#mentioned kingfield

Dwight wasn’t quite sure what to do next.  He never quite thought about the reality of becoming a Killer, of finally snapping and giving up.  He expected it to be a lot more painful, and for him to feel so much more desolate than he did now.  He was sure he had David to thank for that mercy, yet there was still the inescapable feeling of this being his permanent fate; there was no chance of leaving, and that he should try to enjoy what he could.  

There was, too, the deep-seated conflict he felt about the remaining survivors.  Some of them, he still liked, but others were ones he despised with a passion.  He was surprised by the sudden tug, whispers around him urging him onwards.  Was this what being summoned to a trial felt like?  He got up and obeyed, following where the whispering commanded him to go.  

The fog closed in close, more welcoming than foreboding.  It was no longer something he feared, or even had to.  It was something that would never hurt him anymore.  Nothing would.  In an instant, he found himself in Shelter Woods, trees looming high above him.  He slowly looked around, surprised to see the world in a different way.  Yet, the storm of emotions seemed to only worsen, and he couldn’t help the tears falling down his face.  He wasn’t sad, why was he crying?  

He pushed himself to moving, knowing the rules of trials well.  He knew that failure to do what he was expected would result in punishment, and after David had risked himself to keep Dwight safe from the Entity’s cruel grip?  Dwight could not disappoint.  But he still couldn’t understand why he was crying so much.  

He heard the survivor before he saw them.  When has my hearing been so sensitive?  He felt an instant desire to shed blood, to sink claws into their back.  Whoever they were didn’t matter, not as much as hurting them.  He felt like there was a terrible weight on his shoulders, but was being reassured that he could relieve it, if he did as he was told.  

Dwight obeyed, chasing down the source of the noise.  He couldn’t even tell who it was, but it didn’t matter.  Claws raked through flesh easily, and Dwight paused to stare at the blood on his hand.  Why didn’t it help?  Why did he feel so terrible still?  

‘Again!  Again!’  

The voice was clearer now, but still in a whisper.  He chased after them, not willing to let them escape and allow the threatening pressure to close in on him.  The urgency made more tears stream down his face.  He couldn’t fail now, he couldn’t.  He quickly gained on the survivor, watching them run towards a window.  

‘Now!  Now!’

In a brief, instinctive motion, Dwight clenched his left hand, watching as the spikes materialized before him in the window and impaling themselves into the survivor.  They fell from the window when the spikes disappeared, crying in pain not so differently from how he once did.  He almost felt sorry for the survivor, wanting to feel sympathy for their pain.  Yet, he knew that he had been left to cry and scream for help, only for nothing to come.  Newfound rage filled him, and he walked around the window to grab the downed survivor.  He still remembered the rules well, looking for the nearest hook.  

‘Prove yourself to me, and I will grant you what you desire.’

He tilted his head slightly.  What does that mean?  He stared down at the survivor’s shaking form, clearly afraid as he simply stared.  He didn’t realize when he started growling, being reminded too much of himself, when he had done the same and prayed for help, only to be abandoned, again, and again, and again.  

He picked the survivor up in a tight hug, praying now for the chance to get his revenge, to make them suffer.  Let me do this by my own hand.  

‘You have my blessing.’  

He felt the survivor’s sudden gasp as spikes burst from him into them, withdrawing when he let go.  They writhed on the grassy floor, each moment they weakened was more of the weight taken off of his shoulders.  His eyes never left their form as they eventually stopped, and the whispering in his ears sounded proud.  

‘Well done.  You have passed my test, and for that, I reward you.’  

The fog closed in around Dwight, and when it cleared he found himself back at the home he knew to be David’s.  It felt.. Warm, and inviting, as if this was the place he was only meant to return to.  He walked in the door and saw David lounging on the couch, grinning widely when the other saw Dwight.  

“Lookit ya!  Had your first test, huh?  And ya passed with flyin’ colors, got blood all over ya.”

David sounded so overjoyed, it was hard for Dwight not to smile, or to hug David tightly when the scrapper walked close.  

“Come on, we’ve earned some time to ourselves, yeah?”

Dwight nodded, following beside David.  It felt satisfying to deal well-deserved punishment onto the survivors, to take his revenge on the people who dared to turn their back on him.