“What Am I To Do Now?” !Pre-Legion Event!

He looks at the female killer with a hateful bitterness at the “mommy and daddy” bit. One’s in heaven and the other one’s in hell hopefully. Piers walks up to her like he might hit her, but, he doesn’t have that sort of resolve.

“You..”

He looks awful, before turning away.

“You can’t help me”

Admittedly, he’s lost and that’s something he doesn’t need to be reminded of. It hurts and he can’t stop it from hurting. He’s in a place he doesn’t remember seeing before with strange beings like her already on his tail.

“Thanks or whatever…”

He hadn’t meant to act like such a little bitch, but it did good to distance others before they got too close for comfort.

“It’s not safe for you here. To many creeps.”

She crossed her arm infront of her chest and looked disgusted to the side. She knew that she didn’t had to fear anything from the other killers. At least as long she didn’t provoke them. Still she had some bad feelings on a few of them.

“Where’s you realm?”

“It’s not far. Just follow me”

Nerves clench tightly together, the furrowing of two brows to join as one in the arch of anger. This was all just a game and he was playing the part of the fool. Piers wanted to spill where he couldn’t to anyone at home, nor to anyone here, not even his own Legion. It was because of how long ago the incident was. It was because how many times it would play itself in his head. Keep a cool head, before you lose it. He would seethe at this young man before smirking beneath his mask.

“…”

“I’ll only tell you if we make it out of this place alive, how about that?”

No inch of this journalist seemed trustworthy, at least not yet in the eyes of the killer. Piers has no reason to tell him anything anyways, they aren’t friends. His only friends are Frank, Julie, Joey, and Susie. He wouldn’t tell this nobody what he couldn’t even bother to tell them. It wouldn’t be fair, it wouldn’t be right. He’s been interrogated before; this wouldn’t be the place to do him in.

Had he not kept his faith, he might’ve told Sam. Might have. Other than that, he remembers his loyalties and where they lie. That and he has buried the truth deep down where he hopes to never be reminded of it again. The cold blood on the tiled floor still has him sick to this day, but he does not regret it.

“You have not told of this to anybody, have you?” the journalist guessed, unaware of just how right he might have been. His tone changed to a much softer one. It was no longer a question and answer session, but rather an offer of help. “It might bring closure if you do tell somebody. This is not a push, but a simple offer. If you ever do feel like sharing this with another person, I will be here for you.”

“Spare me yer damn pity, I won’t be needing it. All of that shit is old news, heh.. I’m over it already and so are they”

He pulls his jacket closer to himself, already uneasy and just wanting to leave.

“You better hope I don’t fillet you next trial, journalist”

Piers barks with a fake malevolence that acts as the veil of his subtle appreciation. He didn’t know how to express it in a way that wouldn’t make him seem soft. He’s sure most already think that too.

“... but thanks”

Nerves clench tightly together, the furrowing of two brows to join as one in the arch of anger. This was all just a game and he was playing the part of the fool. Piers wanted to spill where he couldn’t to anyone at home, nor to anyone here, not even his own Legion. It was because of how long ago the incident was. It was because how many times it would play itself in his head. Keep a cool head, before you lose it. He would seethe at this young man before smirking beneath his mask.

“…”

“I’ll only tell you if we make it out of this place alive, how about that?”

No inch of this journalist seemed trustworthy, at least not yet in the eyes of the killer. Piers has no reason to tell him anything anyways, they aren’t friends. His only friends are Frank, Julie, Joey, and Susie. He wouldn’t tell this nobody what he couldn’t even bother to tell them. It wouldn’t be fair, it wouldn’t be right. He’s been interrogated before; this wouldn’t be the place to do him in.

Had he not kept his faith, he might’ve told Sam. Might have. Other than that, he remembers his loyalties and where they lie. That and he has buried the truth deep down where he hopes to never be reminded of it again. The cold blood on the tiled floor still has him sick to this day, but he does not regret it.

“You have not told of this to anybody, have you?” the journalist guessed, unaware of just how right he might have been. His tone changed to a much softer one. It was no longer a question and answer session, but rather an offer of help. “It might bring closure if you do tell somebody. This is not a push, but a simple offer. If you ever do feel like sharing this with another person, I will be here for you.”

“Spare me yer damn pity, I won’t be needing it. All of that shit is old news, heh.. I’m over it already and so are they”

He pulls his jacket closer to himself, already uneasy and just wanting to leave.

“You better hope I don’t fillet you next trial, journalist”

Piers barks with a fake malevolence that acts as the veil of his subtle appreciation. He didn’t know how to express it in a way that wouldn’t make him seem soft. He’s sure most already think that too.

“... but thanks”

There he goes again, using that flimsy term “weakness” again. The Legion were efficient in their methods and strong in how quickly they were able to catch up with their prey that had always fled after the first stab; the first bite from their “fangs”. It was nerve wracking as it was invigorating and awful. That life had grown on him with every passing day to come. He’d watch Samuel like a hawk as he goes on with his journalist bullshit and etc. Like he said before

You won’t be getting anything from me.

Until he does with the tempting, the sly response of the recollection from that night. The fear comes rushing back, it comes at him like a train down the tracks on full speed. He was terrified, it made him freeze up beneath the thick skin he had made for himself. But in recent times, he was assured that they didn’t abandon him. They were stolen from him by this Entity and made to play the same game. They didn’t have a choice, they wouldn’t have taken the blame.

His face feels like fire behind the mask, his demeanor changing on a moments notice. His shoulders hunch and he takes a deep breath to calm down. Otherwise he might’ve lashed out on the other. Instead he laughs, something dark and dry on the ears.

“I didn’t think they’d be so cruel as to leave behind one of their own, that and it didn’t look right. The car was still there and there were tracks were grubby sneakers would’ve been. C’mon, you think I’m so dumb to think that they’d go off and do that?”

Careful Piers, your utter fucking rage is showing.

Each word is a hiss of a traumatic child’s seething; because, for the second time in his life, he was vulnerable. The only semblance of friends and his sanity was taken away from him in a heartbeat. He needn’t be reminded of that moment again, and here of all places for that matter

Sam noticed the change in Piers’ body. He was aware that he was stepping on thin ice. It was a delicate topic after all. The survivor was capable of empathy and it was easy for him to realize that it must have been possibly a traumatic experience. Loss of friends, thought of betrayal, fear of being found by the police. Was he taken by the police first or by the Entity? He did not know. Yet.

“I do not think that you are dumb. Your ability to quickly react to the slightest of changes in the body language, the ability to predict your “prey’s” movements, the ability to enter a trial and do it so well only shows your intelligence.” He explained honestly. Because he truly did not think of Piers as stupid. There was no reason to. “But in the moments of high stress, your mind can come up with even the most unreal scenarios. People also act unpredictably in such situations. Your friends could have left the vehicle behind as evidence pointing towards you. Hope that the snow would cover their tracks. It was not a planned crime, you were no killers then, it was easy to lose your cool and do something stupid.”

For a second he paused, observing the other male before him. He did not want to push his buttons and reach his snapping point, he was simply curious to see how the other would react to his words. Plus, if he were to chose them carefully, it was possible to untangle the killer’s tongue and gain more information.

“...”

“I’ll only tell you if we make it out of this place alive, how about that?”

No inch of this journalist seemed trustworthy, at least not yet in the eyes of the killer. Piers has no reason to tell him anything anyways, they aren’t friends. His only friends are Frank, Julie, Joey, and Susie. He wouldn’t tell this nobody what he couldn’t even bother to tell them. It wouldn’t be fair, it wouldn’t be right. He’s been interrogated before; this wouldn’t be the place to do him in. 

He looks at the female killer with a hateful bitterness at the “mommy and daddy” bit. One’s in heaven and the other one’s in hell hopefully. Piers walks up to her like he might hit her, but, he doesn’t have that sort of resolve.

“You..”

He looks awful, before turning away.

“You can’t help me”

Admittedly, he’s lost and that’s something he doesn’t need to be reminded of. It hurts and he can’t stop it from hurting. He’s in a place he doesn’t remember seeing before with strange beings like her already on his tail.

“Thanks or whatever…”

He hadn’t meant to act like such a little bitch, but it did good to distance others before they got too close for comfort.

“It’s not safe for you here. To many creeps.”

She crossed her arm infront of her chest and looked disgusted to the side. She knew that she didn’t had to fear anything from the other killers. At least as long she didn’t provoke them. Still she had some bad feelings on a few of them.

“Where’s you realm?”

He looks at the female killer with a hateful bitterness at the “mommy and daddy” bit. One’s in heaven and the other one’s in hell hopefully. Piers walks up to her like he might hit her, but, he doesn’t have that sort of resolve.

“You..”

He looks awful, before turning away.

“You can’t help me”

Admittedly, he’s lost and that’s something he doesn’t need to be reminded of. It hurts and he can’t stop it from hurting. He’s in a place he doesn’t remember seeing before with strange beings like her already on his tail.

“Thanks or whatever...”

He hadn’t meant to act like such a little bitch, but it did good to distance others before they got too close for comfort.

He looks at the female killer with a hateful bitterness at the “mommy and daddy” bit. One’s in heaven and the other one’s in hell hopefully. Piers walks up to her like he might hit her, but, he doesn’t have that sort of resolve.

“You..”

He looks awful, before turning away.

“You can’t help me”

Admittedly, he’s lost and that’s something he doesn’t need to be reminded of. It hurts and he can’t stop it from hurting. He’s in a place he doesn’t remember seeing before with strange beings like her already on his tail.

"At least let me bring you to the camp. Here are many idiots running around and not everyone of them is as nice as I am."

She switched her grin into a warm smile before she looked into his face. Queeny pulled out a small pocket knife and gave it to him.

He looks up at her and backs away.

“How do I know I can trust you?!”

Trust no one.

It’s what he’s known since then, so why forget it now? What is she plotting? Who is she?

“Just.. Get away from me!”

"I have no weapon on me. You can stab me if you want. I won't do anything"

Her voice was suddenly calm and serious. Now was not the moment for games and she would prefer if the other was in safety by the survivors than near any other killer who was stronger and an bigger idiot than her.

He tosses the knife at her feet before taking off. He’d run away from her even when she proved that she wasn’t a threat. Piers would hold the sides of his arms, grunting despite not having been harmed or injured. It is getting increasingly harder to breathe as he can’t familiarize himself with these surroundings.

Where am I? I can’t— This isn’t..!

He stops after reaching a short distance, clinging to a tree before slowly making it down on his knees.

Queeny was leaning against a tree. She had no problems to keep up with him since the entity gave her Freddy's powers.

"Trust me. I tried many times"

He’d whisper. He could barely get anything out that was louder than that. Piers found that the little bit of a home that he had left would do much better than wherever this was. Right now, he misses living in his house with his mom. Even if his Granparents hardly spoke to him, he was beginning to miss them too.

“Where is this place? Where is here?”

"Good question."

She was still holding his hand and kept two fingers on his pulse. She needed to calm him down.

"It seems that this place exists outside of all we know. Time and space work here different"

“So.. I take it that this is like purgatory?”

He looks at the female killer with a hateful bitterness at the “mommy and daddy” bit. One’s in heaven and the other one’s in hell hopefully. Piers walks up to her like he might hit her, but, he doesn’t have that sort of resolve.

“You..”

He looks awful, before turning away.

“You can’t help me”

Admittedly, he’s lost and that’s something he doesn’t need to be reminded of. It hurts and he can’t stop it from hurting. He’s in a place he doesn’t remember seeing before with strange beings like her already on his tail.

"At least let me bring you to the camp. Here are many idiots running around and not everyone of them is as nice as I am."

She switched her grin into a warm smile before she looked into his face. Queeny pulled out a small pocket knife and gave it to him.

He looks up at her and backs away.

“How do I know I can trust you?!”

Trust no one.

It’s what he’s known since then, so why forget it now? What is she plotting? Who is she?

“Just.. Get away from me!”

"I have no weapon on me. You can stab me if you want. I won't do anything"

Her voice was suddenly calm and serious. Now was not the moment for games and she would prefer if the other was in safety by the survivors than near any other killer who was stronger and an bigger idiot than her.

He tosses the knife at her feet before taking off. He’d run away from her even when she proved that she wasn’t a threat. Piers would hold the sides of his arms, grunting despite not having been harmed or injured. It is getting increasingly harder to breathe as he can’t familiarize himself with these surroundings.

Where am I? I can’t— This isn’t..!

He stops after reaching a short distance, clinging to a tree before slowly making it down on his knees.

Queeny was leaning against a tree. She had no problems to keep up with him since the entity gave her Freddy's powers.

"Trust me. I tried many times"

He’d whisper. He could barely get anything out that was louder than that. Piers found that the little bit of a home that he had left would do much better than wherever this was. Right now, he misses living in his house with his mom. Even if his Granparents hardly spoke to him, he was beginning to miss them too.

“Where is this place? Where is here?”

He looks at the female killer with a hateful bitterness at the “mommy and daddy” bit. One’s in heaven and the other one’s in hell hopefully. Piers walks up to her like he might hit her, but, he doesn’t have that sort of resolve.

“You..”

He looks awful, before turning away.

“You can’t help me”

Admittedly, he’s lost and that’s something he doesn’t need to be reminded of. It hurts and he can’t stop it from hurting. He’s in a place he doesn’t remember seeing before with strange beings like her already on his tail.

"At least let me bring you to the camp. Here are many idiots running around and not everyone of them is as nice as I am."

She switched her grin into a warm smile before she looked into his face. Queeny pulled out a small pocket knife and gave it to him.

He looks up at her and backs away.

“How do I know I can trust you?!”

Trust no one.

It’s what he’s known since then, so why forget it now? What is she plotting? Who is she?

“Just.. Get away from me!”

"I have no weapon on me. You can stab me if you want. I won't do anything"

Her voice was suddenly calm and serious. Now was not the moment for games and she would prefer if the other was in safety by the survivors than near any other killer who was stronger and an bigger idiot than her.

He tosses the knife at her feet before taking off. He’d run away from her even when she proved that she wasn’t a threat. Piers would hold the sides of his arms, grunting despite not having been harmed or injured. It is getting increasingly harder to breathe as he can’t familiarize himself with these surroundings.

Where am I? I can’t— This isn’t..!

He stops after reaching a short distance, clinging to a tree before slowly making it down on his knees.

He looks at the female killer with a hateful bitterness at the “mommy and daddy” bit. One’s in heaven and the other one’s in hell hopefully. Piers walks up to her like he might hit her, but, he doesn’t have that sort of resolve.

“You..”

He looks awful, before turning away.

“You can’t help me”

Admittedly, he’s lost and that’s something he doesn’t need to be reminded of. It hurts and he can’t stop it from hurting. He’s in a place he doesn’t remember seeing before with strange beings like her already on his tail.

"At least let me bring you to the camp. Here are many idiots running around and not everyone of them is as nice as I am."

She switched her grin into a warm smile before she looked into his face. Queeny pulled out a small pocket knife and gave it to him.

He looks up at her and backs away.

“How do I know I can trust you?!”

Trust no one.

It’s what he’s known since then, so why forget it now? What is she plotting? Who is she?

“Just.. Get away from me!”

His face turns scarlet at the kiss given before looking at her with wide eyes. What a bold first move.