Dead by Daylight – Expanded Universe
Chapter 2: Om Nom Nom
by Jonathan "KnightMysterio" Spires
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Amity Island…?
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Sam Quint, clad in black pants, blue work shirt, green jacket, gloves, and a dark blue headband, awoke with a start, clutching at himself. He looked down at his body, looking at his shirt… and saw no new scars. "That can't be right…" he said. The last thing he remembered was the pain, was falling into the jaws of the shark, before fog overcame him. He looked around, and saw that he was in his house on the port, but it looked wrong. Little details looked off, everything looking vaguely unreal.
Oh, and the fact that his home was halfway flooded wasn't helping at all.
"What in blazes…" Quint said, squinting at everything, wondering what was going on. A crash of thunder startled him, and he looked outside. He was stunned to see that most of the island was flooded, up to the waist in several places, hurricane winds blowing and almost knocking him off his feet. In addition, there were strange open clamps lining various flooded areas. The water was so deep in places, a shark could swim in them. There were pathways of wooden platforms, and strange gates that looked like they could be dropped into the water and electrified. And on top of everything else, generators of some kind were set up at various points.
Shark, he thought absently. Whatever was happening to this strange place, he could still remember dying. It didn't make sense.
"Welp, best thing to do in a situation where you don't know what's going on is investigate…" Quint said, grabbing a bandanna, pocketing his hat, and dropping down into the water. He staggered a little when he went outside, blown back by the powerful winds and rains. He immediately went for one of the generators, something telling him that they held the key to things. He silently, sadly patted the Orca, still in its dock, and went over to the generator. He knelt down beside the generator… and frowned.
The device looked as if someone had only the vague idea of what a generator was supposed to be, the inside a random collection of gears and wires and pistons. He didn't even know if the thing was supposed to work. "How the blazes…"
At which point a nerdy young man in glasses, a white dress shirt and black slacks, and a tie that was blowing everywhere in the wind and rain slammed up against the generator. "Owwww…" he muttered.
"Dwight! You okay?" came another set of voices. Quint, startled, looked up, and frowned, his nose wrinkling in irritation. A red-haired woman with pigtails in a reddish top with jeans cut up to the knees and an Asian woman (Chinese, he guessed) in a red dress and blessedly flat-heeled elegant shoes ran up to him.
"Yeah," the nerdy young man said. "Found a generator." He and his comrades chuckled weakly. They saw Quint standing there, a confused look on her face.
"I don't suppose any of you lot know what's going on, eh?" he asked.
"Ah… shit. New person, probably new killer," the redhead said. "I'm Meg Thomas, this is Ada Wong, and this is Dwight Fairfield."
"Hi," he said. "Lovely weather we're having."
Quint shook his head. "If you don't have your sea legs, you shouldn't be out in a goddamn hurricane," he said. "I'm out because… Gah, nevermind, you'll think its stupid."
"You died, didn't you?" Ada said, her voice matter-of-fact. "Maybe saw a Fog as you died?"
Quint turned, narrowing his eyes. "Aye. How'd you know that?" he asked.
Meg smiled sadly, sitting down to work on the generator. "You're not the first person to come to this realm that's died," she said.
Quint blinked. "Realm!? Talk sense, woman! This is Amity Island! My home!" he snapped.
Ada rolled her eyes, joining Meg and Dwight in working on the generator. "Short version? It only looks like Amity Island, you're trapped in the realm of some spider Entity out of Lovecraft's worst nightmares (that don't involve black people) in a really fucking nasty fusion of hide and seek and tag, and we need to fix these things to power up a door before a big nasty fellow that can't be hurt because the Entity is protecting them comes and puts us on meathooks as a sacrifice." Ada looked around quickly. "There's… there's usually meathooks, anyway. I don't know what these clamp things in the water are."
Quint stared at them. The three of them were vigorously working on the generator, as if they'd done it many times before. "...I'd say you were all insane but I still distinctly remember dying," he muttered. "Dark Entity… And the hunter's invincible? God, if the damn shark couldn't be hurt… That's so many of my nightmares come to life…"
Meg, Ada, and Dwight froze. Dwight slowly turned to Quint, looking like he was about to throw up. "I'm… sorry… did you say shark?" he asked.
"Aye," Quint said. "I'm a sharker. Hunt sharks for a living. If things were calmer I'd show you my collection of shark jaws." He grinned. "Maybe give the ladies a reason to be impressed."
Meg snorted, while Ada rolled her eyes again, scoffing. Dwight still looked ill. "No… No way. The Entity wouldn't do that. She'd only be able to use it here!"
"Unless she flooded some of the more open realms…" Meg said softly.
"No. NO. There's no shark! We are not dealing with a shark killer!" Dwight said, noticing Ada, Quint, and Meg suddenly staring at the water nearby. "...There's a shark, isn't there?"
Quint grinned wildly. "Farewell and adieu to you fair Spanish ladies," he sang. "Farewell and adieu to you ladies of Spain…"
Dwight sighed, slumping against the generator. "Of course there's a shark now…" he said. He turned, and saw the very distinctive fin heading towards them through the water. "SCATTER!" The four of them broke away from the generator.
A massive great white shark lunged out of the water, grabbing Ada in its jaws. The Chinese woman shrieked in agony as it dove over the sodden pathway, diving back into the water. She punched desperately at the creature, the feel of its teeth sending rivers of agony through her every time it chewed on her. And being barely able to breathe as the water sloshed over her wasn't helping either. She looked into the eyes of the creature, and saw its dead, doll-like eyes staring back at her as it held it in its jaws. And she knew this thing was a monster. She HATED fighting monsters. The human killers, there was always something in their eyes. Regret, anger, glee, something that showed they were human underneath. But the monsters were the worst. Because they had nothing in their eyes. No clues for her to read or take advantage of. And for a woman used to manipulation, that was frightening.
No, there was nothing in those eyes. Nothing save the Hunger.
She looked over to where the beast was taking her, realizing it was heading for one of those strange clamps. The clamps! The clamps replace the hooks in trials with the shark! she thought. It was all she had time to think before the shark slammed her shoulder into one of the clamps, triggering some kind of mechanism that made it slam shut on her shoulder. Ada howled in agony, which somehow became worse when the shark let her go, blood pouring out of the teethmarks as it left her treading water, the shifting waves moving her painfully up and down on the clamp. And to her dismay, the spidery legs were starting to form as they did on the meathook.
Back at the generator, Quint was left frozen. The normally fearless man could only stare as the shark dove back underwater, leaving Ada behind. "It's him… It's the same damn shark… twenty-five feet, three tons… It even has a scar from where I stabbed it…" he said softly.
"Quint," Dwight said. "Quint, we have to move." He turned to Meg. "Can you get her out of the clamp?"
"I can try," Meg said, running down the wooden path.
Dwight nodded. "Quint. Quint, damn it," he said, slapping the older man, startling him. Quint stared at him, shocked that this city boy had the raw nerve to hit him. "We can't just stand around. That shark is hunting us."
Quint looked over to where Meg was tugging the clamp holding Ada open. "R-Right," he said. He hated to admit it, but he couldn't the captain in this. "What do we need to do?"
"Get these generators repaired and powered up so we can open the exit door," Dwight said. "And avoid getting sacrificed on one of the hooks. Or, clamps in this case. Three times is fatal, and so is being left on them long enough. It is… not fun what they put you through before you come back to life."
"...Back to life?!" Quint said, looking at Dwight like he was a madman.
"Death isn't an escape here," Dwight said grimly, shaking his head. "As for an actual escape… Eh… we're still working on it." He sat down before the generator. "C'mon."
Quint, frowning, mulling this over as he sat down to start working on the generator. Surprisingly, fixing it was rather intuitive. He just had to twist wires together, slide gears into place, simple things. The more he worked, the more the pistons on the generator started up. He glanced out, checking for the shark, who was chasing the girls around…
"GAH!" Dwight shouted as the generator sparked. "Eight damn years, you think I'd be used to this by now!" Both he and Quint looked over to the shark, seeing it turn away from them. "Fuck. Run. Screwing up a generator lets the killers know where we are for a few seconds!" he said.
Quint knew enough to obey the one who seemed like he knew what he was doing. He and Dwight bolted in separate directions, the shark choosing to go after Dwight, jumping over the path twice and nearly missing him each time.
Quint shivered. He'd died to this brute, and now it was fucking invincible, apparently. ...He wondered, briefly, if this was Hell, and he was being punished for delivering the bomb that destroyed Hiroshima. All those lives…
He caught up with the Chinawoman, Ada, as she was fixing up one of the generators. He joined her. "You're surprisingly spry for someone who got chomped by a shark," Quint said.
"Healing magic," Ada said, grinning at the frustrated look on Quint's face. "Oh, there's all sorts of nonsensical bullshit going on here. Welcome to Weirdworld, Mr. Quint."
"Weird," Quint muttered. "Sounds about right. Not enough fire and screaming for Hell… I know what I've done that probably get me there. Not sure about you, though."
"Oh, I probably deserve it more than you," Ada said, amused. "Ask me if Ada Wong is my real name."
Quint got the implication immediately. He scowled, but as she was in the same situation as him, he put aside his disgust for the moment. "A spy," he said. "For who's side?"
"Let's just say my loyalties before coming here were on a paycheck basis," Ada said, Quint scowling even deeper. "As for my loyalties now? To you, to Meg and Dwight, to every other survivor." She blushed, and added, "Aaaand maybe especially to a cute naive policeman back at the camp."
"That's something at least," Quint said, smiling as the generator turned on. His smile died quickly as he heard Meg shrieking in agony, turning to see the redhead in the shark's mouth, the brute dragging her through the water towards a clamp, Dwight running along the paths to catch up with her. Quint got up to follow him, but Ada grabbed his arm. "Let GO!"
"No. We keep finding generators and fixing them," she said.
"You just said your loyal-" Quint started.
"The faster we fix generators the faster we can get out of here!" Ada said, having to shout to be heard over a sudden gust of wind, rain lashing their bodies. "Dwight will save her! She and Dwight have been getting hooked and unhooked longer than both of us together! C'mon!"
"I can't just…" Quint stammered, his face stricken. "I… I can't… God, its the Indianapolis all over again…"
Ada's eyes widened. She'd read about that disaster. Hundreds of men in the water, getting taken over and over again by swarming sharks. If he was there… God, if he there, then this must be a worst case scenario for him. "Quint," she said gently, drawing his face back towards hers. "Quint, we can get out of this. But we need to work on the generators. Okay? We can get out of this."
"R-Right," Quint said, hating himself for his weakness. "Right… The generators…"
"Okay. C'mon, while the Hunger is hunting the other two," Ada said.
Quint blinked. "The Hunger?" he asked.
Ada shook her head. "The shark. All of the killers have nicknames we call them. After looking in that thing's eyes…" She shivered softly.
Quint laughed humorlessly. "The Hunger. A fine name for that beast," he said. And they ran off, heading for the next generator.
Dwight and Meg, for their part, started work on another generator. "Fuck…" Meg said. "Fuck…"
"You gonna be okay, Meg?" Dwight asked.
"I got chewed on, what do you think?" Meg snarked, she and Dwight chuckling nervously. She'd been healed, but blood was still staining her shirt, and she'd have a new set of bite mark-shaped scars after this trial.
Dwight shook his head. "A fucking shark now," he said. "Wonder what we're gonna call this one?"
"Ada suggested The Hunger," Meg said. "I think it fi-LOOK OUT!"
Meg dashed back, but Dwight get away in time. The Hunger's tail lashed up, creating a wave of water that knocked Dwight off of his feet and into the water. Panicking, he tried to get back onto the bridge, but another wave of water pushed him away. The Hunger turned, heading backwards and getting ready for a charging attack.
Dwight started swimming, going as fast as he could. Meg saw where he was going and got an idea. "DWIGHT! Go for one of the drop gates! I think they're like the palettes for this trial!"
Dwight changed directions slightly, heading for the gate in question, swimming like a man possessed. That ominous fin ducked under the bridge, almost casually making its way towards Dwight. Terror pounded in his heart, the nerdy man praying that the gates could stop the creature. Sheer adrenaline made him just fast enough to get past the drop gate, Meg pulling the lever as the Hunger passed through.
The Hunger was caught up in the gate. Before it could start thrashing however, the gate suddenly lit up with electricity, shocking the shark and stunning it. Meg helped Dwight get back onto the bridge, the two of them running off.
The Hunger, furious that its prey hurt it, thrashed about, destroying the dropgate. That wouldn't be used on it again, it vowed. It barely understood the new thoughts that went through its head, but a reassuring voice guided it. It went on the hunt again.
And unfortunately for the humans, things did not go well for them. The closest thing they had to a win was when Quint was freed from the jaws of the Hunger after Ada shined a powerful flashlight in its eyes, blinding it.
Quint gave the flashlight an incredulous look. "Magic bullshit," Ada said. "These things work even if the thing doesn't HAVE eyes."
"I hate this," Quint said flatly.
"We all do," Meg said.
The rest of the trial went horribly. Ada was hooked twice more, as was Meg. Quint and Dwight both got hooked as well. The arena itself was horrible, a constant rain lashing them, along with bursts of hurricane force winds that would risk knocking them into the water. And the shark was a relentless predator.
Quint watched helplessly as Meg was dragged into the sky, her body reduced to shadows as she disappeared into the clouds, pulled by dark, spidery legs. Dwight cursed. "Okay… Okay, shit…" he said. "I'm on deadhook, you still have two hooks left before you're done… I am NOT letting a new person die on their first trial. I REFUSE." He looked directly at Quint. "If I die, you need to find the hatch."
"The wha?" Quint said.
"The hatch. Big metal door in the ground with a hole full of creepy darkness. It'll open when there's one person left. Jump in and don't stop running until you see the campfire," Dwight said.
"No, lad," Quint said firmly, shaking his head. "We'll both make it out."
"Appreciate the optimism, but just work with me on this," Dwight said. "C'mon. There's one more generator left to do before the door opens."
They both had to hide from the shark on the roof of one of the more ruined buildings, Dwight jolting whenever lightning rumbled through the sky. "Not a fan of storms, eh?" Quint teased.
"I'm not a fan of hurricanes," Dwight said. "I know its stupidly obvious, but I was a city boy before I was forced to become a parkour engineer."
Quint would ask what parkour meant later. He just laughed. "I've been in a hurricane before, lad. Winds were strong, but stronger than this. And near constant, the rain going sideways instead of at an angle like this is. I think your Entity is just messing with us."
"Oh, there's no question," Dwight said. "The only reason we don't have the type of winds you mentioned is that the Entity has a weird sense of fair play."
"Invincible fucking shark," Quint said. He looked at it stalking around their hiding place. And smarter, too… Starting to hate this Entity…
"Like I said – weird sense," Dwight chuckled. "All right… Let's see if we can make a run for the last generatorrr…" He trailed off, staring into a hole in the roof they were sitting on.
Hanging on a corkboard was a keychain of sorts. An ivory head, one half a face, one half a skull.
"What?" Quint said. "What is that?"
Dwight shivered. "Both sides can find things to burn as offerings to the Entity," he said. "One thing the killers can offer is one of three types of Memento Mori. An artifact which gives the killers permission to kill someone outright instead of sacrificing them. And the Entity has GIVEN a Mori to the Hunger." Actually, come to think of it, Vecna, Dracula, and Candyman all had Moris for their first trial too. Oh fuck, the Entity's giving the newcomers a chance to show off...
Quint's eye twitched as he got the implication. "Fuck me sideways with a boat engine…" he muttered.
Dwight looked at the circling fin. "We have to make a run for the generator," he said. He was certain they wouldn't make it. But one of them would. From his position, he saw the hatch over by the police station. "Right. On my mark. One… two… THREE!"
Quint and Dwight jumped down from the house, landing on one of the paths. They both staggered briefly, slipping on the water, but ran off quickly, just barely missing the Hunger as the shark lunged over the path.
Unfortunately, the shark was ready for them. The Hunger whipped its tail, creating a wave of water that knocked Quint and Dwight into the water. Quint managed to get back to the path, but the shark chomped into Dwight, dragging him off. And as he screamed in pain, Dwight suddenly knew he wouldn't be taken to a hook. "THE HATCH! BY THE POLICE STATION!" he screamed, howling in agony as the shark began to devour him, each bite like liquid fire in his veins. "GO FOR THE HAGGGHH!" His screams trailed off, blood spurting from his mouth as the shark chomped on him yet again, shaking him from side to side as he dove underwater with him.
Quint, having a SEVERE PTSD flashback to the Indianapolis, began talking to himself, trying to force himself to move, tears streaming down his face as he stared hopelessly at the spot Dwight vanished. "Get back on the path, Quint," he told himself. "This means nothing if you don't get back on the path and move…"
Dwight died a bad death, chomped into pieces and devoured by the Hunger. The shark felt a brief satisfaction at having a chance to eat. It didn't know what happened. Thoughts were… strange to the creature. There was a tasteless metal thing, then burning pain… and then the soft whispers in its head. Telling it what to do in exchange for food.
The Hunger wasn't sure what to make of all of this. He just knew there was prey. Prey that he could see from the strange markings they emitted, almost like blood. It understood blood. And there was one more left to hunt.
Quint, breathing heavily, his heart racing with fear, forced himself back onto the path with a scream, just barely missing the shark's attack. Hatch, he told himself. Police station. He thought of the Chief and Hooper as he ran, silently praying that they were all right, silently praying that his foolishness in dealing with the shark didn't get them killed. He teased Mrs. Brody, but she was a good woman and didn't deserve to be a widow. He ran as fast as he could, swearing and cursing the shark the entire time.
The hatch lay open before him, oozing sheer darkness. The logical part of his mind told him that there was nothing beneath that darkness but water. The part of him that wanted to LIVE told him to KEEP MOVING. With a roar, he launched himself into the hatch with a leap, just barely avoiding a final lunge from the shark. The door to the hatch slammed shut with a loud clang, leaving the shark alone in the flooded copy of Amity Island.
You did well, the voice in the Hunger's head said. Three of them are mine. And there will be other opportunities to hunt the man who lured you to your doom.
The shark didn't fully understand what the voice was saying. But it seemed pleased, so that was all right.
Hunger, they called you… A good name, my beast. Enjoy your hunting grounds. Eat of the fish I have provided for you. More human prey will come soon enough…
The shark swam off, heading for deeper waters. It didn't like the stormy weather. But the voice in its head was one that didn't allow for argument. It would return to hunt when bidden.
Besides. The prey that the voice provided were… interesting…
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In the darkness…
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Quint landed in the hatch his shoulder thumping against a metal wall. The door slammed shut automatically, leaving him in total darkness. He had NO idea where this hatch was taking him, but he followed the advice he was given and started running in the opposite direction of the wall.
The dark of the tunnel gave way to a grassy trail, fog surrounding him on either side. Magic bullshit, he thought, mildly amused. He kept going, thinking about those brave young people, shaking softly. The Indianapolis all over again… He shivered, not just from fear, but from the cold, his body soaking wet. "Farewell and adieu to you fair Spanish ladies…" he sang, trying to keep the memories and guilt from flooding him. "Farewell and adieu to you ladies of Spain…"
Eventually, after several minutes of walking, the fog parted, revealing an older man in a military coat sitting on a log next to a campfire, smoking a cigarette. The old man looked up, waving Quint over. "I'm guessing you're new to all this," he said, offering Quint a cigarette. "Name's Bill Overbeck. US Army, 1st Special Forces Group, Vietnam."
Quint hnnhed, accepting the cigarette gratefully. He needed to get warm and would accept anything at this point. "Quint. US Navy. USS Indianapolis, World War II." Bill's eyes widened, first in shock, then in the kind of understanding only two veterans could share. He said nothing more, which Quint was grateful for. Quint puffed the cigarette as he sat down, letting the warmth of the campfire wash over him. "Bit old for a Vietnam vet. That was just winding down when I died. The way those bastards treated everyone who came home…"
Bill chuckled softly. "I'm from a couple dozen years after that," he said. "And yeah, I got my share of people spitting on me…"
Quint shook his head. "Magic bullshit… They were right…"
Bill frowned. "I'm guessing you came from a trial?" he said.
"Aye," Quint said. "I was a sharker. Hunted sharks for a living." He puffed his cigarette. "Can't deny it… I took the job because I was looking for a little bit of revenge for what happened to my crewmates. But this one shark…" He shook his head. "I got too overeager. And it got me eaten." He scowled. "And then it followed me here. I go from dying in the middle of the ocean to being in some warped version of my hometown in the middle of a hurricane, with the same ruddy shark hunting me and three others!"
Bill puffed his cigarette, sighing. "Of course there's a shark now…" He shook his head. He hated how unsurprised he was. "Who was with you?" he asked.
"Redhead. Meg Thomas. A sort of nebbishy fellow with a lot of strength behind him, Dwight Fairfield. And this exotic lass, Ada Wong," Quint said.
Bill nodded. "Hnh. They'll be back, don't worry. When you get sacrificed or killed, you awaken in the graveyard over there," he said, gesturing over his shoulder. "I'll show you later." He chuckled sardonically. "Or you'll go there on your next trial."
"Fun," Quint said. He puffed his cigarette, the two old soldiers staring at the fire. "Tell me, how much 'magic bullshit' am I going to be dealing with and how much alcohol will I be wishing for before you're done explaining?"
Bill chuckled. "A lot, and gallons," he said. "Fortunately, we're in the process of getting a still set up."
Quint brightened. "Really now?" he said.
Bill nodded. "We just have to steal a few more parts from certain trial realms," he said. At Quint's questioning look, he clarified. "Its tricky, dangerous, and Jake's about the only one who can do it on the regular, but we can leave our campgrounds and go to the various trial grounds to look around. Granted, sometimes the killers are there too, or flat out live there, but…" He shrugged.
A young man in police gear staggered up to the campfire, clutching at his neck. "Fuck…" he said.
"Leon Kennedy, meet Quint," Bill said. Quint nodded in greeting.
Leon smiled weakly. "Forgive me if I don't say hi. Bad trial with Dracula. I'm the only one who got away…" he said.
Quint blinked. "Dracula. Like the vampire from the Bela Legosi movie," he said. He'd only seen it once, but he remembered it clearly.
Bill chuckled. "A bit more intimidating than Sir Bela, but yes."
Quint puffed his cigarette. "...I think we need to finish that still quickly."
Bill and Leon chuckled weakly. Quint smiled, despite his situation. He… well, he hated how things were right now. But maybe he could get through this. Briefly, he wondered if this was Ada's 'cute naive policeman,' but put aside the thought for now. He just wanted to dry off and rest for a bit. He had a whole new life to get used to now… His mind wandered to Chief Brody. A good man. He really hoped he didn't get the man killed...
TO BE CONTINUED…
Clue for next time…
I knew you could not resist the call of the box…
The priest and the brute have had their fun…
Now it is our turn...