Meg had always wondered about the killers, much of her free time was consumed simply in her own head. It wasn't like there was much else to do in the entity's realm.
The thoughts occupied her and kept her away from the miserable circumstances of the entity's realm, at least partly. But the most frequent question, and subsequently the one with the most curiously leeched onto it, was about the humanity of their killers.
Meg knew very well that many of them had once been human, many still were even if in physicality only. Of course there were the strange alien like killers and those among the most monstrous.
But Meg continuously wondered if any of them still had human emotions beyond sadistic pleasure in killing. Not many seemed to fit the bill, however some were much less brutal than others, or just hid their enjoyment well.
The only reason the survivors knew that Michael was by far the worst killer there was because Laurie had experience running from him in her past life.
Meg could still distinctly remember the feeling of chills when the blonde had recited Dr Loomis' description of his history as Michael's caretaker. The nurture vs nature debate came to her mind, and Meg still firmly believed that no matter a persons nature that someone could change for the better. That they could see someone else as a role model of what was right.
Most who agreed with her however, might say that Michael was just too evil to change.
Yet despite Michael's reputation, Meg still couldn't shake a feeling in her chest that he was more than the white mask.
So were the other killers more than their grotesque appearance?
The ones that the survivors only had vague hints to regarding their history were a mystery. Particularly the oldest killers. The Trapper, Wraith, Hillbilly, Nurse, Huntress, Doctor, and the Hag. Virtually nothing concrete was known about them, and all of the veteran survivors including Meg herself never knew their respective killers before the fog. But the other survivors would just argue she didn't have a specific killer like Bill didn't.
Sure some newer survivors didn't know their killers in their past lives, many simply because the killers had long since been taken by the fog before the survivors even drew their first breath.
However Dwight, Claudette, Jake, and herself had arrived at the same time, equally confused, untrusting, and terrible at trials. For a while they were the only four, breaks were scarce, death and failure were frequent, and success or freedom seemed impossible. The latter still did, even after so long.
The Trapper, Wraith, and Hillbilly had been as inexperienced at the game as the survivors, it had turned into a limbo of both sides improving, giving the illusion that nothing changed at all.
Both gathering more knowledge of how to best play the game and counteract each other.
Games of the original four vs one of the original three were beyond rare, only one had occurred since Ghost Face arrived.
And the concept of "respective killers" hadn't even been a thing yet, there was three known killers and four survivors, only when Nea and the nurse showed up was it first thought of. And only after David showed up was it made official.
No one knew who's respective survivors the original killers were. Nea had the Nurse, Feng had the Doctor, Ace had the Hag, and David had the Huntress.
However Bill and one of the original survivors didn't have a respective killer. Though it was widely believed the first four did.
Meg always wondered if they even had respective killers at all, if the original three were just independent in their own unique way.
But Meg burned with curiosity to know, she wanted to know the past of the Trapper, the Wraith, and the Hillbilly, wanted to know if they still had some humanity left in them or anything they might have to help them get out.
But that was a dangerous path, they were the most experienced, despite their being older killers like the plague. They were the best, they got the most perfect games, they were the hardest to loose. They were the most terrifying to all but the most fearless.
Like her.
More time spent in the fog and non stop trials in the beginning meant she and her friends knew each map and could maneuver them blind.
The scariest thing to Meg about the trio was that their abilities weren't as outright powerful as the nurse or Michael, but took more skill and risk.
But they had long since perfected their abilities.
Every survivor could attest to the dread of facing one of them, even despite the Nurse being a killer with by far the most powerful ability with some creativity and mastery, it didn't compare to waking up to see a disarmed bear trap in front of them.
You could never predict where the traps were, you'd never be able to juke the hillbilly and no matter how hard you looked the wraith would evade your sight until he was right behind you.
Her friends could do rather well against the original three, but even so, it was just a matter of time.
The original four were the only ones who could flawlessly beat them anymore. If there were any others but them, those others would die. Of course that wasn't to say that they always did fantastically, sometimes the original four would all get caught, but it wasn't a guarantee of death like it was for all others.
It was sick in a way, that the four knew the trio so well that only they could ever escape them without sacrifice. Some twisted form of a bond or relatability.
Meg had at first, unintentionally created a hierarchy system when the newer survivors started arriving. Nea, Feng, Bill, Ace, and David were for the most part, exceptions.
They were veterans in their own right, although there was an unspoken acknowledgement of the original four's skill. Borderline mastery that surpassed their friends.
This system was purely on skill and experience, that how and Meg didn't expect many others to be able to earn her endearment like her friends had.
Then Kate showed up, she was the least experienced in her friend group but certainly the heart of it.
She was among the "exceptions" as Meg would refer to them, giggling in her head at how silly it sounded.
But this system was really to help maintain her and the other three original's sanity.
Claudette was sweet, smart, caring, a great medic, and among the most intelligent of all survivors. Jake was the survivalist, having a more practical skill set of survival and evading an incoming predator. Dwight, and maybe Adam, were Claudettes biggest contender for smartest survivor, while having been borderline unable to function from nervousness at first, he had retained his shyness but was more than able to do what ever it took to survive and help his friends.
The four of them were "the originals" as dubbed by Nea, who refused to call them otherwise.
Little Swedish brat knew exactly what she was doing.
Some survivors were...not as trust worthy as others, unlike the beanie loving punk.
Meg just wrote it off as not knowing them as well, she hadn't spent as long suffering trials with them. Hadn't gotten to speak with any of them or learn who they are as intimately as the oldest survivors. Thankfully nearly ever single one of the other survivors were approachable people, even if their beliefs and motivations weren't well known.
Adams natural liking of kids made him very approachable to nearly all the girls, Jeff had interesting stories of art, and new ones since he was forced to branch out and rely almost entirely upon wood carving.
But they still weren't explicitly friends, conflicting opinions backed by stubbornness bred from fear and pain was a tough barrier to crack.
The newest survivors were always the worst, even people like Adam had been an absolute pain to reason with when they first arrived. Too much Hysteria and disbelief it clouded the senses.
So Meg subconsciously created her hierarchy system, simple psychology created a complex around the originals that they were the most experienced, and therefor had a say in almost everything important. They were looked up to for the most part, sometimes even by those older than them.
Pride and the hierarchy of age wasn't a thing anymore, well that was slightly untrue. Meg would never tell the newer survivors but she had a soft spot for Bill and Ace, often taking their advice over her own judgement...
She took Bill's advice over her own judgement.
Her friends would never let it spill because they all did too.
Perhaps pride still did exist, but being brutally tortured and killed certainly was humbling, especially when everyone else you knew had gone through it too. That didn't mean they still didn't have dignity and decency. Only the clown would ever take it far enough as to make them feel violated. Only he attacked that part of them, not even The Shape went that far.
Thankfully the system kept the new survivors from doing something too stupid, such as causing unnecessary fights among themselves, and even then it was only so effective.
But the dread that settled in Meg's stomach wouldn't leave no matter how long she waited or how hard she tried to distract herself. These newest survivors made her nervous.
A natural rebellion for authority to the point of stupidity, normally that wouldn't be enough to worry Meg, Nea was like that, but these newer survivors didn't just spray paint graffiti on old abandoned buildings. Nor did they show a capacity for maturing like Nea eventually did as well.
These people wouldn't let much slip about their personal backstories, but they were more than willing to let information about the others slip.
Felix new quite a lot about Elodie and the same onto him.
Elodie was obsessed with finding her parents, having largely gotten her answer from her own kidnapping, but she was a cultist. Much more willing to push the limits of legality to get what she wanted.
Felix was not that, an architect, actually a rather unique and interesting career. Respectable even.
At least to Meg, but he was on the selfish side, less prone to instantly start planning the best way to help a survivor who was downed or hooked.
It wasn't even a smart hesitation like with Feng. Where the Asian knew that if she didn't finish the generator she was on before saving someone that she could doom them both. So she'd get that done before saving them, buy them all some breathing room at the cost of her friend staying on the hook for an extra twenty seconds.
No Felix didn't have that instant instinct to save her friends, more likely to get the gate open and taunt the killer while a survivor hung or bled out on the grass.
He had his moments, most of them had been not long after he arrived. Whether out of compassion or thinking he'd survive longer or entirely if there was one more person to take the killers attention away from himself. It was still appreciated.
Felix and Elodie had known each other since they were kids, only separating for a few years before both being taken. They had rather quickly bonded with Yun Jin-Lee.
She too hadn't been forthcoming with her own past, they did know she was connected to the trickster, in something more than just being each other's respective counterparts. Yun Jin had let it slip that once the trickster was a musician and that Yun Jin had been his manager. However there seemed to be more than just that.
She hadn't worked with him for very long apparently, claiming to have moved on after she got suspicious of him.
But the three of them were unusual around each other, all three had the hesitance to save others if it risked their own survival, but apparently it didn't apply to each other. More than willing to turn around and work with others if it meant saving their "friend".
But the feeling of dread never lifted at seeing them selflessly risk themselves for their obvious friends. It only seemed to grow, insidious, yet painfully obvious, almost literally.
All these reminiscent memories and thoughts swirled inside Meg's head, draped in a naturally ruby red curtain of hair. Unfortunately it lacked its usual glossy luster after an unknown to her amount of time in the trials. Perpetually dampened with the even darker shade of crimson blood and black dirt.
Her eyes opened, crystal blue in a sharp contrast to her hair, snapping every which way in a calculated yet paranoid manner.
It wouldn't have been the first time a killer and survivor spawned almost on top of each other.
She stepped forward, going in a small circle looking for a generator. She found one quickly, choosing the easiest side to reach a loop from and getting to work.
No one else joined her, so she was most likely alone for now.
Hopefully she'd get a short break and wouldn't have to worry about the killer and be able to get the gen done in one shot.
Hopefully she wasn't stuck with Yun Jin and her gang either.
Perhaps she could just do all the gens and ignore them for the whole trial. Between the three of them they'd be able to distract the killer for five gens if they had a little bit of luck.
Her eyes rows unconsciously furrowed at her own thoughts, yes the three could be selfish in trials and even insufferable outside of them, but she wasn't one to wish death upon others.
'It takes a monster to know one'
Meg almost screamed at hearing the voice through the fog. She didn't thankfully, Jakes teaching of an iron will saving her from being hunted, at least in a traditional sense.
It didn't stop her from violently flinching as if struck and whirling around in a panic, heart racing and blood roaring.
But the silence of the forest in response was almost deafening.
There were not survivors, there were no killers, only the cold, damp, and empty visage that she remained in.
Perhaps visage was not the proper term, facade, that's the one.
Meg settled, briefly questioning if she had been shocked by the Doctor into insanity and was hearing things. She couldn't remember any electricity in this trial, but his electroshock therapy liked to mess with their memory, forgetting which survivors they were with, who was chasing them, how many generators or survivors still remained.
But no, she couldn't hear any more voices or see anything unusual, the doctor didn't suddenly appear staring at her, and working on the generator felt normal.
So she settled back to just that, pondering over what she had heard.
She wasn't a monster, she loved her new family, that couldn't be called into question. And even if she was with survivors that weren't family, she still cared about them. They had to stick together, couldn't give up hope, it was all they had left anymore.
The generator sprung to life, now exposed and in bright flood lights she crept to the nearby trees of the Macmillan Estate.
Her heart beat never sped up, so she should have been safe, although it could have been a stealth killer.
At the thought she scanned the area around her, searching for the crouched form of The Pig or Ghost face, the expressionless mask of Michael. Or worst of them all, the shimmering form of the invisible Wraith.
Seeing nothing, but still as nervous as ever, she continued to wander through the trees looking for another generator, or a teammate.
The continued repetition of these trials was getting to her, voices speaking to her from the fog, no teammates around, no known killer in the match either.
What was happening, she didn't know. She knew she had circled the entire map now, She knew the Macmillan estate better than any other map and here she was , reduced to going in circles both figuratively and literally.
Not a single other generator was done with the exception of the one she had started on, there was just nothing.
Until she heard footsteps, right behind her.
Almost screaming a second time she whirled around to see a female figure of her own stature right behind her.
Same height, same build, even a similar posture and manner in which she carried herself.
Well, this figure was standing up right, unafraid of the potential danger this realm had, while she was hunched and about to sprint for the hills.
But when Meg noticed all the blood and ash over the girls clothes she soon realized that the girl had no reason to fear a killer. Who would if they already were one.
Blue skinny jeans, what looked like a T shirt collar poked above a red and black hoodie with a large belt and running shoes. Her hands were hidden in the long sleeves of her hoodie, the hood pulled up hiding her hair, and a mask covering her face.
The mask had two eye holes and a fang filled smile carved into the wood with cracks running along the entirety of it. The smile only reaching partially through the mask concealing the mouth and jaw behind it.
It was eerily similar to the trappers.
Only this mask had a bright fiery red glow from the cracks and actual fire dimly glowing in the eye holes.
Meg found herself unable to move, her muscles remaining locked in their stationary position.
And there was no heartbeat with this killer, was it a stealth killer? It didn't seem like it, it couldn't be revealed like Ghost face, didn't growl like the wraith and didn't have a distorted appearance like the spirit.
Meg took a hesitant step forward, and so did the figure. It copied the frantic step back that followed as well, perfectly synchronized.
The unearthly whisper from earlier announced itself again, speaking unintelligibly from the distance.
But it seemed the figure didn't like the whisper either, a noticeable tenseness appeared in its frame even if it maintained its copying of Meg's movement.
Examining the new killer closely she saw ash coating the arms and back of the neck on the hoodie the girl was wearing. Blood splattered across the chest and wrists.
The hoodie wasn't massive, falling perfectly to the girls hips, just above a belt, on it was several items, what looked like a heart necklace carved from wood, as well as a few other randomly carved wooden pendants or jewelry.
But on the right hip was what looked like a sword handle, midnight black and missing the blade.
The handle had a guard on it that entirely circled the top of the handle similarly to Ghost face's combat knife, but the blade didn't even look like it had been snapped off. It was just like it was never even there.
Suddenly the figure wasn't mirroring Meg anymore, she just held still, staring.
Meg finally got the courage to try and speak.
"Who are you?" She uttered cautiously, now having backed up further knowing she wouldn't be copied.
Speaking in the trials was for the most part uncommon. The survivors were too afraid to attract any attention from the killer, they could easily gesture to what they needed done to their teammates, and no killer had ever spoken to them. The most any would do was laugh at their suffering.
The girl didn't respond, standing there, tense as ever. She did however extend her hand after a few seconds, her long sleeves being pulled back and exposing her hand.
The entire hand was covered in intense burns, third or fourth degree. A disgusting mess of pink, red, white, and little tiny bits of black into one charred hand.
It didn't look like any stereotypical burned skin. It wasn't like the Trappers left hand that he used to hold his traps, and it didn't look like the burned skin of Darth Vader either. It was covered mostly in pale pink and white that was splashed with red where there was less skin.
Said hand extended towards Meg, fingers uncurling into an open palm, inviting Meg to take the it.
Now Meg was curious about killers and wanted to know about this newest one, but Pinhead had only arrived what felt like days ago so this was unusual. But she was not stupid, even if a killer hand never offered a survivor their hand before like this, it didn't mean that Meg didn't realize it was asking to die.
Meg stepped back, obvious in her refusal of whatever offer the girl had.
Then the whispers from the fog kicked up again, at first, unintelligible and ashy. Then clearer until a single phrase could be heard over and over again.
"You cannot escape your fate"
Then all at once four generators sounded off, the exit gates powered, opened, and the trials faded to black as it ended.
Meg was returned to the campfire where all the others were anxiously waiting.
Survivors usually just woke up splayed on the ground not too far from the survivors, it had always been that way.
So there was definite alarm when Meg was flung out of the air, clipped a tree branch, and then landed within a foot of the campfire, feeling the intense heat and nearly getting burned.
Her friends crowded around her, Claudette immediately checking her for any wounds. Eventually calming down when there was no blood or broken bones, just the usual bruises and scratches.
"Meg what happened! Where were you?" Nea grabbed Meg's shoulders, lightly pulling her away from the campfire.
"You just got pulled into a trial all by yourself without anyone else and-"
"Relax!" Meg held her hands up, waiting until everyone stilled and Nea made it clear she was done talking before standing up.
"Yes, I got pulled into a trial and I'll tell you all about it, but give me a second to breathe, the adrenaline hasn't even worn off yet."
They murmured, backing up a couple of steps, Meg's friends remaining close to her almost like a ring of body guards.
"Ok, so yes, I got pulled into a trial, at first I didn't know I was alone so I fixed a generator and started looking around for anybody else around. I circled the map at least four times before I heard something behind me."
"What was it!?" Some called from the group of survivors, it sounded like Nancy.
Meg couldn't help but smile at her eagerness.
"I'm getting there, I couldn't see their face, they had a mask on, it looked like the Trapper's, but I couldn't see their face through it. They had flaming eyes, it was a girl. Her clothes were covered in blood and ash, and she had weird combat knife handle without a blade."
She was interrupted when Felix's voice rang out from across the group.
"You're telling me there's a new killer already! That pin headed freak only showed up a week or two ago!"
Mummers of equal agreement or outrage could be heard, even among her friends as they whispered to each other and Meg herself as privately as possible. Claudette at the head of it, her other friends letting her take the lead.
"Do you think it's a new killer Meg? What did she do anyway?" The botanist asked.
The strange girls behavior still eluded Meg, the mystery girl was almost like a mocking bird, copying Meg's movement while remaining as skittish and jumpy as a cat, tensed up ready to sprint away.
"She just stood there a few feet away from me, she was staring at me almost...almost like the shape. But she started copying me-"
"What the bloody 'el do you mean she started copying you" David's British accent rang out seemingly louder than he intended. Meg glared at David and just got an apologetic face in return when he realized literally everyone else was looking at them.
"I started to run away from her, but I noticed she wasn't following me, whenever I took a step forward so did she, perfectly synchronized like I was looking at myself from the outside. I tried a few more things and she copied them all. But right before it ended I saw a fog appear in the trees, I think it was the Entity. The girl looked like she wanted to run for her life, but she held her hand out towards me."
She paused to take a deep breath, and to let the others ask questions.
Bill spoke up, monotone, but Meg could see he was slightly leaning, ever so slightly.
"What did she say." A gruff hoarse question, it was a miracle he hadn't gotten lung cancer, even with the Entity's apparent healing powers.
"She didn't say anything, but I heard whispers from the fog when I refused to take her hand, I couldn't really tell what they were saying, it didn't even sound like a human language. But I did was able to make out one thing, It said 'You cannot escape your fate'. Then I heard all the generators and gates turn on at once and the trial ended."
The campfire was silent, everyone pondering over what they heard, and Meg could only agonize in her mind at what they all thought and what they'd do.