Chapter Text
Running.
How long had he been running for? He didn’t know. But he knew he had been running long enough for his throat to burn, his chest to explode, and his legs to turn into molten lead. It was mere adrenaline that had kept him going this far through the pitch-black woods, ducking every other second to narrowly miss the tangled branches that jutted from every which way. Adrenaline, he supposed, and a bit of luck. He figured there was just no conceivable way that he managed to evade his pursuers, especially when they got the jump on him. Plus, it was a miracle that he hadn’t knocked himself out running into the trunk of a tree (everything looked black in the dark), or tripped on a stray rock or log. His anxiety sky-rocketed as he imagined the worst happening, and he debated vaguely whether it was better to die getting lost in the woods or captured.
A sharp snapping of branches shook him from his thoughts, panic seizing his frame as he scrambled to go faster. Had they caught up with him already? He couldn’t tell if the hisses were from the crickets or from hushed voices, or if the thumping noise was from his heart hammering in his chest or the legwork of his pursuers, drawing closer and closer.
Running. Through the merciless, chilly night with nothing but an open hospital nightgown. He had to admit it wasn’t one of his proudest escapes. Thunder cracked overhead, followed by a streak of lightning, temporarily casting light on his surroundings. Not that it mattered. All the trees looked the same to him, and before he could get a glimpse of anything else, it faded back into pitch-blackness. Then, another rumble of thunder, followed by a sudden, heavy overpour. Now, not only did he barely have anything on, he was also soaking wet. Not to mention that with the rain making the ground all muddy, it increased his chances of slipping to an early death tenfold. All the same, he pushed on. Afterall, he already died once, hadn’t he? Death didn’t seem as impressive the second time round.
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“Jesus christ,” Gwen groaned, hanging her head, “we— we don’t even have enough pots to cover all these leaks!”
“It’s okay, Gwen!” A clattering of metal and glass came from the kitchen, and David came out with several coffee mugs, the handles hooked on each of his fingers. Despite the obvious bags under his eyes, he wore his trademark, cheery grin without fail. “Look, someone just has to keep tabs on this leak and switch out the cup whenever one gets full.”
To which, his co-counselor let out a low sob, covering her face with her hands and letting herself sink to her knees. It’s bad enough Campbell stole from the camp’s budget whenever he needed some “safe funds”, and she knew that this wasn’t the most impossible money crisis she had to figure out, but somehow, this was the last straw for her. It didn’t seem fair to her at all that she had to be up at three in the morning placing various pots around the mess hall just because Mother Nature decided it was time to let out all the rain it had been holding back for the past two weeks. Gwen watched wearily as David placed a mug down, only for another leak to start a few inches away from the other, plopping raindrops rhythmically onto David’s head.
Resignedly, she forced herself up and strode towards storage, where they kept spare supplies (or whatever ‘spare’ meant for their budget). She didn’t like going through storage often because god knows what’s in it, but after digging through the dusty, dim lit shelves, she managed to scrape up a few more bowls. They were dirty and rusty, but she figured they were for rainwater and not cooking, so it wouldn’t matter. After handing one to David, she went around the room, looking for any wet spots, and placing the bowls on top of them. Deciding that there were no more holes to cover, she walked back to David, who looked ready to pass out, hugging a big pot. Gwen grinned, the sight of it humorous to her. Her co-counselor was never a night owl— he rarely stayed up past 11 if he didn’t have to. It was no wonder he looked so dead-eyed. Crouching down, she gave him a gentle shake, stirring him from his nap.
“David,” she frowned, as his head at once started to droop against the pot, “you’re falling asleep. I’ll be on mug-duty for awhile. Please go and sleep in an actual bed.”
David shook his head drowsily and yawned. “But… rain… the leaks…”
Gwen sighed. “It’s okay, I’ll watch—” BANG.
The sudden, loud thumping against the doors startled both counselors, making them jump in their places. The two instinctively shift closer to each other, exchanging nervous looks. It could’ve been the storm. Nothing else.
BANG. BANG.
The noise came again, and Gwen was thoroughly spooked. It was nearing four in the morning and common sense started to fail her.
BANG. BANG. BANGBANGBANG—
A monster. It was definitely a monster. She glanced at David. The color drained from his face, and his eyes were wide in terror. Gwen hugged her knees, and pressed herself closer to him.
“I-It’s probably the storm,” David whispered, copying her internal logic, “or… or a bear. But don’t worry, those doors will never—”
BANG.
With a final bang, the door swung open, slamming against the side of the wooden walls. The impact was enough to cut out the only overhead light they had, leaving the room in darkness. Then, as if on cue, thunder roared over the mess hall and a crackle of lightning illuminated the doorway. In that second, the horrified counselors could make out a figure standing in the doorway donning only a hoodie and nightgown while dripping wet.
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He was sure someone had been chasing him. The heavy rain grew puddles at his feet, and since he was avoiding as much splashing in them as possible, someone was making the splashing noises. And someone had said his name.
Daniel. He heard it, he swore he had heard it. He heard someone distantly calling out to him, the voice carrying like a whisper in the pouring rain, sending chills down to his bones. But still, he didn’t dare look back, afraid that the slight turn of his head would empower his pursuer, and he would get caught. It was not until he heard a sharp cry, sounding awfully human, did he turn around. He squinted, peering into the darkness, his hands clenched into tight fists, unnerved. Another flash of lightning, and his heart jumped into his throat. His pursuer really was only a bus’s length behind him. Said pursuer was lying on the muddy ground, sprawled in what looked like an uncomfortable position. Daniel swallowed. He should just run. His follower was down, and he needed to escape.
Unfortunately, his curiosity won over, and he opted to shuffle closer. Once he was closer, he could get a better view of the guy. White clothes, would have been all white, save for the mud splatters here and there. His ankle looked twisted, and his head was sporting a well-sized lump, blood slowly oozing out of it. His pursuer must have had less luck than him.
There was nothing else he got from his pursuer. But the single, important fact that made his stomach queasy remained. His chaser was from his cult. Daniel knew this was coming. And he wasn’t prepared. A dreadful feeling poured over him, and he clenched his jaw. This was the price that had to be paid for those who failed. It was nothing personal, so why was he so afraid? The thunder rumbled suddenly, making him jump. The rain wasn’t letting up. He shivered, hugging his arms, suddenly feeling like it was 20 degrees colder than it was. Then, he cast his eyes down at his pursuer, eyeing his white hoodie.
He didn’t know how many more were coming after him, so it wasn’t good to keep lingering. After pulling over the hoodie, though it was damp and muddy, it gave him some warmth compared to the nightgown. Now hurrying, but at a slower pace, he wandered through the woods until he came along several cabins. A camp! Daniel couldn’t believe his luck. He didn’t need any attention right now, but it was early morning, and all the campers should be asleep. If he could just sneak into one of the main cabins and grab some supplies, it would certainly help on his escapade. He made his way into the camp and picked out the structure that looked the biggest. He tried opening it, but it wouldn’t budge. Daniel gritted his teeth. It must’ve been locked. He tried again, shoving his side into the door. The rain poured even harder, as if to hinder his progress. Fuming and resilient, he kept going, using all his strength to open the door. After five or six times, the door relented, swinging open so easily that he stumbled in.
The room was dark, but the lightning flashed, giving him a few seconds of sight. His blue eyes met a pair of green and purple ones, ones that seemed awfully familiar to him.