Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The campfire did not seem to need stoking. It had been like that for what felt like hours- burning the logs and lighting up their somber faces. Maybe it could have been a comfortable silence, or even a relaxing one. The night air was cool but not too cold. The heat of the fire was soothing instead of searing. The clearing itself was near-picturesque.

But then there was the darkness- the fog that lingered just outside the boundaries of their sight. It was like being in a neatly decorated cage, the inky blackness serving as pseudo iron bars. Every day, they entered their prison- willingly, sometimes even fretfully- rushing through the foggy confines and back to their respective spots around the fire. What had they been running from? Where were they now that they had escaped?

How quickly they seemed to forget...

Spindly, swirling madness prodded at their minds as they took their places on the invisible stage. With the deft movements of a spider weaving its web, the fog rewrote their memories. It didn't take everything- just anything that would have made the situation more tolerable. More manageable.

They knew each other's faces. Every once in a while, they'd recall each other's names. They knew enough to stop trying to ask each other what, exactly, was going on. So they gathered around the campfire in silence, each of them preparing for the darkness to close in on them.

Claudette didn't mind the lack of chatter; she had always been very insular. Small-talk and social interaction didn't come easy. When they settled into this routine of quiet preparation, she dutifully went about her business collecting useful plants and herbs, mainly for medicinal purposes. She may not have known exactly what they were getting into, but whatever was keeping her here was happy to let her remember that it would be painful.

The others seemed to approve of this, so she made sure to complete this task each time they arrived here. Occasionally, the man in the group gave her a hand, but it was clear he did not know nearly as much as she did. Not many people had an encyclopedic knowledge of plants though, she supposed. Still, the small gesture was enough to give her a little bit of hope that their situation was manageable. If they worked as a team, surely they could get through... Whatever this was. Every time she tried to think about what she was preparing them for though, it slipped like a wisp from her mind.

"I think something's happening," the red-haired girl among them said. "Look, see? The darkness is closing in."

The girl next to her, white hair almost glowing in the moonlit flames, seemed intrigued by this. Claudette always noticed that reaction- why the girl wasn't more put-off, she never understood. All she knew was the encroaching darkness was one of the cornerstones of her memory, and it had never signaled anything good. Her heart began to beat faster, as though begging her to run somewhere, even though she knew there was nowhere else to go. The man picked up a toolbox, not seeming eager in the least, but clearly wanting to feel prepared. Claudette hurried to finish creating the last tincture from the materials she had gathered, her hands shaking as she manipulated them into something useful.

"It's slower this time," said the blond man, standing stock still as the darkness teased at them from the corners of their vision.

"This time?" Claudette was confused. He had never given any inkling that he remembered anything before this. Maybe he was starting to catch onto something, like she suspected of herself.

"Yeah." He didn't meet her eyes, just kept staring into the black fog as it swayed and swirled closer. "I remember it hitting us like a wave before. Like getting hit by a truck. This time, it's..."

"Seeping?" Offered the girl with the white hair.

The man gave a slight nod. She stood up from the grass, sweeping dirt from her black skirt and picking leaves from the myriad of buckles on her platform boots.

"You're saying you remember this?" She asked, stepping up to his side to watch the fog creep in with him. "What happens when it closes in?"

He finally glanced at her and noticed a small smile on her face as the fog engulfed the last row of trees before their clearing.

"You're not... Excited, are you? You really don't have any memory of how painful this is going to be?" he asked.

"I mean, it's a little exciting. Better than everything being a boring drag all the time. The memory thing is annoying, but it makes it more mysterious."

He stared at her.

"What?" She snapped. Rolled her eyes. "Don't you think it's better than sitting at home, watching TV?"

He wanted to say that he would much rather be home doing that. That he couldn't remember how he'd gotten here, or what task he had been taken from when he had been whisked away. He only knew that he was tired, and he had been through enough already. Her enthusiasm wasn't doing anything to instill confidence in him that they were all taking this seriously.

"You're saying you don't want to go home? You'd rather be... Here?" The bespectacled, red-haired girl had joined them in their huddle. She stared at them from under a wide-brimmed hat.

Claudette bundled up her supplies and hurried over to their side. The fog may have been slower, according to the man, but she had a feeling it wouldn't be too much longer before it consumed them.

"I definitely don't want to go home," the girl replied. "Don't get me wrong, I get the impression I'm not enjoying every second of this, but..."

"But?" The man seemed a little annoyed.

"But I also get the impression that I'm here for a reason. Like..." she tried to choose the right words, not wholly convinced of what she was saying as she pushed to remember. "Like I'm looking for someone."

"Hm." Was all the man said.

"Well, I hope you find whoever it is," the redhead finally replied after a moment. "But honestly, I just want to get out of here. It gives me major creeps, and I'm sick of feeling confused and on-edge all the time. I'm sick of this stupid fire. I'm sick of the anxiety. The dread."

The white-haired girl shrugged, seeming lost in thought.

"My name's Leon, by the way," said the man. "I know we're going to forget again, but just in case you get lost in... Wherever we're going. Call for me, and I'll do my best to find you."

"My hero."

"Wow, I'm surprised," said Leon placidly. "The goth is sarcastic."

"Sable," she said, sounding bored. "My name is Sable."

"I'm Mikaela," offered the red-head helpfully, trying to soothe the awkward atmosphere the two of them were creating.

Sable glanced up at her for a moment and looked like she was trying to decide something. She thought better of whatever it was before turning her attention back to the fog.

Claudette was aware of Leon's eyes on her, as though waiting for her to speak. Even in the present environment, she had never really liked group activities. She wasn't even sure if sharing her name had a point or if they expected her to. But in the interest of team spirit, she figured it couldn't hurt. And Leon was still watching her, waiting.

"Claudette," she said. "Hopefully we'll remember each other this time, hey?"

"Yeah," Mikaela said quietly. Under her breath she added, "I wonder how many times we've met like this."

The darkness was upon them now, swirling up their shoes and grasping at their legs. Each of them stepped back on instinct, as though this time they might be able to avoid it. It crept upwards, and it was suffocating. The sensation was freezing and sent surges of dread through each of them. Anxiety came unbidden, even though they each had tried to steel their hearts for this moment.

Claudette clenched her makeshift first aid kit in her hands, staring into the darkness defiantly. Despite the trembling in her fingers, she gave off an aura of composure. She let out a slow, controlled breath as she felt the fog grasping at her throat now, and then crawling up her face. She squeezed her eyes shut as the fog made its way up her features. If she was going to be submerged in it, then let her last act of defiance be to immerse herself in darkness on her own terms.

Chapter Text

The sound of flesh and some indescribable matter twisting and unfolding was muffled by the bright red locker encasing it. As the creature stirred, the outside world stood silently, seeming to brood as it waited. A fetid limb slammed against the walls of its containment, throwing the door open with a raw screeching sound-- the sound of rusted, neglected hinges. From inside, darkness poured. Then, a series of twisted, coiling limbs, serrated by sharp, jagged bones protruding from its flesh began to emerge from its hiding place.

A vertical slit of a mouth harbored rows of strange-looking teeth. Its movements were thick with the sound of rotting flesh. Skulls embedded in the creature's flesh stared blankly outwards, and the thing's own eyes were beady, yellow, and glowing in the darkness. It seemed almost as though this thing- this strange amalgamation of limbs and bone- was indeed partially made of darkness. From the core of its being poured inky, oozing shadows that swallowed the light around it.

The thing jerked forward, gyrating like some eldritch slug, creeping its way out into the open. The darkness sucked the life out of everything it touched, and it went wherever this thing's body went. They were the same; this creature and the shadows around them were kindred.

Leading with its blunt, club-like appendage, it disappeared into the building, bringing its darkness with it.

Watching with guarded breath, eyes squinting into the unfathomable blackness of the thing's form, Leon tried to reason through what the fuck could possibly be happening. He was back at the Raccoon City Police Department. His head swam nauseatingly from the realization. Had the forest been a dream? What about those girls-- Claudette, Sable, and Mikaela? Weren't they real? They had to be, and yet here he was. Inexplicably sat outside R.P.D. with no real indication that he had ever left. He tried to remember where he had been before all the campfire shit had been going on, but failed to. All he knew was he was somewhere familiar now. That had to count for something.

He briefly entertained the notion that he could be experiencing some kind of PTSD-induced episode. Maybe none of this was real, and he was only imagining that he was back in Raccoon City. He knew he was fucked up from that incident, but he had never experienced anything like this, at least he didn't think he had. His head swam with confusion and he closed his eyes. Took a deep breath.

"I just need to take a look around," he whispered to himself. "Ground myself."

Where he was crouched in front of the building should have had access to a street. Instead, it seemed as though the R.P.D. had been closed off from everything else. He tilted his head to get a better look at where the parking lot was supposed to be, only to see the stairs of the west wing sitting in front of another closed-off wall. Behind him was a massive gate, with some kind of power panel beside it. That had definitely not been there before.

More troubling though was the hook that stood tall among the concrete barricades and pallets. Leon had never seen anything like it before, even though it festered with the familiar lava-like biomutations that he'd grown familiar with in his line of work.

Maybe he really was back in Raccoon City. Maybe he had never left.

His heart dropped when he heard a shrill scream, followed by a loud slam. Instinctively, he reached for his gun. He patted uselessly at his side. He looked down at the holster and realized it was empty.

Beside him was a toolbox. Reality crashed into him. Whoever had screamed-- it had to have been one of those women.

"Fuck," he muttered. He'd wasted so much time trying to parse through which reality he was in that he'd completely lost his focus. And now someone was getting hurt.

He rose swiftly to his feet, his face steeled stoic, and his mind suddenly crystal-clear. He had a job to do. People to protect. It didn't matter which reality this was, only that he was able to get them all out of here alive.

Quick and quiet, Leon darted into the building. The memories of everything that had happened to him here came flooding back.The officer who was torn in half in front of him. The lieutenant who met with him, eventually succumbing to the virus. Every gunshot he fired and every monster he faced flashed through his mind as his eyes searched around the foyer. He shoved the memories away, annoyed. If whatever was keeping him here could manipulate his mind, it could have at least taken his memories of Raccoon City, too.

Another scream-- closer this time. Leon made his way past what looked to be a generator, noticing that one of its pistons was slowly trying to chug away. It was definitely broken, but from the way it looked, someone had been intent on fixing it. Noting this, he continued towards the scream with haste, into the nearest door on the left. He followed it through reception, and then into the west office.
That same banner. It was still there. "Welcome Leon", it read. Leon scoffed, the anxiety in his chest gripping his heart like a vice. He stifled the memories that began to surface-- his first day, how hungover he had been. Then, even a few days prior-- the look on his ex-girlfriend's face as she berated him for leaving, the binge-drinking in the days leading up to his new job. How excited he had been to join the force-- to protect and serve, to meet new people, to start a new chapter. He'd had no idea how dark it would become. Despite his best efforts, he felt his head begin to swim.

Steeling himself against one of the desks- what would've been his desk, probably, he realized distantly- he took a moment to ground himself. It was only for a moment, though, because as he stared at the ground trying to focus, he realized it was slick with blood. Fresh blood. He straightened up and followed the trail with his eyes towards the back door of the office.

He broke into a run, and soon he began to hear the soft whimpers of someone in pain. Finally he saw the source-- there ahead of him was Sable, and her shoulder had been impaled on another of those hook structures he had seen outside. Her hand came up to grasp at the hook as she tried in vain to alleviate the agony.

"Jesus christ," Leon rushed over to her, his hands gripping under her arms as he began to lift her with all of his strength.

She groaned as he tried to free her from the hook, and he realized her head was bleeding from a separate injury. That couldn't be good. He needed to get her down quickly, but the hook was sturdy, and had impaled her through the entire shoulder.

"This is going to hurt," he told her bluntly.

"It," she breathed, her eyes clenched shut. "Already does."

He tightened his grip on her and heaved her upwards. It took a few agonizing attempts to wriggle her free from the hook, but with an unceremonious splash of blood he was finally able to release her. Once freed, Sable fell to her knees. She was trembling, her hand grasping at her bloody t-shirt as she tried to stop the bleeding. She looked up at him, blood streaming down her forehead and into her eye. Blinking it back, she seemed to be registering his face, trying to comprehend that she had been saved.

"Thanks," she managed through sharp, painful breaths.

"We need to find Claudette," Leon replied. "You're hurt bad. She has a first aid kit."

"Did you see it?" Even through the pain, Leon could tell her mind was alight with distant excitement over whatever she had encountered. "That thing-- the thing that got me? It was like some kind of abomination... Shadows eating away at rotten flesh. It smacked me across the head, and I thought it was going to kill me. But then it just... The hook..."

"Sable. We need to get you medical attention. You can tell me all about it when we find Claudette, okay?"

She grimaced as he helped her to her feet. "Yeah. Okay."

"Which way did that thing go?" He didn't want to run into it, especially now that he knew it was probably hunting them.

Before Sable could respond, they heard a sudden furious, unrelenting scratching from behind them. Leon whirled around just in time to see another of those red lockers, its door opening and darkness beginning to spill out of its cracks.

"Run," Leon commanded, grabbing Sable by the elbow and pushing her in front of him.

She must have seen it too because she took off without question, still clutching at her wound. Leon had to hand it to her; running around with that kind of injury was no small feat. He supposed her adrenaline was working overtime to keep her going, especially because the creature was now chasing after them.

He didn't need to look over his shoulder to confirm. He could hear the squelching, wet movements of the thing as it dragged its body along behind them. Worse, he heard a low hum as air rushed by his head-- the thing had swiped its giant, clublike arm in his direction.

"Go!" He urged Sable forward as they sprinted down the dark hallway, which only seemed to be getting darker. "Go!"

"I'm going!" She yelled. "These shoes suck to run in, and I'm fucking bleeding everywhere!"

"Keep to the left side of the wall," he instructed, breathing hard. "Go up the stairs! Find somewhere to hide."

He ducked into what he knew to be the records room, then spun around just as the creature moved to pass by the doorway.

"Leon?!" Sable's voice was shrill; terrified.

"Go!" He demanded, hurling the toolbox he'd been carrying at the thing's head.

It turned to face him, yellow eyes seeming to bore right through him. He backed away as it slowly entered the room, bringing its darkness with it. The world around him seemed to plunge into blackness all at once as it entered, and with horror Leon realized he could not see anything at all. It was as though it had sucked all the life out of the room, and he was trapped in total sensory deprivation.
He was aware of the thing in the room with him, its mere presence suffocating and imposing. It was eerily quiet now, and he couldn't tell if it was moving silently or if he had just gone deaf in the darkness.

He hugged the wall, suddenly glad for his knowledge of the place. He knew there was a door into the other hallway, and if he could make it there, he might be able to give this thing the slip.

Quietly and blindly, he inched his way along the wall and cringed at every noise he made. He had no idea if the thing could still see him, or if its vision was impaired in any way at all. Leon's certainly was, though, and he tried to keep measured control of his breath to keep it as quiet as possible. Finally, he felt a doorknob under his hand. He grabbed it and gently turned it. Somehow, the darkness became even more complete. There was no difference in his sight when he closed his eyes versus when he had them open. Darkness swirled around him menacingly, and a chorus of low, moaning screams began to ring out around him.

Leon froze for a moment, his hand still gripping the doorknob. The noises became louder, until numerous voices were wailing at him. It sounded otherworldly, as though the voices were disembodied, agonized, and in despair.

Unbeknownst to him, the thing could see him clearly. It was looming over him in the shrieking darkness, tiny hands protruding from its dark core, writhing and squirming as it looked him over. As Leon tried to push the door open, it struck him across the chest with a dull, sickening thud.

It sent the breath out of him. Pain produced an explosion of color through his mind.

Pushing through it, he whirled towards the door and flung it open, bursting into a blind sprint down the hallway. He raced back towards where he knew reception would be, hoping to escape the debilitating darkness consuming everything around him. He ached with sharp, intrusive jolts of pain as he ran, and he did his best not to think about whether or not he had broken a rib or two. He could barely see in front of him, and he had no idea how close behind the monster could be. That was until he heard a loud, oppressive sound quickly gaining ground between them. That's all it was-- a sound-- but it was twisted, distorted, and grating on his ears. It filled him with dread and panic that he knew he would never be able to describe. Bolting through reception, he blindly grabbed a pallet that was propped up against the wall and threw it down behind him. He heard it hit something, and the wailing intensified. Leon's ears rang from the harsh noise.

Still, he did not stop. He powered through the darkness and into the main hall, where the generator he'd spotted still chugged along weakly. He could hear it quietly sputtering, so he turned the other direction and made his way to where he knew the stairs would be. He stumbled at first as he began to climb, and his heart lurched as his foot slammed into one of the steps and almost toppled him over. He quickly retained his balance and found purchase on the stairs. Behind him, over the din of the shrieking voices, Leon heard the thing slamming its weapon-like arm against something metal. The generator squealed with the damage, and Leon realized it was trying to break it. Another thing to note for later-- for now, he kept running.

As he reached the top of the stairs, he realized the ethereal screaming he'd been hearing had begun to subside. It grew quieter and quieter, and with it, the darkness seemed to lift. It was subtle at first, and then suddenly, the building came into view around him. He dared to glance over his shoulder, only to find that the creature was gone.

He had to hurry to reunite with the women. Now that the shadows had dissipated, Leon could clearly see another generator in front of him. This one sat quietly, untouched, and Leon began to suspect that it was also in need of repair. He hesitated for a moment, wondering if Sable would be able to find Claudette on her own with an injury like that, and whether he should fix this thing in the meantime. It was an odd thought, and he never would've bothered with it if the generator hadn't been so out of place. Someone had clearly thought it could be a piece to this puzzle, since the one in the main hall had already been tampered with. Then, there was the toolbox he had with him at camp. He didn't remember where he had gotten it from, but perhaps they had been through this situation before, and that was why he'd found it so important to keep a hold of it.

He wished briefly that he had chucked something else at the thing's head, but in this instance, he was just going to have to carry on. He suspected there wasn't much time until the creature came back, and that it was still around looking for them.

Drawing on his knowledge of the building, Leon recounted the upstairs of the police department to himself. If Sable had made it to the stairs, there were a number of rooms she could have hidden herself in. Something about her made him think she probably wasn't hiding, though, and that she was more the sort of person to try to sate her own curiosity before anything else.
Leon made his way down the hallway to the left, passing by another empty hook as he went. He was moving slower than he would like to, the pain radiating through his torso begging for his attention. He ignored it, intent on finding out where Sable had gone. Hopefully she had found the others by now.

"Leon!" A frantic whisper from the threshold of the library brought him out of his hyper-focus. "Leon, in here!"

Just ahead, he could see Claudette's head peeking around the corner of the doorway. She gestured for him to hurry, and lifted a finger to her lips to signal for quiet. Grateful that he had found her, he followed her as she disappeared into the library.

Sable was there too, sitting on the ground with her back to a bookcase, clutching a medicine-soaked rag to her shoulder. A bandage was wrapped around her forehead. She looked up at him and he could see her face betray relief at his arrival.

"Don't do that again," she scolded, glaring at him. "I thought you were dead for sure."

"Don't save your life again?" He turned away from her and towards Claudette. "How are her wounds?"

"You could ask me. I'm right here," said Sable.

"Pretty bad. I mean, she should probably have bled out from them, but she's still conscious and rational. Considering the head wound, I'm surprised." Claudette returned to Sable's side where she had an open first aid kit. She gently took Sable's hand with the cloth away from the wound and produced a series of sutures. She began to clamp them around the wound, and Sable hissed her displeasure through the gritting of her teeth.

"That doesn't look as bad as I expected," Leon said, keeping his voice down as he watched from over Claudette's shoulder.

"Well, it fucking hurts." Sable informed him.

"It was a big fucking hook. And you should have a concussion at the very least. That thing hits hard." Leon glanced around the library, just in case an ambush was mounting.

"It got you?" Claudette asked as she sutured Sable's wounds closed.

"Yeah," he said. "But I think I lost it. Or it got distracted. It seemed preoccupied with the broken generators out there. It stopped chasing me to break it."

"I thought you said it was already broken." Sable rose to her feet, a little unsteady.

"Well, yeah," he said as he allowed Claudette to feel along his chest and ribs for any major injuries. She did so without asking, and Leon was amused by that. He got the impression that she wasn't much of a talker, but that she was pretty straightforward nonetheless. "But someone had been working on fixing it. I think it wants to make sure they stay broken."

"No broken ribs," Claudette announced.

"Well, that's a miracle." He genuinely thought so.

Sable idly fidgeted with the edge of her head-binding. "Maybe whatever has us trapped here doesn't want us to die outright," she said, looking distantly past them as though deep in thought. "Maybe it wants us to suffer first."

For the first time, Leon thought Sable's blatant and weird obsession with these kinds of things might actually come in handy. It was a bizarre thing to say, but in their current situation, it actually felt like it made sense.

"Maybe," Leon replied.

Sable looked pleased that Leon seemed to be going along with it this time. She had a way of understanding things like this that others just couldn't wrap their heads around. It was about time someone listened to her.

"No more standing around," Sable announced. "I'm fine, himbo over here is fine. We need to find Mikaela."

"Himbo?"

"She's right. Let's go." Claudette gathered her first aid kit as Leon quietly processed the disrespect.

The three of them made their way back to the doorway, and Leon peered out from behind the wall to check for danger. Sensing none, he nodded to the two girls, and they made their way back to the main hall. The generator here was still quiet and unmoving, and so was the building itself.

"We should check the back exit," Leon said quietly, taking the lead. "Maybe she found her way out of the building."

"The back exit? Wait, you know this place?" Sable was intrigued.

"You could say that," Leon replied. "I worked here. For about a day."

"Huh? You're a cop?"

"Was," he said. "I was a cop. For a day."

"What? Just one day? Did your daddy bring you to work or something?"

Claudette couldn't help but look amused. She kept her smile to herself, walking behind the two of them as they crept back down the stairs.

"So then, do you know anything about the generators?" Claudette asked. "Since you worked here."

"No," he said. "No, those are new."

"So is the giant, eldritch darkness monster, I take it?" Sable ventured.

"Not as new, actually."

Before Sable could ask what he meant, Leon held up a hand for them to be quiet. The unmistakable sound of working machinery could be heard echoing through the silence of the building. So too could the shrieking he had heard when the darkness had come, although it was nearly imperceptible now.

"It's that wailing again," Claudette whispered. "I heard it before when everything went dark."

Leon nodded and broke into a brisk walk across the main hall, noting more strangely-placed palettes and a singular, looming hook in the center of the room. He led them through a doorway leading to the east office, where the sound of machinery was coming from.

Mikaela was inside, her back to the group. She was crouched in front of another generator, and this one had three of five of its pistons moving perfectly. Her arms were immersed in the guts of the machine as she carefully and attentively tried out different parts to see what made the thing tick.

"Mikaela!" Sable whispered urgently, and the redhead turned around.

"Oh shit! You guys are here," she looked tired, but relieved. "You scared me, coming in so quietly. Glad to see you though, I was worried we'd gotten separated back at the campfire somehow."

"What are you doing?" Claudette asked.

"Fixing this. I think we need them to power the doors to the exit. I was out back earlier, and it's got a power panel that needs juice." Mikaela turned back to what she was doing. "I was working on another one out in the hall, but then... You've seen the thing that's out there, right?"

"Yeah," Sable replied. "It's gnarly. Do you need help?"

Claudette fidgeted nervously. She didn't like the idea of staying in one place for too long.

"Sure, come see what you can do."

Sable joined Mikaela at the generator, peering at the various wires and knobs and trying to make sense of it. Mikaela began instructing her in a whisper, and Sable followed her lead.

In the meantime, Leon made his way to one of the red lockers in the room. They were an obvious anomaly here, and he'd seen the monster come out of them twice. Just to be safe, he turned the latch on the front of each to lock them. Then, both he and Claudette joined the other two on the generator, learning what they could from what Mikaela had already figured out.

After some trial and error, they had the thing going. Itt clicked loudly as the pistons whirred to life.

"Hell yeah!" Sable went for a high-five with Mikaela with her uninjured arm.

Mikaela grinned and high-fived her. "Let's get the other ones going too."

"The two in the main hall are the most exposed," Leon began to strategize. "So let's do those last. I saw a panel like the one Mikaela talked about too, near the entrance of the building. If we finish the one in the hall, we can get to the exit before that thing finds us and hopefully get the fuck out of here."

"Good plan," Mikaela agreed.

"Lead the way, officer," Sable gestured for Leon to take the lead.

The four of them made their way across the room, reaching the doorway. Then, without warning or ceremony, the world around them once again plunged into darkness.

"Oh, fuck," Mikaela whispered.

The screaming and wailing had returned, the sound mounting around the group as they stood frozen in the dark.

"Stay calm," Leon instructed.

There was a bang from the back of the room. Then another. Then the sound of furious scratching, like millions of little claws digging at harsh metal.

"Run!" yelled Mikaela, and chaos erupted.

Leon was jostled and shoved as Mikaela burst past him and out of the room. He couldn't see her, and could barely hear her footsteps above the darkness' lament. The scratching gave way to a loud crash as the locker door flung open, breaking the lock Leon had put into place. They could hear it moving towards them, this time faster than it had been before. It seemed to have garnered some determination since the last time they'd encountered it. Leon pushed Claudette and Sable through the door, though he couldn't tell who was who with how blind the darkness had made him.

"Fix the generators," Leon commanded as he heard their footsteps clattering through the hall. "And get the fuck out of here!"

Then there was a crashing wave of pain in the center of his back, and he was certain he heard something in his spine snap. The sound of it sent waves through his head, and his body gave out on him. Collapsing to the floor, Leon was certain he'd lose consciousness. Or die. Lying there, he realized he could not move at all. His body seemed to be paralyzed from the wound, and he wondered if this was how it ended.

He could hear the meaty flesh slipping over the floors towards him, manipulating its grotesque collection of body parts to loom over him. Hands shot out from its dark core and grabbed him, hurling his broken body over its shoulder. He tried to resist-- to get away-- but found he still could not move. Of course he couldn't. His back was almost certainly broken. The fact that he was still having thoughts about it was a surprise to him.

Leon's eyes were open, and yet he still could not see where the thing was taking him. The darkness was so complete and so loud, Leon felt like he would be driven mad. Every lurch forward the thing took was agony to his wound, and he moaned with pain because that was all he really could do.

With one hulking motion, the thing hefted him upwards. A hook pierced through his shoulder and hung him in place, where he fell limp. He stared into the darkness blankly, his head drooping and resting on his chest. The pain and helplessness was excruciating. He wanted to yell and warn the others that the thing was on the move, but instead, he merely muttered something unintelligible.

He could only hope the rest of the group had their wits about them. Never mind being rescued-- he wasn't used to relying on others for help. He would figure out a way to get down. He had to. If only the darkness wasn't encroaching into his mind. If only he didn't feel like he was going to pass out.

Chapter Text

The darkness forced their separation. In their hurry, they had all taken off in different directions. Mikaela had heard Leon's instructions, but it didn't sit right with her to leave him to his fate. She lurked around the corner of the hallway, squinting uselessly into the shadows, trying to see whatever she could.

The screams and moans were still oppressively loud, and even covering her ears did nothing to quell the noise. She took a deep, trembling breath as she waited, hearing the not-so-distant sound of the thing moving around. She couldn't see it, but knew it had doubled back around after, she assumed, placing Leon on one of the hooks.

It annoyed her that her hands were shaking, and her legs were barely keeping her upright. She was terrified; it was as though one of the many horror stories she loved to tell had come to life, and now it had designs on ending hers. Never could she have imagined something as grotesque and horrifying as the thing that was after them, though. Still, she had to do something. She had to act. Sitting here cowering wasn't going to do any of them good.

She rose up, partially hunched in fear as her eyes darted around in the shrill darkness. She could still hear the thing making its way down the hallway, dragging its limbs and flesh across the floor. Thinking quickly, she felt along the wall and found what she assumed to be another locker. She knew she shouldn't trust it- the thing was clearly using them- but she didn't see that she had any other option besides running. And running in this near-perfect darkness didn't seem like a great idea.

Mikaela slid into the locker as quietly as she could, and there was only the faintest squeal as the door closed. She tried to steady her breath as she heard the thing coming closer and closer, and through the crack in the door, she could see it was just outside. It was staring at the locker-- tiny, beady yellow eyes tilting on a stitched-together head. She was almost positive it knew she was there, and she cursed herself for hiding in such an obviously dangerous place.

Too late now though, she supposed. With a sharp intake of breath, she flung the doors of the locker open, her screaming mingling with the voices in the darkness.

Thankfully, the thing stumbled backwards. It seemed dazed and surprised by the action, but Mikaela didn't have time to assess it further. She darted from the locker and broke out into a sprint.

The thing recovered quicker than she would have liked, and she felt adrenaline surge through her as she realized it was unrelenting in its pursuit. It was faster than she expected, what with the mess of tangled limbs and flesh that composed its body. She whimpered as she burst into the main hall, which was barely visible to her. The darkness was lifting now, and she quickly checked over her shoulder to see if that meant the thing had given up.

It hadn't. It was directly behind her now, and she watched as it raised its club-like weapon, preparing to hit her.

Thinking fast, but not necessarily with forethought, she threw herself forward at the ground. Its arm swung past her head with a sickening rush of air. That had been very close.

The thing loomed over her, raising its arm once again. She kicked her feet at its body, and was dismayed to find that her legs passed through the shadows that enshrouded it with total ease. It didn't even seem to notice the attempted aggression, and Mikaela shut her eyes and flinched as she prepared herself for the incoming strike.

But it didn't come. Instead, the thing let out a grotesque gurgle-shriek, and Mikaela opened her eyes.

It was writhing, its entire body warping and shuddering in what looked to be a cascade of rotting limbs and grasping darkness. Mikaela scooted backwards as it gurgled and lurched. She struggled to find purchase on the ground, but managed to put some distance between herself and the thing. Struggling to understand what was happening, Mikaela realized that from its head spewed an inky ichor. It swirled with the same darkness that made up its body, and it almost looked like its head was smoking.

It whirled around in one final motion, body churning and writhing in pain.

Behind it was what Mikaela could initially only describe as a face. White and distorted, the mouth on it looked like it was frozen in a permanent scream. It tilted as though curious, and then Mikaela realized it was attached to a body, enshrouded by a black cowl and cloak.

A hand raised up and waved. It was just a simple motion, back and forth. Mikaela didn't know whether it was directed at the monster or her.

The monster itself seemed to be folding in on itself, whatever bones it had crunching and splitting tremendously. The sound was enough to make her gag. Suddenly, the limbs, fleshy lumps, and head cracked inwards, with the needy hands inside the darkness curling as though in pain. Into the darkness, the thing disappeared, leaving only Mikaela and this strange figure in the main hall together.
Only now did she notice that the newcomer was holding a bloody knife, and that he had not lowered it upon banishing the monster. She realized the screaming face he wore was a mask, and Mikaela couldn't help but hope there was a human under there. She could reason with a human. He loomed over her, twirling the knife in his hand and cocking his head back and forth slowly, like some strange metronome.

"Thank you," Mikaela tried. "For killing that thing."

No response. He used his free hand to grab the edge of the knife. He wiped the monster's ichor from the blade, where it disappeared into his thick leather glove. He took a step forward, placing heavy boots on either side of her outstretched legs. She pulled them back into herself and opened her mouth to say something. A quiet squeak of protest came out instead.
This apparently amused him. He raised his knife and swiped it through the air above her, seemingly just to watch her flinch. He did it again, this time in a jabbing motion, and again, in a downward stab.

She'd had enough of flinching by then. She kicked him in the shin. Hard.

He made an angry noise at that, jerking his leg backwards. Then, thinking better of moving away, he grabbed at the lapel on her black shirt with his free hand. He jerked her upwards, the knife poised to strike.

"Get the fuck off her!"

All the fury of five feet and a few inches slammed into the man's side as Sable tackled him, seemingly out of nowhere. They landed against the stairs, Sable clutching at his black robes and clawing at him like some feral cat. The man shoved her off, swiping his knife at her as she clambered to her feet.

"I will beat your ass!" Sable was screaming, preparing to launch herself at him again.

He scrambled backwards up a few steps and raised his hands as though to indicate that he was harmless. His knife glistened with old blood stains. Sable glowered at him.

"Put. The knife. Down." She demanded, looking like she was getting ready to roundhouse him in the head.

The mask shook back and forth. No.

"Put it down, or I'm going to kick your shit in."

He tilted his head upwards, looking thoughtful. After a long moment, he shook his head no again.

Mikaela scrambled to her feet as Sable advanced on the interloper. She rushed to her side, worried that she would get nicked by the knife or worse. He shimmied up a few more steps and managed to get to his feet before Sable could deliver on her promise.

"Ladies," came a voice from inside the mask. It was distorted somehow-- deep, and a little unnatural. "Please, I just saved your life. Didn't I? Can't we talk this out?"

Sable raised an eyebrow and looked sideways at Mikaela, who shrugged noncommittally.

"I kind of have the upper hand here," he informed them. "Me? Knife. You? No knife."

"Steel-toed boots? To your balls," snapped Sable. "If you want us to trust you, you shouldn't have shown up looking like a creep."

The mask stared blankly at them. "That's mean," he said. "I saved your friend's life, and you're being mean."

"Okay," tried Mikaela. "Tell us why you saved my life, then. Because you followed it up by trying to kill me."

The man toyed with his knife, gently tossing it back and forth between his hands. His face did not move, and Mikaela knew he was staring at her. Contemplating, most likely.

She hated to admit it, but he was right about having an advantage over them. He also seemed pretty nonplussed about their whole situation, and Mikaela didn't trust it. Just moments ago, she had been running for her life from some kind of eldritch darkness monster. Now she was standing in a blighted police station, talking to someone who looked like they should definitely be arrested.

The silence between the three of them went on entirely too long. Sable raised a fist impatiently, her face twisted in annoyance.

"Say what you have to say then," she commanded. "We're working on getting out of here, and you're getting in the way."

"Ah, I'm not in the way," he said quickly, almost cutting her off. "I am the way. I know you want to get out of here. We have that in common."

"Did you get your memory wiped, too?" Mikaela questioned, curious. "There were only four of us at the campfire, I thought... But if you were there, too...?"

She was met with uproarious laughter that crackled unnaturally as it rang out in the hall.

"No," he said. "I remember everything. And you will, too. Eventually. If you trust me."

Mikaela looked at Sable, whose brows were furrowed in consternation. She heaved a miserable sigh and looked back at Mikaela, as though looking for her answer. She responded by looking just as confused as she felt, shrugging.

"Tell us what you know," Sable finally conceded. "And then we'll decide if we trust you."

"Great." Although the mask remained unchanged, they could hear the grin in his voice. "Then listen up, kiddies. I'm about to blow your mind."

Chapter Text

With Leon barely conscious, Claudette had a difficult time removing him from the hook. She knew he was alive because his eyes fluttered and his chest heaved with the effort of fighting off the pain. When she released the hook from his flesh, she tried her best to help him to the ground gently. He seemed to be regaining his senses, and he managed to prop himself up on one knee upon release.

"Thanks," he said to her, taking a deep breath and moving to stand. She gestured for him to sit down instead. He did so.

"Let me patch that up," she said, already readying her first aid kit.

"You got a sewing kit in there too? This jacket's ruined." She could tell he was trying to be lighthearted, so she smiled at him sympathetically.

With gentle hands, she applied a numbing, antibacterial agent she had extracted from the plants around the campfire. Then, she began wrapping his shoulder over his clothes. She didn't have the confidence to tell him to take his shirt off.

"Did you see where it went?" Leon asked her quietly as she worked.

She shook her head. "I lost it pretty quickly," she informed him. "But I don't know where the others went. It was dark, and we all sort of scattered."

They went quiet as Claudette continued dressing his wound.

"Thanks," Leon said. She stood up from her position at his side to double-check that it was secure.

"No problem," she replied. "Are you okay to stand?"

He was already moving as the words left her mouth, and she held out a hand to help him. He didn't take it, but his expression made it clear he was grateful for it anyway.

"We should look for the others," he said. "Make sure they got away safely. Then we can regroup and get working on the generators."

"Right," she took a deep breath. Making a plan reminded her that this wasn't over, even if the creature had disappeared for the time being. Anxiety throbbed in her chest, though she did her best to ignore it. Now wasn't the time to lose focus.

She packed up her kit as Leon glanced around the hallway, looking for any sign of where Mikaela and Sable had gone. The building was eerily quiet now, with the only sound being the distant chugging of the single generator they had finished repairing. Leon started walking, and Claudette followed.

It wasn't long before they heard voices, and they didn't need to comment on it to know they should hurry. They both picked up the pace, rushing towards the source of the sound.
Leon put a hand in front of Claudette to stop her from walking through the destroyed infrastructure and into the main hall. He wanted to get a look at what was going on first. Claudette nodded, and they saw where Sable and Mikaela had gone. A cloaked, masked figure loomed over the two of them on the stairs with a knife in hand. Sable's arms were crossed defiantly, and Mikaela was fiddling with the hem of her shirt as she listened to the man speak. Claudette looked at Leon, who was staring with furrowed brows at the scene.

"Well, that doesn't look suspicious at all," Leon muttered under his breath, taking off in a short, brisk walk onto the scene.

Claudette hurried in behind him.

"Oh, look!" came the distorted voice behind the mask. "Your friends are here."

Sable and Mikaela both turned to look as Leon and Claudette made their way in. Leon took the lead, clearly feeling like he needed to step in.

"Who the hell're you?" Leon demanded to know.

"Leon, Claudette-- are you alright?" Mikaela interrupted. "I'm glad you're still alive."

"Thanks," Claudette smiled weakly. "Glad you are, too."

"Hellooo," said the man behind the mask. "Important figure over here trying to do some exposition."

"I asked who you were," Leon said.

"I don't want to be interrogated by a cop," he snapped back.

"How do you know I was a cop?" Leon prodded. "Do we know each other?"

"Don't you recognize me?" He slumped his shoulders dramatically, like a mime trying desperately to get its point across. "I'm the Ghostface, baby."

He gestured grandly with his arms, seeming to wait for a suitably impressed reaction from any of them. He failed to receive one and continued on as though this had not happened.

"And I know you're a cop because sometimes you're wearing a little cop outfit." He cocked his head dramatically to the side. "Not today, though, huh?"

Leon sneered at this, not fully understanding what he meant. "So we've met before?"

"I'm offended. You don't remember me."

"Yeah, well, there's a lot of things I don't remember right now. So don't go feeling special."

"Hey, so, you said you knew how to get out of here," Sable interrupted, looking frustrated. "If you boys could stop flirting with each other, I'd like to hear if 'Ghostface' has anything useful to say. Or if he, like I suspect, is full of shit."

"More hurtful words," Ghostface lamented. "I'll never recover."

"You know a way out?" Claudette ventured. "And you know us. So then, your memory isn't wiped. Why is that?"

"Guess."

"You're lying," offered Mikaela.

"No."

"Then you're not one of us," said Sable. "You're working with whatever has us trapped here. Or you are the person that's trapping us here."

"No, no," Ghostface shook his head adamantly. "I'm trapped here, same as you. We just have... Different motives during a trial."

"Can you not speak in riddles?" Sable scoffed. "Be straightforward or I'm going to ignore you. Don't waste our time. What if that thing comes back?"

"It won't," Ghostface reassured her.

"And how do you know that, genius?"

"Well," he smacked his lips, a wet sound that translated poorly with his voice's strange distortion. "I stabbed it to death, that's why."

There was a long moment of silence that the masked man seemed to enjoy. None of the survivors seemed to believe that the creature could have been taken out by a simple knife to the head. It didn't exactly seem mortal.

"What's a trial?" came Claudette's voice. She hated that she sounded meek, but she also really hated the idea of holding a conversation with this creep.

"It's this. This thing you're in. Killer chases you while you try to fix up the generators to power the exit gate. Blah blah. Then you can leave," he shrugged and heaved his shoulders with an exaggerated laugh. "That is, if you can manage to survive."

"I don't think this is very funny," Leon reprimanded. "Why would we even trust you?"

"Yeah, you're obviously one of the killers, if what you say is true," Sable said.

Ghostface shrugged and shook his head in disbelief. "I know more than you. I want to be here about as much as you do. You saw the thing chasing you around, right? Shit like that is hardly good company. And haven't you noticed the power of the Entity getting weaker?"

They stared at him in silence, none of them really understanding what he was saying. They all seemed to be choosing what to question him on next. Claudette took a small breath of preparation before piping up.

"The Entity? And the other killers... Where are they?" She looked a little frightened, clearly not thrilled at the idea of being hunted down by something else.

"Everything here is part of a realm the Entity created. I can't tell you much about the Entity itself, but I do know there are other realms where the other killers are," Ghostface nodded sagely. "And I know some of them don't wanna be here anymore, like me and you. See? We aren't all that different, after all."

Leon rolled his eyes. Claudette seemed to be taking it all in. Sable and Mikaela looked at each other as though gauging whether the other was believing anything this guy had to say.

"What are you suggesting?" Claudette ventured further. "And you said you know a way out? How do we do it? I thought it had to do with the generators."

Ghostface began walking down the stairs towards them very casually, a sway in his step. He was enjoying the theatrics of being the one with all the answers. He walked directly up to Sable, staring with the big, blank eyes on his mask, seeming to assess her. Sable's features twisted in disgust, and she looked away from him. Then, he turned to Claudette.

"You can do the generators and escape the trial through the exit gates, like I said." He nodded once, matter-of-factly. "But that's just the trial. You'll get your memory wiped, get sent back to the campground, and then it'll start over with another killer. I suggest not finishing this trial. Instead, you should help me find the glyphs."

When he did not immediately offer an explanation for this new information, Claudette patiently prodded him for more. "Glyphs? What do they do? How will they help?"

Ghostface sauntered towards Claudette now, stopping in front of her and twirling the knife in his hand. He was nodding, as though deciding something. "When activated, they'll unlock the exit to the Entity's realm altogether. They started appearing at the same time the Entity's power started to weaken. I think if we find them all, we'll be able to get out of here."

"Hold on," Leon intervened. "If we help you, and you go back to the real world, how do we know you won't go on killing people outside of here?"

"Do you really think so badly of me already?"

"Yes," Leon said simply.

"That's sad," Ghostface drooped his head. "That makes me very sad."

"Cut the shit," Sable shoved him in the shoulder, which made him take a step away from Claudette. He turned his head to look at her, seeming to contemplate whether he should shove her back. He wanted to, but Leon had taken a step closer, clearly ready to intervene if he had to.

"Look, I'm the only one with the knowledge you need to get out of here," Ghostface asserted. "If you want to do endless trials for the rest of your pitiful little lives, you do that. But I'm getting out of here. And quite frankly, the less survivors the Entity has access to, the weaker it gets. So I need your help to leave."

Claudette could tell this didn't go over well with the others in the group. It was clear that no one really wanted to work with him, and that none of them trusted him. Still, she thought. Still, he seemed to know what he was talking about. Maybe he really did know a way out. If they helped him, it was true he might go on a killing spree in the real world. But it was also true that if they didn't, he would be allowed to torture and torment the very real people who were trapped in this realm with him for who knows how much longer. At least in the real world, he stood the chance of being apprehended.
She stared at the floor, trying to make a decision. No one else was speaking, also apparently absorbed in their respective thought processes.

Finally, she decided to take the plunge. "Then we help you, yeah?" She looked around the group for agreement. "I mean, don't get me wrong. I don't trust you as far as I could throw you. Maybe you're onto something. Maybe you're not."

"Thank you for the vote of confidence," Ghostface said and did a tiny bow.

Ignoring him, she continued, more to convince her peers than to explain anything to the killer. "All I know is I don't want to do these trials. I don't want to play whatever game we've been subjected to. We don't even know how long we've been here, or why we're here. Any chance at breaking the cycle and escaping, I'm prepared to try."

"Yippee!" Ghostface cheered and clapped his hands. His gloves thudded together dully.

Leon took a threatening step towards him. "If I get even a hint of betrayal from you, I will stop you. Whatever means necessary."

"Scary!"

Leon glared into the screaming mask and considered taking his knife from him. But there was always the chance that if he did so, he might make a permanent enemy out of him. If Claudette thought there might be some modicum of truth to what he was saying, Leon figured he'd give him a chance. He trusted Claudette's judgment, as she didn't seem the sort to dive into something headfirst if she didn't trust that there would be something there to cushion her fall.

"Where do we find the glyphs?" Mikaela asked, breaking the tension between them.

"Oh, that part you aren't going to like," Ghostface's modified voice took on a slight whine, a sarcastic show of sympathy for their plight. "Not one bit."

"Well?" Sable prompted impatiently. "Tell us."

"For that, we'll have to go meet the other killers on their turf," he replied, clearly enjoying milking the drama of the statement.

He began to wander away from them, down the hall and towards the exit. He waved a hand over his shoulder as he went, gesturing for them to follow. He knew they would. How could they not? They were tired of the torment. Tired of the anxiety. Tired of the pain. They would do anything to get out of here, and he knew that.

Underneath his mask, unbeknownst to the survivors who placed their trust in him, Ghostface's lips peeled into a wide, cunning grin.

Chapter Text

Ghostface stared blankly at the group of survivors as he held the exit gate lever into position. They stared back at him, mostly looking unsure. Leon held his gaze on the mask, willing the person underneath it to understand that his threats weren't empty. He was uneasy about taking help from the man, but felt they didn't have much of a choice otherwise. With their memories being as faulty as they were, there wasn't any doubt in Leon's mind that if they didn't go with him, they'd just be thrust back into the endless cycle of pain.

The exit gate began to chime loudly, and Ghostface nodded along with it, seemingly full of happy energy. Claudette didn't like that he seemed so tickled by their willingness to come along with him, and she shifted uncomfortably as the mask seemed to turn in her direction. It was like he was evaluating each of them, and she didn't want to think about what he was assessing them for. The knife was prominent in his hand.

"I assume we've been through these gates or similar before," Mikaela said as the doors finally slid open with a faltering screech. "How do we know it won't just take us back to the campfire?"

"Don't you worry about that," Ghostface replied. He held up a hand to indicate for them to wait, and then produced a small, glowing device from inside his coat. "This is a condensed glyph, designed to let us travel through the gates and realms as we please."

"And where did you get that?" Leon asked, clearly distrustful.

"Stole it from another survivor." He replied blandly.

"And where are they?"

"Probably getting tortured somewhere, like you'd expect." He said this as though the question was stupid, and Leon felt annoyance tickle the back of his mind.

"Why didn't you help them? Why seek us out instead?"

"Don't get big-headed. You're just the first people to agree to my plan. The guy I took it from didn't seem to want to get to know me." Ghostface's head drooped dramatically, and he shook his head. "What's a guy gotta do to earn a little trust?"

"Not being a murderer is probably number one on that list," Sable said. "Anyway, how are we going to use it? Wouldn't the glyph only work for whoever's holding it?"

Ghostface didn't answer for a second as he stared at her. Sable shifted uncomfortably. He was still as a statue, almost as though he was a robot that had powered down temporarily.

"Sorry, that was just so asinine I couldn't understand what you were asking," Ghostface replied finally, and Sable opened her mouth to protest.

Before she could, Ghostface wandered into the exit gate and took a few steps in. Seemingly in response, the gate produced sharp, pointed spurs that seemed designed to keep them from leaving. Another obstacle. Claudette sighed.

Ghostface held up the glyph and it glowed a faint blue before the spires disappeared as quickly as they'd come. There was a faint moaning sound, as though something distant was lamenting their action. Something loud creaked around them, and each of them could feel the air oppressing them. Suddenly, everything was tinted blue.

"Alright," Ghostface said happily, his semi-mechanical voice pitching upwards as he did a little hop in place. "Go on through."

Leon took a step forward, but did not pass through the strange portal Ghostface had created. "After you. I insist."

"Nope," came the reply. "I need to hold the glyph here to make sure everyone gets through. I'll come through last."

"Then give me the glyph," Leon held out a hand.

Ghostface shifted the glyph to his knife hand and put his now-empty hand in Leon's. He tilted his head pleasantly. Leon shook it away, irritated.

"Let's just go," Mikaela spoke up, taking a step forward into the exit gate. "We don't really have much of a choice as long as he's going to keep fucking around with us."

"What if we get separated?" Sable chimed in. "We don't know what's on the other side of this."

"That's where trust comes in, sweetpea," Ghostface answered, and then he shrugged, frustrated. "If you don't want to listen to me, then don't, but the more time you waste, the more likely it is that the Dredge will come back before we leave."

"The Dredge?" Claudette looked thoughtful, but concerned. "Was that the thing you killed?"

Ghostface laughed, a sharp, ugly little noise that crackled with a mechanical twinge. "You can't kill the killers," he informed her. "You can only make them take a break."

"Right, well, let's go then." Leon had enough. "I'll go first."

If it was some sort of trap, he didn't want to see anyone else take the bait. He was used to taking the lead and putting himself in danger. He didn't get the sense that the other three were exactly battle-hardened.

"Be careful," Claudette said as he stepped forward into the blue.

He gave her a small nod and then stepped through the gate, disappearing from view. There was a long moment of silence among the four who remained as they stared into the fog. Mikaela braced herself for a scream or a yell or something, or even Leon reemerging and letting them all know it had been a trick. But nothing came.

Ghostface gestured grandly for the ladies to follow Leon's lead. They glanced amongst each other, and then began walking forward.

"Together, then?" Sable said, taking a deep breath.

"Together," Claudette nodded.

They stepped through the fog. Ghostface soon followed behind.

--

Leon walked in a pit of darkness, with no sense of direction-- up, down, left, right, it all seemed the same to him. He could hear a faint ringing, and what he thought sounded like limbs cracking into place. It was eerie, if not faint, but he continued into the darkness at a brisk pace. He imagined it would be pretty easy to overcome him in such an area, as he couldn't see anything but the encroaching blackness surrounding him.

He continued on like this for what felt like a long time, but this did not deter him. If he had been transported to some oubliette, he didn't want to know. He refused to believe that he could've been trapped in some dark, empty realm. That wouldn't be much fun for the masked man that'd brought them here, and he had the distinct impression that Ghostface was all about having a good time.

As he walked, he began to remember. The Racoon City incident was the first memory to reappear, and he quickly brushed this from his mind. If he dwelled on it for too long, he knew he would quickly become overwhelmed. Now was not the time to peruse that memory much further, and Leon was adept at compartmentalizing. Then, information from the trials began to seep in-- he had seen his cohorts before a few times, but there were others he had been through them with. Others that he now worried were going to be trapped in the Entity's realm forever.

The memories were temporarily overwhelming-- being killed again and again, escaping narrowly at times but swiftly at others, helping people down from hooks and patching their bleeding wounds... Leon stopped walking as he felt his head begin to spin. No, he couldn't process any of this now-- he had a mission to attend to. The breadth of it was only now being revealed to him. How many survivors were there? Would he be able to help them all? With everything he knew to be going on in his own plane of existence, he wasn't sure he'd be able to dedicate the time and resources necessary to liberate everyone from this place.

His pulse began to quicken as he felt powerlessness threatening to overtake him. His breath hitched. Then, he tried to calm it, taking a deep breath in through his nose, then out through his mouth. He couldn't panic. He would not panic.

Continuing on, he stared at the ground as he went. Where his feet were was the only tangible sense of direction he had, other than forward. Gradually, the ground began to change underneath him, a scene attempting to pierce through this utter darkness.

Blades of grass began to poke through the floor-- just a few at first, but Leon was not one to miss any details. This gave him hope, and the anxiety he felt over remembering so much at once began to subside. His boots crunched on gravel and foliage as the world seemed to open around him, giving way to a small playground and what he thought might be someone's house.

Wherever he was, he seemed to have arrived at the destination Ghostface had in mind for them. He stopped, glancing around. It was a neighborhood; he could see another house across the street from where he stood. Nearby, a generator sat silent next to a set of carefully-manicured bushes. It seemed they had entered the realm of another killer, just like Ghostface had promised.

He supposed it was best to wait for the others, but he wasn't oblivious to the fact that there was probably another killer waiting around for them here. He wondered if they knew he had arrived and where they might be.

He made his way up the steps to the nearest house, careful to be as quiet as possible just in case. As he suspected, nobody seemed to be home. The door was wide open, and there were blood stains on the carpet. Maintaining his composure, he spotted familiar red lockers, a palette, and a set of stairs leading upwards. He decided he would wait at the window that faced where he had arrived, hoping that the others would make it here in a similar fashion.

--

Mikaela was certain Ghostface had played them as soon as she entered the neighborhood. This was just another trial-- a generator sat untouched in the middle of an unfamiliar street, and quiet houses loomed on either side of her. There was no sign of Leon anywhere, and she briefly considered that Ghostface had manipulated all of them into being willingly separated.

She too had regained her memories of the trials during the journey through the darkness, so she knew exactly what needed to be done. Whether she had been tricked or not, she wasn't about to let herself die to another murderous psycho. She broke out into a run towards the generator and poised herself in front of the inner mechanisms, ready to get this shit over with.

She was frustrated that she had been manipulated so easily-- a guy with a knife who refused to show them his face? Really, that was who she'd decided to trust? Worse, she recognized Sable now as her best friend-- someone she had known intimately and really cared for. And she was nowhere in sight. He'd separated them. And what the hell was Sable doing there anyway? Had she been whisked away by the Entity too, or had she done something stupid going to look for Mikaela?

"Fucking stupid guy, stupid mask," she whispered to herself as she furiously worked at the wires inside the generator. "I'll kill him myself if I get the chance."

A few minutes went by with her quietly working, cursing under her breath. Mikaela had always been intuitive and sharp, noticing things that others would usually overlook. So when she felt the hair on the back of her neck prickle uncomfortably, she couldn't shake the feeling that she was being watched.

She paused her work and glanced around as the generator quietly tried to sputter to life in her hands. There were two familiar red lockers behind her, with traffic cones and partitions in front of her. Cars littered the street, and some of their lights flickered, but otherwise she didn't see anything out of the ordinary. She went back to her work.

--

Sable found herself in a basement with, yes, another fucking generator. Christ, she was sick of this. She realized she was sick of it because she could remember now, and she marveled at how she would've loved to be immersed in something as occult as whatever this realm was. She remembered seeking out Mikaela after her disappearance, and that she had willingly subjected herself to this to get her back.

Now, her heart filled with anxiety. She was alone again, and she wondered if Ghostface had really fucked them over. Stupidly, she'd thought he might be telling the truth, but now she wasn't certain.

"Mikaela?" she whispered into the empty basement, not wanting to start working on the generator. It felt like admitting defeat-- admitting that they were still stuck in these trials.

Still though, the memories coming back felt like good progress. Maybe he hadn't been jerking them around. The Entity didn't want them to remember, and somehow Ghostface had made it possible for them to do so. That said, she'd had enough of this particular experience and had been hoping for a more immediate solution to being stuck here.

As she looked around the relatively barren basement, she wondered where everyone else had gone. She was used to feeling alone and most of the time even welcomed it, but this sucked. Begrudgingly, she approached the generator and began to poke around inside of it. It felt practiced now rather than foreign, and she hoped that being able to remember the strategy and pace of it all would help them reach the end goal: true escape.

Her ears pricked at the slightest sound above her and she froze. Rising from her spot in front of the generator, she hesitated. It sounded like a creaking staircase, but she couldn't be sure from her position in the basement.

Crouching and moving quietly, she turned and passed the red lockers that lined the wall opposite the generator. She could hear heavy footsteps on the stairs now, though she had to strain to make them out. Whoever it was made it a point to move stealthily.

Rounding the wall, she could see the stairs. She saw heavy boots taking the steps down, and she ducked behind the wall. It could be Leon, but it also could've been something worse. Holding her breath, she froze into her position and was relieved when the presence went around the other direction.

She followed quietly, trying to see if it was her friend or something else.

What she saw was a towering man, bulky and huge in a bloodied blue jumpsuit. A knife was in his massive hand. He was inspecting the generator, which still sat unmoving against the wall. She ducked back behind the stairs when she saw him turning, and her heart leapt into her throat as she wondered if he'd caught a glimpse of her. He didn't say anything or make any noise at all really, so she hoped she had been fast enough.

Without waiting to find out, Sable took a deep breath and raced up the stairs, cringing as they creaked underneath her boots.

Sprinting, she made her way into the main section of the house and booked it towards an open window. She vaulted through it and broke out into a run across the backyard, eyes frantically searching for a familiar face or an exit. She heard something slam behind her, so she continued running towards the next house in the hopes that she could find somewhere to hide.

She didn't want to look over her shoulder, but her grotesque curiosity got the better of her. Looming behind her and exiting the house was the man again, and she felt her limbs go numb with fear as she willed herself to run faster. She realized he wasn't moving, but he'd definitely seen her. He stared at her through a strange, almost featureless expression, and after a moment, Sable realized he was wearing a mask. It sagged and drooped at the blank, empty eye holes, and what should've been skin was shining a pale white through the darkness.

She screamed, hoping that the sound would alert her cohorts if they were somewhere there with her. Fear propelled her forward, her boots thudding on the pavement as loudly as her heart beat in her chest. When she looked over her shoulder again, the man was still there. While he remained still under her gaze, she noticed he had moved closer and was still staring at her. She felt sick with terror.

Running down the street, she saw a partition and a generator before her. The lights on it were flickering pathetically, and she saw Mikaela stand up from behind it, apparently alerted by her screaming.

"Sable! Thank God-- are you okay?" Mikaela began to walk towards her as Sable gestured wildly.

"Run!" She managed to say through breaths that were choked with anxiety.

Mikaela didn't question her, breaking out into a sprint alongside Sable. She glanced over her shoulder to see what they might be running from, and saw a great, hulking figure looming beside an abandoned police car.

--

Claudette heard the scream and froze, recognizing Sable's voice.

She had been walking quietly around the perimeters of their current realm, noting the exit gate's location and perusing her newfound memories. If Ghostface was telling the truth, they shouldn't have to do the trials anymore. If he wasn't, then there was another killer here ready to make sacrifices out of them.

Based on Sable's scream, Claudette prepared herself for the worst.

Moving quickly but quietly, she made her way towards the screaming. She saw the man before she saw Sable, and she quickly crouched behind a parked car to hide. Peering around the trunk, she saw the man begin to walk-- or no, maybe more like a stomp given his size-- down the street.

Her heart beat heavy in her chest as she watched, unable to see either Sable or Mikaela from her position. She nearly screamed and jumped out of her skin when something tapped her shoulder, and she turned with her hands up to face whoever it was.

A ghostly visage stared blankly back at her, crouched alongside her and tilting its head.

She'd never been happier to see Ghostface in her life.

"You're actually here," she whispered. "I thought you tricked us."

"That's mean," Ghostface said back, not bothering to lower his altered voice. "Why would I do that?"

Ignoring the question, Claudette turned her attention back down the street. The man had disappeared, and there was no further screaming. She hoped that mean Sable had gotten away.

"This just looks like another trial," Claudette accused, turning back to Ghostface. "What're we supposed to do differently?"

"Well," Ghostface seemed annoyed by this apparently easy question. "I'm going to best him in hand-to-hand combat, and he's gonna be forced to join our quest."

Claudette stared blankly at him in disbelief.

"Just kidding. We're gonna reason with him."

Claudette continued to stare.

"I'm serious," Ghostface whined. "Listen, I know some things about him that'll get his attention. He may look like a--"

"Oh fuck."

"What?"

Claudette pointed. Ghostface turned just in time to see the man bearing down on them, moving quickly now and holding his knife aloft in the air. Claudette's instinct was to run, but Ghostface merely stood up to his full height, waiting for the man to reach them.

"Mikey!" He exclaimed just before the knife went whistling through the air at him.

Claudette whimpered and took a few stuttering steps in the other direction as Ghostface narrowly avoided being stabbed.

"I know Laurie!" Ghostface yelled, his hands up and his own knife poised to strike.

The man swung again and Ghostface fell unceremoniously to the ground. Claudette shrieked and turned swiftly, ready to run away from the scene. With Ghostface dead, there was no way out unless she could get the glyph from him. "Mikey" was bearing down on Ghostface, grabbing him with one hand and hoisting him upwards.

Claudette was amazed to see that Ghostface was still alive, as he kicked and struggled against the man's grasp.

"Wait!" He was yelling. "I mean I know where Laurie Strode is!"

The man hesitated, staring blankly at his captive before chucking him at the ground. He continued to brandish his knife, but stood stock still, waiting.

Ghostface landed on his ass and let out a grunt. "Right, I knew you were sick of murdering randos," he said as he struggled to his feet, hands up as though saying 'mercy!'. "Sick of doing the Entity's bidding too, eh?"

The man continued to watch Ghostface silently. Claudette couldn't tell if he was looking at her too. She took a few steps away anyway, wanting some distance between them in case this went badly.

"And every time you see her, she gets away. Or you kill her, and you see her again after a few more trials. She keeps coming back, huh? That sucks." Ghostface was speaking as though they were good friends, as though he hadn't just laid hands on him. "What if I told you we could get out of here and I can get you to Laurie-- once and for all?"

Michael lowered his knife.

"Oh good," Ghostface said with an overdramatic sigh. Then to Claudette he said, "I think that mean's he's listening."

Chapter Text

Inside the festering darkness, contaminated blight pulsed and groaned endlessly. Something had changed within it, though it was beyond the comprehension of any mortal soul. Spidery legs jutted from inside the billowing black, twitching and prodding almost as though communicating. The sounds that echoed throughout the space were loud, clicking, and ominous. Oozing orange sacs and spindly, reaching tendrils pulsated in tandem; everything within the plane seemed connected, like it was breathing in unison.

Taurie Cain sat on her knees, trembling but headstrong. Whatever was here, it begged to be let out-- to spread outside of this limiting, liminal space. A single crow was watching her from atop a bulging orifice, and she stared back at it knowingly. The Entity was watching. Waiting.

"I won't hesitate again," she whispered into the void as it crackled and broke around her. She didn't dare say more, lest she upset the realm she had stolen into.

Leaning forward, she put her hands out as though supplicating herself, then began mumbling a familiar incantation-- a ritual she had learned after joining the upper echelons of the Black Talon. She tried to push the thought of the organization from her mind, still furious that she had apparently not done enough to avoid becoming a sacrifice herself. Had it been because she had spared Jordan? Had it been because she hadn't dedicated herself enough?

Why had she been chosen to serve in this way? As a mere sacrificial lamb to slaughter, she was no better than any other that had come before her. Then again-- a darker, more confusing line of thought persisted-- maybe her involvement in the trials wasn't The Entity's designation for her worship, but a punishment for all she had done before. She had acted with hubris when she'd entered The Bleed to save her family, entering without any protection at all. She knew she was an outlier because she had escaped, and The Entity was prone to eradicating and feeding off anything that invoked Its fury.

The space before her began to glow faintly, and her blighted surroundings quickened in their movements around her as if in response. She remained steady, even though she knew this ritual of worship would only strengthen The Entity. Her hope was that it would be read as an apology-- a reaffirmation of her bond with It.

As she reached the end of her incantation, she could feel the density of the air around her changing, the empty black sky above her opening up and revealing itself to her. From within it emerged several thick, spidery appendages, slowly descending towards her. She did not move as they stretched out, the sound of popping limbs cracking through the air like whips. They reached for her, and she allowed them to touch her, barely containing a shiver against their surprisingly gentle grasp. They touched her shoulders, felt her cheeks, and prodded against her spine as though they were reading braille etched into her skin.

"Please," she whispered up into The Entity's embrace. "I only wish to serve."

As there was no face to read, no body language to dissect, she could only hope that it was believing her lie. She willed her fury at The Entity to sink into her subconscious so that it could not taste it in the sweat on her skin. The points of the legs pricked at her flesh as they began to grab her harder, and for a moment, she was certain it was going to kill her on the spot.

Instead, she was flooded with despair. It was like an injection-- it seeped through her veins and clawed at her throat as she became desperate to scream. She gave into the urge, knowing The Entity would feed off it, knowing It would appreciate the sacrifice of her own hope. She only hoped that it would not rob her of it completely-- that it would not find the hope she had hidden in the dark recesses of her plan to escape.

Of course, this was a futile effort. The Entity was not known for overlooking things or for mercy. Taurie could feel the fatigue setting in as any positive outlook she might've had was robbed from her. She had known that approaching the heart of this being would be this way, but still she quickly became overwhelmed by the madness that losing all hope can instill. Her body felt desperate to collapse or run for some relief, but The Entity's appendages held her in place.

"This is my sacrifice to you," she whimpered, the back of her mind still clinging to her underlying plan. "Take it all from me. All that I have left is yours."

The sharp ends of the legs were making her bleed now, but she barely noticed. If The Entity was draining her, then perhaps it was also seeing her as a dutiful servant; someone It could trust to do Its bidding. As her blood leaked from the puncture wounds, so too did the warm feeling of her dreams and longing for a better future. It would have been enough to drive anyone mad, but Taurie held strong. She wouldn't let despair overcome her-- not while she still yearned for meaning, and that meaning could only come from her freedom.

Finally, when she could no longer feel her limbs and a pit of helplessness had opened up inside of her, The Entity released its grasp. The limbs hovered before her and then one reared back and struck at her, piercing her directly in the heart. Taurie gasped and screamed, her head swimming with the sudden rush of adrenaline and endorphins that release when someone is close to death. She sobbed as the appendage dug deeper, then gagged as it wrenched itself free.

Through blurred vision that came and went, Taurie could see it holding something aloft before her, seeming to show it to her. A chunk of bloody meat was impaled on its leg, and Taurie instinctively knew it was part of her heart. She shouldn't be alive from such a thing, and yet she could feel that The Entity was keeping her conscious. Then, each of the legs curled and began to withdraw back into the inky void above her. She knew her sacrifice had been accepted, but that she would not be released. Now, she had another job to do. Now, she was expected to do what she had hesitated to do with Jordan before she had been whisked away by the fog.

The Entity expected her to kill.

As the realm began to hum and throb with its newfound victory, Taurie Cain closed her eyes. The real struggle had just begun.

----

When Leon caught up with the group, he was immediately distrustful. He'd heard the screams and had run as fast as possible towards the source, recognizing the voices involved. Arriving on the scene, he slowed to a halt beside the women and stared at the apparent new member of their group. Guard up, he looked at Ghostface as a prompt for him to explain.

Instead of offering his wisdom, Ghostface merely said, "What? Stop giving me stink-eye."

"A friend of yours?" Leon gestured to the man in the drooping, vaguely human mask.

"Best friends," Ghostface said happily. "This is Michael. He's going to help us."

Leon looked at Michael, who stared blankly back at him. His posture was stiff and controlled, and after a long moment, Leon realized that he wasn't going to speak to him. This did nothing to make him more trusting of the situation.

"How's that?" Claudette spoke up.

Ghostface cocked his head at her.

"I mean," she looked like she was trying hard to remain patient. "How is he going to help us?"

"Well," Ghostface clicked his tongue several times, almost as though he was trying to be annoying. "Look at him."

"I have been," said Sable. "I almost watched him kill you just now. So please, enlighten us further."

"I mean he's big and strong and has a supremely iron will. And he's very motivated." Ghostface nodded sagely.

"And Laurie Strode... She's his motivation?" Mikaela prodded.

"Yep."

"That doesn't sound good." Leon said, not willing to parse through much more of Ghostface's bullshit. Sarcastically, he added, "No offense, big guy. But I'm willing to bet your motivations aren't exactly pure."

Michael seemed to look at him, but still did not speak. Leon thought he saw a slight tilt of his head, but couldn't be sure. He braced himself for retaliation that did not come. It was clear through the heavy breathing in the larger man's chest that he was worked up though, so Leon couldn't be positive he wasn't inviting a physical altercation.

"Alright," Claudette interjected before Leon could say any more. "He did just try to manhandle you, but since you seem comfortable with that, let's say we trust him."

"Sure," Sable said, her voice dripping with mock sincerity. "Maybe threatening to stab each other is just how these people communicate. Let's go, Ghostface. Next steps, please. How's mister silent treatment going to get us out of here?"

"Can you give us a moment?" Ghostface said to them, wandering to Michael's side and slipping an arm under his.

Michael wrested his arm away immediately, but did not otherwise react.

"No. I want to hear what you have to say to him," Leon replied.

"No."

Leon scoffed, fake-smiling. "Look, I know this is a game to you, but I don't trust you as far as I can throw you. Do you really think I'm going to let you go plot with this guy right in front of my face?"

"No," Ghostface replied. "I'm going to plot with this guy right over there." He pointed vaguely in a direction away from the group.

Claudette gently tapped Leon's elbow. "Let them," she said quietly, and when he looked at her quizzically, she shrugged. "What've we got to lose?"

Leon didn't want to tell her that their sanity and lives were on the line because he knew she was already aware of that. He looked from Mikaela to Sable, both of whom were looking at him for a final decision. He frowned and ran a hand through his hair.

"Fine," Leon said. "But stay where I can see you. Maybe us three need to have a conversation, too."

"Yippee!" Ghostface said, then gestured for Michael to follow him. To everyone's surprise, he fell into step behind him and they ventured some distance away. Leon didn't take his eyes off them. From their new position down the street, Ghostface gave them a thumbs up and turned to speak with his compatriot.

Leon turned to the women. "You guys know--"

"Yeah, we don't trust him either. Right?" Sable looked from Claudette to Mikaela who were both shaking their heads.

"Absolutely not," Mikaela replied. "But what other choice do we have? He has that glyph on him that apparently lets him travel through these weird pocket realms. As long as he has that, we have to tag along."

"The only other option is doing trials until we figure it out on our own," Claudette offered. "And there's no guarantee we keep our memories or our sanity if we keep travelling the beaten path."

"I'd feel better about it if we were the ones with the weapons instead of them," Leon said. "I'm going to take the knife off that idiot."

The girls stared back at him with a mixture of startled expressions.

"I don't think he's going to let you do that," Sable ventured.

"I know. I didn't say he was going to do it willingly."

"Then, how...?"

Leon almost laughed. Ghostface was obscured by the cloak, sure, but he was fairly certain that he could take him in a fight. He was adept at close combat, after all, and a deft hand with a knife.

"Just trust me," he said. "We need leverage. I hate to say it, but I'll need you to run interference if the big guy gets involved. Do you think you can do that?"

Claudette looked immediately terrified, and Mikaela gave a disbelieving laugh. Sable, on the other hand, nodded firmly.

"If you've got a plan, then you're right. One of us needs to be armed in case they're over there talking about what our heads would look like on pikes." She looked at Mikaela. "Ya know?"

"What're we gonna do? Tackle him?"

"Yeah, I mean," Sable shrugged. "Yeah, I guess. Probably?"

Leon nodded. "I'll take the knife from him. Once I've got it, if Mike goes crazy, I'll take care of him, too."

"They're coming back," Claudette said.

"Good fuckin' luck," Mikaela whispered as Ghostface and Michael approached their group again.

"Well, I think we've got a deal!" Ghostface announced happily as he bounded back into his place in the circle.

Michael gave a singular, stoic nod.

Leon wasted no time. He was banking on the fact that Michael didn't seem particularly moved by or interested in Ghostface for this to work. He turned to Ghostface and grabbed him by the elbow, pulling him to the side.

"Hey!" Ghostface protested, trying and failing to wrench his hand away. "Hands off the merchandise."

"Now we're going to have a talk of our own," Leon informed him.

Ghostface swiped his knife through the air and Leon caught him with two hands by the wrist. He pressed his fingers into the back of Ghostface's knife hand and pushed it back into itself, then wrenched it to the side violently. This sent the man's balance off-kilter, and Leon swung a leg forward and swept it behind Ghostface's knee, wrenching his wrist in the same direction to drop him to the floor.

He had to hand it to him, Ghostface had a pretty sturdy grip on his knife. Leon scrambled on top of him, pressing his knee into his back and folding Ghostface's hand backwards-- the wrong way-- to force his fingers off the knife. In this fashion, he peeled the Buck knife from his hand and leveled it at his throat.

"Don't move," he growled. "Or I'll rip your mask off, too. You're going to listen to me now, okay?"

Sable, Mikaela and Claudette had positioned themselves between Michael and the scuffle, although Michael did not seem particularly interested in intervening. Sable could've sworn she heard a huff from inside the mask that sounded almost like a laugh, but she couldn't be sure. She braced herself for oncoming conflict, but there was none. They merely stared at each other before Michael glanced over their shoulders at the pile of Leon and Ghostface.

"Give me that back," Ghostface's cheery persona had gone, and in its place was a gruff, furious tone. "I'll make you pay you fucking piece of--"

Leon pushed harder; one hand still wrenching at his wrist and the other holding the knife with an elbow pressing into his back. Ghostface groaned. "I won't hesitate to kill you if I have to," Leon warned. "I'll take that glyph off your body and we'll figure it out on our own. So shut up and listen."

Shockingly, he did not follow these instructions. Instead, he thrashed underneath him, trying to buck the blond off his back to no avail. "Get the fuck off me," Ghostface snarled, and Leon was surprised at how different he sounded, even through the voice modulator.

Leon quickly released Ghostface from his grasp in good faith and leapt to his feet, taking a few steps back and brandishing the knife before him to ward him off. Ghostface rolled over and scrambled to his feet, staring hungrily at his knife in Leon's hand.

"If I get my hands back on that knife," Ghostface growled. "I will fucking gut you."

"Take it from me then," Leon said confidently, lifting an eyebrow at him. "See where that gets you."

Ghostface whirled around to Michael, though they were separated by Mikaela, Claudette, and Sable who were watching with bated breath.

"Gimme your knife," he demanded, shoving Sable to the side and posturing at Claudette to get her to move. She flinched out of the way. "Give me your knife, now."

Michael stared blankly at him, and Leon saw his hand tighten around his own knife. It was subtle, but a clear signal that Michael did not intend on helping him.

"NOW," Ghostface demanded, reaching for it.

Michael easily swept his other hand through the air, knocking Ghostface away from him. Stumbling around in a circular motion, he whirled around towards Leon again and lunged for him. Leon deftly stepped to the side, kicking a leg at the back of Ghostface's leg and knocking him to his knees. This didn't deter him for long, and he scrambled to his feet again like a wild animal, frenzied.

"I have killed more difficult things than you," Leon said sternly. Mikaela looked at Sable with surprise, and she stared back at her wide-eyed. Leon continued, "If you think I won't do what I have to to get everyone out of here-- if you think I won't kill you before the justice system can get their hands on you-- you've got another thing comin'."

"Ha--" Ghostface spat behind his mask. "Stupid cop. You can't kill me. Idiot. In this realm, I'd just come back. But I guarantee you the glyph would be lost and you'd be stuck here forever. So think carefully before you shit all over your friends' chances of escape."

Both poised to either defend against or attack the other, they stared at each other in contemplative, furious silence. Finally, Claudette spoke up.

"What do you mean that you've, ah, um," she looked concerned and a little sick. "You've killed people?"

Leon didn't take his eyes off Ghostface, but he did let out a small, sad sigh. "Look, we can talk about that later, okay? I'll tell you everything," he said. "But I'm not a killer like him. You don't have to worry about that."

Claudette didn't respond, wringing her hands. Sable and Mikaela stared between them as if trying to decide jointly.

Leon glanced at her and made eye contact, and he stared at her sadly. "I promise, okay? I don't like to hurt people. It's not my style."

Claudette seemed to think about it a second more before nodding back slowly. "Okay," she said. "I trust you."

Leon turned back to Ghostface to see him inching closer to him. Leon opened his jacket and shoved the knife into the holster at his shoulder, staring blankly into Ghostface's mournful mask.

"Now I have something you want, and you have something I want," Leon informed him, seeming satisfied that this was now over. "I'll even give it back to you if you can get us out of whatever hell this is. But you need to fulfill your end of the bargain and get us out of here. Otherwise, you'll be just as stuck and defenseless as everyone else is."

Ghostface didn't respond, clearly still furious, but unable to do anything about it without Michael's cooperation.

"Next steps, then?" Mikaela ventured carefully.

"This isn't over," Ghostface told Leon.

"Yeah," Leon said noncommittally. "I know."