20. Can You Hear Me

After being betrayed by Evan, Meg spent her time by the campfire mulling over theories and trying to figure out what the hell was going on. It was clear the Entity was attempting to fight back - but what was its true endgame? What were the killers going to do - what was their next move? When she'd come to a few conclusions and felt she had some information to share, she took advantage of one of the few moments where the survivors were all around the campfire to get their attention.

Everyone was silent as Meg explained her theories - and though it was painful, she shared the news about Evan, as well. Jake's face in particular grew dark as she told them all how the hulking man had decided to help the Entity, even though it was to spare her life. "Once a killer, always a killer," he muttered angrily, and Meg couldn't help but feel an instinctual pang of defensiveness on Evan's behalf - although she herself felt just as betrayed as the rest of them, if not more so.

"Let's go back for a bloody fockin' second," David growled from his spot beside Dwight. "Fockin' garbage killers are groupin' up to keep us all 'ere, eh? What's the point? They wanna get outta this bloody hellhole too, right?"

Dwight piped up, looking unsure. "M-Maybe they don't," he said, much more quietly than the man he was linked to. "O-Or at least some of them don't…" Meg's eyes went to the red string between them, pulsing with life. She didn't even need to see a red string to know the two were bonded, though. They always had been, in a strange way.

"I've already guessed that much," Meg replied, focusing on the problem at hand. "I think for a few of them… well - a place to kill, to do what they love most, without any repercussions or consequences… for us it's a nightmare, but for them it's a dream come true. They want to stay here - because if they go back to the real world with us…"

"It's off to jail for those morons," Jake finished.

"Exactly." Meg's expression was grim. "They're the ones who are going to keep playing these games as usual. To try and give the Entity back its power - because like I said earlier… the chaos we are causing… the merging of the realms… I think it's all because our rebellion is weakening it. There's too many of us - it can't control us anymore."

"So how do we fight this?" Zarina asked, clutching her hands together. "And who are we fighting? Which killers are helping us and which are fighting us?"

"I know the Clown is in on it," Meg said, glancing hesitantly at Nea, who was stone-faced. "I saw him do… well. I just know he's one of them."

"G-Ghostface attacked me several times," Dwight added.

"And now we know the Trapper is a fucking traitor and can't be trusted," Jake finished, causing Meg to flinch. She couldn't help the pain that filled her chest at the mention of Evan and his betrayal - no matter how noble the reason might've been.

But was it noble? Or was it just some selfish ploy to keep her here with him?

The campfire shuddered, drawing the eyes of all the present survivors. "The Entity can't keep us here forever," Nea said. "It's weakening. Losing its grip on this… whatever it is."

"Maybe this was inevitable," Quentin suddenly murmured. "It could be that the Entity was never going to be able to hold on forever. Maybe these red strings were unanticipated and they're… speeding up the process."

Meg's brows rose. The theory about the Entity's power being finite was disturbing enough, but the red strings too? She'd always thought the red strings were just a side effect of all the craziness going on. But could Quentin be right? Could they be important to ending this hell, once and for all? "So what do you think we should do?" She asked. Quentin was quiet, awkward sometimes, but he was extremely smart and kind and she trusted his opinion highly.

Quentin deliberated, and everyone waited. Meg's thoughts remained on Quentin, though - and admiration swelled in her chest. He was unendingly kind, almost to a fault, often sacrificing himself just so others could survive. He was always looking for ways to help or make things easier for the group; because of Quentin, everyone knew the recipe for Claudette's salve. He'd been the one to ask her for it first so he could make some to heal Yui's wounds during a trial. Meg still remembered the time he snatched an old iPod from Haddonfield just because Jeff had talked about missing his favorite band, Pantera. Quentin was so shy and tired that he was often overlooked and unnoticed (by everyone except Kate), but Meg knew the truth - he was brave, he was smart, and he was selfless.

Just as Quentin opened his mouth with a game plan, something shocking happened right before the group's very eyes: a red string sprouted from Meg's chest, connecting to Quentin's.

Before anyone could comment, the fire in the middle of the campsite roared, flickered, then puttered out, leaving them all in darkness. "Bloody fockin' hell," David muttered.

"I've got a flashlight from the last trial," Yui said, and after a moment a beam of light clicked on, partially illuminating the group. From her spot beside Zarina, Yui continued, "do we think the red strings caused that, too?"

Meg could barely see Quentin, mostly just the outline of his figure as he sat nearby, but she could tell his thoughtful blue-green eyes were on her, and hadn't moved from her since the string appeared. She didn't know what to make of the information, either - confusion settled in her chest, refusing to dissipate. While numerous red strings had appeared between survivors and killers, Meg hadn't seen any red string appear between herself and anyone but… Evan. She'd entertained the thought that they were unique, different, a bonded pair, but maybe she was wrong. Maybe Evan had been right when he said it didn't really mean anything. Hell, maybe the red string between her and the hulking killer had been a fluke. An accident.

But the feelings were there, weren't they…?

Shaking herself free of the whirling thoughts, the red-head finally addressed the issue at-hand. "S-So what do you think, Quentin…?"

His voice was thoughtful. Pensive. "I think these red strings are responsible for more than we think. Maybe… we shouldn't just focus on destroying everything the Entity has created. Maybe we... should also make more of these red strings. If we can."

"How?" Feng Min asked the question on everyone's minds.

"Well… we don't even know what the red strings mean," Meg answered hesitantly.

"In all the research I did back home, red strings always meant the same cliche: destiny," Quentin responded quietly. "Maybe it's something similar here. Maybe those who are connected have some sort of destiny together. Something to keep them from being apart."

Meg's brows furrowed. "Like… attachment?"

Claudette piped up, surprising everyone in the group. "R-Romantic attachment?"

For some reason the idea made Meg's mouth go dry for a multitude of reasons. Firstly her thoughts went to Quentin and the string currently connecting their hearts; he wasn't a bad looking guy, and he had many admirable traits. Was Meg romantically attracted to him? And how would that affect her friendship with Kate, who was also connected to Quentin?

Furthermore… was she romantically inclined toward Evan, as well?

Meg knew the answer to that question, though she dared not say it, not even to herself. That was a dead road. It had been closed by Evan's actions. She wouldn't be speaking to him ever again. Wouldn't be touching him. Hugging him. That thought settled a heavy weight in her chest.

"It doesn't have to be romantic, I don't think," Quentin responded, shifting around. "I mean… do you have romantic feelings toward the Hillbilly, Claudette?"

Claudette's awkward silence told the group her answer. Quiet reigned for a few moments, not even the crackle of the fire present to fill the silence. Finally, Jake muttered, "how many people here wanna fuck the killers? I just want to know."

"Aren't you connected to that Legion girl?" Nea challenged.

"That doesn't mean I like her!"

"But I've seen you talking to her when you didn't have to," Nea countered. "So you must at least want to be her friend or something."

Silence again.

The gears in Meg's brain began grinding and turning. Though her own chest felt immeasurable heavy with the weight of the knowledge of the group's predicament, Meg also felt a little twinge of hope. She had an idea. And it would be absolutely insane, and it likely wouldn't work… but there was a chance it would. "You look like you've got something on your mind, Meg," Quentin said encouragingly.

"Well… I've got an idea. And it's insane, yeah, but hear me out," she responded, focusing on the group as a whole - mainly the light of the flashlight in Yui's hands. "Many of us have connections to each other already - and a few of us have connections to killers," she continued, gesturing to Nea, Claudette, Feng Min, Jake, and herself. "And we've already seen that a few of the killers want to get out of here just as badly… so maybe if we approached some of them… as a, uhm… friend… maybe it'll…"

"Approaching bloody killers as friends?" David snarled. "The fock makes ya think they're on our bloody side? Just cause they wanna leave this shit'ole too?"

"I'm not asking you all to go and hold hands," Meg snapped back, putting her hands on her hips irritably. "I'm just wondering if a nonviolent approach will create more of the red strings. We've already seen a few of them act ambivalent… even benevolent toward us. I think it's possible!"

"Oh yeah? Like tha bloody Trapper cunt?" David growled, standing up from his spot. "Ya trusted 'im and look where that fockin' got ya, Red. He's workin' with the rest of those cunts to keep us all 'ere."

Meg grit her teeth. "Fine. Do what you want, David. I'm not saying everything is sunshine and rainbows, and I'm not asking you to go up and kiss one of them."

"Then what are you saying, Meg?" Nea pressed.

"I'm saying this is our only shot."

So far, only one killer really seemed to be on their side: the Wraith, or Philip as Nea had come to call him. Over the campfire (which still flickered weakly, occasionally going completely out) one night, Nea had told them all what she'd managed to take away from the bell-ringing killer's broken speech during a trial; that he'd come to America for a better life, taken a job at Autohaven Wreckers, and unknowingly buried and crushed bodies for his boss for months on end. Azarov, his boss, was the real villain all along.

And Philip went crazy with the knowledge that he was a murderer, willing or not. The deed that had landed him in the Fog was killing his own boss for forcing him to take part in creating a graveyard out of the junkyard. Meg felt sympathy for him. Out of all the killers in this realm, Philip truly didn't belong here. He was just as much a victim as any of the survivors - which begged the question… how many of the killers were truly innocent?

So far, from their limited knowledge, the Wraith was the only one.

As Meg landed in the soft grass of the Yamaoka Estate, she took in her surroundings and could tell the Entity was really struggling: pieces of the estate were missing, the sky was a strange dark orange color, and the crows were missing. Not a single eerie caw was heard.

Meg quickly found Yui, who was wandering toward the gigantic stone shrine in the middle of the map; where, or even who the other two survivors were, Meg had no idea, but they'd group up soon enough. The important thing was to find out who the killer (or killers) was, and try Meg's idea, which, Meg herself had to admit, was insane.

And she quickly realized just how insane it was when she realized who the killer was: the Oni.

Oddly enough, the normally rage-filled killer was at the very top of the stone shrine, sitting on his legs with his hands placed firmly on his knees. He sat stiff-backed like a samurai, his whole body rigid as his ghostly white hair floated on absent wind. He didn't even seem to recognize their presence as Yui and Meg came to the top of the steps, pausing on the edge of the shrine.

"He knows we're here, right?" Meg whispered.

Yui squinted, her expression pensive. "He came into the Fog with me," she replied cryptically. "I think he always knows where I am."

"How?"

"It's… a feeling." Yui seemed to brace herself for something, then took a few slow, cautious steps forward - but she did not broach the actual floor of the shrine, and when Meg went to follow, Yui put an arm up to block her. At Meg's questioning look, she murmured, "it's a sign of respect. We don't want to get off on the wrong foot."

As Yui approached, her hands were put up in a defensive gesture, as if trying to show him she meant peace. Meg hung back, watching. Yui, having come from Japan, obviously knew more about their traditions and customs. Meg watched the motorcyclist get down on one knee, bowing respectfully to the beast of a man. Meg thought it was an awful lot of ass-kissing for a murderous brute, but she said nothing. If this would get him to help them out, then she was all for it. "Konbanwa," Yui said softly.

The Oni said nothing, didn't even move - which was wholly unnerving. Meg was so used to the undying rage, the terrible roars, the glowing red eyes… here, she saw nothing but a hulking, monstrous man on his knees, almost as if asking for repentance. Yui took another step, still never breaching the sanctity of the shrine. "Eigo o hanasemasu ka?"

Meg herself inched forward nervously, staying behind Yui. "W-What are you saying to him?"

"Asking if he speaks English," Yui responded, eyes never leaving the killer. Addressing him again, she continued, "Watashi no namae wa Yui desu. O-namae wa nan desu ka?"

Finally the Oni turned his head, his signature red mask meeting the gaze of the two women. Meg could see those red eyes glowing behind the mask and she froze in her place, her heart hammering wildly in her chest. Bravely, she mumbled, "can you understand us? We don't mean you any harm."

"Wakarimasu." The Oni's voice was deep, gravelly, almost inhuman. Monstrous and rich. A chill ran down Meg's spine. She wasn't sure what to expect from the killer when she'd never heard a single word from him other than the demonic roars he expelled when chasing them in a murderous rage, but nothing could have prepared her for this.

Yui seemed equally startled. When Meg asked her what he'd said, she was too focused on trying to respond to him to answer her. "Kore wa nan desu ka?" she asked, gesturing to the shrine around them.

His eyes moved, but his head did not. His hands hadn't lifted from his lap, but Meg kept a constant eye on the katana on his back. She didn't want to be close in case he decided to attack. "The shrine of my family," he finally replied. Meg noticed how his glowing eyes followed their every movement, analyzing them thoroughly; watching, like a hawk. For what?

Then a realization smacked Meg in the face. Yamaoka. If this was his family's shrine, he was a Yamaoka. Which meant somehow, he was related to the… Spirit.

When the Oni turned his gaze back to the statue before him, Yui glanced back at Meg. "He is making sure we show the proper respect," she said, her expression grim. There was a careful note in her voice, as if one wrong word would ruin everything. "A samurai demands respect. For he is noble, and strong."

The Oni stirred. Meg could practically see the muscles in his legs and arms and stomach ripple as he clambered to his feet, his floating white hair fluttering with each movement. As he turned his attention on them once more, Yui's posture straightened and Meg stayed behind her, too frightened of screwing up to make any more brave attempts on her own. "Justice. Courage. Mercy. Politeness. Honesty. Honor…"

"And loyalty," Yui finished, bowing her head before glancing back at Meg to explain. "Bushido. The code of the samurai." At Meg's questioning look, she shrugged. "It's important in our culture." Turning her attention back up to the Oni, she kept her voice meek. "All samurai know and follow the code. That's all you've ever tried to do. Right, Yamaoka-sama…?"

Suddenly, it happened again. 'It' being the creation of another red string. It zipped right from the Oni's chest to Yui's, and right on time, the map shuddered, warping slightly around them as if the magic keeping it together was weakening. As if it wasn't already all around them, Meg could see proof of Quentin's smarts right before her very eyes. He was right. The red strings, the connections between people, were weakening the Entity. But why? It fed off their fear, she knew that much, but the presence of the red strings didn't change that. They were all still terrified. A part of her always felt like she would be… even after she got out of this place.

Either way, it seemed to be working, and she silently cheered at the fact that the Oni seemed to be somewhat docile for the moment, if that was even a word that could ever be used to describe the brute. He merely eyed the string, seeming curious while Yui looked almost mortified. Trying her best to mimic the submissive body language Yui had been clever enough to use, Meg attempted to step in. "You want to go home, right? Really go home… right?"

When the Oni turned his attention on her, Meg tensed up, every muscle in her body screaming at her to run. Things might've been crazy, and the lines between friend and foe were somewhat blurred, but he was still a vicious killer with a brutal past, and Meg wasn't going to forget that anytime soon. He wasn't like some of the others; like the Wraith or… Evan.

Then again, Meg shuddered as she remembered, Evan was a mindless horrible killer at one point, too - and she wasn't sure whether that had really changed, given her current situation. No, she banished the thought immediately; despite everything that was going on, despite the decisions he'd made and the side he'd chosen, despite Meg never wanting to speak to him again, she knew for a fact that there was some good inside him, some regret for the things he'd done, some desire to repent. To make amends. He was like a child in many ways.

Why was she thinking about him now, of all times? So distracted was the red-head that she barely even noticed the rumbling of the shrine over their heads. Within seconds, it began to crumble. As it crashed down over them, Meg felt Yui slam against her in an attempt to knock them both out of the way - and as the girls crumpled to the ground, they could hear the enraged roars of the Oni. This rage, Meg thought, is justified. This was his home - or at least a shallow imitation of it - and it was all he had left. Meg lifted her head, ignoring the aches clawing their way up her body from the impact, and saw the red smoke wafting from amidst the rubble.

The Oni was trapped inside it.

Was this… purposeful? Had the Entity, in its desperation to keep control, trapped the killer in the wreckage to prevent him from helping the survivors? While Meg had never been too sure about the intelligence of the Entity, it had been smart enough to bring them all here, make shallow replicas of their homes, and even provide them with items. Like a Roman dominus providing swords and shields for his gladiators.

Before Meg could deliberate long on it, she felt the familiar spidery legs of the Entity itself wrapping around her body forcefully. On instinct she kicked and squirmed and cried out, but Yui was unconscious and the Oni was too busy smashing his way out of the broken shrine to offer any help.

Further into the tumbling ground Meg went, until everything faded to black.

"If you think that my life is worth more than our freedom, you're more of a monster than I ever imagined."

Those words bounced around in Evan's head on an infinite loop of self-hatred. He couldn't pretend his intentions were noble. He wanted Meg alive not because it was better for her… but because he wanted it. He was a monster. There was no taking that back or denying it. But everyone, even monsters, had decisions to make.

Was he making the right one?

No, Evan immediately thought as he stepped onto the soft grass of the Yamaoka Estate. Not too far off, he could hear glass breaking and see yellow gas wafting into the sky. At one time it would have been surprising to see Jeffrey here, but not now. Things were falling apart, the survivors were rebelling, and only a few killers still tried to keep any semblance of order.

Evan would do his job. He would hunt. But not Meg; never Meg. And the others knew to keep their distance, too.

He heard the cracking of the Clown's bottles in a corner of the estate, but no screams. We're there any survivors here at all? Could he simply sit back and let Jeffrey wreak his havoc, or would he have to dirty his own hands, again, with the blood of Meg's friends?

A trap in one hand, his cleaver in the other, Evan set out across the map to hunt. Perhaps if he killed the survivors himself, he could spare them from the cruelty of Jeffrey's blade. He would kill them quickly, precisely, with as little pain as possible.

But would the Entity, who thrived on fear and hopelessness, accept that?

Perhaps there was no middle line for him to walk. Perhaps he really would have to choose - one team, or the other. He thought he'd made his choice. But hesitation stayed his hand, and he couldn't figure out why.

From his spot Evan could see the shrine in the middle of the estate - which meant he bore full witness to its collapse. The scream he heard intermingled with the cacophony of the destruction perked his attention and immediately he hastened forward.

Meg was there. He wouldn't give the Clown a chance to get anywhere near her. The next sound filled the beast of a man with confusion; it was none other than the enraged roar of the Oni, coming from the same building. Three killers in one area? And possibly only one survivor? And that survivor was Meg?

His walk broke into an outright run as he dropped the trap in his left hand to free himself of the extra weight. He wouldn't need a trap to best the Oni, and certainly not Jeffrey. The fat asshole had very little going for him other than his size and his poison. As he raced toward the shrine, however, his arms and legs suddenly filled with lead and he couldn't seem to go any faster despite his efforts - because he watched the spidery legs of the Entity grab Meg… and drag her into the ground. Before Evan could even get through the tall grass or stomp his way through the babbling brook to reach the crumbling shrine, Meg was gone.

Gone.

Evan finally pushed forward and climbed up the stone steps, hopping over pieces of splintered wood and rubble. Meg was gone, but another girl laid amongst the wreckage, unconscious. Evan toed at her with his boot urgently. "Where is Meg?" He demanded desperately, unsure why he was even asking. He knew exactly what happened to Meg. The Entity had taken her.

As he waited he kept an eye on the big pile of rubble in the middle of the shrine - and the Oni currently buried beneath it. The beast had gone quiet, which was never a good sign. He'd received no answer from the girl, either. He nudged her again, harder this time, and repeated his demand, knowing good and well she couldn't give him what he wanted.

Evan began to recognize the strange pain in his chest and it gave him mixed emotions. What he was feeling in the wake of Meg's sudden disappearance was panic.

The girl began to stir. Her initial reaction to seeing Evan standing over her was fear, but it eased into cautious optimism. "You're the one Meg likes," she replied, still shaking off her confusion. "I don't know where she went. Everything happened so fast…"

He lingered on the words "the one Meg likes" for only a few moments before the panic swelled in his chest. On instinct, he went over to the spot Meg was taken and began hammering at it with his cleaver, ripping up grass and soil - to no avail. It was only when Meg's friend let out a whimper of fright and scurried back that Evan realized he'd been roaring in anger the entire time. Meg was gone. He had no control over her well-being. There was nothing he could do now to save her or protect her. The Entity would do with her what it wanted - whether that was to send her back to the real world, to keep her trapped in a cage forever, or to kill her for good.

And Evan would never see her again.

Finally he stopped, dropped the cleaver with a heavy thud, and stared at the ground he'd just ruined. "Wait," the other girl said from his left. He turned his head to watch her. The disorientation from her fall seemed to have cleared and she was glaring at him. "The others said you betrayed us. Betrayed Meg. Let Nea die a terrible death!"

He merely stared, shoulders slumping. "Yes," he whispered.

Though she was still frightened enough to keep her distance, and still angry enough to glare daggers into his skull, there was something in her expression that had changed. "This whole thing has been some crazy acid trip. Killers and survivors, all becoming connected by these red strings… the Entity losing control of its own world… it all started with Meg - and, I guess, you too. Do we have any hope of getting the hell out of here, or is this just some big fluke? Do you really, truly care about her? If you care so much, why did you betray her? Betray us all?"

Evan stiffened. How could he answer that? He hadn't cared about another human being in a long, long time. He knew the answer, deep in his heart, but he'd done too many terrible things to come back from. He didn't deserve the happiness that being with Meg offered. The shadows were his home. Being a monster was his fate.

He couldn't care for Meg. He wasn't supposed to.

Before Evan had a chance to respond, a bottle crashed into the debris around them and they both breathed in the toxic fumes before they could stop themselves. Evan coughed out the gunk and breathed into the gas mask attached to his overalls, letting the confusion clear from his brain before making any moves. On instinct he stepped between the girl and the approaching figure - Jeffrey. But the rotund killer clucked his tongue and smacked his lips, twirling his little knife between his fat gloved fingers. "Now ye wouldn't be protectin' one of the little mice we're supposed to kill now would ya, Trapper…?"

Evan flinched. He'd made his choice, right? He'd chosen to kill. He'd chosen to continue serving the Entity. So why did a sudden memory flash through his mind? Meg finding him in the Entity's clutches… tending to his wounds. Things changed that day. He couldn't deny it. But that had been Meg's doing, not his own.

But did that mean he didn't have the power to affect change?

Before Evan could decide whether to step aside or stand his ground, a sudden roar came from the shrine's rubble, followed instantaneously by an explosion that sent stone and wood flying everywhere. Evan stumbled backwards and the girl screamed as she toppled over the edge of the tower - managing to grab onto the ledge to prevent falling completely. The red blur that flew from the rubble attacked the Clown with a fury that sent them both tumbling down the stairs of the shrine, rolling across the ground.

Only one of the two killers stood up - the Oni, eyes glowing red with absolute fury. Though Evan matched him in height and size inch for inch, even he was filled with apprehension at the sight of the beast's flowing, ghostly hair, heaving bare chest, and the monstrous red glow surrounding him. Kazan was his name if Evan remembered correctly - Kazan Yamaoka.

Kazan turned toward them, eyes flickering between Evan, who was stunned, and the girl, who was hanging from the ledge and watching them with wide eyes. Kazan Yamaoka, the volatile beast who let his blind rage control his every action, had just saved the life of a survivor, and was now staring at Evan with a piercing gaze. Though Evan had the high ground and Kazan stood far below, he had never felt smaller.

When the Oni spoke, he felt like he'd been punched in the gut.

"You," Kazan said gruffly as he stood over Jeffrey's body, pointing an accusing finger at Evan, "You have no honor."