Ok so I feel like this needs to be said on my part as an explanation for my writing choices and why it varies so much from other stories with this relationship. Unfortunately I can't go too in-depth because then these notes would be longer than the actual chapter so I'll keep it short. Stories to me are meant to not be like reality, it sounds obvious, but that also means only being relatable to a certain degree. That means having idealistic hero's and relatable, realistic or unrealistic, and evil villains. The problem for me, is that most modern stories, even in FanFiction, have no morals, and when you take a close look at the hero's you wonder who really is the villain in the story or if there is any hero at all. I mean what's a hero if there's no moral lesson to the story or the hero teaches you a bad lesson, like living life as nothing more than a self serving hedonist. Promoting reckless and self destructive high school and college behavior like drug abuse, excessive alcohol, promiscuousness,and just kinda drifting through life with no real goal other than chasing a temporary high? Devoid of fulfillment or meaning to it all. Doesn't that sound miserable? I create my stories not out of stress relief, but because I am fascinated with stories of fictional wonder, and I want to create something that can entertain but also inspire someone to better themselves through God, not just create an unflattering reflection of humanities ever decreasing moral standards. To further explain, I leave the video that inspired my story to be as idealistic as it is, and not a dark miserable tale showing the worst of humanity with no attempt at inspiring self betterment.
watch?v=ow79eUHFhp0
Meg once again awoke in her old bungalow. The only home she'd previously known and where she grew up. The only company had been her mother and the rare few kids who ever got along with her in school. Although that had partially been her fault, then again, she had just been a little girl.
A little girl who didn't have a father, and in hindsight, a little girl who's confidence had been utterly obliterated for nearly two decades because of it. Her mother had absolutely done the best of her ability, but Meg was doomed to disadvantage without a dad.
She'd been bullied for only having one parent, the other kids flaunting how they had both of their's. She still remembered how they said their dads all wanted them while hers didn't. It had hurt, but it was true. Meg had been over the moon when her father had come back when she was 11, and it had been great to brag about to all the bullies that he had come back.
Then middle school had crushed her even more when he left again. She'd been in sixth grade when he came back, and it was the end of the seventh when he left. Eighth grade had been one of the most miserable years of her life.
The bullying and taunts had been worse than she'd ever dealt with, and often times, Meg would be hugging her mother at home while crying almost everyone she came back. It's when Meg's running had become almost a way of life for her, the only escape she had from the insults and bullying in middle school. They didn't have much money for other forms of entertainment, so exploring the forest was the most consistent thing Meg could do.
Then high school happened. Meg's puberty had been a year late and finally hit its peak, combined with her constant running. Suddenly she noticed some of the guys at school staring at her when they thought she didn't notice. Meg had gone to a different high school, and she'd been a bit smarter and hadn't mentioned much about her home life to any of her new friends so she wouldn't get picked on.
That had made high school far more tolerable at the time. However, when Meg reminisced of those times, all she felt was shame and contempt. It hadn't even been all sunshine and rainbows at the time either. She'd been alright in the classroom with getting guys attention as well as making it on the track team, but that had its own problems.
That had led to her debacle with Dana. Getting dared to slash a cop car's tire, hearing the quiet insults that her thighs were too thick for running, and then how Dana had fractured her ankle so Meg couldn't compete in the track race. The only satisfaction she'd gotten was winning that same race anyway, even though it had earned her a trip to the hospital and a boot with crutches for a couple months.
Meg regretted adding onto their hospital debt.
She should have been able to find comfort in her other friends though, but they were fake. Just like her multitude of relationships in those four years. Although she wouldn't hold it against all of the guys, sure some were just in it for showing her off, but others were just as genuinely confused as she was at the time. If only she'd had a father figure, maybe he could have helped her avoid a lot of those bad relationships.
So with the encouragement of her fake friends, and even some of the upperclassmen, she'd started following the trends. It had been a boon to actually be somewhat popular for once and not just labeled as the girl who's dad was so disgusted by her that he left. Those trends had led to smoking, which she thankfully wasn't a big fan of. The coughing was utterly awful.
Then came drugs, which had been kinda cool at first, but after scaring her mom she'd stopped out of guilt. That and because she'd managed to keep herself from getting addicted the high wasn't worth the headache afterwards.
The final one lasted years. Meg had started sleeping around. She did it with some of her short term boyfriends and upperclassmen, but it didn't fix the feeling of a lack of fulfillment. Nor did it fix the feeling of being wanted or loved. Yet she'd stupidly kept trying. It had made her even more miserable on the inside the longer she kept going, but she'd been a stupid teenager high off the power her looks had given her.
Meg shuddered. She needed to stop thinking back on her time in high school. Nothing but shame and contempt was left of those four years. To be fair, the entire time there had been a massive learning experience, especially... that night.
The night that scared her straight and had her in hysterical tears for nearly two weeks. It had also convinced her to never drink more than a single bottle or glass of alcohol ever again in her life.
Ideally the only time she'd drink more than a single glass of alcohol would be if she ever lived to see her wedding day. Wouldn't that be nice.
Meg caught herself when she realized she was blushing and getting just a bit too excited at the thought. Now blushing in embarrassment despite being alone she climbed to her feet calmly. Her eyes roved over the walls of the copy of her home in an attempt to distract herself.
The walls were the wrong color, a dark blue when they should have been a pale green. The furniture was different, entirely different colors and designs that looked nothing like home. All of the pictures that should have been on the walls were replaced by dark and morbid images like in the trials. Similar to the pictures they saw in the houses of Badham and Lampkin Lane.
Meg's skin began to heat up a second time, only this increase in temperature wasn't pleasant. It was itchy and shallow, staying skin deep while the first heat had gone down to the heart. Not even her old home was spared by The Entity, Evan's hadn't either. It wasn't right!
Yet before Meg could spiral further into her anger it was doused like a single candle underneath a waterfall. Melancholy flooded her, sadness too. Because when she looked back on her life, on the mistakes she'd made, how she'd hurt people, and how much she had failed to better herself for so long, suddenly it all felt justified. Humbling to the point of self loathing and deprecating. Even though she had tried to better herself after high school she could have done better, could have been happier, more fulfilled. She could have found a real reason to live.
Suddenly, a memory flew into her mind. It was of the writer, the one she had looked up to in her early twenties and who she'd had a bit of a celebrity crush on. Although now all of her affection was directed to Evan, and rightfully so. He'd earned it.
The writer she'd looked up to had been a christian, rather ironic considering it had initially turned Meg off, now a third of her time was spent having religious existential crisis'. He'd seemed genuine about his belief, and had reminded her of those churches where the members were all smiles and warm welcomes, even to those they didn't know. His belief had shown in his books too, but he hadn't been ludicrously heavy on them, mixing it with the plot of the story that wasn't inherently christian to make it more engaging, believable, and to keep non-religious people from rolling their eyes and skipping ahead.
He'd written several books, and Meg had read most of them at the local library when she had free time away from work or other responsibilities. Her mother had even read a couple when Meg had suggested it to her, and she had seemed to enjoy them.
The memory she gained clarity on was only a few months before she'd been brought here, she'd been at home and was watching one of his interviews on their TV. He'd been getting questions about his choice to inject his religion into his stories as well as his own personal faith. Meg hadn't been a fan of whoever it was interviewing him at the time, they had come off as antagonistic and arrogant. Yet it had seemed like he was fully aware of it during the interview, still never ceasing to sound or look excited when he explained something from his books.
"This story I've created is, at its core, about redemption. I created a character who hasn't been shown a shred of sympathy, who gets beaten down into the dirt, and then who finally snaps. He goes on to kill anyone he sees as unrighteous, living a godless life. Then he meets the main character and her friends. By the end of the trilogy, he's a completely new person, he'd found salvation with the help of his friends who discovered it alongside him. That's the entire point, that anyone no matter how awful can redeem themselves if they just try hard enough."
That brief spiel from him had been a massive step forward for her in self betterment, although she still had a long way to go. Back then and even now. The words had been very inspiring, and it motivated Meg to finish all of his books she'd not yet seen. It also helped her mature a bit more.
Meg had wanted to actually buy her favorite books of his, intending to make a bookshelf of her all time favorite novels and stories. Unfortunately Meg hadn't been willing to spend the money, even if it was coming out of her own paycheck.
Her poor mother had racked up too much hospital debt that she was growing unable to pay for in her decaying condition. Meg had stepped up, determined to ease the burden as much as she could despite her mother's refusal to let her bear the weight of her cancer.
Now Meg was scared to know if her mother would even still be there if she ever escaped. Not that Meg thought she would abandon her, although she'd been terrified of the thought after her father left for the second time.
Meg didn't know what she would do if her mother wasn't there anymore.
In a moment of desperation, unable to handle her horrific circumstances and her mother's bleak looking future, Meg closed her eyes. She sat down on the nearest chair, and was disappointed at the feeling of it. It was not soft nor plush, but she shouldn't have been surprised that The Entity wouldn't allow even a crumb of comfort.
She ignored it and bowed her head in emotional exhaustion. She wasn't used to doing this, and wasn't exactly sure what she was supposed to say.
The book Unbroken came to mind, although Meg did somewhat consider it rude and cheesy to steal Louis Zamperini's plead for salvation. Perhaps she could try and come up with something a little more original? Something more fitting to her situation. She also had her family to consider.
Meg tried to come up with some short saying, but it always turned out too long and clunky. So instead she thought back on Unbroken, looked at this circumstances and situation. He hadn't prayed for his salvation and the men with him in the raft, and while it came off as selfish at first, she also realized he couldn't make a promise on their behalf. They were their own people.
That's when Meg's eyes popped open in realization.
Was her situation really that different from Louis Zamperini's? Or from the average person back home in America?
In finer details, it was different than the average American, but that's what made her journey like Louis'. Most people didn't get murdered on a daily basis and get to come back from it, nor were they imprisoned in the grasps of a demon. Well...perhaps that wasn't true. Her situation was just a little more of a physical and literal imprisonment compared to slavery of the mind and soul.
Yet when she looked at it conceptually it really wasn't that different from a middle class American. For a moment Meg actually thought of the movie American Psycho, and by extension, Patrick Bateman. Meg remembered there had been a whole YouTube video about why so many men loved the movie. The basis of its argument had been how Patrick worked at a job that, despite bringing it a very appealing amount of money, was repetitive and unfulfilling.
Almost like a trial you never wanted to go into, but had no choice to compete in if you wanted to keep your life and soul.
It was then that Meg realized her situation wasn't any different, and that she didn't need to come up with something original because her situation wasn't unique. It was just like anyone else's suffering, so Meg looked to the ceiling, wishing it wasn't hiding the sky, but grateful it shielded her from The Entity's demons. Then, she closed her eyes and bowed her head.
She wasn't used to this kind of stuff, although she'd seen other people do it.
Might as well do what they did to make sure she did it right. Maybe the closing of the eyes made sure the prayer made it all the way up.
'If you save me I will serve you forever'
Unfortunately Meg couldn't speak for the rest of her family, but if she ever did escape. She'd make good on her promise, and who knows? Maybe she could talk Bill and the others into it. Maybe even Evan.
Of course Meg didn't magically open her eyes to the sight of her mother and the real world. Meg hadn't been expecting that, although she hadn't been able to stop the tiniest, most naive hope that it would have. No, life wouldn't be that easy, but how was she supposed to develop into a fully fledged and true woman if she didn't deal with some hardships?
She'd have to find a way out, but if The Entity was giving any hint, it was on the verge of self imploding.
Although, Meg had to consider that they wouldn't be spared in the wake of its destruction.
But what other option did they have but to pray that they wouldn't die?
Meg quickly made one more preemptive prayer for their survival before focusing back in on her surroundings. There wasn't much to do, they'd only had one rather old tv at the old house, and while it was here in this version, it was predictably broken.
She explored every hall but one. The one with the flaming rooms.
Meg wasn't too afraid to admit that she was now terrified of fire. She couldn't stand to use her power offensively or defensively if she couldn't look away. Any time she saw that blazing chemical reaction she panicked.
Although she supposed it wasn't a chemical reaction here. It was just flat out magic basically. Even with the barrels in the trials, the wood never blackened from the heat. Back when Meg was a survivor she'd hid herself pressed up against the barrels with fire in them. It was cool as could be, and when she stood up she felt no heat from the flames.
It was just like the campfire, but the campfire had burned her when she landed right in it. So she was willing to bet it was the same for the barrels.
Focus Meg focus! She was getting distracted by barrels of all things! Of course she didn't really have much else to do, all she really could do was wait for Evan to come find her so she could make it to the estate safely. But...was that even really necessary?
Meg loved Evan, and part of that was for his chivalrous, gentlemanly side she showed her. She knew he personally brought her back to guarantee she was safe, but she also knew he just liked having her on his arm either side by side or literally carrying her.
It wasn't like she didn't like being on his arm either. She liked it a little too much actually.
What was saying she couldn't make his life a little easier and meet him half way? Try and return even just a fraction of the mountainous attention he'd showered her in. She needed to do something nice for him, something more than letting him kiss her whenever he desired. Something special to show her appreciation.
She wasn't exactly a craftsman, she'd never done anything serious in that area. Anything she tried to make for him probably wouldn't come out that well, and then she'd die from embarrassment. She didn't consider herself a good singer, and even if she did sound good she'd still be way to embarrassed to ever sing to anyone other than herself.
Well she supposed she could figure out once she learned some more skills, and got to spend more time with him. Get him to open up about his childhood more and learn everything he enjoyed that she already hadn't.
Actually he had mentioned a love of drawing. Maybe she could get him some supplies for it, although she had no idea where she'd do that.
Meg snapped out of her hopeful ideas of a gift for Evan. In front of her was the last hall of the house, there was only two others to be fair. One led to the garage, one to the front door, and the other to her and her mom's bedroom.
That hall was the one on fire, and Meg was practically shaking at the thought of taking any steps further, especially because she couldn't tel which room the glow originated from.
On the right was her bedroom, on the left was her mom's. Meg had a sinking feeling in her gut, and she didn't even have any good speculation as to which room it was in.
All she did know for certain, was that the fire wasn't there just because The Entity wanted to theme her house after her accursed powers. It was there for a reason and the dread in her gut told her the reason why would be revealed by what room it was in.
Of course she didn't know what symbolism the fire would represent whether it was in her's, or her mother's room. Maybe her room would by a literal reminder of how she'd been made into a killer through a crucible of fire?
Although, perhaps the fire in her mom's room symbolized something worse than what had happened to her.
Something you couldn't come back from. Like if the trials were real.
Meg's breathing was far too fast for just standing stationary. All she was doing was staring at two doors that both had an ominous and terrifying glow beneath them. It was pretty obvious what Meg was afraid of though, and while she had never tried it, she doubted she'd be comfortable around fire even if Evan was right behind her and holding her tightly.
Maybe she could test that theory...
Upon second thought, she didn't want to get anywhere near a fire. Even a controlled one in a fireplace.
Meg tried to be brave. She took one meager step forward and almost whimpered to herself when she thought the fiery glow flashed. It didn't, it was too small, her mind was clearly just playing tricks on her.
So she took one more shuffling step forward, her mind running a mile a minute as she slowly approached the two doors. She knew that it was just her mind playing tricks on her, and that there wasn't actually a reactive glow each time she took a step forward, but her mind just wouldn't stop nagging at her. What if it really was reactive? What if the Entity wanted to make sure there wasn't any uncharred flesh left on her body?
What if it wanted to completely baptize her in fire and try and use it to break her spirit?
Meg couldn't take it anymore. She backed up out of the hall so fast she almost fell over, her feet had nearly caught on each other, and Meg didn't want anymore irritation of her back's ruined skin. She couldn't go over there, not yet, not like this. She wasn't strong enough to do it alone, she needed Evan, but would that be enough to keep her from running away? She was afraid that it wasn't.
Suddenly the walls all felt too claustrophobic, the eerie glow of the distant fire was too bright, and the house was too empty. She was vulnerable, she was alone.
Why could she hear a distant sound of wind? The kind of gust of wind you'd hear right before the big scary monster popped out of the darkness and started chasing the main character. Meg was too scared at the moment, but if she wasn't she would have laughed at her hypocriticalness. Whenever she'd watched those kinds of cheesy horror movies she'd always lament the characters for being so stupid, for freezing up when they should have run.
So why wasn't she doing just that? Why didn't she use the athletic skill she was most proficient with?
Fear.
Paralyzing fear.
Meg looked at the front door to her right. Just a quick dash down the narrow hall, out the door, into the woods and hopefully right into Evan's waiting arms. She hoped it didn't frustrate him with the amount of times he's had to calm her down from spiraling into a freak out already.
But...Evan had warned of the other killers, the ones Meg had faced countless times in trials and seen the most depraved sides of. The ones she embarrassed and spited out of bitterness and hollow victories.
As if she could have ever defeated those demons by herself.
Was risking a run in with those psychopaths worth getting out of her very creepy fake house and trying to find Evan out in the woods? Where would she even go anyway? She could only vaguely remember the way to Evan's estate, and what if he came to the house and she was gone? Then what would he think? She wouldn't be optimistic in that scenario.
Suddenly her bedroom door flew open from down the hall. Meg screeched in panic and ran for the front door. Her fingers curled around the terribly low quality handle and flung it open so fast she almost hit herself in the head. Meg almost flew out of the front door and onto the leafy and grassy ground just two or three steps below, landing gracefully. Thankfully she still remembered all her technique from track hurdling so she didn't twist an ankle. She let herself roll twice before twisting her body upright so she was facing her house, trying to ready herself for anything to come screaming after her.
Nothing did.
Finally with a sigh of relief Meg relaxed. Her muscles loosened and her posture lost it's rigidness.
"So you are the new killer Danny refuses to cease prattling on about?" An almost electric voice said giddily from behind Meg.
The fire killer whirled around, all of her previous tension returned as her eyes landed on the new potential threat. Then her eyes went wide, this wasn't a potential threat, this was a mortal threat, and suddenly Meg was screaming in her head for Evan to get here sooner. Because around ten feet in front of her was The Doctor.
"I had initially come here out of curiosity, but..." The Doctor let the words hang, making Meg squirm.
"I'd recognize that scream, no matter how long it has been. I think you'll find my methods of retribution quite fun!" He said with a sadistic laugh.
Meg's eyes went wide.
Dwight was absolutely positive he'd seen this same patch of woods before, anytime he pointed it out to Jake the woodsman would nod in agreement.
"Alright just face it, we're lost!" Feng shouted.
Almost everyone quietly laughed or nodded at her statement, looking around in a vain attempt to find guidance.
But the woods were unforgiving and smothering.
Bill would have normally laughed at Feng's comment, Dwight knew him just as well as anyone else in their family, but the older man was obviously too focused on finding the estate to really care.
Surely one of them would be able to come up with a way out right?
Dwight himself joined the others in scanning around the trees, looking for any anomalies. He couldn't tell if The Entity was messing with him or if they were just being plain stupid. The evidence pointed either way.
"Bill." Dwight said. "Is it just me or does it feel like we've been walking in circles?" He asked, unintentionally getting the others attention.
The veteran turned to him. "It feels like we're running in circles, but I get the feeling The Entity is messing with us." Bill responded. "Don't know why it would when it probably has more important things to do." He added on while looking up at the sky.
David shrugged from the side. "Oh come on, we all know it could never pass up a chance to torture us." He said jokingly. The words, while they would've normally been received as morbid and cynical, were betrayed by his light tone and smile.
The British accent didn't help either.
Feng snorted in amusement and bumped his arm. David looked down at the much shorter girl, offense visible on his face. "What?" He said. "All of us thought of it." He exclaimed in his defense, which only made Feng smile at how true it was.
She still shook her head at him. "Just because everyone wanted to say it doesn't mean you should." She chastised, only earning a cocky smirk from David.
"Humor is meant to be dangerous." David retorted, for a moment Feng looked like she wanted to say something back. She even opened her mouth to respond, but then thought better of it and didn't. She knew himself and the others were gonna take David's side in that argument, the best jokes between them all were at each other's expenses. Or someone else's.
Like Felix.
"So how are we gonna get out this mess?" Kate said in her southern accent, blonde curls still staying glossy in the dark forest. None of them had been in any trials since Jake, David, and Bill had discovered Meg was the new killer. Thanks to the fact that Kate had mastered the art of keeping her hair from getting dirty, she retained its natural shine like it was nothing.
There was probably some entity magic thrown in there as well.
"Actually I think I might have a way out of this." Ace piped up, surprising most of them.
He took a step forward so he was just barely further than shoulder to shoulder from Bill. "Might seem crazy but I realize what The Entity's trying to pull here. It's trying to make us give up, run us around in circles until we get tired of it and stop trying. It obviously doesn't want us to find Meg." He finished, turning back to Kate with his classic smile.
The southern belle just rolled her eyes.
"I'm serious." He said with an amused laugh. "It's what anyone does when they're tired of a persistent opponent. Just keep beating them until they quit." He added on a bit more seriously. He had a point, and Dwight was willing to bet the gambler himself had dealt with that same scenario against more skilled gamblers as he got better at the art.
Laurie joined in. "How do we even know it's messing with us, this whole forest looks the same and there's no landmarks anywhere. What if we're just genuinely lost?" She proposed, raising her eyebrows as if it was obvious.
"Enough!" Bill shouted as he lost his cool.
That was when Dwight realized just how much he was holding himself in check. He was probably worried out of his mind despite being told by Meg herself that she was safe at The Macmillan Estate. Now that paternal worry was surfacing and it wasn't pretty.
"Either way the only option we have is to deduce which direction is most likely to take us where we want and stick with it. So does anyone want to take a guess?" He said with annoyance oozing from his words, a small glare formed in his eyes when he looked at them.
Dwight sighed and went to respond, he wanted to de-escalate the situation and try and calm the older man down. Perhaps he could say that they all were worried about Meg, but they had to stay calm.
He never got the chance too. Because before they knew it a familiar screech could be heard, followed by a fast moving whoosh of air.
Sally Smithson materialized in front of their group, her ornate and light pink bone saw raised high. However, she didn't swing, she paused and held still as they all jumped away from her. Even Dwight was spooked by her sudden appearance.
"Oh?" She said inquisitively, her head slowly turning and looking at each one of them before landing on him.
"Oh hello Dwight!" She said in an uppity tone, hovering closer to him almost immediately. "Such a pleasure tok see you again, and it hasn't even been too long since we last met." She commented, most of her focus on him. Her bone saw was clipped onto the back of her belt, and her hands came forward to gently clasp each other at the front of her waist.
A true proper woman of...whatever era she was from.
"H-hi Sally." Dwight said, cursing himself for stuttering. Which of course only made The Nurse giggle.
Dwight collected himself in indignation. "It's good too see you too, but you're kind of making everyone else nervous." Dwight said, cringing at how poorly he worded his sentence. How else was he supposed to say it?
"Oh right, silly me." Sally said while placing an arm over her upper chest. "Did you ever tell them how we met?" She asked, leaning down ever so slightly so her head would be level with his. Dwight couldn't tell while she hovered but she didn't seem like a very tall woman. Only her levitation put her above them all.
He nodded to her.
"Perfect!" She said cheerily before turning to face his friends. "Hello everyone, it's nice to meet you. My name is Sally Smithson, and before I continue let me just say I'm not going to hurt you." She assured, showing both of her empty hands to prove her point.
"I heard one of you shouting and thought it was that band of killers called The Legion. I thought that Frank was abusing that poor girl again." She said, her voice loosing its happy tone as sympathy weaved its way in.
Jake's face immediately morphed from hesitant to interested. The woodsman took a bold step forward. "Wait? Which one is Frank, and he abuses one of the girls?" Jake asked, his voice sounded on edge.
Dwight felt stupid for not noticing that Jake had grown to care about that Legion girl Susie more than he'd let on.
Sally turned to face him directly. "Frank is one of the boys of course, he has that smiling mask with blood on the teeth. Julie is the girl with that same mask, Joey has the skull, and Susie has that blank mask." Sally informed them all. Half of what she'd said they'd already knew, but Dwight supposed they now knew the other two Legion member's names.
"But Frank always pushes poor Susie around, so does Julie. I hadn't done anything whenever I noticed because Susie always told me not too, but I decided I wasn't going to allow it anymore this time." Sally said with a dangerous edge to her voice.
She might have been a sweet woman who didn't like killing the innocent, but there was a rage there that showed why she was a killer and not among their family.
Dwight briefly imagined what she'd look like without her hood, as a survivor.
He swiveled his head to focus back on Jake, and to his shock the Asian man was completely raging. On the outside he just looked irritated, his fists were balled to the point of his knuckles going white and his jaw was clenched. To most he would just look irritated and tempted to hit whoever had pissed him off, but Dwight, as well as everyone else knew him.
He was about ready to kill someone and explode in anger so badly it would've made Bill's previous shouting look meek by comparison.
"Oh I understand." Sally suddenly said, still looking right at Jake. "Oh that is simply precious." She added on. "It's very chivalrous of you to be angry on her behalf, I knew a couple of girls who would have killed to have a guy treat them so lady like, but you don't have to worry. Last I heard from Frank and Julie, Evan showed up and slaughtered them all, Susie and Joey left when The Entity brought them back and they haven't been seen since." Sally said.
Jake looked like a vein in his neck would pop.
"But between me and the rest of you, I know Evan didn't kill her or Joey. He sees her as a little sister. He probably just killed Frank and Julie and let them go." She said with a short laugh, imperceptibly hovering closer to Dwight.
No one but him noticed.
Dwight took a moment to take in her appearance. She wasn't in her usual dress from the trials, or the occasional times she'd wear a World War Two nurse uniform. The dress she currently wore was the same in design as her normal one, but this one was a darker. It had lots of grey, and the areas without it were still darker than the original.
Yet another feminine giggle brought his eyes off her dress and back to her hooded head. Sally wasn't looking at him, still facing his friends, but he could tell it had been something he'd done to earn such a reaction. She was totally looking at him from the corner of her eye.
Jake relaxed when he fully registered her words, his hands unclenched.
"Well now I simply have to ask!" Sally said. "Where exactly are you all traveling? Perhaps I could help?" She offered, sounding curious. Yet there was also an almost childlike playfulness to her.
Dwight stepped up. "O-oh, we're trying to find The Macmillan estate, one of our friends told us she's staying there." He said, really hoping Sally knew where the estate was.
Sally tilted her head and giggled lowly, her playful aura changing into a borderline seductive mischief. "Your friend wouldn't just so happen to be a survivor with red hair? One who was turned into a killer?" Sally said knowingly, shocking them all.
"H-how did you know?" Dwight asked, looking up at her like she was psychic.
"Oh you don't think I'm called The Nurse for nothing do you? Who else do you think Evan took her to so her burns could be treated?" Sally said, clasping her hands behind her back and leaning forward rapidly.
She floated back with a giggle as she watched their faces morph into understanding, and then hope.
"The Trapper brought Meg to you?" Bill asked calmly. It was surprising to Dwight he didn't sound angry or impatient, just curious.
"Yes indeed! He showed up with her in his arms and all but demanded I helped her. Wouldn't leave her bed side either, I had to tell him to leave the room so I could treat her while still respecting her privacy." Sally said with a giggle. "Evan didn't mean anything by it, I'm quite sure he was more worried about leaving her alone than not getting to see her in such an exposed state." Sally said, knowing exactly what most of their minds had jumped to.
Bill looked somewhat uncomfortable at the current conversation topic. Dwight couldn't help but share his feelings.
"But then of course when he came back he was drenched in blood! In the time it took me to bandage the girl's back and legs he'd managed to get all the way to the chapel, kill Jeffery, and then come all the way back." Sally marveled with disbelief, almost sounding like a mother bragging about her child's abilities.
"Wait, who's Jeffery?" David asked, getting almost everyone else to nod or murmur in agreement.
"Oh Jeffery is the fat one with clown makeup. I'm sure you know him?" Sally asked.
A wave of disgust washed through their group, but Sally continued before they could stew in it any longer.
"I made him clean the blood off and he came back in, and I have never seen that man be so gentle with another person. It was painfully obvious he loved her, he looked at her like she was the most precious thing in the world. Eventually he took her back to his estate and I haven't seen either of them since. He was supposed to tell me when she woke up so I could check on her, that and he owes me the story of how he met her." Sally chuckled wistfully, looking back at each of them.
"Oh, pardon me, I'm afraid I'm quite the talker." Sally said with a laugh, completely at ease with admission. Not even the slightest trace of embarrassment or awkwardness in her posture. "You mentioned wanting to find The Macmillan estate?" She asked.
Dwight felt a little confused at Sally's sudden switch, but decided to not think too much about it. He nodded in congruence.
Sally clapped her hands and then let them spread out in invitation. "Well then, I can take you right too it, Heaven knows you need the help." She giggled. "You're about as far from it as possible." She said.
They all groaned in frustration.
Sally laughed. "Oh don't worry, it's only so far. So allow me to be your guide." She said with a theatrical bow. Dwight imagined that if she didn't have her hood on that she'd be flashing them the cheekiest smile they'd ever seen.
Her head turned to him. "Come along handsome." She addressed the others. "You all can come too." She teased with a laugh before pulling a one eighty and beginning to float away.
David and Ace gave him a look, and Dwight shrugged with an awkward smile when he remembered he hadn't mentioned how flirty Sally had been. He'd have to do a lot of explaining in that regard to them, but for now he just jogged ahead to catch up with their killer guide.
"Hello Dwight." Sally said in an overly sensuous tone which even he could recognize. Normally he would have just assumed it wasn't like...that, out of disbelief, but man she'd been open with that one. He felt heat rush to his face again and his stutter came back worse than it had in probably weeks, but Sally just giggled.
"You're cute when you're flustered." She said, this time loosing her seductress attitude for her previously light hearted and endearing one.
He chose to stay silent rather than embarrass himself further, although he wished he could have kept up with her and bantered back and forth. Too bad he wasn't born smooth.
Eventually the others caught up to them and started following closely, always on the lookout for an unfriendly killer.
Maybe with The Wraith having previously escorted them to The Macmillan estate, and now Sally helping them in equally important circumstances, they could bridge the gap between killer and survivor.
Not all of them were damnable, Dwight was just disappointed he hadn't realized sooner. He looked back at Sally floating calmly forwards. Occasionally she'd call out their change of direction when they reached certain spots in the woods. She was humming a soft tune that he couldn't identify, it sounded good, although it was somewhat hard to hear each note.
She seemed like the kind of girl who hid an incredible singing voice.
The voice of an Angel.
Evan opened his eyes to the manor's foyer, looking right at the center of the its main chandelier. He'd seen that same dangling assortment of gold, glass, wax, and metal more times than he could remember. Ever since he was old enough to actually retain memories.
He'd run underneath it as a child when playing tag or hide and seek with his mother and even his father before he turned into a sociopath. His feet had carried him underneath it as a confused and hormonal teenager, still grieving his mother and kind uncle's deaths years after they'd passed.
Then he walked as a deeply depressed and miserable adult, numb to the world, abusing the workers on his father's behalf.
He'd actually thought of a story concept during that time. It was short, but introspective. The more he'd grown into isolation and anger, the only times he felt comfortable showing how he felt was when he was murderously angry or melancholy and unresponsive. He had reminded himself of a beast from fairy tales, miserable creatures who only existed to drag others down with them so they could feel better about themselves.
The only death he had seen fitting for himself was death in combat. Not in the military, but as if a hero from those same fairy tales came along and slayed him, saving the workers who's spirits had been crushed.
He hadn't thought it fitting to be killed by the workers rebelling or in some freak accident. He still had some pride, he would not be bested by someone he'd previously squashed under heel, nor would he be foolish enough to let the elements end him. He was too smart for that.
No, the only thing worthy was a noble person from the outside world. Who braved the trials and murder of the estate to save the workers, and in the end confronted him as the last and grandest act in his honorable quest.
A glorious death in battle that would be immortalized alongside the horrors of the mines.
Evan know that wouldn't happen of course, instead he suffered a much worse fate. A fate that is now fortunately beginning to look up.
He was taken here and slowly wrung out to dry. Lethargically the misery and bitterness dripped away like a cloth or pan hanging on a drying rack.
Then Megan came into his life.
When he spoke to her that fateful day in the suffocation pit, his change just kicked itself into overdrive. It was the difference of hanging a wet cloth inside in a dark room compared to out in the sun on a hot summer's day.
She was his guardian Angel, a gift from the man upstairs. The one he'd sent to guide him into a transformation.
Evan wasn't complete with that transformation, he probably wasn't even halfway done. The idea terrified him, of becoming something he was currently not, of the unknown. It petrified him even though he knew he'd become someone better, someone worthy of being in Megan's life. Some who didn't need to be slain by a hero. It was also kind of comforting, like an escape from becoming his father or meeting the same demise as his mother and uncle.
Although didn't know if he'd be brave enough to walk into that change by himself.
But Evan could find reassurance knowing Megan would have enough courage for the both of them, she'd be able to run straight into it while pulling him close behind her.
Evan sat up at a perfect ninety degree angle and glanced around the rest of his house. Contentment flowed through his veins momentarily, images flashed through his mind. He imagined the estate with a new look to it, a different color wall paper and maybe a bit more liveliness to it. Instead of royal red and gold walls, they were a nice tan color, some parts accentuated with white or dominated by the pale tint.
He heard the laugh of small children, soon after accompanied by rapid and light footsteps. Evan looked over to his left, seeing the hall that led to a banquet hall for guests. Two small children were running through it side by side, their unidentifiable faces looking behind them as if something was following them.
Soft footsteps followed after them, almost too quiet to hear. Then Evan saw her.
She was in a pure white cotton dress unlike anything he'd ever seen before. It had a long skirt, ending just above her ankles. It was rather plain other than some intentional folds in the design. Three on the actual skirt and three on each arm. There was a single white string around the abdomen tied together in a neat bow. Her quick and agile feet were bare, although Evan had a feeling she did that on purpose.
The sleeves ended just below the elbow, showing her forearms and hands. The skin on her right forearm wasn't pale, but it wasn't tan either, a perfect mix in between.
Her left forearm was burnt, but only lightly. There was faint pink scars marring the hand all the way up until it disappeared into the sleeve. It did nothing to subtract from her beauty. It anything it gave a unique element and mystery to her that made her ever more alluring.
The neckline of the dress stopped right on her collarbone in the front, and right before her shoulders slowly upturned into her neck on the sides. It held up the face Evan hadn't been able to get out of his mind.
She was even more beautiful than he'd ever seen her. She looked to have aged the tiniest bit, he couldn't accurately tell but he'd have to guess only four or five years older. Her hair was still it's beautiful crimson red color as it ran down her back. He actually recognized the style she had it in. He'd first seen her wear it with her fortune teller costume, it was his favorite look for her hair, other than when it was let loose completely.
She was smiling widely at him, her icy blue eyes had a playful twinkle in them as she stopped walking. She'd initially been going to follow the children, and Evan's heart skipped a beat when he connected the dots.
They were her's.
She looked over towards the hall where the kids had ran. "You better hide while I'm letting you!" She shouted playfully, her smile growing even wider when giggling echoed from where they'd ran. She calmly walked over to him, her hands resting gently on her skirt the whole time.
When she reached him she waved at him to stand up. Evan scrambled to his feet, captivated and curious. Meg didn't say anything, instead she raised her right hand and softly traced the piece of metal that dug into his back and then arched over his shoulder. It was the one holding up the right side of his overalls. She looked up at him in a way Evan had only ever seen once before in his whole life.
It was the way his mother had looked at his father when he was a boy.
Evan could hear his heart beating in his ears and feel it in his chest. This was a feeling he'd never felt before and it was overwhelming, but he'd gladly succumb to it forever. Evan looked over at the hand tracing the metal in his arm, it was then he noticed the gold ring adorning her ring finger.
He stared.
Meg giggled at him, then she took his mask of and held the sides of his face. Evan leaned into her hands, not at all minding the slightly calloused and waxy texture of her burnt one. He took great pleasure feeling the gold band on her finger press against his cheek and jaw.
He eventually kneeled down so he was more level with her, and Meg just giggled again.
"My bear, and my knight." She said teasingly. Hearing that, Evan couldn't be convinced otherwise that Meg had read the same fairy tale stories as he did, because this was right out of one.
Meg stepped closer and hugged him, and Evan basked in the attention. Then a thought popped into his head.
How was she hugging him without bumping the iron rods in his shoulder? Her arm was right where one of them should be. She had literally just touched one after all.
Evan slowly pulled back confused and stood up, but then started in shock as he noticed his appearance had changed. No longer was he in dirty black overalls with blood stained skin and hooks in him. Now he wore tan cargo pants, hiking boots, and a soft white button up shirt, the sleeves were rolled up to just below his elbows.
His skin was clean, although calloused as ever. The hooks in his shoulder and arms were gone, he looked down at Meg bewildered. She just smiled at him with affection in her eyes and leaned on her toes to kiss him on the cheek.
"You're going to be a great father Evan." She whispered with a smile.
Evan felt like his heart would explode.
He wanted to kiss her back, but right before he could Meg turned around and ran. Evan jerked in surprise before eventually regaining his wits and chasing after her. He couldn't loose her.
Despite being barefoot and in a dress Meg was no less quick, the fact that she didn't have socks gave her great traction. It let her stop immediately without sliding on the hardwood and make quick turns around corners. Thankfully his boots let him do the same.
Yet it wasn't enough, despite the fact that his longer stride and equal traction should have allowed him to keep up and even gain on her, she slipped away.
He kept following the sounds of her feet, no longer able to see her, but able to see her shadow and hear her laughter. Eventually he realized he wouldn't be able to catch her, and slowly came to a halt. He didn't give any thought to how he didn't feel out of breath whatsoever.
Once he stopped the same giggle could be heard from behind him. He spun around, and there Meg was, right before him, looking no different than she had minutes earlier. Evan didn't hesitate to grab her so she couldn't escape again, and then he kissed her. Meg responded as enthusiastically as he had, which made him feel infinitely better, of course eventually Meg gently pushed him away.
He didn't let go of her waist though, both of his hands stayed firmly locked behind her back. Meg just raised an eyebrow at him. He knew what would happen if he didn't.
"You know I'd never willingly leave you." She teased. "I might not always be right next to you but you'll never have to worry about me not thinking about you." She assured with a hug, her cheek resting on his chest.
Evan didn't know what to say in response, rather shocked at how well she'd read his mind. Did she already know him inside and out already? It was also hard to fully focus when most of his head was screaming at him to just bask in the comfort she was offering, especially when she clearly wasn't in any pain or cold like she usually was.
Then his eyes opened.
Evan jumped from his position, his back aching as he sat up in yet another ninety degree angle to look around him. His eyes had crust in the corners and his vision was blurry, he blinked it away slowly as he rubbed his eyes through his mask.
Wait? Didn't Meg take his mask off?
Evan looked down at himself only to be met with disappointment and shock. His skin was back to normal, blood and soot stained with hooks in it. He still wore the same gross and uncomfortable overalls, his cleaver was by his side, and he was still wearing this accursed and wretched mask.
Evan climbed to his feet, he needed to get Meg from her house. The itchy sensation of worry was already scratching at him knowing she wasn't safe here at the estate but alone in the wild with monsters lurking it.
First however, he had to get out of these clothes, even if it was just something else gifted to him by The Entity. So Evan unlocked the sequence to open the hidden door and trekked up to his bedroom, he went into the closet and grabbed his favorite outfit he'd been given.
He didn't understand how he was able to change masks when he couldn't remove it themselves. The one he wanted just seemed to materialize on his skull, but he didn't mind.
When he stepped out he wore dark black pants with brown boots, a chain and metal hook clip was tied around his waist like a pseudo belt. Instead of hooks wide but flat pieces of metal dug shallowly into his skin, it was less painful than the usual hooks. He had on the same white tank top he put on when sleeping, same pants too actually.
On his head was a gas mask, a tube connected to the chin that lead to a large air tank on his back. The meter strangely said it was empty.
Evan picked up the blade with it, a large and dull piece of metal connected to a broken and rusted piece of mining equipment. His brute strength was able to make the metal cut like a razor.
Now more comfortable and ready, he stepped onto the second floor. Just before he went down the stairs to the first, he heard snoring.
Right, Joey and Susie. The snoring was most certainly Joey, and Evan quickly knocked on Susie's door to see if she was there. All he heard was a sleepy groan and the sound of a bed creaking, so he snorted to himself and made sure to lock everything behind him as he left. He'd let them sleep.
With that, he marched into the woods to find Megan and bring her home. What he saw might have been a dream, but he would make sure it became reality, even if it took the years he suspected it would.