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hadesrise · 1 month ago

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murder for you, baby !!

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 ➾ a justifiable serial killer on the loose, and jason finds himself being enamoured by him.

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 ➾ jason todd x dbd!ghostface!male reader

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 ➾ nsfw content, serial killer themes, dead dove do not eat, sexual arousal in response to violence or torture, murder, blood, deaths, gore, foul language, bottom!jason, top!reader, reader’s physique is described as tall and broad ( the slasher build ), possessiveness, choking, praise kink, blood kink, knife play ( reader carving his initials on jason ), toxic!reader ( ? ), sorta toxic relationship but also not, unprotected sex, love-making, pet names, overstimulation, dumbification, degradation if you squint, lil’ bit of manipulation, creampie, doggy style, mating press, biting, marking, oral ( r. receiving ), voice kink ( ? )

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫’𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 ➾ not me coming back with halloween themed fic after halloween days have passed lol. i’m alive, y’all !! hope you enjoy this one that took a fucking month to write 😭

𝐃𝐀𝐑𝐊 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓 ; this post may contain disturbing contents that may not be suitable for every reader — a reader discretion is advised. MINORS DNI.

Gotham’s been terrorized by the worst people you could ever imagine, the kind that’ll stick with you forever and take residence to your nightmares if you were unfortunate enough. Many were hurt or even murdered as a result of the villains’ terrorization, with vigilantes running through the night to capture and send them to Arkham Asylum.

With the existence of a Psychopathic Clown, his equally psychopathic girlfriend with PHD’s that’s been wasted down the line, the Mother Nature freak, the ridiculously huge man with a gas mask on, the green coloured living question mark, and many others, no one would’ve ever thought anything could get any worse.

Until some criminals’ bodies turn up across the streets in such disturbing manner that haunts the witnesses to death.

One, a criminal who murdered young and homeless boys, gutted deeply to the point of their intestines hanging out. Another, a criminal known for kidnapping and selling people’s organs, mutilated with their torso torn back to expose the organs settled inside of them. Another one, a priest-turned-criminal who’s been violating women and children, crucified naked in his own church with his eyes gouged out, a Bible verse carved in his chest; ‘And if your eye causes you to sin, gouge it out and throw it away.’ Matthew 18:9; his penis cut off and body seemingly violated as well. Another more turns up, a governor-turned-criminal who’s been feeding into the rich despite their oath of generosity towards the poor, severely tortured with the skin on his back cut open, ribs severed from the spine and broken to the sides in order to create the illusion of wings, fluttering lungs pulled out from their chest cavity to resemble an eagle’s wings, with the word ‘traitor’ carved on his forehead.

The brutality and gruesome nature of the murders has set an alarming panic and fear across Gotham City that forced civilians into locking their doors at night. Criminals who were unidentified and not found by Gotham Police Department were also turning up in a form of miserable, tortured soul, along with the evidence and proofs of their crimes being carelessly laid beside their lifeless corpse.

The killer taunts those who are in charge of justice within their city each time the damned were unfortunate enough to be hunted down; pigs of failure written in the criminal’s blood right beside the drawing of a police’s logo.

However, despite how gruesome and disturbing the murders were, most people couldn’t deny that it was doing the city a favor. Justice System has failed more times than one could count to the extent of victims yearning to exact revenge themselves against their perpetrator, which causes most to react rather positively to the wrongful, unlikely hero who had seem to suddenly appear out of nowhere. The haunted finally getting the chance to slay the traumatic demons with the help of another psychopath on the loose.

Another justified monstrosity shouldn’t be the counter against one inhumane monstrosity that caused so much pain, trauma, and misery. But kindness could not vanquish one’s tainted blood. Forgiveness could not suddenly wash away the sins engraved deeply into one’s soul.

Imperfect, the victims muttered. An imperfect yet perfect way to save our burning souls wrongfully condemned by the criminals.

Red Hood has heard their murmurs.

Silent whispers of gratitude that fell on deaf ears, their previously dim soul brightening in relief and sanctuary with smiles on their faces as the Universe had finally took mercy on them and sent a Fallen Angel to slay the Demons away. He’s watched their spirit uplift, no longer chained down by the trauma and fear of the monsters that once ruined their lives, able to walk the streets carefree of tormentors. He’s watched their stiff posture visibly loosen, lively peacefulness settling itself at last within their haunted eyes. He’s watched them glow with happiness not feeling the presence of their perpetrator every couple of seconds, finally capable of living without needing to constantly look over their shoulders in paranoia and fear.

Ghostface is what the serial killer’s called, nickname born out of the mask that resembled a ghost always being left behind in crime scenes, each slightly different.

Jason has seen you. He didn’t mean to, really.

The temptation to get at least one look at you was great every-time he patrolled, wishing to just catch glimpse of an immoral hero who could make sacrifices no actual heroes could — who’s doing exactly what he wished before for Batman to do.

The Universe seems to have granted his wishes when his eyes catches the void of ghostface’s eyes, your mask tainted in splatters of blood from the dead criminal below you. Jason feels his world come to a stop as you slowly rise from crouching position and reveal your unnaturally tall height, broad shoulders visible under the black hooded leather. You hold silence and calmness despite being caught, tilting your head slightly to the side.

His heartbeat quickens yet he doesn’t feel fear. Jason idiotically steps closer as if he was in a trance, burning your existence within his eyes to engrave in his memory. Your bloody knife barely grazes his neck to stop him before using it to tilt his chin up, your figure looming and towering over him while seemingly staring into his eyes through his helmet.

A sense of peacefulness overcomes Jason being in your presence despite the absolute brutality and mercilessness that surrounded your entire being. You were deadly, silent, certainly creative with your work that it deems almost artistic, as if the criminals’ bodies were your own canvas to paint on — and Jason finds solace in you. A man he always needed, someone who’d be willing to cross the line and get rid of the actual evil for the sake of victims that’d be forever haunted if it continues to exist.

“I’ve heard things about you, Red Hood.”

Low, raspy, monotone voice speaks, sending shivers down his spine. It sounds cool and handsome regardless of the obvious use of voice changer, somehow littered with tiniest hint of flirtatiousness.

It takes him quite a while to answer, barely managing to let out a “yeah?” as he feels you drag the knife slightly closer to his pulse. His heartbeat quickens, but slows down when the cold metal was finally pulled away.

“Pleasant things,” You hummed, before your voice lowered a few octaves, “Can’t say the same about Batman.” Anger seems to seep through your tone that felt a little more than just sympathy for victims of villains Batman refused to put six feet under. Jason wondered if you’re also one of the victims his father failed.

“You… You know him that much?” Jason’s voice shakes from the nerve, your presence somehow greatly affecting him.

“I think everyone knows him enough,” You chuckled, but it sounded so empty that Jason can’t help but feel the goosebumps rise on his skin. It was quite chilling to meet someone who shows only a certain amount of emotion which could even be felt expressionless due to the monotonous pitch. The ghostface mask certainly did its job of making you seem more less human, the unmoving expression of ghost being horrified to death adding to the eeriness of your toneless mechanic voice.

Jason’s breath hitched when you took one step closer.

“But I know more about you. Your little past and the sufferings you’ve endured,” It’s spoken as if his life was one of your necessary investigation in your twisted justice. “It’s unfair, don’t you think? I would’ve gutted the Joker like a fish if it were to happen to my son.” There’s a condescending way in which you spoke, not directed at Jason but to Bruce.

“How—” Jason swallowed. “How did you—”

“I can make your dreams come true,” You interrupted him with a tempting offer, shutting him up effectively. Wide grin plastered your face despite not being seen behind your mask. “I can kill the Clown for you, Red Hood. If it means it’ll silence your troubled spirit. If it’ll bring you peace. I can hurt him on your behalf just like he deserves.”

It was like a whisper from the devil, slithering its way into Jason’s heart and mind to possess his soul, mirroring the one which whispered on Adam and Eve’s ears.

He’s been wanting — needing — to hear those words come out of Bruce. His suffering and death seemingly being brushed off as a cruel accident shattered him more than he’d ever admit, Bruce’s unhealthy coping mechanism and morality getting in the way of showing his love for Jason that left the younger man feel lesser than he was. Bruce was a complex person that’s sometimes difficult to understand, his impressive ways to stick to his morals being exactly his character, but Jason wanted for once, to actually feel how important he was to his father.

Was that too much to ask for, or was he just unworthy of the entirety of it?

“Why would you do that for me?” Confusion and subtle suspicion filled his tone as Jason narrowed his eyes, trying to figure out your intention despite the rush of hope that shot throughout his chest. He forced himself to feel nothing when you leaned in closer.

“Because you were wronged, of course.” You simply stated. “You are a victim. Not more, not less. You deserve a little more than just empty justice. And I’m a man who got tired of vigilantes that are afraid to make sacrifices for the greater good.” Then, you tilt your head slightly to the side in a way that’s somehow alluring. “But I can also say I’m intrigued by you.”

Jason’s heartbeat quickens again when your big hand seems to wrap perfectly around his throat, fingers resting just above his pulse points. It makes such filthy thoughts flood themselves into his mind, your long and quite thick fingers falling victims to his tainted imagination, and he had to give everything in himself not to bare his throat more for you. You seem pleased of his lack of disobedience and bite, having expected him to shove your hand away or flinch back before you could touch him. You’ve seen Red Hood once and how his uncontrollable rage resulted in violence, heavy burdens and extreme trauma turning him into a ticking time bomb that could explode any minute with the wrong move. He was absolutely lethal, the bullets serving as the evidence of his wrath and resentment towards the underground scumbags. It’s amusing that you have the man of violence himself now somehow completely under your control, surprisingly quiet and shy and obedient. You wondered if this is how he was before he was ruined by the cruelty of the world.

“You want it, don’t you? For me to kill the Joker.”

Jason feels as if you know everything he wants. Is this what it feels like to be important?

It takes a little while for him to answer, but he eventually came up with a “You’ll do that?” which sounded vulnerable and weak for the first time in his second life. Your heart clenched at the doubt and seemingly child-like vulnerability in which he uttered the words, as if he was afraid to trust something after being betrayed countless of times, reminding you of the sole person you’ve even began doing all of this for. They were quite similar yet so different — your older brother and Jason.

You hadn’t meant to cross his boundaries and unknowingly step into the empty hole that made home in his heart. Unconsciously slithering in like a snake by touching the subject his heart was longing for, not realizing his childhood’s still remaining within his spirit.

All he wanted was love and to feel safe again. You didn’t know the Red Hood was so adorably pitiful. A smirk plastered your face.

“I will,” You reassured and leaned your face inches away from his, the hand on his throat lifting his helmet slightly.

Jason doesn’t retaliate, blinded by a meat of hope dangled in front of him. He doesn’t move as the lower half of his face was exposed, and you lifted your own mask the same using your other hand. Jason willingly, obediently closes his eyes before your lips attached to his — a kiss of death, tasting like blood and cruelty. Warm and soft despite your rough, cold-blooded, corrupted soul. A kiss from the devil.

When Jason opened his eyes, you had already disappeared into the darkness with blood stains on the ground you stood before, a single note left behind; Hell will reopen for the Clown.

After neatly tucking the note inside his jacket and making sure no evidence has been accidentally left on the crime scene, Red Hood smiles for the first time in a long while and reaches for the comms without a heavy heart.

“Batman, I found another body.”

Whatever happens, he’ll have no knowledge of the following misfortune that’ll befall on the Joker. It’s the righteous serial killer’s doing, after all.

What was used to be a maniacal laughter turned into screams of agony and pain. Strong stench of death and blood makes euphoria rush within your mind, the feeling of slicing through flesh with your knife bringing pleasure and ecstasy that made your pants tight. There’s a certain amount of satisfaction in the way your own actions cause serious harm and scarring to criminals who once deemed themselves powerful, being reduced into nothing but a powerless prey that could easily be gotten rid of.

You feel increasingly powerful the more you strip them of their dignity and arrogance as they shed blood on the holy ground. Your existence alone striking them with crippling fear and anxiety feeds into your ego, yet you never stray away from the sole purpose or reason for your murders — making them taste their own medicine.

From what you found on countless deep dive and research, Joker preyed on Red Hood when he was still a young child full of life and joy, having been under the name Robin at the time. Second Robin to be exact, considering he was a lot different from the first one. It actually surprisingly pained you when you’d seen how much of an adorable, dorky, nice kid he was before misfortune cut his life short. You would’ve never thought you would find a kid adorable in your entire life, the little menaces often being nothing more than a headache to be around with that caused a certain dislike to grow towards them within you, but Jason was everything a cute kid was. Just excited to be there, to be fighting alongside Batman, to be relevant.

Such a precious boy ruined for the sake of shits and giggles for the Clown. For the sake of getting under Batman’s skin. And the Bat couldn’t even make fucking amends to his flaws as a father and mentor.

Well, he didn’t need to anymore.

You’ll give Red Hood— Jason Todd —what he wants. Yearned for. Perhaps, even what the other civilians who have fallen victims to this vile criminal want. You would stop at nothing until every criminal is gurgling and choking on their own blood.

Joker’s scream shoots a jolt of electricity within your body as your knife pierce through his skinny thigh and to the ground, pinning his leg down. You had been doing an effective job of reducing the maniac into nothing but a screaming, cowering average victim by torture. Bruises, burns, gashes, and stab wounds littered his body that was done carefully enough to not be life-threatening. Fucker was laughing maniacally at first, of course. It irritated you so much that you might’ve went a little overboard.

Watching Joker heave and struggle to breathe from the pain, you tilted your head and roughly grabbed his throat. It catches him off guard and he grips your wrist, barely even having the strength to fight you off. You’re amused by the entirety of Joker’s nature, how he’s still just an average man that can easily be overpowered — nothing that makes him special enough to not be killed, becoming proof of Batman’s selfish willingness to let the victims suffer than bring them actual peace.

You’ve never uttered a word since you captured him and it unnerved Joker from the beginning, but then, words finally come out of your mouth in a form of monotonous, mechanical, emotionless, eerie voice as you lean over him; “Laugh it out, Joker. Why so serious?”

It sounded like a death sentence.

He’s right in a way, because another of your knife pierced the corner of his mouth soon as you uttered the words. Your other hand tightened on his arteries to choke him while you drag the knife to slit the side of his mouth into a grin, following the lines of his red lipstick. It was certainly not a clean cut, but an artist has their own creative ways to make their art. Tears mixed in with blood that gushes out of his face, complete horrors written across Joker’s eyes which boosts your satisfaction. You go on and do the same thing to the other side of his mouth, before finishing your art piece by carving ‘J’ on his painted cheek.

You resist the urge to moan at the sight of blood coating your fine piece, always finding it to be an amazing finishing touch.

From then on, Joker was brought to literal Hell.

Jason flinches when a playful knock sounded from his safe house’s window, cautiously approaching to see ghostface waving at him through the glass. His eyes widened and immediately opens the window to let you in, not wanting anyone to see you — your sudden appearance distracting him from the fact he’s never given anyone the location of his safe house.

He stops in track at the blood splatters across your mask, and just then had he noticed you seemed to be hiding something behind your back with one hand. It definitely strikes his curiosity, but he somehow didn’t feel like you were holding something that could harm him.

“You got something for me, ghostface?” Jason feels you grin under your mask.

“Got you a present,” Your raspy, rough voice enthusiastically quipped.

Jason’s breath hitches when you show what you were holding — the Joker’s decapitated head in a square glass container tainted by its blood. You obviously had planned to bring it barehand, but you considered the possibility of its blood dripping down on his safe house and becoming a false evidence to point him to the murder, which prompted you to put it inside the container. An unbelievably sweet gesture for a fucking psychopath like you.

Jason could feel his heart beat rapidly as he takes in the animal’s state, carved up grin and the letter J and the horrors seen in its lifeless eyes proving the absolute misery and suffering it went through before being put down. The monster was finally, finally slain and gone forever from his life. Nightmares detangles from his spirit and the past unwraps away from his soul, utter peace and relief spreading throughout his chest. Tears gathered in his eyes at the feeling of being free at last from the life long torment, breath shaking as his knees wobbled.

The child in himself, the innocent Robin that was killed unfairly, finally rests in peace.

Then he sees you, his hero, waving your seemingly new knife playfully in the air with your outfit splattered in blood without a care that you actually saved him, and Jason feels a sudden surge of arousal and will to submit. To give you everything, anything.

“Do you love it, Red Hood?”

Without answering you, Jason grabs the glass container with shaky hands and sets it aside on the counter before stepping back closer to you again, blood rushing to his veins from arousal. He removes his helmet with a thud on the floor and falls to his knees in front of you, lustful and yearning emerald eyes looking up at you.

“Let me thank you, please.”

It makes you groan as your pants significantly tightens more.

You slide your knife back into the holster before cupping his beautiful face in your hands, and thank fucking Heavens there wasn’t any blood on it that would taint his face, because he’s a sight to behold. He’s truly a gem, something precious you had never seen before. “So beautiful,” You whispered, making Jason flush. “Baring yourself to me for such a simple present, doll?”

“Not a simple present,” Jason mumbled as he snuggles on the palm of your hands. “You saved me.”

You hum appreciatively, getting the itch to bare yourself to him as well. “You wanna thank me by what?”

Jason looks back at you, face flushed with a little hint of uncertainty and embarrassment, doubts. “I— uhm,” He stammers, but encouraged by your thumb’s gentle stroke on his cheek. “By… by becoming yours.”

Your cock throbs. Fuck, he’s so fucking adorable, you just wanna fuck his guts out. You’re usually tempted to gut people, not fuck their guts— which is funny to say the least— but you weren’t going to say no when the Red Hood’s so willing to offer himself up.

“You wanna take my mask off, doll?” He seems surprised by your question as if he hadn’t thought of it, making you chuckle. “If you wanna be mine, I gotta be yours too, don’t I?” It was dangerous to reveal your identity to him, but you couldn’t care less, especially when you could just fuck his brains out to shut him up. That’s the plan, first time that didn’t include butchering or cutting a body up.

Jason fucking Todd and his effects on you.

The emerald eyed male hesitantly grasped your mask when you led his hands to it, slowly lifting it over your head. He’s met with a fucking luscious feature to ever be adorned on a man and dark, lustfully murderous blood red eyes that makes a whimper slip past his lips. You merely widened your eyes at the sound he made before immediately grabbing his jaw and smashing your lips against his, swallowing Jason’s surprised gasp.

He reciprocates the insatiable hunger you displayed, tongue dancing along with yours and moaning into the kiss when your fingers lightly tugged on his hair. You pull him up in amidst of making out and squeeze his ass, encouraging him to wrap his legs around your hips. You detach your lips from his to trail kisses down his jaw and neck as you walked towards his bedroom, questionably knowing where it is, and Jason tilts his head back to give you more access with closed eyes. Letting him stimulate both of your restrained cocks by grinding down, you sat down on the bed and sucked on his throat as Jason moaned.

“Please, please…” He whimpers, uncontrollably moving his hips in a perfect rhythm yet he seemed to want something else.

You pulled away and traced his lips with your thumb, watching as he naturally took it in and sucked, giving you a desperate look. Swiftly turning off the voice changer attached to your neck in a form of choker, you chuckled when his hands fiddled with the belt on your hooded coat. “So needy, aren’t you?” Your real voice sends shivers down his spine.

An alluring, low, slightly rough pitch and somehow more emotionless than when you were using the voice changer. It makes his cock twitch and empty hole clench down on nothing, the need to be stuffed full of your cum swarming in his belly. You’re fucking bewitching, a man made up from every guy and girl’s fantasy, wet dream, and your attractiveness mirroring the Devil’s that would tempt and lure others to sin.

How the fuck were you real?

“Speak up, pretty bird.” You smirked, “What do you want?”

“Your cock,” Jason mutters, cheeks tinted in pink. “Wanna suck your cock and make you feel good.”

“Fuck…” You shifted in place, “You’ll do that f’me? Get my cock nice and wet to take you apart? To fuck your guts out?”

Jason shakily inhales and nods, climbing off your lap and kneeling on the floor. You lean back on your hands as he unstraps your belt and slide your zipper down, slightly raising your hips to help him get rid of the excess clothes. Your thick and lengthy cock smacks against your clothed stomach, making Jason’s mouth water. Thick veins throbbed on your big shaft, the tip angry and red from arousal leaking precum. It wasn’t just big, it was long, and Jason squeezes his thighs together to keep himself from just riding your cock all day.

His hand wraps around the base, starting to stroke it with a content rhythm. God, you were so fucking big. It’d definitely split him open if you shove it in so suddenly and fill him up nice. It’d make him scream his head off from the unbearable length and girth, almost too much, and Jason wants you to force him to take it. Pin him down and fuck him despite his pleas to stop.

Jason swipes his thumb over the slit, smearing precum, pumping it for a good amount before licking a stripe up the underside of your cock. You shudder, removing your gloves to slip your bare fingers through Jason’s hair, encouraging him to take you in. He obeys, relaxing his throat first before sliding your cock inside his warm mouth, and you groaned at the warmth that surrounded you. It almost didn’t fit from how big you were, but Jason braced himself and took it in further until he gagged as the tip touched the back of his throat. Wrapping his hand around your shaft that he couldn’t take in, stroking gently as if to apologize.

A moan slips past your lips when he starts bobbing his head, tongue brushing against the underside of your dick. “Fuck… Doin’ so good,” You roll your head back. “Such a pretty face to fuck, ain’t ya?”

Jason whines, tears gathered in his eyes as he sucks and fastens his rhythm. Curses, grunts leave your lips that left him feeling all hot and bothered, his other hand moving to skillfully pull his pants down and free his aching cock.

You see him touching himself and a smirk adorns your sinful face, gently scratching his scalp with your nails which earned you a whimper from him. “Go on, fuck yourself. We both know it wouldn’t fit that easily without proper prep,” Expression twisting into a cocky one, your grip on his hair tightened. “I’ll do as I please with your mouth until you’re done.”

Without waiting for his approval, you roughly shoved your cock deep down his throat and moaned loudly, throwing your head back. Jason gagged with a loud whimper as his eyes rolled back into his skull and cum shot out from his throbbing cock, hips jutting forward and twitching due to the sudden orgasm. You chuckle lowly, amusement and lust glinting in your bright red eyes, before you pull back and ram on his throat again.

Jason’s cries and moans were muffled as you ruthlessly use his throat to gain pleasure. His mind has already turned into mush from your assaults, white cum and precum staining the floor yet he doesn’t put up a fight. Taking it all like the good, obedient boy that he is. He’s reached behind him to insert two fingers in his awaiting hole, walls clamping down on the digits from the arousal of his throat being utterly wrecked.

Yesyesyes, please. He chanted in his mind. Use me, mark me, cum in my throat, make me yours.

The moment you fulfilled your promise and delivered him the head of his enemy, he was already yours. It’s all he ever wanted. Unquenchable thirst that always gnawed on his throat and hunger that left his stomach restless, his soul practically teared in half from being battered and beaten. He matters now — mattered enough to you, that you went ahead and killed the source of his misery. The love exploding in his chest was almost unbearable; he was already high on cloud nine from the moment he’s seen you present the head so cheerfully.

You see how he looks up at you, emerald eyes almost displaying hearts with how much he was melting. He’s taken your murderous act as an affection, and you couldn’t be more happy, because it’s what you intended.

“Shit, baby… Gonna cum soon,” You panted, thrusting vigorously. Jason hums and flexes his throat to provide you more pleasure, making you tighten the grip on his hair. “You want me to cum down your throat?”

You earned a desperate whine from him, closing his eyes to prove he was waiting for it. His fingers kept their own assault on his prostate, scissoring and stretching the squishy walls, muffled moans escaping him.

God, he looked so fucking gorgeous. He’d look even more gorgeous with your dick ramming inside him.

Jason feels your big cock throb in his mouth and his fingers move more aggressively to pleasure himself, wanting to reach his high at the same time as you. Stimulating your tip with the back of his throat a few times, you moaned loudly with a curse when Jason slightly flicks his tongue over your sensitive underside, forcing an orgasm out of your body. White, thick, warm seeds spurt out from your slit to his awaiting throat as Jason whimpered in delight and shot another layer of cum on the wet stained floor, hips thrusting in the air.

He greedily swallows every drop that spilled down his mouth despite the euphoria making him feel dizzy as his body slightly trembles.

You chuckled, breathing heavily, pleased expression spread across your face. “Good boy. That was such a good throat-fuck.”

The raspy, sultry tone of your voice makes electricity and chills run through Jason’s spine as his walls clench down on his fingers, yearning to be filled. Jason certainly doesn’t have a womb — it’s anatomically impossible — yet he couldn’t help but feel like it’s there, waiting and aching to be fucked and bred. He needs your cum to be pushed so far inside him. Need to be marked entirely as yours inside and out. Need you to rearrange his guts, fuck his brains out, breed him full, then fuck your cum further back into him.

Jason pulled his fingers out, whimpering at the loss of contact, before looking back up at you with begging eyes. “Can you-?” His voice cracks as he swallows, “Take me apart, please. Make me yours, fuck, I wanna be yours.”

You noticed tears gathering in his eyes, as if being rejected of his want to be your possession would be an ultimate heartbreak in his life; a life-threatening, gnawing thorn in his heart that’ll tear him apart piece by piece and shredding his soul. Jason thinks he can’t live without becoming yours, his savior’s. He can’t live without the source of his safety, the man that fulfilled his silly little dream and sacrificed his own sanity for it.

It absolutely amuses you that he’s become so attached just because you’ve driven him away from harm’s way. A little dumb, but he was your little dumb doll.

You gently caress his face and Jason leans into your touch, making your lips curl upwards into a smile. “Of course, doll.”

It leads to Jason being pressed face first on the mattress as you rail him from behind, sinful and alluring noises leaving his lips stained in drool. Your name escapes him like a chanted prayer, hands gripping the sheets, electricity sparking within his mind that left him dumb and unable to think coherently.

“Fuh-fuck! mgh, ah- yes, oh my god—!” He cries out when you pulled almost entirely back and rammed your cock roughly into him, almost seeing stars in his vision.

The roughness in which you handled him, the perfect angle of your hips allowing you to force pleasure out of his body every-time you thrust, the way you push his back down on the mattress to make him arch more into your merciless tactic, leaves Jason absolutely delirious. You didn’t just fuck him good; you fucked him with absolute vigor and violence, occasionally biting strongly on his shoulder to draw blood, showcasing your natural instincts as a serial killer. He feels your big fucking dick throb and gets impossibly bigger inside him each time his blood seeps out the broken skin, and Jason’s head spins at how much it drove arousal in his core.

“Good fuckin’ sex toy,” You grunted, roughly slamming your hips against his and causing a sharp moan to erupt from Jason.

“B-big—! s’too big- fuck!” Jason whines, tears spilling endlessly down his cheeks.

You smirk as you feel your ego skyrocket at being able to reduce a rather muscular man into nothing but a whining, blabbering bitch. “Yeah? I do split you open, don’t I? But you love it since you’re such a fuckin’ slut.”

“oh- aghn! y-yours— hnngh! Your s-slut! No one else’s-!” He chokes out, desperately reaching for you behind him.

“So fuckin’ adorable,” You chuckled and grabbed his hand, pinning it back to the mattress as you hover over him. You seem to fit against each other perfectly well, your large and tall body able to encage him that left Jason’s stomach fluttering. He’s taken a lot liking of the fact you’re bigger than him, considering he’s never been the smaller one when he was with others. It gives him a sense of shelter.

“p-please— pleaseplease- oh! cum— fuck… cum in me again!” Jason blabbered.

You can’t help but comply to his request, fastening your pace and drilling more into him. Incoherent sentences spill from his drooling mouth when he feels your cock pulse within his walls that signified your soon release. There’s a purpose in which you thrust your hips now — more sharp and angled yet a little sloppy, aimed to brush against his prostate and make him feel utterly good.

“Shit… Cummin’, doll.” You grunted right in his ear before shoving him on the mattress by the back of his nape and slamming all the way down on his already gaping hole.

Jason nearly screams, voice cracking, as his orgasm hits like a strong tide of wave at the same time you spilled thick layer of white semen into his fucked out guts. You ride out your orgasm by thrusting slowly a few times as Jason’s body violently shakes from the aftershock. He subconsciously whines in annoyance when some of your previous cum seems to overflow and replaced by your recent one, bucking his hips as if to use your big cock as a plug to keep them all in. His belly felt full from how much you’ve been filling him with your seed yet it still didn’t feel enough. Jason wanted more; he knew you weren’t going full on him yet.

You swiftly turned him around on his back without pulling out and kissed him roughly. Jason mewls into the kiss when the position makes you push more deeper into him, his hands immediately clasping at the back of his thick thighs to pull them up and make it easier for you to fuck.

“My cute little thing,” You murmured against his lips and bit the skin to draw blood, Jason’s hole squeezing down on you from both the pain and pet name. He greedily whimpers your name, holding onto you for life and yearning for more of you despite already receiving what he wants.

It was so fucking adorable and arousing to see him desperate for not just you, but your entire being as well, willing to welcome such darkness with open arms and tearful smile. You weren’t really a desirable person; so many people have thrown themselves at you for your conventionally attractive features and masculine body type that swoons hundreds yet cower away in fear and speak of you in disgrace when shown the demons living inside of you. No one could seem to look past your murderous, cold-blooded psychopathy — some have attempted to, which only resulted in your darkness growing bigger when they break their own promises. You weren’t meant to be loved. Your destiny was written in the stars and the Gods have cursed you with eternity of living in loneliness and madness without cure. You were meant to be feared, a lonely and violent soul that couldn’t be tamed, your sole purpose of existence being a destroyer; nothing more or less.

Jason, however, seems indifferent to your fate.

Instead of running away in disgust and fear at your acts of violence around the city, he was seeking for you. He’s seen what you’ve done, what you could do without feeling remorse, what monsters lie beneath your existence — and still, he graciously opens his heart (and legs) for you. There’s love and desire within his eyes where distaste should be, touch so soft and warm it baptizes your tainted skin. You’re soaked in blood yet Jason takes his time with you to clean them up. Born with thorns yet he willingly prickles his fingers on them.

You’re a danger everywhere you go, but to him, you were home.

It makes your heart clench; he’s broken the Gods curse and it costs him his freedom, because now he’s caught up in your webs. You wouldn’t let him go, like a snake that’s wrapped itself around its prey in a death grip.

Jason wanted to be yours. What better ways to fulfill his wish if not possessing his body, soul, and spirit?

“Sweet dumb thing,” You purred, hips thrusting slow and sensual, unable to forgive parts of his walls that weren’t touched by your cum. “Mine to fuck, ruin, or make love to. That’s right, yeah?”

Jason nods, moaning softly. Your hands now replaced where his were on the back of his thighs, bending him almost in half as you roll your hips to gently brush against every weak spot he has. The sudden shift in rhythm and atmosphere confuses Jason for a bit, his fogged mind unable to comprehend the situation at hand, but the intimacy strikes a further pleasure that was nearly mind-breaking. He’s been reduced to a moaning mess, blood, sweat, tears and cum coating his body.

“p-please,” Jason keened, like it felt agonizing to be loved ever so gently. “I— ah… I want- I want you,” He stuttered out between moans.

“You’re having me, aren’t you?” Replying, you nipped on his neck and sucked, leaving behind a purple bruise.

He nearly cries, shaking his head. A waterfall of tears streamed down his face, and you find yourself captivated by them. It was almost ethereal despite being one of human’s responses to most things imaginable; your victims always shed one or two accompanied by begs of mercy, but all you’ve ever thought of them was amusing. It’s been used as an escaping tactic from you before, which was never successful due to your lack of morality and sympathy towards your target. They were pathetic, but Jason was divine. Tears suited him— not tears of fear, but tears of pleasure and utopia.

Your focus snaps back on reality when Jason suddenly pulled you down by the nape and bit down hard on your shoulder. A pleasured groan leaves your lips at the pain, hips bucking, making him whimper.

“Jason—”

“Please,” He cuts you off and finally murmurs; “Wanna f-feel how… mhm-! how you actually love…”

It strikes something in your core. Despite your perfect skills of hiding your true nature and never being caught, Jason saw it right through you, how you were holding yourself back for his sake. Quite ironic to witness a cold-blooded killer care for someone enough to go soft, even though it looked like you were going rough on him, and it warmed Jason’s heart. But he was a greedy, fucked up human being who wanted all of you. It wouldn’t be enough until he knows he’s taken you fully.

An amused laughter erupts from your chest. Eyes darkening in lust, Jason feels one of your hands wrap around his throat warningly as the other pushed his torso flat down on the mattress. “You… You’ll be the fuckin’ death of me, Todd.”

You pull all the way back before ramming in, making Jason let out a loud, choked up moan as his eyes rolled back into his head. Your thrusts relentless and powerful, slamming against Jason’s body with an intensity that made his head spin, your hand holding his throat as a leverage. Your name spills from his lips like a prayer, something that seems to ignite a possessive feeling within you. Jason can’t help but mewl when your grip tightened on his arteries, throwing his head back to let you gain fully control.

The way he’s so obedient and putty in your hands despite knowing you can kill him if you truly meant to makes you love him even more, fucking him and taking away his ability to breathe wasn’t enough. Greediness turning overboard with the darkness and psychopathy that lies within your existence; you almost wanted to cut him open and crawl inside his guts so you could truly claim Jason, inside and out. You wanted to be more closer to him, see how far you can go without Jason pushing you away or getting disturbed.

Jason’s eyes widened when a cold metallic silver touched his cheek, seeing you holding your signature knife through blurred vision from his tears. However, he doesn’t flinch away like you expected him to, instead his walls squeezes down on your cock and his own twitched against his stomach. The unexpected reaction pulls a loud groan out of you, your hips bucking.

“Shit, Jay… You lettin’ me kill you or somethin’? Good fucking cunt just tightened on me,” You rasped, thrusting your cock against his prostate.

Jason gasps, his hands grabbing the mattress and holding it in a tight grip. It’s so shameful how turned on he was at the danger that lurked around you, his usually sharp instincts relinquished to be replaced by naiveté and stupidity for love. He must’ve gone insane; getting killed was one of his triggers because of his past yet his soul yielded nothing in retaliation to the possibility of your blade slicing through him. All of him seems to have come to love and trust you too much just because you’ve decapitated the beast his entire existence feared, which a part of him found utterly ridiculous and idiotic, but not enough to stop.

He wouldn’t stop himself from loving you — not when you’ve given him the love he always yearned for.

You lean in and ghost your lips over his as you dragged the knife on his torso, lightly scraping him. Jason’s breath quickens, his pupils blown wide in lust and need, anticipation seemingly running through his body as his moans turned into desperate whines.

“p-please…!” He chokes out a whisper, rolling his head to the side and whimpering when you snapped your hips warningly on his. “feels— fuck! feels g-good—! c-carve me… hngh! carve me u-up-! shit… make me fuckin’ bleed…! please,” Jason nearly cries for you.

Groaning out a curse, you reflexively bite down hard on the crook of his neck and push more of your cock inside him, causing a loud keen to erupt from Jason as he squirms and cums on his own stomach at the addictive sense of pleasure and pain shooting through his body.

You licked the blood that seeped out from his skin, satisfied at the clear bite mark you’ve left visible before sensually grinding your hips. Jason whimpered quietly, his body still trembling from the aftershocks of his orgasm.

“That’s it, doll. Let go, feel good. m’not gonna hurt ya, sweetheart. It’ll all feel good,” Whispering sweet words, you slowly press the tip of the knife just above the v line of his hip and drag it down. Jason hissed at the prickle of pain and tensed up, but the pleasure of your cock stimulating his sensitive walls was too great that forced him to relax. “It’s alright, doll. Jus’ carving you up with my name, so you’ll be mine forever. Isn’t that what you want? Be fuckin’ mine?”

Jason moaned softly, nodding his head. Series of pleasepleaseplease blabber out of him accompanied by heavenly noises he’s been making since you started taking him apart, his brain too fucked out that forcibly twisted pain into pleasure as all he could think about was becoming yours. You, his savior, his God, claiming him by marking him up with your name. Jason feels like he could fucking squirt from just that thought alone.

His blood seeping out from the letters of your name arouses you to no end, your cock throbbing inside him while you continue to move, the darkness within you being thoroughly fed of its bloodthirsty hunger. This is the first time it doesn’t gnaw at your skin to drive your knife deeper, pull the guts out, and splatter redness everywhere; instead, it wanted to be gentle, as if Jason was a significant existence too precious to hurt even for the Devil. A proof that Jason was always meant to be yours, the only one who the monster inside you would rather love than kill.

Carving the last letter, you laughed breathlessly in satisfaction and stabbed the knife on the headboard before slamming your lips against his, devouring his pleasurable noises. Jason whines, arms wrapping around your neck to pull you impossibly closer, arching his back when you switched into a much faster and rougher pace.

“Cummin’, fuck!” You grunted, to which Jason wrapped his legs around your hips to make sure it stays in.

“I-in— in me… fuck- oh my god— please… please, cum in me. Make me full again, p-please…” He begs, clenching his walls around you to push you over the edge, his own orgasm nearing.

Seeing him covered in his own tears, sweat, blood and drool fills you with nothing but pure ecstasy knowing it’s all because of you. The most appealing, ravishing man being a slutty mess right beneath you, begging to be bred and full of your cum, does feed too much into your ego. No one can do anything to take you away from him now, because you’re wrapped around his fingers as much as he is around yours.

“Anythin’ for ya, doll.” You chuckled, thrusting a couple more times before shoving your twitching cock deep into his guts with a moan and releasing your load. Jason mewls, his hole throbbing and squeezing down on you as he throws his head back, tainting his abdomen once more.

Riding out both of your highs, you let out a raspy groan and kissed his lips again, Jason weakly reciprocating due to the overstimulation. His body trembled hard, mind almost shutting down from the exhaustion and too much euphoria. “So good, doll. Took me like a good fuckin’ boy. Fuckin’ amazing.” You praised.

Jason could still see darkness in your eyes, the murderous devil, but there’s a hint of happiness he didn’t recognize before. Love and adoration filled your expression despite the violence engraved in your soul, and Jason finds himself smiling against your lips lightheadedly.

He whispers your name like a forbidden secret, then a curse that completely binds you to him; “I love you.”

You could get used to this, you suppose. There’s nothing more poetic than violence meeting love — two opposites can’t coexist with each other, but perhaps it’ll be forced to. After all, the Devil in you decided he was an untouchable divinity no one shall ever harm, not even yourself, despite its never-ending monstrosity towards humanity.

“I love you too, my Jason.”

When Joker’s decapitated head on a makeshift spear turned up that night, stacked upright in front of Arkham Asylum with blood splattered across the ground in words ‘True Justice for the Tortured Souls’ and a bloody ghostface mask laid aside for everyone else to see, Jason knew he was now in safe hands.

People say, never make a deal with the devil.

They never said he couldn’t love one, did they?

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elikajinnie · 14 days ago

Text

Every Move You Make, I See It - P.J

P: Dead By Daylight Killer!Jay X Survivor!Reader (recommended age 17+)

Warnings: Murder, Death, Stalking, Predator/Prey, Blood/Injury, Obsession, Suggestive Content, Feral Behaviour, Psychological Thriller, Graphic Descriptions, the endings a bit fucked up.

Synopsis: The Entity's favored killers are violent, but a new hunter has arrived—and it’s fixated on you. Man or beast, no one can tell. All you know is: you’re being hunted.

a/n: did heeseung, sooo why not jay as well? interested in heeseungs? -> heeseung

disclaimer! all the killers and survivors in this is in dbd the game. I do not own any of them. the idea of jay was a creative endeavour. for educational purposes: mori means killing and it takes two hits in the game before you are downed. And to avoid confusion: when he`s running, his weapon is on his back.

now playing: rock you like a hurricane -2011 by scorpions | daydream by enhypen | chase it by set it off

You hated the killers who weren't human or weren't human before they ended up in the Entity's realm. The Xenomorph, the Unknown, the Singularity, the Dredge, Nemesis, Pyramid Head (you weren't really sure about that one), and the Demogorgon—all of them were violent, sparing no survivors, relentless, and merciless. Anytime you found yourself in a trial and they were the killer, annoyance simmered within you because you knew the round would be painful.

Then there were the other killers who weren't human anymore, like the Hag, Freddy Krueger, the Blight, Pinhead and Chucky. You were kind of relieved when the new killer, the Houndmaster, turned out to be more humane—well, unlike her dog, but that didn’t matter.

So when the survivors of the latest trial came back and announced they had just gone up against a new killer, you didn’t think much of it. New killers weren’t exactly rare, and the Entity loved throwing curveballs your way. But then they said something that made the room pause.

“I’m not sure if it was a man or a beast. It looked… human, but it also moved like a wolf.”

Jake, sitting across the campfire with a brow quirked, asked the obvious question. “Like a werewolf?”

You groaned, dragging a hand down your face. Great. A creature killer. The worst kind.

“Are you serious?” you muttered, glaring at Nea as if this was somehow her fault. “So, what? We’re dealing with something that bites again!?”

Nea shrugged helplessly, her face still pale from the trial. “It howled. Loud. I swear I heard it from across the map, and… it was hunting me. Not chasing, hunting.”

That word made something twist in your gut—uncomfortable, sharp. You hated the killers who acted like monsters, but the ones who actually were monsters? They were a nightmare. There was no bargaining with them, no understanding their patterns, no telling yourself they were just people corrupted by the Entity. Killers like the Demogorgon didn’t stop. Didn’t waver. Didn’t quit.

Now, apparently, this new killer—a wolf, a man, something in between—was joining that list.

Jake, always too curious for his own good, looked over at you. “What do you think its power is?”

“I think I don’t care,” you shot back, sharper than you intended. “It’s probably something that’ll tear you apart limb by limb, Jake.”

They looked at you for a moment, your irritation lingering in the air, before turning to the others to explain.

“We’re calling it The Beast,” Nea said, voice low, as though speaking the name might summon it. “It manipulates the map, and it hunts with precision. I swear it knew where I was the entire time.”

A chill crept up your spine, but you crossed your arms tightly, trying not to let it show.

“It had wolf attributes,” she continued, glancing around at the rest of you. “Fangs. Claws. The whole package.” She hesitated before adding, “It’s fast, too. Faster than most killers I’ve seen. The way it moves… it doesn’t just chase. It stalks, like Myers and Ghostface. But it’s worse.”

“How can it be worse?” Lara muttered.

Cheryl swallowed. “Because it runs on all fours. One second you see it watching from a distance, and the next, it’s charging you—low to the ground, like an actual wolf.”

Your jaw clenched as you listened, the mental image piecing itself together in your mind. A hulking figure with glowing eyes, tearing through the map with unnatural speed. It wasn’t just a killer anymore; it was something primal. Something built to hunt.

“Great,” you muttered under your breath, looking away toward the shadows beyond the firelight. “Another killer that moves faster than us. Just what we needed.”

Feng, ever the optimist, tried to make light of it. “Well, maybe it’s like Huntress. You know—scary but manageable.”

“Manageable?” You shot her a look. “Did you not hear what they just said? It stalks. It runs like an animal. If it’s anything like Huntress, I’ll eat my boots.”

“I’m just saying,” she replied defensively, but you weren’t listening anymore.

Nea`s words echoed in your head: It knew where I was. That wasn’t normal. Killers had their tricks—perks, instinctual guesses—but this? This sounded like something worse. Like an instinct that couldn’t be evaded.

“So, what did you guys do?” Ada asked them. “Did you escape?”

They all looked at each other, and their expressions turned grim. “We didn’t.”

The group went quiet, everyone processing the meaning behind those words. You exhaled sharply through your nose and leaned forward, staring into the flames. Another killer to outwit, another trial that would leave you with scraped knees and shallow breaths if you were lucky.

But as much as you hated the creature killers—the ones who weren’t human anymore—you couldn’t deny the shiver of unease curling at the edge of your thoughts.

If The Beast hunted like a wolf, what did that make you? Prey.

It didn’t take long before you were face-to-face with The Beast. Three trials. Three exhausting rounds of barely escaping hooks and killers that felt almost predictable in comparison. You should’ve known your luck wouldn’t hold out forever.

The moment you entered the trial, you knew something was different. The forest was unfamiliar—not the usual suffocating realm of the Red Forest or Mother’s Dwelling. This was something worse. The trees were taller, their branches clawing at the sky like skeletal fingers. The underbrush was thick with sharp brambles, and the fog was heavier than you’d ever seen, curling around your ankles like it was alive.

You huffed quietly as you adjusted the toolbox in your hands, crouching low as you moved forward. The leaves crunched softly beneath your boots, and your eyes flickered upward every time you passed a crow perched on a twisted branch. You weren’t about to let those bastards give you away.

Stick to the shadows. Avoid open paths. Survive.

But just as you turned a corner around a massive log, you froze. A distant shout cut through the silence, sharp and panicked. Then came a sound you weren’t expecting: bells. Not the sharp, haunting toll of the Wraith—no, this was something different. Rhythmic and unnerving, like chimes carried by the wind.

Without thinking, you bolted in the direction of the noise. Branches whipped against your arms and face as you ran, your heart pounding in your ears. The toolbox rattled in your grip, but you didn’t dare stop. When you burst through a thicket of thorny bushes, you saw her—Sable.

She was on the ground, her leg caught in a snare trap. But this wasn’t a normal trap. It wasn’t the crude, rusty bear traps you’d seen with the Trapper. No—this snare trap was made of barbed wire, coiled tight around her calf, digging into the skin. Blood dripped from the cuts, staining the ground beneath her, and her face was twisted in agony.

“Sable!” you hissed, dropping to your knees beside her.

“It—it’s a trap,” she whimpered, trying to pull her leg free. The movement only made the wire dig deeper. “It came out of nowhere. I didn’t even see it.”

“Stop moving,” you snapped, fumbling with the wire as you set the toolbox down. Your fingers trembled as you worked, trying to pry the barbed loops apart without hurting her more. The sharp metal bit into your hands, and you hissed through gritted teeth as you felt blood well up along your palms.

Keep going, you told yourself. Ignore it.

The bells rang again—closer this time. You stiffened, head snapping up as your eyes darted around the clearing. The forest was too dark, the fog too thick. You couldn’t see anything, but you could feel it.

Something was watching you.

“Hurry,” Sable whispered, panic creeping into her voice. “It’s coming. I know it’s coming.”

You didn’t need to be told twice. With one last twist, the wire gave way, and you yanked it off her leg. Sable gasped, clutching her bleeding calf, but there was no time to stop and tend to it. You grabbed her arm, pulling her up as gently as you could.

“Can you run?” you asked urgently.

She nodded shakily, wincing. “Yeah. I think so.”

The bells tolled again, louder this time—low and hollow, like they were reverberating through the earth. You felt the hair on the back of your neck stand up as the sound was followed by something worse: a low, guttural growl.

You didn’t look back. You couldn’t.

“Move,” you ordered, shoving Sable forward as you both started running.

You didn’t get far before you heard it—a sound you’d only heard described before, but never experienced yourself. The heavy thud of something large hitting the ground, followed by the unmistakable sound of claws digging into soil.

It wasn’t chasing you. It was hunting you.

The Beast had found its prey.

You and Sable made the mistake of turning around as you ran—and the sight froze your blood.

The Beast stood at the edge of the clearing, partially shrouded in shadow and fog, but you could see enough.

It was a tall man—if you could even call him that anymore. His frame was draped in black, torn clothes, a cloak of thick fur resting over his shoulders, matted and dark with grime. In his right hand, he held a glaive, its curved blade coated with blood, the metal glinting faintly in the low light. But it was his body that made your stomach twist.

His left arm was no longer human. It was covered in coarse black fur, stretched unnaturally over muscle and ending in claws that could shred through bone. The same grotesque transformation had overtaken his legs, fur and sinew wrapped around animalistic joints.

But it was his face that rooted you in place.

Black hair hung wild and untamed around sharp, angular features. His yellow eyes burned like embers in the darkness, fixed unrelentingly on you and Sable. And when he parted his lips, fangs appeared. He didn’t speak. He didn’t need to.

Cause then he tilted his head back—and howled.

The sound was deafening, ripping through the trees and echoing in the fog. It wasn’t a human scream, nor was it the howl of an animal. It was something in between, guttural and monstrous, vibrating deep in your chest like a death knell.

Sable gasped sharply, stumbling against you as her hands flew to her ears. “Go! Go!” she screamed.

You didn’t need to be told twice. The Beast lowered his gaze, his lips pulling back into a feral snarl, and then he moved.

It was almost too fast to process. One moment he was standing still, his claws flexing—then he dropped to all fours and charged.

You ran harder than you ever had before, pulling Sable with you as the sound of claws and snapping branches grew louder behind you. Your lungs burned, your legs ached, but you didn’t dare slow down. Each thud of his movement felt like a countdown, and you knew if he caught you, it was over.

Don’t stop. Don’t look back.

But even as you sprinted through the forest, weaving between trees and leaping over roots, you could still hear him. The low growl, the heavy breath. He was toying with you—getting closer, letting you hear him hunt.

“Split up!” you shouted to Sable, shoving her forward as the two of you reached a fork in the path. She hesitated for a split second, fear painted across her face, but she nodded and darted left while you veered right.

It wasn’t long before you realized he had made his choice too.

The sounds of his pursuit didn’t fade into the distance. The thundering steps—furred limbs pounding against the earth—stayed close. Too close. You risked a glance over your shoulder and cursed under your breath. He was coming for you.

“Of course you’re following me!” you hissed through gritted teeth, adrenaline flooding your system. Your legs burned with effort, each step feeling heavier than the last.

Up ahead, salvation presented itself in the form of a wooden pallet propped precariously between two crates. A quick escape. You angled toward it, lungs screaming for air, and forced yourself to move faster. You could hear him gaining on you, his growl vibrating through the air like a warning.

As soon as you reached the pallet, you grabbed the edge and slammed it down with all your strength. The wood crashed onto the ground, kicking up dust, and you whipped around, a shaky smile breaking across your face as you realized you’d timed it perfectly.

You’d stunned him.

The Beast halted mid-pursuit, the heavy pallet pinning him momentarily. His claws curled against the wood, his lips pulling back in a feral snarl. You allowed yourself a triumphant exhale—until his eyes snapped up to meet yours.

Your blood ran cold.

His eyes were no longer yellow. They were crimson—deep and glowing, like freshly spilled blood. The shift was immediate, like something inside him had awakened. The low growl that rumbled from his chest sent shivers down your spine, and for the first time, you noticed something you’d missed before.

The collar.

Thick and black, it wrapped around his neck like a cruel shackle. And on the front—glinting faintly in the dim light—were small silver bells. The bells. That’s where the sound had come from. Every movement, every step, was punctuated by that unnerving chime.

Your breath hitched as realization struck. The bells weren’t just for sound. They were a warning.

“Shit,” you whispered, backing up instinctively.

He growled again, louder this time, the sound vibrating through your chest. Then, in a blur of motion, he brought his clawed arm down on the pallet with enough force to shatter it. Wood splintered and exploded outward, shards clattering against the ground as the remains of your so-called “safety” crumbled at his feet.

You didn’t wait to see what he would do next. You turned and ran.

Your heart pounded in your ears as you darted through the underbrush, branches snapping and whipping against your face. Behind you, you could hear him—close enough that you swore you could feel his breath against the back of your neck.

You didn’t make it far before you felt it.

The whoosh of air as something massive swung toward you. A sharp, burning pain exploded across your back, and you screamed as claws tore through your shirt and raked deep into your skin. The impact sent you stumbling forward, your legs nearly giving out from the shock, but you pushed through it.

Move. Don’t stop. Don’t look back.

Gritting your teeth through the pain, you spotted salvation up ahead: a small, rotting building with a open window. You sprinted toward it, ignoring the sticky warmth of blood seeping through your clothes.

As you reached the window, you grabbed the frame and vaulted over with everything you had, landing hard on the floor inside. The room was dim, filled with scattered debris, the smell of mold heavy in the air.

You turned, panting, your hand pressing instinctively against the wound on your back. Your heart sank when you saw him.

The Beast was already leaping after you.

His massive form vaulted the window with terrifying ease, the bells on his collar jingling faintly as he landed. His crimson eyes—still glowing like coals—locked onto you and didn’t waver. He wasn’t looking around. He wasn’t searching. He was focused, utterly and completely.

“Oh, come on,” you groaned, stumbling backward. “That’s gotta be a perk.”

It had to be. You’d seen this kind of precision before—Killers who always seemed to know where you were, whether it was through a heartbeat, scratch marks, or some cruel Entity-given power. But this? Those eyes were more than just for show. They were locked onto you like a heat-seeking missile.

There was no time to think.

You bolted for the door on the far side of the room, practically throwing yourself through it. You could hear him behind you, his footsteps heavy but fast, the sound of claws scraping against the wood.

As soon as you were outside, you didn’t stop—you started looping the building. It was a classic move, one every survivor knew by instinct. Buildings meant walls, walls meant obstacles, and obstacles meant a chance to survive.

You rounded the first corner, adrenaline surging through your veins. The pounding of his pursuit was right behind you, relentless. You glanced back just in time to see him skid around the corner, his glaive dragging through the dirt with a metallic scrape.

Keep moving.

The building’s loop wasn’t perfect, but it was enough to give you a sliver of breathing room. Every time you turned a corner or ducked through an opening, you’d gain a precious half-second before the sound of claws and bells filled the air again, signaling that he was still there. Still chasing.

You risked a quick glance behind you, just once, and instantly regretted it.

His red eyes were still locked onto you. Even as you looped him, even as you vaulted and sprinted, he hadn’t faltered. If anything, he looked… determined. Like the hunt was enjoyable.

“God, I hate creature Killers,” you growled under your breath as you rounded the building again, already trying to think of your next move.

You couldn’t loop forever. He was too fast, too precise. And worse, the burn of the slashes on your back was starting to slow you down. You needed a plan—and fast.

It wasn’t hard for him to catch up.

You’d pushed your body to the brink, but it wasn’t enough. Before you could make another desperate turn around the building, you felt the glaive swipe across your legs with brutal precision. Pain shot through you as your knees buckled, and you collapsed onto the ground with a groan.

Dust and dirt kicked up around you as you hit the earth hard. For a moment, you just lay there, dazed, trying to breathe through the pain. Your ears rang, your body felt heavy, but instinct kicked in—you had to move.

With trembling arms, you started crawling. You didn’t know where you were going, but anywhere was better than staying there.

Don’t stop, you thought, dragging yourself forward inch by inch. Your blood left a streak in the dirt as you moved, but it didn’t matter. You had to—

A shadow loomed over you.

You froze, your head snapping to the side as you caught sight of it—a massive, bloodied paw. It dug into the earth by your face, the claws curling into the dirt with a sickening scrape. They were long, black, and sharp enough to skewer you where you lay.

You turned onto your back with a shaky gasp, dread settling deep in your chest as you looked up—and up.

The Beast stood over you, towering and monstrous, his hulking form casting you in shadow. Up close, the details were even worse. Sharp jaw. Unnaturally long fangs, his nose perfectly straight but twitching faintly, as if he was smelling you. The red glow of his eyes had narrowed into thin slits, like a predator zeroing in on its prey. Drool hung from his parted mouth, dripping down to the dirt next to you.

You couldn’t move. You couldn’t breathe.

Your gasp caught in your throat when he leaned down.

Closer.

The world seemed to slow as he brought his face near yours, so close you could feel the heat of his breath. It fanned across your skin, hot and heavy, as though he was tasting the air around you. Then he inhaled—a long, deliberate breath that sent a shiver down your spine.

Somewhere deep in his chest, you heard it. A rumble. Low and resonant, like a growl—but there was something else in it. Something almost… pleased.

Your heart hammered in your chest as you stared up at him, wide-eyed, unable to look away.

Finally, he pulled back, just far enough for you to see the edges of his sharp grin. His lips curled as his gaze remained locked onto yours, and when he spoke, his voice rolled out in a deep, guttural tone—one that sounded as though it hadn’t been used in years.

“You… run well.”

The words hit you like a physical blow, your mind reeling. His voice was gravelly, rough around the edges, yet disturbingly clear. There was something undeniably human in the way he spoke—twisted and broken, but human all the same.

You blinked up at him, your throat dry, unable to form a response.

The Beast tilted his head slightly, his crimson eyes narrowing. “But you’re slow now.”

The way he said it—it wasn’t mocking. It was observational, like he was analyzing you, trying to figure you out. He crouched lower, his furred claws pressing deeper into the dirt, his bells jingling faintly with the movement.

You flinched as his glaive scraped against the ground beside you, the noise grating against your ears.

“What are you?” you croaked, your voice barely audible, trembling as the question left your lips.

The Beast’s grin widened, and the crimson glow in his eyes seemed to burn brighter.

“Hunter.”

And with that one word, he reached down. The moment his clawed hand wrapped around you, you knew what was coming.

“No, no!” you gasped, but it didn’t matter. With an unsettling ease, the Beast picked you up as though you weighed nothing and slung you over his shoulder. His grip was firm—too firm—and you felt the sharp edges of his claws pressing into your side, a silent warning not to squirm too much.

Like hell that was going to stop you.

You immediately started wiggling in his hold, kicking your legs and twisting your upper body, desperate to break free. You’d done this before—countless times. It was second nature to fight, to struggle, to buy yourself just a few more precious seconds. But this time, it was different.

Your movements barely fazed him.

The Beast huffed out a low growl, annoyed more than anything, like you were nothing more than a mild inconvenience. His bells chimed softly with every heavy step, each sound growing closer and closer to dread.

“Let go, you bastard!” you hissed, pounding a fist against his back. It was like hitting solid stone beneath that cloak of fur.

Before you could muster another attempt, you felt him stop. Your stomach dropped. You turned your head just enough to see it—the hook, rusty and towering.

“No—wait, wait—!”

You screamed as the sharp, unforgiving metal pierced into your shoulder, the pain blinding. Your body arched involuntarily as you were hoisted upward, the hook locking you in place like a gruesome marionette. Tears pricked at your eyes as you gasped for breath, the white-hot sting radiating through your arm and chest.

You forced yourself to look down through blurry vision, trying to center yourself despite the pain. That’s when you noticed it.

The Beast had turned away from you, his posture rigid. His yellow eyes—no longer the deep red from before—snapped toward something unseen, a faint snarl escaping his lips. It was subtle at first, just the twitch of his ear and a low growl that rattled through the air. Then, without warning, he took off.

Fast.

You barely had time to process it. One second, he was standing still, and the next, he was gone, his speed a blur that rivaled the Nurse when she blinked through the map. His bells jingled sharply, fading into the distance like some terrible alarm.

“Shit,” you muttered, panting as you hung from the hook. You had seen Killers leave quickly before—Michael Myers, Ghostface, even Wraith when they heard someone nearby—but this? This was different. His speed was unnatural, like he wasn’t just hunting—he was responding.

Someone had grabbed his attention.

Clenching your teeth, you scanned the area. The thick fog made it impossible to see much, but you knew better than to waste time. With shaky hands, you reached up and gripped the hook, biting back a scream as the movement sent pain jolting through your shoulder. You had to get down.

With one sharp tug, you gasped as you unhooked yourself. The motion sent you tumbling to the ground, your knees hitting the dirt hard as the metallic sting in your shoulder flared hot.

For a second, you didn’t move, staring at the ground in disbelief. You did it.

You turned your head, breathing heavily as you glanced upward, seeing the Entity’s claws frozen—hanging mid-air, its barbed talon twitching as though struggling against something unseen.

You scrambled to your feet, clutching your injured shoulder as you stumbled away from the hook. Pain pulsed with every step, but you pushed through it, dragging yourself behind two massive boulders just far enough from where you’d been hooked.

The moment you were hidden, you sagged to the ground, leaning against the cold stone. Your fingers shook as you fumbled for your med-kit, flipping it open and pulling out a roll of bandages. “C’mon, c’mon,” you muttered, forcing yourself to focus.

You could hear the forest around you, the eerie quiet broken only by the occasional whisper of wind and the faint creak of trees swaying in the fog. But just as you started wrapping your shoulder, the peace shattered.

A distant, loud howl cut through the silence.

You froze, the sound rumbling across the map like thunder. It was long and drawn-out, echoing ominously through the thick fog, sending chills racing down your spine.

Somewhere far off, a generator powered up with a loud hum. You flinched at the noise, your heart racing. The sound was like a signal, bright and sharp against the quiet, a neon sign for the killer to follow.

Then, almost immediately after, you heard it: two survivors screaming.

“Shit,” you whispered, yanking the bandages tight around your shoulder with a hiss. You ignored the sting, forcing yourself to finish patching up as quickly as possible. You couldn’t afford to waste time, not when the Beast was on the prowl.

Sliding the med-kit back into your belt, you pressed your back against the boulder and carefully peered around its edge.

He’s fast, you thought, replaying everything in your mind. Faster than most killers you’d faced. And those howls… they weren’t just for show. He was tracking you, tracking everyone.

And if he had heard those screams—if he was responding like he had with you—then two survivors were about to have a very bad time.

You crouched by the generator, your fingers working quickly to untangle wires and tighten bolts as the machine clunked and whirred under your touch. The hum of progress filled the tense silence, but your eyes never stopped darting to the treeline. You scanned the fog for any sign of movement—any flash of red eyes, any sound of bells.

It was quiet. Too quiet.

There were no growls. No howls. No heavy, animalistic breathing. For a brief moment, you let yourself believe you were safe.

Then, a distant scream pierced the stillness, sharp and panicked.

You froze, your hands hovering above the generator as you closed your eyes with a sigh. “Again?” you muttered under your breath. He was relentless—hunting like a wolf with no intention of letting up.

You shook your head and got back to work, forcing your hands to steady. There wasn’t much else you could do. The generator needed to be fixed, and the only way anyone was escaping this hellhole was through powered gates.

The next time you glanced up, you nearly jumped out of your skin.

Sable limped toward you, her form emerging from the fog like a ghost. She looked like she’d barely escaped—her clothes were torn, and fresh blood streaked down her leg from a deep gash. Her face was pale and damp with sweat, but she still managed to flash you a weak grin as she knelt beside the generator.

“Don’t look at me like that,” Sable muttered, already reaching for the wires to help. Her voice wavered, but her hands moved with practiced precision. “I don’t wanna hear it.”

“I wasn’t gonna say anything,” you shot back, though your brow furrowed as you spared her a quick glance. “But you look bad. Did he—”

“Caught me near the edge of the map. The bastard’s too fast, but…” She paused to take a sharp breath, wincing as she shifted her weight. “I got away. Barely.”

You swallowed hard, nodding. “He hooked you?”

“No, but it was close.” Sable’s voice dropped to a whisper. “I think he wanted me to get away.”

That made you pause. “What?”

She didn’t answer immediately, her hands fumbling with a stubborn wire. “I don’t know how to explain it. He had me. He could’ve downed me completely. But he just�� watched me. Like he was testing me.”

You frowned, unsettled by the idea. “You sure he didn’t just screw up?”

Sable let out a dry, humorless laugh. “Not a chance. He’s too precise. The way he hunts, the way he moves—he knows exactly what he’s doing. It’s like…” She trailed off, biting her lip as the generator sparked briefly to life. “It’s like he’s playing with us.”

You tightened your grip on the wrench, trying to ignore the chill that crawled up your spine. You didn’t want to think about that. The Beast was already terrifying enough without the idea that he was toying with you.

“Let’s just get this gen done,” you muttered, shaking your head. “We can freak out later.”

Sable gave a small nod, both of you falling silent as you focused back on the task at hand. The generator rattled and sparked, the noise jarring in the quiet forest. You worked faster, both of you aware of how loud it was, how easy it would be for him to find you here.

Minutes stretched on, and you let yourself hope. Maybe you’d finish it. Maybe you’d—

A low, distant howl echoed through the fog.

You both froze.

“Shit,” Sable whispered, her face going pale.

The howl was closer this time, vibrating in your chest like the low growl of an engine. You heard the faint jingle of bells somewhere in the distance, growing louder—closer.

Your stomach dropped. He was coming.

The generator sparked again, and you and Sable flinched at the noise. Your hands were a blur, working faster now as dread crept up your spine. Every second counted. Every wire fixed, every bolt turned brought you closer to escape.

But then—

“That’s twice now,” a voice rumbled behind you. Low. Deep. Familiar. “You really ought to pay more attention to what’s around you.”

Your blood ran cold.

You and Sable froze mid-action, your breaths hitching in unison. Slowly—so slowly—you turned around, dread bubbling up like bile.

He was there.

Crouched in the shadows of the fog just a few meters away, half-hidden behind the curve of a tree. His yellow eyes were locked on the two of you, unblinking and unrelenting.

From this angle, you could see him clearer than before. His long glaive rested lazily in his normal hand, its blade still slick with fresh blood. His furred legs were bent as though ready to pounce at any second, his sharp claws digging into the dirt beneath him. And yet… he wasn’t rushing forward. Not yet.

Sable’s breath hitched beside you, her fingers curling tightly around a wrench as if it would do her any good. “You’ve gotta be kidding me…” she whispered.

The Beast tilted his head slightly, his yellow eyes narrowing as a low rumble vibrated in his chest. His gaze slid between the two of you like he was deciding which one to strike first.

“Run,” you whispered to Sable, not daring to break eye contact with him. “On three.”

“He’s too close,” she hissed back, her voice shaking.

“I don’t care—three!”

Before she could argue, you grabbed Sable’s wrist and yanked her with you as you bolted to the side, darting between the thick trees. A sharp, guttural growl erupted behind you, and you didn’t need to look back to know he was coming.

The bells. You heard the bells.

They rang in quick, chaotic bursts, each chime louder than the last as he pursued you. Leaves crunched and twigs snapped under his heavy, relentless strides, the sound too fast��too close.

“He’s on us!” Sable cried out, stumbling as she tried to keep pace.

You pushed her forward, urging her on. “Move!”

The forest blurred as you ran, your heartbeat roaring in your ears. You risked a quick glance over your shoulder, and your stomach dropped.

He was right there.

Running on all fours, his glaive held low, his yellow eyes locked directly on you, his movements unnervingly fluid—unnervingly natural.

He’s toying with us.

“Split up!” you shouted, veering sharply to the right.

Sable cursed but didn’t hesitate, darting left as you broke off in the opposite direction. You weaved through the dense trees, ducking under low-hanging branches and leaping over exposed roots. Your lungs burned, but you didn’t dare slow down.

The bells stopped.

You skidded to a halt behind a thick tree, pressing your back against its rough bark as you tried to catch your breath. Your chest rose and fell sharply, your shoulder aching where the hook had pierced you earlier.

Silence.

Where is he?

You froze when you heard Sable’s scream cut through the forest, sharp and gut-wrenching. You exhaled shakily, your fingers tightening around the edge of the tree as you processed what had just happened. He went after Sable. A pang of guilt flared in your chest, but it didn’t linger long—survival didn’t allow for much remorse. Sable knew the rules of the game as well as you did.

Without wasting another second, you turned back the way you came, darting quietly through the trees until you reached the half-finished generator. It sat there waiting, wires exposed and sparking faintly.

You crouched down and got back to work, your hands moving with a practiced urgency. Your ears were still on high alert, listening for the telltale jingling of bells or the rustle of something heavy moving through the fog.

Above you, the sky let out a deep, thunderous rumble, and the faint hum of the Entity’s claws slicing through the air echoed through the forest. Your stomach sank as you realized what that meant—Sable had been sacrificed.

Hooked twice already, you thought grimly, your expression tightening. I didn’t even realize.

You pushed the thought aside and focused on the task in front of you. There was no time to dwell.

"Sorry, Sable," you muttered under your breath, twisting a stubborn wire until it clicked into place. "Guess you’re out."

The generator sputtered, the sound growing louder as it inched closer to completion.

When the generator let out a loud, jolting clunk as the last bolt clicked into place. Sparks flew, and its lights blared to life, piercing through the thick fog.

You didn’t wait.

The second the generator roared to life, you took off running, your feet pounding against the forest floor. You knew better than to linger.

Two more. Just two more.

The thought became your mantra as you ducked low, weaving through the dense trees and tall grass. Your heartbeat pounded in your ears, drowning out the sound of the forest around you.

You needed a new plan. The others were still out there somewhere, working—hopefully—on the last remaining generators. If you could find one, or them, you’d have a chance.

You slid into a crouch behind a massive log, taking a second to catch your breath and survey your surroundings.

Then you heard it.

A faint jingling.

Shit.

You stayed low, your pulse spiking as the sound of bells grew louder, each chime like nails scraping across your nerves. You scanned the trees, your eyes darting wildly, trying to catch any sign of movement.

A shadow.

You flinched when you saw it—a dark silhouette moving through the fog, slow and deliberate. He was hunting again, his glaive dragging faintly against the dirt as he moved.

You held your breath and stayed perfectly still, your body coiled tight like a spring. He hadn’t seen you yet. You could wait him out—let him pass.

The jingling slowed. Stopped.

You frowned.

Why did he stop?

Before you could react, a low growl rumbled behind you.

No. No, no, no—

You spun around just in time to see him emerging from the fog towards you, his yellow eyes locked directly on you. His glaive gleamed in the pale light, slick and ready, his sharp claws flexing at his side.

You didn’t think—you ran.

He was on you immediately, the bells ringing out in chaotic bursts as he gave chase. You zigzagged through the trees, vaulting over fallen logs and ducking under branches. Your lungs burned, but you didn’t stop—couldn’t stop.

In the distance, you spotted something—a structure. Another shack.

You darted toward it, adrenaline pushing you forward as the growls and bells got closer, louder. You risked a glance over your shoulder, and your stomach dropped.

He was gaining on you.

With a desperate burst of speed, you vaulted through the window of the shack, landing hard on the other side. You stumbled but kept moving, running for the exit on the far end.

A loud crash echoed behind you as the Beast vaulted through the same window, his crimson eyes locked on you once again.

“You’re fast,” he growled, his deep, unused voice vibrating through the air, “but not fast enough.”

You ignored him, barreling out of the shack and looping back around, trying to buy yourself time. You knew he was faster but you had experience. Loops. Pallets. Technique.

You screamed as the Beast’s claws suddenly sliced across your back, sharp and unrelenting. Pain exploded through you, white-hot and disorienting, but you didn’t stop. You couldn’t. Gritting your teeth, you pushed through the agony and darted around the corner of some cages—rusted metal stacked haphazardly.

Your heart hammered as you sprinted, the sound of his heavy steps pounding behind you. You ran around as you desperately tried to put distance between you and him. Each turn felt like an eternity, every breath burning in your chest.

Finally, after what felt like forever, you skidded to a halt on one side of the cages, gasping for air.

The Beast stopped too.

You froze, your body tense as you watched him through the gaps in the rusted bars. He stood on the opposite side, unmoving. His yellow eyes, glowing faintly in the dark fog, stared directly into yours—sharp, unblinking, predatory.

And then, to your horror, he straightened up.

His hand reached over his shoulder, and you watched as he pulled his glaive from his back with a deliberate, almost casual motion. The blade gleamed darkly in the faint light as he spun it around his hand once—twice—with an unsettling ease.

The growl that followed was deep, rumbling from somewhere deep in his chest, but there was something else there. Amusement.

“Done running, little bunny?” His voice was low and rough, the words dripping with condescension.

Your blood ran cold. Little bunny.

“Shut up,” you spat, though your voice wavered.

He chuckled—he actually chuckled. The sound was dark, guttural, but far too human. It made your skin crawl.

“You’re a scrappy one, I’ll give you that,” he continued, tilting his head slightly as he dragged the glaive along the ground. “But you’ve been running for nothing.”

You frowned, your breath still coming in shallow gasps. “What?”

His eyes seemed to gleam as his lips pulled back into something halfway between a smirk and a snarl. “You haven’t noticed yet, have you?”

A sinking feeling settled in your stomach. “Noticed what?”

“You’re alone,” he said simply.

The words hit you like a punch to the gut.

“What—?”

He stepped closer to the cage wall, his gaze never leaving you. “You’re the last one left, little bunny. All your friends? Gone.”

You felt the ground shift beneath you, your pulse pounding in your ears. “You’re lying.”

Another rumbling chuckle. “Am I?”

The weight of his words crashed over you. The distant screams, the sound of the Entity rumbling in the sky—it all clicked into place. You hadn’t seen or heard anyone since Sable was taken. You thought someone else must still be working on the last generators, that maybe you had a chance.

But there was no one.

You were alone.

The Beast twirled his glaive again, the movement smooth and practiced. “You’ve fought well, but there’s nowhere left to run now.”

You tightened your grip on your side, wiping the sweat from your forehead as you met his predatory stare head-on. “Yeah?” you shot back, forcing your voice not to waver. “We’ll see about that.”

His grin widened, showing those gleaming fangs. “That’s the spirit.”

And then he moved.

You bolted the moment he lunged, the sharp whistle of his glaive cutting through the air as it missed you by mere inches. Your legs burned, your lungs screamed, but you pushed through, adrenaline surging through your veins. Run. Run. Run.

The Beast’s snarls echoed behind you, low and feral, punctuated by the pounding of his paws against the dirt. Every sound he made—growls, the snapping of his jaws, the guttural rumble of his breaths—sent chills racing down your spine.

You vaulted through a broken window of an old cabin, landing hard and stumbling but managing to stay upright. Without hesitation, you sprinted to the door on the other side, pushing it open and darting back out into the fog.

He’s still coming.

A heavy crash followed as he smashed through the window, unwilling to waste time following your path.

“Run faster, little bunny,” he growled from behind you, voice vibrating with dark amusement.

You hit a pallet, slamming it down just as he reached for you. The pallet struck his claws and chest with a loud crack, stopping him for a brief moment.

His red eyes snapped to you through the wooden slats, glowing with a furious intensity. Saliva dripped from his open jaws, long strings of it trailing to the ground as his chest heaved. With one clawed hand, he punched the pallet and crushed it into splinters.

You didn’t wait to see more—you ran.

Vaulting another window, you kept going, looping around the same structures, buying yourself time. He didn’t stop. No matter how many pallets you threw down, no matter how many windows you vaulted, the Beast was relentless.

You could hear him—feel him—close behind. The slap of his claws on the ground mixed with heavy breaths and the eerie jingling of the bells around his collar.

You passed through what looked like a slaughtered campsite—shredded tents, broken traps scattered across the dirt. A bloodied deer carcass laid limply on the ground, stomach ripped open. Nearby, a hunting lodge sat in decay, its walls splattered with claw marks. You didn’t slow, vaulting through the shattered lodge window.

As you looped through, your eyes darted across the environment.

A ruined jeep, long abandoned and covered in deep gashes. A pile of deer antlers stacked near an overturned trailer. Rusted cages lined with old bones—animal and human.

Everywhere you looked, the theme was clear. Hunting.

This was his map.

Everything—every structure, every grim detail—centered on the hunt. It was like you’d been dropped into his personal territory, a domain built to trap prey.

And right now, you were the prey.

You dashed between two more carcasses, your breathing ragged as you tried to keep moving. You could hear him still—too close, too fast.

“Run, little bunny.”

The words echoed in your head as you hit another pallet. You slammed it down just in time, hearing him growl as the wood cracked under his claws.

But this couldn’t last forever.

Your lungs were on fire, legs trembling as you stumbled around the thick trunk of a massive tree. His claws whistled through the air behind you, grazing your back just enough to tear the fabric of your shirt but leaving your skin intact.

And then you saw it.

The hatch.

It was nestled behind a massive fallen tree, partially hidden in the fog and decay, but there it was—your way out.

Your heart leapt in your chest as adrenaline surged through you. This was it.

You veered sharply to the right, pushing yourself faster than you thought possible. The fallen tree was a jagged mess of roots and splintered wood, but it didn’t matter. You scrambled up and over it, your hands scraping bark and dirt as you propelled yourself forward.

A deafening snarl erupted from behind you, so close it sent shivers crawling across your skin.

He’s right there.

But it didn’t matter—because you jumped.

You threw yourself toward the hatch, gravity pulling you down into its dark void. For a split second, you heard him—his enraged growl echoing through the trees, his claws slamming into the ground just inches too late.

And then you fell.

Everything went black for a heartbeat.

When you opened your eyes, you were back at the campfire.

The soft crackling of flames greeted you, warm and soothing compared to the oppressive silence of the fog. You landed on the damp ground in a heap, your chest heaving as you tried to catch your breath.

You were okay.

You glanced around, the familiar sights of the survivor camp slowly coming into focus. The fire flickered, its glow dancing across the empty logs and scattered supplies.

Your hands shook as you pressed them to the ground beneath you, grounding yourself, your heart still racing.

You did it.

You survived.

The realization hit you like a wave, leaving you breathless all over again. You were the first to survive the Beast.

The first.

A bitter laugh escaped your lips as you sat back, wiping the sweat and dirt from your face.

After that trial, when you managed to crawl into one of the ramshackle tents at the survivor camp, exhaustion dragged you under almost instantly. Your body was drained, and the adrenaline crash left you hollow and heavy. Sleep overtook you like a wave pulling you down into the deep.

But rest didn’t come easily.

The dream came swiftly, vivid and all too real.

You were back in the forest—his forest. The trees loomed tall, twisted and unkind, the ground littered with sharp branches and the glimmer of moonlight cutting through the fog. You could hear him in the distance: the soft jingle of the bells, the heavy thump of his claws on the ground.

You ran.

Your lungs burned as you tore through the darkness, stumbling over roots and ducking beneath low branches. But no matter how fast you moved, he was always there—just behind you. You could feel his presence, the weight of his stare pressing into your back.

“Run, little bunny,” his voice rumbled, dark and teasing, drifting through the fog like smoke.

You glanced back—and there he was. The Beast.

His crimson eyes glowed in the darkness, locked on you with unwavering focus. He chased you on all fours, his sharp claws tearing into the earth as he moved with an unnatural grace. His glaive was gone, leaving him raw and feral, his fangs gleaming in the dim light.

You screamed, pushing yourself faster, your body aching with every step.

And then—he caught you.

It happened so suddenly, you barely had time to process it. A sharp weight hit you from behind, sending you tumbling to the ground. Before you could scramble away, his body pinned you down, trapping you beneath him.

You froze, chest heaving as you stared up at him. Up close, he looked even more terrifying—wild and untamed, his mouth parted just enough to reveal sharp fangs, his breath hot and heavy against your skin.

But then, something shifted.

He didn’t harm you.

Instead, he scooped you up effortlessly, cradling you in his clawed arms as though you weighed nothing. You tried to struggle, but it was no use—his grip was firm, unrelenting, and yet… gentle.

He carried you deeper into the forest, further into the unknown, until you reached a cave nestled within the hills. It was dark and cool inside, the air heavy with the smell of earth and stone. He set you down carefully on a soft pile of fur—furs like his cloak.

You pressed yourself against the cave wall, unsure whether to scream or cry, but he only crouched before you, his red eyes staring into yours.

“Mine,” he growled, the word rumbling deep in his chest like a purr. His voice was dark and heavy, yet strangely… soft.

You blinked up at him, trembling. “W-what?”

“Mine,” he repeated, his hand brushed your cheek with shocking gentleness. The way he touched you sent shivers down your spine.

He leaned closer, his face mere inches from yours, his breath warm as it ghosted over your skin. “My bunny. Mine to keep.”

The growls in his voice softened into something sweet, almost melodic, as though he were coaxing you to stay calm. It should have terrified you—it did terrify you—but there was something unsettlingly comforting about the way he spoke.

You couldn’t move. Couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t speak.

And then you woke up.

You shot up in your makeshift bedroll, a strangled gasp escaping your throat as your heart pounded violently in your chest. Your hands gripped the thin blanket, sweat cooling on your skin.

You looked around frantically, the familiar interior of the cabin grounding you. It was just a dream. Just a dream.

But it felt so real.

You pressed a shaky hand to your forehead, trying to calm your racing heart.

It was just a dream…

A dream.

Sleep was out of the question after that. Every time you closed your eyes, you could see him—his crimson gaze, his claws brushing against your skin, his voice growling.

With a frustrated sigh, you kicked off the thin blanket and stood up, walking out of the cabin. Your thoughts were too loud, your body still tingling with the residual terror—and something else you didn’t want to name.

I need to clear my head.

You started walking, keeping close to the edges of the survivor camp but wandering far enough to feel alone. You let the quiet of the place settle around you, your boots crunching softly against the dirt.

Eventually, you found yourself near the invisible barrier that separated the survivors from them—the killers. You weren’t even sure why you wandered so close. Curiosity? Stupidity? Maybe you just needed to remind yourself where the line was drawn.

But then you froze.

Two figures stood just beyond the thin veil of fog.

The Trickster and Ghostface.

Their presence sent a cold shock through your chest, and you instinctively took a step back. But it was too late—they’d seen you. Trickster tilted his head, a grin already curling across his lips, and Ghostface’s mask turned to you.

“Well, well, well,” Trickster drawled, his voice dripping with wicked amusement. He leaned casually against a tree, his golden eyes practically glowing as he looked you over. “If it isn’t the Beast’s bunny.”

Your stomach dropped. “What?”

Ghostface let out a low, chuckling hum, his gloved hand tracing the edge of his knife as he stepped closer. “Oh, don’t play dumb. We know. You gave him quite the wild ride, sweetheart.”

You felt your face flush hot with anger and embarrassment. “Shut up,” you snapped. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Trickster cackled, his laughter loud and sharp, the sound echoing eerily in the fog. “Oh, come on. He came back furious after your little escape. Threw a fit like I’ve never seen. It was delicious.”

Ghostface chimed in, his tone teasing but low. “You’re all he could talk about, too. It’s like you’re his personal obsession now.” He mimicked the Beast’s deep growl mockingly: ‘Bunny.’

Your heart hammered in your chest, and you clenched your fists at your sides. “I don’t care what he said.”

“Mm, but you do care, don’t you?” Trickster purred, his smile widening as he leaned closer to the invisible line that separated you. “I bet you’re wondering why you’re so special. Why he didn’t mori you when he had the chance.”

“Leave me alone,” you hissed, taking a step back.

Ghostface tilted his head, the white of his mask gleaming through the fog. “What’s the matter? Didn’t you like his attention? After all, he went easy on you. That doesn’t happen often, you know.”

Trickster tapped a clawed finger against his temple. “You should feel honored, little bunny. Not every survivor gets a pet name.”

You glared at them, your skin crawling under their relentless teasing. You wanted to scream at them, to tell them to go back to their side of the fog and leave you alone, but you knew better. Picking a fight with killers—even ones that couldn’t touch you here—was asking for trouble.

Instead, you turned on your heel and stalked away, their laughter following you like a shadow.

“Sweet dreams, bunny!” Trickster called out behind you, voice dripping with mockery.

You didn’t look back.

Your head spun as you walked further into the camp, their words replaying in your mind. The Beast’s bunny. His obsession. Why didn’t he mori you when he had the chance?

You pressed a shaky hand to your forehead, frustration and unease settling deep in your chest. Why didn’t he?

The drop into the trial was as dizzying as always—the world around you materializing in a disorienting rush of fog and cold air. You hit the ground with a stumble, steadying yourself with a sharp breath. But as soon as you looked up, your heart sank.

No.

No, no, no.

Tall, twisted trees loomed in every direction, their jagged silhouettes clawing at the sickly sky. Bushes dense enough to hide anything rustled faintly in the breeze, and the unmistakable scent of damp earth and decay filled your nose. Ahead, you spotted the broken remains of a hunting lodge, its rotting wood and shattered windows familiar. Then, a flash of metal caught your eye—the glint of a rusted, blood-streaked hunting trap half-buried in the dirt.

Your blood ran cold.

You were on his map.

“Damn it,” you muttered, your voice barely a whisper, but the words echoed loud in your head.

Your stomach twisted as you remembered the last trial, his relentless pursuit, the flash of red in his eyes, the scrape of his claws.

“Get a grip,” you whispered to yourself. You couldn’t afford to freeze up now—not here, not on his turf.

Taking a deep breath, you gripped your flashlight and started moving, staying low as you weaved between the trees. Every step you took felt heavier than the last, like the map itself knew you were here—like he knew.

The broken-down jeep came into view, its rusting shell half-buried in leaves. You recognized it instantly—another landmark of his hunting ground. Just past it, you spotted the faint silhouette of a generator.

Focus, you told yourself. Find the gens. Fix them. Get out.

You crept closer, crouched low and trying not to make a sound. As you reached the generator, you knelt down and set your flashlight beside you.

You swallowed and started to work, your hands shaking slightly as you connected wires and tightened bolts. The hum of the generator grew louder with every adjustment, breaking the oppressive silence just a little.

But then you heard it.

A low, deep rumble carried through the trees.

Your hands froze. You didn’t even breathe as you strained to listen. At first, it sounded distant—almost like thunder rolling in—but then it grew closer. A soft, rhythmic growl, paired with the faint jingle of…

Bells.

Your heart plummeted.

Slowly, you turned your head, your blood running ice-cold. Through the thin veil of fog, you saw him—The Beast.

He stood just at the edge of the clearing, partially obscured by the shadows of the trees. His black cloak swayed faintly in the breeze, the fur draping over his broad shoulders as if it were part of him.

But it was his eyes—those glowing crimson eyes—that locked onto you like a predator spotting prey.

You couldn’t move. For a moment, it was as if the entire world held its breath.

Then he tilted his head, and his lips curled into something too sharp to be called a smile.

“Found you, little bunny.”

The sound of his voice—deep, rough, and unnervingly calm—snapped you out of your frozen state.

Run.

You shot up to your feet, abandoning the half-finished generator. Sprinting through the trees, you heard the pounding of footsteps behind you—heavy and impossibly fast. The bells on his collar rang softly with each movement, a haunting counterpoint to the blood rushing in your ears.

You weaved around trees and over logs, your lungs burning as you pushed yourself to move faster. But no matter how hard you ran, the growls grew louder, closer.

He’s toying with you.

The thought made your chest tighten with panic. You darted past a deer carcass, its lifeless eyes staring blankly, and nearly tripped over a hunting trap concealed in the leaves. A quick glance over your shoulder made your blood freeze.

He was right there.

Running on all fours, his claws dug into the dirt with every step, his cloak billowing behind him like a shadow. Drool dripped from his snarling mouth, and those red eyes—those damn eyes—never left you.

You turned sharply, sprinting toward a cluster of old crates and barrels. The familiar sight of a pallet gave you hope, and you grabbed hold of it, shoving it down just as he lunged forward. The pallet crashed to the ground, momentarily blocking his path.

You didn’t wait to see what he’d do next.

Vaulting over a window in a broken shack, you stumbled inside, gasping for air. Your heart thundered in your chest, but you seized the moment. The shack was small and dark, its rotting walls barely holding together, but the row of lockers against one wall caught your eye. Hiding was risky, you knew that, but running blindly wouldn’t get you far—not against him.

Quickly, you slipped into one of the lockers, squeezing yourself into the cramped space. The door creaked softly as you pulled it shut, and you winced, holding your breath as you pressed your body back as far as it would go.

You put a trembling hand over your mouth, forcing yourself to stay silent. Through the thin gaps in the locker, you could see into the room—shadows cast from the broken windows danced across the splintered floor. For a few agonizing seconds, there was nothing but silence.

Then you heard it.

The faint clink of bells.

Your stomach dropped.

The door to the shack creaked as it swung open, and the sound of heavy footsteps echoed through the room. Slow, deliberate steps—he wasn’t in a hurry. He knew you were here.

Through the locker’s slats, you caught glimpses of him. He prowled into view, hunched slightly forward as he sniffed the air, his claws scraping the wood with every step.

Then he stopped.

Right in the middle of the room.

You bit down on your hand, trying to control your ragged breathing as your chest rose and fell in frantic rhythm. His head tilted slightly, his crimson eyes sweeping the shack as though he could see through the walls. He growled—a low, vibrating sound that rattled in his chest.

“Little bunny,” he called softly, his voice rough and cruelly sweet.

You squeezed your eyes shut, praying he wouldn’t hear the pounding of your heart.

“I can smell you,” he continued, dragging out the words. “You ran so far… fought so hard… yet here you are. Hiding.”

His footsteps began again, the sound of bells chiming with each movement. You peeked through the slats and saw him move toward the lockers. Your blood turned to ice.

He stopped at the first locker.

The metal hinges creaked loudly as he tore the door open. Empty.

A low rumble escaped him—disappointed but patient.

Don’t open this one… don’t open this one, you thought frantically.

You watched as he moved to the second locker.

Your heart was in your throat, your entire body shaking as you clamped your hand harder over your mouth. He gripped the handle of the second locker door, then yanked it open with a growl.

Empty again.

He chuckled darkly, the sound making your skin crawl.

Then he turned to your locker.

You froze, every muscle in your body tensed as you stared through the gaps. His red eyes locked onto the locker door—onto you. You felt it.

He stepped forward, slow and deliberate, the glaive scraping against the floor as he moved. He was toying with you, savoring the fear that radiated off you in waves.

His clawed hand reached out, wrapping around the handle.

No, no, no—

Suddenly, the faint sound of a generator powering up echoed in the distance.

The Beast paused. His head snapped up, and his growl turned into a snarl. He hesitated for only a moment, then released the locker handle.

You didn’t move. You didn’t breathe.

With one last glare toward your hiding spot, he turned and stalked out of the shack, his bells jingling softly as he disappeared into the fog.

It wasn’t until you couldn’t hear his footsteps anymore that you dared to move.

Your hand fell away from your mouth as you gasped, air rushing into your lungs. You were shaking so badly you nearly fell out of the locker when you pushed the door open.

Slumping against the wall of the shack, you wiped sweat off your forehead and tried to steady your breathing.

That was too close.

“Get it together,” you whispered to yourself, standing up on wobbly legs.

You slipped out of the shack, your steps light as you crept toward the edge of the clearing. The cool air hit your face, but it did nothing to soothe the burn of exhaustion in your chest. Just as you were about to get your bearings, a blood-curdling scream cut through the silence.

Your stomach twisted at the sound of another survivor being hooked. You could almost feel their pain.

Shaking your head, you adjusted your grip on your flashlight and made your way back to the generator you’d started earlier.

The map was eerily quiet now, save for the faint hum of the Entity’s realm and the crunch of leaves beneath your feet.

You eventually spotted the generator up ahead, the same one you’d been working on before everything went sideways. It was tucked between two thick trees, its rusted frame bathed in the faint glow of moonlight.

Crouching down, you wasted no time. Your hands moved quickly, twisting bolts, reconnecting wires, and steadying sparking circuits. The generator let out small electric whines as you worked, and you winced every time it sounded too loud.

Your pulse quickened when you saw the progress bar fill just a little more. You were close—so close. The distant sounds of the map felt muffled as you zoned in on your work. Don’t mess up. Don’t mess up.

Then you heard it.

A growl.

Your hands froze mid-movement. You didn’t dare look up.

The sound was distant at first—like an echo carried by the fog—but it was unmistakable. Him.

“No,” you whispered to yourself, forcing your shaking hands to continue fixing the generator. If you stopped now, it’d all be for nothing.

You twisted one final bolt, and the generator sputtered before roaring to life. Its floodlights lit up the area, and the familiar blaring noise followed, announcing your progress to anyone listening.

Your breath hitched.

And that included him.

Somewhere close by, a howl ripped through the forest. Loud, guttural, and far too close for comfort.

Your eyes snapped up.

The fog shifted unnaturally ahead of you, parting like something monstrous had disturbed it. Through the haze, yellow eyes burned bright as they locked onto you.

Your heart dropped.

“Of course,” you muttered bitterly, turning on your heel and sprinting into the forest without a second thought.

The Beast roared in response, and you could hear the pounding of his claws against the dirt as he gave chase. The bells chimed in time with his steps, their sound twisted and distorted as they echoed behind you.

Trees blurred past you as you ran, leaping over roots and dodging branches that reached out like skeletal hands. You dared a glance over your shoulder and immediately regretted it—he was there, close enough for you to see the gleam of his fangs in the moonlight.

“Move, move, move!” you hissed to yourself, adrenaline pushing you forward as fast as your legs would carry you.

You felt it before you saw it—the sharp, searing pain of claws slicing across your back. The force of the blow sent you stumbling forward, your scream ripping through the fog as blood soaked into your shirt. The Beast snarled behind you, the sound a dark promise that he wasn’t done yet.

Move. Don’t stop.

Gritting your teeth through the pain, you spotted salvation up ahead: a pallet resting between two large trees. You pushed your legs to move faster, ignoring the burning sensation in your muscles as his heavy footsteps closed the distance.

With one final burst of speed, you reached the pallet, and in one fluid motion, you grabbed it and slammed it down with all the strength you had left.

The wood hit the ground with a satisfying thud just as he lunged, the pallet catching him mid-swing. He staggered for a moment, a low growl vibrating through the air as his red eyes locked onto you in fury.

But you weren’t done yet.

With shaky fingers, you flicked your flashlight on and aimed the beam directly at his face. The bright light pierced through the dark fog and hit him square in the eyes.

The Beast recoiled, a guttural snarl ripping from his throat as he jerked his head to the side, blinking furiously against the glare.

It worked.

You let out a shaky breath, a triumphant smile tugging at your lips despite the pain. The flashlight always works. He was blinded, even if just for a moment.

“Sorry, big guy,” you muttered under your breath, already turning on your heel and bolting away.

You didn’t have time to celebrate as you sprinted deeper into the forest, weaving between trees and broken fences.

The pounding of your footsteps against the dirt slowed as you spotted a faint glow through the trees—a generator, partially lit but still sputtering with effort. Relief rushed through you when you recognized three familiar figures huddled around it: Haddie, Ada, and Steve.

You stumbled toward them, blood still trickling from the slash on your back, your breath coming in ragged gasps.

“Hey!” Haddie called, her sharp gaze snapping to you. “Oh!”

“Jesus,” Steve muttered, already pulling out a med-kit and kneeling beside you. “Sit. You’re not gonna last like this.”

You hesitated for only a moment before sinking to the ground, letting Steve’s steady hands work on patching you up. The sting of antiseptic burned through the haze of adrenaline, but you bit your tongue, trying to focus on Ada and Haddie, who were whispering urgently to each other as they worked on the generator.

You opened your mouth to say something, but the words froze in your throat.

The sound came first. Faint, but clear.

Bells.

The soft, eerie jingle carried through the trees, distant at first… but quickly growing louder.

Steve stopped his hands mid-wrap, while Haddie’s and Ada’s both paused.

Slowly, all four of you turned to look behind you.

There, standing just at the edge of the clearing, was him.

His red eyes were glowing in the shadows, piercing through the fog like twin beacons. The glaive in his hand stained with blood, and his massive clawed arm twitched as though eager to tear into flesh again. He tilted his head, his stare locking onto all of you at once.

And then he spoke, his voice a deep, guttural rumble that made something in your stomach tickle.

“I can see you… all of you,” he drawled, his lips pulling back into a sharp grin that revealed rows of teeth. “When you’re together.”

Your heart stopped for a second.

“Oh, shit,” Haddie whispered.

Before anyone could move, the Beast lunged forward, his speed blinding.

“RUN!” Steve shouted, shoving you forward as he scrambled to his feet.

The air erupted in chaos.

You turned just in time to see the Beast barrel into the group, his glaive slashing outward. Haddie screamed as she was hit by the blade. Ada dove for cover behind the generator, her flashlight slipping from her grip.

Steve grabbed your arm, dragging you up as you stumbled.

“Go, go, go!” he yelled.

You bolted into the trees, your legs screaming in protest as pain flared through your back. From behind you, you could hear the heavy thud of the Beast’s footsteps and the ragged sound of his growls.

A scream echoed through the clearing—Haddie’s voice.

You glanced back for a split second and saw him standing over her, his claws raised, his red eyes flicking up to meet yours.

He’s looking at me.

Your stomach twisted, but you forced yourself to keep running, Steve at your side as the two of you crashed through the brush. Branches whipped against your face, the fog curling thicker the deeper you went.

The sound of Haddie's scream suddenly cut through the fog like a blade, sending a shiver of dread through your body. You could barely register the sound of Ada's scream following shortly after.

Tears stung your eyes as the wind howled through the trees, but you blinked them away.

But then you heard it—snap.

The world tilted as a sharp, searing pain shot through your leg, and you collapsed to the ground with a scream.

"Shit!" you gasped, clutching your thigh.

Your hands trembled as you looked down, the panic rising in your chest. You’d stepped into a snare trap. The sharp sting was immediate, its barbed wire coiled tightly around your upper thigh, the more you moves, the more the wire tightened, digging deeper into your skin with every movement, the barbed edges cutting into you like they were meant to hold you there—forever.

“No, no, no,” you panted, struggling to pull yourself free, blood began to trickle down your leg, warm and sticky, as you gasped, the pain making your vision blur.

“Help,” you cried out hoarsely, your voice breaking.

Steve, who had been ahead of you, didn’t hesitate to come back after hearing your scream. He rushed back to your side, his face pale as he looked down at the trap.

“Shit, shit, shit,” he cursed under his breath, kneeling beside you. His hands were frantic as he assessed the trap. “It’s too tight.”

You bit back a groan, trying to hold yourself still, but every small movement made the pain shoot deeper.

“Hold on, just… just hold on, alright?” Steve's voice was steady, despite the panic in his eyes as he worked at the wire. His hands were shaking, but he didn’t stop, trying to loosen it around your leg.

His movements were careful, slow, and you could feel every second ticking by like a countdown. The Beast could be right on top of you, you didn’t know.

“Steve, hurry!” you begged, the tears you had been blinking away now threatening to fall freely.

“I’m trying,” Steve muttered, his teeth clenched as he twisted the snare, trying to get it loose. “You’ve got to stay still, alright? You’re making it worse moving.”

You nodded, fighting against the urge to scream, biting down on your lip as you did your best to remain still.

“I’ve got it,” Steve said finally, relief flooding his voice as the wire loosened just enough for him to work his hands under it and pull your leg free.

You gritted your teeth, ignoring the throbbing pain in your leg as Steve pulled you to your feet. Your muscles screamed in protest, but you couldn’t afford to stop now.

“We need to go—now!” Steve urged, his voice tight with urgency. He glanced over his shoulder, scanning the fog, clearly sensing the Beast’s presence growing closer.

You nodded, swallowing the panic rising in your chest. The last thing you needed right now was to get caught. You limped, your leg barely holding up as you tried to keep pace with Steve, but every step sent a jolt of pain through you.

He kept his pace faster, glancing at you every few seconds to make sure you were still moving. “Just a bit further. We’ve got to make it to the generator—then we can heal, okay?”

You didn’t answer. You couldn’t. You were focused entirely on the uneven ground beneath your feet.

And then, just as the rustle of movement caught your ear, Steve spun around, blocking your path. His face was tight with fear.

“He’s close,” he said breathlessly.

You nodded, trying to steady yourself against the pain in your leg, but it was getting harder to move. Every step felt like an eternity.

“Steve…” you whispered, voice cracking. “I don’t know how much longer I can…”

Before you could finish, a blood-curdling howl echoed through the air, the sound unmistakable. The Beast had caught your scent.

"Go! Run!" Steve shouted, urgency in his voice.

You stumbled, torn between the need to run and the instinct to stay with him. "What about you?" you asked, voice strained as the Beast’s growl grew louder.

Steve shot you a look, his expression grim. He didn’t have time to argue. “You heard what he said,” he panted, pulling away slightly. “He can see us when we’re together. We’re better off apart.”

You wanted to protest, to grab his arm and drag him with you, but his eyes were already scanning the fog, watching for any movement. His resolve was set.

He gave you a slight push, his voice soft but firm. “Go.”

Without another word, Steve turned and bolted in the opposite direction, breaking away from you. His footsteps disappeared into the thick fog.

You hesitated for only a moment before you took off running, forcing your legs to move despite the pain.

You were alone now.

You found a quiet place to heal, between two thick trees. The tension in your shoulders was unbearable as you worked, each slow, painful motion making the process feel like it took a lifetime.

But then, a scream.

Steve’s scream.

The sound tore through the fog, sharp and raw. Your heart clenched. The scream was cut short, but it was enough to stop you dead in your tracks.

Steve was on the hook.

Without wasting another second, you groaned as you pushed yourself to your feet, your leg screaming in protest. You couldn’t afford to leave Steve behind. You couldn’t. Not when he was still alive and needed you.

You looked around nervously, trying to get your bearings, but the dense fog made it almost impossible to see anything clearly. You limped toward the source of Steve’s scream, heart pounding, knowing you had to be quick.

You passed by broken trees and fallen branches, your breath quick and shallow. Each step was more painful than the last, but you pushed through it.

The sound of Steve’s struggles echoed faintly ahead, his voice barely audible but enough to urge you forward.

Hang on, Steve. Please hang on, you thought desperately.

When you reached the clearing where the scream had come from, you saw Steve struggling, dangling from a hook.

Your stomach twisted. You didn’t know where Haddie was—if she was even still alive—but Ada? You weren’t sure.

All you knew was that you didn’t see him close by, and so you took the chance. You rushed forward, limping toward Steve, your heart pounding in your chest as you neared the hook.

But then, you heard his voice—a strained shout.

“Stop!” Steve yelled, his voice tight with fear.

You froze, mid-step. Your eyes locked with his, confusion rushing through you. He was staring at you with wide, frantic eyes, almost as if warning you.

You didn’t understand at first, but then you heard it—the subtle scrape of claws on the ground.

From behind the hook, he emerged, his body low to the ground, his yellow eyes fixed on you. His mouth was twisted in something between a snarl and... a smirk? It was unsettling. He wasn’t even trying to hide his hunger now. He knew exactly what he was doing.

Your heart skipped a beat as he crawled closer, his sharp claws scraping against the dirt. The bells jingled softly, but it felt like they were ringing in your ears, louder with every passing second.

Your eyes darted between Steve and the Beast. The decision was clear.

Without another thought, you spun on your heel and ran.

Every muscle screamed in protest, but adrenaline was the only thing fueling you now. Branches whipped past you, the fog pressing in around you, blurring your vision. The sound of heavy footsteps echoed behind you, each thundering step closer than the last.

You heard him, the low growl vibrating in the air, and then the unmistakable sound of his bells—ting-ting-ting. You thought you could feel the ground beneath your feet trembling, his pace quickening as he closed the distance. You tried to cut left, darting around trees in an attempt to break his line of sight, but he was still behind you.

In that moment, you realized the truth: he wasn’t chasing you to catch you. He was chasing you because he enjoyed it. He was savoring this. The thrill, the fear that radiated off you, the helplessness that grew with every passing second. You were his prey. And he was playing with you like a wolf with its catch—only, you weren’t meant to escape.

You felt the slash against your back, a sudden, agonizing pain raking across your side. The scream tore itself from your throat as you stumbled, falling to the ground in a heap. Blood welled up from the wound, pooling around you, but you barely noticed it, your mind too frantic to focus on anything but the Beast who loomed over you.

You turned your head, gasping for air, your vision swimming as you fought to stay conscious. The Beast stepped over you, his massive, clawed feet brushing the dirt, and for a moment, everything went still. He stood there, towering over you, his presence suffocating, making it feel like the world had closed in. His red eyes locked onto yours, glowing.

He didn’t move, just watched you, his expression unreadable. A low growl rumbled from deep in his chest, the sound vibrating through the ground beneath you. Your heart pounded, your breath shallow and ragged, but you couldn’t look away. His eyes were mesmerizing, wild and filled with hunger.

For a moment, it was as if time stood still, the forest around you fading away into nothing. There was no escape. No hope.

A slow, almost sinister smile spread across his face as he leaned down, his claws brushing against your cheek in a slow, deliberate motion. His breath was hot and heavy, and you could feel the weight of his gaze as if he were searching for something in you—something he wanted to claim. You shuddered under his touch, your body unable to move, paralyzed by fear.

"You're mine now," he murmured, his voice a guttural growl that sent shivers down your spine. His fangs gleamed in the low light, sharp and ready.

You couldn’t fight him. You were too weak, too broken, and all you could do was stare up at him, eyes wide with terror. The Beast crouched lower, his form blocking out the sky above you, and you could feel the weight of his gaze on your soul.

Then, without warning, he licked your cheek, his rough, warm tongue brushing against your skin like a dog's. It sent a shiver down your spine, and you instinctively recoiled, but there was nowhere to go. His hot breath fanned across your face as he sniffed at you, inhaling deeply as if savoring your scent, his gaze lingering on your every move.

You felt an uncomfortable twinge of vulnerability, but you couldn’t move fast enough to get away. His eyes darted downward, now focused on your leg, the one still bleeding from the snare trap. You hadn’t even noticed until now how much blood had soaked through your pants.

Before you could react, he suddenly ripped open the fabric of your pants, exposing the wound. The rough sound of tearing fabric filled the air as his claws made quick work of the material, revealing the injury beneath.

Your breath hitched in your throat as you watched him, confusion and fear flooding your mind. What was he doing?

You gasped when the Beast's rough tongue suddenly brushed against the open wound on your thigh, the sensation shocking you. It felt strange—like something was pulling at you from within, and you instinctively flinched.

"Stop..." you gasped, though the words came out weak, as you tried to crawl away, desperate to get some distance between you and him.

But before you could get far, his sharp claws sank into the soft flesh of your thigh, gripping and pulling you back to him. The pressure was intense, and you couldn’t move. He held you there, unyielding, as his tongue continued to lick at your wound, collecting the blood.

You whimpered, trying to push against his hold, but his grip was like iron, and no matter how hard you struggled, you couldn’t escape.

As the Beast continued, the warmth of his tongue against your skin became oddly less weird. The fear remained, but you couldn’t deny the strange sensation of being so completely under his control. His actions were relentless, but they were also slow, as though savoring something delicate.

Then, suddenly, he pulled back. You heard soft whines escape from him, and it sent a cold chill down your spine. You met his eyes again, and you could see the remnants of your blood, mixed with his saliva, dripping from the corners of his mouth. The sight made your stomach twist.

He slowly licked the blood from around his lips, his gaze never leaving you. His breathing was deep, his chest rising and falling with each inhale. He crawled closer again, his eyes intense, and for a moment, all you could hear was his heavy breathing.

Then, with a low growl, he spoke. “You smell so... good,” he murmured, his voice deep and gravelly. “You taste so sweet...”

The words sent a shiver down your spine. He seemed to be savoring them as much as he had savored the blood from your wound. His voice dropped even lower, his words tinged with something darker.

“You’ve had me going crazy ever since I first caught a scent of you. I can’t get you out of my mind.” His eyes gleamed, hungry and wanting.

He leaned closer, his breath hot against your mouth. “I crave you,” he repeated, his tone possessive, as though the very thought of you was driving him wild.

Fear mingled with something else in the pit of your stomach. You weren’t sure what it was, but his words were like a trap, a pull that made it hard to think clearly, harder to remember why you needed to escape.

His breath was hot against your skin, his presence overwhelming, and before you could react, the Beast leaned in, his face inches from yours. Your heart raced in your chest, fear and confusion coursing through you. Then, without warning, his lips pressed against yours.

The kiss was rough, urgent, as if he were trying to claim you. You froze, unable to process what was happening. His mouth was warm, and for a moment, everything seemed to disappear around you, your thoughts clouded by the shock of the moment.

You felt his hands, still strong and unyielding, keeping you in place as his lips moved against yours. It was unlike anything you had ever experienced, and the unexpectedness of it left you breathless, your mind unable to fully comprehend his actions.

For a long second, time seemed to slow. He pulled away just enough to gaze at you, his red eyes intense, searching for something in your expression. The kiss had left you disoriented, unsure of how to feel, and you could see the hunger in his eyes.

Before you could gather your thoughts, he whispered low, “My little bunny.”

His grip tightened for a moment, and you could feel the intensity of his words as they settled in your chest. "I'm sorry," he murmured, his voice low, but there was an unsettling tenderness to it. "But I have to kill you now."

Before you could react, he flipped you over with ease, pinning you beneath him. His paw pressed down on your back, the weight of it overwhelming as his gaze locked onto you.

You squirmed beneath him, trying to push against his hold, but it was useless. His strength was far beyond yours, and every attempt to free yourself only seemed to make his grip tighten.

"Please," you gasped, voice trembling as you struggled.

But he didn’t stop. His eyes were locked on yours with an intensity that sent a chill through you, and his body felt like a heavy weight, pressing you into the cold ground.

"Can you at least tell me your name?" you asked, your voice desperate. It was all you could think of to try to connect with him, to find some way to understand him.

He stopped for a moment, his eyes narrowing as he considered your words. There was a flicker of something—something almost human—in his gaze before he growled, a low rumble vibrating through his chest.

"Jay," he said simply, the sound of it rough but clear.

You repeated it softly to yourself, tasting the name on your lips. "Jay."

He paused again, almost as if surprised- "You're the first one to know it." A flicker of something—maybe amusement, flashed in his eyes.

But then, without warning, he threw his head back, releasing a haunting howl that echoed through the night. The sound seemed to reverberate through the very air, a chilling symphony of raw power and unbridled emotion.

As the echo faded, Jay lowered himself, his jaws parting slightly as he moved closer to you. There was no mercy in his eyes, no hesitation. With a swift motion, he sank his teeth into your neck. The pain was sharp and intense, but before you could even process it fully, darkness claimed you, and everything around you vanished.

You gasped as you fell back into the survivor camp, unharmed, alive, as if nothing had happened at all.

The others were going about their business, completely unaware of the nightmare you had just experienced. The tension in your body remained, though, a tight knot in your chest that wouldn't loosen.

You knew you couldn't tell anyone what had happened. No one would understand. They would think you had lost your mind.

Shaking the lingering thoughts from your head, you stood up, your legs a bit unsteady. The sharp, eerie silence that had enveloped the camp was suddenly pierced by the unmistakable howl from the direction of the killers' area. It echoed through the foggy air, loud and clear, that it made the other survivors nearby glance up in alarm.

The howl was different from the usual ones. It was the triumphant cry of a successful hunt—an announcement to the realm that the beast had claimed his prize.

══════⊹⊱≼≽⊰⊹══════

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herecomethatboi · 8 months ago

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Dbd killers x gn!reader pt. 3

Part 3 of mc getting slammed against the wall lol

Guys I need more, feel free to send me any kind of request (nsfw abc, sfw abc, more parts for this silly series etc)you have and i'll gladly write them all :D (when my final exams are finally over hahaha)

Also, I was drunk when I wrote this and I trust drunk-me with writing. He's better at writing than sober-me, so here's an unedited "masterpiece"!

ENJOYYYY 🩷🩷

The Mastermind:

At the start of the match you saw the gray metal box right next to you and knew exactly who you were up against.

You weren't thrilled at all, Wesker or "Mastermind" -as the Entity called him- was such a try hard with his skillful dashes, that you sometimes questioned if he actually was just doing it since "it's better strategy" and not for the fact he enjoys doing stunts like that.

You sighed as you rummaged around the other normal chest you found -since you forgot to equip an item- and found a flashlight, which was perfect.

Then, you heard his little chuckle Wesker does, before he dashes and was swept up immedietly and thrown quite far away.

You groaned at the impact, but got up and ran, the killer close on your tail.

Just in time, you found a pallet and smacked it on top of his head, flashed the flashlight into his face -which usually angers him a lot- and then ran more.

This back and forth between you two continued, and three gens already popped, which you were glad about.

But, alas, your confidence came back to bite you in the ass.

Wesker caught you again, slammed you against the shack, and just kept you there, while he grinned.

"Caught you now." The killer was so so close, your lips almost touched.

He was amused in his own twisted way. An ordinary human made him run so much, but in the end, was caught easily.

"Gonna hook me now?" You squeked out, your throat was held tight with the uwuburos, making breathing difficult.

Awh, you're adorable. A little mouse, if you will. Wesker knew the Entity's rules, but eventually, he will have his fun with you.

Another gen popped.

"Oh no, i'm keeping you here." He said, gave you a little peck on the lips, just to confuse you even further. Nootherreasonwhatareyoutalkingabout.

Then stepped away, but the virus stayed, locking you against the wall. "Your performance was above average. Congratulations." He bowed. "You gained the tiniest respect from me."

He left with a smirk. You tried to claw away the black thing that just didn't seem budge or tear away. So, you gave up. You looked up into the fake dark sky, thinking...

What the Hell did you get into.

The Nightmare (Freddy Krueger):

The dream realm was a tricky thing to navigate in. You sometimes were weirded out by the bloodpools that scared the living shit out of you, when you accidently stepped into them.

Today, there were no generators. Which made you uneasy. What the heck is going on?

You walked into the main building and tried to listen.

Then, the laugh. That annoying, weird, freaky laugh Freddy made, then you were in the dream realm. You looked around, like a deer in headlight. Trying to listen in on the killer.

"What the Hell is going on?" You asked out loud. You turned around and there he was, leaning against a generator that was NOT there a second ago.

"A new game." He simply amswered with a grin. Freddy seemed too happy. "A little gift from the Entity to me."

"Okay, but wha-"

"Shhh shhh shhh let me finish."

"Sorry."

"Khm. So, easy," he leaned away from the gen and stepped toward you, "you find the fake generator, and you win a price!" His grin told you there was a twist.

"If I don't?"

"... you'll know." He said with a childish innocence. "Good luck!" Then he disappeared.

Great.

After God knows how long, you finally found the fake generator. Which made it bleed, just like in normal trials, and Freddy appeared.

"Now, that wasn't that difficult, was it?"

"What the Hell is your game, Freddy?"

"Making out with you."

"What??" Before your shock truely registered, you were up against the bloody generator with him kissing you roughly.

You tried to push against him, but there was no use, of course there wasn't, you mentally rolled your eyes.

So, you just let it happen.

The kiss wasn't... Bad. You sadly had to admit.

Freddy held you surprisingly gently by the waist and neck. But his kiss was bruising and he did bite your lower lip more than once.

You started to actually kiss back and held his waist in one hand, while the other was on his shoulder.

Why were you kissing back? What the Hell is wrong with you? You don't know, but it feels... Right?

Then, you woke up wide eyed. You blinked a thousand times and just stared above you. The roof of your tent cleared up from the blurry image it was. Then you just... Licked you lip, feeling it was dry and had a smoky taste.

WHAT. THE. HELL????

#dead by daylight #dbd x gn reader #dbd x reader #freddy krueger #freddy kruger x reader #albert wesker #albert wesker x reader #x gn reader #gn reader

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motimatcha · 8 months ago

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"nostromo"

PART 4. They don't laught about legends.

parts: one | two | three | four | five

dbd Xenomorph (alien) x fem!reader. attention: nothing?

The xenomorph was not present at the next test, nor at the second, third... it seemed that the Entity had completely gotten rid of one of its killers, and it would have been so, but Ellen was still here, like the Nostromo, empty without its owner.

At first, you were more than happy that your personal nightmare would no longer bother you during the tests, but for some reason it began to seem to you that along with the xenomorph you had lost something important. Other killers could not bring you the same thrill and adrenaline during the chase as the unpredictable stranger did. Who else, besides him, is capable of switching from close to long-range attacks, hiding his presence and appearing in the most unexpected places. Some things with an extraterrestrial being could only be rivaled by Michael Myers, and GhostFace, teasing you with his deep voice after one test.

The same one when you were ready to almost kiss him.

“GostFace,” you decided to raise your voice while repairing the generator, when the named one, hiding his presence, was sitting almost behind you. The killer did not answer you, but since there was no blow from him, you could conclude that he was surprised and interested. Did his banter have an effect? “By chance, you don’t know, a survivor can get into the killer’s territory without being on...”

You don't have time to come to an agreement. A knife whistles through the air dangerously close. The heart misses a beat - vulnerability. It was necessary to look at GostFace, and not sit carelessly at the generator.

Dash to the side and forward along the corridor to the nearest boards. The Lary Memorial Institute was rich in the number of window openings, corridors, rooms, boards - everything that could be used against killers and killers against survivors. Such as GhostFace chasing you felt almost like a fish out of water, if only there were more tall bushes to hide in and keep an eye on the survivors, it’s just a fairy tale.

“Apparently he thought that I was making fun of him,” you thought. And although you did not mean anything like that, and your question was asked out of sincere curiosity, it is unlikely that the killer will listen to you now. Most likely, now he will only chase after you in retaliation, but it’s not that you need to get used to such an attitude.

There are four generators left to run.

You were left standing at the exit from the location created by the Entity. The other survivors had already left, but considered it their sacred duty to call you crazy since you wanted to say goodbye to their failed killer. You decided not to say that you actually wanted to ask a couple of questions to the Entity’s pet.

The GostFace came to you slowly. Another sound signal sounded and another earthquake shook the collapsing world. It was clear from him that he hoped that you had given up trying to find out something from him, but your determination and stubbornness could compete with his own when he was tracking down a new victim.

“This is a one-sided rule,” the silent killer speaks sharply and unexpectedly. You are not quite used to the fact that a seemingly puny guy can have such a low voice. Like smoky.

However, his words force you to think deeply. "One-sided rule"? What the hell is he talking about ? You go through all sorts of options in your head, up to the point that the killers can’t... oh. O!

“Thank you,” you respectfully nod your head and your voice is full of sincere gratitude and enthusiasm. “Oh, you don’t know how exactly you can get into the killer’s territory?”

Perhaps it seemed to you, but under the mask GostFace rolled his eyes. Yes, it definitely seemed to you like a trick of the imagination after a long chase, and he doesn’t think you’re an ignorant fool. Exactly.

“How do you think the Essence responds to us all and gives us certain opportunities? The hatch in the killer's hut, the thickening fog... you make yourself look awkward, even though you've been here much longer than I have. Although if you come up now and allow me to send you to the entity...”

The killer's statement hurts you, but you maintain a stoic expression. God forbid if he realizes that his words really hurt you and starts using it against you, as is happening now after your fiasco in one of the tests.

“I understand that with the help of offerings, but where to use them? I can’t approach...” you didn’t dare to talk about the fact that the survivors have a fire where you all gather after the tests. You can expect anything from a person like GhostFace, up to and including the fact that he just lied to you and in fact the killers can get to the survivors, they just don’t want to do this for their own personal reasons. “...the place where we use our offerings and wish to go to the one I need.”

“Why not?”

“Because it doesn’t work like that?”

“And who told you this?”

“Other survivors who were told this by the Entity?”

“She actually came to bow to you and said, “survivors, you cannot use the offerings from this thing to get to the killer”?”

“Well... probably not? I don't know. The knowledge that we cannot use it outside of testing has always been with us.”

“So maybe it’s worth asking this question at your leisure?” asked GhostFace and folded his arms over his chest. He tapped irritably on the rough fabric of his dark clothes with his favorite knife. “That's it, the time for playing question and answer is over. It's time for you to go while I let you go, otherwise...”

There was no need to agree that things would happen differently with you. The floor, covered in red cracks, signifying the destruction of the built world, almost completely swallowed up the memorial institute, and the sound of a beep meant that you only had seconds left. You headed towards the exit through the open gate, but before leaving your informative companion, you turned around to say:

“And GhostFace, I didn’t laugh at you,” the man sighed at your statement and pointedly grabbed the knife, as if preparing for an attack. “They don’t laugh at legends.”

These were your last words before crossing the front gate and leaving the killer with nothing. The latter froze, looking distantly at your back.

“Yes. They don't laugh at legends.”

To be honest, I don’t know why the translator translated the last phrase this way. the original version refers to the history of the ghostface, where he talks about how they don’t laugh at legends (here we go again). I dare to suspect that the sentence written there is in the singular.

#dbd x reader #dead by daylight x reader #dbd xenomorph x reader #xenomorph x reader

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alicechess · 9 months ago

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Yandere The Unknown x reader (part 1)

(Dead by daylight)

Note: don't question this

Also this is going to become a proper fanfic, I have no idea how long. I might connect it to my dbd fanfic.

Also I might edit it to make more sense, a lot of this has been written at 3am. Please ignore any errors they might be fixed at some point.

----

You found a new job a few weeks ago, working at a movie theatre. Honestly, you were kind of happy for it. Although the area was dirty and sticky, you were able to get a discount on the movies and snacks, which made it worth it for you. It isn't something you wanted for the rest of your life, but it was good enough for now. You moved to this new town a few months ago, and previously worked at a wreckers, but quickly moved on since the people working there were sketchy.

One of your old friends suggested to work here and of course you agreed. You got discounts and your friend everyday, she also helped you get the job. But not long after you started she disappeared. It was difficult, and you hoped every night she'd come back. The place hurt to be at sometimes, but maybe one day she'll walk in through the doors with that beautiful smile on her face.

You shook your head, you couldn't think about it now. You can't do anything to get her back. You just had to hope the police would take it seriously. But with the recent disappearances, you doubt they'd focus heavily on her. Within the past month there's been over 10 people who've gone missing. Maybe to them she's just a number. There's a few people who go missing every month. It's just... normal for this town. The police do what they can... I guess. But they never will focus for long on one person, because there's always another who goes within a few days or a week. There's just too many crimes happening that it's difficult to keep track. There's maybe a few thousand people who live there, and maybe two stations. So there needs to be more, but they probably won't bother. It's been the same two for maybe 20 years from what you'd heard.

You vacuumed the crumb covered floor, wiping down the chairs, trying to get it as clean as you could. You wanted to keep this job, at least till you could find something more stable. While mopping the linoleum floors, you listened to some music. You ignored the world around you. It was nice to have a distraction. Although cleaning wasn't a nightmare, you'd prefer not too. Some parts of the cinema was darker, your boss was always insistent on turning off the lights if you aren't in the room. It was a bit unnerving, but eventually you learnt to get used to it. It wasn't exactly welcoming, but it wasn't terrifying either.

Occasionally you'd take off your headphones for a few moments, as your ears started to get sore from the pressure. You wanted to get better ones, but you were in a somewhat small town, and there weren't a lot of electronic stores. It was annoying having the wire in the way, but you learnt how to deal with it. You decided to just let them sit on your shoulders, around your neck. Still hearing the music, although it was quieter. You hummed along, eventually sighing at peoples disgustingness. Was it so hard just to put their rubbish away?

Once the bin was full, you picked it up and went outside. The dumpster was almost overflowing, but it wasn't your job to empty that. You threw the bag on top, trying to prevent it from falling down. Once it was stable, you were about to walk inside when you heard someone voice from in the parking lot.

"Can... can you please help me? I'm stuck!" The voice sounded wrong, it's tone was off as it lacked any emotion behind the words he was saying.

You were about to walk over, but remembered all the disappearances. You felt a loud tinge of guilt. "I'm... I'm sorry I can't! I'll get the police to help." You yelled back.

"P-please I really need help!"

You gulped and stepped back, "I can't, I promise the police will come soon!"

You ran inside slamming the door, hearing the cries begging for help coming closer and closer. You were confused, if they were stuck how were they getting closer... Something wasn't right. The situation made your skin crawl. You ran to the phone which sat on the desk. You dialed the number for emergency services and asked for a police officer. You explained the situation, and made it sound more normal as you didn't want to be labelled crazy. You said it rather simply, that there was someone saying they were stuck but something seemed off and suspicious and you wanted the police to take care of it.

While you waited for the police, you sat on one of the chairs at the front desk, fidgeting while listening to music, trying to prevent yourself from panicking. You wanted to keep level-headed. You sang the song quietly, tapping your fingers on the desk. You laid your head back and closed your eyes. You kept one side of the headphone off your ear, so you could hear the police knocking and let them in.

Once they arrived, they checked the whole building and area surrounding it, eventually finding nothing. They also checked the security cameras which showed only you, nothing else. The footage showed no one in the parking lot or anywhere else.

This made you doubt yourself even more.

Eventually you went home and laid in bed. You struggled to fall asleep as all you could think about was what happened and the fear you felt. You kept replaying it over and over, analyzing any details you could remember. You remembered how off the voice was, how almost inhuman it was.

You brushed it off, maybe it was because of a lack of sleep. You weren't sure anymore. You tried to stop thinking of it because you really needed to sleep. But it kept squeezing through the cracks and coming back into your mind.

Your eyes slowly closed, and your breathing softened. You were so tired, so, so tired. You just wanted to rest.

Eventually, you started to hear light tapping against the window and low whispers of which sounded like it came from hundreds of people. You thought it was just because you were exhausted. It went away after a few minutes, leaving you to think you were right.

However, after tossing and turning for another 30 minutes, you were rustling in the bushes and voices near your bedroom. You shot out of bed, then peered slightly through the crack of the curtains.

You saw a head peeking out of the bushes, the main thing you noticed about the being was it's lifeless, black hole like eyes. It had no emotion and truly seemed inhuman regardless of its humanoid-like stature.

You felt your stomach drop and your heart stopped for a few moments. It twitched its head every few seconds, every time, it made your stomach twist more and more, the anxiety and fear filling you to the brim. You couldn't look away, it was almost hypnotic and left you in an awful trance with its horrifying appearance.

"Can you help me? I'm... Stuck." It said without its face moving. Your eyes widened in utter horror.

"I'm scared, please help me." It said with a loud snap of its neck, finally pulling you out of your trance. You fell onto the ground with a loud thud, you rubbed your back attempting to soothe the pain. After about a minute you got up, and went back to the curtain.

You watched as the legs of the creature disappeared from your line of sight. You weren't sure if you truly saw that, maybe you were truly going insane you couldn't tell anymore.

---

You awoke in a cold sweat to your alarm blaring into your ears. You groaned, turning it off. You didn't remember crawling back into bed, was it a nightmare? You shook it off. It was just because of the fear you felt last night, it just made you bring it into your dreams.

You stood up and got ready. You looked awful, but attempted to fix it with some makeup. You wore some more dramatic makeup, especially around the eyes. You wore some eyeliner, smudged it a little and combed your hair. You then applied some lip gloss and grabbed some random clothes from your closet.

You decided to call your boss. You knew it would be better to tell him yourself than someone else. You made it sound less bizarre and brushed it off. You didn't want to lose any shifts if he thought you needed a break.

After attempting to cover the tremble in your breath as you explained the situation, you walked to your car and headed to work. You've been taking longer shifts to earn more money. You would've left earlier yesterday if you could've but apparently that... Thing had to show up.

You stepped out of the car, the harsh winter wind making you shiver. You felt ill as you walked to the door. You had to go in though, you knew there was no other choice.

You took a deep breath and opened the door, you were swapping shifts with one of your coworkers. Your shifts often start from 6pm to 12am. The theatre often closes at 10pm, which then gives you a couple hours to do some cleaning. Sometimes you do have to stay overtime, however, which can be a bit frustrating.

As you stepped inside your coworker greeted you. Another one was working as the cashier, which you also did but in between movies you gave a quick clean to the theatre room. The other coworker leaves at 10pm, which then leaves you alone in the building.

You plopped down next to them at the register, asking how busy it was.

They sighed, scratching the back of their head. "Surprisingly, not many. A lot of people are too scared to come down this way."

"Huh? Why?"

"I'm surprised you don't know. Last night there was another disappearance nearby. The police are on high alert and people are freaking out."

"How'd they figure out they disappeared so quickly? Doesn't it normally take longer?"

"Well... It makes more sense when you know that there were screams at 2am coming from their house."

"I guess so... Sucks knowing I'm gonna be in this creepy place in the middle of the night." You grumbled, leaning back on the chair.

"Better you than me man, I'd rather quit than do that shit."

"Wow so comforting of you, thanks." You rolled your eyes, drawing on a random piece of paper to distract you.

"Yeah yeah, at least I'm being truthful! Honestly it's kinda shitty boss is still telling you to continue your shift.

"Ehh, it's fine. I need the money anyway, so the more hours the better."

"Your time not mine, just keep an eye out."

"Was planning on doing that. Also, do you think boss is going to be more of a tight ass? I hate having to have half the place pitch black while cleaning. Not the safest or efficient way to do it."

"I'm sure more people will come in the next few weeks, let's just hope the next disappearance is further away."

"I can pray, maybe god will damn help me this time." You murmur, tapping the pencil against the desk.

----

Very few people came in, only maybe 20 compared to the normal 100 or more. It meant you had less to clean, so maybe... You'll be able to leave earlier. And won't have to be in this uncomfortable place anymore. You can only pray.

As the shift passed, some people were on edge, but overall seemed fine. One child must've overheard about what happened recently, as they were scared, their eyes wide, they grabbed their mothers arm and attempted to pull them away from this place.

The mother rolled her eyes, saying they were safe since it was daylight.

"Monsters don't come out during the day, darling. You'll be fine. And there's other people here, they'll make sure to protect you." She leans down and pats her daughter on the head. "I promise you'll be okay sweetheart, it's just a movie theatre."

----

As night crept in, you started to slowly dread being there more and more. It started to slowly consume your thoughts, of what could potentially happen if you were left alone once more in this building. You hoped that since there wasn't as many people, you had more of a chance of being able to clean faster. And therefore, be able to leave earlier.

As your coworker left and put the closed sign up, you felt your stomach sink. You were sure that you were fucked. But what else could you do? You had to do your job. You had to do it regardless of what you wanted.

You went to the janitors closet, pulling the strings which turned the light on. It was rather claustrophobic. Dust had built up after what seemed like years of not being cleaned. You grabbed the vacuum and left the closet, and went over towards the front desk. You started there, and moved towards the movie room then upstairs. You were hyper aware of your surroundings, you couldn't help but feel on edge after last night. Every tap on the windows or hum of the electricity made you feel sick.

Once you were done vacuuming, out started to mop the floors. You wanted to listen to music, but you were afraid of not hearing if someone was lurking inside. You wanted to know what was happening around you.

After you did the basics, you sat down for a bit and wondered if you could get away with leaving the theatre like this. It's not like your boss comes in everyday.

You eventually decided to leave the place as is, you didn't feel safe being in there any longer. You instantly grabbed your handbag, but noticed your keys were missing and so was your phone... And wallet.

You felt bile instantly run up your throat. That awful feeling of knowing you were truly at another's mercy started to suffocate you. You panicked, looking under the desk, in the janitor's closet... Nothing. It was nowhere. You attempted to calm yourself down, saying you just misplaced it. That's all you did. There was nothing lurking around the corner watching your every move waiting to pounce and kill you.

You were fine. Just fine.

How the hell was everything missing? There's no way it all fell out when it was closed, and that it's been in the same spot since you got here.

You rushed around the building, searching everywhere for your stupid belongings. And in the middle of the already awful experience, you started to hear tapping on the windows. It was slow and intentional.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

You went over towards it, moving the curtains. Nothing was there, but the bushes did move slowly. Those same, dead eyes pearing at you. That's when you realised everything you've witnessed was real.

Something was after you.

And you had no idea what the fuck it was, it definitely wasn't human. No humans neck twists like that, no human has the void-like holes, where no ounce of light can go through.

It slowly crept out of the bush, it's mangled limbs moving in unnatural, inhuman positions as it came towards the window.

It has already came in before, why the fuck was it trying to come in again? It could come in before, what now? Was there more than one? What did it want? Did it just get off on scaring you?

You stepped back, feeling like how you did the night before.

"No... No no. No." You murmured, grabbing the phone that hung on the wall. You attempted to dial the emergency services, but the lines were down. You shook your head, you had to have something to defend yourself from that... Thing. All these awful thoughts came into your mind. Of what it could do, of what it wanted.... And what it's true form was.

You heard popping sounds from the other side of the window.

"Can... You help me?"

Those distorted voices sent a shiver down your spine. That unnatural, disgusting sound.

You slowly glanced over your shoulder at the monster. It had the most awful, disgusting grin which showed all its teeth. It's disfigured head and body contorted as it started to tap on the window again.

"I... Need your... Help."

It said as it cocked its head.

"I am... Scared." It's mouth twitched wider. Both it's hands were placed on the window. Its face squished against it.

"I'm so scared."

If the situation wasn't serious, you would've laughed at the irony.

"Stay away from me!"

You yelled, grabbing a pair of scissors from the drawer. You pointed it towards the creature, even though you knew it was futile.

"Stay away from me!"

It mimicked, the dread which formed was sickening. It... Said the same thing. The two voices at once made it even more horrifying. The distorted sound triggered you more. It said things which were already unnerving, but it mimicked you in your tone, just slightly distorted was utterly mortifying. The fear you felt that night here and at home could never compare to this.

You decided that you had to get far away from this thing. You couldn't sit there forever, even another second was enough to make you want to crawl into a hole and rot. A being like that shouldn't exist.

You ran up the stairs, you felt it's... Sockets following your figure, analysing every movement. You went into the bathrooms and slammed the door shut. You locked the door, then moved over to the window. You glanced outside, and saw that it was clear.

You heard fast, but light footsteps coming from outside. You knew it was toying with you. You knew it enjoyed the chase and it made you feel sick.

The tapping continued once more, but this time at the bathroom door.

"I'm scared... Why won't you help me?"

"What do you want from me?!" You screamed back, tears welling up in your eyes as you stared at the door.

"I'm stuck."

The more you listened to it, the more its voice sounded normal and close to human. You rapidly shook your had, murmuring to yourself.

"No, no this isn't happening."

It sounded so normal, its panic was so evident and felt real. Earlier it didn't, what was going on?!

You felt dizzy, your vision started to become slightly blurry. You collapsed onto the ground, in front of one of the bathroom stalls.. Your head thumped, the pain made you groan. You knew you had to get out, that's the only thing you could do. You weren't sure what was going on anymore. You had to get out.

You slowly stood up, holding onto the edge of the stall. You moved towards the window, contemplating how you were going to get down. There were bushes underneath, but you knew you were screwed if you landed wrong. There were no other options unless you wanted to face that thing. You slowly opened the window, attempting to be quiet just in case the... Thing will hear. To your relief it made no noise. You slowly placed your legs over, holding onto the edge tightly. You took a deep breath then pushed yourself off.

You groaned as your body hit the floor hard, causing pain to radiate through you. you groaned, knowing your body was going to be covered in bruises. You hissed as you slowly sat up. You brushed the twigs off of your shirt, then used the brick wall to attempt to help yourself up. You moved around the outside of the building, attempting to be quiet.

You knew you couldn't use your car, you had no idea how to hotwire it. The only option you had was to walk home, well, better run.

You started to sprint away, ignoring every aching muscle and joint. You gritted your teeth as you forced your legs to move. You occasionally glanced over your shoulder, and to your relief, saw nothing there. You started to slow down when you felt safer since you were further away from that thing.

You leaned over, placing your hands on your knees as you took deep breaths. You felt dizzy, but knew you had to get home. After a minute, you started to walk again. As you walked down the street, occasionally you spotted cars driving by or the really odd person or two walking by. You always held the scissors tight, regardless of how much it dug into your skin.

Eventually, you got to your home. You searched your pockets for your keys, then remembered you lost them at the theatre. You hoped that thing wouldn't find them. You went to the backyard and grabbed them from under one of the pots. You unlocked the door, then went inside.

You placed some chairs behind the front and back door under the handle. You then slipped the latch so unlocking wouldn't work. You made sure you did everything you could to prevent the thing from coming inside.

You felt relieved once you glanced around knowing that you were safe.

So you could finally have a good sleep, you went to have a warm shower. You washed away all the dirt from your skin, watching as the dirt slowly went down the drain. You sat in the warmth, soaking up the comfort from it for as long as you can. You sat in the shower for a while till the hot water ran out, forcing you to go back into the cold. Reminding you of the bitter reality you'll have to face eventually.

You got dressed then went to the kitchen, grabbing a knife from the utensil drawer. You tapped the point, dragging your finger across the blade. You wanted to make sure it'd actually be useful if you needed to defend yourself.

You locked your bedroom door, making sure the latch would be strong enough to keep anything out. The hairs on your skin were constantly standing. Every shadow and movement puts you on edge. Your own home didn't make you feel safe, only the slightest bit safer than if you were to be outside.

You walked over to your bedside drawer, then placed the knife on top of it.. You left the lamp which sat beside you on. You pulled open one of the draws and grabbed one of your old alarms since your phone was lost.

You haven't used it for so long it took a while to figure it out. Once you set it, you laid down in bed. You stared at the ceiling, getting dragged into your thoughts. You occasionally focused on shadows that danced on your walls, wondering if one of them will ever be the creature which tortured your emotions hours before.

----

#yandere x reader #yandere the Unknown #yandere dbd #yandere #the unknown x reader #the unknown #dbd x reader

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nvoirs · 2 years ago

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𝐍𝐞𝐨'𝐬 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 ✎

THIS ACCOUNT IS MY ONLY BLOG. ANY OTHER ACCOUNTS CLAIMING TO BE ME IS IMPERSONATING AND MUST BE REPORTED IMMEDIATELY.

https://ko-fi.com/nvoirs I only do paid requests now.

Hi I'm Neo, I'm 19. I currently write for resident evil, Ada and Leon only. Ada hate will not be tolerated, any trolls or antis will be blocked immediately. Yes you won't even be replied to.

These are all my current works so far, this will be updated regularly and pinned to my blog for easy access. If the work is nsfw it'll have a little ღ next to the title. Here are my current WIPS. Also I only write for female reader because that's what I'm comfortable with.

DO NOT send me duplicate asks. what is that? for example if someone sends me a detailed request but then sends that same request to another writer. It's unfair for me and that other writer so just don't please.

What I write for:

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

Will: dubcon, angst, vampires, any kind of knife/gun play, stepcest, hybrids, somnophilia, some dead dove stuff, basically anything that isn't in the won't section.

Won't: water sports, anything to do with faeces or vomit, pedophilia, underage reader, werewolves/alpha stuff, Pure incest with blood relatives.

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

𝗥𝗲𝘀𝗶𝗱𝗲𝗻𝘁 𝗲𝘃𝗶𝗹:

Leon S. Kennedy ✧.*

Death of me ღ

At the bar ღ

Back to business ღ

Caught on ღ

Letting of steam ღ

Angry sex with Leon ღ

Leon's little pet ღ

Leon takes care of sick you

Plagas Leon ღ

Plagas Leon Pt 2

Handcuffed ღ

Leon's glasses ღ

Taking your virginity ღ

Jealous Leon ღ

Mourning you

Giving him a bj ღ

After party ღ

Soft sex ღ

Leon comforting you after a nightmare

Comforting sex ღ

Leon throat fucking you ღ

Lactating kink ღ

Yandere Leon ღ

Co-worker leon ღ

Leon's a munch ღ

ꔫ

Drabbles/ headcanons ✧.*

Homewrecker Leon ღ (mentions of sex)

DBD Ghostface Leon

Officer Leon Kennedy ღ

Dom Re6 Leon x dom reader ღ

Cherry bomb ღ

nerd Leon ღ

ꔫ

Ada Wong ✧.*

How did it start? ღ

ꔫ

2023 Kinktober masterlist (Discontinued!)

Here

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nicomaxx13 · 2 months ago

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Introduction

Hello! My name is Nico. I'm 23 years old at the time this post is posted, birthday being on November 14th. I'm genderfluid and go by any pronouns. I'm an occasional artist, drawing mostly original characters I create. I will be obnoxiously posting them here and writing little stories about them. I'll make a list for each character. I also write fanfics, although I'm new to it. I don't know if there will be much x reader fics, as I like to insert original characters into my stuff hehe.

Fandoms I will write for:

Anything horror related, such as Friday the 13th, Nightmare on Elm Street, Saw, DBD, and others

The Marvel Universe, mostly the Avengers and those movies

Lord of the Rings/The Hobbit (Some of my ocs reside in that type of fantasy)

Final Fantasy

Devil May Cry

Pirates of the Carribean

Disney (all fics in this will be sfw)

Resident Evil

Red Dead Redemption

DNI's:

Homophobes, racists, minors, anything hateful related

What I Will Write:

SFW

NSFW? (I've always been picky with it)

Headcanons

Full on Fics

Little Stories

Fluff

Angst

What I Will NOT Write:

Incest, Pedophilia, underage

Lists:

Original Characters

#introduction #fanfic #writing #original character #original art #horror #marvel #lord of the rings #the hobbit #final fantasy 7 #devil may cry #pirates of the caribbean #disney #resident evil #red dead redemption 2

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bosinclairsgff · 1 year ago

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Requests Rules <3

Hey everyone, I want to get back into writing fanfiction and stuff like that! So here are my request rules and other important things to know! (I used to only write on Wattpad so I'm new to using Tumblr pls be nice <3)

Requests: open

Will do

Hurt x comfort

Fluff

Head cannons

Sometimes mentions of abuse, kidnapping, murder or sh (there will be trigger warnings)

Light angst

Drabbles

Characters hurting the reader (there will be a tw)

Reader with depression or anxiety

NSFW

Won't do

Pregnant reader

Child reader

Parent reader

x male, ftm, mtf or poly reader (I am not qualified to write about those as I have no experience involving them)

Characters I will write for

Halloween: RZ Micheal Myers, Corey Cunningham

Amusement: The Laugh

The Boy: Brahms Heelshire

Texas Chainsaw Massacre: Nubbins Sawyer, Bubba Sawyer(platonic only),Thomas Hewitt, Chop Top Sawyer, Drayton Sawyer, Vilmer Sawyer

Scream: Stu Matcher, Billy Loomis, Amber Freeman, Sydney

Friday The 13th: Jason Voorhees

House Of Wax: Bo Sinclair, Lester Sinclair, Vincent Sinclair

Saw: Amanda Young, Mark Hoffman

House Of 1,000 corpses: Otis Driftwood, Baby Firefly

American Psycho: Patrick Bateman

Child's Play: Tiffany Valentine

The Black Phone: The Grabber/Albert Shaw

The Collector: Arkin

Silent Hilld/DBD: Pyramid Head

Carrie: Carrie White

Ghost Ship: Jack Ferriman

Thirteen Ghosts: Dennis Rafkin

The Shining: Jack Torrance, Wendy Torrance

The Invitation: Walter Deville

Midnight Mass: Father Paul

The funhouse massacre: Doll face

A nightmare on Elm Street (2010) : Quentin Smith

My Bloody Valentine 3-D: Tom Hanniger

Don’t breathe: Norman Nordstrom

The Purge Anarchy: Leo Barnes

Midsommer: Pelle

Thanksgiving: Sheriff Eric Newlon

Leather face (2017) : Jedediah Sawyer

American horror story : Kai Anderson, Kit Walker, Patrick March

Jennifer’s Body : Jennifer Check

Re- animator: Herbert West

Jeepers Creepers: Darry Jenner

Grave Enconters: Lance Preston, Alex Wright

The Dare: Credence, Dominic

31: Doomhead

Longlegs: Dale Kobble, Lee Harker

Trap: Cooper Adams

CREEP: Josef

DO NOT INTERACT WITH MY ACCOUNT IF YOU ARE

Homophobic

Fatphobic

Transphobic

Racist

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maccaronimassacre · 2 months ago

Note

I thought about Dead by Daylight and how most Resident Evil characters are in it (all the popular ones). If Ethan was in Dead by Daylight (as far as I'm aware of, he's not in the game), what moves would he have? Would you be willing to make a bot where Ethan is in Dead by Daylight?

I'm still surprised they haven't done an RE:7 or 8 collab with DBD, not just because of Ethan and maybe even a survivor costume for Mia, but Jack Baker and Lady Dimitrescu as killers seems insanely marketable.

In terms of perks, I think Ethan would have more of a focus on his healing factor and survivability but not for himself but for other survivors. Unlike most horror protagonists, Ethan in both 7 and 8 doesn't look to escape, but looks to rescue and save the people around him, willing to sacrifice himself in the process to save Mia and Rose. He even goes out of his way to save others to along the way like Zoe and Elena. I think one could be that if the killer hits a survivor within a certain radius of Ethan, he takes the hit instead. 2 - when unhooking a survivor, there's a chance that that survivor will instantly be back at full health, or the same for Ethan if Ethan unhooks himself (could be a little nod to the chamber scene in Castle Dimitrescu). For his last perk it could have something to do with his block ability (keeping in mind that block/guard is a unique mechanic to Ethan in the RE universe) and could work like Dead Hard. Anyway, enough rambling, let me know what you think!

Ethan Winters x Reader

Ethan couldn’t pinpoint exactly when the shift happened. One moment, he was running through the grand, opulent halls of Castle Dimitrescu, the next, he found himself in crumbling corridors littered with broken glass and plaster. The icy chill of carved stone and gilded doors he had grown somewhat accustomed to had given way to rusted scrap heaps and junkyards. Even the campfire flames before him offered little warmth against the oppressive fog that clung to everything, whisking him from one twisted nightmare to the next. He let out a bitter laugh, tugging his jacket tighter around his body. His eyes drifted from the dim embers of the fire to the thick, rolling fog that crept along the ground, weaving through the trees like it was alive. “This is just my luck. Of course this has to happen to me.” As he watched, the mist parted for a moment, the swirling tendrils peeling away to reveal something, or rather, someone. Someone Ethan hadn’t seen before in this strange, nightmarish realm.

#Ive been thinking about it since I made my Leon one #I would redownload dbd if they made Ethan a survivor though #ethan winters x reader

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r3dkn0ts · 2 years ago

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WELCOME to THE R3DKN0TS BLOG

🔞 !! DO NOT PROCEED PAST THIS POINT IN THIS POST OR MY BLOG IF YOU ARE UNDER 18 !! 🔞

Now that that's out of the way, I'm Matty ( @r3dr0pe ) and this is my 18+ Dead By Daylight / Slasher reader-insert blog! I used to run one of these years ago, and I just got the itch to come back to write some more. Below the read more break will be my rules, masterlist, and more!

RULES

Sources I write for - Dead By Daylight ( obviously ) - The Texas Chain Saw Massacre 1974 - Halloween 1978 + 2018 - A Nightmare on Elm Street 1984 - Friday The 13th 1980 + 1981 - Scream 1996 - Silent Hill 1 + 2 - Resident Evil 2 + 3 + 7 + 8 - Dead Rising 1 + 2 + 3 - Outlast 1 + 2 + Whistleblower - All Five Nights At Freddy's games + movie

I will write - Headcanons ( up to 3 characters x reader ) - Short imagines ( up to 3 characters x reader ) - Gender-neutral readers ( no specific genitalia ) - Non-binary, FtM, and MtF readers ( please specify any preferences for anatomical terms or gendered language ) - Cis male readers - Kinky shit ( read here for more info )

I will not write - Anything I'm not comfortable with / on my "no" list here - Fanfics ( just don't have the energy for it most of the time ) - Underage characters or readers ( even if platonic ) - Pregnant characters or readers ( breeding kink is fine! ) - Non-consensual romance or sex - Cis female readers

DBD KILLER MASTERLIST

DBD SURVIVOR MASTERLIST

MISC. HORROR MASTERLIST

#dead by daylight imagines #dead by daylight x reader #slasher x reader #dbd imagines #slasher imagines #michael myers x reader #bubba sawyer x reader #jason voorhees x reader #the trapper x reader #the wraith x reader #the hillbilly x reader #lgbt reader #male reader #trans reader #gender neutral reader

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forgottenvale667 · 2 months ago

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Shot to the Heart (Deathslinger x Reader)

Content warnings: obsessive behavior, murder (it's a DBD fic), violence, profantiy, alcohol, kidnapping

Requested by Airmanon - Wattpad

You had been in the Entity's realm for a while now when a new survivor and killer arrived to the realm. The survivor was the first you met, introducing herself as Zarina Kassir. Her first match would not be with you however, as you went to the campfire to find Ace, Laurie, and Nancy would be your teammates.

You and Ace enter the trial in the same location. The sub-realm had a Wild West theme. Is the new killer a cowboy? Anyway, you are near a generator so Ace gets on it.

A gun shot rung across the location and Nancy screamed. You went stiff, beads of sweat rolling down your face. Ace didn't stop or make any sound and a peak at his face revealed he was doing his best poker face. So the new killer is a cowboy with a gun... Another scream could be heard, signaling Nancy had been put on a hook. Nearby, too. Your heartbeat grew in volume and speed. A generator was completed across the map and then... BANG!

You had been shot and were being pulled toward the killer. You finally got a good look at him. He definitely was a cowboy, but he also had glowing eyes, face injuries, and gray hair. An old cowboy for sure. He also in general seemed like a shambling corpse. Ace finished repairing the generator you two were repairing as you ran from the killer. You had dodged the next shot before dropping a pallet and running into a building. The building resembled a saloon and once you were inside, you hid. As your heartbeat calmed, a generator was fully repaired.

You started repairing a generator on the second floor of the building as Nancy screamed once more, indicating she had been previously rescued but was back on the hook. After a moment she screams again. Her final scream as she is carried up by the Entity. You didn't need to see it to know it was happening, you'd seen it time and time again. You had gotten a little more progress repairing the gen when Ace screamed. Another generator was completed.

A gunshot nearly misses you but Laurie stands between you and the cowboy, accepting to be chased as you go and save Ace. After healing Ace, you head back to the saloon with him to repair the generator. It had been kicked. Laurie was hooked. You make your way to the first floor and out of the saloon, running to save Laurie. As you did, Ace screamed again. Laurie goes to the generator in the saloon as you go to unhook Ace once again. Just in time, as that is when Laurie finishes the generator. However, Laurie is quickly hooked after that. As Ace saves her, you start opening the exit gate. Ace goes on the hook for the last time and is sacrificed. Laurie runs over to the gate and you get shot just as you're about to open it. Laurie runs over and opens it, but she was too late as you were being hooked. In desperation, Laurie unhooks you only to take your place. She is sacrificed as you run out of the exit gate. You survived, but at what cost?

As you healed in your tent, that cowboy's laugh played in your head repeatedly. He terrified you... but then, shouldn't all the killers? And yet... there was just something about him so much worse. You felt in your gut something was going to happen.

Things had gone on the same after that, you hadn't gone against the cowboy in a while but the others had. Even so, whenever you slept, you ended up having nightmares about him. Thankfully not Freddy level nightmares, but nightmares none-the-less. You hoped you wouldn't go against him too often. But then you started matching against him every trial. He would always tunnel you and camp at your hook. He wouldn't do that to any other survivor. Did he have something against you? Then you started being put in the Dead Dawg Saloon in between trials instead of your tent.

You tried confronting him about it, "Why do I always end up here?!?!?" At first, he wouldn't answer until one day...

"BECAUSE YOU'RE MINE!"

"Your's? How am I your's?"

"You're beautiful/handsome and tough. You always escape in trials with me. You're perfect." You didn't respond. He caressed your cheek, "I'm always thinking about you, and you think about me don't you?"

"I... I need to think." You run off and hide in a bush somewhere. He didn't follow. You wanted to cry, but the Entity had other plans for you. A trial against The Shape. And he didn't give you the attention The Deathslinger did, not that you minded. It was probably a good thing. You were the last to die, but he mori-ed everyone. You hated when he brought Tombstone and the hair.

After the trial, you were back in your tent but you felt like you were being watched. Your next trials were all free from The Deathslinger. You hadn't really made friends but you needed a friend to get your mind off The Deathslinger, so you started talking to Dwight. He was in all your trials anyways. But you couldn't help but feel like you were being watched...

Your next trial was against The Deathslinger and your teammates were Dwight, Zarina, and Min. You and Dwight spawned near eachother and started repairing a generator when you started hearing the heartbeat. That's when you knew it was him, but he ignores you and went searching for Dwight. By the time Dwight had been hooked, 3 generators were completed. You went for the save but he stopped you, holding you back. He held your head by the chin from behind to face Dwight. His other hand was firmly on your left shoulder.

"What is he to you?"

"M-my friend!" The last generator was completed seconds after the one prior.

"Wrong answer." He one hit downed you. Exposed No One Escapes Death. Your teammates hurriedly opened the gate and were chased out. You watched Dwight die on the hook. The cowboy never returned to hook you, leaving you to bleed out. Everything went black.

You awake behind the bar in Dead Dawg Saloon with your arms and legs bound with rope. You weren't gagged, so you tried chewing the rope around your arms. Once they were free, you used them to untie the rope around your legs. As your ran out of the saloon from the entrance behind the bar, your heard thuds, the sound of footsteps as he entered the building. You went to hide in a corner of the map and hid behind a wall before you burst into tears. You tried to be as quiet as possible so he wouldn't hear you.

He sat with his head on the table as he drank the liquid in his glass. You weren't going to return his affections, he didn't expect you to. Then you entered the saloon. He immediately perked up and looked at you. Your motions were slow and drawn at as you sat at the table with him.

"Y/N..."

"I will stay, but please don't tie me up again."

He looked into your eyes angrily, "I gave you space to think and you took that opportunity to get all close with Dwight of all people!"

"He's just a friend, believe me."

"Just a friend? You were going to him every opportunity you got, I saw!"

You spoke calmly, not trying to argue, "So you were spying on me?"

"Maybe I was!"

"You know what, I don't care. What are you drinking anyways?"

He calmed down, "It's whiskey." You take his glass and chug it. He stands up, "What was that for?" You shrugged, not telling him you would rather be drunk than fully aware of your current situation. The cowboy leaned in so his face was inches away from your's. "You're cute." You looked away. That's when you both got pulled into a trial.

You made sure throughout the trial that he didn't see you. You did not enjoy being around him and definitely did not enjoy knowing that you'll have to see him after. Claudette was now on a hook, you rescued her. Then David was on hook, then Claudette again, then Min. They had all been downed close to the same time. Luckily, you managed to save David who saved Min while you saved Claudette again. By the end of this, you ended up being the last one left alive and escaping through the hatch.

Later still, he was sent into a trial without you. You cried with a smile on your face and sang softly to yourself. The words were chosen as you went, you didn't feel like singing a real song right now. Sometimes you did, but right now you did not. "I am alone... I miss the world. My life, my friends. Now, stuck here, he breathes down my neck. I just want to be free!" You would do this whenever you were alone.

Then, you had been pulled into a trial without the cowboy, whom you now knew to be named Caleb. The killer this time was Legion, Frank specifically. All of the survivors, including you, ended up being moried. When you returned to the saloon, Caleb noticed your wounds and seem surprised.

"So you were killed in that last trial?"

Your tone was grim, "Moried..." He hummed in response. You went to your corner and he did not follow. You started singing. The song was Here's Your Perfect by Jamie Miller.

"But you won't see me break, call you up in three days. Oh send you a bouquet saying it's a mistake. Drink my troubles away, one more glass of champagne. And you know I'm the first to say that I'm not perfect and you're the first to say that you want the best thing but now I know a perfect way to let you go. Give my last hello, hope it's worth it. Here's your perfect." Little did you know, you had gotten carried away and he heard your voice. It was beautiful, more so than anything he had ever heard in his life. He was beckoned by your voice, mesmerized by its charm.

"Oh my dear Y/N, you have the voice of an angel!" You jumped when you heard his voice, face going completely red. He looked into your eyes for a moment before pulling you into an embrace.

Maybe you could give him a chance.

#valen fanfic #yandere #profanity #violence #dead by daylight #caleb quinn #the deathslinger

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anotherrickinthewall · 2 years ago

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Play like grown-ups

A/N:

Hello lovely people!

I've had this fic sitting in my WIPs way too long... I've wanted to write more but yeah well. I devour smut like there's no tomorrow but I seemingly can't write it. Because every time it gets real spicy my brain is like 'LOL... Nope.'

Oh and as English isn't my first language, please excuse any cringe phrases or mistakes. No one read it beta (I only use Word for the gravest grammar mistakes).

☠☠☠ indicates a shift of perspective (from reader to Frank and vice versa)

So here we have

Pairing: Frank Morrison x fem!reader (I gave her a name and a tiny background, it's kinda easier for me to write and I tried to keep the description of physical features to a minimum)

CW: fem!reader / fem!body, knife play, breath play, smut, blood, general Dead by Daylight themes (violence, death, torture),BDSM stuff, dom!Frank/sub! reader and I think that's about it, maybe name calling (Sweetheart, darling, etc.)

Credit for those awesome pictures goes to the people who created them, so if you know any artist of those give me a holler I'll credit them properly! I don't own any of the pictures or DbD characters.

NO MINORS BELOW THE CUT! THANKS!

The dizziness from being thrust into this weird realm was enough to make her stagger and falter in her steps even though she was just standing and coming back to her senses. She was becoming aware that she wasn't at the campsite she had been with her best friend just a few seconds ago. At least it felt like a few seconds. In truth she didn't have the slightest idea how much time had passed.

Taking in her surroundings, she noticed that she was standing in the middle of a yard that seemed like it came straight out of a nightmare. Caved in stonewalls and rugged pathways indicating that they were once part of a bigger construction.

Lifting her gaze, she squinted through the mist gathering around her. There was a castle like building to be seen, the top burned off and debris littering the ground around it. She slowly started walking in the direction of the main building, her head twitching left and right every five seconds. A strange twist in her gut told her to keep her mouth shut and keep going. She desperately hoped to find other people who shared her predicament. There had to be other people around. There just had to be.

She entered the building at the corner of the remnants of a conservatory, when a strange sound reached her ears. Some sort of mechanical whirring accompanied by the buzzing of sparks. Slowly following the sound, she found a man kneeling in front of a diesel fuelled generator.

"Oh god finally!" but she recoiled when the man flinched so hard that the wires, he was working on, touched the wrong way and exploded straight in his face. "Fuck!" he cussed and dragged his hand over his face. "Damn girl, you really scared the living daylights out of me. Fuck me!" he exclaimed once more.

She felt bad for scaring him like this. "Man. I'm so sorry... I thought you heard me. I woke up and I don't know how I got here. Do you know what's going on?" she asked him hopefully. He turned around and let his head drop against the generator. A skull tattoo with flames around it was to be seen on his throat. For a moment he kept his eyes shut and took a deep breath.

It gave her time to take in his appearance properly. The sand-coloured hair was down in the back but the front part was fluffed up and slightly curved. Almost like a bedhead. A square jaw and sharp cheekbones made him dangerously good looking but the one thing that topped the look off, were the snake bite piercings adorning his lower lip on which he was chewing nervously.

He released another harsh breath and stood up. Muscled thighs bulged beneath the somewhat rugged looking dark jeans. His shoes looked like they'd been dragged through a puddle of blood. When he spoke, her eyes flitted over a black leather jacket and a dark grey shirt up to stormy blue eyes. He crossed his arms and they seemed to be so massive that the leather was creaking. All in all, nice to look at. "Okay, newbie. As far as I figured we have to get enough of these gens here going to power up exit gates to flee the grounds. There are other survivors to help. Four, I think. But beware there's a killer on the loose to kill all survivors. Why or how... I can't answer. The last thing I learnt is that all these realms are ruled by the Entity.' It sounded so strange that she was inclined to chalk his information up as batshit crazy but a tiny voice inside her head warned her that there was a certain truth to his words. Either way he was all she had at the moment and being together definitely beat being alone in this weird ass environment.

So together they looked for the next generator to repair and during their search she learned a few details about the mysterious stranger. His name was Frank, striking her as a bit out of date but who was she to judge when her name was a colour. 'Nice to meet you Frank, I'm Roux. Born and raised in lovely Louisiana.', shaking his hand she noticed how his gaze lingered on her face. She also learned that he was a drop out from Ormond, a tiny town in Ontario. Nothing but snow most of the year and an abandoned ski resort where he would meet with a few friends to kill the time.

A strange smile flitted across his features and he grabbed her wrist when he saw the four flickering lights of the next gen, high above them, mockingly looking down on them. 'Look... Over there. You keep working on it and I'll go looking for the other survivors.' before she could even protest that she didn't know how to fix it, he was gone. Like a lightning.

For the fifth time the fucking gen exploded in her face. Pulling her navy-blue hoodie over her face she screamed in it as loud as she could. A huge part was the frustration she had, another part was the sheer panic her heart had been causing her on and off now. Every time she'd heard a twig snap and a bush rustle too much her heartbeat would pulse very loudly in her ears. But that went away rather quickly. When another set of poppets finally started moving smoothly, she'd do a little jig but that was interrupted rather harshly when a high pitched, blood curling scream echoed throughout the place. And then she saw it. Boom! Another explosion? No, it sounded way darker and deeper, more like an energy blast she'd seen and heard in Sci-fi movies. The gen exploded once more. Stupid machine she cursed silently. An elderly man ran past her, in tow a masked man with a knife raised high above his head. Another scream, this time deeper and shorter. Surely the guy with the knife got the older man, too. When two people were injured or even worse... That left her and Frank. But he didn't come back and was nowhere to be seen. When the last poppets started moving and the fourth spotlight shone brightly above her head, she took another deep breath and went looking for Frank. In a brisk pace she started looking in the outer shack, lockers and basically everywhere she saw a generator. As methodical as possible she walked in circles, to not miss him in case she didn't look behind a certain corner. With every step she took it unnerved her more. She had a constant thundering heartbeat but she couldn't see anybody.

Once she came into the, what surely used to be the grand auditorium, she was sure she was alone with the killer. Because she neither found him nor any of the other survivors.

Among the aisles of old wooden chairs, she suddenly saw the killer. Bright blue gleaming eyes and a Cheshire grin of crude drawn teeth with blood smeared partially over the eggshell-coloured mask. A dark grey hood hiding most of his features but the rugged jeans looked awfully familiar, the leather jacket he was wearing, too. But she refused to believe that it was him because how could he be survivor and killer at the same time!?

Roux stared at him intently and saw him wiggling his blood dripping knife in his right hand while simultaneously moving towards her.

Until she couldn't confirm if it really was Frank or not, she decided it was her smartest choice to run. Maybe she could hide long enough for this nightmare to end.

So, she turned on her heels and sprinted in the opposite direction, the heavy echo of her own heartbeat continuously following her.

☠☠☠

This new approach for his hunt was priceless. He should thank Susie for that later. Pretending to be a fellow survivor and then hunting them down gave his chase a whole new level. All the adrenalin flooding his veins had him giggling like the maniac he was. He licked his lips, almost tasting her fear. This is what he was born to do. Hunt. Kill. Torture.

Lovely silken hair barely reaching past her shoulders, complimenting her bright eyes perfectly. She was the last victim. And unfortunately, the first who stumbled across his path but she was more than easy on the eyes. In fact, he found her very attractive and the way her pupils were expanding once she got a proper look at him told him the feeling seemed to be mutual. He saw her stumbling over junk lying in the yard. It would have been so easy to finish her right here right now but instead he just used his entity given fury and sprinted past her, slashing her arm and shoulder. The gashes were deep and thick droplets of blood started running down her arm and wrist. He had to be lying to himself if he claimed that this didn't get his dick stirring in his pants. He was still am man after all. A cursed and rageful murderer but still a man. He waited behind a shabby shack that sat in the far corner of the former mental institute. He unclenched his hands several times, waiting for the cramps to pass that always seemed to come when he was using his rage speed. He hated them, they made him feel like an arthritic 80-year-old grandpa. Snap! His head shot up, a sinister smile forming underneath his mask. He tapped against his temple and the eyes in the mask turned from neon blue to a crimson red. It was a tiny feature he added with junk they've found around the Ormond Resort they were forced to stay in while they were not in trials. It was tedious. Always snow, always cold, he sometimes welcomed the blistering heat of the Dead Dawg Saloon or the unbearable humidity of Backwater Swamp.

As soon as the cramps had passed, he leaned and peered around the corner to see Roux frantically covering up her cuts with rugs of her sweater. And by all unholy things in this forsaken realm her baby blue tank top was a sight for sore eyes. "Such a beauty." he whispered quietly to himself before leaning back again, giving her another two minutes to gain her breath. When a relieved sigh reached his ears, he knew it was time for a second round.

So, he started softly padding towards her, knife raised high above his head but when he was within a ten meter radius, she burst into a sprint, dashing in zig zag patterns across the yard. He had to give her credit for that, she was quiet the runner. He chased her for several more minutes across the grounds. She was vaulting through windows, across walls and she even tried to hide herself in one of the many lockers, that were scattered everywhere. But he was so used to survivors hiding in those, that he just had to strain his hearing to figure out which of them she was using. And once he was sure he was standing in front of the right one he pulled the door open, seeing her cowered into the corner. Chest heaving, eyes wide with fear, her lush lips slightly parted with shock and surprise. And yet... She didn't scream, she didn't bolt out of the locker smacking him with the door. No, she just sat there and looked up at him with her round eyes, lips slightly parted. Maybe it was a whole other feeling than shock or fear...

Ramming his knife into the back of the locker, leaning towards her, he spoke softly to her "Are you afraid, gorgeous?" His head cocked to the side, he took a deep breath. And how delicious she smelt. Like a mix between air dried laundry and petrichor. It was like a drug. Actually, it came pretty close to the thrill of hooking a survivor and seeing them being taken by the Entity. She shook her head. "Well, you should better fear me darling, for I am death in this cosy enclosure." he whispered in her ear while tracing the blunt edge of his knife along her chin. A satisfying grin crept across his face as he saw Goosebumps rising over her arms and a slight shiver wracking her body. Her breathing became more laboured and the tiniest of whimpers slipped past her lips. Squinting his eyes, he realised something. She was into this. He wasn't sure if it was his knife, the chase or himself. But if he should take a guess, he would say it's the knife. When he was living in Ormond he had a few girlfriends, nothing too serious and rather short lived but one of the flings he had beside his relationships was so into knifes. He sometimes came undone when Frank was touching him all over with just the knife and nicking him here and there. Fond memories, when his girlfriend at the time was nothing but toxic and exploiting him. So, he fled into a fantasy world where the girl didn't exist and his fling was the window to a better and healthier relationship.

But it ended just the way it started abrupt and nasty just like everything else in Frank's life. And since Nathan broke things up between them, Frank went into rampage mode. He kicked Cathy into the wind and started hanging out with Susie, Joey and Julie. And one thing led to another, people ended up dead and the four of them discovered how good they worked together and how addicting the thrill of a kill was and boom they'd became slaves of the Entity for all eternity.

He was so lost in his thoughts that he didn't realise that Roux had shaken herself out of her stupor. She tackled him with all her might, left shoulder first, aiming for his solar plexus. But despite being so absent he was quick to catch her. Roux groaned. But it didn't sound like an annoyed or frustrated groan more like an invitation for more. "My dear, do I sense something dark underneath that pretty little façade of yours? Do you like being touched by my knife? I bet it gets your little panties wet, that you're being manhandled... Does this turn you on, hm, sweetheart? " He boldly asked. He never was a shy one. Not even at the tender age of 16 when he realised that he was interested in both boys and girls. Whatever piqued his interest. Once he got to know somebody properly, he was quick to being bold, cocky but funny as hell. But in general, his demeanour was an arrogant one. He knew his strength; he knew his looks and he knew that the world was giving zero fucks about his life and so he started doing the same. Only people who stuck around for long enough knew that he was a real softy deep down. But he wore his arrogance and competitiveness like a proud mantle of proof that he didn't need anyone. Strength through pain. That was his motto. And he religiously followed it.

"Now, now little kitten… no need to be a scaredy cat and run. Why don't you spend some quality time with silly old Frank? I can be a lot of fun, I promise."

He saw her eyebrows knit in confusion as she took in his words. "B-but Frank is dead. You monster killed him, like that old man!" she accused him. That provoked a soft chuckle from him "Silly girl. I. AM. FRANK. And to be honest… I've been called a lot of names and monster is like a loving pet name. Call me Satan, call me God. I don't give a damn. In fact, I've managed to convince some to call me God. If you know what I mean…" he trailed off, basking in the disbelieve that settled on her face. She pushed his shoulders but it was futile. "You fucking liar! I don't believe you. The Frank I met was a bright and friendly person. Maybe a bit sceptic but who wouldn't be, in a place like this. And he sure as hell wasn't some sadistic asshole." That somewhat caught him off guard. He hadn't been described like that in ages. It felt good but also very foreign. He pulled the mask off his face. He was gonna show her what the word sadistic really meant.

☠☠☠

He lifted his mask and once again, those blue greyish orbs scanned her face. A look so intense that she didn't know where to look. Roux decided that his boots were the safest spot. But then he lifted her chin with his knife, nicking the soft skin at her throat. A breathless gasp of pain slipped past her lips and his eyes became narrow and dark. They were trapped in this moment, like time itself has ceased to exist. Frank tilted his head slowly down to her lips. Getting closer and closer, so that Roux could make out what he smelled like. A mix between iron and leather and the biting chill of a snowy day. And for a moment she really expected him to kiss her. Their lips were almost touching but suddenly Frank gently twisted his head, so his mouth was right beside her ear and whispered "Let me show you what and I quote 'some sadistic asshole' can do to a pretty girl like you." With those words he turned her around, twisted her arm behind her back and pushed her against the closed locker. "Now be a good girl… and run!"

The second she felt that his warm body wasn't pressing into hers anymore, she started to bolt. Her head a scrambled mess from the intensity of his gaze and the feeling of his bulky body dwarfing her own. And for a split second she thought she missed that warmth. Shaking her head, she kept running. With her heart still beating very loudly it was hard for her to concentrate on where she was going. She realised too late that she was upstairs and that she ran straight into a dead end and the thundering of her heart told her, that Frank was closing in on her. The only opportunity to get a nook for hiding, was the patient room to her right. Desperately trying to keep the panic at bay she took some deep breaths to at least calm herself a bit. The dwindling hope of Frank not seeing her in this room was the only thing keeping her sane. She really dreaded what he would do to her once he found her.

When the first bed was flipped over and flung across the room, Roux knew that her gamble was a lost cause and that she would meet her end in a mouldy, run down room, in a weird ass reality, where she wasn't sure that there would be any escape from. Tucking her head between her knees she still hoped for the impossible.

But the harsh pull of her hair and her head being angled backwards told her, her time was finally over. "Silly little girl. Didn't run, just hid from me. Do you know what happens to silly little girls who don't listen?" Frank asked with a drawl in his voice. Roux only shook her head and waited with baited breath what was next to come.

"Well… silly girls get punished. But..." he paused, letting the silence wash over them "if you listen well and do as I say, you'll get a reward. Do you understand?" he quietly asked. Still too stunned to process everything correctly, she remained quiet. In her peripheral vision she saw Frank cocking his head to the side, his mouth twitching dangerously. The next thing she felt was his knife, slowly cutting through her tank top. Through gritted teeth he repeated his question accenting every word with a flick of his wrist. "I. Said. Do. You. Understand?!" and by the last word, her top slipped open, revealing her lace covered breasts. She nodded heavily. That earned her a tutting from Frank. "No pretty girl. Use your words." and with that he pulled her to a stand, his hand still firmly tangled in her hair. She exclaimed in pain and grabbed his wrist hoping to ease some of the pain. Shoving her against the wall, she cried out "YES! Yes, I understand. I'll be a good girl and do as you say!" seemingly satisfied with her answer, he let her hair go and Roux could finally drop her arms, what caused her tethered top to fall to the ground. She slowly turned around and looked at him. A storm was brewing in his eyes as he said to her "Now, I want you to drop those sporty pants of yours." with a dark and raspy voice. The dynamic that developed between the two of them wasn't exactly new for Roux, she had seen movies, read some books handling this topic and if she was being honest with herself, she'd always fantasized about finding somebody whom she could explore this kind of BDSM practice with. She should be weirded out, more so, freaked out by the whole situation. But doing this with a total stranger, a murderer even, in a weird ass realm, didn't seem so bad because she saw the thrill and excitement in it and she was getting wetter by the minute. She absolutely didn't care how she got here in the first place. Not when she was having someone as powerful and demanding as Frank dominating her so exquisitely. It ticked off all her kinks and fetishes and she knew what to do. So, she stepped out of her black spandex pants and dropped to her knees, looking at his feet again, awaiting his orders.

She heard him inhale sharply, almost like a hiss. He made some tutting noise and she saw his feet shuffle around and stepping back into her field of vision. "Oh sweetheart, black lace on both bra and panties… One could think you're the one seducing me." His voice was dripping with anticipation. As if he couldn't wait to peel those last offending items off her body.

☠☠☠

"Stay put. There is only one more thing to do. And then... We finally can play like grown-ups." he fished a matted coin out of his pocket and whispered into his fist what he needed, then he burned the coin.

Roughly half a minute later a rumbling sound was to be heard and Frank knew the Entity had accepted his oblation. He whispered a quiet thank you and rummaged through the large chest. A soft blanket, some candles, a few ropes, a blindfold and assorted whips were inside. He was quite indecisive when it came to blindfolding people, especially subs he had under his tutelage. For the time being he decided against it, rather curious to test her self-control and to see the fear and lust in her eyes. She still sat obediently at the feet of the bed awaiting his commands.

After placing the candles around the room and beside the bed, he laid down the blanket and tied her a noose around the neck. "Be a dear and lay down on the bed for me, will ya?" he saw the tiny smile tugging at the corner of her lips. He expected her to make a snide comment about the shabby state the room was in or how in the world the blanket was so freaking pink. But surprisingly she remained quiet and climbed on the bed, resuming her kneeling position from a moment ago.

"My dear... It seems you are a bit dense right now. I said lay down. Not kneel. Now I have to punish you." he tutted and pulled the noose slightly tighter around her neck. No real pressure was applied but it wasn't loose either.

Roux's lips parted slightly in a breathless gasp. Apprehension was floating around like the proverbial elephant in the room.

She nodded obediently and lay on her back, her hands digging into the plush material of the bright pink blanket. "This feels so nice. How the hell did you get your hands on such a lush thing?" she wondered aloud. His eyebrow quirked up as he reminded her "My dear, that was your third strike... And that means the sadistic asshole is going to show you what pain means. " As he pulled the noose tighter again. This time he saw her actively swallowing against the knot. Her breath was still flowing but much more laboured than before. Deftly he tied her hands and feet to the bed poles.

He tugged at his knots to test their strength and once he was satisfied, he took off his leather jacket and mask, carefully folding it and laid the mask on top the neat pile. The shoes came off second and once he was barefoot, he swung his leg over her hips and straddled her.

☠☠☠

As soon as his crotch met the apex of her thighs, Roux was done for. The heat seeping through his jeans was more than she could bare as she arched her back off the bed. He just sat there meeting her disbelief with satisfied smugness. "Poor girl, has it been that long since a real man touched you?" he asked, not hiding the lust filled gleam in his eyes. "Yes, sir. Please touch me." His voice was dripping with anticipation "Oh I will... Don't worry." he said while he let his knife wander between the valley of her breasts, ever so gently scraping the skin along his way. He took in her dishevelled state. Her hair wild and unruly like the crown of a fallen angel. Frank was sure she didn't even know how enrapturing she looked right now. He bent down to nip at her neck and delightedly discovered that this was one of her ticklish spots. 'I can't wait to see what other spots make you sing like that.' he whispered as he finally cut her bra open and her gorgeous breasts spilled out. Sitting back on his hunches, he admired her body for a moment.

☠☠☠

She felt him shift his weight, seeing how glossy his eyes were as he stared at her bare upper body. Next, her panty was ripped off and she was completely naked and at his mercy. Her strained breathing was making her lightheaded and electrified her at the same time. While she tried to keep her wits, he did the next thing that made her loose a bit more of her sanity.

He took off his jeans, placed it on the pile in the corner and rose to his full height, broad shoulders outlined by the flickering candles and after Roux caught a glimpse of the well-toned thick thighs, disappearing under stretchy material she thought 'fuck me, this man may be a knife wielding lunatic but fuck he has a body I'd love to ravage.' She heard a low chuckle and icy showers ran down her spine. She had spoken her thought out loud. With firm steps, that resembled the prowling of a wild animal circling its prey, he came closer to the bed again but made a detour to get a riding whip. Once more within an arm length to her, he slowly let the whip caress her body.

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