today’s trial was simple.
a unanimous vote—two killers, eight survivors.
the entity clicked and grumbled, black foggy tendrils circling your waist and depositing you in the woods. you saw the survivors’ camp, the sad fire they’d built as a source of warmth, probably the first bout of heat they’d had in a while.
you tensed at the eerie shuffling of feet behind you and the pause in motion, eyes barely shifting back to greet the ghostface.
danny johnson loved getting paired with you.
the soft huff you’d release upon seeing him, the way you twisted your dual flails in your hands before strapping them on your back.
“don’t you just love when ol’ entity puts us together, sweetness?” he cooed as he leapt over, arms tossing over your shoulders. the hard plastic of his mask dug into your shoulder, “must be hungry…”
you turned your head when he lifted his mask, the symbolic face hidden beneath the hood of his cloak. danny had such a pretty face.
dark hair, tan skin, eyes that swirled with serene insanity and a flicker of love that he only had for you.
his knife pressed into your thigh from its holster, his gloved hands redirecting your attention back to him. “you never come see me when we’re all resting,” he pouted, “poor trapper misses his friend, y’know?”
“do you?” you quietly asked, feeling the leather of his gloves brush lovingly against your cheek. danny grinned, all teeth and sparkling eyes, “i always miss my girl.”
you heard the survivors shriek, gaze shifting from a now jealous ghostie to their terrified faces. “who you wantin’, lovie?” he asked, voice dipping into something colder, something secure, “know you’ve got rules for me.”
“i want her,” you murmured, recognizing the way she held herself in fear, the way her irises trembled, “she’s…new.”
“you’re so cute,” he laughed, watching them fuss over medkits versus flashlights, “so kind to the newbies. so sweet.” you flinched when his tongue dragged over a healed bite mark—his, of course—mask falling back over his features.
“got any tips for me, honey? know i got a real special one for you—“
“watch the pallets,” you mused, playfully flicking his mask as the black fog curled at your boots, “you always get hit.” danny’s shoulders dropped, lovesickness visible even when he was disguised in full attire.
his voice was swept away by the entity, and you reappeared within the walls of the raccoon city police department. you always hated this place—too many corners, endless hallways, the stench of rotted flesh.
three hooks, two dead, three generators left.
you’d held the hand of one, watching as the entity pried her body from the hook. you wiped the tears of another, their body limp in your lap. you’d turned away when you saw danny sat upon the spine of another, camera angled to capture their exhausted expressions.
you were in pursuit, watching poor, new survivor feng min scrabble around the offices and vault through broken windows. she dropped a pallet, and your flails shattered the wood with little to no issue.
you hoped danny was having better luck.
“get away!” she cried, standing on the opposite end of a broken table, “please..”
you tilted your head, propping the wooden sticks of your flails on your shoulders, spiked steel balls clinking behind your back. you hated when they begged.
then, you heard the soft rustle of a cloak.
“get out,” you muttered, “i told you i wanted her.”
he emerged next to you, knife and mask slick with blood. feng min shakily breathed, her only defense a pallet that rested idly next to you. you were sure the other two were on generators, until danny raised a gloved hand:
“3, 2, 1…” he counted off slowly.
a loud tome sounded through the trial, and you heard the distant whispers of an opened hatch.
you scanned her shaking body, frowning slowly when she began to round the table. danny watched you as he backed away, hidden eyes surely glimmering with amusement.
he always loved to watch you work.
the spikes clattered against the floor, soft sparks pricking the air. “let me leave, let me leave,” she whimpered, bloody hands gripping the front of her shirt.
your flail embedded itself into her skin.
“i’m sorry, i know it hurts,” you whispered.
she fell to the ground, sobbing as you dragged her across the filthy floors of the department. danny followed, quiet yet proud, pausing in confusion when you passed a hook.
feng min had stopped fighting.
you followed the whispers, the shift in the air—there. the silver hatch, black fog bubbling from it as you neared it.
feng min crawled to it, crying when you tore your weapon from her skin. your hands gently ran along her back, helping her shift pathetically to the inky exit. she turned back, breathing heavy and uneven as she observed danny prop himself against the doorframe, watching with something she couldn’t quite decipher. you stood over her beaten and shredded body, boot holding the hatch open.
“can…” she coughed, “can i get you every time?”
you stared, cold heart aching.
she smiled weakly, “your hands are warm.”
she fell into the abyss, the hatch closing harshly upon her departure. the silence was broken by danny’s slow claps, and you flinched when he slammed you against the wall.
splintered wood dug into your spine, his gloved hand secure around your throat.
“you drive me fuckin’ insane.”
“i didn’t do anything,” you whispered, flails dropping to the stone next to you.
“blood all over you, spare dagger strapped to your thigh, yet you’re still the nicest person in this trial,” he murmured, voice laden with desire, “you’re cute. savin’ a pathetic little thing like her.”
“you wished i’d killed her,” you smiled.
“you robbed me of a proper show, lovie,” he whined, feeling the entity creep nearby, “gonna make it up to me later?”
you nodded, breathy when his hand tightened around your neck.
“might submit a request,” danny kissed your cheek, lips brushing over your ear, “ask boss to put us together all the time.”
he giggled, tongue dragging over the dotted blood on your cheek, “might fuck you into the ground after every trial…how’s that sound?”
