Chapter Text
Lore
I didn‘t know how long it had been since I landed in this hell. A hell where death was no escape and suffering was a part of everyday life.
In this world there was no God, only the devil and this devil was called Entity. I didn‘t know if it was female, male or without gender, but one thing was certain: it was a monster. The world here was divided into two groups, Killers and Survivors. And everything took place in different realms. In these realms we played games that everyone of us was already used to.
"Lore, watch out!"
I was repairing a generator when it blew up right into my face. Machine dust blew towards me, causing me to stumble back a few feet. Crap, I hated when that happened.
Claudette stood next to me, unimpressed. "What's wrong with you today? Do you want us to die so badly?"
No, I definitely didn't want that. While I had only been here for 30 trials, which was as much as three weeks, I knew there was one thing I definitely did not want: Die.
Claudette pulled me along without another word so that the killer wouldn't take notice of us. "Have you seen the killer yet?", I wanted to know.
"Not yet, but Dwight said it was a new one."
Surprised I raised an eyebrow. "A new one?"
"Supposedly, but I'm sure we'll find out."
We arrived at another generator, which this time Claudette fixed so I couldn't screw up again. Meanwhile, I was on the lookout for the killer. According to Kate, every survivor came to the Entity with a killer. My killer, however, I had never seen. I could guess who I had come here with, though.
Ghostface.
It was his fault that I was here now. In this never-ending hell. I couldn't remember much, but I could remember him clearly. He had been my stalker. Because of him, I had lived in fear for two months until that bastard had finally decided to put an end to it. And that's what he'd done, when he'd broken into my house one night and plunged a knife into my chest. After that, all I knew was that I had woken up by the campfire and so my new life had begun. He had taken everything from me.
My job.
My family.
My life.
There was no way out of here. According to the Survivors. I just wasn't going to accept never seeing my family again. So I hoped that there was a way out. But so far, that hope seemed in vain.
"Done!" Claudette exclaimed as she finally repaired the last generator and the gates opened for us. Now we had to get out of here in a hurry. We ran towards the gate, the brief freedom that awaited us before everything started all over again. We were just about to reach our destination, when I suddenly saw him and stood stock-still. His long, black robe blew in the cold wind. His mask looked threatening and it was as if my past was catching up with me.
Ghostface stood a few feet away from me, his large knife in his hand.
"What the hell are you doing?" yelled Claudette at me when she saw me stop. "Run!"
And run I did. Towards Ghostface. He stopped, did not move from the spot because he apparently did not know what he could now expect from me. He could expect hell, because the rage in me rose more and more, clouded my head. I just wanted to kill this asshole!
"Hey, sweetie," he chirped, but got no further. Because a force came over me like I had never experienced before. Hate and anger flowed through my body as I easily picked up one of the pallets and threw it at Ghostface. He didn't expect it at all when the pallet hit him in the stomach and sent him backwards, landing on his butt. He looked up at me, puzzled. Yeah, I didn't know what had gotten into me either, but I just couldn't help myself. This guy had destroyed my life and I would show him so.
"You!" Angrily, I pointed at him. "It's all your fault!"
Appeasingly he raised his hands. "That's no reason to throw a pallet at me." His voice sounded amused, which only made me angrier.
"I should kill you for that! You ruined my life!"
Ghostface rose again and looked down at me. Why did this guy have to be so tall? This was so unfair. "Aren't you cute when you're angry?" he teased, giving me the final push.
I closed the gap between us and slapped his chest hard, "You fucking asshole."
He laughed. "You're a feisty one, huh?"
Suddenly he grabbed me by the neck and threw me to the ground. My back hit the hard earth, and by then he was on top of me, pinning me underneath him, his knife pressed against my neck. "I liked it better when you were lying on the bed getting it on with your vibrator," he purred, heat rising to my face. That son of a bitch. One of his favorite things had been to take pictures of me and then put them in my mailbox. Every day I was greeted with new photos. Me being at work, going home, meeting my friends, and even some at my own house. The last photos he had sent me before we came here, were ones of me masturbating. It was humiliating to know that this guy had seen me in such a private moment.
"You're a disgusting, perverted pig!", I snapped at him, trying to squirm under him, but he was too strong for me. He held my wrists with one of his hands above me, with his other hand he pressed the knife against my throat.
"Don't worry, it was hot," he chuckled. "I've jerked off to it at least five times already."
Disgusting.
"Why?", I wanted to know. "Why me?"
"I have a thing for blondes with hot tits and a big ass," he said, as I suddenly felt something hard press against my thigh.
Did he have a boner?
He rubbed himself against me to confirm my suspicions. "Look what you're doing to me. How would you like it, if I fucked you right here on the spot?" Was there anything worse than death? Yes, being raped by Ghostface. That would break me completely and also take away my last dignity.
Tears welled up in my eyes. "I hate you."
"We'll change that," he promised me. "Just wait, someday you'll beg me to fuck that sweet little pussy of yours."
I wanted to throw up right then. "I'd rather die a million deaths than ever be touched by you."
"Don't worry, you'll get both," he laughed. "But now I have to go. It was nice talking to you."
And then he raised his knife and jammed it into my chest. Once, twice, three times. I cried out, could feel the unbearable pain in my whole body. He would kill me like this, today I was not even granted to be sacrificed. I felt how much it pleased him to see me like this. I would have loved to fight back, but I felt myself getting dizzy. I was about to pass out when this psycho pulled out his camera.
"Now for a quick souvenir photo," he enthusiastically groaned. The flash went off and he eyed his camera. "There's something missing." Suddenly he grabbed my blouse and with a tug, he ripped out all the buttons. My upper body was revealed. Unfortunately, I had no bra on, whereupon he could see everything, of course. I wanted to fight, but I had no strength left in me. I had no choice but to let Ghostface do what he wanted with me. At no moment did I want to die as much as I did now.
With his hand, he smeared my blood on my breasts. "And you wonder why I chose you," he chuckled, pinching one of my nipples. "Haven't seen anyone with such hot tits as you."
I wondered how much more he wanted to humiliate me. Where was the sweet death I so longed for?
He then took another picture of me. "That's good jerk-off material." I didn't want to imagine this guy masturbating to my bloody, violated body. That disgusting bastard!
"See you around, sweetie," Ghostface said, before jamming the knife in my throat, and I was finally overcome by the darkness that was my savior for the first time today.