"It's working!" Jake shouted excitedly as he held his hands down over Mara's wrists. She wasn't fighting much anymore, but he didn't consider for a second that there wasn't any fight left.
David nodded at her feet as Meg crouched above the killer laid on the ground before her. Her hands shook with fear as she drew invisible symbols upon the skin of Mara's stomach that came to her instinctively. She never considered herself a spiritual person but within tense situations such as this one, she was able to call forth that intuition and put it to use. And so, her hands worked without thought as Meg closed her eyes with focus and she attempted to draw out that evil which now lay awake within Mara.
Then, every survivor stopped for a moment, eyes flying wide as an omnipresent voice broke out into their minds.
Get your hands off her.
They looked at each other with looks full of questions and nervousness.
David was the first to speak up. "Did you guys hear that?"
Jake and Meg nodded their heads in unison before exchanging concerned looks and continuing their work.
Within moments Mara's eyes continued to waft blearily this way and that. Subconsciously she could feel the evil slowly snaking its way up to the forefront of her body. It was an intense feeling, like a snake making its way up through her insides. Then the snake started moving faster, excitedly. No longer attempting to hide itself within the crevices of her body, it drew itself up within her and danced, bringing itself to life once again. Mara's body rose off the ground slightly as she was being physically affected by the evil moving about within her.
"What the hell is going on?" Meg questioned, her voice shaking.
The only answer was a sudden boom that ripped through the air, reminiscent of a jet plane flashing by at immense speeds overhead. Meg screamed aloud and all three survivors jumped, startled while Mara remained in a daze upon the ground. "What the fuck?!" Meg yelled. The ground seemed to shake beneath them for a moment.
"Uhhhh, uhhhhhh," Mara cooed unconsciously beneath them.
"I can't tell if this is working," Jake cried above her, his eyes falling pleadingly to David. But David didn't know what was going on either.
Until he saw the presence that loomed within the shadows, not too far away.
He froze for a moment, that fear picking itself up in the back of his mind again. His mouth fell open and was caught in a short trance. The woman below him began writhing on the ground, nearly knocking him off of her. Having noticed David's staring, Jake and Meg glanced back behind them.
There he was. Watching them as they desecrated his beautiful creation. Their putrid fingers clasping at her porcelain skin. He hated that. They shouldn't be touching her. Shouldn't be forcing her to the ground. But there they were, attempting to change that which he had worked so hard on. That which he had discovered a love for, deep within his tainted heart. That which he was not willing to lose.
He'd slaughter every single one of them multiple times before they ever succeeded in changing her.
He stepped forward, his calm appearance exuding nothing but confidence and intimidation.
Meg was the first to run. She sprinted off and didn't look back. Then went Jake. Then David. This fight was no longer Mara's as she laid on the ground helplessly stuck in a trance, enveloped in a battle of good and evil. She laid there the entire time, unaware of the screams that erupted around her. Blood curdling screams of pain and desperation. One by one, her friends thrown to hooks to be sacrificed to the Entity by the hands of her domineering lover.
Every survivor suffered that day at the enraged hands of Michael Myers.
Finally he returned, coated with heaps of her late teammates' blood. Through his bloody mask he looked down at the girl who still laid on the ground, some form of worry taking the place of the exhilaration of chasing his prey.
He stooped down next to her, his forefinger brushing lightly across her jawline. Her eyes were halfway open, flickering back and forth between that unnatural red and beautiful blue. He hated what he was seeing, her soul floundering deep within herself in an attempt to set itself straight. He needed to take her back now or she could be lost to this eternal fight forever.
He scooped her up from the ground, holding her in his arms bridal style and her head fell to rest comfortably on his chest. Once again, purity was clasped within the arms of evil.
*****
Mara's brain wafted about tiredly, moving about in her head like water in a bottle being sloshed around. It made her dizzy and the first thing she was conscious of was leaning over to vomit absolutely nothing from her insides. She gagged and dry heaved for a moment before laying back down, a hand rising to her forehead and her eyes coming gently open.
Her vision was met with the dark depths of the Entity's realm. Her head pounded and her body felt weak. She groaned quietly and sat up, blinking the sleep from her eyes.
"She's awake," a voice came from somewhere within the room. Mara immediately recognized it to be the Entity and turned around to see the creature and Michael a few feet away.
Mara's mind was still fuzzy from whatever had just occurred. All she could remember was being with Michael, seeking comfort from him, and a rage that had suddenly burst within her. After that, nothing.
"Mara," the Entity called, demanding her attention. She looked over to it with a look of distrust.
"What do you want?" she responded coldly.
"Your second trial," it sneered. "Failed. Again." Its ugly, monstrous eyes shot over to Michael for a moment. "And for some reason, he seems to think you belong here. ...Shame."
The Entity's eyes fell upon Mara once again and she shook visibly. She could tell the Entity did not like her a single bit.
"I don't give second chances and I don't give third chances either," the monster continued. "So we'll just call this… a deal, shall we? Sacrifice the next four survivors or you will be disposed of."
Mara's breath caught in her throat. The Entity was being completely serious. "Entity!" she protested. "I didn't even know what was going on!"
The Entity cackled a laugh void of humor. "You must not be a killer then."
Before she could say anything else, Michael stepped forward, his hands finding her shoulders in an attempt to usher her out of the room. She attempted to step around him and continue speaking to the Entity, but when she glanced over his side, the creature was gone. She looked up at Michael now who was still ushering her from the room. He grasped her shoulders more roughly and forcefully turned her away from him, his hand at the middle of her back to guide her.
They moved in silence through this dreary area the killers lived in. Mara's skin crawled when they brushed past the Nurse, who sat creepily in a corner doing nothing but watching. She bristled when she spotted the Legion's crew and slowed down in fear, almost desperately turning to run away; in response, Michael's arm wrapped around her shoulder, pulling her into him, and they continued forward. Mara's face was bent away from them but Michael could see Frank and Joe bowing their heads away as well, although not from Mara, but from him.
Finally Michael guided her into a small, dark room that looked somewhat like an old-fashioned living room. Two creaky wooden chairs sat atop a dirty round carpet with a small tea table that had a little candle lit upon it. Michael continued to usher Mara through the room, settling her down in one of the old chairs before taking a seat himself, facing her.
Well this is a bit odd, she thought to herself.
She could tell by Michael's demeanor that he needed to tell her something. From what she had always known about Michael Myers, he had supposedly never spoken a word. And yet somehow he had a way to communicate with her, to infiltrate the boundaries of her mind and insert himself there. It was disturbing and creepy but also tantalizing to her; just another example as to how they were so intricately connected.
And so she waited, her interest piqued by Michael's body language that she had never been able to examine before, because he never did much besides stay quiet, stare, or physically force anyone to do his bidding. She smirked slightly seeing a little bit of human bleeding through that monstrous exterior as he was bent forward with his elbows on his knees, hands clasped together as his mind worked to form the words he needed to say.
We have to kill the Entity.
That smooth, deep voice that she loved so much. If it had touched her ears, she'd have closed her eyes and prayed that he keep talking. But it emanated from within her, reverberating within her body and her soul, tickling her fancy so much the words he spoke took a moment to register within her.
Snap! She startled and opened her eyes, her heart flopping when she saw Myers was staring directly at her. Every ounce of his being permeated her so. It was scary.
Pay attention.
She nodded obediently, finally realizing the seriousness of his words. She glanced over her shoulder and lowered her voice to a whisper. "Kill the Entity?"
Michael's head nodded forward once ever so slightly.
She stared at him for a moment, dumbfounded. "But that's… not possible?"
It might be.
Mara sat back for a moment, her brow furrowing in thought. Michael told her everything he knew about the Entity; how it had made a deal with some creature even bigger than itself which brought about this realm that they resided in. How this creature was able to reach down into different realms and realities, pulling out the evillest of creatures and dumping them in this pathetic world. That each and every killer Mara had interacted with was a victim of kidnapping, now bound by shackles they couldn't see and couldn't understand. And if you can't find where the problem lies, how are you going to fix the problem?
"That's it!" Mara jumped up suddenly. She bounced up and down in excitement for a moment and Michael stood up with her. She ran to him, grasping his arms and looking gleefully up at his face. "Michael, I figured it out! It has to do with the fact that you can come into my trials with me if I'm failing. Isn't this because the Entity basically assigned you as my caretaker, or is it because of our bond with each other?"
That is due to my connection to you. That hook that resided within them both. And it was due to his own personal power that he was able to sense that she was in trouble. It was also due to his personal strength and power that he was able to rip through these realities that existed within the Dead by Daylight realm, granting him the ability to tear into any trial currently taking place. But he never had a reason to travel to these worlds unless she was in them.
"Okay, remember what you said about the Entity secretly being a weak, but lucky creature. And that it's only a powerful being so long as it resides within this realm we're in now." Her eyes were wide and gleaming with excitement. She knew Michael would be pleased if her idea turned out to be plausible. "So what if instead of you coming to save me... what if the Entity had to save the day?"
Michael looked at her for a moment, the pieces of her statement coming together slowly in his brain. The hows, the whens, the what ifs. Then his hand came forward and ruffled itself in her hair. She yelped in surprise as a ticklish feeling of joy rang through her at his unusual display of contentment; she could see that he was happy with her ideas.
He came forward and she grinned. She threw her arms around his shoulders and allowed him to pick her up, wrapping her in a tight embrace, actually twirling her through the air before settling back down into the creaky chair, its wooden legs groaning beneath the weight of the two of them.
***
Quiet sobs echoed deep into a lonely part of the forest. Meg sat on the ground, back pressed against a tree, her head rested against her knees that were pulled up to her chest. Tears streamed down her cheeks, falling off her chin and seeping into her clothing. She trembled and shook in anguish. Her arms wrapped even tighter around her legs as she cried an ugly, defeated cry.
She didn't stop when she heard footsteps crunching up next to her. She couldn't care anymore. That tough exterior she always held onto had finally come crumbling down, and it didn't matter to her anymore whether someone saw her cry.
She continued sobbing as whoever had come up settled down beside her. The person's leg pressed lightly against her own and an arm came down around her shoulders, pulling her close and forcing her to lose her balance. Her hand came down on the person's leg to steady herself.
She looked up into David's face which was contorted into an expression of worry and sorrow. All three of them had felt this way since that last match, although David was doing the best at holding himself together. Even Jake himself had already experienced this same fit of tearful anguish, although he'd hidden much farther away from the others. Far enough that they couldn't hear his screams of pure rage and defeat. Curses and yells that were meant just for Michael. Each and every one of them had been scarred. No person liked the feeling of a complete lack of control. To be abused and taken advantage of. To be physically tortured and played with. That's exactly how Michael had made all of them feel. Like helpless rats scurrying around a cage, desperate for an escape or a swift death, neither of which they were granted. To Michael, they were merely toys to be played with and disposed of when he was done. He made sure they all realized that as a deep, personal rage had been reawakened within him at the sight of what they had done to Mara, and he punished them accordingly.
For the three of them, this feeling was everything. All the other survivors could sense that something was wrong; something unusually bad had happened. The survivor realm was now cloaked with the same atmosphere that plagues hospital rooms, graveyards, and crime scenes: that innate and primal understanding that something tragic and disturbing had occurred afflicted every single one of them. Even the Entity didn't have this power over the survivors; they regarded the Entity with the same mindset of the killers: they would obey it, but not respect it.
But Michael? He would get the respect he demanded. Every time.
David held Meg close to him, his arm still tightly wrapped around her shoulder. Her face was buried within his neck and he could feel his clothing becoming wet with her tears. He changed his position now, his other arm drawing up beneath her knees and pulling her easily into his lap as she continued to sob. From the outside, it might have seemed as if this was some sort of a romantic affair, but it was not; just one person providing comfort to another who really, really needed it.