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XXX Chapter 4 Taking the Offensive

The Wraith was more excited and more fearful than he'd ever been.

He put his plan together in small chunks, hiding his intentions by summoning feelings of intense rage to fool his cruel master. Otherwise, his hope would tip off the Entity faster than any part of his plan would.

He was uncertain as to which order he should perform his plan in, and he was also uncertain as to which killers he should focus on first. He weighed their strengths and weaknesses in his head. These were the most difficult parts. One versus thirteen? Was he crazy? Yes, he was. He knew he was.

The Wraith stood from his lonely room and moved forward when he thought he was ready. He was utterly shocked by his confidence. All of the killers were accounted for, which meant that the survivors were probably resting. He'd go to them later. Right now, his first targets were killers who were among the least intelligent of them: the Hillbilly and Leatherface.

His crystal eyes considered the killers like he was considering allies, but inwardly, he regarded them as he used to regard the survivors—sacrifices. Taking them out would not be a problem. He held no reverence for the other killers; they were sadistic, and mindless, and lost to their madness long ago.

The two looked up at him. Hillbilly's deformed face disgusted him as much as it infuriated him. Leatherface looked at him blankly; he was too dumb to notice doom when it was right on his doorstep. The Wraith squashed the intense feelings of rage. He'd have to do this as passively as possible.

The Wraith gripped his weapon, and with all his force, he swung it along the lines of the killers' necks in a flash of lightning; it would have been like getting struck by a guillotine. The two went down, shrieking and screaming in unnatural ways that grated against the artificial world. Unpleasant bodily fluids stained the ground, and the Wraith knew that death had welcomed these two.

Unexpectedly, there was another shriek. It was like the wind had been knocked out of the Entity. It came from the world itself. Without the two killers' rage to contribute to its power, it should be weaker. The nasty gasping sound plugged through the Wraith's brain, but it was weaker than what he was used to. He was used to an unforgiving shriek that tortured him into submission.

The Wraith figured this meant he had some time—he could not be subjected to tortures while the Entity was gasping for breath.

The Wraith gathered the weapons of his victims. When the survivors awoke, these would be helpful. It was almost time for them to go on the offensive with him.

Something moved behind him, and he went rigid. Then he turned and relaxed some. It was the Pig. She was not a real threat to him. She was just some nasty thing who was drunk off her own nihilism. If you listened to her for too long, she'd drive you into a deep pit of despair. It was a mind game she liked to play with the killers sometimes. He hated the Pig, and he would show her who was meat and who was not.

She pointed at him and then pointed her thumb downwards. You're doomed. You were always doomed, he could hear her say. Faster than he expected, she lunged at him with her blades. He knocked the blades away from his eyes with his staff. It was a smart move to aim for his eyes; the blow would have opened him up enough for her to place her trap over his head. He shoved his staff upwards, underneath her chin, and exposed her face. With another swing, he crushed her face from a sideways angle. Her surprisingly heavy mask plunged to the floor, and the Pig experienced what she inflicted upon her victims with wide eyes. The Wraith scoffed.

Another terrible groaning entered the area. The Entity ordered help to defend itself because it had already lost three killers' rage to feed off of.

After recovering the Pig's weapons, the Wraith rung his bell and embraced invisibility. Come find me, he dared.

He ran. He'd long ago memorized every foot of the prison he'd lived in, and if his assumptions were correct, he should be able to reach the survivors' campsite without being impeded by the Entity's spikes. It felt so satisfying when he stepped through the path he'd never been allowed entrance before. An echo sounded; the Entity was screeching again, terrified that the Wraith was making progress.

Flickering occurred near the gate. Real ground could be seen on the other side.

Most of the survivors were still sleeping. He rung his bell and materialized, throwing the weapons to the ground. It woke them into a frenzy. Quickly, he used his voice, and he used it without fear: "Escape plan," he explained, his voice emanating a mysterious hiss.

Each of the survivors gaped. The women moved their hands to their mouths. Kate teared up. "I can't believe it. You came for us," she said. "I didn't expect this to happen so quickly. I wasn't even sure you still wanted to help."

Eyes shifted to Kate like she was the epitome of insanity.

"The Entity is being starved to death right now!" she explained. "The lack of sacrifices has made the exit possible! I convinced the Wraith to help us! I saw it in his eyes!"

More shocked expressions. All attention went to the Wraith again. His vexing stare gazed back. He supposed he could wait a couple of minutes for them to get their bearings.

"Kate, why didn't you tell us?" Claudette asked. She picked at her hair out of nervous habit.

"I didn't want to take the chance of the Entity hearing us!" Kate said, practically shouting. How good it must have felt to finally be able to use her voice.

The Wraith regretted the rising hope among the survivors, and he briefly considered sacrificing a couple of them. He'd believed that with as beaten as they were, they'd take this chance cautiously, and he reasoned that the killers' deaths would possibly offset the hope. At least the survivor called Kate had been smart enough to not bother telling the other survivors of her plan of talking to him. In addition to possibly being overheard, it would have sent waves of hope into the Entity's systems.

"Kill the killers," the Wraith said. That was their objective. "Starve of rage."

Understanding dawned on them immediately. Ace peered over the top of his sunglasses to the weapons on the floor. There weren't enough. Some would have to grab tree branches as defense. Regardless, he was more than ready to attempt escape. He'd take his chances like he always did.

Bill rushed to the chainsaw, eager to take advantage of the changing tides. He picked it up with some hesitation because even someone like him was disgusted by the gore stained into the weapon.

David Tapp was on edge. He stared at the Wraith longer than the others did. The Wraith noticed this and stared back. David was suspicious. The Wraith was an evil monster. He saw nothing that Kate saw. His ghostly eyes were as dead as he'd always seen them. If there was something he missed, it meant Kate's intuition was off the charts.

Bill nudged David, which broke him out of his stupor. "We're getting out of here. Just go with it."

"We're getting out of here!" Kate echoed, clasping her hands together. David turned to give her a disapproving look, which she didn't even notice.

David stepped forward to grab the hammer, squeamish of the nastiness. It was similar enough to a police baton, he supposed. Jeff Johansen grabbed the other chainsaw. The others picked up the blades and the branches.

Suitably armed, the team got ready. They'd be facing killers, and this time, they had the means to defend themselves. The ethereal being led the way, cutting through the prison effortlessly. His presence was the most reassuring thing they had felt in a long time.

XXX

I think this is my favorite chapter. Anyways, please leave a comment.

Comment question:

If you were trapped in the Entity, who would you pick for your teammates?