Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

Heavy footsteps thundered across the farm, kicking up earth in her wake as she chased a girl with braids throughout it. Her eyes zeroed in, hands tightly gripping the axe she carried as the two of them sprinted forward as predator and prey.

Normally she wasn't like this. When a chase took too long, the Russian decided to cut her losses and go back to defend her generators before they were completed.

Not this time. Not this trial.

Anytime she had a trial with this sprinting fox, all her energy and time was consumed. It was as if this redhead enjoyed it. Taking advantage of the slower woman. Vaulting through windows and over fallen pallets. Circling her in a never ending mind game.

Anna prided herself in being a good hunter. An Apex in her forest. And here was something she could not catch.

It infuriated her.

But finally, here, she caught her in her mistake. The fox now running into her snare. Anna reached for her belt, retrieving a hatchet as her eyes locked onto the target ahead. This braided girl jumped over a wooden vault point, and the minute her feet left the air, so did the hatchet leave The Huntress’s hand into her prey’s back.

Except it didn't.

She watched the hatchet harmlessly give the girl a haircut as she jumped the window and immediately ducked into a crouch. The hurling weapon slammed into the wall behind her. The large woman only stood there a moment. Her brows furrowing behind the mask as she stared at this young woman in front of her, incredulously. The sprinting fox stood from her crouch, staring at the other with a smirk. Her hand reached up, waving at the other to ‘come on’, in some form of a taunt.

And unfortunately for her, it worked. The Predator snarled, rushing forward, the ground beneath her quaking at the force of her footsteps.

One could say she was angry. True. Frustrated and irritated. But beneath all of that.

She was living.

It had been far too long since she'd found a worthy hunt. And soon, she'd have a fox hanging from her hook.

—-----

They had been running nonstop the entirety of the match. Nothing could stop her from running after this fox. This fast redhead with braided hair. Anna didn't even notice the rate the generators were being completed, too consumed in throwing her hatchets at this lupine that moved like water to avoid them. Her body twisting at the very last second, making the projectile hurl past her and onto some poor unsuspecting object.

Once a hatchet hurled past her and into another man. One with rectangles on his face. The hatched buried deep against his leg, making him cry out. But the Huntress did not change her course. Instead she continued after the runner, with her narrowly avoiding the swinging arc of a blade by slamming down a pallet against her attacker’s head.

The annoyed growl resonated through her, shaking off the stars in her eyes before brutally demolishing the obstacle between them. Her foot smashed down on the wood effortlessly, continuing the chase. She could practically feel the taste on her tongue. The bloodlust fueling her and pumping strength into her legs.

It made her glide across the land, a hare eager to chase down its prey. Her hand moved smoothly to her side, retrieving another hatchet. She knew the way this fox moved now. There would be no stopping her. The hatchet raised above her head, steadying her aim as the runner checked over her shoulder. But with narrowing eyes, Anna purposely missed, aiming more towards the left, rather than dead center.

As the projectile came for her, the braided girl dodged left, only to have her eyes widen once the bladed weapon finally made contact with her. It sunk into her side, making her scream out and stumble over her footsteps. She pumped the remaining strength she had in her legs faster, trying to get away. But there were no more pallets. No vault points here. Nothing to save her.

Anna could feel the bloodlust growing within her, pure instinct coating her tongue and throat as it pulsed throughout her veins. The runner was panting hard now. Being chased and ran around for the entirety of the match seemed to be taking a toll on her stamina. And the pain of the gash that lovingly decorated her side screamed in defiance with every swing of her legs. That's what allowed the Huntress to catch up, raising the blade above her head for the final blow.

The chime of the doors being powered rang across the farm as she swiped down. But it seemed like this girl had grown wings. Adrenaline pumping through her body, the pure need of survival etching itself across her system as she picked herself up and hauled at a speed never seen before to the Huntress.

Her blade sliced through air harmlessly, narrowly missing the girl who sprinted forward towards the opened door. Anna skidded to a halt, axe hanging loosely at her side as she stared at this girl, who remained standing defiantly at the edge of the door. Bright blue eyes seared into hers behind the mask, a hand placed on the wound that was already beginning to fade.

The world around them slowly began to dissolve as the two continued to watch each other. Anna, more interested in the fierce and defiant gaze the other shot back at her. Not like the fearful and sniveling looks she got from the others.

Again, another bell rang, shaking the earth as cracks formed into the ground, revealing a bright, glowing aura of the fake world they inhabited. But the two continued to stare.

She could not catch her fox.

Meg slowly turned, walking towards the entanglement of blackened webs that Anna was never able to get past. With a final look over her shoulder, she jogged off, letting the Entity reclaim her yet again and send her off to the campfire.

—---

“Meg, you were amazing!” David grinned, wrapping his arm around her neck and bending her close to him. His free hand went up, giving her a friendly noogie.

Meg could only give her a small chuckle, placing her hand on him to shake him off as she walked back to the campfire. The fire felt good against her sore muscles as she sat down.

“You juked her that entire trial. She didn't even care about anyone else! You made her so mad” David sat beside her, offering a small ration of jerky. It was tough and hard to chew. But to a survivor that had been running for their life all trial, it might as well be heaven on earth.

Her teeth dug ravenously into it, tearing it up and looking for more to eat.

Claudette had joined them too, sitting down beside Meg. And eventually Dwight, still nursing the fading wound of the hatchet to his leg.

“Even when she misses, she still hits me” he frowned, sitting down as he lifted his pant leg up to clean and bandage the wound.

That earned him a small round of laughter from his companions around the fire. Claudette had walked over, helping him bandage up the remainder of the way. It was small respites like this between the trials that she always looked forward to. Just to be able to sit here, eat, rest, and wait. Sometimes they laughed, talked about their previous trial. Sometimes it was silent, everyone stuck in their minds of the constant deaths they had to endure.

Meg has died multiple times. Be it to a cleaver, a chainsaw, or the plethora of nightmarish ways her body was broken and contorted. Then her mind traveled back to the one killer who seemed to throw the entire match just for a chance to chase her. And if taking the Killer’s attention all to herself meant her teammates had a chance to leave unscathed, she'd do it again and again.

But that moment at the door, glaring at one of so many Killers that make their lives a living hell, she just…stood there. Not like the others, who'd rush the door even for a chance to get one last swing in. No. There was something mutual there. An understanding? Do Killers even understand? Empathy was not something they seemed equipped with. And with that face mask she wore, it was even harder to tell. Still, no hatchet was thrown her way. No vain chase to the exit, not even threats.

Just.

Staring and standing.

Come to think of it, has the Huntress ever done that before? Not like she can remember with her brain so wired to get out as quick as she could. This was the first time she ever got to look at the Killer. Just look. And then the trial ended.

—-

“Fuck, Marry, Kill. The Killers. Go”

Nea was the one to start the conversation as a few others had been taken to a trial. Meg was resting back against a log, comfortably hugging a knee as she listened to this insane question.

“Oh that's easy. I'd fuck Ghostface, Kill the Cannibal, and marry Wraith. I feel like he'd be a sweet husband~” the answer came from Laurie, who was cleaning underneath her fingernails.

“Really? I'd fuck the Spirit, Kill Ghostface and Marry the Nurse. She's a misunderstood soul, truly.”

Casual chatter filled up around the campfire. It was nice, these moments of normalcy in their otherwise nightmarish life. Everyone had their own ideas of the Killers. How they'd be in bed or how they'd be domestically. There was a battle between ‘Team Trapper’ and ‘Team Executioner’, and a very heated debate on if the Executioner’s butt looked smaller than usual.

“You guys are SLEEPING on the Huntress” was the voice of Yui. The name of the specific killer seemed to bring Meg back into the conversation.

“You can't go around mentioning who you'd want to fuck or marry and not even mention her. A big buff woman able to throw me over her shoulder? If she wasn't a psychopath I'd hit that in the real world.”

“She might just break you in half and leave you there, unfortunately” the words left Meg's lips before she could stop them.

But it was too late and a mischievous grin spread across Yui’s face.

“Oh, so sorry~ I shouldn't speak about your girlfriend that way.”

“Wow, never call her that again” her displeasure only brought about more playful ribbing.

“Oh please, we all see how she only chases YOU whenever we're all in a match together. It's like she forgets everyone exists”

Meg held her tongue, because it wasn't even a lie. Whenever she had a trial against the Huntress, she would be running the entire match, unable to even sniff a generator. But…she liked it. She liked seeing the large woman so easily riled up from not being able to catch her. It was the one small joy she had in this otherwise miserable existence.

Her silence only made Yui’s shit eating grin wider.

“I bet she likes redheads,” the street racer said, sitting beside Meg who only looked away from her with furrowed brows.

“Nah, I bet she thinks you're hot” Nea chuckled, joining in on the ribbing.

“Oh totally. So hot that she'd send a hatchet straight through my ribcage if she could” a scoff left Meg as she shook her head.

Another wave of laughter from the others. Thankfully, the topic shifted into something else. Something that didn't make the runner squirm in place from the cacophony of roasting she was receiving.

—-----

“We're almost out of food” Claudette frowned. It was true, their supply was running thin. And no one in their group was a true ‘hunter’ so to speak.

This is where she didn't understand the Entity. Force them into never ending games, sure, but at least feed them. How were they supposed to play if they were starving? Nothing ever passed by their isolated camp other than rodents anyway. Sometimes they'd get lucky and be sent to areas where they could scavenge for food and supplies if they were quick enough. Whatever small things they managed to get their hands on. One time Meg managed to get a bag of candy from a movie theater.

But reserves are thin. So maybe it was time for a few of them to venture out again. It's never advised. In fact, it was a despised job and something pushed back until it was the last resort. A wound inflicted out of a trial stayed. Like it would in the real world. But it was either that or go hungry. And stay hungry while being chased.

“Whose turn is it to go?” Meg asked.

Claudette remained frozen in place for a moment, staring out into the fogged horizon of the unknown. Meg recognized the fear in her friend, knowing it was her turn. She reached up, placing a hand on the other’s shoulder.

“Hey, it's okay. I can go for you”

Claudette snapped her head to the other, eyes wide in relief and joy.

“Really? Thanks Meg, you can have some of my rations for this”

Extra rations? Hell yeah.

With that, the others stepped up. Her, Dwight, David and Jake. When it came to leaving camp outside a trial, anything could happen. There were rules and laws in place during trials. Things able to be manipulated that gave the comfort of security. But there was no such comfort here in the unknown. Each step took them further and further away from security.

Their feet hit the ground, the terrain shifting a multitude of times. From soft patches of dead grass and hay, to cold and unforgiving gravel. But the fog remained the same, unable to discern where they were. Who knows how long they've been walking? It seemed like a never ending march for the quest of just stumbling into some food. Hopefully the others found some small mice in their traps at home in case they all came back empty handed.

Finally, the fog had seemed to clear, the four of them approaching the ever familiar farm in which they lost their lives in countless times. Death has lost all meaning now. All they know is pain.

They didn't necessarily know what a Killer did in their freetime. Did they ever have free time? Or were they always in a never ending hunt. Not wanting to find out, the four of them crouched low, slinking behind obstacles and barriers in case they heard the foreboding sound of a revving chainsaw. The farm was a good place to start. That Hillbilly was always tossing stuff left and right. Never seemed to finish his food either. The problem was…getting into the house unseen.

Their footsteps creaked along the floorboards, peering inside different cabinets of the house. Outside trials it looked…relatively tame. The blood soaked bathroom now tidy. One could almost call it a cozy farm house.

Almost.

“Check it out” whispered Jake, jerking a thumb over to a box in the corner. An old ice box from what Meg could remember back in her old high-school days. Something they used before fridges. And inside was an assortment of items. Where did he even get these?? Her eyes settled over the wrapped meats with hunger.

“Let's grab it and g-” her words were cut short from the sound of gargled breathing approaching.

Her heart sank, shoving a wrapped meat into Jake's arms as they all bolted from the scene.

Her feet kicked up the dirt behind her, feeling a burst of energy as she sprinted off once the sound of the chainsaw began revving. Her heart was in her throat, running as fast as she could to try and gain some distance. Of all killers that were faster than her, he was definitely faster. And that chainsaw was not fun.

The other three were lost in the haze, all scattering in different directions. Meg looked over her shoulder, seeing that the Hillbilly was trained on her, running as fast as he could towards her with an ethereal amount of speed. Her eyes widened, nearly splitting her ankles as she stopped on a dime and dove right, having the chainsaw whizz by her at Mach speed.

No time to stop and think, have to keep moving. Have to keep running.

And that's exactly what she did, the chainsaw menacingly echoing off in the distance the more she tried to further the space between them. Fog had consumed her once more. Blinding, suffocating and choking. The farm was far behind her now, but she still kept running. She'd meet the other's back at camp if anything.

The fog dissipated slowly this time, a tree passing once. Then again, and multiple times before a raindrop hit her nose. Rain?

There was no time to think before her foot fell firmly into a trap. The steel cage clamped shut, digging and ripping into soft flesh and tendons. Her scream echoed off across the forest, dropping down to her mangled leg as she tried to pry it off.

Trapper?? Here?! Her head snapped up, trying to blink past unshed tears as she desperately yanked on the contraption that kept her firmly in place. What the hell was one of his traps doing here of all places?! She wasn't anywhere near his stupid estate! Pain resonated across her body as the bite of the trap dug into her hands the more she pried at it. It finally opened with a stubborn hiss, releasing her now useless calf that had been torn to shreds. She took a closer look at what bit her, a trap, sure, but…modified. Made with nastier needle-like teeth to shred flesh like butter.

Normally, this is when she began to hear the rapid breathing of a monster man on a mission to come get her. But her eyes furrowed in confusion at what she heard instead.

Humming.

Her eyes shot wide open, spinning her head around to try and find the source of the song. Shit shit shit. She was in no condition to run now! Her eyes caught movement to the right, seeing a big and burly figure make its way from the cold underbrush of forested trees. The runner stumbled over herself, making a dash for the center of the forest as clumsily as she could. Anything to put distance between her and...her. The wounded woman hobbled as much as she could, trying to place weight on her shredded leg with no use. It only screamed at her in defiant pain, making her trip over herself and down a small hill. She landed in a large puddle that soaked her to the bone, causing the chill of the forest to sink its teeth into her. There was no time to sit and adjust. Her blood was pumping and her ears were ringing. Scanning her environment, Meg saw the entrance to a cabin. Her cabin. In trials, it looked so much different. Hazier, as if it really wasn't there. Or maybe an arm’s length away? Here it seemed tangible. Her head turned over her shoulder at the last second, seeing a familiar figure with their arm raised.

Eyes widened in fear, the runner hit the mud, letting the hatchet sail across her head and embed itself deeply against the side of the cabin. Scrambling to her feet, she ran for the door, busting it open with her shoulder as she tore her way through the home.

She didnt get very far though.

Something grabbed her by the arm, yanking her backwards with incredible force. But Meg was just as stubborn as she was reckless. She yanked back against the iron grip, throwing all her weight backward toward the table. It caught her Killer off guard, making The Huntress stumble forward after her. The table crashed on its side over them, spilling its contents all over the floor in an explosion of items and utensils.

The young woman thrashed against the ground, using her good leg to kick at the solid abdomen of her attacker, both of them wrestling on the ground to try and gain the upper hand. While the Huntress was strong, Meg was slippery and wet. She pulled herself away, nearly ripping skin off to try and run. But the Russian only grit her teeth, using both hands to grab at her ankles and forcefully drag her back to her. The pressure on her injured leg made her cry out in pain, digging nails into the wooden floorboard in a vain attempt to keep herself away. But the Huntress was simply too strong.

A heavy hand grabbed her shoulder, flipping her on her back. Meg looked up past painful tears to see the silhouette of her impending death by a psychotic rabbit woman. How would she do it? There were no hooks here. They weren't even in a trial. Not wanting to know, Meg clamped her eyes shut, turning her head away as she braced for the inevitable.

Except the inevitable never came. With the speed of a sloth, her eyes slowly opened, peeking at the other woman who just stared down at her. It was hard to discern her emotions behind that mask, but a frown was clearly displayed across her lips. Strong hands kept the lithe girl in place.

The world was silent around them, the two only staring at each other, much like they did back at the trial. A thousand thoughts ran through Meg's mind, trying her best to find anything behind that mask. But the frown only deepened as the Huntress slowly leaned forward, her lip curled in a snarl.

“If you're going to kill me then just do it already!” the redhead cried out. Her jaw clenched from pain, staring up at the other past her fear and rapid heartbeat.

The other woman did nothing, only slowly tightening her hold around the other's shoulders.

“Why are you here?”

The sound of the rain was the only response. Gentle raindrops pittering against the door as the only sound to fill up the room. The runner only blinked, staring at this behemoth of a woman in absolute surprise.

She talked.

She can talk? The confusion and surprise was palpable on her face, dripping down her throat. The two were locked in a pseudo embrace here on the floor of her cabin. Items strewn about in a chaotic mess from their fight. Why was she here?

“W-we were scavenging for supplies. I got chased here and stepped in a trap”

She assumed it made the other's brows furrow, watching her frown deepen as her grip tightened for a brief moment. Meg sucked in a breath, eyes wide and pinned onto the white Hare mask in front of her. The Russian pulled herself away, sitting on her knees as she mulled over this news. Meg slowly sat up, dragging herself away as the Huntress watched her.

“Well? Aren't you going to kill me?”

Silence was the only response, feeling the weight of the Killer’s stare over her.

“You are injured. I will not chase.” was all she said, standing up to her full towering height.

Huh???

“What does that mean? Are you going to kill me or what?” the runner repeated her question, heartbeat ringing in her ears.

The Killer either wasn't listening or outright ignored her, opting instead to pick up the table and items that spilled about in their fight. Once the place seemed tidy, her body turned towards the stairs, disappearing for a moment.

This didn't make any sense. An injured survivor in her home, almost a free meal ticket to any killer, and she just…left?! Her thoughts were reeling at what worse of a fate might be in store for her. But there was no time to waste, this was her chance to leave. Eyes drifted down to her useless leg with a frown, slowly pushing herself to stand up on her good leg.

She tested weight on the bad one and was immediately met with screaming pain that nearly caused her to topple over. Her hands reached out, catching herself on the table as she raised her useless leg in the air. The creaking of wooden floorboards made her lift her head up, watching as this towering woman had returned back with something in her hand. Her body tensed, waiting for a blow or, hopefully, a quick death.

“Sit”

Meg raised a brow at the command, her body’s natural instinct to be defiant and resistant. But it looked like the Huntress could sense that, looming over her with a deadened stare.

“...Why?”

“So I can fix your leg”

What.

The runner stared at her with an equal dead stare and almost laughed in her face. But her eyes traveled down to the items tucked in her arm. Looked like gauze, and some sort of small stone container.

“Fix me? Why? You're supposed to kill me”

But that only earned her a shake of the head.

“You are injured,” she repeated. “There is no trial. There is no chase”

“What, are you saying I'm not worth it now? Think I can't beat you?” her eyes narrowed, feeling small beads of sweat form on her forehead the more she let her hotheadedness take over.

But the Huntress was silent and unperturbed.

“You already lost. I let go of you.”

Again, only the sound of rain filled the cabin as Meg stared at this woman. She didn't want to admit she was right. She didn't want to admit that she was fully ready to lose her life right there on the floor. But here she was, arguing with someone that nearly tries to kill her on a daily basis.

“I still don't understand why you did. You always want to kill me.”

The Huntress remained unmoving, waiting for the other to take a seat in her large chair by the fire. The struggle of survival tugged at Meg's brain like a hot iron needle. Every fiber of her being telling her to run. But she couldn't. Eyes traveled down to the leg that bled profusely, staining the wooden floor below. After much internal struggle and debate, she obliged, moving towards the seat and rested herself there.

The Killer seemed to come to life after that, following her with surprisingly light footsteps. She crouched down, taking Meg's leg without permission and resting it against her knee. The runner could see the gears turning behind the dark eye holes of the mask, watching as the other carefully took a damp rag and began cleaning the area. Meg’s nails dug on either side of the chair, sucking in a sharp breath from the pain. For being a large and brutal woman as she was, her touch was surprisingly soft and gentle.

There were no words between them, as Meg let a Killer heal her.

The Huntress carefully opened the lid of the little stone container she had. Inside was a fragrant smell as two thick fingers scooped up what looked like an ointment. She applied it generously to the nasty wound and Meg nearly jumped out of her skin from the burning sensation.

“What is that?!” her reflex kicked in, pulling her leg away, but a strong hand kept her firmly in place.

“To not let sickness in. Be still.”

The description had her wracking her brain. Antibiotic maybe? Some homemade one. Once the burning settled down, so, too, did she. Her eyes kept firmly glued to this person that her and the others deemed a psychopath. Watching as she meticulously helped her with her injured leg.

“I never took you as someone to use bear traps” she said finally, breaking the silence.

“Not mine. Territory line is blurred. Belongs to another at the edge of my forest”

Ah, it seemed like Trapper likes to place his traps right at the edge of his land. She was unlucky enough to fall in it. Blue eyes watched these large hands deftly wrap the gauze around her bad leg. Her touch was warm. But all of this still made her head and stomach hurt.

“You're supposed to kill me.” Meg reiterated again. “Even if we're not in a trial. Everyone always does.”

The Russian picked her head up, watching the young girl. Despite her being crouched before the other on the seat, Meg came up to only a head taller.

“So what is this? Tell me the truth”

Anna only stared at her again in silence.

“There is no hunt for an injured animal. Only mercy. Death or healing. I chose to heal”

Meg stifled a groan. Her hands still subconsciously gripping the chair in fear, waiting for the ruse to be over and for a hatchet to embed itself in her ribcage. But the Huntress only calmly stared back, kneeling in front of her as the runner’s leg still rested over her knee.

“If I wasn't injured, would you have killed me?”

The question seemed to interest the Killer, making her tilt her head in thought. A gentle hand cupped the underside of her ankle, slowly lowering the leg to the floor as she stood up.

“No.” and that was it.

No elaboration. No nothing. That's all this Huntress gave her as she moved away, heading towards the fireplace. Her large hands easily palmed one of the chopped logs, setting it in the hearth.

Meg watched intently as this woman took a hold of fibrous hay nearby, making a tight bundled nest. Her head lifted up, taking two stones that rested above the fireplace as she struck it twice. Hot sparks fell over the hay, creating a small smoldering ember that the Russian gently wrapped with the fibers. Picking the hay bundle to her lips. She breathed life into it, letting the ember slowly build in smoke before it roared to life. Her hands tucked the lit hay bundle under the logs, letting the cozy fire begin to build and grow, consuming the logs.

It wasn't long before a crackling fire sucked the cold from her bones, letting her muscles relax a bit. She shifted a bit in her seat, warily watching her as the other just…went about her day. Taking a large black pot that she hung up over the pit.

“Why wouldn't you?”

“The Voice is not here to tell me. So I do not.”

A deep frown carved into Meg's lips as she processed the words given to her. It wouldn't be a surprise that Killers were told to kill. But she assumed this was their playground. A life full of nonstop torment that they can inflict upon others.

“So it tells you what to do? What happens if you don't kill?”

Anna regarded her with a hum, filling up the black cauldron with another bucket of water. She let it set to boil before turning her attention back to Meg, arms folded.

“I do not wish to find out”

—---

Meg sat there in that chair, muscles tight and hands clenching either side of arm rests. Her eyes never left the other woman as she mulled about the house. Her heart beat slammed against her ears the entire time.

The Huntress, in contrast, was busy preparing what looked to be a stew. The runner flinched a bit, watching her take a cleaver and whack it against a hunk of meat a few times against the table, but it was added into the growing pot of herbs and spices.

Meg didn't want to admit it, but it smelled delicious. Way better than anything the survivors back at camp could make. How long had it been since she had a good meal? The Killer placed a ladle in the pot, giving it a soft stir as her head slowly moved to the other. The redhead only narrowed her eyes in response.

“What?”

“You are wet.”

The sudden realization of sopping wet clothing hit her like a freight train. The fire did well to keep the chill at bay, but being in wet clothes was less than comfortable.

“Okay?” she retorted back in defiance.

“Take off your clothes. Hang them by the fire”

“No”

She couldn't see it due to the mask, but she could feel some sort of amusement peaking in the other. Anna tilting her head in surprise, taking the other in with her eyes before returning back to the pot. A defiant little fox.

“You will get sick.” was all the Killer said back, taking a spoon to her pot and bringing the broth to her lips to taste.

“Make me.”

“You will not win if I do.”

A stalemate. Meg tried to discern if the other was serious or not. The sound of a boiling pot and the crackling of fire filled the room. She looked down at her leg and then the other.

“Can you turn around?”

The Huntress stood there with a tilted head, staring at the girl in confusion for a moment. Still, she obliged, turning herself around and giving the girl her back and some privacy.

This was stupid. This was so stupid and she was doing it anyway. Shaky hands went up to her jacket, unzipping it slowly. The article of clothing peeled off of her easily as she set it aside. It made her feel exposed, gripping the hem of her shirt as she slowly lifted it above her head with a frown. This uneasy feeling of sitting in a murder’s home and undressing. But if The Huntress wanted to kill her, she would have done so by now right? She would have done it when they were wrestling on the floor.

I let you go.

The words still played in her mind, hands holding the hem of her pants as she just remained frozen in place. Just as she was about to argue again, something heavy flopped over her shoulders. Ice flared in her chest, eyes widening as she nearly jumped out of her skin. Her hands went over her, feeling something thick and relatively cozy.

A blanket.

Raising a brow, her head turned over her shoulder, catching a glimpse of the Killer that stood behind her. For someone so large and heavy, she moved relatively quietly. Meg didn't even notice she left the room, too absorbed in her own thoughts. Her brows furrowed a moment, gripping the blanket as she wrapped it around her body more.

“Thank you…” it came out as a mumble, shimmying out of her soaking wet athletic pants and setting it aside.

The other said nothing to her in response, only taking her clothes and placing them above the fire to dry. It was all so surreal, Meg’s head nearly began spinning. Too much information, too much revelation, dumped entirely onto her shoulders all at once. All she did was cocoon herself further into the blanket, closing her eyes as the fire warmed her from inside out. It came as a gentle surprise when her chair was pushed closer to the hearth.

Bright blue eyes only watched from her blanket nest. It all felt so…homey? Cozy? Was she even allowed to feel this way?

“So you are forced to kill.”

“Yes.”

“Do you enjoy it?”

“I used to”

The blatant honesty nearly made her eyes roll.

“What changed?”

The Russian thought for a moment, tasting her stew one last time. A steaming hot piece of meat popped into her mouth as she chewed the delicacy. But then, darkened eye holes turned to stare back at her.

“It became a chore. Nothing to hunt. Just mindless killing.”

“You like hunting me” a mischievous glint filled the other’s eyes as she spoke. Unable to stop the small jab from leaving her lips.

For a moment, she swore she saw the Huntress smirk, though it was hidden behind another bite of stew. Silence was the only thing to follow her, as the other woman grabbed two bowls, filling them to the brim with the piping hot meal. Walking back over to the runner, her hand outstretched, offering the bowl that easily fit in the palm of her hand, dwarfing Meg’s in comparison. The gesture was honestly surprising. The runner half expected her to just eat alone and make her watch.

Shaky hands tentatively reached out for the bowl, taking it with both her own. It smelled heavenly. Taking the spoon offered to her, she raised a bite to her lips, having the taste explode across all her sensations. Not waiting for it to cool down, Meg ravenously tore into it, nearly inhaling the entire bowl. The Huntress watched silently in response, sitting across from her in another chair as she ate.

“You eat like you run. Fast.”

It almost made her choke on her food as a chuckle escaped her. With a smile, Meg swallowed the large bite, lifting her head up to meet the other.

“Is that why you like chasing me for the whole match?”

A smile crossed the large woman’s face, taking her spoon as she, too, ate a bite of the freshly cooked meal.

“Yes.”

—----

The rain never really stopped here. There was always a light drizzle. Meg propped herself up by one of the windows of the cabin, head resting in her hands as she daydreamed off into the distance. Her leg was still entirely useless. Which was odd, normally, the wounds lasted for a few hours or so before they were back to normal. Not this time. Was it because this was received outside a trial? Blue eyes glanced back down to her injury, twisting her leg to and fro to glimpse at the fresh bandage job given to her.

The Huntress was…kind? It was weird. She still didn't know what to think about that. But between the meal, the hospitality and just…care, Meg’s guard lowered a bit. Her gaze lifted back out the window, watching as the other dragged in large pieces of wood. One by one, they were placed on a chopping block, easily cut down by the force of the mighty woman. Standing up, Meg lifted her bad leg into the air, hopping to the front door to get some fresh air.

Her hands reached up, pushing the door open as she struggled to get outside, the sound of the axe thundering off to the side. The sound of her approach made the Killer stop, holding the weapon above her head as she watched the runner with a keen eye. Slowly, the weapon lowered.

“What are you doing?”

Meg leaned heavily against wooden assortments as she made her way out.

“I wanted fresh air, but I can't exactly walk.”

The runner continued her attempt at moving, focused on making sure not to slip in wet mud. She took one more hop outside, only to feel a warm hand place itself on her side. With a surprised gasp, she lifted her head up, seeing the hulking physique of the burly woman next to her. Large hands placed itself on her hips, guiding her outside in the rain. Meg scanned the other’s face a moment with raised brows, allowing the help as the two made their way to a stump. The Huntress sat her down. With her hands on her hips, she gave Meg a once over. Despite not being able to see her eyes, Meg squirmed slightly under the meticulous gaze, shifting her eyes away. Today, the Killer was not in her normal attire. Instead, she wore a thick blue coat. Looked cozy against this harsh realm’s constant fatiguing cold. It made the redhead wish she brought more than the light jacket she had on.

The thought was cut in place as a heavy and deliciously warm coat was placed on her. The weight made her fumble forward a bit, touching the fabric around her shoulders before her head slowly turned back to the woman.

“...wont you get cold?”

“I will be okay.”

Her fingers wrapped tighter around the article of clothing, wrapping it more around herself as she watched with an idle eye at the other. Strong defined muscles raised the axe above her head, easily bringing it down against the sorry block of wood under her blade. Yui was right. She was a bara woman. Strong defined features that matched the life she lived.

“You make that look so easy.”

Another chop split two wood apart, as the Russian palmed another log to sentence it to its fate. The Huntress only grunted in response.

“You know, I can help too. With chores.”

The large woman palmed another log, turning her head to the younger woman with interest. Her head tilted a moment as she thought of the request. She never really had someone help with chores before. She never really had anyone in her cabin at all before this point. Even before the Voice had taken her. A thumb rubbed up and down at the handle of her axe in thought, head turning towards the assortment of things that needed to be done today. In truth, everything seemed to be a little out of the other’s league with her injury. But still, she wanted to indulge her. Something about that look in her eyes made her want to.

There was something she could do.

The Huntress reached forward towards one of the chopped logs. She took it with her towards the other, placing it on her lap. A large hand went towards her hip, unclasping a hatchet and handing it to her as well.

“Here. You can make tinder for the fire tonight.”

It was such a surreal experience to have the weapon that had nearly claimed her life be placed in her lap so casually. Her hands ran across the oak haft, fingertips ghosting along the smooth wood that widened near the top to accommodate the threatening blade. Her hand gently curled around the handle tightly, lifting it up to her face.

And then she saw her reflection in it. Sorry, dirty, wet, and pathetic. Lost forever in a nightmare with no way out, staring at a hatchet that she could practically hear mocking her.

The Killer stood there motionless for a moment, watching the others reaction carefully to her weapon of choice. Confusion really hit her with the other’s shoulders began to shake, tears silently streaming from her glaring gaze. It made the larger woman freeze in place, feeling as if she’s done something wrong.

“I am sorry. Do you not like this job?”

Meg lowered her head towards the hatchet, holding it tightly before reaching up and wiping her eyes.

“I don't understand why we’re here. I dont understand the roles we were given. You’re- you-” she grit her teeth, leaning forward and tucking her head to hide her face, feeling so stupid and pathetic for crying in front of this Killer.

“I’m what?”

“You’re nice! And helpful! And a prisoner. Just like the rest of us. Except YOU dont get to live in constant pain and torture like we do. You have it easy.” Meg suddenly snapped her head up, glaring at the other woman. It made Anna frown, her brows creasing as pain tugged at her heartstrings.

She struck her axe in the dirt, crouching in front of the poor girl. Her eyes trained on her face. How bright her eyes were, even in the gloomy weather of her forest.

“I am sorry.”

“Don't apologize! It makes it worse” the other hiccuped, trying to compose herself from the tears that shed.

“What can I do to make it better?”

The question struck Meg, closing her eyes as her jaw clenched, clutching the hatchet to her chest.

“There’s nothing you can do.” Meg placed a hand over her face, trying to hide in vain in front of the masked woman. Shaky breaths sucked into her lungs as the constant tears flowed down her cheeks. The hatchet still remained close to her.

A sudden gasp left her lips, feeling herself being pulled into an embrace. She stayed frozen and rigid for a moment as the other encased her in a warm and strong hug. Meg’s head slowly rested against her chest, the solid rhythm of a pulsing heartbeat thundered against her ear.

“Do not cry, please.” the woman pleaded, her tone of voice surprising to Meg. Normally she was stoic and silent.

Slowly, the redhead brought her arms up as well, wrapping them around her. Her eyes closed, melting into this strong wall of security. It was strange. For the first time in a long time, she felt safe. Safe, encased in the arms of a Killer.

Pulling away, Meg wiped her eyes, sniffling a tad as she looked down at the weapon between them. The Huntress' rough hands reached forward, ready to take it from her but the younger woman kept hold of it.

“I'm okay. Let me make the tinder for you.”

The Huntress retracted her hand from her. No words exchanged, just a cocked head and a comforting squeeze to her shoulder. The gesture made the redhead grip the hatchet tighter a moment, keeping her head low to hide her face.

The rest of the day was quiet as the two women busied themselves with their tasks.

—--

The fire crackled in the fireplace as night settled outside. Meg stared at the roaring flames, resting her chin on her knees as she thought back to the others. Hopefully no one was wandering around and looking for her. And hopefully they managed to get that meat back to the others to eat.

Speaking of eating, her eyes moved over to the other woman, reheating the stew from earlier. Again, a bowl was presented in front of her, Meg taking it from her hands. She played around with her food for a bit, glancing over at the masked woman.

“Thank you. For everything.”

“You do not need to thank me.” the Huntress responded, placing a bite of food into her mouth.

The two ate in silence, Meg placing a bite of food into her mouth as she continuously glanced over at the other.

“What is it, little fox?”

The nickname made her raise a brow, a small smile tugging on her face.

“Little Fox?”

“Quick and Quiet.” her head lifted a moment, regarding her in such a way that Meg shyly glanced away.

“With shining red hair”

A smile quickly cracked over Meg’s lips, bringing her eyes back to the other.

“Is that why the Huntress likes to chase me so much? Fox hunting?”

The Killer only cocked her head at the name.

“Huntress?”

Oh.

Come to think of it, the names they came up with weren't exactly true were they? The group just made up names that seemed to fit the Killers. And for her, they came up with The Huntress. It just sorta stuck.

“Oh. Uh. That's the nickname we gave you”

The larger woman mulled this information over. The Huntress, huh? Seemed about right. It wasn't exactly a lie. Her eyes motioned towards the fire, resting her gaze on it as the sound of crackling embers filled the air. Slowly, her head turned, returning her sight back onto the other woman in her home. There was a slight hesitation on her lips before they finally parted.

“Anna”

Meg’s brow lifted, watching her through furrowed brows.

“Anna.” she repeated back to her, the word thick on her tongue. The Huntress remained still as stone, as if any sudden movement would shatter this delicate moment they shared together. How long has it been since she's heard her name dance across the lips of another?

“Anna” Meg said once more, trying to comprehend this information. The more she invoked her name, the more the Killer’s chest pulled, keeping all her attention on this small fox who had all but captivated her in this moment.

Anna only nodded her head, eyes never leaving her.

The world felt sour on Meg’s tongue. She slowly put her bowl down, unable to stomach an appetite. She had a name. She had a name and a life and was brought here, same as everyone else. She was a person. Something as simple as a name peeling back years of assumptions and hatred.

“Anna” she whispered again for a third and final time. Darkened eye holes of a mask stared into brilliant blue ones. She saw the ocean, she saw the sky, she saw memories of another life, and she saw the sadness of this one. It made her sit up straight a bit, as if those eyes could see right through her.

“And…you?” it came out a little higher pitched than normal, herself consumed by this moment. By this…woman in front of her.

The redhead only stared back.

“Meg.”

“Meg” the Huntress repeated back to her.

The runner slowly nodded her head, nearly feeling a shiver crawl up her spine as her name left the other's lips. She wanted to hear it again and again.

—--

Their life had become somewhat routine. Something Anna wouldn't have expected being here in the realm of the Voice. In the beginning, she didn't care where she was. She had her forest and her cabin, that was all she needed. Occasionally, the Voice would claim her, taking her somewhere close by and miles away all at the same time. Claiming her and her talents as a Huntress to feed it the cries and desperation of all the sorry souls that came her way.

That's what they were all here for. To feed it.

But now, a new purpose blossomed in her chest. Every passing day, the little fox grew stronger in her steps. And everyday, Anna cleaned and rebandaged the wound, making sure to be soft and gentle. The braided girl was so defiant and resistant in the beginning, with good reason, but now, she allowed Anna to help. Sometimes even sitting beside her by the fire, as opposed to across from her.

It made her chest sing with fire at the thought, to be in the presence of someone like her. And it made her all the more determined in her hunts, wanting to bring back the finest cuts of meat to make the finest of meals for her. Though a worry did often plague her mind at times. Once she would be fully healed, would she leave? Would the Russian be left alone to herself once more?

Isolation was never a problem. It was nice, especially when it came to the other Killer's that bordered her domain. They were dull and annoying, save for a few. However…

This girl was different. Anna oftentimes found herself thinking back to the other when on her hunting trips. Wondering if she was alright. Wondering if she'd find her there, still, when she returned. The answer was always the same. The Huntress would come back, dragging her hunt for the day behind her, and the sprinting fox would be there waiting for her. Recently, however, she found herself returning back to a smiling fox.

And everytime she came home to that smile, it made her world stop in place.

Light footsteps echoed across the ground as her mind began to wander. Maybe one day the little fox would like to accompany her on one of these trips? The gloomy atmosphere and constant rain weren't exactly enticing, but it was all just so she could spend more time with her.

As Anna's mind wandered off into a fantasy of red hair and blue eyes, a contrast of color brought her back to the present. Something bright in her otherwise dark forest. Her brow raised, heading towards the source of it as she looked up at the explosion of color by her head. A smile tugged at her lips. The Voice’s world was nothing to make sense of. The more you thought about it, the more you were met with a brick wall. However, there were soft moments like this, that she relished in the fact that nothing made sense at all.

Calloused hands reached up, taking a small bushel of yellow flowers from their base. They were long on a vine and huddled together cutely, as if savoring each other's company. This would do nicely. This is sure to make her fox smile when she returns. Delicately, the Russian placed the vine in her pouch, letting the flowers dangle out as to not crush them.

A soft animal cry in the distance made her head shoot up, a hand instinctively heading for her hatchet. The Hare was out in her forest again. And nothing was safe from her.

—--

She returned back to the cabin, a small deer being dragged back to her home. It wasn't the biggest she'd ever caught, but truth be told, she just wanted to get back to the house. To see if that gir– Meg was still there. Despite her not having left yet, it was still a source of anxiety for the older woman. The home felt so alive with someone else in it. She didn't want to go back to the cold, alone.

Her head lifted up, catching the cabin in view. Her eyes peered through the window where the fox liked to rest, seeing familiar red hair decorating the view. It made her sag her shoulders a bit in relief.

She continued hauling the animal, bringing it up under the safety of the wooden overhang, away from the rain. In an instant, the front door opened, and the young woman hobbled out. She was leaning heavily on a wooden branch she found, the sight of it making Anna tilt her head a bit, but said nothing.

“That was fast,” the redhead said, reaching forward to drag her hand along the fur of the animal. For a moment, she swore she saw the Huntress puff her chest up a bit in pride.

“Easy to find. Wanted to bring it back quickly”

Wanted to get back to her quickly, more like it. To see if she had finally been abandoned or not. But here she was, bright eyed and bushy tailed. Something about that fierce look in her eye made the older woman want to know everything about her.

Meg’s attention was to the deer. This was a life unlike any she's ever lived before. It made her miss the privilege of modern convenience. Going to grocery stores and buying her favorite drinks. Here, you have to make do. And boy does Anna know how to make do. She could make anything. And hunt anything.

“Can you teach me how to skin it?”

A spark of interest washed over the older woman who had busied herself by undoing the ropes around her kill, getting it ready to hang.

“Hm. Can you stand?”

“Yes” the runner lied. It wouldn't be the first time she overworked a bad leg. But this was something she really wanted to do.

The Russian stared at her skeptically, her eyes dropping down to the bandages that needed to be changed again.

“Hey! I promise I'm okay. Let me prove it”

Against her better judgment, Anna tied the feet of the animal to her rope. Said rope was thrown over a thick tree branch before being yanked to hoist the animal high. Meg watched all this with keen interest, watching how the Huntress was able to move this animal like nothing. Then she remembered how easily she picked survivors up in the trials. How would it feel to be lifted like that, she wondered?

The thought was immediately stomped out of her mind, forcing herself to focus back to the task at hand.

A carving knife was handed to her. The wooden handle thick and worn down from use, but the blade viciously sharp, glinting in the low light.

“Make a small cut here, pull skin back and cut the white tissue, don't go too deep”

Her leg was screaming at her to stop, to sit and rest. But Meg was no such girl. She barked back at pain, no matter how much it bothered her.

Under watchful instruction, Meg pulled the skin back, small cut after small cut. Her hand became more confident in the strokes, pulling the skin back as she continued to undress the animal. The knife flowed in her hand like a paint brush on a canvas. All the while, she could feel the nodding approval of the other woman beside her. It made her continue with pride, before finally releasing the hide off the carcass.

A heavy hand squeezed her shoulder making her flinch and look up in surprise. But all she saw was the smiling face of the Huntress who leaned in close.

“Good job, little fox. Your first pelt”

It took a minute for the words to register, but when they finally hit her brain, the runner had no control over the light color that touched her cheeks.

“O-oh. Yeah. It was no biggie. Had a good teacher”

This girl's words were funny but the latter part of the sentence made her smile.

“We will have a good meal tonight”

“Can I help?”

A soft laugh left the burly woman, following the other inside the warm home.

“Of course”

—--

She watched carefully as Meg leaned heavily on a branch that was too tall for her. But it didn't seem to phase the runner at all, making due with what she had. Said runner was bent over the signature black pot that hung over the fire, stirring slowly as she did her best to flavor to taste. Nothing could compare to Anna’s cooking. Still, she wanted to do some good. To show she wasn't just a moocher here in this woman’s home. The home that slowly began to smell like warmth and spice. Meg pulled her eyes away from the bubbling broth, lifting it to the woman who sat in her chair across from her.

They stared at each other a moment, Anna rooted in place under the gaze of blue ice.

“Can I ask a personal question?”

The Huntress only gestured with her head as a response.

“Do you ever take off the mask?”

She could feel the stare boring into her as Anna sat in her chair, silent.

“I do.”

“I see…why haven't you taken it off around me?”

The tall woman leaned back in her seat a moment, looking up at the ceiling in thought. Truth be told, it was a comfort. No one sees her face except herself. No one in the Voice’s trials and none of the others she is meant to hunt and feed to it. It acted like a protective shield, a final grace from her mother to hide behind.

“Because I have never done so before.”

At the sound of heavy and strained footsteps, she lowered her head back down, finding the lithe woman in front of her. Her face was nearly at the same height as the other’s as she sat.

“Would you like to?”

Would she? The girl in front of her made her feel light and safe, which came as a calming thought. Despite her brutal nature, fear and anxiety plagued her all the same, just like anyone else. Her fingers drummed against the armrest of the chair a moment in thought.

There was no trial here. No voice. Just her.

Just Meg.

And she always wanted to indulge in the fox’s wants.

Eyes closed, a calloused hand reached up, gripping her mask before slowly removing it off her face, veil trailing behind it. The first thing she noticed was the warmth, and how the heat of the fire touched her cheeks, then her eyes opened, and she saw Meg. The girl stood tall in front of the woman who tried to kill her so many times. She saw blue eyes again, wide and darting everywhere, taking her all in. Taking in every blemish and feature. Anna wanted to shrink away right then and there, but brown eyes continued to watch, letting the other drink to her heart’s content.

The runner was marbled in place, eyes wandering on their own as this mystery woman revealed herself. A humbling act that did not go unnoticed by her, sensing that the other was wary from the start.

A few weeks ago, Meg only saw this woman as a monster. A nightmare, something to avoid and mock. Something wicked that the Entity let roam around and play.

But here.

Pulled away from the shadows of a nightmare.

Peeling back layer upon intricate layer.

Was a person she never knew existed.

A strong jawline that connected to the muscle of her neck. Accentuated cheekbones adorned with scars from a previous life. Deep, rich, and beautiful brown eyes that matched her hair. Thick and shoulder length, pulled back neatly by a piece of blue cloth around her head.

“Wow” she whispered. But it only made Anna squirm in place, never feeling so naked and exposed before. She could feel the heat of embarrassment slowly climb her cheeks.

“How did you get the scars?” the runner asked in a soft tone, leaning against her makeshift crutch.

“Mh” the older woman grunted, momentarily eased as her mind wandered to the past. “Bear. Came too close to her babies.”

Finally, her eyes met the other again. Her stomach flipped at the sight, watching as the light of the fire behind Meg casted a silhouette. The outer edges of her body highlighted in orange and yellow, accentuating that ice blue gaze that reminded her of home.

Meg was lost in her own way as well. Never realizing the depths people can hold just by the power of their eyes. Deep, rich, invigorating brown. Lost in the taste of honey, the smell of chocolate and cinnamon, all of which came just from the blue meeting them.

“You uh…you look good by the way” admitted the red head rather shyly. Had the two met in another life, there was no doubt in her mind that she would have been interested in the older woman in some way. Mature, strong and confident, living a rugged lifestyle? There was no way the runner would have left her alone.

The comment made Anna raise a brow, cocking her head to the side.

“I do?”

A giggle escaped Meg’s lips, not expecting such a foreboding woman to inquire of such a thing.

“Yes, you do.”

She could see all of her now. Her expressive brows and face gave away what she was thinking long before her lips did. Right now, her brows were lax over an inquiring gaze that hung over the young woman. Meg sheepishly turned her head away.

“Thank you for showing me, by the way.”

The words hung in the air, making Meg contemplate and overthink the possibility of making Anna feel she was placed on the spot.

But no.

She was met with a firm and warm embrace.

How strange that these hands can be so kind after a lifetime of cruelty against her. Her gaze softened, releasing her hold on the branch to wrap around her Killer. It thudded to the ground with a soft rattle as she lifted her bad leg up off the ground, placing her weight into the other. She was lost in the fabric of material where her head rested. Eyes closed, listening to the deep and rhythmic heartbeat of the other. She didn't even notice the gentle and subtle movements of the larger woman. It was only when something delicately brushed up against her cheek did she open her eyes.

Anna was focused on something behind her ear, and it made her stare up in confusion. Her hand reached up, feeling the soft plush of petals before a smile began to grow on her face.

“Did you get me a flower?”

“Yes. I found it while out today”

The gesture was kind and sweet, feeling a warmth bloom across her chest as she pulled the flower to get a good look at it. What a beautiful yellow color. Her head tilted just a bit, recognizing some familiarity with it. She would always listen to Claudette speak about different kinds of flowers and plants. A botanist’s love. One of which were small, tightly packed, little yellow flowers that all huddled onto a stem with frayed out leaves.

“Acacia” murmured the runner, looking up at the woman who had brought her such a sweet thing.

“My friend told me about this flower. It’s called an Acacia.” her hands reached up, placing it back behind her ear where her Killer had placed it.

Anna’s eyes only watched gently through a soft gaze.

“Pretty”

It was the only word that left her, and left Meg a neon version of herself as she tried to regain her composure.

—--

A day the same as any other. Anna found herself asleep in front of the fire, making a makeshift bed out of pelts while she had given her bedroom to Meg. The redhead would always ask her if she wanted to sleep there. To take the bed, let her sleep by the fire.

But Anna never wanted that. She liked how cozy the little fox looked all tucked away in her bed. How the large bedding cocooned her in a nest of safety. Or how her red locks fell around her across the pillow like a plumage of fire. Her daydreams of the sleeping woman were interrupted by the groan of old stairs, signaling the other’s approach. It made her lift her body from the array of pelts she’d been sleeping on. Mornings were her favorite. Mornings she got to make breakfast for the girl. Experimenting with different flavors and tastes to see what the other liked best.

The large woman slowly rolled over on the bed of pelts, ready to sit up and start her day. Yet as she took her first step forward, the room slowly dissipated from view. The black fog of smoke overtaking her, placing a familiar weighted weapon into her hands. And the covering of a mask on her face.

She forgot how suffocating this thing can be. How it selfishly dug into her lungs while pulling her into an unfamiliar land. Bare feet planted against cold dirt, the fog slowly pulling itself out of her lungs and throat, allowing her a drink of the cold air surrounding her. Blinking her vision back into place, Anna lifted her head up, catching sight of a large brown building. The only color that decorated her view was a stained glass window.

She brought her attention back down, searching around her. Wooden walls, windows, and hooks that gleamed menacingly in the light of this new area. Her hands wrapped tightly around her shaft of her axe, staring blankly out into the distance.

A new trial. A new game.

Her back straightened, humming a familiar tune that brought her great comfort whenever she was pulled under the eyes of the Voice. It wanted to be fed again, and it chose her to feed it.

Bandaged feet hit the dirt, scouring the land for her prey. Food for another. They never did well to hide from her. Too loud, noisy, and uncoordinated. It had been sometime since her last game. Normally she liked the shake up in her routine, despite not enjoying the games as much as she used to. But this time, she couldn't wait for it to be over, so she’d be able to return back to Meg.

Her stride became longer, gait elongating as she zeroed in on the tracks left behind by one of the four fawns left in her den. Footprints, scratches left in dirt, the flattening of grass and plants. The eagerness to end this all flooded in her mouth. But all the tracks seemed to stop in one location, halting the Huntress in place. Her brow rose, searching to and fro for some kind of indication of where they ran off too.

Or hid.

How annoying. She hated playing hide and seek. But if that’s how they chose to die today, then so be it.

It didn't take her too long to zero in on the short, ragged and fearful breath of someone tucked behind a boulder. Not wanting to waste any time, the hulking woman threw herself around the corner, axe raised high above her head to slam down.

The cowering fawn screamed, raising her arms up in a vain attempt to shield her from the onslaught. And that’s when she caught a glimpse of it.

R e d.

She careened her axe off to the side at the last second, having it bounce off of the boulder and showering the two of them in sparks. Instantly, the Killer turned her face to the girl. At first, the sight made her brows furrow in complete confusion. This was not her little fox. This was another with red hair. And rectangles on their face as well.

She slowly picked herself up to her full height, axe hanging limp by herself as she stared down at this girl. Another, that looked like the one back at her home.

What happens if you don't kill?

The question rang back into her mind, remembering oh so many nights ago of when the fox first stumbled into her doorstep.

Her eyes were wide, staring down at this petrified fawn that trembled like a leaf in front of her. The survivor’s arms slowly lowered, not feeling the connection of a blade to her skin.

A generator had quickly chimed in the distance, but this hulking woman could only continue to watch as this red haired woman slowly backed away from the predator before her. Her eyes never leaving her. Against better judgment, Anna followed, her blade obediently staying at her side.

She would do this for her. She would not hunt for her.

This new red haired woman only occasionally looked over her shoulder to peer at the other. Her head swiveled on her neck like a satellite to catch the ruse. The joke or prank. But Anna only kept her hand at bay, watching the girl with intense curiosity.

She had situated herself to a generator, deft hands slinking into the machine to pull out the torn wires, connecting them together with a twist. This was the first time Anna had actually witnessed them try to fix it. Her mind no longer consumed with getting them off, she saw the different dials, buttons, wires. Things she’d never seen before in her life.

Soon, this red head was joined by another. A man with a green jacket who peeked his head around the corner of a rock to see them.

“Uh, Mikaela?”

“Jake, seriously do not ask. Just get over here and fix this”

Unsure eyes looked up at the Huntress once more, taking a few more steps as he, too, sat beside her. His bigger hands fiddled with levels and cranks to tune the machine to the correct pressure.

“She’s not…doing anything. What’d you do to her?”

“I didn't do anything, she was about to hit me and just stopped. Then she followed me here and is just…watching” the two looked up at her as if she couldn't understand them.

“I don't get it. Is she broken?”

All the Russian did was stand there, watching with keen eyes as their hands expertly fixed a machine that might as well be alien to her. The heavy hunk of metal slowly chugging faster and faster to life, pistons chugging fuel deep into the systems below. The two survivors exchanged glances, slowing down their speed the closer they got. But there was no change in her demeanor, just idle curiosity.

Soon, the three of them were showered in light as electricity surged through the fixed machine. The Huntress took a step closer, making the two of them scatter backwards away from her. But she did not chase, only leaned forward to really look at what exactly they spent their lives fixing.

She couldn't understand a lick of it.

Jake and Mikaela stood rigid as this behemoth stood to her full height again. Her eyes fell on Jake, then turned towards Mikaela, lingering on her a moment. With a jerk of her head, she motioned them to follow her.

The confusion was palpable on their faces, staring at each other incredulously before slowly and hesitantly following this woman. This has never happened before.

“Guys, what the hell are you doing!?” a heated whisper came to their right, Yui ducked behind a vault point as Anna deliberately walked past her.

“Are you insane? Following her?? Get over here and help me with this gen!”

“No, Yui, look” Jake waved at her to come. “She’s not doing anything. We literally did a gen in front of her and she just watched us”

The disbelief was evident on her face, contorting it into a sneer.

“Now is seriously not the time to joke, Jake.”

“I’m serious! Just come out, look”

The blonde turned her head, peering over her safety to watch as the Killer stared directly at her. She instantly ducked behind cover, getting ready to feel the wind of a passing hatchet. But nothing came. Slowly, her head peeked out once more, watching the other watch her.

In all honesty, it was amusing to Anna, watching them like little cats slowly work the courage to stand beside her. This was way more fun than chasing them.

The trio of fawns soon followed behind her as she led them to another generator. Yui continued to stare at her with mistrust, slowly walking over to their ticket to freedom. Chugs, clanks, and hisses filled the immediate area as the three of them quickly got to work.

“What did you do to tame her?” Yui finally spoke up, breaking the silence.

“I have no idea. She was about to hit me and then stopped. Then she just started following me.”

The street racer creased her brows, staring between her and the tall Russian that stood idly beside them.

“Pft. No way.”

The other two stared at her.

“What?”

“I guess she really does like redheads.”

The comment elicited a small smirk from the burly woman, unable to contain it. Maybe she does like redheads. A certain one at least.

“I do”

All three survivors stopped on cue, slowly turning their heads to this woman who has killed them a multitude of times. Eyes wide, jaws slack. Somewhere in the distance, another generator chimed.

“You can speak!?” The comment came from an incredulous Jake, who shot up to his feet. Anna turned her head to him.

“I can.”

“So this whole time you can speak and understand us!? Why the fuck are you killing us!?” The heat of hatred was instant coming from the three, all off the generator now as they turned their aggression towards the Killer.

She only remained where she stood, unbothered by their emotional outburst.

“I do what I am told. But not today.”

Mikaela was the first to speak at that.

“What does that even mean??”

Do all survivors ask the same questions?

“The Voice tells me to kill. But I will not.” her head dropped towards the other. “I do not want to anymore.”

SIlence consumed everyone, staring at this Killer who had admitted something never thought possible.

“Isn't this like- your paradise or something? Don't you enjoy it?” Jake frowned.

“No.”

She didn't feel like wasting her words. Not when she wanted them to just finish their task so she could go home. Back to a blue eyed girl. Back to Meg.

“Hey, wait. You can't just say that and leave!” Yui began walking after her.

Anna only led them to another generator, the shaft of her axe planted firmly into the ground as she leaned against it.

“What the hell! How can you say something like that and just leave!”

The Russian only stared back blankly. It made Yui suck her teeth in annoyance.

“I’m not gonna do any generators until you talk to me”

As soon as she spoke those words, another generator chimed to life, a light fixture erupting in light and sound. Anna turned her head to it and slowly went back to Yui.

While this blonde may not be doing any generators, the other two had different opinions, crouching down to stick their hands in the oiled machine to start cranking it to life.

“Guys, what are you doing? This is our chance to finally get some answers, stop doing the gen!”

Her head swiveled back to Anna, who was comfortably propped up against her axe.

“Are all Killers told what to do? Can they stop? What happens if everyone just stops killing? Can we get out of here?”

The questions absolutely spilled out of this woman, and it made her head hurt. Anna frowned at the nonstop rush of words that flowed out of her mouth like a crescendoing waterfall. She didn't have the answers to everything. All she knew was herself and what she wanted.

“I know not of the others. I only act for myself. And I am choosing to let you go.”

It wasn't a completely satisfying answer, but she can see the look of acceptance coming from the others. It was another piece in this otherwise terrifying puzzle.

The last generator finally rang. Signaling the powering of the gates. What normally would have been a death match between two doors became a leisurely stroll. Three survivors and a terrifying Russian walking up to one of the large gates.

“So, does that mean you won't kill us in games anymore?” Mikaela inquired as the three of them walked past dead gardens and wooden structures.

“No. Not anymore. I am tired.”

It was strange how easy this was the whole time. Just let them go. What power does a Voice have if they go hungry? There was an odd buzzing sensation in her chest, however. But she dismissed it as just nerves.

“Can you convince the others not to?”

“I cannot. That is their decision to make.”

Anna made her way up to the gate, staring at the contraption that is used to open them. She’s never opened one of these before. Her head cocked to the side, reaching up to grab the handle and yank it down.

She stood like that for a while, expecting something to happen. A sound, a groan of metal. But nothing did. Just silence. Her brow raised in confusion as the seconds ticked by, her body slowly turned to the other three.

“Am I doing something wrong?”

The other three looked just as dumbfounded as she did.

“Something’s not right, step aside a sec” the blonde chimed in, walking up beside her.

Anna obliged, taking her hand off the lever to allow the other to inspect.

She tried in vain as well, taking it and yanking it downward. But there was no spark of electricity. No groaning sounds of gears churning or hunking metal moving behind the scenes.

“We did all the gens right? How come these things aren't powered yet?”

No one really had a clue. That’s usually how the game worked. Survive, repair, run.

Except.

There really wasn't a need for survival this time?

She could feel this odd buzzing in her chest again. A constant nagging drone that vibrated throughout her being. At first, she was able to shake it off for a bit. Giving a few coughs to itch this bizarre tickle that erupted within her. But the nagging became worse and worse by the second.

She stopped listening to whatever the others were saying. Her focus being driven by this feeling of a red hot needle being poked through the soft tissue of her brain. This obsessive need. This crazed desire. It’s almost as if her body wasn't her own to control. Sweat dribbled from her head, taking a step back.

Something was calling to her.

She swallowed a dry lump in, her head slowly turned around, eyes being drawn to a hook, and the insatiable amount of blood that called to her.

The Voice was hungry.

But a deep frown carved on her face, ripping her eyes away from the hook.

No.

She will not be feeding it today.

She won't feed it today.

She won't feed it tomorrow.

She will never feed it ever again.

“Whoa, are you okay? You don't look good” Jake raised a brow, looking over at the Huntress who had gone pale and drenched with sweat.

Her body trembled, as if poisoned and sick. She met Jake’s eyes, slowly shaking her head.

A surge of energy pulsed through her body with this man being so close to him. An order. A command. Her mouth filled with drool and saliva, feeling another’s will creep over her own.

Kill it.

But she would not.

For her little fox.

Her decision was final, glaring out into the distance. Glaring out at it.

It did not like that answer.

The ground beneath her feet began to rumble. She looked down, confused as to how the world could collapse if they were all still stuck here. No doors to power open.

“What the fuck?” it was a cry from one of them, she didnt know who.

Cracks formed through the earth at lightning speed, shooting out towards Anna. Her hands instantly tightened over her weapon, ready for anything. Ready for an end to this.

Yet despite what she was.

Despite her brutish nature.

Despite her seemingly otherworldly strength.

And her marksman precision as a Huntress.

She still was only a human, and no match for a God.

Black appendages shot out from the ground at an ethereal speed, plunging deep and harshly into the warm belly of the woman. Her eyes widened in shock, trying to take a step back but the appendage clawed itself deeper into her, firmly keeping her in place. Her mouth opened, wanting to roar out in pain as this black, needle-like leg squirmed around inside her organs. It hooked into her stomach, not allowing her to move. Not allowing her to keel over and fall.

In an instant, it swiped out, like a scorpion tail flicking out in anger, absolutely severing the sensitive connective tissue and soft organs that held together in place. They spilled out onto the dead floor, steaming up into the cold atmosphere around them.

The black claw finally retracted, wiggling its way back down into the crack it came from, disappearing from view.

As soon as this appendage dug itself back into the ground, the doors opened with a violent force, slamming them with a reverberating.

BANG.

Anna fell to her knees, weakly clutching at her organs that spilled against the ground. Her hands reached forward, vainly grabbing them to place them back inside her.

Was this it?

Is this what dying feels like?

“Holy shit! The fucking Entity killed her!” The man in green ran up to her first.

“Medkit! I saw one earlier, I’ll go get it!”

Ah she knew that voice. It was the one with gold hair.

Then who was this one? That cradled her so gently and placed their warm palms over her stomach?

Anna's arms were too weak to move now. Blood seeping into the dead of the earth.

She never died before. Would she come back too? Panic flared in her chest at the thought of leaving her little fox home alone. No one to care for them.

But as she looked up, her body somewhat relaxed, seeing that familiar red hair.

And those gorgeous blue eyes.

“Meg?”

The word left her in barely a whisper. Her skin was pale and clammy, blue lips parted, and glassy eyes planted themselves on this figure that held her.

But there was nothing she could do.

It was too late.

Maybe Mama would be able to finally come get her.

Her last breath rattled in her throat, expelling out into the world as globs of blood bubbled to the surface of her mouth. Mikaela held her gently, brows furrowed as she tried her best to keep the woman comfortable while Yui ran for a Medkit.

But the redhead's shoulder sagged, watching the tell-tale signs of life leaving another. Her head turned towards Jake, brows creased and furrowed as a frown deeply tugged at her lips.

“Jake, she's dead.”

“So?”

“Do Killers even come back like we do?”

The silence that hung in the air was their ominous reminder that anything can happen in the Entity's realm.

Yui came back almost immediately, red box in hand as she skidded to a halt in front of the others. Her eyes instantly dropped towards the Huntress, panting raggedly as she held up the med kit.

“I…I got it” the woman said between deep pants. But her two companions only shook their heads.

“Guys! I've been looking for you the whole match! Where the-” an older black man with a bullet proof vest walked towards them, his eyes dropping down to the deceased body of the Killer.

“What the hell happened?! Did you all do this!?”

“No. The Entity did.” Yui sighed deeply, watching the world around them slowly dissolve.

“Guys…guys look”

In unison, everyone's head turned towards Mikaela, who still had the Huntress propped up in her lap.

The woman's skin was billowing up and fading away into smoke, dissolving into nothing.

Their eyes widened in horror, unable to process what was happening in front of them. Is that what true death looked like? Was it an escape?

All eyes kept locked onto the body that simmered into the festering smoke they all knew too well. Hands covering their faces, shielding them, protecting them from whatever evil of this world could do.

No time remaining for them, Mikaela set the large woman down against the ground. Whatever was left of her at least. Feet hit the ground with lead in their stomachs, wanting to do more, wanting to stay behind and help but unable to. Not unless they, too, should suffer the wrath of the Entity.

—--

Meg had just walked down the steps of the old and cozy cabin. What once was a place of terror, now considered something special. She had a bed, proper meals, and someone she looked forward to seeing every morning. The one who's tried to kill her on so many occasions, and murdered so many of her friends.

Her good foot hit the last step, looking up to watch as her friend had been consumed and taken by a black fog. It wasn't surprising or uncommon. The Entity takes who it pleases whenever it wants, regardless of where you are. Once she was mid-bite into her rations only to bite into air as it took her into the void, placing her in one of the many places she was oh so familiar with.

So the red head continued her descent, carefully making sure to keep weight off her torn leg.

In truth, the lacerations were already feeling much better. It was something deeper than that. Something she suffered long before coming here. The young woman sat in the chair much too large for her, melting against it in relief as she looked down to her ankle. Her stare was blank, feeling the pulsing heartbeat and heat radiating off of it.

It was bothering her again.

Not wanting to worry Anna and always wanting to help, she overworked her delicate ankle. Shattered in a fit of stubborn determination to win a race, now something she lived with forever.

Something the Entity refused to heal.

Maybe it thought keeping her this way was funny.

Maybe it liked putting the odds against her and still watching her win.

Meg's eyes closed at the thought, just listening to the fire crackle.

She felt…safe. Good. Though the home did feel a bit empty and quiet. Hopefully Anna would finish her trial quickly, so she could spend more time with her.

That woman was something else. Everyday she learned something new. And it only encouraged Meg to continue digging. She'd find children's toys, more masks, different outfits. One of which consisted of multiple pelts and boots. Her mind wandered off, picturing the woman in this outfit, strong biceps bursting from the seams.

The intrusive thought slithered into her mind, making her thump her head back into the chair, staring up at the ceiling with rosy cheeks.

She couldn't help them though.

Often she'd catch herself sneaking glances. Watching muscles tense and flex under the weight of logs that she chopped with her heavy axe. Or watching her haul huge animals behind her as if they weighed nothing.

And oftentimes through these glances, she'd catch the other watching her back. How long had she’d been staring? Sometimes the Huntre- Anna, would immediately turn her head away and busy herself with something.

Other times…Meg would lock onto her brown gaze, the breath sucked from her lungs. She saw the forest in them, bountiful earth and a sorrow she couldn't explain. Beautiful, deep, and so powerful, all encapsulated in just a single stare.

Meg would always be the one to break the spell, turning her head away as her cheeks betrayed her. Even now, in this moment alone, she felt them heat once more. She wanted to know more about her. Just anything. Her favorite color, her favorite food, her favorite season. What brought her to the Entity's realm? What was her life like to have her be brought here of all places?

Different thoughts played in the runner’s mind, fantasies of what the other’s life could have been before turning into this. A blue gaze planted itself on the smoldering embers before her. Anna liked to leave the coals hot, it made it easier to rekindle the flames when needed. Just as Meg was about to get to feet to place some more tinder, a rushing whirlwind of black fog surged forward, scattering the hot embers across the floor.

She reached up, shielding her face with her arms from the onslaught of this suffocating smoke. Was it her turn to go to trial? The Entity was never this forceful about it. However, the smoke never selfishly entered her lungs like it usually did. It didn't rip her of her senses and drag her against her will to an area unknown.

No.

This time, something heavy and big was thrown violently against the wall, smashing against the framed pictures and knick knacks before slamming down to the ground. The cabin shook with force as this large behemoth had collided into the cabin floor below, oddities following her and crashing all around her. Picture frames, tchotchkes, and the like. Meg jumped, her heart nearly stopping at this explosion of force, her first instinct to turn tail and run from whatever had come for her. But a cry of agony ground her into place. Her head snapped, turning towards the crumpled mass on the floor that lay in an ever growing puddle of blood.

The blood in her veins turned to ice.

Anna gripped at her stomach, freshly lacerated and bleeding profusely over the ground. She encountered so many wounds in her lifetime, but never managed to get something like this. Is this what her mother experienced? Is this what her poor Mama felt as that elk tore through her? Her head lowered down, taking in the sight of her ripped apart stomach with shallow and rapid breaths. Vision blurring, panic rising in her throat as she thought of several different things to save herself.

All of those thoughts crashed and shattered in an instant the moment she felt a pair of warm hands upon her. She jerked her head up, feeling the mask she used to protect herself be ripped away. Brown eyes fell on blue, searching them for anything. Desperately for anything. Purpose? A meaning? A sign? Survival? These shattered thoughts and illusions plagued her as she was brought to death and back to life, teetering on the edge, all while fully not being allowed to die. A painful lesson. A dangerous promise.

Do as you are told.

Meg instantly ran for the bedroom, ignoring the searing pain in her leg and ankle as she climbed the steps two at a time. She tore the place apart, scouring it for any medical items she could. Gauze, water, a needle and some thread. And whatever this stone container was that Anna used the first time on her. Without much care for herself, Meg launched herself down the steps once more, frantically heading towards this large woman who grit her teeth in pain and placed heavy palms over her opened stomach.

What the hell happened to her?! Killers don't get hurt like this! Killers don't ever end up like this, they were the lucky ones!

There was no time for words. No. That was the specialty of survivors.

They were good under pressure. Especially Meg.

Her hand reached for the Huntress’s belt, ripping out a hatchet that she used to cut the woman’s shirt open, allowing her more access to the wound. The sight of it nearly made her wretch. Deep, exposed organs that pulsed with her heartbeat. And she noticed how the pulse became slower and slower with each passing second. Her hands were smooth and still, used to countless times of healing the most brutal injuries as the clock fought against them.
First was the water, rinsing away the dirt, grime and blood. Then it was shoving her organs back into place, causing the woman to throw her head back and roar in a guttural cry of pain. A calloused hand reached up, gripping onto Meg’s shoulder with such force, the redhead wouldn't be surprised to find bruising there later. Her cries and roars of pain shook the walls as Meg focused on the task at hand. Beads of sweat formed on her head.

When it came to her friends, she was more confident, knowing that healing them was just about buying them enough time for the Entity to close their wounds itself. But this was a different situation entirely.

Would any of this even work?

Meg reached forward, practically ripping the woman’s leather belt off her waist and tightly folded it over on itself. Unceremoniously, the redhead shoved the belt into the other’s mouth, blue eyes filled with fear and a stubborn determination to prevail.

“This is going to hurt a lot. Okay?”

Anna’s teeth clamped down against the harsh leather material, making it crinkle and groan in response. In her eyes was a similar look, fear, confusion, and the stubborn rage to keep herself alive despite what this monstrous Voice did to her. She only gave Meg a simple nod of her head, and that was enough confirmation for the smaller woman to continue her ministrations.

The needle and thread she found were crude and made for clothing. She wasn't even sure if the needle was sharp enough for the task it had in front of it. With no time to waste on such thoughts, her fingers stabbed the instrument into soft flesh, earning a muffled cry of frustrated pain from the woman below.

Meg worked quickly, eyes fully locked onto the gorey mess in front of her. The thread tightened and pulled both seams of skin together, locking them in place with a crude stitch job. Something seemed odd the further she got in her makeshift triage point here. At first she didn't think twice of it before she noticed.

The silence.

Bloodied hands stopped for a moment, turning her head to stare over the Russian, who was quiet with labored breathing. Pale skin was even paler, grey even, as beads of sweat accumulated over her face.

“Anna?” came the frightful tone that left the woman, eyes wide as she tried to see if this Killer had truly died under her hands.

But relief washed over her in a tidal wave as brown eyes opened, peering over at the young woman who labored over her. Her chest took in a deep breath in response, jaw fixed and tight over the belt that she nearly had bitten cleanly through. Meg felt her heartbeat return, taking in a shaky breath as she turned her attention to the horrifying wound her friend was given.

The wound had now been stitched, and with it sealed, it allowed the runner to run a damp cloth over it, cleaning it of excess blood and debris. Feeling the water brush against such a painful area burned like a million scorpion stings. Anna bit further into her belt, fiercely growling into it as she tensed her abdomen. Meg could only frown, trying to clean up as best she could. The water wasn't the only part. Next came the ointment. Whatever this was, It smelled like honey and peppermint, mixed with an earthy material she couldn't identify. Taking a large glob on her finger, she spread it across the tender skin slowly, giving the woman under her time to adjust from the burn.

Anna had thumped back against the ground, deep labored breathing coming from her nose as her brown eyes stared blankly up at the ceiling. Her innards burned with a pain never experienced before. Unable to move, unable to care for herself. A strange icy grip of panic seemed to crawl over her, grasping her heart through her ribcage. An old fear crawling back to her from her childhood days. A series of “What if” questions that repeated over and over.

What if she couldn't fend for herself?

What if she wouldn't survive?

All these questions asked by the little girl she once was so long ago, now bubbling to the surface again. However, a warm damp cloth seemed to bring her out of her panicked thoughts. Deep brown eyes slowly lifted up, encaptured by blue as the warm rag washed away the debris from her face. For a moment, she wasn't dying on a cabin floor in a realm so far away from where she was born. No. Instead she was back home with her mother, who gently cleaned her face after their travels together.

Anna melted into the soothing touch, so delicate and so soft. Her body trembled slightly. Whether it was from fear or from pain, who was to say. All she wanted was to pretend she wasn't here anymore, that she wasn't dying. That she would be okay.

All these worries were unknowingly being shared by her counterpart. The fox she tried so hard to catch and feed to this Black Voice. Meg gently washed at the other’s face and neck, doing her best to keep her comfortable. But in a world like this, there was no modern medicine here. There were no pain killers. And there was still the looming fear that both of them shared.

If Anna would even make it through the night.

Meg watched this behemoth of a woman, someone so large, so foreboding and intimidating, reduced to a crumpled mess onto the floor. She watched her face twitch and convulse in tune with lightning arcs of pain that resonated throughout her body. The survivors had to deal with the same, but only for a short time before the Entity would so lovingly heal them.

The sight was tearing Meg’s heart apart.

She didn't know what else to do to comfort her. To make this easier.

Standing up, the runner looked around the house. There was no way she’d be able to move the Huntress from where she lay. So, instead, Meg brought the bed to her, so to speak. Her hands found pillows and blankets in the bedroom, bringing them back down to place behind the Russian’s head. The blanket delicately placed over her broken body. This seemed to help a bit, as Anna’s face relaxed for a moment. But brown eyes opened once more, staring up at Meg. At first it was silent between the two, with only the fire crackling off in the background.

The torrent of chaos now subsided, only leaving its trace behind in the form of broken items strewn about where they lay. But brown never left blue. Clinging onto it in some form of safety. As a life raft in a storm.

Something her mother didn't have. A woman standing brave to the very end, holding strong for a little one.

The redhead’s hand responded on its own, lifting up to drag her fingers through the other’s dark locks. Pushing back the hair from her face in an attempt to sooth her. The Huntress stared up at her, confusion clearly placed over her glassy gaze.

“Shh… relax Anna. Dont move so much.” it came out as barely a whisper as Meg let fingernails drag over the larger woman’s scalp.

Anna’s gaze had become more clouded and confused. It had been so long since she felt the gentle touch of another. The last one to ever comfort her this way was her mother. And even then, she only had few memories of that woman. Her jaw tightened, not wanting to think anymore. Not wanting to feel the pain anymore. Not wanting to be here anymore.

“You can…stay in the cabin. For you” the older woman said through pained, strained teeth. But it only got her a shake of Meg’s head.

“Stop talking like that. You’re going to pull through, okay?”

She wanted to believe her. She really did.

But the world around her slowly became dark as the Anna felt herself pulled into sleep. A familiar tune rung out in the air. An old lullaby. And it only dawned on her right before darkness consumed her, that the little fox was humming her song to her. Just like her mother did all those years ago.