Warmth, a comfortable warmth. Soothing to chilled skin that sent pleasurable shivers over her entire body. A mountain of blankets cocooning both her from head to toe with a gap for her head to peek out of, and another large, warm body that she rested on.
Two giant arms wrapped under her knees and under her back held her possessively against a thickly muscled chest. Her head was resting on a beefy shoulder with heavy, but quiet breathing slipping in-between the cracks of her mask and hood. As well as the man's mask.
Wait? Mask and hood?
She pulled a hand out of the blankets to reach for her face, feeling the wood like material of the mask that she imagined the Legion's masks to be like. She was going to reach under the chin to pull it off when the hand holding her legs slipped away and gently cradled her small wrist, guiding it back to its original position.
The owners voice was deep, sleepy, and soothing. Murmuring indistinguishable but comforting words in her ear, and she nuzzled her head up into his neck when he leaned down close to her. Forgetting all about the desire to take the mask off.
Deep rumbling, kind of like humming came from the man's throat, further lulling her into a peaceful sleep. Surrounded by the warmth of the blankets, what she now realized was a crackling fire across the room, and the possessive, protective hold that screamed of safety. Of an unspoken promise to never let anything hurt her, she relaxed.
Curling up into a tighter ball so he'd have an easier time holding her, she rested all of her upper body on him and took in a deep breathe as sleep called to her once more.
Her eyes opened to rhythmic swaying. All but one of the blankets were gone, one thick one draped under and around her exposed side as she was carried through the woods by the same person as before. Her head still rested on his shoulder, the mask and hood still on her head and face.
When she turned to look to her left she was surprised at the sight that greeted her.
The campfire?
To say Claudette was worried was an understatement that was almost unparalleled. She was going out of her mind with worry and felt like she was about to explode. Everyone else had begun to notice.
At first it had just been Kate trying to calm her, but then Laurie showed up and Feng too, David having been right behind the Asian. Soon enough Claudette had everyone in her little family trying to help her relax, except for the two people she was freaking out about.
The others knew about their interactions with the killers. They knew about The Wraith and Nea, they knew about Meg and The Trapper, and most terrifying was that they knew about her and the Hillbilly.
Claudette honestly didn't know why she was so scared about the others finding out, it wasn't like any of them were in a romantic relationship with the three killers. Claudette had only spoke to Max once, it was the same with Nea. Only Meg had spent extra time with Trapper.
Just how much time had those two spent together?
"Claudette!"
She snapped her head up, some of her dreadlocks shaking loose at how quickly her neck turned. She met the face of the blonde blue eyed girl infront of her.
Laurie was many things to many people, and to Claudette, slightly intimidating was one of them. But thankfully due to Meg's nature she didn't have to step into the direct spot light and deal with survivors skirmishes directly. Only ever cleaning up the injuries that followed while Meg and the others made sure new ones didn't show up.
Laurie put her hands on Claudette shoulders. "I'm worried too, but we can't freak out alright? I'm sure they aren't in danger, just probably got a little lost. Once they get called into a trial they'll get put back here once it's over okay?" The blonde assured, Ace and David nodding their heads absent minded while watching the other survivors carefully. Occasionally making comments here and there about certain ones trustworthiness or morals.
Claudette wasn't fully convinced. "I-I know but Nea knew what Meg was going out there for and now Nea's headed in the same direction, besides what if they are in danger? I know none of you would be able to live with yourselves if either of them got hurt." Claudette pleaded, chewing on her bottom lip nervously while anxiously bending her knees.
Bill sighed, and Claudette looked at him with eyes full of hope. She knew how much he cared about Meg, everyone knew he treated her like a daughter and she returned the sentiment.
David leaned down and whispered something in Feng's ear. The Asians face fell, her eye lids drooping in sadness at whatever she'd been told.
"You're right Laurie... they could be just lost. But we don't know what will happen if they get hurt outside of a trial. We don't even know if they are just lost, a killer could have already spotted them by now. We can't take that risk." Feng said firmly, the determination she'd gained from endless hours gaming against thousands of opponents rising up to the surface.
"Well we can't just rush in there blind or we'll be the ones needing saving. We gotta plan this out, what formation we're goin in, where we're goin, and how we get out." David said, Bill nodding with a surprised but satisfied look on his face.
"Wait when did you get so smart about military tactics?" Feng questioned while crossing her arms. Raising one eyebrow up at him inquisitively and fixing him with her best penetrating stare.
David was not one to back down from a challenge however, and merely chuckled at her with an over dramatic bow. "I may not have been in the army My lady but I know how to fight against a stronger opponent. If some of us conceal ourselves as we travel then they'll never know just how many of us there are." David said with a wry grin, standing back up to face Feng.
"He's right." Bill said, standing next to Ace while continuing to watch the others. "We'll find them but we gotta be smart about it. Cheryl saw both of them leave right? Then we'll go ask her." He finished gruffly. He was handling the situation well but Claudette could see the wrinkle in his brow, he was worried for Meg.
"Hold on now, just cause we have a plan don't mean we know what we're gettin ourselves into!" Kate said. "We don't know why Meg went after The Trapper or how many other killers are out there or how many won't try an butcher us!" Kate said in her southern accent. Looking around and meeting each of their eyes before finally settling on her.
"Claud, You've got to tell us what happened with that Hillbilly, and anything Meg mentioned about The Trapper." Kate said imploringly, her eyes softening in both compassion and worry.
Claudette brought a hand over her mouth and jaw as she looked up at the sky, trying to conceal her expression so she didn't completely loose her cool. She closed her eyes and sucked in a deep breath, slowly taking her hand away before being surprised at the feeling of an arm around her shoulders. Her eyes shot upwards to find none other than Ace pulling her into a side hug, still wearing his signature cap and sun glasses.
"Take your time plant smart, but not too long." He said with a smile. The humorous charisma that had earned him multiple friends and even the affections of Kate always present. "You don't really think ol' Ace here wouldn't like you just because the Hillbilly seems to like you right?" Ace asked with mock hurt, placing his free hand on his chest dramatically and then sweeping it widely at everyone else.
Claudette laughed quietly at his antics. Ace never ceased to make everyone smile, and it was much needed at the moment as a few quiet chuckles could be heard from the others.
"Thanks Ace, I just wish I knew more. All that Meg told us is that when the Trapper first started acting weird that he'd trap her in lockers for most of the trial. Then he gave her the hatch once everyone else was dead. I don't know what happened inbetween but him and Meg talked and she got this crazy idea to go out and find the Trapper in the woods." Claudette said, entirely out a breath by the end. Before taking one large inhale and continuing.
"She told me that there's a certain point in the woods we're the fog gets too thick to see through, and no matter how you walk you always end up where you started. One day she told me the fog was gone and the woods behind it were open, she went in there and found him tracking the Nemesis. She never mentioned what they talked about."
Claudette statement was met with silence. All of her family members staring at her in surprise and shock, some of them were wide eyed while others were stoic. Claudette stood up straight, breathing deeply and turning to face the forest.
Laurie beat her to saying anything. "Nea went after Meg a little bit after she left...Every killer we've ever seen could be out there with them, and the only ones we know won't kill them are Trapper, Wraith, and Hillbilly. But we don't know if they'll spare us, The Trapper seems to only have a soft spot for Meg." Laurie surmised, Her face looking grim.
Silence fell on the group. Each of them looking at the woods and each other intermittently.
Why was this happening? Claudette couldn't wrap her head around it. Why now of all times did the trio of killers decide to have mercy right before the fog fell. It couldn't be a coincidence. Then a horrible thought dawned on her.
"Guys, what if this is all apart of something bigger? What if the Entity planned this?" Claudette spoke, her voice just above a whisper as she never took her eyes off of the tree line. Praying that Nea and Meg would come out from the darkness and prove her wrong.
"What do you mean? Why would it do any of this?" Feng asked, sounding confused.
"I don't know." Claudette responded. "I don't know why the Entity even keeps us here, but what if it wants something from us, or from the killers? It's been a decent time since Jonah arrived. Why hasn't someone else showed up?" Claudette asked.
"What are you saying Claudette." Bill said warily, staring her down and demanding an answer with just his eyes.
"I'm not positive on anything, and I don't want to scare anyone either. But this can't just be randomly happening, what if the Entity is mad at us or something though?" Her statement was confused, but insightful, and Claudette was hoping it really was just all speculation from hysteria and worry.
Bill spoke up, his tone laced with worry for both girls, but still exuding the authority of a soldier. There was an air of finality in his tone, but also something more serious, almost like the prelude to a serious prophecy.
A good or bad one.
"We can't wait too long, not with them in danger. Let's figure something out quick, and let's try and stay cool and calm all right?"
Nea awoke slowly.
Her head throbbed, her left cheek, leg, arm, and side all stung. For a brief moment Nea forgot what happened, until it all came back in an instant. The Clown's assaulting of her, the pink gas everywhere, the knife slicing into her. Not deep enough to seriously injure, she noticed, just enough to temporarily incapacitate. Her deep ocean blue eyes opened. Tiny bits of crust in the corners of her eyes that she tried to blink away alongside her blurry vision. She could feel dried tear marks around her eyes, the feeling you got several hours after being done crying.
Nea was in a bed, a rather large one. It easily could have fit two more people of her width next to her. The sheets were off white, but soft and comfortable. She was almost tempted to close her eyes, fall back asleep and dream. But she wouldn't let herself.
She sat up slowly, shivering at the rush of cold air. Noticing that her tank top was neatly folded on a dresser across the room.
Wait what!
Nea's head snapped downwards to her torso only to realize that she was wearing a fluffy hoodie. It was basic, no patters and all grey, but it was cozy and Nea couldn't say she hated it. Still slightly concerned she pulled the hoodie's collar forward to peek inside and let out a sigh of relief when she saw that her sports bra was still on and untouched.
She reached a hand up and felt her head, only being met with the texture of hair. Taking another glance over at her tank top she noticed that her beanie was next to it, and next to that was a pair of unfamiliar pants that were the same grey as her new hoodie.
The room was all wood, the floor, walls, and ceiling all being a dark shade of a wood Nea didn't recognize. There was a closed door to the right with a window next to it, revealing the railing of a balcony and a green night sky. To the left was a large stone pillar in the center of the room with a stair case behind it and the dresser next to the railing on the other end of the square pillar.
Nea threw the rest of the covers off and saw that her pants from before were still on, and that the cut in them from where the Clown sliced at her leg had been sewed shut. She rolled the leg up to check on the injury, and saw that while it wasn't horribly deep, it was still stitched. So was her left arm and cheek. Her shoes were still on as well, entirely devoid of glass dust or blood drops, same with her socks.
Suddenly Nea heard a noise come from outside the building, and she shot to her feet despite the cold. She could hear a fire crackling below her, but that wasn't what she had heard. Where even was she?
With a sweeping glance at the room and from what little she could see out the window from her position she concluded she was on the second story of whatever building this was. Slowly, she creeped over to the window, tip toeing despite being reasonably confident no one else was inside.
Yet.
When she was close enough to open the door she reached a hand out to the handle, but stopped herself halfway. Mentally face palming, she walked past it and peeked out the window.
The balcony on the other side largely hid the the ground, the only things she could see were of a decent distance away, but the moment she saw them she knew exactly where she was.
The blood lodge.
She couldn't see far enough to the right to see the killer shack but she bet that if she went out on the balcony she'd spot it in the distance. However, the only confusing thing was that other than the map design and one of the various pickup trucks. Nothing looked quite like it did in the trials. The piles of junk were out of place, some scattered and gone, and the one jungle gym she could see had been largely closed off. No pallets in sight and the vaults all boarded off.
Now that she thought of it Nea did notice that the lodge was in better shape than it was in the trials. The dresser where her clothes rested was where there was usually a hole in the floor. The cracks in the walls were sealed and there was actual doors and glass where the should be.
Well, should she check on that noise from up here or down there? Either one had risks of getting spotted, but hopefully they'd assume that she was down on the first floor ready to run rather than stuck up here.
Top floor it was. Nea slowly gripped the handle, turning it at an agonized pace and grimacing at each squeak that she heard from the door. Finally, with a heart stopping creak, the wooden door slowly opened enough for Nea to crouch walk over to the not yet repaired railing and check over the edge.
Now that she could see directly beneath her Nea saw a particularly large pile of junk that seemed to have fallen off of the back of one of the pick up trucks. She could also see one of the massive trucks meant to carry the flattened cars in the distance, stuffed to the brim with scrap metal that was no longer littered about the arena and shut closed.
The most disturbing part was that whatever caused that noise was gone. No one was near the fallen scrap pile next to the lodge and she couldn't see any movement in the distance, even with the new lack of hiding spots.
That was when she became aware of creaking from inside. Soft foot steps, so soft she couldn't even hear them. But the wooden floor boards betrayed the person walking as they slowly came up the stairs.
Nea felt like a mouse about to be cornered by a cat. She frantically looked around, the only window would just take her right back into the main room. The only ways down to the first floor were to jump over the railing, but then she'd just end up right behind whoever it was. Or she could barge right into the person coming up the stairs and run past them.
It was either that or jump over the broken railing, which could potentially impale her, and then fall down to the ground and run. But she could do that, she'd made that jump plenty of times in the trials and with way less time to plan.
But before Nea could get closer to the edge The Wraith himself came though the balcony doorway, as imposingly tall and eerie as ever.
Then she fell.
Nea was rather ashamed of herself to admit that she'd panicked and taken a step backwards without thinking. Her foot caught on what little remained of the railing and she began to fall backwards with no control or balance. A scream tore from her throat as the few broken beams that remained broke off and fell below her.
But she stopped when she felt a large and rough hand grip her ankle. Holding onto her tight and making sure she wouldn't slip out. Nea's head curled forward to stare upwards. The Wraith's face was devoid of any patters or paint, in fact his face seemed easier to make out than usual. His scars were more distinguished alongside facial features like his lips and cheeks.
The arm holding her leg flexed, and with a squawk she was lifted upwards. His other hand gripped her higher on her leg until he could grasp the front of her hoodie and pulled her upright. She was brought into his chest while he took several steps away from the edge, his hold reassuring and firm, and in the moment Nea was grateful to know she wouldn't fall like that again.
There was rather awkward silence for several moments, he too was breathing rather heavily despite not having been the one in danger and it was perplexing. Why had he saved her? Twice now.
Either way she gripped onto him tightly for safety, trying to calm her racing heart and waiting for the adrenaline to die down before she trusted herself to say anything. Better to be calm about this instead of blabbering like an idiot.
"W-why, did you save me." Nea asked. Not looking up at him, instead deciding to keep her head in his dark shirt while his all black cape fell around both of them. Her present savior was quiet, just breathing in his ever present gurgle like rasp as he stared somewhere behind her.
"It would take hours for me to explain it all." He said cryptically, letting his arms slide from their protective position around her back to her arms, gently guiding her back indoors. She allowed him to lead her, taking numerous small steps to match his few, large ones. When they were back inside he shut the balcony door lightly.
"Well, I don't know how much time I have, but I wanna know." Nea said hesitantly, looking up at him like he was a puzzle box. Not knowing whether to hope he was a thousand piece jigsaw puzzle, or a legendary riddle.
"I... I guess I'll try and keep it on the short side then." He prefaced, very slowly and very hesitantly letting her go, something Nea noticed with interest. His dark and scarred hands slipped away, leaving shivers from the air and lack of contact in their wake. It made her realize just how much softer her skin was by comparison.
"It is similar to what I told you before. Something about you just fascinates me, I do not know if what I see in you is like what Evan sees in your red haired friend but-" He was cut short.
"Wait, Evan? You mean The Trapper?" Nea asked flabbergasted, slightly surprised that killers even had human names.
"Yes, If that is what you call him. If I may ask, what am I called by the survivors?" The Wraith asked with a tilt of his head. At the reminder of who he was Nea's eyes drifted to his belt, noticing the lack of an axe or bell on his person, and wondering where they were. "We call you The Wraith. You're the scariest of all the stealth killers to us." Nea added on, questioning herself as to why she mentioned that small detail.
The Wraith hummed. Almost akin to a deep growl in his throat, the prelude to a primal roar of a lion fighting an opponent. At least that's what Nea thought of when she heard it, beyond the instinct to run at such an obvious sign of aggression.
"Please, Call me Phillip. Phillip Ojomo." Phillip said quietly, an air of sadness and nostalgia crossing his face and weaving its way through the threads of his voice. There was obviously some sad memories attached to the name, or perhaps it was because of how long it had been since anyone would have referred to him by it.
Nea looked up at him, taking in his face. His lips were in a line, not curling upwards, but not downward either. His cheeks were burnt like most of his head, but his eyes were almost heart breaking.
They were a beautiful shade of amber, a deep, dark golden color that was more human than any of the fake golden eyes any killer had in the trials. Nea had always thought it was stupid when the few books she'd touched in school talked about how expressive the eyes were, or that they were the window into the soul. But these were more expressive than your average eye balls, there was only so much emotion that could be conveyed with just his eye lids, but they held an enchanting effect that spoke of something deeper to him.
Combined with his impassive, if not sad features, and it was hard to not humanize him. He didn't seem like he wanted to even be here. But if that was the case than why was he a killer and not a survivor like her?
Nea took a step back to look him up and down.
That was why. He was so huge despite being on the thin side that the killers like Legion or Ghost face would never be able to take him down, much less pick him up. She doubted all but the strongest killers would be able to even lift him more than an inch.
"Nea, Nea Karlson. Thank you, for saving me both times back there. I know I was pretty rude last time we spoke and, I'm sorry. You aren't what I thought you were. You're definitely much better than the Clown at least." She said with a upturn of her lips, letting out a short laugh to try and diffuse the situation. Something that worked. Phillip's lips turned upwards in a charming smile. "I was only doing the right thing. But you are most welcome." Phillip said, still having that smirk on his face. Nea smiled back, trying to not overthink the situation and cause any unnecessary tension.
But all that went out the window when she opened her fat mouth.
"Uh, did you stitch the knife wounds I got? And clean my tank top?" Nea said. Rather embarrassed as her cheeks heated up. She pointed both index fingers over at the article of clothing in question while looking at the floor in discomfort. Her eyes looked up, and while she could barely see his face. She would have bet all she had that underneath the seemingly irremovable dirt and scars that he was as red as a fire truck, even with his naturally dark skin.
"O-oh no no, I asked Sally to do all of that. She's better at anything medicinal than me anyway. She also was the one who sewed and cleaned your clothes." Phillip admitted with a scratch at his back, bending his right shoulder so far the elbow was directly behind his head.
"Ew how are you able to do that? And who is Sally?" Nea said, her face scrunching up in disgust as she pointed at his arm.
Phillip craned his head to the side, glancing at his arm. "Oh, I'm just very flexible in my shoulders I guess. It helps reaching spots on my back I normally wouldn't be able to. But Sally is another killer like me, she floats and always has a linen over her head?" He said, his tone turning questioning as he tried to help her identify which killer she was.
"The Nurse? Well I guess that kinda makes sense. I just didn't think she was a real nurse, but I guess I was wrong about you too so why not?" Nea offered. Not knowing what else to say briefly. "Where did you get this hoodie? Because there's no way it fits you, and I doubt you have anyone else coming by often." Nea asked. Phillip smiled again, reaching over her shoulder to grasp the edge of the hood inbetween his index finger and thumb. The hood soon fell over her eyes as Nea squeaked in surprise, flipping both the hood and her hair upwards in outrage and glaring at the Nigerian. Said Nigerian was already chuckling at her expense.
"Once again you must thank Sally. She lent it to me for as long as I, or you in this case, needed it. She made it herself, said that she was curious about how I felt to wear one of those since she'd never seen one before your friends started wearing them." Phillip answered, like Nea he also had very light traces of his accent in his voice. It was rather hard to hear as he'd long since learned fluent English.
"Oh." Nea muttered, looking over the hoodie with renewed interest. "She must be quite the seamstress."
"She is, but you can compliment her yourself when you get the chance. All I did was carry you over so she could treat you and then carry you back here." Phillip said. He began moving backwards while gesturing for her to follow him down the stairs and out to the lodge's front door to the large grassy field out front. He grabbed his bell and axe from a table near the front door before leading her out onto the small porch.
Her eyes went wide when she saw how open it was.
Phillip had cleared away almost every pile of trash in the arena. It was all piled into the back of pick up trucks or the larger junk cars. It also seemed that one of the jungle gyms had been stuffed with it and then sealed off. Were those welding marks?
"Evan helped me with the metal. Once I got all of it in those massive trucks he helped seal it closed. But that's not why I brought you down here. I know we've only spoken twice but I've also already saved you twice, so hopefully you don't mind. Sally asked me to bring you back to remove the stitches. Are you alright with me carrying you?" Phillip said timidly, one hand out invitingly, but not extended very far. He was waiting for her to decide and seemed rather nervous that she'd say no.
Nea however, felt less hesitance or confusion than she thought she ever would in this situation.
"Alright." She said with a competitive smirk. "But you're giving me a piggy back ride." Nea said with a grin, moving to go behind him.
Phillip chuckled, but bent down on his knees and held his hands out behind him. Because even bent down like he was he was still huge and his head was level with hers. Nea put her feet in his hands and hoisted herself up until her head was above his right shoulder.
"If you could please hold yourself up for a moment." Phillip said, giving her a moment to suspend her legs before he let go and grabbed his axe and bell.
"Wait what are you doing?" Nea said, raising her eyebrows.
"You'll see." Phillip said cheekily. Ringing his bell twice and cloaking.
Cloaking her as well.
Nea sat almost entirely invisible on his back, still able to see her own body, but also able to see through it should she wish it. The sensation was like taking drugs, and she hadn't even tried many! Just a tiny bit of random ones here and there in high school.
Eventually the vertigo became too much and she looked away, hiding her eyes in Phillip's shoulder so they wouldn't hurt anymore.
"Oh gosh I think I'm gonna be sick, how do you not trip over yourself?" Nea squeaked out, already feeling queasy. All she got in response was an infuriatingly endearing, but cocky chuckle.
"I reacted quite like you the first time Cloaked myself, and I did trip over myself. However, I'm used to it now. But this is for both our safety and convenience. The other killers will never know you're here and I move faster like this. Now please fasten your seat belt M'lady." Phillip said, his accent changing to that of a conductor before he began walking. Thankfully his hands returned to her feet, making her feel just a little more secure. Hopefully he wouldn't drop her.
Although he hadn't last time, so why would he start now?
Meg was genuinely proud of herself at the moment.
Not only had she managed to remember where she'd first seen the Nemesis and found Evan, but she'd even managed to remember the correct direction and path.
So here she stood in front of the wrought iron gate of the Macmillan estate.
Without a way in.
The brick wall wasn't unbelievably high. But it was 10 feet up, not counting the metal bars that looked like spikes at the top. There was nothing she'd be able to use to climb up, not even the gate. It only had two horizontal metal bars and they were at the very top and very bottom of the gate.
Nea might have been able to scale it without anything to assist her, but she was not that good at climbing compared to her sister.
So she was stuck now, getting more nervous by the second as she remained there. She didn't know if another killer would come by here. Evan had made it clear that a more despicable killer was capable of coming to this spot in the woods, but Evan also made it seem like they couldn't get in unless the gate was left unlocked.
So if they killers couldn't get over the fence what chance did she have?
As Meg pondered over a way in and what to do next she lost herself in her own thoughts, and she almost sweared loudly when a twig snapped from somewhere back in the woods. She whirled around, knees bent and ready to run, but nothing was moving.
Then a small figure zipped from behind one tree to another in the dark shadows of the distance forest. Too quick for Meg to identify, but it didn't seem like Ghost face. He didn't seem capable of moving that fast.
The figure showed its head again, but it was at an entirely different tree dozens of feet away from where it previously had been. All Meg could see was its head, and there were two little golden eyes watching her. Sometimes they flashed with a splash of orange or red, but never blinking.
A scream rang out from the distance. It was so distant Meg couldn't place who it was, just an echo that scared crows from the trees, ones that didn't dissolve into embers. The crows just sat there, hovering above the tree tops watching her with their beady little red and black eyes.
The Entity was watching.
Meg had to get out of there. She was trying to think of a way to get into the estate, but without a key and nothing to climb on scaling the wall was impossible. Digging would take too much time that she didn't have.
The figure's head peered around another tree, closer this time. The golden eyes bigger and less stable.
Meg's eyes raced across the trees, maybe she could climb one? She followed a particularly long branch and saw how it stretched long over the road and the fence of the estate. But also over a dozen feet in the air. Meg suddenly remembered a video she'd seen in the real world. One where a man on top of his shed had used a large tree branch similar to this one to get back down to earth.
Another tree hosted the golden eyed killer, even closer. So much so Meg could even make out the persons arms, and begin to see some color on their outfit.
She could run, but if this killer was like the Legion whatever power the Entity gave them would let them out run her. Even if they couldn't who knew who'd she'd run into trying to escape. Like The Doctor.
Out of the frying pan and into the fire.
The figure peaked around one of the only remaining trees before the road started and Meg would be screwed. But for her tree plan to work Meg was probably going to have to run right at them anyway.
"Accept. The fire."
Ghostly dark fog rolled in slowly from the heart of the forest, right were the golden eyed killer had come from. The voice was just like the one she'd heard when she had been in that trial all by herself.
Meg booked it.
She tore across the dirt road at an angle, heading for the tree to the left of the killer. Panting that was similar to her own soon followed, the same killer from her lonesome trial was hot on her trail and gaining.
Meg realized that the killer's eyes weren't golden, they were two small infernos, just like last time she'd seen the killer.
Meg zig zagged, trying to get them to trip up even a little bit, leaping upwards onto the higher forest ground and stomping on the leaves and twigs.
The killer had lost a little bit of distance when they left the road but it was made up for in seconds. Fortunately for Meg just a few seconds was all it took to decide who won a race and she threw herself up at a low hanging branch. Using her momentum to swing her legs up and get some traction on the tree bark.
Once Meg had managed to grip a higher branch and pull her self up the killer began climbing after her.
This killer just wouldn't give up would they!
The two women grunted in fierce exertion as they climbed, Meg kicked the girls hand several times and throwing anything she could find down at the fiery killer.
They climbed higher to the point where they were easily 15 feet in the air and if one of them fell at the wrong angle their neck would snap. Thankfully at around that height was when the thick tree branches split from the trunk and Meg could pull herself across the one that leaned over the estate wall.
The branch was thick at its base. Enough so that it could have held all of Meg's body weight without bending, but it got thinner, to the point where she'd only be able to hold on with her hands after it passed the fence.
A familiar, angered grunt echoed from behind. The fire killer had reached the branch as well and was beginning to inch their way forward. Meg looked down at the sharp metal spikes on the top of the Estate wall.
Please don't let that be how she died out here, and please don't let that be her final death.
With a fearful yell Meg tossed herself forward and clung to the end of the branch for dear life. The killer lunged as well, reaching a scarred, burnt hand out towards her. They both lurched forwards, rapidly approaching the ground.
But just like she'd hoped the branch gave, bending downwards and slowing her momentum until Meg could safely let go just a few feet above the grass. So she did.
The branch flew back upwards, not hard enough to woosh through the air, but enough to throw the killer's balance off. With a scream she fell over a dozen feet to the forest floor, and when she hit the ground, her body exploded into dark fog. The fog seemed to be hissing angrily at her as it slinked away through the gate and back into the woods.
Meg was breathing heavily, not calm enough to stand up. It was over, whatever the heck that thing was, was gone. The chase was over.
To say she was spooked was an injustice. How in the world was she supposed to react to that situation or know what the heck just happened? That was the same killer she'd seen from a while ago in that weird trial. That same killer that made yet a second reference to her "accepting her fate" or whatever that meant.
Should she mention this to Evan? She hadn't told him about the first time. In all the chaos of him and his friends suddenly showing mercy and even talking she'd forgotten all about it. She hadn't even considered the possibility that this was all related. Like the spark that set a whole forest fire off.
Maybe she shouldn't have done this. She hadn't even told anyone about what she was doing, and she knew her friends. They'd figure out what she was planning, what if they got hurt trying to find her? She probably should just find a way out and go back.
Any hope of that option was dashed when she realized that now she had absolutely nothing to help her climb the wall and there wasn't any trees to use her trick on again.
She was stuck in the Macmillan estate. Stuck alone with Evan, in a colossal forest, looking for a massive mansion. She couldn't help but shiver in both fear and anticipation, and then immediately cursed herself for being so immature.
Meg slowly stood up, turning around to stare into the beautiful but dark and mysterious forest. Who knows how many secrets this place held, all the people who died in it or the friendships that were made. Despite this being a dark recreation of the real thing, something she would have loved to see, it felt like it held something sacred.
Maybe not sacred, more like sentimental and valuable.
With the knowledge that she was safe from the other killers, and that the only other person here was Evan, someone she felt she could trust, she walked forward.
She'd been doing a lot of that hadn't she? Meg mused to herself. Walking forward into dangerous situations with nothing more than a distant hope and her own determination and athleticism. Well she wasn't getting bored of it, so why not keep the record going?
Here was number three, right next to seven hundred and sixty eight escapes in a row.
Yes she remembered exactly how many times she'd escaped. Despite having told the others that she had lost count, claiming only to know it was somewhere in the seven hundreds. She didn't remember why she'd decided to not share it, despite remembering how many times she'd escaped in a row. Or even how she remembered Feng and David being all sweet and soft on each other on her first escape of her streak.
But it didn't matter, she'd tell them when she got back.
Then metal jaws snapped closed on her right ankle.
Meg screeched, collapsing forward in shock and pain. Unintentionally dragging the trap with her and causing it to dig into her ankle more.
These jaws weren't like the ones in the trial, these hurt more, the teeth were longer, sharper. They weren't just one type of jaw like serrated or rusted. They were all of them. Lengthened, serrated, rusted, and and razor sharp, something that only traps sharpened with whatever honing stone put them on the ground if they got out.
There was also a glow to the trap. Something Meg had trained herself to spot after enough times encountering this honing stone. This trap would reset itself if she got out.
She just couldn't catch a break could she!
In her pain and anger Meg let out a scream of rage into the forest. By the end she was panting, a singular moist tear leaking from her eyes. Soon with more too follow.
It hurt so much more than any other trap of his she had stepped in, and it was only getting worse. Now it was starting to itch and burn. This trap was bigger, thicker springs, more power to it. Something that could actually take down a grizzly bear.
Just what on earth had Evan put on these things?
There was wax and oil on it as well. Both secondary and four spring coil mechanisms were in place just to top it all off. This was not meant to catch a survivor, something like this could've brought a third of the killers, the smaller ones at least, to their knees. Maybe even kill some of them.
The sensations refused to abate, and now beginning to fear for her foot and leg Meg reached her hands down and tried to pry the jaws open. Unfortunately the razor sharp and serrated teeth just ended up cutting her fingers, those starting to sting and itch too.
Meg looked around frantically, fear and panic making her feel nauseous. Or had Evan even gone far enough to put poison on these things?
There!
Meg reached out and just barely managed to graze her fingertips against a thick piece of wood. She rolled it several inches closer until she could firmly grasp it, then with one more sweep, and another agonizingly painful reach for a random piece of metal rebar, Meg shoved the rebar into a gap in between the teeth to the side of her foot. She used the rebar to pry the teeth open just a few centimeters, then being able to fit the thick wooden branch.
Using the branch a buffer Meg then grabbed the rebar again and with the power of physics and leverage, pried the teeth open enough to pull her foot out.
It was a good thing too because the wood snapped right after she got free, being crushed by the powerful jaws with a groan.
Meg caught her breath, trying and failing to hold back the tears of agony and quiet whimpers. The itchiness, the stinging and burning. She wanted to reach down and scratch at it so bad but she knew it would only make it hurt more. To make her situation worse whatever nausea she felt wasn't going away.
Meg wasn't squeamish, she hadn't been much in the real world but now almost nothing could phase her. So she knew it couldn't be how bad her ankle looked.
He really had put poison on his traps. Was he really that convinced that other killers would show up uninvited? Or was it just her own hysteria?
She needed to find him, there was no way he didn't have something to cure or treat the sickness and rashes. What if he forgot where a trap was and stepped in it? He was surely strong enough to get it off and stomp back to his mansion, so he had to have something stored there in case right?
Meg crawled across the grass, staining the front of her jeans and red track shirt with the dark earth. Her utility belt had to be taken off and slung around her back so it wouldn't catch on roots and small rocks. Her pace was slow, each stretch forced her to pull her leg and pain shot upwards with each one. She tried to keep her ankle up in the air as to avoid it getting infected or getting poked by debris, but her calf was getting tired and it put immense strain on her ankle to keep it up in the air for so long.
At least it was starting to go numb. Or was that yet another after effect of the deadly bear traps?
It probably wouldn't have been enough to stop someone as large as the Cannibal, but it would've surely been a powerful weakness to exploit and a handicap that would've given Evan the edge in any fight. No wonder she was reduced to a sobbing mess in the dirt after stepping in it. Was he really that sure that a killer would show up unannounced?
It felt like hours of dragging herself across the estate, having crawled through the entire shelter forest and even being able to see the coal tower in the distance. She finally saw the familiar Macmillan mansion.
Meg could have cried in relief.
Renewed and with rigor Meg put untapped strength behind her shaky arms. Dragging herself faster to the front door. She had never been inside the estate and she wondered what it looked like from the inside. Would it be as fancy as she imagined? Like the stereotypical mansions from movies? She didn't exactly know what she was hoping for, just something easy to navigate and find what she needed.
Meg reached the front door, and wanted to scream.
She had no way in! The door was huge, locked, and probably too freaking heavy for her to open even if she wasn't handicapped. Could this trip go any worse?
Thankfully nothing appeared at that exact moment to torment her further. There was no mocking laugh of the doctor or reappearance of the fiery killer, just the stillness of the woods and the taunting promise of aid behind the thick door that she sat against.
Was Evan even here? And if he was how would she even know if he was in the mansion? He could be off at the iron works or at the store house. Or just outright at another killer's map.
She really needed to think things like this through more.
Well, in her defense she hadn't realized just how many variables there was to consider, and she wasn't a rocket scientist. She was smart, but not that smart.
She was gonna be stuck here for a while until Evan found her. Thankfully her ankle was numb, but her calf was starting to tingle as well, the lack of feeling slowly creeping higher. There was a trail of blood from the direction she'd crawled in, leading out of sight. Thankfully getting thinner the closer it got to where she rested. At least the blood flow was slowing.
Hopefully Evan would spot her when he came back, and hopefully he'd help her out; although she didn't have much doubt that he wouldn't. He seemed to like her enough, and he wasn't a monster either.
Yeah, she could wait for him to save her.
Meg laughed lightly at the thought. Exhaustion wearing at her bones and making her eye lids droop. Truly the damsel in distress now wasn't she? Just what she'd swore she'd never be in high school.
She could handle being a damsel again, after all she had tried to help herself, but sometimes things didn't go your way. Besides, Meg never wanted to be that girl again. No...she liked who she was now just fine. The old Meg could burn for all she cared.
As her eyes drifted shut, her mind welcoming the embrace of sleep and escape from the pain. She saw a tall figure with a cleaver and bag on his belt approach her rapidly. Her eyes closed, and while everything was becoming more distant, she could feel the large hands lifting her. That, and the tough bone like texture that rested on her forehead.
Maybe it was the hysterics of how badly injured she was, but Meg smiled as she fell asleep. Evan had found her, she knew she'd be alright.
I am on freaking fire! I wanted to upload this last night but editing and proof reading took a while and I lost some of that editing progress when I was on my computer, I'm not used to computer writing since I'm mostly doing it on my phone during free time. But man I feel good!