You find yourself hiding from The Ghostface after a trial goes south.
Blood curdling screams came from the large cabin resort in the center of the realm known as Ormand. You ducked low behind one of the lockers located in a small shack, your breaths shallow.
Despite the freezing cold temperature your hands were sweaty and your temples throbbed. The buttoned up blouse you had recieved after entering the trial was thin, and the bitter cold sliced through it like a knife through butter.
You closed your eyes, your hands pressed against the side of the locker. You had been summoned to a trial after what seemed like days since your last, which you faced a monstrous creature known as The Dredge. You and the survivors you were paired with barely escaped, and you had found it hard to sleep that following night.
The time that survivors had between trials at the campsite varied. Sometimes it lasted for a very long time, which was ideal. But sometimes survivors could be summoned back to a trial shortly after just completing one. No one seemed to be able to find a pattern to the frequency at which survivors were called to trial. It seemed to be for the most part, random.
Though, Claudette did have a theory. You recalled how she explained to you one night how she believed there was a connection between the amount of sacrifices a Killer was able to achieve in a singular trial. How the frequency of trials depended solely on how satsifed or, starved The Entity was. Though to you, you couldn't see how The Entity could ever be left dissapointed with the sheer amount of survivors It had collected.
You shivered violently as a gust of wind swept through the shack, pulling yourself up as you held onto the locker. This trial seemed to be never ending, and you had a terrible gut feeling none of you would be making it out alive. Only two generators had been complete to your knowledge and one survivor had been sacrificed already.
Another gut wrenching scream came from somewhere in the distance and your stomach turned. You knew who the Killer was, his black figure stark against the white snow. It was The Ghostface and any curiosity you had of him had vanished completely. There was only fear now. He was much more savage this trial, backing up the many stories told from the other survivors. You had watched him mercilessly slash and gash a survivor who you knew as Felix.
You had been working on a generator located in the large cabin, towards the beginning of the trial and movement outside of a window caught your eye. That is where you first saw and realized it was the Ghostface. He had Felix in a chokehold and you froze as you watched him insert his blade in Felix's lower back, his abdomen lurching forward from the sheer force at which the Ghostface impaled him.
Felix's mouth opened into a silent scream, his eyes wide as saucers. The Ghostface released Felix from his hold, allowing him to drop to the ground on his hands and knees, Felix's blood pooling in the snow. Felix had begun to crawl at a painfully slow speed, his pained whimpers the only thing to be heard.
I have to help him! I have to try!
Your heart was racing, thinking of anything you could do to help or even distract but as you scanned the cabin any ideas had failed you. You still were so very novice when it came to rescue or chase, your specialty being first aid. You left the half completed generator and crawled closer to the window, unable to look away from what would happen next.
You watched as the Ghostface lifted his blade in the air, observing it before wiping it against his chest. He slowly followed Felix in the snow, his boots crunching loudly as he took each agonizingly slow step. You noticed Felix was visibly shaking as he turned to look at the Ghostface, a weak cry of fear escaping his throat.
Felix turned onto his bum, pushing himself back in vain with his feet. The Ghostface finally reached Felix and froze, his shadow looming over Felix's body. Your adrenaline was through the roof as you watched tears flow from Felix's eyes and though he was crying, he stared up at the Ghostface with familiar hatred, his lips curling into a snarl. The Ghostface then squatted down on his heels, bringing his face level with Felix's own.
You watched as the Ghostface leisurely reached into his cloak to pull out his camera, positioning the small window close to his eye. Felix raised a hand in front of his face, his blood bright red against the snow underneath him. The Ghostface then snapped a photo, the flash excruciatingly bright even in the sunlight. Felix squinted and you saw he was struggling to keep himself upright, he was losing too much blood.
It was only then that you realized that the Ghostface seemed to take his own kind of sick pleasure in this drawing out way of killing. It felt customized, fine tuned, like Dwight had described previously. You watched with baited breath as the Ghostface looked at the photo that slid out of the camera, his head tilted to the side.
Felix then coughed, blood spurting from his mouth and down his chin, his eyes fluttering. The Ghostface then reached for the top of Felix's shirt, balling it in his hands. Felix pounded The Ghostface grip with his fists, but he was too weak and the Ghostface stood to his feet while simultaneously lifting Felix. You watched in horror as the Ghostface suddenly inserted his blade in Felix's lower abdomen, causing Felix to bend over forward into the Ghostface chest.
They both stood in the snow as the Ghostface blade remained inside of Felix and if one didn't know the context, they would think they were actually embracing. Felix's eyes went wide as his chin rested on the Ghostface shoulder and his eyes met your own through the busted window. You gasped and covered your mouth, your heart sinking as you watched him die in the Ghostface arms.
The Ghostface then removed his blade from Felix and bent over to hoist him over his shoulder, bringing him to a hook.
You had ducked down almost completely to the wooden floor, the generator stirring near you. You were unaware you had been crying, your cheeks wet with tears. It took everything in you to stand and return to the generator, determined to complete it. And you did, with another being finished not too long after. But it had been too long since another had been completed and you knew that was never a good sign. The trial was going south.
As you stood shivering next to the locker in the shack, you tried to calm yourself. Tried to think of your next moves. You exhaled through your mouth, only just now beginning to accept the most likely outcome.
We're not gonna make it. These kinds of trials happen sometimes...we will be sacrificed.
You tried to think like Claudette and David and Bill...logic over emotion. But a soft cry slipped through your lips and your chin trembled. It never came easy to be sacrificed, even the most seasoned survivors still dreaded the awful feeling of your soul being feasted upon by The Entity. Many would even say it was worse than the physical pain caused by Killers.
"Psst, hey! Over here!" A voice whispered harshly.
You shot you gaze towards the voice at the entrance of the shack, your body relaxing a bit when you saw it was Nea.
"Nea?" You asked, a hand still pressed against the locker.
Nea crouched low as she entered into the shack, settling on her knees next to the generator located in its center.
"We're screwed. We're absolutely fucking cooked," she said, her teeth chattering.
You swallowed the lump in your throat as you watched her begin to pull the levers carefully on the generator, a deep gash on her upper arm.
Nea then spoke without turning to look at you, her voice filled with pain. "He got Feng Min...I...I saw it. She's one of the fastest of all of us, and he caught up to her like she was a snail. He cut her open like a fish...her insid-" Nea choked and clenched her jaw, trying not to cry.
Your eyes widened as you stared hard at Nea, your head twitching occasionally from the freezing cold.
"We can still make it. The two of us, it's been done before," you said unconvincingly, your voice barely audible.
Nea shook her head slowly as she remained fixated on the generator.
"No. Not with him," she said before bringing her fingers to her cheek, wiping her tears quickly and returning them to the generator.
You knew she was right. You remained standing for a few more seconds before walking up to the generator, kneeling in front of it. You stared blankly at its wires, your lips borderline blue as you shuddered from another bitter breeze. You lifted your hands idly to the generator, it's metal just as cold as your fingertips.
It had been so long since you had actually been sacrificed or killed. You were beyond thankful for it and new better not to dwell on it, for it was inevitable - survivors will get sacrificed. And though it may not happen for some time, it will happen again. And again. You were taught well by the survivors you had grown close with. They not only taught and continued to teach you skills but taught you how to deal with the truth of your reality.
Your eyes trailed over to Nea who was now crying quietly and it occurred to you just how young she really was. You wanted to comfort her the best way you knew how and you reached out to her arm, drawing her attention.
"Let me mend your wound," you whispered.
Nea looked at you with confusion.
"Its pointless, what does it matter...," she replied.
"Please," you said, cupping her elbow in your palm.
Nea blinked a few times before reluctantly letting go of the generator, allowing you take hold of her arm.
You were quick to reach for the bandages and gauze you carried with you. You got to work on the wound on her arm with great skill, it no longer taking more than a minute. You pressed your fingers against the bandage and smiled at her meekly before leaning back, pleased. Neas face was grim as she observed your patch work.
"Thank you," she murmured.
"You're Wel-"
You no longer could get the words out of your mouth before seeing a black blur emerge from the doorway. It was so unnaturally quick as it placed itself behind Nea, snatching her violently from the generator. You flinched more from her ear piercing scream than anything, falling back onto your bum.
Frozen in fear, you lifted your eyes up the familiar figure who stared down at you as he held Nea around her waist with one arm, her screaming and flailing her body like a mad woman.
"NO! Get off me!" She growled, her face bright red.
The Ghostface then brought his knife up to her neck, angling it's blade close to her flesh.
"Shh, shh, shh...it's alright, this will be quick," he cooed in her ear.
Nea stilled but she shook violently not from cold but from fear. She stared at you with pleading eyes as you remained on the floor, you being unable to move.
You felt the Ghostface was staring at you now as he held Nea tightly from behind and your eyes drifted to his voids, your eyes narrowed and your jaw tense.
Suddenly the Ghostface hoisted Nea up and over his shoulder effortlessly before spinning on his heels to leave the shack, Nea using every ounce of energy she could to pummel him with her fists while kicking and flailing.
Help her! I cant...I can't...
You willed your body to move, to get up off of the floor. It had been too long since you needed to find hatch and you struggled to remember the locations where it could appear. You stood to your feet with wobbly knees, finding it almost impossible to think. Part of you wanted to give in, to just accept your fate in this trial. But another part of you wanted to survive, even if it was to no avail.
You began to sprint out of the shack and towards the cabin, listening desperately for the unique sound of the hatch.
Please. Please...
You looked around frantically as you entered the large cabin, panicked noises caught in your throat. If you couldn't find the hatch then you would hide. You would make it as hard as possible for him. You knew it was a matter of time before he came looking for you and went to run towards the stairs that led to the second floor and wrap around balcony.
As you ran you nearly slipped from a large puddle, your stomach twisting in knots when you realized it was blood. You quickly ran upstairs but before you reached the top, your foot had caught on the top step and you slammed forward on the floor, flat on your face.
You groaned loudly as you went to roll over on your back, bringing your hands to your face. You touched your lip with your finger tips and pulled them away to see you were bleeding, the pain making its way up your nose and to your forehead. You let out a groan again as you sat up and rose to your feet, your hand covering your nose and lip. You glanced down both directions of the hallway and decided to head for one of the many rooms.
You slipped in one of the farther rooms from the stairs and quietly shut the door behind you, locking it. You glanced around the room for a place to hide realizing there wasn't many options other than under the bed, and you lowered yourself to the floor, sliding underneath it. You tried to prepare yourself the best you could, your breath shallow.
Your arms were tucked underneath you and you rested your forehead in your hands, doing everything in your power to be brave, to not make any sounds. Your heart suddenly dropped to your stomach at the sound of creaking floor boards in the distant, down the hall. The Ghostface was taking his time as he walked up the stairs, his boots obnoxious against the wood floor.
You closed your eyes and tried to think of your friends back at the campfire. How this will all be over soon and you will be nice and warm. You held your breath to listen and you heard him opening each door, searching each room.
"Clumsy, why don't you come on out. I'm not gonna hurt you." The Ghostface voice reverberated throughout the second floor, his voice sending icy chills down your spine.
You clenched your eyes shut as you pressed your forehead into your hands, wishing you could be absorbed by the floor. You heard him searching in the adjacent room, knowing yours was next. Your chest was tightening and you found it hard to breath at all as sweat gathered across your hairline and jaw. You abruptly froze at the sound of the Ghostface boots walking up to your door, him standing in front of it now.
Your eyes opened wide at the sound of him turning its handle back and forth, unable to remember the last time you were this afraid.
"I was going to let you go, you know. The last time I saw you...I have no desire to harm you," he said behind the door, his voice low.
Though you heard his words, they were not registering with you. You were too petrified and your heart felt like it was going to burst. There then was a brief moment of silence, your breath the only sound to be heard.
Suddenly the door seemed to explode as the Ghostface kicked it in with one crushing blow and you let out a scream, your hand pressed hard against your mouth now. Your bloodshot eyes drifted to the side as you watched him walk up to the bed. Your eyes widened in terror as you watched blood drip to the wooden floor from his knife, splashing on his boots.
The Ghostface then snickered. "You left a nice trail of bloody prints that led right to this room. What a mess..."
You realized then he had been toying with you, angry at yourself for being so careless.
"Please don't make me pull you out," he said calmly.
You couldn't move your body even if you wanted to.
The Ghostface then squatted on his heels, lowering himself to his hands and knees with a sigh, his knife clanking against the wood floor. You watched as he reached under the bed and took ahold of your upper arm, the leather of his glove creaking as he wrapped his fingers around it. You made all kinds of panicked and scared noises in protest, them being ignored.
His grip was tight around your arm as he slowly began to drag you out from underneath, you putting up no resistance. He dragged you to the center of the room, releasing his grip on your arm before standing to his full height. Once again you stared up at him as he observed you from above. Your eyes trailed down his blood soaked mask and cloak and you knew then he was one of the most brutal Killers you've ever faced.
"Stand up," he said suddenly.
Your eyes were round as you looked up at him, your mouth agape.
"Please...," he urged.
With trembling legs you rose to your feet, your hands shaking at your sides. Your eyes flicked to his knife in his hand.
You watched him as his head visibly scanned your body and you brought your arms to your waist, hugging yourself.
"How long have you had the pleasure of being in The Entity's world, playing Its game?" He asked sarcastically, before turning to place his knife on top of a dusty dresser.
You looked at him with uncertainty, blinking furiously as you tried to make sense of what was happening. Your mouth parted to speak but words failed you.
"Hm?" He asked while leaning forward a bit, turning his head to the side slightly.
Your breath was still so very loud and you began to feel lightheaded, doing everything in your power to remain standing.
"That's alright, you don't have to speak right now. I ask because I haven't seen you before, well, since the last trial we had together."
You couldn't beleive how casually he was talking to you, as if you two were long lost friends. You lowered your eyes to the floor from his impenetrable stare.
Suddenly he began to walk up to you, stopping right in front of you after only a few steps, your head being at his shoulders. Your heart lurched and you almost instinctively ran. Your breath picked up in pace again as your gaze remained lowered, bracing yourself for white hot pain of steel in flesh.
You flinched as he brought a hand to the side of your left arm, dragging it down to where he held your fingers gracefully. You audibly gulped as he lifted your fingers to his eyes turning your hand side to side thoughtfully, and you knew he was observing your burn marks again. Wet from his glove transferred to your skin and the metalic smell of blood made its way to your nose.
"Do they cover your entire left side?" He asked, almost innocently.
You pursed your lips together, your bottom lip bloodied. Your hand continued to tremble in his own and he returned his gaze to your eyes, lowering and releasing your hand from his. There was then the familiar warm sensation familiarizing itself with your body again, his marking. Your brows furrowed in confusion as it seemed to calm you, your trembling almost stopping completely.
"Can I see them?" He asked quietly.
You lifted your eyes to his black voids, feeling defeated. You understood now that he had taken a liking to you, him seemingly fascinated with your marks and how you were able to keep them. You were terrified, flashes of what happened to Felix flooding your mind. You then nodded faintly.
"Great...," he whispered, again more to himself.
You stood awkwardly unsure of what he wanted from you. Your arms swayed at your sides, thankful for the calmness his mark provided you. He stood staring expectantly at you before tilting his head to the side and you realized he wanted you to remove your shirt.
You exhaled quietly as you brought your fingertips to the top of your blouse, unbuttoning it. You couldn't understand how someone so savage could act how he was now. He watched patiently as your fingers reached the bottom button of your blouse, it splitting gracefully in the middle. You found a wave of heat flood to your cheeks, the palms of your hands pressed against the sides of your legs.
The Ghostface then removed both of his gloves and reached a hand to your waist, causing you to jump back a bit.
"I'm not going to hurt you," he said.
You realized it ultimately wouldn't matter if he was or not and you swallowed as you watched him push your blouse to the side with the back of his hand causing it to fall slighlty off your shoulder, revealing the entire left half of your torso. Your braw was snug around your breasts and your chest visibly rose up and down, your breaths steady.
You gasped as his fingers felt one of the burn marks on the side of your ribcage and he traced it down to where it wrapped around to your belly button. Goosebumps made their way up to your neck and you were mortified to find yourself thinking about how long it had been since you've been touched in such a way.
The Ghostface then raised his head to look at you again.
"How did this happen? What happened to you?" He asked.
There was a long pause and you briefly thought about telling him. But it was too personal, you only shared your story with one other survivor, Jake. You had decided you would never share with anyone else, especially a Killer. You turned your head to the side, avoiding his gaze completely now.
"Why won't you look at me?"
"Because there is nothing to look at," you blurted, surprising even yourself. It had been the first words you spoke to him. Despite being fearful you found yourself getting irritated, not understanding where this was going.
The Ghostface then removed his hand from your waist and lifted it to his mask. You turned your head to face him with hesitancy, afraid of what was going to happen. You watched as he lifted his mask up and off his face while simultaneously pushing the hood of his cloak back. Your lips parted slightly as you observed him. He was indeed human, his features a mix of masculine and feminine.
Your eyes met his own, their color a deep brown almost black. His eyelashes were thick and unfairly long, his hair was slightly disheveled, parts of it hanging in front of his eyes. Blood had found it's way under his mask and speckled over his jaw and chin. You cursed yourself internally for finding him attractive. He gazed at you with what seemed like admiration.
"Whats your name?" His tone, warm.
You swallowed finding it hard to tear your eyes from his own, turning your head to the side once more.
"Looks like it's still Clumsy," he said smiling and you clenched your jaw, the name getting under your skin.
The Ghostface then let out an exasperated sigh, running his fingers through his hair before rolling his shoulders and cracking his neck. There was a moment of silence before he spoke again.
"I'm Danny. I wonder how long I will have to wait until I hear it slip from your lips," his tone, suggestive and bold.
You turned to face him again, your eyebrows raised and your cheeks bright red. Danny chuckled at your reaction before bringing a hand to your chin, carefully tucking a knuckle underneath it. He lifted your chin gently and you stared at him doe-eyed as he brushed his thumb over the cut on your lip.