Your heart is pounding. Your muscles twitch from frightened anticipation. “Is he gone?” you thought. Your scared and dilated (e/c) eyes dart around, trying to pick up a shimmer in the dark. That shimmer would be the killer, roaming about invisible. You haven’t seen him yet, but you swore you heard the ominous ringing of a bell nearby. You peek out from the large, red and black, conveniently placed closet you decided to use to hide away. You don’t hear anything or see anything that would warn you of a nearby killer, so you carefully take a step out, close the closet door behind you, and tread carefully away.
The place you are at is a neighborhood with a street known as Lampkin Lane (which said so on the nearby street sign): there are four pairs of pastel-colored houses facing each other across a street. These houses were separated by the other houses from within their respective rows by tall hedges and white or brown picket fences. There is even a small play area in between two of the sickly pastel houses, sporting a swing set, benches with seats, and even a slide. There were other gaps in between other buildings that held random piles of garbage and debris that the owners, who are long gone, have left behind. The only things that were ominous about the place are the large brick walls surrounding the small neighborhood; the police cars strewn about the street, their lights blaring yet abandoned; the houses as lifeless as the police cars; and the random tall sacrificial-looking hooks and run-down generators strewn about this killing field.
Oh yea, and the fact that there is a deranged killer on the loose, who can turn invisible at will, and you don’t remember how you got here, and only remembering meeting three other survivors as soon as you woke up here, who are also fighting to save themselves from this hell.
On each end of the street is the goal: a run-down garage door-looking gate that needs to be opened by a switch next to them. The only way to get out would be to repair these broken down generators. There were three generators done that you knew of. In the same house you hid in, there is a generator on the first floor. It is half-way done and you are on the second story.
You sneak down past the aging and obviously seventies wallpaper and decor. The generator, five feet tall by five feet across and by about three feet wide, capped with a yellow plate to cover the inner workings of the generator, sat there with sparks jumping out from the eight cylindrical pistons as you try to get close enough to stop it from spurting out sparks and avoid getting burned. You noticed the pistons were moving slower than you saw last time which was about ten minutes ago. He must’ve damaged it. Damn.
You decided to work on the generator, despite the possible danger that he could be standing still and watching you as your deft hands get in between the gears and pipes to pull debris and jostle the parts into their correct orientations.
After about five minutes, the generator came to life, brightening up the entire house and giving some more power to the exit gate switches. That’s when you heard a dull thud as a shiver ran down your spine. You rushed outside just in time to see red and black spider-like legs rising to the sky, carrying away a victim, who you didn’t know had been hooked. The limp body got taken away by this “Entity” and then that’s when you saw a shimmer in the dark as you looked down from craning your neck.
He’s coming for you.
You panicked. You sprinted away, forgetting about your mediocre stamina. You can feel your lungs burning and your legs becoming sore from crouching and running as you jump over a fence that only reached to your waist. You knew he could track you when you run. You learned that the hard way. You looked to see if the exit gates had enough power - they weren’t ready, yet. There must be another way out.
You start running around the entire neighborhood, frantically trying to find some salvation. You can see broken hooks where the others have gone. The destroyed hooks had fallen from their perch and there was a pool of blood surrounding them. The strange thing was, there were only two broken hooks. That must’ve meant somebody else was still alive! Where were they?
You were about to look for them when you heard the distant sound of a bell breaking the fearful silence. You also hear two men. One of them laughing, you presumably thought it was the killer, and the other man screaming and pleading for his life to be spared.
You sneak around to see the action and see the killer, smiling and chuckling maniacally down at the poor man, who was kneeling with a large gash on his side from being wounded by the killer and a hole in his shoulder. He was already hooked. The killer looked up at the dark, foreboding sky, as if the starless and moonless night was talking to him. A wicked smile then appeared on his face as he started to insanely chuckle. He smacked the man over the head with his morbid club of a man’s spine and skull with three sharp knives tied to the top jaw of this bloody weapon. The man fell to the ground, grunting pain as the new wound started to bleed.
The killer looked over him, and stood above him, and his shrieky and shrill voice rang out through the silence, chilling your spine. It wouldn’t have chilled you to the core if you hadn’t known who this was. He said: “It told me that I can kill you... You’re done, boy!”
The killer started to repeatedly slam the club’s sharp “teeth” into the man’s back, gouging huge chunks out of his back and breaking his spine in several places, earning a cry of pain and then gurgling when he broke a rib, which perforated his lung and heart.
The killer cackled feverishly while doing this heinous act, and then stopped. Your horrified look became one with fear as you saw his head turn toward you slowly. The creature, now that it was underneath a streetlight, was now way more visible than you would have liked. The killer looked just like a regular human, but was wearing dark, bloody blue jeans with bandages from the waist down. He was wearing blood-soaked sneakers, and he had on a grey hoodie. The hoodie had a little shroud on it, which had a white Omega symbol on the hoodie and the shroud. The man also had a grey ribbon going over his eyes, which had a black Omega symbol on that. His hair was brown and matted with blood, and his skin tone was pale. His teeth glinted in the light as he raised his bell, topped with a skull, and smacked it once with his club. He growled lowly and then his pitch rose to a shrill sound as he said: “Now, it is time for me to claim my prize!”
Terrified, and seeing the last survivor die before you, you realized you were now alone. Alone with a terrifying monster. Your (f/c) shirt got torn as the brushes you were hiding in snagged your shirt. You couldn’t feel your feet as you run ever so quickly away across the neatly trimmed grass. You run sporadically in every which way, confused as to where to go. Didn’t one of the survivors say something about seeing a trapdoor? Where? Could it help you escape? You could hear the killer calling behind you, wanting you to come back. It almost sounded pleading, yet with a twinge of insanity. That monster is no human. His humanity had left him long ago.
You speed your way past the houses, hopping over leftover fallen pallets and glassless windows of the houses. You finally heard wind coming from the ground nearby. You turn your head, hoping to see the trapdoor open and ready to receive a survivor. You guide your eyes with your ears, pinpointing the sound of the whooshing of the wind before you hear something behind you. In a blind panic, you race forward, and found your target. The hatch looks inviting and you are so close. You hear the bell behind you. You are so close. You dive for the hatch, getting half way in, head first. Sadly, it was all for naught.
There was a tight grip on your ankle, and you yelp in pain. You feel yourself getting yanked out of the hatch and forced onto the ground. You turn yourself around to meet your killer, face-to-face. You inch closer to the hatch, crawling away from him, but he wasn’t that dumb. He grabbed you by your shirt collar and roughly threw you onto his shoulder. He walked over to the hatch and kicked it closed, and he walked back to a large blue house with a jack-o-lantern on the porch’s white railing. You struggle to break free, but his grip was too tight on the small of your back. You desperately kick his stomach and smash your fists against his back, hoping he’ll let go, but he didn’t so much as budge. He just got closer and closer to the basement.
He finally spoke, his twisted grin never ceasing. His voice sounded shrilly. It was always shrilly. “Awww, you don’t want to have some fun in the sex dungeon? Come on, I know you’ll like it.”
His voice cracked at the end. You weren’t so sure if that was intentional or not. As you feel your strength ceasing from the adrenaline fading, your struggles became less and less prominent and you just laid there on his shoulder. Limp. Unable to move. You can feel his chest rise and fall quickly, like he was chuckling silently to himself. There was a sense of giddiness in his step you didn’t quite understand. You soon understood as he set you against a bed a little harshly, the view of the four sacrificial hooks in the middle of the basement scared you, but what disturbed you even more was a shrine dedicated… To you.
“Why?” was all you could choke out.
The man before you just put his finger on his bearded chin, as if he were actually contemplating your question. He then shrugged and said with a wry smile: “I always wanted you to be mine. Ever since I saw you that day…”
You finally regain your strength and courage enough to demand answers, your voice rising a little. “Why did you side with the entity? Did you get lost and thought that was the easier way out? Why me? Why did you choose me as your stupid obsession? What, did you actually have a crush on me?”
This new anger surged through you and it somewhat surprised your killer. He just chuckled and replied with “so many questions” before pacing the area in front of you. You look down at the bed to get ahold of your surroundings. The bed sheets were pale pink and the mattress was an interesting off-white. There were no headboards or footboards, but poles on each corner of the bed. They each had rope tied to them. Your only thought went to the worst conclusion: He really was going to use this place as a sex dungeon!
You looked for a way to escape, but the stairs leading out of the basement were on the opposite side of the room, and you were in the corner. There was no way you were going to make it, especially with the killer pacing about in the way of the stairs. Maybe you could appease him for a bit, drop down his guard, then make a break for it when he least expected it. It was then that he finally answered all of your questions in order.
“I sided with the entity because it gave a very compelling offer. If I killed for it, I’d get a prize of my choosing, and that was you. I guess I was a little lost, but now… Now, the entity guides me, as well as my obsession with you. I chose you as my obsession because… Before this, I did have a crush on you. After I sided with the entity, it must’ve multiplied my crush for you tenfold, making me a little like that crazy ex-girlfriend found in memes. But I don’t mind it, especially now that I have you. I didn’t think you’d date me anyway, so this was an alternative. Especially when the entity told me you were looking at someone else….” He hissed at you in the end of his reply. He really wasn’t happy.
Hearing this, you felt sad for him. How could he ever think you weren’t going to date him? Or at least have a small crush on him? You did have a crush on him, but now that was ruined, you didn’t know what to do. What was even more confusing was how he thought you were crushing on someone else.
“Crushing on who? I already was crushing on you, so who else did you see?” you decided to ask. You honestly didn’t remember.
The killer grunted and walked over to his little shrine of you. He pulled out a burnt picture of you holding hands with…. An ex of yours. But had you really wanted to go back to that ex? He then replied with “Him… You still loved him…”
Yea, it was going to be impossible to stop loving him, but it wasn’t like you were going to go back to him. You tried to reassure the killer with that piece of logic, but he tipped the picture so that your ex’s side of the picture got burned away, with only you left. He set it back on the shrine, set his bloody weapon and bell down and then he took off the ribbon. He had stunning hazel eyes that shifted from green to blue every now and then. It was him. Ryan.
The place you are at is a neighborhood with a street known as Lampkin Lane (which said so on the nearby street sign): there are four pairs of pastel-colored houses facing each other across a street. These houses were separated by the other houses from within their respective rows by tall hedges and white or brown picket fences. There is even a small play area in between two of the sickly pastel houses, sporting a swing set, benches with seats, and even a slide. There were other gaps in between other buildings that held random piles of garbage and debris that the owners, who are long gone, have left behind. The only things that were ominous about the place are the large brick walls surrounding the small neighborhood; the police cars strewn about the street, their lights blaring yet abandoned; the houses as lifeless as the police cars; and the random tall sacrificial-looking hooks and run-down generators strewn about this killing field.
Oh yea, and the fact that there is a deranged killer on the loose, who can turn invisible at will, and you don’t remember how you got here, and only remembering meeting three other survivors as soon as you woke up here, who are also fighting to save themselves from this hell.
On each end of the street is the goal: a run-down garage door-looking gate that needs to be opened by a switch next to them. The only way to get out would be to repair these broken down generators. There were three generators done that you knew of. In the same house you hid in, there is a generator on the first floor. It is half-way done and you are on the second story.
You sneak down past the aging and obviously seventies wallpaper and decor. The generator, five feet tall by five feet across and by about three feet wide, capped with a yellow plate to cover the inner workings of the generator, sat there with sparks jumping out from the eight cylindrical pistons as you try to get close enough to stop it from spurting out sparks and avoid getting burned. You noticed the pistons were moving slower than you saw last time which was about ten minutes ago. He must’ve damaged it. Damn.
You decided to work on the generator, despite the possible danger that he could be standing still and watching you as your deft hands get in between the gears and pipes to pull debris and jostle the parts into their correct orientations.
After about five minutes, the generator came to life, brightening up the entire house and giving some more power to the exit gate switches. That’s when you heard a dull thud as a shiver ran down your spine. You rushed outside just in time to see red and black spider-like legs rising to the sky, carrying away a victim, who you didn’t know had been hooked. The limp body got taken away by this “Entity” and then that’s when you saw a shimmer in the dark as you looked down from craning your neck.
He’s coming for you.
You panicked. You sprinted away, forgetting about your mediocre stamina. You can feel your lungs burning and your legs becoming sore from crouching and running as you jump over a fence that only reached to your waist. You knew he could track you when you run. You learned that the hard way. You looked to see if the exit gates had enough power - they weren’t ready, yet. There must be another way out.
You start running around the entire neighborhood, frantically trying to find some salvation. You can see broken hooks where the others have gone. The destroyed hooks had fallen from their perch and there was a pool of blood surrounding them. The strange thing was, there were only two broken hooks. That must’ve meant somebody else was still alive! Where were they?
You were about to look for them when you heard the distant sound of a bell breaking the fearful silence. You also hear two men. One of them laughing, you presumably thought it was the killer, and the other man screaming and pleading for his life to be spared.
You sneak around to see the action and see the killer, smiling and chuckling maniacally down at the poor man, who was kneeling with a large gash on his side from being wounded by the killer and a hole in his shoulder. He was already hooked. The killer looked up at the dark, foreboding sky, as if the starless and moonless night was talking to him. A wicked smile then appeared on his face as he started to insanely chuckle. He smacked the man over the head with his morbid club of a man’s spine and skull with three sharp knives tied to the top jaw of this bloody weapon. The man fell to the ground, grunting pain as the new wound started to bleed.
The killer looked over him, and stood above him, and his shrieky and shrill voice rang out through the silence, chilling your spine. It wouldn’t have chilled you to the core if you hadn’t known who this was. He said: “It told me that I can kill you... You’re done, boy!”
The killer started to repeatedly slam the club’s sharp “teeth” into the man’s back, gouging huge chunks out of his back and breaking his spine in several places, earning a cry of pain and then gurgling when he broke a rib, which perforated his lung and heart.
The killer cackled feverishly while doing this heinous act, and then stopped. Your horrified look became one with fear as you saw his head turn toward you slowly. The creature, now that it was underneath a streetlight, was now way more visible than you would have liked. The killer looked just like a regular human, but was wearing dark, bloody blue jeans with bandages from the waist down. He was wearing blood-soaked sneakers, and he had on a grey hoodie. The hoodie had a little shroud on it, which had a white Omega symbol on the hoodie and the shroud. The man also had a grey ribbon going over his eyes, which had a black Omega symbol on that. His hair was brown and matted with blood, and his skin tone was pale. His teeth glinted in the light as he raised his bell, topped with a skull, and smacked it once with his club. He growled lowly and then his pitch rose to a shrill sound as he said: “Now, it is time for me to claim my prize!”
Terrified, and seeing the last survivor die before you, you realized you were now alone. Alone with a terrifying monster. Your (f/c) shirt got torn as the brushes you were hiding in snagged your shirt. You couldn’t feel your feet as you run ever so quickly away across the neatly trimmed grass. You run sporadically in every which way, confused as to where to go. Didn’t one of the survivors say something about seeing a trapdoor? Where? Could it help you escape? You could hear the killer calling behind you, wanting you to come back. It almost sounded pleading, yet with a twinge of insanity. That monster is no human. His humanity had left him long ago.
You speed your way past the houses, hopping over leftover fallen pallets and glassless windows of the houses. You finally heard wind coming from the ground nearby. You turn your head, hoping to see the trapdoor open and ready to receive a survivor. You guide your eyes with your ears, pinpointing the sound of the whooshing of the wind before you hear something behind you. In a blind panic, you race forward, and found your target. The hatch looks inviting and you are so close. You hear the bell behind you. You are so close. You dive for the hatch, getting half way in, head first. Sadly, it was all for naught.
There was a tight grip on your ankle, and you yelp in pain. You feel yourself getting yanked out of the hatch and forced onto the ground. You turn yourself around to meet your killer, face-to-face. You inch closer to the hatch, crawling away from him, but he wasn’t that dumb. He grabbed you by your shirt collar and roughly threw you onto his shoulder. He walked over to the hatch and kicked it closed, and he walked back to a large blue house with a jack-o-lantern on the porch’s white railing. You struggle to break free, but his grip was too tight on the small of your back. You desperately kick his stomach and smash your fists against his back, hoping he’ll let go, but he didn’t so much as budge. He just got closer and closer to the basement.
He finally spoke, his twisted grin never ceasing. His voice sounded shrilly. It was always shrilly. “Awww, you don’t want to have some fun in the sex dungeon? Come on, I know you’ll like it.”
His voice cracked at the end. You weren’t so sure if that was intentional or not. As you feel your strength ceasing from the adrenaline fading, your struggles became less and less prominent and you just laid there on his shoulder. Limp. Unable to move. You can feel his chest rise and fall quickly, like he was chuckling silently to himself. There was a sense of giddiness in his step you didn’t quite understand. You soon understood as he set you against a bed a little harshly, the view of the four sacrificial hooks in the middle of the basement scared you, but what disturbed you even more was a shrine dedicated… To you.
“Why?” was all you could choke out.
The man before you just put his finger on his bearded chin, as if he were actually contemplating your question. He then shrugged and said with a wry smile: “I always wanted you to be mine. Ever since I saw you that day…”
You finally regain your strength and courage enough to demand answers, your voice rising a little. “Why did you side with the entity? Did you get lost and thought that was the easier way out? Why me? Why did you choose me as your stupid obsession? What, did you actually have a crush on me?”
This new anger surged through you and it somewhat surprised your killer. He just chuckled and replied with “so many questions” before pacing the area in front of you. You look down at the bed to get ahold of your surroundings. The bed sheets were pale pink and the mattress was an interesting off-white. There were no headboards or footboards, but poles on each corner of the bed. They each had rope tied to them. Your only thought went to the worst conclusion: He really was going to use this place as a sex dungeon!
You looked for a way to escape, but the stairs leading out of the basement were on the opposite side of the room, and you were in the corner. There was no way you were going to make it, especially with the killer pacing about in the way of the stairs. Maybe you could appease him for a bit, drop down his guard, then make a break for it when he least expected it. It was then that he finally answered all of your questions in order.
“I sided with the entity because it gave a very compelling offer. If I killed for it, I’d get a prize of my choosing, and that was you. I guess I was a little lost, but now… Now, the entity guides me, as well as my obsession with you. I chose you as my obsession because… Before this, I did have a crush on you. After I sided with the entity, it must’ve multiplied my crush for you tenfold, making me a little like that crazy ex-girlfriend found in memes. But I don’t mind it, especially now that I have you. I didn’t think you’d date me anyway, so this was an alternative. Especially when the entity told me you were looking at someone else….” He hissed at you in the end of his reply. He really wasn’t happy.
Hearing this, you felt sad for him. How could he ever think you weren’t going to date him? Or at least have a small crush on him? You did have a crush on him, but now that was ruined, you didn’t know what to do. What was even more confusing was how he thought you were crushing on someone else.
“Crushing on who? I already was crushing on you, so who else did you see?” you decided to ask. You honestly didn’t remember.
The killer grunted and walked over to his little shrine of you. He pulled out a burnt picture of you holding hands with…. An ex of yours. But had you really wanted to go back to that ex? He then replied with “Him… You still loved him…”
Yea, it was going to be impossible to stop loving him, but it wasn’t like you were going to go back to him. You tried to reassure the killer with that piece of logic, but he tipped the picture so that your ex’s side of the picture got burned away, with only you left. He set it back on the shrine, set his bloody weapon and bell down and then he took off the ribbon. He had stunning hazel eyes that shifted from green to blue every now and then. It was him. Ryan.