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As the fog dissipated, Dwight opened his eyes to the sight of Rancid Abattoir. Not one of his favorites, but not one of his least favorites either. He spawned next to Claudette, who smiled at him, before the pair moved to find a generator.
They found one relatively nearby, beside a tree, the pair kneeling down to work immediately. Soon the generator began to sputter with life, pistons slowly starting to move as gears and wires were put into their proper places.
The quiet was nice, but also unnerving, especially since he had no idea who the killer was. What if it was the Shape, stalking him from the distance? Dwight glanced around nervously, but saw nor heard any sign of a killer nearby. He exhaled. For now, they were safe.
As the generator neared completion, Dwight just barely caught the sound of footsteps close by. Likely a survivor, based on the fact there was no heartbeat. So he disregarded it, focusing on connecting the last few wires.
Too late, Dwight saw the looming figure behind Claudette, and the heartbeat hit his ears. The Cannibal pulled her off the generator before he could shout a warning, Claudette yelping in surprise as she was torn from her work.
Stepping away from the generator, Dwight had expected the Cannibal to toss her over his shoulder. Instead, Dwight watched in abject horror as the killer stuffed Claudette's head into his mouth.
Suddenly, he couldn't move. Dwight knew he needed to run, but remained frozen in fear, legs refusing to move, eyes unable to look away. Instead he simply watched, as the Cannibal greedily gobbled up Claudette, her body disappearing into his.
It was much too soon when Claudette's feet slipped down the killer's throat with an audible gulp, followed by a satisfied sigh. There was almost no sign Claudette was inside the monster, his gut already a bit plump. The only way one could now tell she was in there, were the slight movements of his belly and muffled cries for help.
The heartbeat he'd droned out came back to him, as Leatherface turned his attention to Dwight. Surely he was full, swallowing an entire person should've been more than a filling meal.
The nearly complete generator rumbled between us as we continued to watch each other. For a moment, neither prey nor predator made a move, one bathed in the red light of the other gaze.
It was when Dwight realized there was still a hunger in Bubba's eyes as his stain washed over him, his body finally let him move. With his brain screaming run, he prayed to the entity that he was just out of reach. Grass was torn from the dirt beneath his sneakers, as Dwight turned on his heel and tried to bolt.
Such hope was quickly snatched away, as Dwight was yanked back by his shirt, losing his footing from the sudden lurch and stumbling to the ground.
Wind knocked out of him, he lay prone on the ground, slowly regaining his bearings. His glasses had been dislodged, Dwight barely able to make anything out as he felt around aimlessly for them.
The moment his hand found their familiar shape, another hand gripped his ankle. He was dragged backwards, rough and uncaring, and Dwight was filled with panic.
He clawed desperately at the ground, dirt building up beneath his nails, but his attempts did nothing to slow it stop him from being pulled closer.
“No no no no no no no no!” He didn’t want to go in there, he couldn't, he couldn’t bear the overwhelming fear and panic.
It didn’t matter if it wasn’t the Trapper this time, he didn’t want to go in.
He breath hitched when he felt a humid warmth around his ankles.
He didn’t have to look behind to know what was happening, but he did anyways. Leatherface was crouched down on the ground. His feet were submerged into his mouth, and with a tug of arms and the pull of swallow, Dwight was brought in closer and deeper.
His nails dug deep into the dry dirt, digging up grass and chipping his nails in a futile attempt to do anything to make his submersion stop. But just as it had been against the Trapper, he had no effect on his outcome.
“Please, you, you don’t have to eat me, you’ve already been fed.”
But the Cannibal made no indication that it had even heard him. It continued to slurp him up like noodles, seemingly very content.
“Please don't, I’ll do anything!”
The killer was up to his midsection now, standing up fully with wobbly steps, before looking to the sky. Dwight did his best to brace himself from going in deeper, but gravity was not his friend.
“No no no please no no n-"
His head and soon after his hands disappeared down the Cannibal’s gullet, and Dwight could only cry as the darkness closed around him once more.
Leatherface squealed happily at the squirming full feeling in his gut, his belly pushing out against his shirt and apron, much more prominent than before. He vould stop now, sit bck and relax, but no, he wantrd more.
In the distance, a generator was completed. He knew where to go next.
Bill found Meg working on another generator, half complete, with still no sign of the killer. He’d heard Dwight shriek, but it sounded like it was of fear, not out of pain. Plus, no one had been hooked yet.
He wondered who it was.
He joined Meg without a word exchanged between them, their hands working to finish the piece of machinery at more efficient pace.
It was just before they finished it, did he finally feel his heart quicken in pace.
Still, they managed to finish it before the killer came into their line of sight, the pair peeling away in opposite directions.
He heard the rev of a chainsaw, and knew not only who the killer was, but that Meg had been found. He creeped closer to the sound, hoping she would get away.
And she did seem to, at least, she avoided the first few chainsaw attempts. But then he heard her scream in pain, just as the pair entered his line of sight. With a gush of blood from her newly carved wound, she fell to the ground, as the Cannibal made what he could best describe as happy noises.
Huh, the Cannibal seemed quite a bit plumper than he remembered.
Bill watched as the Cannibal bent down, picking her up, but not tossing her over its shoulder. Both him and Meg made a confused face, before the Cannibal shoved her into its mouth.
His jaw dropped, cigarette falling from his mouth. His eyes had to be playing tricks on him, but, they weren't. The chainsaw-wielding killer really was gulping down the red head with the ease of a snake, moaning like someone really enjoying their meal.
Unable to think of what to do or able to help, he simply watched in horror, mouth agape and limbs frozen. As her legs were gulped down like noodles, the Cannibal sighed in satisfaction, patting its now much bigger gut.
He needed to find the hatch, now.
Finally breaking out of his trance, Bill turned around and ran, ears searching for the unmistakable hum of freedom. He prayed to whatever God could still hear him that he’d find the hole in the ground before the killer found him.
His heart started to beat heavily, and he knew he had fucked up. Running right off the bat had been a particularly stupid decision of his, leaving a trail for the Cannibal to follow as soon as the monster turned around.
Still, it seemed God had answered his prayer, as he caught the sound of the familiar hum in his ears. His eyes scanned the ground feverishly, searching for the abyss of black mist.
Just catching the square shape in the corner of his eye, Bill took a hard turn into its direction, his old knees protesting slightly, but never giving way. He could hear the killer now, its heavy breathing just audible over the heartbeat thumping in his ears.
As he neared his escape, red light slowly began to coat his backside, which meant if he wanted out, he was going to have to commit to it.
So the moment he was a step away, Bill jumped, plunging into the lightless depths below.
Or, he almost did, before meaty hands latched onto his arm.
Bill grunted in pain as his plummet was abruptly ended by his arm getting yanked back, the sudden strain on his limb making him fear dislocation. Thankfully, no sharp pain followed, the lurch only causing it to ache.
He squirmed in its grasp, trying to make it help him go, but its grip remained firm. It was then that he heard it.
Beneath the layers of the monster's fat, he could hear screaming. The pleas for help and freedom, from all of the survivors in the trial. Bill almost threw up from the sound, but was more preoccupied by his current predicament.
“Let go of me you son of a bitch!” His free hand gripped the edge of the hatch with all his might, doing his best to prevent himself from getting pulled out, as he yanked his other arm back.
But the Cannibal's grip did not falter. The creature grunted and burped, not wanting to let its last meal go.
Still, he kept his own death grip on the hatch's edge, keeping the pair at a standstill, a truce until one wavered.
For once, Bill wished the entity would come down on him with its embrace. He glared down at the abyss, the void enveloping his lower half, and cursed at its unseen occupant.
“Come on you damn spider, drag me out of here!”
A shiver wormed down Bill's spine, as his hand was suddnely submerged in a warm wetness, his gaze snapping back to the Cannibal.
His hand was in its mouth.
Bill's disgust and fear spiked as the monster continued to shovel his arm into its mouth, his fingertips soon squeezed by the undulating muscles of the throat. It was going to devour him whole, like a serpent, just like it had done to Meg.
Like hell he was gonna let that thing make a meal out of him!
Just holding on for dear life wasn’t gonna cut it anymore. He needed to attack, do on the offense, anything to make it let him go. An idea came to mind, one that he wasn’t sure would work, but might hurt the others, and was probably his best chance.
“I’m sorry.”
He apologized to those it had ate, those still squirming inside, before letting go of the hatch and ramming his fist into its gut, giving the Cannibal the hardest uppercut he could muster.
He heard someone grunt inside, as the beast hurled, coughing his arm up and letting go as it clutched its stomach, squealing in pain. Finally free, Bill allowed himself to continue his plunge downward, falling into nothingness, the relief of freedom flooding his system.
And then, he was back, in the blink of an eye, he was on the edge of the forest surrounding the campfire. He reached into his coat pocket, pulling out a cigarette and lighting it. Placing in between his lips, he took in a long deep breath, savoring the bliss of nicotine, before letting out a long, smoked-filled sigh.
Oh, his hands were shaking slightly.
The approached the fire, Ace perking up at his arrival, the gambling man sitting next to him the moment Bill took a seat.
“Hey Billy boy, how'd your trial go?”
“Terrible. They all were moried, and I found the hatch.”
Ace frowned, placing a hand on Bill's back, trying to comfort the older man.
“It always awful when that happens. But at least one of you made it out, one remaining middle finger to the killer.”
“Yeah…”
Still, he couldn't help but let the guilt eat away at him. He wished he'd taken Megan's place, that they had chosen to swap the direction they ran. But no, he had simply watched her get eaten, not even trying to help, and then fled.
Ace placed a firm hand on his quivering ones.
“It’s not your fault William.”
Bill took in another long inhale of his cigarette, leaning into Ace slightly.
“…thank you.”
Gazing into the fire, Bill prayed the youngsters wouldn’t be stuck in that hell for long.