24. Closing In
Quentin watched Cheryl crumble, clutching her hair and dissolving into a fit of tears. They had finally been able to make their way to Midwich Elementary, but none of the secrets the school had to offer seemed to help multiply or expand her powers. They'd tried to reach Meg once again, to no avail.
Quentin set a hand on her shoulder, and the reassuring motion seemed to ground her. "Don't blame yourself," he said softly.
"I feel so useless," Cheryl spat.
"If anyone should feel useless, it's me," Quentin replied with a half-smile. "You're doing all the hard work here. I'm just keeping an eye out for any threats. And that's… not a hard job, considering the big guy keeps patrolling the place almost religiously."
"It's still so strange to see him as an ally." Cheryl looked down at the book in her lap, sniffling slightly and composing herself. "Even though there are many legends about Pyramid Head in Silent Hill - all of them varying from villain to god to simply jailer - I had always known he had some sort of fucked up moral compass. But still, after being sent to his cages countless times, this new relationship is…"
"... a lot to get used to," Quentin agreed with a nod. "Well… if these books don't hold the clues, what will?"
Cheryl sighed, staring down at the pages before her. Something caught her eye and she jabbed one of the pages with her finger, visibly excited. "The seal of Metatron," she exclaimed. "The cult crazies back in Silent Hill worshipped this thing. It's connected to their 'god.' It's also connected to me. I'll bet I can - "
" - use it to amplify your power," Quentin finished, and the two shared a grin. "Does the book tell us where to find it?"
"No, and since it's an amulet, I have no idea where it was even brought along with the school. It could have been anywhere else. There is no guarantee it's here."
Quentin considered for a moment. "Wait," he finally spoke up. "Is that big bloody symbol in the courtyard the same as the one on the amulet?"
Cheryl perked up. "You're a damn genius, Quentin!" The appreciative tone in her voice made his pale cheeks flush with heat. "I mean I can't know for sure that it will work, but we may as well try it. Everyone is depending on us."
Quentin stood, brushing the muck off his jeans and offering Cheryl his hand. She took it, and their hands remained linked as they snuck out of a classroom on the upper floor. Even with the Executioner shuffling around diligently, this place was dangerous and they could never be too careful.
The walk downstairs seemed to take forever, but they made it to the bathrooms and snuck around them. As he stopped at a corner and peeked around it, Quentin felt something feather-light tickle his cheek. Lifting a hand to touch it, his fingers smeared something and he pulled his hand back to find that it was… ash.
His heart-rate quickened. Sensing his unease, Cheryl touched his shoulder with her free hand and gave him a questioning look. "I think both of our guys are here," he whispered, "and I think I'm already in the dream world."
"I can see the ash on your face…" Cheryl muttered, tightening her grip on his hand. "So I guess I am too."
Quentin grit his teeth. He hated Freddy Krueger - hated him. He was a fucking monster who'd touched little kids until the parents of Springwood put him in his place; in hell. Yet another cruelty of the Entity was bringing the asshole here so he could torture even more people. Quentin's only solace with Freddy's presence here was that it meant he couldn't touch Nancy. Quentin thought of Nancy often, even though he wasn't sure he would ever see her again; and frankly, he didn't know what he'd do if he did see her again. The Fog had changed his perspective on a lot of things, and he wasn't sure there was anything for him to go back to anymore.
He wasn't sure there was anything for any of them to go back to, anymore.
A low, gravelly chuckle surrounded them, as if coming from all sides. Quentin heard the low singing but couldn't tell what direction it was coming from. Both anger and fear filled his chest, sinking low into his stomach and making it clench. Pain rippled through his center as he remembered when Freddy had nearly killed him in the real world. He had a grudge against the burnt crispy asshole and suddenly rage took over. "I fought him once, I can do it again," Quentin hissed through his teeth, clutching Cheryl's hand until she winced beside him.
The blonde girl looked over at her friend in surprise. "I don't know that I've ever heard you talk like that," she murmured. "But let's be realistic. We wanna fight him - but what can we do alone? Hit him with a few pallets? If we get close enough to smash his head on a generator, he could stab us before we got the chance."
The anger dissipated and Quentin let out a sigh. "I can't just let him go. He's caused too much pain… he has to die, Cheryl." Suddenly an idea came to him. "But maybe I won't be the one to do it."
Recognition quickly lit up Cheryl's features. "You're a genius —"
The singing got louder. Both jumped into action, crouching a little for sneakiness and looking around for their strange and unlikely savior. Freddy needed to die for his sins, and Pyramid Head was the perfect creature to do the job. "Follow the forbidden tomato soup, and we should find him," Cheryl whispered.
When the pair found themselves in a classroom, suddenly thick blood walls covered the doorways, effectively trapping them both inside. Another cruel laugh echoed, and through one of the walls came Freddy, who didn't even stand as tall as Quentin himself but looked no less imposing. A small smile quirked his scarred mouth. "Nancy's little boyfriend," he drawled. "Shame they sent you here instead of her."
"Are we gonna have this conversation every time?" Quentin demanded.
Freddy's grin soured. "I'll gut you like a pig, and I'll make it nice and slow this time."
"Go ahead and try, you fucking raisin!" Cheryl piped up, clutching Quentin's arm and looking enraged. "You're not even tall enough to reach him! Want me to grab a step ladder for you, mister roasted chicken?!"
Quentin glanced sideways at her, surprised. Freddy snarled. "Nevermind. I'll cut you first, blondie…" his grin returned, eyes predatory. "I always did prefer the girls… heheheh."
Suddenly, a black hole appeared in the ceiling; one of the Entity's portals. A body fell right on top of an unsuspecting Freddy, knocking him to the ground in a heap and temporarily ridding the doorways of the blood walls. "Come on!" Cheryl insisted, tugging on Quentin's arm, but he recognized the body.
He shifted out of her grasp and rushed over, quickly helping none other than David Tapp to his feet. Tapp had been around for a long time, but he kept mostly to himself, his brain riddled to near insanity with the mystery of the jigsaw killer. He didn't socialize much, and frankly most of the time many of the others forgot he was even there, but Quentin didn't want to leave anyone behind. Ever. Quentin pulled Tapp out of the room along with Cheryl, and the three began racing across the school. Quentin looked over at him, panicked. "Where the hell did you—"
"Shut up, kid, and run," Tapp commanded, and they did.
It wasn't long before the trio nearly ran into Pyramid Head - in fact, Cheryl's face nearly collided with his midsection as she turned a corner. Stumbling back into Quentin, she peered up at the killer's rusted helmet. Tapp grabbed them and turned tail, but Quentin stopped him. "He's… well, not harmless, but he won't harm us," he told the older man. "At least, I'm mostly sure of that."
"Do we really want to take chances?" Tapp demanded.
"I can kind of sense him, in a way," Cheryl explained. "I really don't think his purpose is to harm the innocent."
"No one's truly innocent." Tapp's expression was grim, but he remained with the group, albeit behind the others. Cheryl returned her attention to the silent, lumbering killer. Then, bravely, she reached up. The Executioner rumbled loudly, but did not move as her hand made contact with his bare skin, fingers brushing his arm.
"There's someone here who deserves punishment," she said softly. "But you can sense it, can't you, big guy?"
The creature rumbled again, like stone on stone. "I think you're the monster whisperer," Quentin mumbled. "It's like a scene from the Shape of Water or something…"
Cheryl rolled her eyes, withdrawing her hand. "We have a mission here. Let's let the big guy handle that pedophile and we'll finish what we came here to do."
"What mission?" Tapp asked seriously. He was more lucid than Quentin had ever seen him. Maybe the Entity's breakdown had something to do with it.
Quentin turned to Tapp as Cheryl communicated Freddy's whereabouts to the Executioner. "Well… it's a lot to explain. I'll tell you on the way."
The darkness was suffocating. Meg felt like she couldn't breathe, sitting there with her knees pulled to her chest in the absolute middle of nothing for god knows how long. Had it been months? Years? Maybe only seconds? It felt like an eternity. This was what the Entity wanted; for her to lose her hope, her happiness, her sanity. She didn't even have the comfort of her childhood home anymore. Just blackness on all sides, closing in like a prison.
She sucked in air, trying to keep from screaming. This is what it wants. Don't give it the satisfaction, Meg. What can you do? How can you fight this? What do you do best?
Then a voice came unbidden to her mind, sounding like a mixture of Evan's voice, her mother's voice, Quentin's, Jake's, all of her friends' voices, everyone she ever knew; but Meg knew in her heart that it was really her own voice, loud and strong and clear:
You run.
She rose to her feet, and without a moment's hesitation, Meg began to run. She wasn't sure she'd ever gone so fast before, the breeze in her hair, her feet pounding the black ground as she raced for nothing in particular, just dead set on running for as long as she possibly could.
You're not gonna keep me down, you spidery piece of shit. I'll run until it kills me.
Jake Park wasn't really afraid of much; he'd been on his own for so long that even before the Fog, bravery had become a requirement for survival. But he could feel his heart thudding heavily in his chest as he and the rest of his group made their way into Haddonfield. Susie shivered next to him and he felt her suddenly grab his hand; Jake's first instinct was to pull away, but he had to admit there was something mildly comforting about her presence. At first he'd thought the pink haired girl was nothing more than a coward, but now he realized she was just gentle. And when he'd talked with her before gathering everyone together and leaving, she'd told him that he inspired her to be brave. Jake had scoffed. He wasn't a leader, he was just a woodsman.
Yet here she was, nervous but willing to take on the most evil killer in existence.
Jake glanced back to make sure the entire group had kept pace; he spotted Nea alongside the Wraith, Yui walking behind the Oni, who trotted along with heavy thuds, and Laurie, who had been walking at the back of the pack but soon moved her way to the front to lead them all once they encroached the neighborhood. "He is silent, and he stalks," Laurie warned quietly. "Then again I guess you guys know that by now. I don't think we are gonna be able to catch him by surprise… so the only way we're gonna be able to do this is by brute force. And we cannot let him catch us off guard. If he stalks us, he wins, and we die. I've survived him all this time. I really don't feel like giving that asshole the satisfaction of killing me now."
"You and me both," Jake murmured.
There was a small tug on Jake's hand as he attempted to move forward. He glanced over at Susie to find her frozen in her spot; the others all paused as well. Then she pointed.
Up in the window of the Myers house was Michael himself, staring down at them. "Behind cover!" Laurie growled.
All of them dove for cover except for the Oni, who had to be convinced by Yui that it was for the best. He crouched behind a tree and Jake had to suppress a bitter laugh at how silly the massive creature looked, with his floating white hair and huge body crouching and hiding behind a tree that obviously didn't cover him like intended. "He looks ridiculous," Susie whispered in his ear, and despite himself, despite the situation, Jake let out a small snort.
"Don't let him hear you say that or he'll hulk out," Jake whispered back.
"W-What's hulking?"
Jake had to double-take, then reminded himself that the Entity plucked people from all over the place. And he doubted killers communicated at all like the survivors, who shared stories from their worlds with each other around the campfire. "Tell you about it later," he muttered, and her expression brightened before going into a deep scowl, as if reminding herself this was no situation to smile.
Jake's lips quirked.
"ENOUGH WAITING." Suddenly the Oni was on the move, replacing his katana with a weapon much larger and more brutal.
"WAIT -" Jake started, but to no avail. The Oni was racing for the Myers house with a mighty roar - and with a strength unexpected even of the beast himself, he barreled right through the walls, leaving busted pipes and rotting wood in his wake. Jake watched in near awe as, instead of racing up the stairs to confront Michael, the Oni continued plowing through walls until the whole house shuddered and groaned.
"He's…" Susie began, and Jake nodded grimly.
"... bringing the house down," Jake finished, suppressing a smirk. He had to admit he was impressed with the beast's ingenuity. Apparently Laurie pulled her wits about her a little more quickly than the others, because she soon raced off in the direction of the house as well, then seemed to change her mind, stopping short of it as the wood cracked and splintered. It was inevitable; the house was going to fall. Jake looked back to see if the others were still frozen in place. Yui was, but he saw that Nea and the Wraith weren't there at all.
Where had they snuck off to?
"I think everything's gonna happen pretty quickly," Jake said to Susie. "Stay together, okay? If he gets you alone, he'll…"
"Don't worry," Susie replied softly.
Jake nodded, still gripping her hand tightly. They watched in awe as the Myers house began its descent to the ground. It wobbled this way and that, but only sections of the house went sideways; most of it just tumbled straight down to the ground, collapsing in on itself and taking Michael down with it. The Oni ended his rampage just outside the wreckage, lowering his kanabo.
"We can't give him a single damn minute to stalk us," Laurie growled, advancing on the rubble. "We have to pin him down! Now!"
The Oni roared his affirmative and rushed in; Jake watched as the tall figure of the Shape emerged from the wreckage and began silently walking toward them; the rips in his jumpsuit and the dirt and blood all over him — his own blood — didn't seem to faze him in the slightest. It was as if he was a machine with a single-minded goal: kill.
Jake felt his heart palpitate. He had to give it to the Oni, he was rushing straight at the other killer without a second thought. He may have been a cruel beast, but he was as brave as they came. "We've gotta do something," he hissed, but didn't move as the Oni began swinging his kanabo at Myers with a righteous fury. The Shape dodged some of the swings, and others connected. But still he was completely undeterred and began swinging his knife, landing quite a few good hits on the Oni, too.
"But what do we do?" Susie asked, eyes wide as she watched the battle rage on.
Jake felt almost helpless. They'd come in with only the bare bones of a plan, intent on just beating the Shape so bloody he was unable to move, since he couldn't be killed. But with the way he was taking the Oni's hits without so much as flinching… they would need to find a way to trap him. That was the only way. Making sure he was stuck somewhere he could never, ever get out.
Moving forward and taking Susie and Yui along with him, Jake approached Laurie, who watched the fight with a scowl. He could practically see the gears in her brain turning. "We've gotta pin him down. Trap him," she reiterated, fists clenching.
"Where?" Susie asked from Jake's side.
Yui seemed to be deep in thought, too. "Wasn't there a basement in one of these houses?" she asked.
The others looked over at her curiously. Biting her lip, Yui continued almost hesitantly: "is there a way we could somehow… trap him down there? Make sure there's no way he can get out?"
"I wish we could just send him straight to hell," Laurie growled, then her expression changed as if she realized something. "The generators have fuel in them, right?"
Jake's eyes narrowed. "Are you thinking what I think you're thinking?"
"If we can get him down there… block the way out… and blow up that generator…"
"But how are we going to have access to fire?" Yui questioned.
"Wires," Susie said after a moment of thoughtful silence. "There are loose wires hanging from the ceiling down there… I remember because Frank would mess around with them and try to shock us. They hurt a lot… Do you think we could…?"
When Jake met Susie's gaze, a small, genuine smile curled his lips. "Yeah… I think that could work." Her bright expression only made his smile grow wider.
A roar broke the group from their conversation. The Oni was clutching his side, falling to one knee. Michael looked battered, but completely apathetic to his grievous wounds. Jake couldn't stop Yui before she raced forward, putting herself between the beast and the knife-wielding killer looming over him. "Come on!" Yui challenged. Michael's stare wandered to her.
Then she ran.
The Shape was apparently more interested in survivors, because he left the Oni and began chasing after Yui. Jake's chest burned with concern for her, but there was nothing he could do except move the plan forward as quickly as possible and hope that Yui knew what to do when the time came. For the first time since they arrived, Susie let go of Jake's hand and he found himself feeling a little less than enthused about the absence of her fingers in his own; but the pink-haired girl was going over to the Oni and pulling some gauze and ointment out of her pocket. She softly murmured things like "you gave as good as you got" and "that was amazing, what you did to the house" as she began attempting to tend to his wounds, being patient even when he growled at her or tried to swat her away.
Jake turned to go with Laurie down the street, leaving the Oni in Susie's apparently capable hands. As they ran, they heard Yui scream - but neither of them could afford to stop or get distracted. They had to do this now. Going to the garage entrance of the basement of the house in question, Jake began analyzing the area for things they could use to block the steps. "A locker?" he suggested.
"He's strong. Really strong."
Jake looked over at the dust sheet covering the vehicle in the garage. It was insane. Unlikely they could move it. But he had to voice it. "... the car?"
Laurie considered. "We'll need a lot of strength to move it. Do you think the Oni is down for the count?"
Jake shook his head. "That monster can take a hell of a beating. Have you seen Nea? Or the Wraith? They disappeared when we arrived…"
"I noticed. I thought they were supposed to be helping us. They'd better have a good reason for sneaking off."
"We do," a voice said from behind them. Jake and Laurie turned to see Nea, carrying a sack full of…
"Weapons?" Jake asked incredulously. "Where did you…?"
"Most of them we snagged from the kitchens and such. You'd be surprised at what the Entity allowed to be transported here. A few of them we made from scratch using spare parts we found." Nea smirked, glancing up and behind her at seemingly nothing, but Jake automatically knew the Wraith was behind her, cloaked. "We figured these would be helpful for pinning the bastard down. He can't move if every inch of him is stabbed straight through, can he?"
Jake's lips quirked. "Brilliant. We were thinking of getting him down here and trapping him and those weapons will be helpful. And now that you two are here, I've got an idea."
Crotus Prenn Asylum was covered in snow and had half of a lodge sticking out of the main building when Evan arrived there. This must've been a result of the chaos currently happening in the Fog; maps were blending, killers and survivors were running amok, and the Entity's portals were randomly opening all over the place. It came as no surprise when Evan saw the girl with the brown skin sneak by - what was her name? Claudette? And he simply let her go, having a different purpose to fulfill here.
But seeing her, a girl who was such close friends with Meg, reminded him of her, and his chest felt heavy. Meg still hadn't been seen - therefore she was still trapped by the Entity. Which made him all the more ready to finish off the Entity's servants and go after the deity itself. He'd rip the Fog apart if it meant finding Meg and setting her free.
In fact, that was exactly what he intended to do.
The traveling circus on one side of the estate looked somehow even more decrepit with snow covering every inch of it. The undead horse near the cart, its mane replaced with a thick layer of slush, stared at Evan with emotionless red eyes.
Evan gripped his cleaver a little tighter and began wandering quietly, hoping he'd catch his query asleep and this would be quick and easy. Evan ran through the options in his head; mind games wouldn't work on Jeffrey, so it would have to be stealth, or simple brute force. And with those noxious potions, the Clown would be a difficult opponent to close in on. Evan didn't have a strategy for this one, and that was unsettling. Deciding to begin setting traps anyways and hoping he'd be able to lead the Clown into one just like he had with Herman, Evan littered them throughout the circus, his suspicions growing with each moment he didn't run into Jeffrey. Was he truly sleeping? Or was he somewhere else entirely? Going after the other killers had been a huge guessing game so far - he knew that both Herman and the Legion were very attached to their homes and made an educated guess that they'd be there, but with the Clown, who knew? Was he just setting these traps for no reason? Would he spend too much precious time looking for the fat bastard?
If Evan's sharp ears hadn't picked up a low, wet cough, he wouldn't have been able to roll out of the way, preventing a knife from biting down into his shoulder. Evan rolled to his feet and smiled with satisfaction when Jeffrey's foot caught in his trap. "Already…?" he asked, gripping his cleaver and moving in to strike him down.
Until Jeffrey smashed a bottle on the ground and suddenly odious pink fumes were surrounding them. Evan tried to hold his breath, to not breathe it in, but it was already in his system in just a couple of seconds. His vision blurred slightly and his faculties began failing him; his steps were clumsy as he tried to make his way over to the Clown, who pried open the trap with his knife and set himself free.
Evan tried to blink the haziness away. Everything was distorted; the trees floating and wiggling, the ground moving up and down, even the visage of the Clown appearing thinner and fatter in rhythm with everything else. This was what the survivors had to deal with?
Only Evan's enhanced skills as a hunter prevented him from being stabbed when the Clown launched himself at him. Evan's hands barely came up to grab his wrists, dropping his cleaver with the motion, and the two grappled each other for a few moments. Evan's strength was clearly superior, but Jeffrey had weight on him, and he also had those damned bottles. Evan could barely think with those fumes permeating all of his senses. Luckily he managed to make the Clown drop his knife and now it was just hand-to-hand. Brute strength.
As the smog from the Clown's bottles cleared, so did Evan's mind. He was able to quickly let one hand go and he aimed his fist right into Jeffrey's round stomach, delivering a blow that was heavy enough to crack a rib.
And to make the Clown vomit all over him.
The putrid stench was enough to make Evan himself gag. But he held himself together enough to grab Jeffrey's shoulders, ramming him down into Evan's uplifted knee. He wanted to say that he was doing this all for Meg. All for the souls that had been trapped here in the Fog.
But really, he was doing this because he wanted to. Jeffrey Hawke was a disgusting sack of shit, and Evan needed no further excuse to eliminate him.
As they continued to grapple, the Clown losing the battle but still trying anyways, Evan found himself moving backwards, the other killer pressing forward. Hadn't he put a trap somewhere behind him? If that was what the Clown was trying to do, lead him into one of his own traps, then he sorely underestimated Evan's dedication to his craft, and to the hunt.
A good hunter never stepped in their own traps.
Evan's grip slipped for only a moment, but it was just enough. Jeffrey pulled something from his vest and slammed it against Evan's chest, and Evan felt his skin break under the shattering glass.
And suddenly fumes filled his nose, so strong and so vile that he immediately doubled over on his hands and knees, vomiting so profusely that he was sure his organs would be lying on the ground when he finished. Jeffrey let out another wet cough as he came to stand over Evan's heaving, hunched body. His foot shot forward right into Evan's stomach, then slammed down on his back, causing him to crash to the ground in his own vomit. Evan was too disoriented from the potion staining the front of his overalls to even really feel the pain, or to feel anything other than the need to purge his empty stomach. He'd anticipated the bottles, and yet he was still defenseless against them. Was this really how it was going to end? Was Jeffrey Hawke really going to be the one he couldn't take down?
Evan vaguely heard a distorted screech from above, and suddenly Jeffrey was no longer standing over him; as Evan tipped his head up, he could see three copies of the Clown, all stumbling backwards with hacksaws in their shoulders. Using what little motor skills he currently had, Evan shoved himself up and ripped the top of his overalls clean off, leaving him only in a pair of trousers and his boots. The more distance he put between himself and those noxious fumes, the better he felt - and with his clearing vision he could see the frail visage of none other than the Nurse hovering behind Jeffrey, who was currently bleeding profusely from the heinous wound on his shoulders, and choking on his own blood. Evan stared between him and the Nurse, his gaze questioning.
But she said nothing, only wheezed softly for a few moments… and floated away, leaving Evan to finish the job.
He had to admit, he wasn't sure what the outcome of the battle would've been if she hadn't interfered. Silently thanking her and feeling angry at himself for being so weak, Evan pulled the hacksaw from Jeffrey's shoulder, causing more blood to leak. The Clown was still on his feet, but he was wavering, trying his damndest to remain conscious but failing miserably. "You're… sick," Evan said with some difficulty. "And no one… can fix… you."
The fight began anew, but this time, Evan had full control of his body and Jeffrey was suffering from major blood-loss. The Clown barely landed any hits while Evan landed all of his; the satisfaction of hearing flesh squelch with the weight of his punches and seeing Jeffrey's body knocked around like a rag doll was immense, far greater than any noble goal or selfless ideations. This was pure bloodlust, pure desire to make the monster's life end, and Evan was all too happy and eager to do it.
Jeffrey had fallen to his knees, his stomach jiggling and his expression glazed over, barely clinging onto life. Evan picked up his cleaver, testing it in his hand for a moment before looking back at the Clown, who stared at him with empty eyes. Then Evan used all the strength he had and made a swing, feeling the blade crunch against flesh and bone.
And Jeffrey's head fell to the ground with a plop, soon followed by his rotund body.
When it fell, a little pouch at his hip came open and a few dried cylindrical objects fell out; Evan quickly recognized them as a collection of fingers. He gave them a lingering glance, only wishing he'd had the time to make the sick bastard choke on his own collection.
Then he walked away, ready to confront the Entity itself.
Nea and Laurie had gathered buckets upon buckets of fuel from all the generators they could find on the street. Shortly after that, the entire house cellar was coated in it. One spark would set the entire place ablaze. Jake knew that a fire wouldn't be enough to trap the Shape for good; that was where the weapons came in handy. The plan was to pin him inside a locker with the weapons, so many that he would be unable to move to get them out, then light the place up and block the stairs with something huge, like the car.
But they had precious little time, and each second was vital. The Oni, after Susie patched him up, went to take some of the heat off of Yui while the rest of them finished setting it up. And each of them had parts to play.
Now they just had to set off the trap.
Jake had to admit he was pleased with the amount of teamwork going on between the killers and survivors. He still didn't trust them, but they had a common goal… for the moment. He wondered how the others were faring, wandering other parts of the Fog and attempting to weaken the Entity more and more, bit by bit. After this was over, they'd all be dispersed into their own towns, living their own lives. A part of him felt relieved at the prospect, while another part of him was saddened. There were a few people here that, he reluctantly thought, he would miss seeing every day.
And weirdly enough, Susie might be one of them.
Coming back to the present, Jake saw Yui, the Oni, and the Shape in the distance, and it seemed they were headed in his direction. Yui looked pretty injured, but still on her feet, and the Oni looked about the same. The Shape seemed beaten bloody but, yet again, oblivious to his wounds. A machine of death. A shiver rolled down Jake's spine and he looked down the stairs at Laurie, who was using rope to hold open the doors of the locker they planned to shove Michael into. "Is it ready?" he called. "Cause this is gonna happen, and quickly!"
"Bring the bastard on," Laurie spat, tying a knot in the rope and stepping back from her work. She quickly raced up the stairs and Jake got into his position behind the car as they all came hurtling toward the garage. He made sure not to leave himself directly in Michael's line of sight; if he stalked them for too long, he'd be unstoppable. Jake had to give Yui major props for keeping him going for so long. She was one of the best runners amongst all the survivors, along with Meg.
Meg…
Jake had to admit he missed her. She would have been invaluable help during all of this. He could just imagine her running killers around, making snappy comments and taunting them the whole time. A part of this was for her. He trusted Quentin and Cheryl to find a way to save her.
"Are Nea and the Wraith in the basement?" Jake demanded, and was thankful for Laurie's curt nod.
Laurie waved her arms. "Come on, you fucking bastard! I've had enough of your shit. It's time to settle this!" Yui veered out of the way as they came racing in and the Oni circled around to the other door to get ready to move the car. Jake was positioned to help with that, but he was kidding himself if he thought the Oni couldn't do it alone. As expected, Michael abandoned Yui in favor of Laurie - his ultimate obsession. Jake had seen plenty in his time in the Fog, but he'd never seen a killer so single-mindedly obsessed with a survivor as Michael was with Laurie. Perhaps the Trapper was with Meg… but that was a different sort of obsession.
Laurie bum-rushed downstairs and began circling around the area, waiting for the right moment to happen and hoping against hope the knife-wielding psycho wouldn't stab her before they could trap him. Michael got a swipe in on her arm, and Laurie screeched in pain and clutched the wound, but stumbled along anyways. "Nea - NOW!" she growled as she turned the corner and headed for the locker.
Several things happened in that moment. The Shape managed to grab Laurie just as the Wraith came out of the shadows and slammed the other killer sideways into the locker, making him drop his knife. Nea began sparking the wires on the other side without realizing Laurie was trapped with Michael, and by the time she heard the screams, the fire had already begun. Within seconds the place was already being set ablaze. The Shape was struggling vehemently while the Wraith tried to keep them blocked in with the full weight of his body; the cloaked killer stared down at Laurie with a sadness in his pale eyes, as if he knew the predicament she was in.
Because if he shifted even a little to let Laurie out, the Shape would get out too, and their entire plan would be ruined. And there was no time to think of any alternate plan while the growing basement fire spread to their side of the room.
Sensing this, Laurie's expression turned from fear to cold anger and she turned to press her body into Michael's as well. The moment the Shape's gaze met Laurie's, his hands went around her throat, as if the prospect of killing her was far more important than any escape. Nea raced over as the fire roared, panting. "What the hell?!" she demanded as the Wraith continued blocking them in, waiting for her to pin him with the knives by the locker. "Philip… what are you doing?! Get Laurie out!"
"There's no time!" Laurie choked, her hands clawing at Michael's as she lost her voice. "Just… DO… IT!"
"But -"
"DO IT!"
Nea grimaced, then slipped underneath the Wraith's arm to begin shoving the blades as deeply as she could into whatever parts of the Shape she could access. He didn't even really struggle that much, he was so intent on choking the life out of Laurie, whose light was leaving her eyes with each passing second.
Only the endless time she'd spent here in the Fog allowed Nea to continue working in the face of her friend's impending death. It was instinct by this time, her body on autopilot as she and the Wraith shoved knives into every inch of Michael's body, who seemed uncaring - only gazing down at Laurie as he strangled her. A small part of Nea wondered if they even needed the knives. Laurie seemed to be more important to him than any chance of escape. Blinking back tears, she kept going until the fire threatened to consume them all. Flames began licking at the backs of her legs and she bit back a scream as she and the Wraith began trying to shove the doors closed. Panic began swelling in her chest as her lungs ached from the smoke.
Hearing her cough, the Wraith shoved her aside before she could grab the rope to tie the locker shut. Scrambling forward, Nea tried to help, but he shoved her again, pointing one finger toward the stairs. "Go," he managed to say.
"Philip…?" Nea's eyes widened. He rarely ever spoke, and even though they had become fairly close during all this chaos, a small part of her was still surprised he was doing this. She was stubborn as hell and he usually balked in the face of her anger, but this time, he only gave her a scathing look and gave her another shove toward the stairs.
Only the flame singeing off her pants legs urged Nea to finally move. Blinking back unwanted tears, she stumbled up the stairs, leaving him to finish the job while the massive fire grew wilder and out of control. Jake caught her when he saw the state she was in, leading her away from the stairs. "Where is Laurie?" he demanded.
Nea couldn't answer, and she wasn't even sure whether it was the smoke in her lungs or the lump in her throat. Jake's lips pressed into a hard line, and Yui hung her head. "I wonder how many others have died because of all of this," Jake growled. "How many of the others who won't ever make it home."
As Jake led Nea away from the stairs, the Oni cracked his knuckles, preparing to move the car. "Wait!" Nea wheezed. "Philip… he's still down there!"
Jake's expression hardened. "We can't wait for him. Besides… you see the fire. He can't —"
"He can, and we are waiting until he comes out!" Nea growled, giving him a look that meant the argument was over. Nea's stubbornness was legendary among the survivors… so they waited. The Oni grumbled under his breath impatiently, mostly in Japanese, but Jake had a feeling they were cuss words.
After about thirty seconds, Jake finally glanced back at the Oni and nodded. "Do it."
Nea opened her mouth to argue again when a shadowy figure ascended the steps, shaking. Nea rushed forward, still coughing, and latched onto the tall, lanky silhouette. Jake watched silently as the Wraith put his arms around her, holding her up despite his own gruesome-looking injuries - burns that crawled up his legs and torso and over his arms. Jake had lived this whole time in the Fog looking at things in black and white. Killers were evil, survivors were good, and that was that. That mindset had helped him survive plenty of times.
But the lines were all blurred now, the proof being the red strings that connected the Wraith with Nea, the Trapper with Meg, and even Susie and himself… and many of the others, too.
When they all got out of here, what would they do? How would they navigate life?
The Oni's irritated bass broke him from his thoughts. "Move, girl!"
The Wraith ushered Nea aside carefully and the Oni took initiative to shove the car forward with shocking strength. He moved the vehicle forward hard enough that it practically smashed against the stairs, leaving no doorway, no escape. The smoke began bellowing from the cracks and even through the floors of the house, and the group knew it was time to leave.
But they all looked back, thinking of the survivor - no, the friend they had to leave behind.