Sing With Me - chapter 1
Summary: A dark melody wraps itself around her, stealing into her heart. Just like that time in the forest when she was carried up, up and away into this Hell.
A/N: I ship weird things. This is now one of them. I hope you enjoy my dark mini-series featuring Kate/Trickster.
When the darkness recedes Kate looks around, finding herself in a place she's been over a dozen times before: Azarov's Resting Place. She's not sure when she learned of the name or if she knew it the first time she came. As if there was a little voice in the back of her head, whispering to her whenever she appears somewhere new. She doesn't know who Azarov is - or rather was - she just knows… they died here.
Just like her and the other survivors have, except they don't stay dead. They're pulled in once every… day? Hour? Her sense of time has been lost since she came here. Since those weird spider legs descended from the heavens, dragging her to this hell.
She has no way of knowing how long she's been here, but she does know one thing: she's tired. And she's been pulled into another game that she never wanted to participate in. Get the generators done, help the others, escape without drawing the eye of the killer.. That's the goal she sets for herself. Of course it almost never goes that way. She will inevitably draw the killer's gaze: get stabbed with a knife, struck by a hatchet, a dead man's spine… and there was that gun that reeled you in like a fish. So many ways to die, only one way to live.
She doesn't want to feel the bite of a trap around her ankle or feel someone staring a hole into her back… she wants it all to stop. To escape permanently for once. A wishful dream of all those here.
Kate can hear someone fumbling with one of the generators not far from where she is standing, but she turns away, walking until she finds a rock and climbs on top of it. She wills her guitar into existence from the shadows clinging to the trees. It falls to the ground next to her rock and she picks it up gently, dusting it off before laying it in her lap.
She knows she should be helping the others in the trial, but all she wants is to be left alone to drown in the reality that she's never escaping here. It's just an endless cycle of death. What does it matter if she doesn't fight for one trial? There's always the next.
Kate raises a shaking hand to her guitar string, body on edge, just waiting for the sound of the killer's heartbeat. What if the killer finds me first? What if no one comes for me once I'm on that rusty hook? It's happened before. People have left her. Why doesn't she leave them for once? Let them hang.
She takes in a breath, hand steadying with her decision she begins to move her fingers over the guitar strings, plucking at them delicately as she tries to find a rhythm. Her fingers slip when she hears metal whistling through the air.
The Huntress.
A cruel giant of a woman, slinging hatchets clear across the map. You could be searching for a generator and suddenly there's a hatchet buried in your shoulder. She remembers the way it buries into her flesh, the way she needs to tug to pull it free and throw it to the ground. How quickly the warm blood flows free from the wound and winds down her arm, dripping from her fingernails….
It would be best to not be up high, otherwise a stray hatchet might hit her.
Kate gets down from the rock, slowly making her way to one of the desolate corners and sitting back against a random wood wall, staring at the stone one that encompasses the trial area. She shouldn't be bothered here.
Kate starts again, fingers moving over the chords as if they have a mind of their own. What spills forth from her guitar is a haunting melody, filled with sorrow and helplessness. So unlike the songs she used to play.
A scream travels through the air and Kate winces, forcing her fingers to continue. They were on a hook. She should try and get them. Bill had taught her how to keep the survivor alive if the killer was close when you pulled them off. A little… extra layer of protection. An attempt to get them all out.
A ray of hope that she emulated for a time.
But not now. Right now her thoughts were dark, muddled from her time here. The others may be mad upon realizing she did absolutely nothing to help them, but… what did it matter? It didn't, a voice whispered in the back of her head. None of this mattered. This place was hell. After all the times she had helped them… what good had come of it? What did she really accomplish? Putting off their suffering or her own for just a bit longer. But what was the point? To say you fought back against the inevitable?
Who cares when they'll die again and again? She could pull someone off a hook, give them that extra protection and they still go down. What was the point of her putting off their suffering? When it would only lead to more of the same.
Kate bites her lip when the second scream fills the air. She can see the claws descending down from the sky, collecting the first body. They had left whoever that was to die. Why should she save them when they couldn't be bothered to even try?
She sighs softly, the melody growing louder around her as her fingers strike at the chords. It's not just sorrowful now, but angry. A shiver runs down her spine when she hears the metal whistling at a distance.
The killer. They were chasing the third one. She should grab the one on the hook while they're occupied. Don't draw the eye of the killer. Nea was particularly good at that, hugging the walls, planks of wood, the tower of tires. And that burst of speed when she fell… Kate had her teach her that trick. Combined with her own trick to disappear into the darkness it made a quick getaway possible if she was caught in the killer's line of sight.
How many generators were left? Kate only has to listen past the melody her fingers continue to make, realizing with a sharp intake of breath that there were still four she steeled herself.
No way. There was no possibility of them all getting out. It would be best to leave the second one to bleed. Besides… she told herself she wouldn't get involved this time. Let them be angry, wonder what took her so long, why they didn't see her in the trial. They couldn't know for sure if she had done nothing. Sometimes they accused each other even when everyone put in the effort but were slaughtered. It's fine that she stays here, right? Hidden away with her guitar.
The killer might be annoyed after looking for her, might make her suffer even more for hiding…. But it's not like they wouldn't toy with her anyway. There was always next time. She was simply...
A third scream pierces the air and Kate closes her eyes so at least she won't see death coming. It's a small way to fight back, but it counts, right?
She swallows down the lump in her throat, the taste of guilt on her tongue. If she had done something… maybe they all could've gotten out. It was too late, though.
Kate plucks at her chords, letting her mind be consumed by the melody coming from the instrument. It fills her entire being, blackening her soul but still she plays. There's a thump thump coming closer and she adjusts the strings to echo the sound, letting the heartbeat become a part of her song. She slowly fades it out before starting again. There's a… humming coming from the other side of the wall, sounding oddly in tune with her own song.
Leaves crunch beneath a pair of boots, twigs snap and Kate licks her lips, slowly parting them to begin singing softly, trying to ignore her impending demise. She just wants to pretend everything is fine. Like she's back home, but her tongue betrays her.
"Under the moonlight the water runs still,
"The moon hangs low in the sky,
"Crimson red,
"The water turns to blood and flows like wine,
"To the unseen God in the sky.
"Are you satisfied?
"'Never' you whisper to the thousands dead.
"'More' you call as you drag a thousand more,
"To satiate a never ending appetite."
The footfalls had stopped a while ago, the killer had let her finish. And slowly - ever so slowly - Kate opens her eyes, expecting to see the Huntress towering over her, hatchet raised, but….she's met with golden eyes, strands of violet hair glowing in the moon's light. The soft glow it made was in complete contradiction with the sharp lines of the face looking down at her. The splatters of blood on his skin, all that was left of her companions.
"You're… new."
Well, that explained why everyone died so quickly. They didn't know how to combat the new killer. It would be a couple trials before they were able to give a proper show to the entity, and actually struggle to survive. Instead of just getting slaughtered.
"You stopped playing."
Kate blinks, glancing to her guitar to realize her fingers had stilled, no longer compelled to keep playing. "O-oh. Sorry. Were you listening?"
"Hard not to when the air here is dead."
"Ah…" So everyone else had heard her playing as well, then. She was going to get an earful when she went back to the campfire. Well, there was nothing she could do about it now. Kate raises her gaze back up to him.
The bright yellow of his jacket sticks out against the dark stone behind him, as does the purple striped pants. He was flashy. Almost as much as Nea when she was feeling rebellious, throwing the entity a middle finger as she made clowns of the killers. Kate's attire was darker, meant to blend in with the background. Don't draw the eye of the killer.
But she had.
"Did you… want to hear more?" Maybe she could put off her death for a bit longer if he liked her songs.
"You already finished."
That was a no. Kate slowly lowers the guitar from her lap, placing it against the wall.
There's a brief flash in the air and Kate jumps, pressing her back against the wall, eyes wide, expecting something to hit her- Thunk. She glances to her guitar, to see a knife embedded in it. Once struck it fades into another shadow along the wall, dancing at the edge of her vision. She turns slowly to look up at the man.
If it weren't for the curve of his lips, the blood staining his chest she would think he was a survivor. Had the others mistaken him as such? Is that why they fell so quickly? He doesn't meet her questioning gaze, just stares at the place her guitar had been.
"How did you do that?"
"Do what?"
"Make the instrument appear. The others carried a toolbox, med kit, some old map, but no guitar."
Oh. "This place is… created from a memory. I just recalled my old guitar and it appeared. The shadows can make anything if you put in the effort, it just takes time to make sure it stays rather than disappears. You can even create clothes from the shadows."
"Hmph." The man seems to regard her, twirling a knife in his hand. "How long usually?"
"A… couple dozen trials. Time doesn't exist properly here." And she's not sure she would want to be able to count the number of days she had been here. It would probably just make her sink deeper into the dark corners of her mind.
"Hmm."
The man continues to stare down at her and she feels her skin begin to crawl as his gaze sweeps over her again and again. Like he's deciding which artery to cut first with her sitting so very still for him.
But if she tries to run there's only a very slim chance that the hatch is nearby for her to disappear before he catches her. It's not a very high chance. She would rather gamble with her current position, on how much longer she has to live.
"What's your name?" It's a silly question to ask, but it's all she's got. Plus, she is curious about him, being a new killer and it's not like she usually gets the opportunity to ask such questions.
The man's gaze travels from her exposed thigh tattoo and to her own eyes. "Ji-Woon Hak. Have you ever heard of NO SPIN?"
It takes her a moment to think. "No, but your name is familiar."
"What about The Trickster?" He twirls his bat as he speaks, letting it come to rest on the back of his shoulders, flashing a feral smile down at her.
She draws in a sharp breath. "Yes. You… you're a singer. Or were, in South Korea, correct?" He gives a short nod of his head, eyes burning holes into hers. "I… visited once. My name is Kate Denson."
She slowly raises a hand to offer him, for a handshake of all things. He stares down at it, twirling his bat back into the palm of his hand he lowers the glittering steel edge to her hand. Kate holds her breath as he slowly presses it to her open palm, noting the sharp sting as the metal bites into her flesh. He pulls the bat back suddenly, making her gasp aloud from the pain. It's like a papercut, but deeper, at least half an inch thick and there's already blood collecting in the palm of her hand.
Kate turns her hand so her palm is facing up, cradling it to her chest and away from the blade in his bat. His lips curve up in delight, eyes focused on the blood pooling in her hand.
"Kate Denson, hm? Can't say I've heard of you." Somehow his words sting even more than his bat had.
"I mostly do country songs."
"Ah, that would be why. I specialize in pop music." She got the feeling he was talking down to her.
"I do dabble in other genres sometimes," Kate murmurs, biting into her lip shortly after. Why did her words sound like she was trying to impress him? He was the killer, even if they used to be in the same field of employment… What did she expect from him? To let her go because of their shared interests?
"Your song earlier was like a dark lullaby. I thought country music was supposed to be happy?"
"Usually. I haven't been feeling particularly upbeat lately."
"Why would that be?" His lips curve into a cruel smile and she presses her back more firmly against the wood behind her.
Kate swallows nervously. "Being in a death loop will do that to you."
"So if I kill you now I can still see you again? I can kill you again?" His eyes positively glow and she can practically see all the possibilities flashing through his head.
"Yes… Is this your first trial?"
"Is that what you call it?" She nods her head, staring at him. "Interesting. So, now that you let your friends die, what are you going to do?"
"Do? I… assumed you were going to kill me. Are you not?" She holds her breath upon answering the question, not knowing what to expect from asking something so stupid. He had killed everyone else rather quickly, hadn't he? What reason did he have not to kill her? He obviously enjoyed killing, hurting others… What was she expecting?
"Tell me what options someone like you has."
Kate blinks. Was he… fishing for information? On how the trials worked? There wasn't any real reason for her to withhold the information. He would find out eventually anyway. And maybe - just maybe - she could get out of here without dying. "At this point… there's too many generators left for me to do on my own. I would need to find the hatch."
"What hatch?"
"It appears closed in the trials once a certain number of generators are done or once one survivor is left standing. Once that happens it opens up. If I get to it first I can jump through and leave. If you find it first…. You can close it and then I have to get out through one of two doors before the entity gets bored and kills me themselves." She's not surprised when he doesn't ask about the entity, all the killers know of it. But his next words do surprise her.
"Are you a survivor?" She stares at him, uncertainty flashing across her face as she wonders why he's asking. After an extended minute as he waits for her to answer she gives a tentative nod. "Give me your hand." He reaches down with his own hand rather than the bat and Kate slowly raises her injured hand to him.
Ji-Woon reaches past her fingers to enclose his own around her wrist, leaning down he runs his tongue from the bottom of the cut he had made earlier to the top. Kate shivers from the contact, cheeks feeling oddly warm but she doesn't allow herself to think about it.
He glances down to her, still grasping her wrist he licks his lips, smiling. "Your fear tastes sweet. I'll let it simmer a while longer before I devour you."
Her heart nearly jumps up into her throat. He was letting her go? His fingers fall from her wrist so… it must be true.
Kate hurriedly pushes herself to her feet, still staring at him as she edges along the wall, expecting him to be joking. To stab her any second with one of those knives, hit her head with the metal poking out of the bat. Over and over again until her head has been split open like a watermelon.
"I… Thank you," she murmurs.
He flashes her a brilliant smile. "No worries, darling. Go find your hatch. I'll see you later." The promise simultaneously makes her blood run cold and her cheeks burn. She's not sure if she wants to come across him in another trial or not.
Kate waits until she is behind the wall, clear of his gaze then turns and starts running, keeping a careful ear listening for the telltale whispers around the hatch, watching for the moving shadows.
She was getting out of this trial alive.
