Chapter Text
The generator roared to life. Laurie had fixed it in record time; Claudette found a toolbox from the fog and helped her. They were already creeping towards the foundry, looking for the next generator. The place always made Laurie feel little uneasy; the building blocked the line of sight to every direction. Ironworks was a paranoia inducing place, and just as she finished the thought—
“Can you feel that? I’m getting chills,” Claudette whispered to her.
“Someone is looking at us.”
They had a plan for situations like this; they both bolted, but in different directions. Laurie kept going towards the building. The killer would have to follow one of them; maybe even instinctively run after one and expose themselves in the process. Laurie rounded a corner, ran past the pipes and then up the stairs.
Maybe I’ll see them from up here. When Laurie glanced behind her, she saw him in the bottom of the stairs. It wasn’t Michael. It was the slender man in a ghost mask. The strange puff of black mist swirled around him; her heart started pounding in her ears. Quick on his feet, the Ghost was already making predatory strides up the stairs. Laurie turned to run. Maybe she could distract him for a while, give the others time to fix generators.
The metal structure creaked in a worrying manner. The flimsy bridge across the hall was swaying left and right under their added weight and stomping. They were both silent; completely focused on the chase. Laurie jumped through the open window, she heard him swing and miss. Laurie flew past the control room and started to run down the rusty metal stairs, but to her horror it had rained earlier. The stairs were wet and she lost her footing, sliding and falling at the same time. Her leg went under the railing, and her stomach dropped like an elevator. She had an unpleasant mental image of freefalling to her death.
Laurie managed to stop the slide in time and didn’t dive off the stairs. She got up, but it was too late – she saw a glimpse of the white mask. She quickly stepped to the side, and the large hunting knife collided with the railing, making a loud clang.
Ghost Face brought his arm back in a wide arc; she had to hurriedly try to evade his elbow. Laurie did, but then she tripped and started to stumble. Instinctively her hand shot out and tried to find something, anything to grab hold of… unlucky for Ghost Face it was one of his coat straps.
He let out a huff of surprise; fumbled, dropped his knife – it rattled on the metal below. For a second she thought the Ghost had it, but then he lost his footing as well and over the railing they went. Somehow she managed to twist in a way that she fell on top of him. (This wouldn’t be the first time a lunatic in a white mask chases her off a roof) The killer cushioned the blow a bit, but Laurie still got the wind knocked out of her. She heard his head smack on the ground with a sickening wet thud.
Laurie couldn’t get up; she could not breathe. She would have really panicked if this hadn’t happened to her before. If she kept trying to breathe steady, eventually her lungs would refill. Still her heart kept pounding in loud, panicky thumps. Seconds feel like minutes when you're scared.
A generator dinged happily somewhere in the distance. She was still laying on Ghost Face. Was he even alive? She didn’t know how the horror dimension affected the killers. Laurie took another wheezing breath. Her ribs ached.
The weather was cold and misty; Ghost Face felt feverishly warm under her. She was pretty sure he wasn’t breathing. Would they win the match by default now? Laurie pushed herself up, and immediately her head started swimming. She stilled, and tried to keep her shallow breathing steady; drawing more air in with every try. The darkness tried to creep in from her peripheral vision.
It’s just the lack of air making you anxious, relax. It didn’t feel like anything had broken. Laurie was sitting on the killer now; she should really try to get a move on. Although trying, and fainting immediately after might be a worse idea. And now she of course had the added benefit of knowing exactly where the stealth killer was. Ghost Face had the unfortunate ability to sneak up on you.
Laurie glanced around for the knife; it was nowhere to be seen. When she looked up, she saw it was stuck on the metal grate and still up the stairs. Did he have another one with him? Ghost Face reminded her of an unhinged boy scout with the way he dressed, and the meticulous (obsessive) behavior that bordered on paranoia.
Laurie looked at him. Still nothing. She shouldn’t feel bad for him, and she doesn’t – it’s just unsettling not knowing if she killed him by accident or not. Michael always came back to life and she had no reason not to expect the same from this weirdo. Laurie patted him over, and then… I fucking knew it. He had another knife hidden away in a holder against his left thigh.
This was the part where she should have left. But something kept her there. In a few years time Laurie would end up thinking about this moment often, (about how she had already tensed up to leave) about how the smallest decisions can have huge consequences. Laurie didn’t exactly believe in fate, but something strange happened in MacMillan and she wasn’t sure if it was only her morbid curiosity that guided her hand.
Ghost Face was out cold.
Now is your chance. How likely was it to ever get another? Laurie held the knife in her right hand, and with her left she took hold of the mask and pulled.
She was surprised. The effect wasn’t the same as it was with Michael. The Boogieman looked just as scary without the mask. Laurie shuddered just from thinking about it. Maybe Michael looked even scarier without his, with the empty, cold eyes of a shark. He was a walking haunted house. Not this man though.
Ghost Face made a faint rasping sound; she could see blood spattered around his mouth. He was breathing out bloody mist with some difficulty, rattling in a sickening way. Maybe I shouldn’t sit on his chest.
“Maybe he shouldn’t stab and hook us,” she muttered out loud, annoyed with her flicker of pity.
It was strange how normal he looked. The Ghost could pass as a survivor, easy. Maybe that was why it was so easy to gaslight herself about it… the feeling was unsettling, especially since he had been running after her with a hunting knife just a few minutes ago.
It wasn’t a handsome face, at least in the traditional sense; he was too pale, had dark shadows under his eyes and he looked overall ragged… but it was a nice face all the same. Even with the scars running here and there, and the slight stubble. Laurie had expected… well, a monster really. Not something this normal looking.
He’s had better days. Still, compared to other killers he really did look—
He coughed. It was a wet, gurgling sound.
Laurie held the knife to his throat instantly. Nothing happened. She waited. Ghost Face (normal face) continued to quietly struggle for breath.
Fine, it’s not like anyone is here to see this. Laurie shifted down a little, suffocating someone who was already hurt was something a killer would do, and she wasn’t one. Another generator dinged in the mist, somewhere to her left.
She was effectively distracting him; by holding him hostage. Laurie got an idea. She started to saw one of the black leather straps he had floating from him. Now they were just that – leather straps, lying dead on the ground. They weren’t swaying in unnatural ways around him, and Laurie didn’t know it the gravity defying coat meant anything in the first place.
“I know you aren't dead, so don’t even bother to pretend,” she muttered.
She would tie his hands together. Then she could escape easily, even if the killer wakes up and decides to take his chances against her. Laurie had the knife yes, but she didn’t want to struggle over it with a man who was (a murderer) larger than her. Laurie hoped she wouldn’t have to stab him. “I’m going to stab you if you start moving, you hear?”
Ghost Face groaned. Laurie couldn't tell if it was coincidence or if he was trying to communicate. She wasn't turning her back on him for a second; that was a rookie mistake to make with killers. She learned it very early on with Michael.
Eyes on him, all the time. She didn’t want to pull his hands over his head, she was pretty sure he had broken his ribs. After some consideration she just tied him to himself; wrists together, and arms to his torso. Ghost Face couldn’t reach for anything without her noticing with his hands on his chest. Laurie was so focused on his chest area that she flinched and almost screamed when she heard his hoarse, raspy voice.
“This is nice. I haven’t been date raped before.”
His eyes were so dark brown they seemed black.
“And at knifepoint too, now that’s classy.” He lifted an eyebrow at her. When he smiled, a dimple appeared on his cheek. The smile was predatory; it didn’t reach his eyes.
He’s trying to distract you by being nasty. And it almost worked, that was the most annoying part; she had instinctively leaned further away from him. Laurie was irked. She was acting like this was the first killer she’d met. She leaned back over him; made sure he got a really good look at the knife. So he realizes it’s his knife. That should deter him from wiggling.
“Haa haa,” she said coldly. “You aren’t that pretty.”
His dark eyes flashed. “So you think I’m pretty? Just not… that pretty?”
Ghost Face tried to sound smooth; scratchy was the best he could manage. He had chipped his tooth. A triangle shaped part was missing, making it uneven and sharp.
Laurie shot him an completely unimpressed look. “I think I’ll control myself, thank you very much.”
She wasn’t interested in this line of talk, and had been taken by surprise – appearance didn’t have anything to do with it. Laurie wanted to annoy him right back… and that may not have been smart. No more mistakes, she decided solemnly.
Ghost Face realized slimy implications didn’t work, and he switched tactics. The look he was giving her was cold and calculative and it was unnerving how fast the smile disappeared… but the creepiest part was his voice – it changed completely.
He took odd, dramatic pauses when he talked, but with the unnerving stare it was somehow menacing instead of ridiculous.
“Maybe I think you... are… that... pretty,“ the Ghost drawled. His voice was turning into a growl. “How often do I get pulled from staircases, you wonder? Am I going to find you, specifically, next time, maybe get you all by your lonesome, and then—“
“You know what, shut up.” She pressed the knife to his throat.
Ghost Face had a bizarre way of talking; his voice went up and down in strange patterns. Slow, sweet and drawling, and then almost rapid fire spitting all kinds of threats like some snake. And the complete 180 from the chatty and flirty to death threatening was… freaky. Laurie had never heard someone talk like that – it was like two different people.
Ghost Face looked pissed. And on that note, that is absolutely not his name.
“What’s your name?”
The killer just stared at her. His eyes were boring into hers. ‘If looks could kill’ came to mind.
Laurie pressed the knife closer to him.
“I asked you a question.”
“I thought you told me to shut up,” he practically crooned at her. He was smiling again.
Oh my god with this little shit. Maybe she could cut him just a little.
“…Jed,” he eventually offered.
“You don’t look like a Jed. What the fuck kind of name even is that?”
“Are you calling me a liar?” the scary voice made an instant comeback. The way he blanked his face, eyes burning whenever he used it was creepy as shit. It was like day and night; why he was showcasing this to her was a complete mystery. Is he trying to freak her out, gain the upper hand with that? His reaction was so defensive and weird that she actually started to suspect that ‘Jed’ was a fake name.
“I know you’re a psycho, the stabbing and the knife gave it away, you see.”
Laurie nicked his skin a little. Careful. She didn’t want to press too deep and actually hurt him, but she really needed to seem more self-assured than she actually was. She didn’t want him getting any wild ideas. Creepy or not, Ghost Face actually talked, and she was about to take full advantage of that.
“… So you don’t need to keep convincing me. Pick a lane, creepy or friendly, but answer the question.”
She could practically hear the cogs turning in his head. This wasn’t how the killer was expecting this to go; he was considering something. His dark eyes never left hers. It was like he was trying to see into her head or something. Maybe that’s why the killers wear masks – easier to keep a poker face. He licked the blood from his bottom lip.
“Danny.”
Maybe it was true, maybe it wasn’t. But since he was humoring her now, this was a great chance to try to get some actually important information.
“Where were you abducted from?”
Surprise flitted across his face. The Ghost had expected something else.
The survivors had tried to map out the area the Entity had reach in for the longest time. This information could be valuable. Meg had managed to sweet talk something from the Trapper, enough to know that the Entity abducted the killers as well, but they still knew next to nothing about any of them. Most refused to talk at all, or couldn’t. The survivors kept waiting for vulnerable moments to take advantage from; no one had ever trapped the Ghost before.
“…Florida,” he croaked eventually.
Of fucking course. She heard herself laugh; it had a hysterical note to it she didn’t like.
“Is something funny?” he said in a smooth, menacing way.
It was a good try, she had to admit. Too bad she had the knife, and Ghost Face was the one laying flat on his back. He would have to do better than the psycho voice to scare her now.
“Fucking Florida Man™? Really?” Laurie said in a disbelieving tone. You can’t make this shit up.
Ghost Face looked confused. Had… no one explained that joke to him? Laurie could already see the fake smile plaster over the murderous annoyance.
“You got some Florida fetish? I can help you with that,” his voice came out huskier than ever. Ghost Face actually winked at her. The effect might have worked a little better had he not been coughing up blood earlier. With his hair matted and face bloody he just looked unhinged.
Laurie decided to ignore his comments completely. The killer would keep saying gross things if she acknowledged them.
“We are trying to figure out how the Entity works. To get away from this hellhole, and you.”
Another generator popped to life.
His head jerked towards it; the knife made another small cut on his throat. Fucking hell. She willed her face to stay stern; let him believe she is that skilled... instead of this being complete fluke. He almost cut his own throat just then. Ghost Face froze immediately, so her bluff probably worked. His eyes slid to her direction.
“How many are left?”
The Ghost looked panicked; his voice wasn’t smooth anymore.
Laurie decided she wouldn’t tell him. Or should she lie about it? Ghost Face was a sore loser or a total control freak to care this much.
The killer let out a ragged breath. He seemed to deflate right in front of her eyes. “No need to lie to me; I can see it on your face.”
He looked haunted. Laurie told herself she didn’t care.
“As nice as this was, you should cut the foreplay and then my throat,” he rasped.
What? Laurie was shocked – she didn’t manage to feign back her stern, cold expression in time.
Ghost Face scoffed. “Oh, don’t act surprised,” he practically spat at her. It was the scratchy, mean voice speaking again.
Time was running out. She knew they were working together now; Ghost Face had been preoccupied for so long there was no chance the rest of her team hadn’t found each other. He knew it too.
She tried to sound neutral, but couldn’t quite keep the tremor from her voice. “I’m not acting.”
He looked like he didn’t believe her.
“Do it.”
“Why?”
“I’ve killed your friends, do it,” he practically growled at her.
Just what was he doing? How could this benefit him in any way? His hands were still right where she could see them – what kind of trick was this?
Ghost Face switched again. The dimple and the fake smile were back with a vengeance; more manic than ever.
“I told you what you wanted to know, didn’t I? We’re sort of friends, sitting here, chatting, yes?”
Friends? Do friends hold each other at knifepoint? Why would a friend slit another friend’s throat? Oh no, was he insane after all? He looked and talked normal enough to fool her… nothing normal about any of this now.
The last generator dinged happily.
He closed his eyes.
“Please.”
“What the fuck is this?“
He didn’t look smooth, or creepy; this was something else entirely. A third Danny. He looked… scared out of his mind.
“She’s going to hurt me,” he croaked. He was staring at her wide-eyed and pale.
Fuck. She had pushed Ghost Face into some kind of psychotic break. There was genuine fear in his eyes and Laurie felt guilty about it, killer or not. Maybe she went overboard with her attempts at stern, she was too used to dealing with Michael.
“I’m not going to hurt you... look, I’m sorry about this… I’m letting you go now.” Laurie started to get up. Suddenly she wanted to be far away from him.
“Wait! Don’t go!”
Laurie stopped. He sounded so desperate; it was fucking with her head. Should she throw the knife away? Someone opened the exit gates immediately after. The bell tolled for the first time, and she could see the red embers. The world around them was already disintegrating. Ghost Face sat up and almost doubled over coughing. Laurie cringed at the wet sound; she could see the blood splatter.
“A rib is not enough, I can’t do it to myself and I have tried, believe me.”
Laurie took another hesitant step back. “Look, I can see you are upset but I have no idea what you’re talking about—“
“I failed completely. You can’t begin to understand what this means for me, I would much rather be hooked or stabbed. Please.”
It dawned on her – Ghost Face is being completely serious. But why would he try to manipulate her to do something like that in the first place? The game was already over. It didn’t make any sense, why on earth would she kill him? That’s not how the game is played. Laurie was staring off into some unseen horizon, couldn’t figure it out or come to a decision. The world around them kept on getting darker, burning up and away.
“Laurie!”
That snapped her out of it. How did he know her name? Stalker, her brain shrieked immediately.
The Ghost Danny (?) was giving her a pleading look. Waiting. Laurie was officially freaking out; she couldn’t handle this, whatever this was. She threw the knife in his general direction and turned to run.
“No! Wait – please!”
He sounded horrible; no one could fake that kind of tone. Laurie wished she could convince herself that this was just more mindgames. She had to block her ears while running; she had the mad urge to go back. Just… what the fuck was happening and how had everything gotten so out of hand so fast?
David was still hanging by the exit gate, waving at her. “Good, we had no idea where the hell you disappeared to.”
“Something...” she shook her head. “Never mind.”
It felt way too personal. For some reason she wanted to… protect his privacy? Nonsense or not, she felt really guilty about pushing him into a psychotic meltdown. Laurie had thought Ghost Face was made from tougher stuff to be honest. Especially since he seemed to stab and kill people no problem, played weird mindgames and terrorized every other person out here. Note to self – don’t hold Ghost Face at knife point.
Later, when the survivors were gathered around the camp fire, Laurie went through the entire episode again. She tried to pick it apart, but couldn’t remember being this confused in years.
(Don’t act surprised)
Laurie was surprised. She still had no idea what the Ghost had been raving about. Did he get a concussion when they fell? It seemed totally plausible; Danny did smack his head pretty hard. Was he alright now? Laurie was left a bit traumatized from the encounter. The man was very difficult to read. There was the sweet-talking Ghost Face, the scary I’m-going-to-kill-you voice, and apparently the ‘completely insane’ Ghost Face. The insane one scared her the most. The despair had felt... too genuine. He had really begged her to kill him. It was nothing like the other two – she could name those fake and faker.
What happened to the killers after the games ended? They never saw it; they just walked into the fog. Did the little fake world the Entity had created disappear completely? Where did the killer go then? The survivors had tried to figure out why the killers do what they do. Speculate about why all of this was happening. The survivors had assumed they were here because they liked killing – that’s what the killers did before, and that’s what they were doing here now. They could just say no.
His voice kept haunting her. He had to be alright now, right? Whenever they pseudo-died or got hurt, the Entity always patched the survivors up… major wounds disappeared when they walked into the fog, or they woke from the dead to find themselves around the campfire all fixed up.
Surely the Entity could fix his broken brain, and he’s not off somewhere, dark and delusional? Laurie felt more guilt over this than the time she stabbed Michael in the eye. Or any other time she stabbed him. The Boogieman never complained; she was in the right hurting him, and they seemed to both agree on that. Not like Da— no.
I am not going to be on first name basis with any other killer. Ghost Face had shown real fear, Michael was absolutely fearless. That was the difference. That was the only reason she felt guilt.
Another trial was starting. Laurie should focus on the problem at hand, not on the mental wellbeing of some lunatic killer.