Chapter Text
“Uh, this doesn’t feel very stealthy,” you said as you crouched and stretched in the black leather catsuit Ghostface had procured for you. This private fashion show was taking place in the bedroom of his home, in front of the clean, intact mirror that you’d seen in the realm. “I can hear the leather squeaking.”
“No fabric is completely silent, babe,” Ghostface said. Even while masked, you could tell he was staring at your ass as you crouched down as much as you could.
“Uh huh, and the corset?” you asked, hands on your hips as you straightened up, chest protruding thanks to the support of the garment in question.
“Protection. The steel boning will protect against knives if we do get caught.”
“Oh, is that the reason?” you smiled at him in the mirror. You had to admit, you looked good. Like an expensive dominatrix. All you were missing were some high-heeled patent leather boots and then you’d be Michelle Pheiffer’s Catwoman. Instead, you were in much more sensible combat boots, which you personally were thankful for. You could walk in heels without breaking your neck, but running in them was an entirely different matter. You still had no idea how Yun-Jin and Ada Wong managed it.
“Of course. I take my work very seriously. No fooling around,” he said, chin of his mask on your shoulder as his hands trailed over your corseted curves.
“Not even a little bit?”
“Well… I guess I’m technically off the clock,” he said.
You turned to face him; as he moved to pull the mask off, you took the chance to shove him backward. Tripping on the edge of his shroud, he fell flat on the bed, and you leapt atop him.
“That… was cheating,” he said, mask askew but still in place.
“Like you play fair.”
Still, you eased his bruised ego by grinding on him. He was already hard.
“Someone’s eager,” you teased.
“You’ve been a little distant lately. I missed this.”
“Sorry. That movie just… wasn’t what I was expecting,” you admitted.
“Yeah, no one likes a cliffhanger ending. And the rest of the world will never know what happened to you.”
You leaned forward, hiding your face in his hood.
“What if it didn’t have to be that way?” you whispered in his ear.
Ghostface went rigid under you.
“What?” he asked. His tone was balanced yet very weighted. Like he was reading your reaction as much as you were his. You tried to stay that way, but he grabbed you by the back of your neck and dragged your face back into his line of sight.
“I just meant… I’ve heard rumors that people have escaped.”
“That is propaganda by a cult of survivors who are trying to keep people hopeful so they stay alive.”
“But if-”
“If they found a way out, the Entity would close it before anyone could use it. And anyone with knowledge of how to do it would be tossed in the Void.”
“So the info would be in the Void,” you said.
“Are you not listening to me? It’s not happening. It’s impossible.”
“We’re in a hellscape ruled by a blood god. Everything about this place is impossible so why are you acting like it’s not?!”
“Enough!” Ghostface pushed you off his lap, pinning you to the bed by your throat, knife out and raised over his head. “I don’t know where you got this idea, but you will never escape me! Understood ?”
For about 8 seconds, you thought you were about to die right then and there. But then you noticed something in his voice. Something… deeper. There was the underpinnings of something that wasn’t him.
But if it wasn’t him, then…
You dared to reach out with a hand and remove the mask. There was Danny, face twisted in a terrible scowl, but there was something else.
His eyes were red. Not like a brown that bordered on red, but red and glowing.
“Danny?” you asked.
The thing wearing Danny’s face leaned in closer. “Danny’s not here right now, babe. And if you’d like him back, I’d suggest you mind your manners and remember this discussion you think there’s ever a chance of you escaping me.”
“… Understood.”
“Good girl.”
Not!Danny pressed a kiss to your lips, his mouth tasting not of cigarettes and chewing gum (his usual taste), but of blood and ash. When he pulled back, his eyes slowly faded back to their natural brown and he relaxed his grip on your throat.
You two just laid there, blinking at each other. Eventually, he re-sheathed his knife and rolled onto the bed next to you, staring at the ceiling in unison.
“Does that happen a lot?” you dared to ask after a few minutes of listening to each others’ breathing.
“Not to me.”
Slowly, you dared to snuggle into his side. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have pushed.”
He groaned. “Yeah you shouldn’t have.” Still, he threw an arm around you and brought you in close. “But if you can forgive me for having my boss breathing down our necks, then I can forgive you for pushing this.”
You nodded.
“So uh, about us going stalking together-”
“I cannot believe I’m saying this but I’m actually too tired to stalk. Tomorrow work?”
“Yeah. Can’t guarantee when I’ll be in trial but we usually get a break after three deaths in a row. I’ll come by after that.”
“I guess that means you’ll really be dying to see me.”
You punched him in the shoulder. Not hard, he laughed it off, but it was hard enough to make your annoyance known.
Still, he walked you back to the campfire with no complaints or attempts to draw out your time together with detours or scenic routes.
You dared to press a kill to his mask once more before taking your leave. “See you in the Fog.”
He nodded stiffly.
You left it at that.
It was only upon approaching the campfire that you realized you were still wearing the catsuit. Specifically when Ash Williams and Ace Visconti started whistling in appreciation.
Elodie stared at you wide eyed. “What are you-”
“Don’t ask,” you cut her off, heading for your scavenged sleep mat. You paused when you realized something. “Actually, can you help me get the corset off?”
Thankfully, Elodie helped without question, even putting it in your trunk for you.
You didn’t bother to take off the catsuit, just slipped off your boots and collapsed on your mat. Restful sleep was rare in the Fog, especially with Freddy lurking in everyone’s dreams. But you needed to try. Your body was exhausted, even as your mind fought rest. Was the Entity truly always there, in the back of his mind? Could it really take control from him so easily?
If that was true, then you’d never really be able to include him on escape plans. Assuming he’d want to leave in the first place.
But what other option was there? Stay here and slowly be eaten by the Entity until you ended up in the Void?
You cared for Danny, but even you weren’t suicidal enough to let your soul be consumed for him.
As your eyes drooped, you swore you saw Ghostface’s mask peering out from the Fog.