Portrait Of A Saboteur

by venomvoid

Summary:

The Trapper was having a bit of a problem. A problem of the 5’10 variety. A problem with shaggy hair and beautiful brown eyes… Shut up, his eyes are not beautiful or brown, well they were brown but that isn’t the point. The point was that he was having a definite and very real problem.

Chapter 1: The Trapper Gets Trapped

The Trapper was having a bit of a problem. A problem of the 5’10 variety. A problem with shaggy hair and beautiful brown eyes… Shut up, his eyes are not beautiful or brown, well they were brown but that isn’t the point. The point was that he was having a definite and very real problem. 

 

You see this little shaggy ass rat has been completely defiling his bear traps. His bear traps that he had worked so hard and meticulously on. His pride and joys. His little babies. They were completely broken apart and missing pieces, metal bent and all. Seriously, does this musky motherfucker know how difficult it is to find the metal in this wasteland? Very hard.

 

The amount of times he had to go all the way to that automobile graveyard to scavenge for scraps. He wasn’t fond of going there, it had a weird smell. Gasoline mixed with rotting flesh. Not a very fun combination. 

 

At this current moment The Trapper, also known as Evan MacMillan, son of Archie MacMillan, was hauling back the random chunks of scrap metal he was borrowing from some of the out of commission automobiles. Was he borrowing them? No. However, he told himself that he was because he felt a tad bit bad about stealing from Phillip. Yes, the guy had told him that he didn’t give a damn that he scavenged there, everyone else did. It didn’t change the fact that he still felt bad about it, although that also didn’t change the fact that that didn’t stop him from doing it. 

 

Whatever, it wasn’t that deep. Right now he just had to take a hike through the wilderness in between their designated zones. He tried not to pay much attention when he was out here, the woods and whatever creatures The Entity put there were uncanny to say the least. If he looked too hard he would notice it looking back. So he just stared forward at the path in front of him, eyes glossed over in a dissociated thought. 

 

The unfortunate thing about him drifting off into his own world of thoughts to escape reality was that it worked so well that he did not see the inconspicuous pile of leaves covering the rusted jaws of a bear trap that loomed only a few strides ahead of him. 

 

One… Two… Three… Four… And-

 

CLAMP

 

Five!

 

The sharp, rigid jaws of the bear trap clamped down on the 6 '4 man’s ankle, the sheer shock of the very sudden pain sent him falling straight on his fat ass.

 

“Fuckin’ shit mother of god you son of a gun eating whore!!” Evan expelled out of anger mixed with sheer shock. 

 

He had stepped in bear traps of his own before, but this wasn’t his. Not to mention he wasn’t in hunter mode, he was quite literally just taking a nice stroll through the woods. This trap hurt way more than anything Evan had made. The man grunted and groaned as he pulled the jaws of the trap apart to release his ankle. The teeth were much more thin and jagged than the ones he made. Was this some joke from The Entity? Maybe a sign that he hasn’t been performing as well as he should in the trials? 

 

Blood gushed out of the wounds the trap had inflicted on him. The springs on this thing were as tight as shit, but after a few more tries Evan was able to get his foot out. The disgruntled man examined the trap, ignoring the pooling blood from his ankle. 

 

Hey wait a minute he could recognize the craftsmanship of those metal hinges anywhere, they were his! Specifically the ones that were missing from his last trap that was destroyed by that shaggy haired, brown eyed, fat assed son of a bitch! 

 

He looked back down at where the trap was originally placed and lo and behold there was a note covered in dirt. He sighed, he had a feeling that reading this was only going to piss him off but he did anyway. 

 

In handwriting that was hardly legible the note read… 

 

Dear Trapper,

Get fucked. Hope this one stings. <3 - Jake

 

He was right, it did piss him off. Beyond belief actually. He sat there and stared at the note for a hot minute before crumpling it up and throwing it deep into the forest. That fucker was gonna pay for this.

 

Evan looked at his ankle, it had already stopped bleeding, magical Entity bullshit or whatever made it so injuries were not usually permanent. He stood up and made his way back to his dingy estate, making sure that he brought his frankenstein bear trap with him. He had to take some notes.

Chapter 2: Home Sweet Home

The estate wasn’t much of an estate considering the fact that the actual center of it all, the mansion, was nowhere in sight. The Entity must have forgotten to put it there whenever she made this place. Evan didn’t mind though, that place would only be a reminder if it were placed here. A reminder of his old life, his childhood, his trauma. He was enraged when he saw that it wasn’t there but everything else was. It felt like a cruel joke, but now it feels like a blessing.

 

He had to make a home now, which was difficult to do, but he figured it out. He found a lot of random things in the others areas. The other ones like him. The ones forced to play in Her game. To sacrifice the little shits for Her own pleasure. It was fucked up. He knew the whole situation of being here was fucked up. The trials were fucked up. But he couldn’t complain, the trials were in his favor. He wasn’t the one being mutilated by some bloodthirsty psycho. He felt bad for the ones they were forced to endlessly murder. He also felt bad for the excitement that coursed through his body during a trial. It felt good to kill, and he absolutely hated it.

 

Enough of this stupid meaningless tangent. He had no time to think about his deepest darkest feelings. The point was that he had to, not so surprisingly, scavenge around to put together something that felt vaguely like a home. The Storehouse was his best option. There was a hidden area that the survivors didn’t know about, an attic.

 

Evan made especially sure that there was no obvious way up there. He had put the lever to the latch for the ladder behind the shelving up quite high that even he had to reach up on his tippy toes to get it. Let’s just say that he really really did not like having his privacy intruded upon. He had bad memories attached to that.

 

Once up in his safe haven, he threw the worn duffel bag full of scrap metal on his wooden work table. First order of business was to take apart the trap that the rat had created. Why was this asshole so good at making them anyway. Evan didn’t want to admit it but this whole ordeal was damaging his very fragile ego. He was supposed to strike fear into the survivors, not be the butt of some joke. 

 

As far as he knew he did strike fear into them. All but him. Why? What did he have to do to make this guy afraid of him? Rip him limb from limb? No he didn’t want to do that, too cruel. Too cruel? He was a killer! What do you mean “too cruel”?? The whole point of his job was to be as cruel as possible. This was a fact! He knew this but he still did not want to hurt him. Not like that. He didn’t want to think too hard on the specifics of why. He didn’t want to have those thoughts.

 

So he did what he did best, he hid those thoughts away and put that energy somewhere else. He delicately took apart the trap and examined every nook and cranny of it. The craftsmanship was to be admired, this guy definitely knew what he was doing. If a survivor had fallen victim to this trap, it definitely would have taken their foot clean off. It was hard for him to believe that a survivor was behind the creation of this. This trap, this was, in fact, very cruel. If he didn’t know any better he would have thought there was another killer trying to take his thunder.

 

Evan had to get back at him. The only idea he had at this given moment in time was to change his traps. He had to make them worse. He emptied the duffel bag onto the worktable and began tinkering his next of creations. 

 

After a long while he had finished. Eight brand new and improved bear traps laid before him. Sharper jaws and tighter inescapable hinges. If a survivor had gotten stuck in one of these, their only way of escape would have to be to tear their own foot right off. Not to mention that the plates were much more sensitive now. The slightest touch would be enough to trigger it. Disarming these traps would be much of a doozy for them now. Especially for the ass rat known as Jake Park.

Notes:

This chapter is very short unfortunately but expect another chapter very soon!! <3