#dbd verse

Either way it did not change the fact that he was here now, with this speedy mc lunatic who just barged into his own space in the fog, and fir the first time, Danny was at a loss on what to do. He wasn't used to taking care of others, so he just observed Frank warily out of the corner of his eyes.

Waking up in the morning, Lillie went downstairs in the living section of her Tower, sitting on the couch to drink coffee and look outside, through the panorama windows, at the fog.

Valentines day....

She always felt alone on this day. The last time she celebrated this day came with her alone for almost the whole day until her drunken boyfriend returned late from the bar, waking her up roughly with insults and more.

Do you need something mortal ?

“You know, I didn’t think you liked holidays.”

Wesker sits in the festive room next to the fireplace. He is relaxing on the couch and reading a book. It's a book about geology. Someone enters the room and approaches him, but he's busy finishing that one sentence and doesn't look up. A very familiar laugh. Chris...

Wesker sits up and closes the book. What's so funny? Thinks Wesker. For some reason, Wesker has this urge to grab Chris. He catches Chris and holds his head with his right arm and ruffles Chris hair. Short after he let go.

He couldn't help the dress, unfortunately. It had been a "surprise" from the Entity, when it had brought Eddie along with it. He smoothed out the front, and turned to spot his friend, the Mortician.

It was one of her first couple trials in the fog, and Rayne was making good progress on the generation she and another were on, but just as she was getting into the groove of things, she heard the melody of a long-loss song.

The tune was carried on the gentle breeze in the fog, as if coming to her on purpose, and the familiarity of it caused the smaller woman pause, eventually causing her to abandon her spot and move towards the source. The other survivor gave her a puzzled look, but kept working, as if the song made them even more on edge... but how could it? It was a simple Russian Lullaby.

Ray didn’t take long to find the source, or rather, it didn’t take long to find her; the closer she got, the harder her heart pounded in her chest. So much so that it was starting to become deafening in her ears, but she pressed on. She knew the heartbeat meant trouble, but her curiosity would wind up winning over, and nearly being the end of her all together. When she was close enough, she would start to hum along, but in a much higher octave, choosing to harmonize with the lower pitch. The lower part would cut off immediately as the source snapped in her direction, but Rayne carried on, keeping the melody alive and in the air.

Snapping and thumping could be heard before the source finally stood before Rayne, towering over her with Axe in hand and hatchet on hip. Black, beady eyes would peer down to the platinum blonde behind the mask of a snow-ram, head canting to the side as she listened to someone else finally sing the song back. It had been a solo for so long, but now... this one had dared to start a duet.

Lowly, The Huntress would start her song again, shifting the large, bloody axe to one hand as she moved closer to the much smaller woman until she was towering over Rayne.

MEME.   ( randomness )      @thebrightestwltch

          had the situation been different, maybe the answer wouldn’t have sent a wave of frustration through ron in that moment. but, considering it was a life or death moment? he thought his frustration at quite possibly the only other person alive was entirely justified. hell, he was scared out of his mind and convinced he was going to be the next human kebab, thrown onto a hook and left for sacrifice to some weird multi armed creature. just the thought left a shiver running down his spine, even despite the muggy heat of the swampland they were currently creeping through. what they’d just witnessed? if he survived this, he would never forget that sickening image. it was probably why hermione was in some sort of shock. hell, he wasn’t entirely sure why he wasn’t in shock. he was no hero. he’d watched people being chopped down with machetes and axes too much over the last few hours. hell, he’d only managed to get one generator going out of god knows how many that were needed to power something. possibly an escape? possibly just for nothing, leaving them illuminated for some sick psychopath’s taking. 

          ❝ you have to. ❞ his voice was a strained whisper, pained and far too desperate. but, giving up wasn’t an option and can’t wasn’t something he had the patience for. that was his excuse for all but shoving hermione into the cramped locker before climbing in himself. he wasn’t that guy who manhandled anyone. that wasn’t his thing, but he wasn’t watching hermione die. not a chance. perhaps it was selfish. she was smart and nimble and had figured out way more than he had and he had a distinct feeling that he wasn’t getting out of here without her help. so, maybe he was smart for making the decision to ensure she survived as well, right? or maybe he didn’t want to die alone. that could have easily been the other option.

          as he closed the creaking metal doors shut, ron felt an instant regret running through him. the sound of their exhausted, adrenalin fuelled breathing was amplified by the metal box. as was the heat, leaving the cold sweat of fear turning into the sweat of running for his life in some disgusting, muggy, too hot land he’d never seen before. while his eyes adjusted to the new level of darkness, ron realised he’d been gripping hermione’s wrist possibly a little too tightly. given the situation, perhaps it was forgivable. he’d either sentenced them both to die in a metal locker sized coffin, or he’d saved them from the looming footsteps. surely that was worth maybe bruising her wrist in the long run, right? even still, he opened his mouth to apologise or even just find something to fill the uncomfortable silence that bred anticipation and fear. yet, just as the first breathy sound left him, the thud of footsteps began to grow louder on the wooden deck just outside the locker. the fear simply left ron seeing his life flash before his eyes combined with the uncomfortable ringing of his own terrified heartbeat thundering in his ears. god, he’d been so naive to think he was going to make it to at least fifty before having to worry about dying. even then, he was somewhat sure his overindulgences were what was going to get him, not some sick murderer wearing a mask and wielding weapons that belonged in super villain lockers.

          then, the scrape of metal on metal happened. for some reason, it prompted ron to slowly raise onto his tiptoes to peer out of the small vent at the top of the lockers. he definitely regretted that instantly. he could see the monster that had been chasing and killing them with far too much detail. the light from the nearby generator was illuminating his skin. what ron had once thought was just some disturbed human, no longer looked human with the way the muscles were so obvious and no skin was covering them. even the laboured breathing seemed non-human. more animalistic in some ravenous way. almost as soon as his eyes caught sight of the monster, ron dropped from his tiptoes. of course, he’d forgotten that he was standing on rusty metal, on a creaky deck, in a very humid swamp - all of which led to a telltale squeak-thump combination, just from the transfer of his weight. it was enough to alert the monster, leaving ron throwing his arm over hermione in some last ditch effort to protect her even as his eyes closed and he swallowed thickly. he was braced for the worst. this sick whatever it was, wasn’t just going to let him die easily. he’d seen what it did: injuring people until they were gasping and sobbing in agony. only then did he hand them over and dispose of them on the weird hooks.

          the creaking of the deck under the weight of the killer left ron’s stomach churning uncomfortably. in his mind, he could only picture the half covered face peering in through the cracks, a sadistic smile landing on its face knowing it had caught someone else. then, a loud bang. one of the generators, signaling that someone was near, accompanied by the bone chilling and deafening screech of the killer’s chainsaw slowly distancing away from the locker. it was only when ron heard the scream of someone else - maybe it was the blonde he’d passed earlier who had found some old tools, or perhaps the short guy who seemed to be running in circles - that he realised he had been holding his breath. it sounded far enough away to give them a chance at escape. although, something in him just wouldn’t let him move just yet. his arm was still pressing hermione back against the locker, eyes slowly opening. it took a few breaths before he was able to at least pretend to compose himself, coupled with an audible swallowing of bitter saliva that had gathered as his stomach turned in the midst of fear.

          ❝ come on. we’re not dying here. ❞ his words, although whispered low enough that they were just audible, sounded far more confident than he felt. hell, he was glad that it was dark inside of the locker because it was hiding the shaking of his hands as he reached to push open the door. just a crack at first, then just enough to let them both out - if he’d learned anything, it was to not put any excess strain on anything around here. the crumbling buildings seemed to scream when climbed or touched when on the run. hell, the ground seemed to be giving them away. and the birds? it was like they were following them, insisting on calling out that they were still around. although self preservation felt like the logical, selfish choice, as he stepped out onto the deck again and held out a hand for hermione, ron felt a sense of guilt. he hoped desperately that, whoever the person was that had backfired the generator? they’d gotten away safely. if not, he owed them. ron wasn’t even sure it was possible to survive being on one of those hooks, but if he came across anyone hanging there, he was going to get them down. a more dignified death with the comfort of another person rather than being sacrificed to god knows what? he’d have preferred that.