While it was taking unusually long for the fog to roll in, the four survivors lapped up every second of freedom by the campfire, doing their best to ignore the exponential knot of dread within them. It was in these sparse moments of peace where they struggled to remember what it meant to be normal humans again, each constantly watching out for danger as they timidly spoke to one another around the fire.
Jake proved himself to be somewhat of a pioneer, cuing them all in on his little hook sabotaging methods which aroused a ton of praise from his fellow survivors. And then he also detailed his instructions on how to unhook yourself, which he admitted hurt like Hell and ran the risk of causing more bodily damage yet it could be utilized in a dire situation. Dwight and Meg stared at him with slack jaws considering he explored dangerous waters on their behalf, coming out victorious with rather helpful new strategies in the end. Who knew there would be trial trendsetters.
Then Claudette followed him up and discussed her theory surrounding the purple cloth, standing and giving a somewhat formal presentation on her hypothesis before tossing the thing into the fire, declaring that if they all started together in the upcoming trial then her point shall be proven true.
Something about the various discussions happening around the campfire made Meg feel warm inside, gradually slipping a smile onto her lips. There was a very miniscule spark of happiness igniting within her but the shadowy cloud of despair was far too cumbersome to let her fan the flame of those subtle, amiable moments with the others. She knew that as soon as the fog came it would be back to hearing the people around her screaming and crying as they desperately fought for their lives. The never ending bloodshed, the ravaged flesh all wrapped around glaring blades and the paralyzing fear... every degrading image of the previous trials flashed through her, making Meg's smile falter suddenly amongst the jovial campfire chatter. She wanted nothing more than to really learn about and befriend these people but the closer she got to their hearts, the more turmoil it sent her through to see unspeakable things happen to them... it really was just an unfortunate thing- all of it was.
As if being the secret cause of the horrible thoughts taunting her, Meg could see the slightest amount of dark fog impeding on her peripherals.
The lightheartedness was wiped away in an instance. They all stood stiff like boards, hands clenched in nervous fists with everyone's quickened breathing creating a rhythm of anxiety that aroused the fog closer and closer...
As it crawled up Meg's body, she wondered if any of this would ever get easier- truly debating whether there was an end. They were approaching their third trial... How many more would there be after this? Was this pain an eternal one or was there a way to escape the claws of torture?
The fog began to fade, exposing her skin to the sweet feeling of sunlight that instantly warmed her. Meg's heart hitched, genuinely believing for a split second that this could be their release back into the real world.
But it ended as soon as the reeking miasma of death circled through her senses, nearly halting the air from breezing through her nose like a cork in a wine bottle. The stench was so thick and potent that Meg dry heaved on the spot, kneeling over with a hand cradling her stomach while she retched.
"Well the cloth worked." Came Dwight's exhausted voice from behind Meg, who could only focus on not hurling her guts up rather than the success of Claudette's theory. "And that smell is fucking terrible."
A hand gently caressed Meg's shoulder, causing her to momentarily look up and find Claudette standing worriedly beside her. "You'll be okay," She assured the redhead quietly. "It's coming from... that..."
Meg looked in the opposite direction, spotting a harrowing sight which she immediately jolted away from. It was a monumental, winding tree with far reaching branches that hoisted up the decaying carcasses of slaughtered livestock. Mutilated and disemboweled cows dangled by fraying ropes tied around their hooves, swinging with the whistling wind that carried their horrible stench with it. The branches creaked and groaned with the dead weight suspended off of them, harmonizing with a strange groaning hum that almost seemed as though it was coming from within the tree itself.
It gave the sense of being... alive.
"Fuck," Meg spat out through a gag. "Get me... the fuck away from that."
She allowed Claudette to lead her away from the sacrificial tree, barely being alleviated from the God awful odor. It was just enough distance to allow the girl to inhale some semi-clean air.
"What kind of fucked up backwoods- hillbilly shit are we in right now?" Cried Meg as she got the chance to finally observe their new hellscape. They were in the middle of a fucking corn field.
"I don't know but let's go find the generators and get the Hell out." Dwight urged them nervously, moving past the girls and into the thick of the towering corn stalks. They all followed closely behind, trying to walk in between the rows so they didn't disturb the crops too much. It might give away their position to whatever monster was bound to be ravenously searching for them.
They trudged along before halting as Dwight turned around and faced the group. "I feel like we should split up and go in pairs of two. That way when someone gets chased, the other person can get them off the hook while we have at least two others on gens at all times. Sticking all together is just going to end up in us getting separated anyways."
Claudette looked back at Jake, who shrugged and nodded, which caused her to also gesture in support of the plan. "Sure. I'll go with Jake. Do you want me to take the med-kit or...?"
The botanist held out the battered box to which Dwight waved her off. "Go ahead and keep it, you seem like the best one to have it."
With that they split apart from one another, Claudette and Jake wandering to the left and Meg trailing after Dwight into the opposite direction.
The sun no longer gave Meg any sense of solace despite being sick of the never ending darkness of the campfire. It was basking them in unbearable humidity that had her sweating by the time they happened upon the first gen, which was flickering in the middle of the field. With a shot of intuition urging her survival instincts to take hold, Meg realized she did not feel safe working on this generator, considering the stalks around them were so dense that they probably wouldn't be able to see danger coming until it was too late. But as Dwight got right to work, Meg didn't feel like convincing him to move to a different one. Maybe they'd be fine.
After twisting and curving through the corn to get to the side of the gen nearest to Dwight, the girl kneeled down and lethargically stuck her hands in the main chamber to get the blockages removed. It remained somewhat of a tedious task but with the amount of practice they had gotten from the last two trials it was practically muscle memory by now.
The steady movement of a single piston marked the generator's first quarter of completion, prompting Dwight to look to Meg.
"Keep an eye out for chests. We are running low on supplies." He advised her in a low tone that was almost masked entirely by the generator's rhythm. Meg just nodded before returning her focus to the repairments. He was right, they were in desperate need of a new med-kit, plus one of those syringes would be great to have again in case someone ever got extremely injured. Poor Claudette deserved it more last trial than Meg did when she was slashed by the Trapper.
Two pistons were now pumping. Halfway there.
Meg kept at her work of restoring the generator when she heard the corn rustling behind her. Her neck could've broken with how fast she turned to make sure there wasn't anything back there.
Nothing. She waited a beat then cautiously turned back.
"Don't worry, I'm keeping an eye out." Dwight reassured the girl, making her feel a little better as she continued to reassign parts.
Three pistons. Quarter left.
There were more sounds coming from behind Meg, sending goosebumps all across the surface of her skin. There was something lurking around, she felt it.
"Dwight- we need to leave." Meg whispered, nearly tearing up from the awful dread forming in her gut as she freed her hands from the generator, crouching close to him with her nudging his shoulder. Everything within the girl was begging her to run but she wasn't going to just leave him there.
"We are almost done, just stand behind me if it makes you feel better." He offered, wanting to just get the thing powered and over with so they could keep pushing their way out. The progress slowed now that Meg was no longer helping, leaving Dwight to take on the last bit of the repair process on his own.
She was going insane while huddled behind him, hearing the corn swaying from the wind- sometimes sounding like footsteps all around her or something weaving through the crops. But Meg knew for a fact that it wasn't just the wind toying with her. It was almost as if she'd developed a sixth sense that detected the evil presence of the demented killers that watched their prey from the shadows- or more precisely watched them from the shadows.
Standing out from the sounds of the breeze and dry stalks scraping against one another was an almost inaudible metal clanking. Meg's heart skipped a beat, really listening out for where it was coming from. She turned to her left, baring her ear. Clink... clink... it was getting closer, fast.
"Fuck- please Dwight I hear something-" Meg warned him, feeling hot waves of anxiety flood her body. She started yanking on the collar of his shirt to force him off of the damned generator, sneakers digging into the dirt to haul all of his weight backward. She wasn't going to let him sit there and get hurt, even if it meant man handling him.
"Meg stop-"
She heard it roar to life, the mere single note of its devastating song shredding her inside and out with a holy terror.
A chainsaw. A motherfucking chainsaw.
The sheer sound of it was nearly death inducing on its own- making her knees weak with debilitating fear. Meg could see it raised up in the air by a figure obscured behind the corn, the serrated chain reflecting the sunlight in the most menacing way possible. It rotated at an impossible speed, the effortless lacerations already flashing in her mind as she breathed out, seeing it come closer and closer to her in slow motion.
Meg barely had a moment to register what happened as the blade suddenly charged forward with such a vicious plunge that it was just a blur, coming right down onto her thigh which was well exposed from how her body was angled from pulling Dwight backward.
Much like all the other injuries she'd sustained, Meg was first rattled with a mighty scream that was nearly swallowed whole by the bellowing chainsaw motor. Then she shot off, running through the corn while struggling to not get caught up in the density of the field. Huge, dried husks slapped her face, leaving her unable to see between them and the tears.
She heard the chainsaw again, this time it was back where the generator was- her thoughts heading right to Dwight. Whoever the chainsaw wielding monster was must've set its sights on her companion, leaving Meg a short moment to finally inspect the severity of her wound. Boy, was it a grisly sight.
The whole top layer of her thigh was hanging off in a long, bloody strip which was barely supported by her torn pants. Her breathing became ragged at daring to lay her eyes on the disgusting gore, hands shakily reaching down to smooth the skin back over where it belonged.
Her teeth clenched together, the contact greeting Meg with horrible new sensations that clouded her senses with floods of pain. She needed to do something about this. So much skin hanging off would become a major distraction, not to mention it hurt like a bitch when she ran or did anything, really.
Of course she didn't have the med-kit, not that it would be much help. Dwight's tie was the most useful thing in there aside from Claudette's plants. Although Meg didn't have much faith in those dainty purple flowers making this injury feel the slightest bit better. What she actually needed was an emergency room but that was only in her most cherished dreams now. Waiting for five hours in an uncomfortable chair to receive medical attention seemed like a glorious time compared to this shit that has been forced onto her.
Knowing she didn't have any other options, Meg decided to start rolling her pant leg all the way up to her thigh and to where the loose skin was. She continued to roll it even higher, feeling the fabric become taut against the wound, somewhat holding it all together as the muscles and flesh squished in union. Meg did her best to swallow the pain as her tears shattered down and mixed with blood. It would have to do until she found Claudette or another med-kit.
Right now she needed to defy all survival instincts that told her otherwise and go to Dwight's aid in order to unhook him if he got caught. With hesitant steps, she carefully limped back to the generator and found that it was a sparking mess and only two of the pistons were running rather than almost all four. What happened to it? Did it somehow get damaged?
Meg flipped the lever on the main frame, seeming to fix the issue with it. It would have to stay half progressed for now since there were more pressing issues to attend to. She continued pushing forward, listening out for the chainsaw but heard nothing aside from the husks around her swaying in the wind...
"I'm sorry I yelled at you earlier."
Jake turned, seeing a visibly upset Claudette who was looking at him with big sad eyes.
"Water under the bridge." He told her while trying to keep a lookout for any generators or crazed monsters thirsty to slaughter them. Hadn't they already resolved this?
"It's not usually like me," She continued with a sheepish groan, slapping the med-kit against her knee. "It's just... so stressful. I don't want people getting hurt because of me."
The words prompted Jake to stop walking and turn around to fully face her.
"Me either. So please do not heroically throw yourself in front of me again." He pleaded, staring right into her eyes so hopefully he could get the point through to the stubborn girl. Apparently they hadn't resolved this.
Claudette sighed, moving past him to keep searching for a gen. "I did that because you started it by taking his attention off of me."
"Claudette, now is not the time or place for this conversation." Jake scolded the girl while catching up to her speed as they stumbled through the corn stalks, eventually emerging into a wide and almost empty clearing save for some wooden crates and piles of plywood littered around. In the center of it was a creepy looking tree, branches somewhat reminding Jake of the Entity's claws that had nearly ended him on the hook last trial.
He received no response from the botanist as she meandered up to the eerie tree, just standing in front of it for a prolonged time while he watched in confusion.
"What are you doing?" He finally called out, coming up behind her when he noticed something carved into the bark. EM.
"I've seen this before..." She claimed while reaching into her back pocket, yanking out a silver necklace. Holding it up to view, Jake got closer and soon realized that EM was also inscribed on the dainty heart locket- making them both stand there trying to connect the dots. "It must belong here... maybe?"
"Where did you find this?"
Claudette peered up at him. "In the last place- the junkyard, it was in a chest with the purple cloth."
"I don't understand... is it a clue or... a key? What does it mean?" Jake thought aloud, not really sure what to make of the occurrence. The girl beside him hummed, sharing the same puzzled thought.
"I'll just keep it. Maybe it'll make sense later." She concluded, wandering off to keep on their search when they were suddenly halted- hearing the chilling echoes of a chainsaw thundering from somewhere far away. They both looked to one another fearfully, not needing to say much of anything about it.
They already knew the routine well, not really being surprised by much of the terror anymore...
Her head perked up at the dreadful sound of the chainsaw, which was now closer to her position than previously.
Meg grimaced, willing herself to keep sneaking through the corn to stay on Dwight's trail. However she was met with an exit from the suffocating cornfield, leaving her vulnerable out in an expansive clearing full of dated farm equipment. She could see a looming harvester off in the distance, some long metal wagons rusting away with wooden crates and sacks of grain cluttering around them. It looked pretty quaint- maybe even peaceful but the underlying smell of rot made the setting very undesirable, not to mention its psychotic inhabitant running around slashing people with a chainsaw.
Standing out against the dead, yellow grass were splotches of blood, creating a trail leading up to a-
The redhead craned her neck up, discovering a desolate looking house sitting in the center of everything. The windows were boarded up, wood paneling on the outside all decaying and dilapidated with an overall disturbing energy being its defining trait. And she could see the blood left behind from Dwight going all the way up the porch steps and within the haunted looking mess of a home.
A shudder erupted from within Meg as she realized that was her next destination. How charming.
She took cautious steps beside the pools of crimson, hissing at the pain coursing up and down her leg which was all wet and dripping with blood. Her feet stepped up onto the porch, feeling the wood dip and croak under her light weight. Every single sound had her heart beating faster and faster.
"Agh!" A shout came from inside the house, seeming like it was echoing from upstairs as Meg crossed through the front door. She quickly shot back down to a crouch, recognizing Dwight's pain filled cry. A pang of distress hit her stomach, hating that he was getting hurt while she just snuck around waiting for him to be hooked. There just wasn't much she could do to help in general but especially not against a chainsaw. They'd all be lucky if they didn't lose any limbs this trial.
The floorboards above screeched as clumsy sounding footsteps left the weak house quaking, dust falling down from the ceiling with every disturbance. Meg held her breath, trying to avoid coughing as it fluttered around her face.
She stepped further in, being met with yet another foul smell similar to the one from the cow tree. Her grimace was nearly permanent as she snuck over to the dining room table, realizing that there was a thick coating of mystery sludge beneath it. It looked like the entrails of some poor animals... or humans... all mushed together, thus creating a reeking mess of slippery organic paste. Meg was close to passing out from how long she held her breath, not even wanting to breathe that shitty air in until she was left with no choice but to just pinch her nose and deal with it.
"Ahhhhhhhh!" Dwight's howls of torture burst through the floorboards from above. A shiver zipped through Meg as she evaded the dining table and its gross contaminations, heading to a short hallway behind the staircase. She had a feeling that whatever thing was hunting them would soon descend to the kitchen.
Sure enough, thunderous steps shuffled above and thudded down the stairs- revealing to Meg the grotesque sight of their new killer.
She could only see it from behind but it made the observation no less disturbing. This lopsided thing had a burnt and warped looking skin surface with long striated lines of bumpy flesh riding down its arms, creating many grooves that clung tightly to the contours of its muscle. Some planes of its skin were stapled shut and others were littered with bulbous abbesses, all swollen and aggravated looking. Curving up its back was the thing's crooked spine, twisting in all the wrong places leaving one shoulder hunched much higher than the other. And it wore a tattered wife-beater with sagging jeans held up by two leather belts, each article slathered in what she could only assume was Dwight's blood.
One deformed hand held a punishing hammer, the other wielding that God awful chainsaw. Both of which were dripping blood all across the hardwood floor as the thing trudged out of the house and into the cornfield.
Meg let out a long exhale she didn't realize she was holding in, cautiously heading back out into open view to go upstairs and check on Dwight. Each step groaned with her weight, leaving her panting with anxiety by the time she made it to the top. She moved to limp through a doorway that led into the bedroom, which of course was decaying with more unknown substances on the ground that emitted the most horrid of odors.
Beyond the bedroom was a balcony which Meg quickly realized was where Dwight dangled from a hook, half of his body visible in the doorway leading out there.
Quickly she made it over to him, locking her arms around his waist and hoisted him up and off of the hook with a mighty heave.
"Where'd he get you?" She asked him as soon as he was on his feet. They continued to have this problem of not being able to identify injuries considering the amount of gore all over their bodies from previous trials.
Dwight grimaced, hissing as he strode passed Meg to sit against the wall. Lifting up his arm, he revealed a very deep wound along the rib cage- those curving white bones peeking out through the ravaged flesh at Meg. The redhead took a deep breath, never really getting used to the body horror she'd witnessed over and over in this forsaken place.
"It also hit me in the leg with the hammer..."
"Okay, let me see if I can find something..." She told him quietly before checking the rest of the balcony, happily discovering that there was a generator up there with them. Moving along, Meg rounded a corner and saw yet another welcoming sight : The quaint glimmer of a chest- which looked inviting with the bright sun reflecting off of its metallic trim and latch. Hell yes.
Upon opening it, Meg realized luck was on her side that trial. With angels singing in her head, she reached into the cluttered chest and brandished a shiny new med-kit.
"It's your lucky day." She told Dwight as she returned, snaking into the spot beside him with the med-kit open on her lap.
He snorted, resulting in a ton of pain that left him wincing with regret. "Doesn't feel like it."
Meg took a look at what supplies they had, a frown dawning across her face when she saw that there wasn't much of anything useful for the severity of Dwight's wound. A needle and thread, a small roll of gauze and a few medium sized patches were not going to cut it against a chainsaw hack job. However there was one final piece of medical supply in there, that being a little purple bottle with a nondescript label on it serving to tell Meg absolutely nothing about the product. She hastily flipped it around in her hand, confirming that there wasn't any information to be seen.
As she unscrewed the cap and put her eye into the round opening, Meg found a sea of white powder within the bottle.
"Do you know what this... powder is?" She asked Dwight who seemed like he didn't give two shits about the white powder and just wanted the gaping hole in his side to go away.
"No," He gritted while trying to find the sweet spot of how to position his arm so that it didn't disturb the wound. Spoiler alert, there was no sweet spot.
Not seeing much of a choice, Meg figured she'd give the white powder a shot and commanded Dwight to lay down on his side so that she could get to the injury. After cursing and whimpering his way to the balcony floor, Dwight lifted his arm up and Meg immediately got to powdering down the large gash while praying it actually did something. The more she dusted it onto the throbbing flesh the more it seemed to somewhat mend the tiniest bit, the blood coagulating on the surface a fair amount. She didn't want to waste all of it so Meg capped the powder and tossed it back into the med-kit before taking out the gauze.
"That helped a lot," She muttered, looking back over the wound and discovering the powder had really taken away a lot of the severity of it. The skin at the edges was a light pink instead of deep red and the blood was no longer pouring out at a high rate.
"It feels better," Dwight breathed, scooting back up so that Meg could wrap the gauze around him.
As she unraveled some of the bandages, the girl looked up at him. "Can you unbutton a little bit of your shirt?"
For second Dwight was met with flushed cheeks, seeming as if he was uncomfortable by the idea but then realized this was a rather brutal survival situation. Any and all insecurities were thrown out of the window considering he'd cried, whined and nearly died in front of this girl several times. Showing his midriff was so far down the list of things to be embarrassed by that it actually made him mentally laugh. Taking his shirt off anywhere used to be something he was insanely afraid of... but now? He'd never put a shirt on for the rest of his life if it meant escaping this nightmare.
He began to shakily unbutton his grimy white shirt, revealing the much improved injury along his side.
Meg leaned forward and quickly wrapped the gauze around his torso and over the gash until the whole length of it was covered. They still had a decent amount of bandages leftover so that was some good news.
"Your leg?" She asked. "Does it need anything?"
He shook his head. "No, I think that it's just really bruised but nothing is broken, just bleeding a bit."
She clasped the med-kit closed and extended a hand to Dwight, helping him get on his feet again.
"Well... let's get to work then." She told him as they limped in unison toward the generator occupying the balcony along with them. The first piston was running in no time, the rhythm supplying a small amount of comfort because it was the delicious sound of being one step closer to escaping.
Meg absently hoped that Jake and Claudette were safe, begging that they had been able to get some work done while her and Dwight dealt with the killer...
"One down..." Jake remarked as he thrust the generator's lever down one last time, causing it to pop and power on. "Hopefully not many more to go."
They were out of the cornfield by then, having come across the same familiar wall arrangements that apparently existed in every trial, except these ones were all wooden and dusty, with miscellaneous farm equipment taking the place of some other pallet loops. It almost seemed like the shapes of the walls and the placements of windows and pallets were all the same in every location- they just had cosmetic modifications that matched the environment. It was weird to Jake. Everything was so... superficial and calculated- like a game or something.
In the distance Jake spotted a house and when he squinted up at the balcony he could see the flickering sparks of another generator being repaired, realizing that Meg and Dwight were working on the thing.
"Oh- they're at the house," He said while pointing, making Claudette turn and adjust her glasses to get a better look at the home.
"Good..." She hummed after a moment of recognition, deflating thereafter. "But where's the killer?"
"I don't know. Let's move and hopefully not find out."
And so they followed one another onto the next generator, which they found was in the middle of the cornfield. The strange thing was, it was already running a little bit with two pistons thrusting.
"Maybe they were working on it before?" Claudette mused with a shrug, stepping toward it when Jake thrust his arms around her and pulled the girl into the thick of the corn stalks. "Wha-!"
His gloved hand covered her mouth, giving her a moment to settle her eyes on the corn moving ahead of them instead of resisting him.
The killer was barely visible through the husks that obscured their vision but they could see its dark and hunched form shuffle up to the generator. It raised its leg and kicked it twice, boots denting the mainframe slightly which made sparks fly from it. The pistons slowed and began overturning the progress that had previously been made. It lingered for a moment, circling the machinery to make sure no one was around it.
Without realizing what he was doing, Jake accidentally had his hands over Claudette's mouth and nose, causing the girl to writhe ever so slightly in his grasp once she couldn't hold her breath any longer. Her fingers tore at his hand which he quickly released, knowing then what he had done by innocent mistake.
Pitifully, Claudette couldn't help the ragged gulp of air that she took to replenish her lungs.
As soon as the wisp of breath was sucked in, the thing's head whipped around and immediately locked onto the pair despite their hiding spot behind a few layers of corn.
Jake's heart fell right to his gut as a flood of guilt overpowered him. He grabbed Claudette's arm, pulled her close for a single second and made sure that she didn't do anything stupid for him, considering it was his fault that they were now discovered. "You better fucking run."
She could see the intensity of his glare and without hesitating for another moment the botanist shredded through the cornfield while Jake held his ground to take the killer away.
Leaving him behind, Claudette heard the shrill chainsaw tear through the sunny day, drawing a single tear from her eye as she hoped Jake would be okay.
