Aching Bones

by orphan_account

Summary:

Instead of partying outside, the rowdy group of counselors are convinced to have a party inside the lodge.
Somehow, things still manage to go wrong.

'He thinks for a moment; maybe there's a better way to go about this without causing an argument.

He lets his mouth do the work for him instead of thinking it through. He was always one to follow his head, but today he felt a bit different.

(might rewrite but i’m orphaning this so if you see a fic with the same name u know who wrote ts)

"Ehh.." He hesitates, "Ma - Maybe... We could... party inside?"'

--
In other words, Dylan gets lost in the woods for a while; and still; manages to get amputated.

Notes:

• Inspired by take me back and back again by MothWhoCriedWolf
• Inspired by The Curse of Nightmares by DollyGrand

im sorry if im actually awful at writing them i learned how to spell from roleplaying in roblox when i was 8 ok
also the first chapter is just a recount of canon events in dylan's perspective, the next one will actually be related to the divergence part of the fanfic lol

Chapter 1

In his entire time at camp, Dylan had honestly never seen Mr. H get genuinely angry.

Upset, maybe. Annoyed, sure! It was impossible not to get annoyed when you were stuck at a summer camp somewhere in the middle of the woods for two months with a bunch of loud-mouthed children.

But genuinely angry? Hell, Dylan didn't even think it to be possible.

Well, he knew it was possible, of course. He's just a normal guy with normal guy emotions like everyone else here is, but still, how can you expect the happy-go-lucky summer camp leader, whose motto is, 'What doesn't kill you makes you stronger!', to ever get angry?

Especially angry enough to start screaming and slamming the hood of their pitifully sputtering car.

"..Okay. Damnit. You're right, you're right. Yeah," Chris huffs, responding to Jacob's suggestion of staying one more night, which; Dylan didn't think was that bad of an idea; until Chris started angrily pacing and screaming.

Maybe Dylan does want to go home.

"..What?" Ryan questions worriedly, watching as Chris tries to calm himself down from... Whatever that was.

"Yeah, you're right," Chris repeats to Jacob; before turning to Ryan and tossing him the keys on his belt.

Chris walks off, anxiety practically seeping from his stature as he walks, and flickers his eyes back to Ryan, "Hey, Ryan. Come here for a sec." He asks the confused boy, and Ryan quickly follows him to Chris' car.

Dylan watches from afar as Chris gets in; and says something to Ryan very sternly, from what he hears, before he goes tearing off in his car, yelling out to the rest of them before he leaves, "Lock the doors," He pauses, "And for god's sake, keep the noise down!"

That's the last they hear from Chris, as his car quickly gets smaller and smaller into the distance.

He stands there, watching him drive away for a moment, before thinking out loud, "So... What was that about?" He asks no one in particular.

Ryan still answers, to Dylan's gratitude. "He, uh... said to stay inside." Dylan turns to him as he speaks, "That we're not leaving until the morning.."

"Are... you kidding me?" Emma says in both disbelief and irritation.

Before anyone else can speak up, Jacob is already on it, "Emmm.." He drags out his words, dancing in place excitedly as he grins at her.

This only seems to visibly irritate Emma even more, as she lets out an even louder, "Are you kidding me!?" She surveys them, "What are we supposed to do?" She asks.

Dylan can't help but wonder a bit of the same until he gets an idea.

Dylan had nothing to go home to but a messy apartment and his cat(who he loves very much, but that is not the point). He was head-over-heels in love with Ryan, like, long-term in love. Now was his moment to make a move-

"Well, we should go inside. Like he said." Ryan answers before Dylan can explain his award-winning idea, but it's okay, Dylan can work off of this. His chances are not getting ruined... he thought for the thousandth time.

Except for this time, he won't chicken out... Okay, maybe- No, no he's got this...

"We could go inside... Until morning.." He says, pausing, trying to build up suspense for what he's going to suggest,

"Yeah-" Ryan agrees, trying to stop him before he gets too far into his explanation, but it's too late for that!

"Or..." He continues, and Ryan gives him an annoyed look, "Or we could do something else." He grins at Ryan lovingly, though Ryan does not see it this way.

"What... are you talking about?" Ryan questions, deciding to not yet smush down his hopes and dreams. He takes it as a win.

"No Mr. Hackett, no screaming kids. Just a bunch of grown-ass adults ready to cut loose and get down with their animal side." Dylan suggests, waiting in anticipation for an answer.

Luckily, Jacob has his back with his immediate grin and a; "Ohh, Hell yeah!" in response. A bit too excitedly, might he add, but who is he to judge the man? None of them but him even 'got some' this summer. He still can't gauge how Jacob has more game than him, but whatever.

He turns to Jacob with newfound confidence, bouncing off of his excitement, "P. A. R. T... Why the fuck not, Alright?" He pauses, "it seems like the stars have aligned for us, no?"

Kaitlyn seems to agree, "Okay, okay, okay..." Getting hyped by the idea. "One last epic bonfire blowout for all time." Dylan continues, looking around to gauge the other's reactions.

"Oh, dude. Fuck yes! I'm in." Jacob exclaims excitedly, before pointing towards a certain Aussie, "Nick, you're in." Jacob states, leaving no argument.

"..Yeah, I'm in." Nick agrees, and Dylan knows it's only for Abi. And the fact that he didn't want to argue with Jacob, but who cares. Dylan supposes he is in the same boat, except without the Jacob part.

"Dylan's in, obviously. My man." Jacob continues; Dylan can only give him a look before he moves on, "Kaitlyn?" He says, pointing expectantly at the short and bossy girl.

Okay, well, rude.

"I go where my people need me," Kaitlyn decides, agreeing. She holds up her hands in a placating shrug.

"Yeeaaa- Okay... Em, what do you say?" Jacob pans over to Emma, continuing his obnoxious charade.

Emma ponders this for a moment, humming a short, "Mmm..." before quickly caving, "Yeah, I'm in." She declares.

But before Jacob can celebrate his newfound chance at getting his game back, Abi interrupts, "Mr. Hackett seemed pretty insistent we stay inside the lodge.." She grins, nervously, so it's more of a grimace.

"He was just trying to freak us out, you know, like, um..." He pauses before gesturing up to Ryan, "Like one of Ryan's stupid ghost stories." He says; very insultingly, and Dylan is prepared to defend the very stupid ghost stories on Ryan's behalf but does not get the chance.

"..Why would he want to scare us?" Abi asks, though more in a rhetorical way than an actual question, as if she couldn't come up with one reason why that would even be true.

Abi stares at them, and no one says anything for a moment before Ryan speaks up,
Ryan responded apprehensively, "I don't think he was trying to freak us out, Jacob. I think he was really freaked out; by something."

Dylan wonders if he should butt in and just agree with Ryan and Abi, but Jacob is already disregarding Ryan's words, "Jesus Christ.." Jacob says in dismissal.

Ryan pursues his point, "Chris seemed real serious about this, guys." And Dylan almost dismisses him too, just so he doesn't lose his last chance(to put it dramatically), but he pauses, looking at Ryan.

He thinks for a moment; maybe there's a better way to go about this without causing an argument.

He lets his mouth do the work for him instead of thinking it through. He was always one to follow his head, but today he felt a bit different.

"Ehh.." He hesitates, "Ma - Maybe... We could... party inside?" He tries suggesting, and Jacob looks at him weirdly, "Dude, it's all good; why should we listen to Ryan, anyways? He just doesn't wanna disappoint 'daddy'." He refers to Chris mockingly, holding up air quotes at 'daddy".

Dylan almost drops his jaw at the words, sometimes he knows Jacob and Ryan often butt heads but this is a bit much. He hesitates to interject, but that gives Ryan just enough time to rebuttal.

Real defensively, might he observe, "Yeah, well, someone's gotta give a shit." He rebukes without much heat. "Aww," Jacob drags out mockingly, and Dylan almost wants to punch him.

"You know what," Ryan starts, and everyone gasps a bit delayed; "I don't even care what you guys do; I'm doing what Chris told me to." Ryan refutes angrily, no longer trying to argue with Jacob when he's being a baby.

"Boooo!" Jacob shouts after him, and Dylan takes a bit too long to say something, mulling over his thoughts; this wasn't supposed to go this way.

"Ryan, come on man, wait-" He begins a bit dejectedly, but maybe Kaitlyn will have his back? She cannot resist Dylan's charm.

"K - Kaitlyn, just tell him we can do it inside," Dylan asks her a bit too desperately; instead of charm, it looks more like begging.

Kaitlyn looks at him, and she sees more of Sad Puppy Dog Dylan than anything remotely charming, but still cannot find it within her to disagree, so after a moment's hesitation, she backs him. "Y...Yeah, let's just do what Chris told us."

Ryan pauses in his leave, staying to hear their shared opinion.

Jacob gapes at her, "Huh?" He says dejectedly, "Come on, what's the point?" Kaitlyn responds with a simple, "Stop being a moron, Jacob. I'm not trying to get axe murdered in the woods; you saw how freaked Mr. H was."

"How can we be so sure-" Jacob begins, but is cut off by Nick putting a hand on his arm, "Dude, just lay off it.." He says, without much of a fight in his soft tone of voice, but it still manages to get Jacob to back down.

Emma looks at the situation and decides she doesn't want to cause more discourse than what is already being caused.
"Yeah, I mean, bonfire's cool and all, but I'd rather be inside and warm." She agrees with Dylan, Nick, and Kaitlyn, and by extension Ryan and Abi, he supposes, so it's settled.

Jacob backs down completely, once and for all, being a good boy and not arguing with his summer-fling. More like; not being able to argue with her, but who cares about differences?

Dylan looks at Ryan, and when he doesn't say anything, he moves closer in anticipation, "Sooo..?" He drawls, crossing his fingers for a change of mind.

Ryan sighs in annoyance, "Agh, fine.." And once again, Dylan's charm wins!

Jacob quickly recovers, ignoring their argument immediately in favor of bossing everyone around. Dylan almost admires his complete ignorance of what was said just moments before.

"Alright, alright, alright, Hacketteers! Party planning committee. Let's do this! Um, okay.." He looks around at them, scanning them over before pointing toward two victims, "First things first! Nick and Abi... You go get the fireplace ready, so like.. firewood."

The cute soon-to-be couple in question look at each other with what could be described as nervousness or excitement, maybe both. Good for them that Jacob was at least a decent wingman.

"Uhh... Emma and I will go to the stores for some supplies." And it's completely expected. The grin and lean Jacob does toward Emma will never cease to make him gag. Being a desperate and sad hetero will never fail to disgust him. He sighs and prays for them both that neither of them does anything dumb.

He thinks ironically, of course, being a desperate and sad homo himself, but at least he's not them.

"And, uh, Dylan, you just... I don't know; figure out how to... charge the phones.. or something..." Jacob points to him unsurely, and Dylan feels disappointed in the lack of faith, so clearly displayed in Jacob's tone.

Jacob looks back to the rest of the counselors, clapping excitedly, "Alright, let's do this!" He exclaims, not even acknowledging Ryan or Kaitlyn, and Dylan feels offended on his behalf.

------------------------------------------

 

Dylan doesn't know what to feel right about now.

Hyped? Nervous? Some other word to explain the pit in his stomach? Dylan doesn't really know.

I mean, can you blame him for not expecting this?

Maybe, but still, Dylan honestly expected Ryan to just hang out inside and wait for everyone to get done with their tasks like Kaitlyn, but here Ryan is, tagging along with him to scavenge through Chris's office.

Well, he guesses it makes sense considering Ryan is the one who knows where everything is. Maybe he just wants to believe Ryan chose to go with him for more romantic reasons...

Ryan breaks his intense train of thought by opening the door leading into Chris's office, and Dylan decides that he needs to say something because it has been way too quiet.

Walking through the threshold of the office, he speaks up, "Alright... the inner sanctum!" He jokes, glancing around the room. He's been in here a couple of times, but not enough to memorize the layout, really.

"It's just an office." Ryan counters; Dylan can't tell if he's playing along or not, so he bites the bullet and continues.
Turning back to Ryan, he gestures around at the office, "This is where the magic happens." He argues jokingly, and Ryan simply huffs in what Dylan hopes is amusement, "Okay, yeah. Let's just make this quick."

Well, that may sound like he's annoyed, but the quick upturn of Ryan's lips told him otherwise.

Dylan bends down near the wall, steadying himself on a small table as he starts plugging in the phones through the chargers already plugged into the outlet.
"Sure. Just gimme a sec to get this going..." He drags out the word until the phones begin their charge; standing up, he looks down at his job well done.
"And... engage." He finishes.

He looks at Ryan's phone screen, seeing a familiar title pop up as the phone turns on.

He turns to Ryan, "Podcasts?" He grins in a questioning manner.
Dylan's listened to his fair share of podcasts before; he's just one of those guys who can't work in complete silence. Maybe he and Ryan can romantically bond through this.

"Yeah," Ryan says simply; his smile is awkward. Though, when is it not? Ryan is an awkward guy, so he doesn't let this discourage him.

"Alright." He thinks of a response for a moment; before deciding to go with something more sociable, "Uh, what's it called? The one that you're listening to right now?"

Ryan looks at him questioningly, like he doesn't understand why he's asking this, but answers anyways, "Uh..? Bizarre Yet Bona Fide." He explains, and Dylan thinks the title already gives away quite a bit of what it's about.

"So like, ghosts and stuff?" He asks, trying to learn more about his mysterious and brooding co-worker.
Ryan seems to appreciate his efforts, "It's like... um, yeah, the weird and the wonderful." Ryan explains, and Dylan can tell he's happy to talk about this topic.

"Digging up weird mysteries and discussing if they're, well, bona fide." Ryan finishes, and before Dylan can think it through, he just says what comes to mind first.
"'Boner' fide. Get it? Boner? Heh." He puts his hands on his hips a bit awkwardly, kind of like a soccer mom.

Ryan stares at him with an unreadable look before he responds, "Your wit knows no bounds." He says, clear sarcasm lacing his tone.
Okay, yeah, that joke was kind of bad.

"...So. Should we check out what Mr. H keeps in his private den of sin?" Dylan tries to change the subject.

Ryan seems hesitant, "Ah... I dunno man; I feel a little weird going through his stuff..." Ryan says, unsure.

Dylan almost lets it go; before he remembers who he is. He'd already been a bit too compliant earlier; he's supposed to be Blase Dylan right now; he's got this.

"Well, I don't," he dismisses, "I mean come on, what kind of dirty secrets does the owner of a summer camp filled with impressionable young children gonna have anyway?" Dylan jokes, and realizes what he's insinuating a bit too late.
Ryan stares at him with what could only be described as irritation.

He chuckles nervously, attempting to backpedal, "Not Mr. H, I know. He's cool." He says, staring at the floor for like the hundredth time today.
"He's always been cool to me." And the conversation ends there.

Dylan doesn't know what to say, so he turns his back and decides, hey, what harm could come from a little snooping?

Stepping toward's Mr. H's desk, he picks up a photo holding three familiar-looking faces. "Kaylee and Caleb Hackett," he thinks aloud, talking to no one in particular.
The two mentioned smile back at him through the framed photo, he doesn't know much about them personally, but he doesn't really know anyone here anyways.

Still, they'd always seemed extensively nervous at all times. Like, more nervous than he and Ryan combined. He sometimes worried about them, but no one else seemed to comment on it, so he assumed they were just anxious.

Dylan still wonders where they went. He remembers them disappearing randomly near the last week of camp, but Chris never explained why. He hopes they're doing alright.

"...Weird kids, huh?" He says, referring to the two, hoping to spark a conversation.
"I like 'em," Ryan responds, and Dylan has to agree.

"Yeah, me too, um..." He pauses, unsure of where he's going with this, "They are pretty reclusive, you have to admit." Dylan remarks curiously.
Ryan does not grace him with a response.

Instead of standing around awkwardly, Dylan moves on to a new point of interest. He walks around the desk, picking up the old landline.
"Woah, look at this old thing..."

He's always been captivated by old technology; he remembers how often he'd sneak out to the radio shack when he was a camper.
He realizes Emma was a bad influence.

"Hey, gimme your number; I wanna try it out." He turns to Ryan, "Why?" Ryan asks, staring at him weirdly.
"Uh, so that I can ask you out on a date? Duh." Dylan responds flirtatiously.

"Mmmm, smooth," Ryan replies with a slight upturn to his mouth.

Well, at least he tried.
It seems every move he makes comes across as a joke, sadly. Or Ryan isn't interested, but that's just his insecurities talking.

"I think if I tried a cell phone number on this thing it would just explode, though." Dylan jokes, trying to regain his dignity.
He grins at Ryan, picking up the receiver and putting it to his ear to emphasize his caricature, ready to continue his joke, but he's stopped by an unexpected whisper.

"Dylan.." He hears a voice breathe into his ear through the phone; in a spike of panic he turns away from Ryan and back to where the landline lies on the desk, looking for some sort of explanation.

Ryan sees this and seems worried, "What? Who is it?" He's asked; Dylan turns back to Ryan more calmly this time, "Uh... Hello?" He asks into the receiver, but the disconnect tone is already ringing in his ears.

What was that? Was he hearing things, or was that actually someone? He didn't even press any buttons, but why else would the phone ring as though someone had hung up?

He nervously responds to Ryan, realizing he's still in the room. It was probably just him hearing things, "..That's weird; I thought I heard someone..." He sets the phone back onto the landline.

Ryan seems to fall for his false relaxation, "Maybe you should've asked them out on a date?" He jokes, and Dylan gratefully plays along,
"Damn it, I missed my shot.." Dylan jokes along with him, looking around the room nervously; before continuing on with his snooping, not wanting to think about that weird experience any further.

But he can't help it; seriously, what the hell was that...?

------------------------------------------

 

"Hey, Kaitlyn, guess what! Mr. H is a voyeuristic creep. He has hidden cameras everywhere and a secret room!"

This is the last thing Kaitlyn expects to hear out of Dylan's mouth; turning around from where she'd previously stared out the window, she looks at the two.

"No, that's not-" Ryan starts, but pauses, which gives Kaitlyn just enough time to butt in.
"Uh- Woah now, back up. What?"

"His eyes are everywhere... He's always watching us." Dylan continues unhelpfully, doing spooky gestures with his hands. Kaitlyn stares, about to reply until Ryan speaks up.

"Knock it off, man. He- He's just got... trail cameras set up. Y'know, forest surveillance. That kind of thing."

Oh.
"Oh," she repeats aloud. That makes more sense.

"You don't think that's weird!?" Dylan pushes in an attempt to back up his narrative.
"Well, he's got a perimeter to check, kids to protect. Yeah, probably just to keep track of wildlife."

"You guys have no imagination.." Dylan complains, and Kaitlyn huffs in annoyance at his childishness.

"So, uh.. what's going on here? Everything ready?" Ryan asks, moving the topic to something more casual.

"Well... Earlier, while you were gone, I saw a weird light in the treehouse across the lake. Pretty spooky, maybe it's your girlfriend, Ryan." Kaitlyn recounts, showing off a picture she took while out there.

Despite the jokes, seeing the light was pretty weird. She doesn't believe anyone should be over there, but she doesn't care as long as it doesn't escalate.
How could it, anyways?

"The Hag of Hackett's Quarry..." Ryan says ominously, just to annoy Kaitlyn.
And it works, "Ugh, I told you never to say Hag of Hackett's Quarry again." She complains.

"What's wrong with saying 'Hag of Hackett's Quarry'?"

There's a pause before Kaitlyn lets out a long groan of irritation.

"Just loses all meaning-" Ryan starts, but Dylan interrupts at the same time.
"All I can hear is... Hacka Hacka Quora.."

Ryan turns to Dylan, a slight upturn to the corner of his lips, "Haga- Haga Hacka Quora."

They must be trying to drive her insane.

Dylan turns to Ryan with an innocent expression to match, "Are you gonna have a Hacka Quora?" Dylan asks in the most genuine tone of voice he can muster.
Ryan lets out a hiss of laughter, "Yes." He grins. It'd be cute if they weren't doing it to torture her.

"Hacka Hack of... Quora!" Dylan repeats once again, and Kaitlyn cannot take it anymore.

"Are you done?" She asks.

"Yea..." Dylan answers quietly.

------------------------------------------

 

It isn't long after Nick and Abi's arrival that a loud-
BANG
-sounds throughout the camp. The sudden noise makes Dylan's head swerve over quickly to where it came from, and he is sourly unsurprised to see Jacob and Emma entering the threshold of the lodge.

"Special delivery~" Emma sing-songs.
Dylan watches from afar as Kaitlyn glares at the two in extreme annoyance at their loud entrance; before realizing what caused it in the first place.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa! Where the hell did that gun come from?!" Kaitlyn interrogates like a discontented mother.
"Uh- dude, relax! Okay, it's not even real!" Jacob testifies, only for Kaitlyn to respond by looking at him like he's stupid.

"Well- I mean, it's a real gun, but it's just for shooting bears." Jacob remedies and Emma backs him up, "We found it in the storage room."

Kaitlyn looks between the two like they're out of their minds, which Dylan agrees with.
"Okay, fine, fine. We'll put it down." Jacob submits to Kaitlyn's intimidating glare.

"Thank you. Guns are no joke, dipshit." Kaitlyn scolds him.

Jacob pays no mind to this, in favor of showing off his haul of goodies. Dylan pays no mind in favor of making his playlist.

"And... AND... we bring you a hand-picked selection of only the finest that Hackett's Quarry has to offer..." Jacob begins dramatically, and Nick walks over and picks up what seems to be a bag of snacks.

"No way..." Nick says in disbelief at the apparently very shocking chip bag.
"Yes, way!" Jacob says, equally as hyped.

Dylan then looks up to see them initiating some weird brand of... mating dance?

"Pop-pop, Peanut Butter Butter Pops!" They start chanting in sync, "Pop, pop, pop 'em in your mouth!"

Dylan wishes he didn't see that.
Well, no, that was actually extremely funny. But the second-hand embarrassment still lingers.

Dylan turns back to his phone as the two continue squabbling over weird and unheard-of snack foods, blocking out their words completely.

He brings his focus to his playlist, should he add some Jack Stauber...? No... This is a party, that'd just make them all depressed.

What music do party people even like? He's been to like... three in his entire life.

Mulling over his choice of music, he's pulled out of his trance by Kaitlyn, Nick, and Jacob all exiting the lodge... with the gun, for some reason.

Whatever, he thinks as he turns back to where he sits; until he catches Ryan out of the corner of his eye. Remembering that he's there, he glances at him, decidedly not wanting to pass a chance to ogle at his mysterious crush.

Dylan sighs internally, knowing nothing will come out of their relationship. Even if he manages to get some tonight, they don't know each other. This is their last chance to even speak before they move on with their respective lives forever and never see each other again.

Besides, he wants more than just a one-time thing, but with how things are going, he doubts he'll get what he wants.

Ryan is too recluse and broody to even think of talking to him past summer, probably. He won't even give him his number!

Dylan is ready to turn away; before he realizes that throughout his spacing out that Ryan had locked his gaze with his own.

Ohh... That's embarrassing. He's been caught staring.

Ryan waves awkwardly from his position where he's sat, clearly uncomfortable with Dylan's intense staring problem.
Dylan's face flares in embarrassment; he can feel warmness rise as red dusts his cheeks.
He's always been easy to make blush, his pale skin easily contrasting with the darker red.

He stares at his phone, trying to ignore the interaction; hopefully, Ryan forgets it as well.
He reads along the lists of songs, not really paying attention as his mind continuously recounts his embarrassment until his attention is caught by something on his screen.

Ooh! Venice Connection! Definitely adding that to his playlist.
You know... forget whatever embarrassment he just felt, this party isn't about his absolutely awful ability at getting guys.

He's happy just to hang out with these guys for one last time until he is forced to go back to his sad little house that isn't really a house and is actually just an apartment.
Y'know, he's sure this'll be a mighty fine party to commemorate this last day of summer.

Chapter 2

Notes:

hey guys, sorry for taking 3 months to update but The Lobotomy went wrong so i was a bit preoccupied.

either way, i am back with 4k words of pure Dylan abuse, hope you like that
it might be a bit fast-paced, but please be nice as i was recently lobotomized!

next chapter will likely be in kaitlyn's perspective. i will try to get it out sooner

This party was an awful way to commemorate his last day of summer.

 

Maybe Dylan was overexaggerating, but he also feels like maybe he has the right to.

 

He was never one to handle rejection well, anyways.

So maybe seeing his crush kiss someone who wasn't him was just too much for him to bear.

 

Dylan stared at his shoes as he walked, he could feel a sharp tingling behind his eyes, his emotions readying to burst.

 

Perhaps walking off into the woods was a stupid idea, though. Now they knew he was angry, jealous. Dylan doesn't know why he did that when he could have just as easily played it off and ignored it.

 

He clenches his fists.

 

He's so mad at himself for allowing himself to be so worked up over someone he's barely talked to until recently; what is he even doing?

 

He sighs, full of emotion.

He just needs to calm down; what's a better way to calm down than to deflect and ignore his problems? That's what he does all the time anyway.

 

Thinking this, he looks up to find something else to focus on, like some cool-colored moss or two fireflies fucking, but he only ends up finding that he is actually completely lost.

 

"Shit," He mutters, a deep pang of panic shooting through his chest, where the hell did he come from? Where was he going in the first place?

 

Goddamnit, this just makes him more upset; deflection has failed him!

 

He takes a deep breath and tries to calm himself down. Maybe he could try to retrace his steps and find his way back to the party. But the more he tries to remember, the more confused he gets. He can feel his frustration mounting.

 

He can't let himself get lost in the woods, especially not in his current emotional state. Actually, in any emotional state, he thinks he'd hate this. He looks around once more, trying to get his bearings.

 

He doesn't recognize any of the trees or rocks around him.

He tries to remember the path he took to get here, but it's all a blur in his mind. The only thing he can remember is walking away from the party and into the woods.

 

He doesn't even remember how long he's been walking.

 

He takes another deep breath and tries to focus. He needs to find his way back to the party or at least to the cabins. He starts walking again, picking a direction at random.

 

He thinks this is exactly how people get murdered in horror movies, glancing around and waiting; for like... Jason Vorhes to jump out. 

Though, realistically, Dylan would never be in a good horror franchise. Probably a poorly made FNAF fangame, if anything.

 

The air is cool and damp, and he can hear the sound of crickets chirping in the distance.

 

As he walks, Dylan starts to feel a little better. His anger and jealousy are still there, but they are no longer consuming his thoughts. He feels more in control of his emotions and thoughts, though he still probably will not think logically.

That is just not something he does, overcome by overwhelming emotions or not.

 

He walks for what feels like forever, but realistically it's probably only been about ten minutes. Dylan sees a clearing up ahead. He quickens his pace, hoping that it's somewhere familiar. 

 

To his rare luckiness, it is. The pool house sits ahead of him, the water glistening in the moonlight, but he walks past it.

 

The cabins and radio shack are around here; only a few more minutes of walking allow Dylan to finally reach the place he's been hoping for.

 

Continuing his pace, he finds himself standing in front of the radio shack. He slows his strut, standing in front of the steps and examining it for a moment.

 

It's just something Dylan does when he's alone sometimes. Staring. Dissociating, others would call it, but he is very consciously examining his surroundings.

 

He lowers his gaze to the stairs, preparing to step up them before he double-takes and glances back up to the window of the shack.

 

Right under it, in the light of the moon, he sees claw marks. He gets closer, walking higher up the steps and leaning into the ruined wood.

 

They're not too deep, but way too deep and too big for something small to have done that, Dylan thinks.

" Spooky,"  Dylan says to himself.

 

He looks around before he settles his eyes back on the claw marks, shrugging and ignoring the pulsing in his stomach that is his paranoia.

 

Probably nothing, for all he knows that had been there for a while and he hadn't paid enough attention to realize.

(Though he subconsciously knows that is likely not the case.)

 

The radio shack is his safe haven, besides when Kaitlyn or Emma or... Anyone, really, burst in randomly. 

At least Nick knocks; sometimes.

 

Besides that, Dylan loves the quiet it brings when it's night; or he's just alone here in general, the only sound being the loud chirping of birds during the day or the rustling of trees in the wind during the night.

 

It's also very easy to bullshit on the radio, believe it or not. Despite him usually waking up early anyways doesn't mean he has to like it. He's told his voice always sounds tired and lazy; either way, so acting like his usual jokey, blase self is not much of a difficulty behind a screen.

 

He twists the handle of the shack, finding it unlocked, and does a victorious fist pump when the door creaks open.

 

Dylan didn't mind staying here all night, or at least until he believed everyone else has gone to sleep. He's slept in worse places, like the McDonald's play place.

 

Well, it was actually quite cozy. Maybe he'll visit them again.

Though he has a feeling that he only got away with it because he was 7, and that falling asleep in a Mcdonald's as a full-grown adult would only warrant people to shun him more than they probably already do.

 

Stepping around his radio setup, Dylan examined it, despite using it almost daily.

 

Looking around the room, he finds nothing better to do but sit down at the desk and.. ponder his place in the universe, he guesses.

 

He leans back in the creaky chair and closes his eyes, the silence of the shack surrounding him like an overly warm blanket.

 

Dylan sat at the desk, his mind wandering through the many questions he had hoarded up in his clustered thoughts. 

 

He had always been a curious person, always wondering about the things around him. Unfortunately, now was one of those times when there wasn't exactly anything around him to ponder.

 

Bored from his train of thought, he picks himself up from his slouch and haphazardly aims for a random magazine he has laid out on the table.

 

He absently flips through the pages of the old thing he found lying in the dirt before camp had even begun. Though he had a feeling it was here for a much longer time.  The thing was probably older than him.  He thinks exaggeratedly.

 

Dylan absently wishes he had a notebook or something to write in, but he already packed his up in his bag.

 

Sighing, he drops the magazine on the floor, having gotten tired of that as well. Nothing can appease his rushing thoughts. 'Tis the misery of neurodivergence, he supposes.

 

Do people even read magazines anymore besides moms in their 40s?

 

Dylan stands up, officially and unequivocally  bored.  Maybe he can pretend he was just joking and that he is actually joyous that his crush and best friend smooched romantically right in front of him.

 

He'll come back with confetti and a pinata yelling, 'Hey guys, I wasn't actually mad, just organizing party supplies for my  pity party !!'

 

Wandering around the shack aimlessly, he stares out the window. The moonlight is very bright tonight, he thinks.

A full moon, though he's pretty sure that doesn't have anything to do with it.

 

His gaze drifts mindlessly before he catches movement out of the corner of his eye right when he gets ready to turn away.

 

Outside the window, something shiny and  moving .

At first, he thinks his eyes are playing tricks on him, as they do very often, but looking longer the thing comes more and more into the light and for a moment it only looks like an animal, but looking at it longer... It didn't look right.

 

It wasn't too close, so he wasn't getting a good look at it, but Dylan feels like it almost looks like a person.

 

So  excuse him  for freaking out a little when this very freaky supposed person's  bright glowing red eyes  turn to look at him from out of the shadows.

 

Dylan's breath catches in his throat; not sure what he's looking at but is too freaked out by it to look away. It feels wrong to look at; a feeling of unease makes a pit in his stomach.

 

Dylan is always one to go with his gut, so he backs away from the window, maybe a bit too quickly, because he sees the glistening eyes perk up from where they were watching him.

 

That is when Dylan decides  fuck this  and that he wants to leave.

 

Turning away from the window reluctantly, Dylan looks to his radio gear, pondering if he wants to call someone to come get him, but what if it's actually  nothing  and he's just overreacting? 

 

That'd surely make them think he was cuckoo, but he could probably play it off as something else to make them come anyway without being all, ' Guys, I'm pretty sure I just saw my sleep paralysis demon outside the window; please come pick me up!'

 

But before he can even decide on the point of action, the universe decides to say,  'Hey, hold that thought',  as he hears a loud thud and turns back to the window quickly enough to see the weird creature of his nightmares  launch itself at the door.

 

Splinters of wood break off from the door, but the door itself does not give, apparently deciding to spare him from sudden doom.

 

Dylan screams, a loud guttural sound,  " Holy shit! "

 

When the  thing  doesn't stop trying to break into the room, he continues trying to scream in fear, but the terror seizes him so suddenly that his throat closes around the sound, choked noises being the only thing that manages to escape.

 

Backed up against the wall, he stares the door down, clutching himself tightly.

 

What the fuck is that thing? He wants to ask, but the only thought that he can really comprehend is the endless repetition of  'go away; why is this happening? please, go away.'

 

The violent clawing at the door stops, the immediate danger pausing but he doesn't feel any better knowing  whatever the  fuck  that was  is right outside the door, even if it stopped trying to rip it off its hinges.

 

Dylan feels his legs shaking, wanting to give out beneath him, but the tight feeling in his chest refuses to allow him.

 

He breathes out heavily, a shaky whine dragging itself from his throat.

 

He can feel the heat building up in his eyes, tears threatening to build up and fall, but he's too frozen to even cry at whatever the fuck is happening.

 

He doesn't snap himself out of his shock until he hears the sound of a loud thud and scraping making itself known above him.

 

Looking up, Dylan realizes that it's climbed up  on the roof .

"Ohh...  Fuck  this." He whimpers out, the sentence coming out watery.

 

He looks back at the door, pondering if he should just leave or if it will jump down on him and maul him to death.

 

He swerves his head around the room, looking for better means of escape.

 

" Ssshit.."  Dylan hisses.

Dylan quickly rushes back over to the desk, bending over it and sweeping his eyes across his equipment, trying to choose a course of action before finally coming to a conclusion.

 

Whatever the fuck that thing was, was  not  human.  He thinks, that much is obvious   the growling and heavy breathing coming from above makes his mind stutter.  Not human, animal, sensitive hearing,  his thoughts formulate an idea quickly.

 

An animal with sensitive hearing would most definitely not enjoy... " A feedback loop.. " He mutters.

The high-pitch noise should scare the weird machination of his nightmares away long enough for him to make a run for it.

 

Cranking and twisting the radio, he gets increasingly agitated as he goes on, trying to get this done as soon as possible, wanting to leave this hell cabin as fast as he could.

 

This should be working, but, fuck. Something was missing.

Looking around frantically, Dylan can feel the stress and fear pricking at his eyes.

 

His breathing increases in rate, " Fuck, fucking goddamnit-"  He grips his hair with his hand.

He closes his eyes, tears threatening to fall.  He is not going to cry . Letting the tears escape feels like admitting defeat, so wiping them harshly from his eyes, Dylan scans the radio once more.

 

Loud banging sounds from the roof; Dylan flinches violently to look at where it came from before he forces his attention back onto the radio.

 

His eyes hone into the problem quickly.

"Shit.." Dylan says to himself,  It pulled the wire .

 

Looking up at the roof, where the wire is meant to protrude, Dylan thinks to himself.

 

The...  creature  doesn't sound very close to the wire now, but he can't be too sure. He's starting to think it climbed on the roof with a purpose.

 

But what other choice does he have? He doesn't think his co-workers would fare very well against a cryptid creature of the night if he decided to call them here instead.

 

He doesn't hear it anymore, an eerie silence sounding from the roof. Bracing himself, he reaches up through the opening for the wire.

 

Feeling around, he frantically grabs for the wire. Relief floods him when he feels the coil of cord enters his palm.

 

Dylan almost lets himself relax, thinking he might just get out of this; until everything goes to shit.

 

It feels like a bolt of lightning releases itself into his hand, a quick and unseen movement hastily clamping its teeth around him.

 

Then, Dylan's nerves are  on fire . The ones in his hand screaming the loudest, louder than his screams that he can't even really  hear , as everywhere else on his body feels both heavy and weightless at the same time.

 

The pull on Dylan's hand is a violent jerk filled with the intent to kill, an unimaginably strong force tugging as if it were trying to  tear his arm from its socket.

Being repetitively yanked into the ceiling only made it worse, his head feeling as though it wanted to split in half. 

 

Through the gaps in the crumbling ceiling, he feels the thing's sharp teeth release his hand as it realizes it can't pull him through the roof; and he falls back harshly onto the ground.

 

Screams and cries rip themselves out of his throat as he grips the pain in his hand, the fire only dragging itself further up his arm painfully.

 

He wants it to stop; he wants the indescribable feeling and the darkening veins crawling up his arm to  stop . He wants to go home.

 

His body quakes as he tries to move, suddenly feeling ten times weaker than it was moments ago.

A long whine draws itself from Dylan, tears building up from the searing pain.

 

He grips the hardwood floor with his nails, scraping them uncomfortably against the surface.

He tries standing once more, moving at least to where he can play the feedback loop, but he barely makes it back over to the wall where the wire protrudes.

 

Pushing himself against the wall, breathing heavily, he hauls himself up and tugs the wire closer to his body.

 

Holding it close, he hobbles his way over to the radio and puts the wire back where it belongs.

Dylan holds his heavy form up, his arms resting on the desk, his mangled hand trembling with force.

 

He drags his gaze over to the button before he slams his hand down on it.

 

It reacts immediately; a loud, ear-grating screeching rings from the speakers, shaking him to his core. His ears feel like they're going to split apart, along with his head.

 

Dylan drags himself over to the window; looking out, he watches as the misshapen-being throws itself back into the darkness of the forest's trees.

 

Dylan takes no time to rip the door open, and using the adrenaline and shock to his advantage, he runs.

 

Darting in the opposite direction of where that monster escaped, he trips over his feet as he rushes off the side of the stairs a bit too quickly, though he gains his footing back as the overwhelming need to get back to safety washes over him.

 

His arm still feeling like it's enclosed in a scalding fire, he grips it, jabbing his nails into it with a painful force.

 

He has no time to care about the pulsing in his arm; though, as he is quickly faced with danger once more when he spots glowing eyes dead ahead of him.

 

Pausing in his rush to escape, his breath catches, but before he can think about what to do his body makes the decision before him when a deep inhuman growling rumbles from the beast.

 

Dylan quickly swerves his entire body right, his nails indenting his arm even tighter as thundering footsteps loudly begin closing in on him.

 

The beast pants with excitement as it chases him; he can hear its inhuman grunts even with the roaring in his ears.

 

After what feels like forever, his eyes lock with a path, but before he can follow it the thing jumps at him, so Dylan narrowly manages to avoid it by throwing himself to the side unto the ground.

 

Possibly not the best idea, as he scrambles to get back up, but a pain once again spikes in his mangled arm. A tearful scream tears itself from Dylan's throat, as the metallic clamp of a beartrap clasps itself around his hand.

 

He tugs and claws painfully at the stupid contraption, as he screams, but trying to get it off with only one hand is useless.

 

Looking back at the  monster,  he finds it staring at him, slowly walking over to him, its body crouched closer to the ground as though it were a cat.

 

It's ironic. It's taunting me; the way a cat would.  He thinks back to Schrodinger. He promised he'd be back to get her after the summer, but it seems the last thing he'll be doing in the land of the living is breaking a promise to his cat.

 

He closes his eyes, trembling as tears fall, until the sound of a harsh tugging makes itself pronounced, a creak coming soon after followed by a snap.

 

He hears the werewolf cry out, screaming and growling in anger. Opening his eyes, he makes out shapes through the blur of his tears.

 

He watches as the werewolf claws at open air, suspended in a tree by a rope trapped around its ankles.

 

Dylan stares ahead at the sight in disbelief.  Disbelief that he didn't just  die .

 

A heavy breath escapes him; and then a hysterical chuckle, followed by a few more manic giggles.

 

"..H-Holy  shit... " Dylan slurs breathily. A tar-like feeling engulfs Dylan's head as he tries to comprehend what has happened.

 

He exhaled shakily, taking his gaze back to his now disfigured hand.

A sob escapes him, exhaustion creeping behind his eyes.

 

Looking back, Dylan realizes he probably should have thought more about staying at the radio shack or brought something that would have helped him defend himself.  

 

Then again, he was probably already screwed the moment he decided to leave the lodge to go gallivanting in the woods.

 

He tries to process  anything  about his current situation; Dylan was just bitten by a strange creature, only to escape said creature and run into its  cousin  or something, and his hand is now enclosed in a bear trap he was  very sure  was not here the day prior.

 

He is quickly snapped out of his thoughts when he hears the rustling of the trees surrounding him that was definitely not from the demon in the tree.

 

He turns with a fearful expression to face the sound, his eyes wide and attentive.

An unexpected sight drags itself from the darkness of the shrubbery.

 

Who the hell was this guy?

 

A man Dylan is pretty sure he's never seen once in his days living walks out from the trees like he owns the place, gazing at the situation with half-lid eyes, as though the situation is something he goes through often.

 

The man is dressed in a hat you'd only see on a father and overalls, without a shirt underneath, might he add.

If Dylan were any more out of it, he may have insulted this man's fashion sense, but he's conscious enough to realize that this guy could probably throttle him.

 

After scanning Dylan with his eyes, the man began to walk closer, at which point Dylan became particularly aware of the large gun the guy was holding.

 

"W-Woah... W- Who are you?" He lifts his hand up in a placating  'back up'  motion, but the guy doesn't seem to get the memo; as he kneels down next to the beartrap enclosing Dylan's hand.

 

The man's eyes scanned over Dylan's bitten hand with a practiced eye, almost reaching out to touch his arm before hesitating and retracting his hand.

"..Wha' are you doing...?" Dylan slurs quietly.

 

The man looks Dylan over once more, their eyes making contact momentarily before the guy's gaze falls back to the injury. 

 

The man raised himself higher; straightening his back from his previous slouch.

 "There's still time," The redneck-looking man critically stared down at Dylan. 

 

Dylan looked up, confusion etched across his face. "...Time for wha-?" That was all that Dylan was able to respond before the man lined up the barrel of his gun with Dylan's arm and  pulled the trigger.

 

And just like that, suddenly all of Dylan's nerves were on fire yet again.

 

Screams  tore  themselves from Dylan's throat, causing a hoarse rawness to gnaw at him painfully. He couldn't be bothered to care about the pain in his throat, no. The blazing of his nerves was like no other as he lifted his arm to grip where his hand was meant to be.

 

Sobs escaped him, watery and tearful and loud, his body shaking with each convulsion the sobbing caused.

" WHY, " Dylan screamed hoarsly, his voice flitting out in a sickly manner.

 

He continued to cry as the man watched on. Dylan begun to try and scramble away, propping himself up, but the man gripped his shirt in a tight hold.

 

Dylan writhed and squirmed, trying to pull himself away from the man before he could do anything worse, but then a snapping sound echoed loudly, and he hears a thud.

 

Looking, he spots the creature has escaped from the trap in the tree; and has positioned itself to lunge. It's golden glowing eyes glaring at the man, him being the bigger target.

 

The man's grip slackened as he tightened his grip on the gun once again, aiming it at the creature but not firing.

 

Dylan takes this moment to tightly grip the dirt between his fingers, shaking and queasy, but he needs to keep going.

 

So he gets a head start ahead of the man, scrambling his way away from the creature and the murderous hillbilly, tripping over his own feet in his haste.

 

He runs and runs and doesn't stop, even at the loud popping of gunshots and screams and howls.

 

His legs don't even feel like they're there anymore, numb and unimportant to his thoughts as he focused more on the grip he had on his stub.

 

Suddenly, a whine and sob escape him as it sets in that his hand has been  severed from his body.

 

He continues to run, despite the blurring in his eyes and the fact that he doesn't even know where he's going; because that's all he can think to do.

 

He suddenly trips, tumbling and sliding through dirt; looking up, he realizes he's no longer surrounded by trees as a clearing makes itself known.

 

He looks around, and ahead he spots something he'd never thought he'd be so happy to see.

 

Sobbing tears from Dylan's throat as he picks himself back up and hobbles to the lodge. As he gets closer, his vision gets blurrier, and so do his thoughts.

 

He just needs to get inside, then he can sleep. Even if he feels  so tired  right now.

 

His legs tremble beneath him, crying out in fatigue, but they don't end up giving out until he reaches the door.

 

Falling heavily into the wood, he scrambles for the door knob.

 

His hand, covered in his own blood, fails to twist the knob at least four times before he actually manages to crane the door open.

 

When the door opens wide enough, he only barely takes a step in before his world spins out of frame, and he hits the floor with a thud that strikes his eardrums in a painful manner.

 

The last thing his brain registers before everything goes dark; are the familiar screams of his name.

Notes:

i was not lying when i said it was just me abusing dylan