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Chapter Text

𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗮𝗿𝗲 𝗰𝘂𝗿𝗿𝗲𝗻𝘁𝗹𝘆 𝗹𝗶𝘀𝘁𝗲𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝘁𝗼 . . .

Chapter Text

𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗮𝗿𝗲 𝗰𝘂𝗿𝗿𝗲𝗻𝘁𝗹𝘆 𝗹𝗶𝘀𝘁𝗲𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝘁𝗼 . . .

♫ 𝐩𝐮𝐩𝐩𝐲 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 ⸺ 𝐩𝐚𝐮𝐥 𝐚𝐧𝐤𝐚

𝗻𝗶𝗰𝗸 𝗳𝘂𝗿𝗰𝗶𝗹𝗹𝗼’𝘀 𝘆𝗮𝗻𝗱𝗲𝗿𝗲 𝘁𝗿𝗮𝗶𝘁𝘀 𝗮𝗿𝗲 . . .

𝚒𝚗𝚜𝚎𝚌𝚞𝚛𝚎, 𝚙𝚘𝚜𝚜𝚎𝚜𝚜𝚒𝚟𝚎, & 𝚜𝚑𝚢

• july 23rd 2021, 10:31 PM, and the stars are brighter than usual tonight
• the moon follows suit, too - as it shimmers like a spotlight in the sky, hand-in-hand with every star dancing beside it
• it’s probably just a nova of some sort, nick assumes, or maybe the stars are glistening just for the two of you, he hopes
• you and nick, who worked together as chefs in the kitchen, had been assigned to teach a class about the wonders of constellations in the night sky
• and what better way to learn about them beforehand than to actually get a glimpse yourself?
• with a raggedy blanket, your telescope, and some peanut butter butterpops, you and your friend were off into the forest 
• as you blabber about your fascination with the night sky on the hike there, nick tries and fails miserably to gain control over his stuttering heart
• but there is not a single, possible way this man could ever hide his undying crush on you
• it’s so obnoxiously obvious by the way the counselors tease him for stuttering through his sentences and the red-hot blush that dusts his cheeks when you give him that perfect smile of yours
• but… he’s just not good enough
• he’s just generic nick, while you are sparkling, eccentric, alluring, all-too magnificent y/n l/n in all your heavenly glow
• you are the sun in its full glory, but nick isn’t the moon, he’s not even a star and any sliver of confidence within him is put to shame at your side
• you’re the personification of euphoria as you point to every star and tell him tales of the constellation’s origin, but then you’re pure evil when you dare punish your vision by looking into his eyes
• however, no matter how much his brain torments him, nick is in love with you and he teases the idea that this infatuation may just be what kills him
• cassiopeia shimmers as you trace the shape with your finger, he’s looking at you
• orion’s belt blinks while you usher him to use the telescope, he’s still looking at you
• canis major twinkles, he can’t take his eyes off of you
• “watch out!” your eyes blow wide as you shove him away and into the dirt, something animalistic crawling on top of you while it grunts and growls
• the creature on top of you is horrifying
• its limbs far too long to be human, its teeth ready to dig into its dinner, its eyes glowing like the stars you were just admiring
• nick can’t even process the heart-stopping and overwhelming fact that you just saved his life before he acts
• he holds the bulky flashlight in his hands, “get the fuck away from them!” shouts into the midnight air as he plunges the object into the skull of the creature
• it whimpers and rolls off you and begins writhing like a dying cockroach, all before it abruptly lunges at the assailant
• a wail escapes from nick’s throat as a fountain of blood begins to spur from his neck, both of you beginning to scream like bloody murder
• it was all a mess of sharp nails and honed teeth, and as nick lies there, bleeding while his flesh is carved into by this beast above him, he feels… elated
• to die at your side and to die for you, there is no other way he’d rather go out
• however, the beast let out an ear-piercing shriek after you thrust a loose twig into its throat, then scurries off into the forest
• the silence left after its departure was deafening, but is then broken by the sudden appearance of a concerned ryan who rushed over upon hearing the uproar
• you hurry over and tackle the boy into a hug, unaware of how something within a half-conscious nick dies as he watches the scene play out before him
• he’s out like a light before he can pull himself together and claim what’s his, but soon awakens in a delirious state back in the lodge
• “easy, man! chill out, will you?” kaitlyn scolds him, and in his dazed condition, he begins to panic and thrash about in his stance
• “y/n… where…?” he mumbles while he pushes kaitlyn’s hands off his form in a fruitless attempt to escape her hold
• all that flickered through his mind were those teeth and those heart-shattering screams of yours, and then, there was the memory of you saving his life and how the mere recollection could probably heal all of his wounds with its sheer power
• “woah there, cowboy. you were just mauled by a bear, your summer love can wait” kaitlyn jokes, guiding the lovesick boy to lie back down
• “no… where’s y/n? i need to… need to… need to save y/n.” he slurs out as he becomes more aggressive in his endeavors to escape
• however, something sharp… something metallic hits his nose
• across the hem of kaitlyn’s sweatshirt is blood
• your blood
• nick’s nails, much sharper than ordinary, sink into the girl’s wrist as he uses both his hands to pull the stain to his nose, inhaling deeply and exhaling with a quavering whimper
• the poor girl tries to wrangle herself from nick’s firm grip, but her attempts were merely futile
• “nick! what the-!?“ “shut the fuck up, kaitlyn!” nick’s shout was muffled into her shirt sleeve but was assertive enough to reverberate against the lodge walls and strike fear into kaitlyn’s heart
• he is blinded by pure desire; his inhales grow deeper with every breath as if he scenting what he thought to be you
• “i said get the fuck away from-!” kaitlyn’s demand is cut short as nick practically flings her across the room in an enraged hysteria
• he twists his nose in utter disgust at the sudden new scent that permeates the room, then finds kaitlyn lying wrangled on the floor, blood beginning to seep and pool around her
• and as much as he knows he should… he doesn’t care
• nick doesn’t care at all; you are all that matters right now
• upon hearing the shouts and collision, you and ryan rush out of the nurse’s office to identify the sudden commotion
• there you are, and for a mere moment, nick has found clarity amidst this mess, before it is robbed from him once he makes eye contact with ryan
• ryan…
• you’re with… ryan?
• nick doesn’t know where this sudden feeling of pure hatred has come from, but the thought of him standing by your side - god forbid him putting his hands on you again - he doesn’t know what to do with himself
• something primal bubbles within nick at the mere idea, and no matter how hard he tries, he can’t calm himself down
• the room is dead silent, all that can be heard are the huffs of enragement and the grinding of teeth emanating from nick
• “THEY’RE MINE!!” his eyes glimmer in a hue of gold for a mere second, and a bestial growl erupts from his throat before he charges at the male
• nausea then builds in your stomach upon the scene before you: ryan, thrashing against the male on top of him as an inhuman nick claws and tears his teeth into another helpless victim
• everything is red
• screams and growls have faded into nothingness, the metallic scent of fresh blood is appalling and unadulterated terror pumps like a drug through your veins
• and with that, you’re off
• you’re off into the night and into the foggy forest of hackett’s quarry, not daring to turn and check if that rabid creature was intending on turning you into his dessert
• the pain of loose sticks and pungent leaves scraping and cutting onto your form goes unnoticed, not when there’s adrenaline racing through your entire body
• you don’t know where you even intend to go, just far, far away from the horrors you had just witnessed
• with tears seeping down your cheeks, you feel your legs begin to weaken beneath you and your running pace begins to decelerate
• you let your body rest and come to a halt, catching your breath by leaning against a tree
• as you look up to your left, you catch sight of what looks to be a cave of some sort
• what was once used as an entryway for miners long ago has now become a hiding spot to shield yourself from the vicious creature that was once your close friend
• you crouch down and muffle your hyperventilating breaths with your sleeve, waiting for what felt like days for something to happen
• you waited for nick to greet you into your demise, or for some creepy cop to save you from this nightmare
• and then… you hear it
• twigs crunching beneath someone’s weight, inhuman growls filling the late-night ambiance
• his figure marches into your train of vision as he begins sniffing the air like a drug-detecting canine beside a junkie
• and then, his eyes turn towards your direction and your once pacing heart practically stops within your chest
• there’s no way he can see you, it’s far too dark out here
• he couldn’t possibly find you in such abysmal darkness… right?
• a claw then impales into your ankle and drags you from your vain attempt at hiding, all while your helpless shouts echo throughout the woodland
• you reach to find some sort of weapon to use against your aggressor, but your attempts were to no avail
• and now there’s a man with golden eyes, whetted claws, and sharp teeth sat on top of you, face nestled into the base of your neck, shakily inhaling like some pervert
• “nick…” you cry out, feeling the vibration of his grunt tremble against your skin upon hearing you say his name
• “oh, y/n…” you can hear the smile in his words, “you have no idea all the fucking things you do to me…”
• july 24th, 2021, 1:34 AM, and as you stare up into the night sky, you realize nick was right
• the stars are brighter than usual tonight.

Chapter Text

𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗮𝗿𝗲 𝗰𝘂𝗿𝗿𝗲𝗻𝘁𝗹𝘆 𝗹𝗶𝘀𝘁𝗲𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝘁𝗼  .  .  .

♫  𝐞𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐫 & 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐤 ⸺ 𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥 𝐢𝐧 𝐫𝐞𝐝

𝗱𝘆𝗹𝗮𝗻 𝗹𝗲𝗻𝗶𝘃𝘆’𝘀 𝘆𝗮𝗻𝗱𝗲𝗿𝗲 𝘁𝗿𝗮𝗶𝘁𝘀 𝗮𝗿𝗲  .  .  .

𝚗𝚎𝚛𝚟𝚘𝚞𝚜, 𝚊𝚖𝚋𝚒𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚞𝚜, & 𝚙𝚊𝚛𝚊𝚗𝚘𝚒𝚍

• polaroid one is found amongst a cork-board in the lodge
• it’s articulate — the way the clouds hang above the bed of grass like bending lilies overcame by raindrops
• as if the photographer knew exactly what they were doing
• and as much as dylan finds it gorgeous, he only takes a mere second to admire the piece before moving on with his day
• polaroid two is found hand-in-hand with the first on the cork-board, once again
• and by god, the way this artist looks at the world is marvelous
• it’s just as gorgeous as the previous, dylan thinks to himself, how the butterfly fits like a puzzle piece into this polaroid
• but how, and why, has something as mere as a polaroid captured his attention in such a captivating manner?
• this confusion runs rampant in his mind and much to his dismay, this skepticism is never brought to any fruition
• in the exact same location as the previous two, polaroid three is found a week after the last
• the burst of different hues, the rays of sunshine bleeding through, the angles that capture the true essence of summer
• he then begins to ponder who this mystery photographer is and just how hasn’t he noticed them yet?
• and better yet, why has the whole week without any new content from them… hurt?
• polaroid four is just as stunning per usual as it’s found sitting with the rest
• and its witchery works all the same, but there’s a sudden bolt of fear that strikes his heart when he comprehends the contents of the picture
• what was this photographer that dylan has come to love doing all the way out in the wilderness by themselves?
• there was the mere possibility that they weren’t alone, but for some odd reason, his stomach twists at the very idea
• nonetheless, your art is astonishing as it always is, but the unfamiliar rot still sits deep within him
• polaroid five is found peeking out of a backpack of one of the campers
• that state of admiration somehow had manifested into a fit of paranoia, and for why, dylan can’t put a finger on a potential reason
• it’s just some other flimsy polaroid, it could’ve been taken by anyone, hence why it’s in the possession of somebody else, so why should it matter to him?
• it most certainly couldn’t have been taken by them… right?
• but, he grasps the image in his hand, and the way so many words have been spoken in a mere image so effortlessly, dylan knew who was behind the art
• the way they capture the world — it’s inspiring, it’s devastating; it’s perfect
• a shrill voice cuts into the air and halts dylan’s train of thought
• a young camper who was assumed to be the owner of the picture then questions him about his actions
• “who took this picture?” dylan doesn’t waste a mere second to bring his questions to fulfillment
• the child’s eyes light up, “oh, y/n did! they’re my family. mr. hackett put their pictures up over there to show everyone!” they answer, using a dainty finger to point towards the cork-board
• y/n…
• y/n y/n y/n y/n
• the name felt like honey on his tongue as he spoke it softly into the air, almost as if he didn’t quite believe you were real and not just some figment of his imagination
• finally, he can put a label on his sweet artist
• with that vital piece of information, that brings dylan here, alone while the rest of the campers and counselors are out exploring the forest of hackett’s quarry
• and using the bobby-pin technique jacob taught him, he had successfully picked the lock into cabin 7 and sauntered inside
• dylan searches every nook and cranny for some trace of you as if he was in some sort of withdrawal without your perfect art
• one peek into the rickety desk in the corner and he has found it: a piece of you
• several letters sent to your sibling, detailing what your home life is like and the sights you’ve seen during your summer retreat
• and lied messily among the pages are several polaroids, which dylan feverishly takes into his possession
• polaroid six is of the beach you and your sibling commonly visit and dylan ponders how your skin reacts to the heat, how handsome you would look underneath the sunlight, how well you would fit nestled in his arms
• polaroid seven is a picture of your precious kitty which you knew your sibling missed dearly and dylan ponders what kind of pets you two would get when if you moved in together and the brilliant photos you would take of them
• to show off your success, polaroid eight was taken to brag to your sibling that your plant had sprouted before theirs did and dylan wonders if you’d be this competitive with him once you finally meet
• polaroid nine is a mere photo of your backyard that sends dylan to the cracking conclusion that he is in love with you, a stranger whose mere art has managed to conquer his world in the most catalytic, but blissful manner
• summer is inching near its end with its softer breezes and drifting leaves
• and as the children are beginning to pack up to return home, dylan can’t handle the idea of never being able to meet you
• 11:23 AM ticks on the cuckoo clock in the lodge, x’s are crossed among the calendar until the current date, august 22nd, 2021
• parents have begun to crowd into the estate to reunite with their kids after a long summer, all whilst the campers are out and about for one last hoo-rah around the quarry before it’s back to school
• dylan is in charge of getting the campers back with their guardians and he taps his foot anxiously at the very idea of one of these people being you
• somehow with effortless finesse, you have managed to entangle yourself with the threading of his veins, puppeteering his every move and controlling every aspect of his body
• however, it’s not like he truly minded tearing himself to shreds for you
• all he ever wanted was for you to burn through his facade of flesh, blood, and bones, then to see what lies underneath and still love him despite
• he wants you to take his clothes off and run your fingers amongst every wound, and in your eyes, tell him: “i still love you despite it all”
• he wants so badly for you to taste every haunting, disgusting thought of his and not see your face twist from utter revulsion, but instead, light up with the same admiration and overwhelming fucking infatuation he has for you
• “name?” dylan asks the stranger in a apathetic tone, head too clouded up with his fantasies to truly pay attention
• “y/n l/n” his heart stops in his chest, “i’m here to pick up y/s/n l/n.”
• and by god, this creature before him is astonishingly and heartbreakingly beautiful
• dylan is disorientated, dizzy, euphoric; he has turned into a mess of all the things that have been caused by his darling shutterbug
• this poor boy tries with every fiber of his being to muster up some witty comment to snag your heart (or any words for that matter), but you’ve stunned him into such a deafening silence that the only noise that escapes is his shaky breaths and awkward stammering
• however, the truth is, there is nothing for him to say, all he does is crave you and there are no words in any human language to ever express these feelings of sheer hunger
• he stares at you like a deer in headlights, all while you shift uncomfortably and wait for the silence to be filled
• “are you all right?” god, your voice, “y-yeah, sorry, i- um… i’m-i’m all right. uh, th-the kids, they’ll be done soon. um, you’re more than welcome to… welcome to look around while you wait, i don’t mind…” dylan has never wanted to punch himself so badly before
• you chime back into the conversation, “actually, the environment around camp is stunning. would it be all right if i snapped a few pics?” you ask him, presenting him your polaroid camera
• “oh, of course!” dylan responds a little too enthusiastically. “i mean- yeah, you can- you can do… that” do you see what you do to him?
• you merely nod and send him a smile that practically explodes his heart to pieces, right before you escape through the doors of the lodge and leave the boy to wallow in his self-pity
• after all, he said it himself: to see the beauty behind the camera, that’s all he’s ever truly wanted
• and your premonitions were right, the beauty of the place between summer and fall is gorgeous, especially around hackett’s quarry
• you can’t seem you take your hands off the shutter button, every inch of the woodland is magnetizing and you can’t only hope these pictures to the atmosphere justice
• however, due to being so engrossed in your devotion and your poor navigation skills, you walk off trail and find yourself lost in the forest 
• your sibling will definitely poke fun at you for this, they always had a knack for teasing and taunting you for the little things
• a soft smile forms on your face at the thought; you have missed them dearly and can only imagine the types of jokes and stories they’ll have for you as you saunter your way through the never-ending woods
• crunch! the noise fills the air, you gasp and turn your head to the sound
• you prepare for an ax murderer to welcome you to your inevitable demise, only to see a bunny hop out from behind a tree stump
• concealing the urge to squeal at the utter cuteness, you bend down and point your camera to the subject, snapping a quick picture
• you then begin apologizing profusely to the bunny as it scurries away from the bright flash of your camera
• how pretty, you think, as you look to the woodland before you to see the sun peak through the expanse of tree branches
• another flash of white permeates the area for a mere second, watching intently as the polaroid begins to fade into the hues of green you were going to miss once september arrives
• thump! thump! thump! thump! thump!
• you’re not given a second to react to the sudden acceleration of hastening footsteps from behind you before you’ve tackled to the ground
• your beloved camera shatters from the force and all the photos you’ve kept stashed in your pocket fly into the air before you
• fear surges through you like some form of drug, as you begin to beat and strike against your assailant
• you’re weeping as you use all the strength within your body to punch your attacker, all while they give you words of solace as they try to restrain you in the kindest way possible
• they manage to grasp hold of your wrists and pin them beside your face, letting you get a clear image of the assailant
• those wide brown eyes, sleek facial structure, and tall frame: this was no other than the cute boy from the front desk
• you and dylan are so close to one another and you could practically taste the pulsating craving in his breath
• he wants you so bad; he needs you so, so bad the sheer feeling alone could just about kill him
• and by some brush of luck, those past thoughts of paranoia and insecurities of his have manifested into this undying desire for you
• without a blink of a second, his hands have grasped your head and his lips are on yours in a hysteric frenzy
• you paw at him in an attempt to get your aggressor off of you, but your efforts were futile as his lips remain locked upon yours
• it’s a mess of saliva and hushed moans against your lips, all while his heart races with enough force to shatter through his ribs and flesh, to where he would place the organ into your hands 
• right where it belongs
• polaroid ten blows in away in the wind, an eternal mark of your everlasting mistake.