of the trial.

Mercy killing. RIght?

…These things were desensitizing her faster than she'd ever thought possible.

Frank pulled off his blood-spattered mask, wiping dripping hands against his clothes before pushing his hair out of his eyes as he stood. He glanced down at the mask, then held it in her direction. "Always wear eye protection, am I right?"

"That's fucking sick." She could see the phantom limbs, almost fully formed.

"I'm no saint, puppy, never claimed to be." He tossed the mask on the ground before walking to Jeff and flipping him over as well. "JJ."

"Frank." The older man looked wary. Which was exactly the right attitude, to be honest.

"I've got a deal for you."

Sam yelped as the claw aimed for her chest, grabbing it and trying to keep it from impaling her.

"I'm gonna take Sammy down." He was? "She's gonna put you back on your feet. And you're gonna take this," he pulled something from his pocket. A key? "—And get the hell out of here. Fair?"

She clutched at the pincer, struggling with all she had. "Fuck— take the fucking deal, Jeff!"

Jeff nodded.

Notes: Didn't do anything amazing with researching builds for this, Frank was just being a toxic guy in general. (But if you're curious I think I decided it was Enduring, Thanatophobia, Nemesis, and Hangman's Trick. I think. Definitely Nemesis and Thana. I feel like I'm caring less about game accuracy and more about interesting narrative as time goes on ^^' ) So yeah. Frank's a massive dick this trial. Really just the absolute worst. Next chapter will finish this trial up. Feel free to leave your thots ^^