Chapter Text
Jake Park remembered nothing but uncontrollable rage.
And the blood that had coated his hands and arms as the hatchet in his hand made contact with the writhing form beneath him again and again.
He should have been afraid. The heartbeat roaring in his ears stemmed from the very creature he had pummeled into the earth, and yet his primal instincts had taken over, and he had suddenly realized, far too late, that he was not the one in control.
Worse yet was the absolutely terror-stricken expression on Dwight’s pale face, his eyes widening in shock as a survivor turned the tables in the most brutal way imaginable right before him. If he was honest with himself, Jake couldn’t quite comprehend what he had done until after the creature beneath him had been drained of its life, and his petrified companion had released his hold on it.
They hadn’t moved. He remembered it clearly. They hadn’t even gotten the chance to move, and the fog had consumed them, darkening their vision and pulling them both away. It was only then that he realized he had done something horribly, horribly wrong.
He shouldn’t have done it.
God, he shouldn’t have done it. Why did this happen?
And what now?
…
Jake- Run!
Get the fuck off him, asshole!
Hmph- you little shit! Argh-!
Dwight, grab him!
W-what!?
Grab him for fucks sake!
…
In the cold darkness, he saw and heard nothing. Nothing except for faint whimpering that made his blood run cold and his numb limbs freeze. Its familiarity disturbed him greatly. He knew too well whom it belonged to.
By the time his heavy eyelids had managed to slip open, the whimpering had evolved into soft crying, originating from somewhere behind him, not too far away. Groaning, he moved to lift his head but collapsed almost immediately, pain flaring in what felt like every inch of his body. The crying was growing louder now. His heart ached. He needed to put an end to it.
His felt as if he was being crushed alive, but it wasn’t just because of the unbearable pain he felt in the entirety of his body. It was something else… This feeling that he was at fault. He was the reason there were tears being spilt just a few meters away from him. He’d fucked up.
He didn’t know why.
Didn’t know how.
What the fuck did he do?
…
S-shit-
Let go of me you whiny pathetic- AARH!
Jake, J-jake stop-
FUCK! YOU!
AARH-FF-
Jake, w-we shouldn’t-
How’s it feel, asshole? Little taste of your own medicine-
JAKE!
…
He felt as if he was drowning in the fog. It was in his mind, his lungs, all around him, embracing every inch of his body. He wanted out.
He wanted out.
But the persistent crying kept him grounded. It stopped him from escaping into his mind, into slumber. Away from this godforsaken place and that sound behind him.
Jake Park was not one to easily give in to emotion. It was even rarer to catch him physically showing what he felt, as his poker face was permanent and impenetrable. But now, Jake was sure the suffocating fear he felt was written clearly over his face.
He was sure he was trembling, shaking as the numbness in his body only worsened, eyes staring emptily into the endless forest. The crying had suddenly changed to what sounded like choking, desperate breaths being taken as the being behind him struggled for air.
He felt sick. He couldn’t breath much himself. His throat had closed without his permission, and he found himself making disturbingly similar sounds to the mysterious figure behind him.
I’m going to die…
A particularly harsh strangled breath behind him reminded him he was not alone.
…
Heh… eh…. stupid… fuck…
Oh god, oh god- we s-shouldn’t have-
Shit… Dwight I-
I’m s-so f-fucking scared-
We… We’ll figure something out…
J…Jake…?
…
Jake bolted upright, panting heavily into the cold night air. A chill ran up his spine as he lifted a hand and grabbed his head, feeling something that shouldn’t have been there. Frowning, he wrapped his gloved hands around the cloth that had appeared around his head and tugged, flinching when the movement caused sharp pain to race through his head.
Guess not… He thought to himself as he lowered his hand, finally taking the time to observe his surroundings. Suddenly, something else seemed rather off. The woods around him were in clear focus, but his range of sight had diminished considerably. Lifting a hand to his left eye, he froze. He didn’t see his hand.
Moving it up and down over his eye in disbelief, he realized that his left eye was covered in the cloth he had failed to tear off his head. Grumbling, he clumsily pulled himself up, already searching the area for Claudette. She’d update him on the state of these injuries… he didn’t remember ever getting.
He definitely didn’t remember getting stabbed in the eye or something. Huffing in annoyance, it took him a moment to notice the glint of metal shining around his waist. Glancing down, he froze once more. There was an abundance of hatchets resting in a makeshift pouch wrapped tightly around his hip. Confusion rising at an exponential level, Jake took another worried look around, trying his best to identify the particular part of the woods he guessed he had passed out in.
His failure to figure out where he was only made him more anxious as he started stumbling past the trees, slowly getting used to his hindered sight. This was new. And though new definitely served to cure his boredom, he’d rather return to routine than have to suffer through the fear that was now flooding his system.
He stopped abruptly at a soft sound coming a little ahead of him. Taking a deep breath, he slowly approached the noise on unsteady legs. Ready to bolt at any second, he allowed himself to peak past the tree that was obscuring his sight from the origin of the noise.
A figure sat huddled in the grass, curled tightly upon itself as it sobbed uncontrollably. A much more frightening chill went down Jake’s spine as he took in the sight of the figure, slowly succumbing to the terror that was overtaking him.
That couldn’t…
Possibly be…
“Dwight?”