You reflect on your past at the campfire and someone visits you in your sleep.
"What do you miss?" Jane asked David, crossing one leg over the other.
You, Jane and David were seated comfortably on large worn logs that surrounded the main campfire, it's flames reaching for the night sky.
David rubbed his chin thoughtfully as he leaned slightly to the side, his eyes gazing into the fire. You and Jane watched him patiently, the warmth of the fire caressing your skin.
"I miss tea. I really, really miss tea," David said, a warm smile forming across his face.
Jane laughed, rolling her eyes.
"Of course you do."
There was a moment of silence, the sound of popping wood filling the clearing. You raised your face to the sky above, sleep only just beginning to creep into your body.
David then turned to you, lifting his chin up slightly.
"What about you mate? What do you miss about your old life?"
Jane tilted her head in your direction, her eyes meeting your own with a tired smile.
You glanced at them both, a sudden tinge of pain in your chest at the thought of your life before The Fog. You had worked so very hard to move on from it, to accept that you would no longer be apart of it. Your life, though filled with many trials and tribulations, you missed terribly. The people, the sounds, the smells, the mundane. You missed your angry and bitter neighbor who complained every day of your dogs barking. You missed the smell of gasoline whenever you stopped for gas and the sound that your rusted car door would make every time you shut it.
You missed the love and affection of family and friends. Not that it wasn't displayed here, but it was rare and it was different. A wide smile and a hug from a family member you hadn't seen in a while, or a deep kiss from a past lover and how their smell lingered on your clothes. You missed things you didn't even like. Like the smell of coffee breath from a coworker, or the sound of your alarm.
Your eyes became glazed as your stare became distant and David cleared his throat.
"Its alright, you don't have to answer," he said, waving a hand in the air dismissively.
You smiled, greatful for the pass.
David then looked around, scratching the back of his head.
"Where are the rest of them anyway? They are late."
You raised your eyebrows in amazement, still shocked in David's, amongst others, ability to keep some sort of time in The Fog. You struggled tremendously with it, unable to even keep track of short periods as it was night all the time at the campsite. You recalled how Claudette had tried to explain to you ways of tracking the "days" that passed, though to you it had seemed like one neverending day. You knew you had been here a long time and had at one point asked Claudette how long you had been here since your arrival.
She had looked at you wearily for a moment, her fidgeting with her fingers, a nervous habbit she did that you had picked up on. You could tell she was determining whether or not to even tell you and you continued to press her.
"330 days," she finally said, as she squeezed her hands together in her lap, her eyes falling to the floor.
You had stood staring at her in disbelief, a wave of nausea coursing through your stomach. Claudette lifted her eyes to your own, them reflecting a great sorrow, and you couldn't imagine how long she and the other veteran survivors had actually been in The Fog. You didnt want to know. You turned to your side and wretched violently into the grass, bending over. Claudette placed a hand on your back and you knew right then and there that you would never ask again.
"Seriously, where are they?" David crossed his arms while shaking his head, displeased.
It was routine for survivors to try and get together after each trial to discuss what they could have done differently. What they could have done better.
Suddenly, faint chatter and crunching footsteps could be heard approaching and all three of you turned towards its direction. Claudette and Dwight emerged from the surrounding trees and into the clearing, making their way to the campfire.
"Well. It's about time!" David shouted, a smile creeping on his face as he gazed at Dwight who took a seat on David's lap, swinging an arm around his neck.
You watched with masked longing as they kissed passionately, Dwight pushing on David's chest playfully when he pulled away.
"It wasn't even that long, you're being dramatic," Dwight said, meeting yours and Janes gaze.
Claudette took a seat on the floor with a sigh while resting her back on the log at which you sat, stretching her feet and hands out towards the fire.
"Dwight noticed berries growing in a few bushes passed the outhouses and wood gathering spot. I beleive they are edible. I plan on testing them out tomorrow."
"Berries?! I'd kill for something sweet right now," Jane said, reaching her hands out towards the flame.
Claudette glanced at Jane briefly before rubbing the back of her neck.
"I cannot guarantee they will be sweet, however."
Jane frowned, dissapointed.
There was a moment where everyone just sat in comfort, enjoying the silence and the warmth of the fire.
David then spoke.
"So, last trial. I'd say we did pretty damn good. Especially considering it was your first time against that slithering bastard." David turned to look over at you, a proud exspression on his face.
Claudette bumped your shin with her elbow playfully, glancing up to smile at you. You observed that her wound was completely gone and her shirt void of blood, made whole once again. A reminder of just how twisted The Entity truly was.
You forced a smile, unable to stop thinking about the peculiar way the Ghostface acted with you, the phantom feeling of his mark tingling throughout your body.
Dwight glanced at David with a concerned look, before turning to face you.
"What happened?" Dwight asked.
David waited for you to explain for your self with an assuring exspression but you struggled to get even a singular word out.
"The Ghostface had her pinned to the floor...it was extremely unusual and I don't even want to think about what would have happened if I didn't find her," he said shaking his head in disgust.
It occurred to you then that from David's perspective, it did look pretty bad. Though everything was telling you Killers had no moral and could technically do what ever they wanted to survivors, you felt otherwise with the Ghostface. You felt he was genuinely curious about you and your marks.
You swallowed, frustrated that you would even consider a Killer having any moral compass at all.
"Claud told me to stare at him to prevent myself from being completely marked. It worked, though it was a strange feeling. It felt li-"
"Like your life force was being sucked out?" Claudette interrupted, her eyes wide and distant as she stare into the flames.
"Y...yes...just like that," you said, blinking down at her.
Dwight then rested the side of his head on David's shoulder, David holding Dwight tightly by his waist.
"Yeah, it's one of the most unusual abilities I've ever encountered with a Killer. Most Killers are pure brute force, aimlessly going after you- like they are mind controlled or something. But the Ghostface feels personal and thought out. I despise it." Dwight shuddered and David held him even closer, nodding in agreement.
You glanced at everyone, them all gazing into the fire now. Jane yawned which prompted Dwight to yawn, Dwights eyelids closing slowly now.
"His mark though," you said suddenly. "What kind of power is that?"
David raised his eyebrows thoughtfully, shrugging slightly.
"Who knows. A terrible ability granted from The Entity, no doubt. It's an awful feeling once he successfully marks you. Like he's scratching your insides with chicken wire. Its Invasive." David frowned in displeasure at the thought, resting his cheek on top of Dwights head who was now asleep.
Your eyebrows bunched together in confusion at Davids description of the Ghostface mark, it not matching at all what you felt at the gate.
Suddenly a pair of footsteps could be heard approaching the campfire, promting glances from you, Jane and Claudette.
The feeling of unease crept it's way at the pit of your stomach at the sight of Jonah approaching, you both having unresolved beef with eachother.
Jonah approached leisurely standing inches away from the fire, his hands outreached. He scanned the group as they greeted him lazily, everyone being too tired for much more conversation. Jonahs eyes lingered on your own with bitterness and he spat to his side.
"How's it going, everyone?" He asked.
"Oh, just peachy. Living the life here in this hell...," Jane said, her eyes struggling to stay open.
Jonah laughed quietly, rubbing his hands together.
"Yeah, that sounds about right," he replied, his stare returning to your own. You tried your best to hide your displeasure with his presence, only now realizing and appreciating how long it had been since you've seen him.
"Well, i think it's about time for us to go bed. This one's beginning to drool...," David said, lifting Dwights head up and off of his shoulder.
"I agree, sleep is calling me," Claudette said, stretching her hands to the sky.
"Me as well," you said while standing.
Jane's eyes drifted to Jonahs and smiled mischievously.
"I'm going to be up for a bit more. Jonah, come sit by me,'" she said while patting the spot next to her on the log. Jonah smiled before promptly taking a seat next to her. You eyed him briefly with disdain before he was able to notice, turning quickly to head to the area where you usually slept.
"Night everyone," you said and everyone accept Jonah replied with a 'goodnight'.
You held yourself tightly as you headed into the woods, eventually into a small clearing where a very worn and tattered sleeping bag awaited you. You shivered slightly before kneeling down onto it, sleep urging you to lie down quickly so you could slip away. Tonight you were unusually tired and you noted this as you tucked yourself into your sleeping bag, it being the only thought your head could muster before quickly succumbing to slumber.
Your breath was steady as you slept soundly and deeply. The night air was cool as the trees danced above you silently and somewhere in the distance a lone cricket chirped repeatedly. Your arms had made their way out from under your sleeping bag above your head, your hair sprawled messily against the flat cold dirt.
A gloved hand slowly made its way to your cheek, it's fingertips dragging down the side of your face gently, stopping at the left side of your neck. The fingertips found their way to one of your burn marks, lingering. Your lips were parted slightly and your moaned softly at their touch.
"Hi Clumsy...," a soft voice came from your right.
The fingers then brushed down to your shoulder and on to your left arm, tracing your marks carefully and softly. They made their way up to your forearm and you smiled faintly in your sleep at the sensation. The fingers continued to trace up to your hand and onto your own fingers.
"What happened to you, I wonder..."
You snorted once, turning your head to the other side.
The gloved fingers then found their way back on your cheek, a thumb grazing over your top lip.
"Beautiful..."
The hand then cupped the side of your face and you leaned into its hold, your eyebrows furrowed.
The thumb caressed your cheek a couple more times before the hand removed completely, leaving you wanting. You began to mumble and stir and your eyes fluttered open to stare up at the pitch black night sky. You gasped, sitting up lifting a hand to your face, confused.
You shot a glance from side to side but there was no one there. You slowly looked down at your left arm, holding it in your other. Your eyes fell to your burn marks, the pain of that horrible day in your old life returning. You laughed bitterly at the fact you had to remember that awful night in your past while quiet literally living in some kind of hell. It was a sick joke. But you had no desire to have pity for yourself or from anyone else for that matter. You never did.
You gradually laid back down, tucking yourself all the way back into your sleeping bag, feeling more alone than you usually did. You closed your eyes, the last trial prodding at your mind.