The Lost Leader
The Lost Leader was stalking the new survivor... Timothy Henry he heard his name was. He observed the boy, seeing that he was a wild child, being seen as an adrenaline junkie, looking for another high, and he hated that. His joy, his energy, everything he hated about people were embodied in that one person. The Lost Leader's blood boils, oozing through the stitches. "God I fucking hate him." The Lost Leader says.
Timothy was running aimlessly about the trial, his ADHD did him no favors in the trial grounds... so pretty much whenever he was needed, it would be better off to say that he was almost non-existent. He would find a chest and pry it open, fiddling with whatever was in it until his admittedly non-existent attention span dwindled dry. "I hear evil." He says to himself, dashing towards a locker, only to get snatched back by needles and threads... a clear indicator of who was hunting him. "Not him... anyone but him." His thoughts raced faster than usual as he broke the threads, only to be cut with the killers weapon... a metal flag. "When will you learn... even in death, you'll have no excape from me." The killer laughs, hacking off his limbs. Timothy dies yet again in another trial.
Timothy hates this place... he hates the killers, the other survivors are mean to him, and he always ends up dying so the others can escape. "I don't feel so good." Timothy vomits, even though he can't even remember the last time he even ate anything. "Worthless brat, of course you fucking die again." Jeffery jabs the kid with his finger. "The killer has something against me." Timothy studders, attempting to get back up. "They all do... Ugh here, let me help you." The older man helps him up. "Its true what they say... in the end we're all dead by daylight." Timothy wipes himself off.
The Lost Leader was stalking his reals... pissed because the entity took everything from him, and made his this Frankenstein's monster-esque abomination. "Why do they even try to run, my threads will always drag them back to me." Another twisted chuckle comes outta the admittedly vile leader. "Those damned survivors are always up to no good." The Leader bursts into maniacal laughter. "Do you even remember who you are?" A voice asks from behind. The leader weeps silent tears, remembering when he was in their shoes, a survivor named Dwight Fairfield. "You used to lead others out of the trial... now look at you, the one who once held others together, finds himself falling apart." The Voice taunts the lost Leader, causing him to lash out. "MY MIND IS STILL MY OWN." Dwight slashes at the air, them bursting into tears, realizing that he'll never be whole again. "But your mind is not your own... it belongs to me." The voice rings out, the entity shaking the realm, only to torment the new killer.