The room was dark and seemingly endless. Evan floated there with blood dripping down his arms and patches that were splattered down his overalls. The fierce iron smell slapped him in the face and he almost gagged on the overpowering nature of it. He didn't bother looking around and kept his eyes low, watching his boots sway with a wind that wasn't there. He had been here countless times. At the end of the round of trials, he was taken here to be assessed on his performance. He had gotten three sacrifices during his previous trial, so it was really up to how The Entity was feeling today, assuming that it could feel. It was not very smart to let Meg escape every trial, but he chose to bare her pain. He liked to imagine that she knew about it and appreciated it.
Fog swirled around him, mixing with the scent of blood and creating a toxic blend that overwhelmed his senses. He coughed and choked on it and grabbed at his throat, trying to call for it to stop but his voice was taken from him. He let out a low growl in the back of his throat as his mask was ripped off, revealing his dirt covered and scarred face. He furrowed his eyebrows and snapped his head around, unable to call, out he had no choice but to wait for The Entity to stop toying with him. As soon as it came the fog was gone and his throat was cleared. He took a desperate gasp for air that felt like razers in his lungs as he panted, trying to recover his composure. The Entity was reminding him of it's power over him, reminding him he was completely at the being's mercy, which wasn't complicated and Evan understood why he did it, but that didn't mean that it got any easier every time.
There was a growl all around him that was almost like a purr as it faded into his mind.
Trapper~ My favorite pet, you've been busy haven't you?
Still unable to speak, he just scowled and looked away, uneasiness seeping into his thoughts.
In quite a few trials that i've gifted to you, you have barely managed to sacrifice every survivor. Out of twenty trials, you have pleased me with your performance only eleven. Why do you think that this is, Trapper? There must be some kind of pattern, yes?
He tried his best to stay still and keep his head up, still not regretting his decision even with a god who could shred his soul with a thought staring him down.
Do you think that I do not know? You of all of my pets that I share information with know that I feed off of the emotions you humans secrete. As of late, you have been feeling an interesting flavor, one that interests me very much.
That caught his attention. He looked around as The Entity's sharp tendrils clicked and moved around him, fading in from the fog. One moved in front of his face and seemed to view him with interest. It was inches from his face but he held his ground and didn't flinch or move away from it's disgusting touch.
I sense potential in his emotion. It's as you humans like to view the animals that walk in the waking world. You get much from a simple animal, but you cut it up and give it your own touch, and you have a delicious meal shared by millions around the earth. You are... much like a cow.
A... cow? Well, he'd been called worse things by the being.
The tendril moved forward and closed the gap between them, running it's sharp end along Evan's cheek, splitting flesh as it moved. Evan grunted in discomfort and turned away.
What will you be, Trapper? A simple hamburger, or a juicy steak? I suppose we will just have to see. But for now, for the best results, you must be marinated.
The tendrils began moving away from him, releasing their hold on him as they retracted. He watched them go with a suspicious look in his eyes. Was it talking about his love for Meg? How had The Entity detected it? He thought he was better at hiding it, but maybe it was a fools game to try and hide anything from a god.
You do not deserve to be rewarded, but I am a forgiving God. I will show you mercy just this once, but you must never let me down again, Trapper.
All Evan could do was nod before he started falling... then suddenly he was somewhere else. His feet hit the wooden floor with a thud as he stood straight, taking in his surroundings. He was in his father's old manner, but this version had been taken care of it seemed. The usual cobwebs and layers of dust that had called the uncovered furniture and the shelves home for many years were nowhere to be seen. Even didn't know what to expect, but this was a very familiar sight.
The Entity had a very good reward-punishment system in place for it's victims. He wasn't sure how survivors were dealt with, but for killers it was very simple. If you do well in trials, The Entity shows you and lets you live in the life you want the most with the people that you love the most. It's heaven on earth for every killer who does well for a period of time. It had been the perfect motivation for him in the beginning, and he was sure it was for all the other killers, but for him it had lost a bit of its touch some time ago. He supposed it was around the time he met Meg, but it didn't really matter anyway, did it?
Evan looked down at himself and realized very quickly that he was significantly smaller than he was used to being. He raised his arms and examined his tiny hands that were covered in dirt and mud. He had to be around ten or eleven years old at least.
"Evan! Are you finished playing outside?" a voice called from a different room in the house.
Evan's head snapped up a bit at the familiarity of the voice, but he wasn't sure where he'd heard it from before. He followed the source of the sound hesitantly as he stepped through a set of double doors that lead into the dining room. At the end of the long wooden table that took up most of the space in the room was the entrance to the kitchen. Light was pouring out into the dark room and following close behind was the scent of freshly bakes bread that made his mouth water and slowly melt the caution away. A long forgotten child-like part of him tore it's way to the surface as he picked up the pace and began dashing towards the kitchen with a grin on his face. He couldn't hear his bare feet slapping the floor as he scrambled, pure innocent joy radiating from him as fiercely as the delicious smell drew him towards the kitchen and the person inside.
When he skidded into the kitchen he grabbed onto the counter to steady himself, seemingly endless energy pouring from him as his eyes gazed around the room in wonder until they landed on the woman slicing bread a few feet away.
It was like a lone photograph come to life as Evan's long dead mother turned to look at him with a genuine smile on her face; the kind of smile only a mother can give her child. She had long, wavy brown hair that cascaded over her shoulders and bounced with her movements. She wore a casual, yet sophisticated tan dress that reached her ankles. The hem around the waist of the dress was stitched with white swirling patterns that was clearly the work of someone with very skilled hands, signifying her wealth. She had creamy brown eyes that glistened like a glass of whiskey with sunlight filtering through it, just like his own.
Child-Evan couldn't know, but the present version of himself in the back of his mind seemed to remember his father telling him she'd died during labor, yet here she stood, baking bread in the kitchen.
"You almost ready for dinner, dear? Why don't you go and pry your father from his work and we can sit together and eat as a family tonight? Does that sound good?" She asked, placing the freshly sliced bread onto a silver platter then cleaning her hands with a rag.
He gave her a big toothy grin and nodded enthusiastically, turning tail and letting his legs carry him towards his father's office like they'd done it hundreds of times. He moved through the corridor that had countless doors on either side of him that seemed to go forever until he reached the end where masterfully carved wooden doors stood tall. He knocked on the huge door and took a few steps back, waiting politely for his father to answer the door, assuming he would, that is.
To his surprise, he heard footsteps on the other side of the door before it swung open, revealing the looming figure of Archer Macmillan. He was a very broad shouldered, clean shaven man with his trimmed brown hair combed neatly on his head. He wore an extremely expensive custom black three piece suit with a matching tie that sat perfectly straight on his collar bone. If his mother's dress whispered wealth, Archer's flawless suit screamed it. He had thick brown eyebrows that were usually furrowed on his forehead in annoyance but for once they were raised along with the sides of his lips at the sight of his little boy wanting his attention.
"If it isn't my very own son!" He exclaimed, kneeling down to meet Evan at eye level, "What could it be this time? Did my old lady send you as her little messenger boy?"
Evan grinned and twirled his fingers around each other, glancing down at the floor in pretend embarrassment, "Maybe just this once... She says it's time for dinner!"
He nodded and lowered his gaze in thought, "Well, in that case," Before Even had time to react his father scooped him up in his arms and held him in the air. Evan yelped in delight and giggled as his father carried him towards the dining room, "I'll give that woman the proper response she deserves! A personal response from her two favorite men!"
Evan absolutely beamed in delight at being called a man, validation radiating through his entire body. He wasn't a little boy anymore, he was a man! A self-sufficient full grown man! He closed his eyes and let his father carry him, enjoying the sensation of being held. He had never felt this loved before. For the first time in so many years, he felt like he truly belonged somewhere. This was his family. This was his home.
They entered the dining room then and instantly the smell of the freshly prepared food hit his senses again and his mouth watered in anticipation of the meal he was about to have. His mother was a wonderful cook after all!
His father set him down on the floor and continued towards the kitchen ahead, "Let's see if your mother is finished with everything, im sure she could use some help if not." He nodded and followed close behind, the light flooding his vision for a moment before his focus returned. His mother was getting together the last bits of silverware by the counter as she turned to greet them.
"Just in time! I'm almost finished!" She smiled before turning her attention to Evan, "I invited your little friend to eat dinner with us! I know you like her so much so it's only proper she gets to enjoy a meal with your family!"
It wasn't until just then that he noticed his mother wasn't alone in the kitchen. Next to her was someone his age wiping silverware with a cloth, making sure it was so clean it sparkled. He had no idea who she was until she turned around with a big smile on her face, her braided pig-tails following close behind.
It was Meg.
She gave him a genuine smile before running over to him, cloth still in hand and wrapped her little arms around him, planting a messy kiss in his cheek, "Evan! Your momma is so nice, she said she'd let me help set the table! Do you wanna help too?"
Evan stood there in stunned silence. He had no idea how to react. He blinked once and suddenly he wasn't a child anymore. He looked down at his bloody hands and dirty overalls in confusion. His eyes moved back up to see Meg as he knew her in trials. She was covered in dirt and grime but that same genuine smile remained on her face. His mother and father both came to him as he stood there staring at Meg and they wrapped their arms around him, whispering into his ears.
"We love you, Evan."
Meg walked to him then too, placing her forehead against his, closing her eyes and touching his arm like she'd done this a thousand times before.
"I love you, Evan."
With the warmth of the people he loved all around him and everything he had ever wanted in his life right before him, all he could bare to do was to turn away from all of them with tears streaming down his face.