Chapter Text
Everyone was dead.
The cabin smelled of rot and death. Even when you closed your eyes, you couldn’t stop the images of your friend’s mutilated bodies flashing behind your eyelids. One by one, they were slaughtered. You hadn’t had the time to see who was doing all of this. All you saw was the hatchet embedded in John’s head when he made the mistake of opening the front door. All because of a strange scratching sound coming from it. You had all thought it was just a random animal, maybe a little racoon. Oh, how wrong you were.
This was supposed to just be a fun road trip with your friends. Your first stop was this cabin you had all pitched in to rent. Sure, now you knew just how cliche it was—a group of young adults renting out and staying the night at a cabin in the woods. But at the time it sounded so nice! Picturesque even. Now, though, the irony certainly wasn’t lost on you.
You had all been having such a good time, playing music and eating pizza you had gotten earlier on your way there. Then the power went out some time in the late evening, around when the sun was setting. One of you tried to check around for a possible backup generator, but to no avail. You figured one night without power wouldn’t hurt. You could always charge your phones in the car if you needed to. It wasn’t a big deal. It was the middle of autumn, so the temperatures were comfortable. But that damn sound—that damn scratching. And John... that big lug of an idiot just had to go check, box of crackers in hand for what he thought to be some rodent. That’s when shit really hit the fan.
And now you were hiding. Your lungs were heaving with panic and adrenaline, and your heart was beating so loudly it was almost deafening. Your hands clasped over your mouth, trying to keep the sound of your breathing as muffled as you could. It was so quiet—so incredibly quiet. It hadn’t always been this eerily silent, though.
Just minutes ago, the walls echoed with the screams and yells of your friends as some tried to fight back against whoever was doing this. Cries and begs for mercy when those who hid like you did were found and dragged out. But now everything was quiet, and you weren’t dumb. You knew what it meant. You had to force yourself to resist jumping every time you heard the sound of a creak or what you thought might be a foot step. It was only a matter of time before you were dragged out, too. Before you were found.
You were hiding in the attic, tucked away out of sight in a crevice between the foundations of the roof. It smelled so heavily of dust and possibly mildew, you almost choked on it when you first came up here. But right now, that was hardly of concern to you. You could hear it. The sound of a voice. As if they were right beneath where you stood, with only the layer of wooden flooring separating you from your would be death. You could barely make out what they were saying, but you could tell it was the sound of a man’s voice. It sounded like they were talking to someone. If they were, you couldn’t hear anyone else’s voice. Though that didn’t mean much, there could still very well be multiple people. Or just the one.
Your curiosity got the better of you as you kneeled down lower until you were on your hands and knees. You pressed your ear against the wood floor, concentrating on trying to catch what they were saying.
“N-no…not all…fucking f-find them…n-nagging Tim!”
It was still hard to capture the full sentence, but you were able to catch a few words. They had to be talking to someone, or rather arguing, if the irritation in their voice was anything to go by. If there was more than one, that meant you really were royally screwed. You already knew there was no way you could fight some hatchet-wielding psycho head-on. Not without some way of defending yourself. So fighting more than one of them? No. If you were going to survive somehow, then you would have to find some way to sneak out. Some way to get to the car. Get the hell away from here and find help!
You looked around and your eyes landed on the small window across the room. You had eyed it a few times before. It wasn’t a very big window; it was rectangular, just big enough to give the attic a tiny bit of air flow when open. If it opened at all. The latches... it was dark but you could tell they were a bit rusted. Who knew how long it’s been since it had been opened last. But if you could get it open, you might just be able to squeeze out through it. Maybe falling from this height wouldn’t kill you? Breaking an arm or a leg was leagues better than getting chopped up any day. Ending up like-
You shook your head, trying not to think about it. It hurt. You couldn’t do anything to help any of them; all you could do was hide like a coward. Even when you were running through the cabin, rounding corners, you caught glimpses of what that monster did to the ones they got to first. Even when you tried desperately to convince Hana, your best friend, to come hide with you in the attic, it did nothing. She refused…she thought she could get help. She wanted to actually do something about this. Her phone still had power while your own had died some time ago before all of this happened. They heard her even as she was hiding with you in the bathroom. They heard her speaking. Even as you had snuck your way up the opening to the attic, tried to wave her over. You should have just grabbed her. Dragged her up with you. But they dragged her out first, and you watched in agony as she was taken away from your view and her screams resounded. Not even closing the latch to the attic muffled them.
You blinked your tears away. You couldn’t think about that now. You couldn’t grieve or even let yourself process it yet…If you did, you might not have the strength to keep going. You might not have the will to survive. So you pushed those thoughts aside and instead focused on your fear and desperation to live. To fuel your next action.
Carefully, you stood, your eyes scanning what you could of the attic floor. You had to be careful where you stepped. One wrong move, one wrong shift in your weight, and a creak would give away exactly where you were. All of this felt like some screwed-up game of hide and seek.
You took off your shoes. Your foot steps would be quieter without them, with your socks helping to muffle your feet more. Slowly, you began to make your way across the room. You stayed near the wall, keeping every footfall light. It took everything in you not to just sprint up to the window.
Once you did finally reach it, you let out the breath you were holding as quietly as you could. You’d managed to prevent any floor creaking. So you reached out to the latch of the window, setting your shoes down. You needed to get it open. You could worry about putting your shoes back on later.
Just as you thought, the latches being rusted definitely made things difficult. It took a few attempts, but you did pry them open. It was when you went to push the window up to open it that it made the most unholy screech of metal you’d ever heard. Your blood went cold. Your heart stopped. There was no way they didn’t hear that.
“Fuck fuck fuck fuck-“ you muttered under your breath, your voice trembling now as you just said screw it and pushed the window open the rest of the way. You had to act quickly now, so you slid your torso out the window first. In your hurry you left your shoes in the attic, not bothering to pick them up. There was no time. You grasped at the edge of the roof above you, using it to stabilize yourself as you got your legs out. There was a horizontal beam under where the window was located, so you stood on it.
You looked around, trying to figure out if you could somehow just scale down from where you were or at least jump somewhere that could be the least painful place to land. None of that ended up mattering, because fate chose for you. Or rather, that murderer did. You heard even from where you precariously stood as the latch to the attic had been forced open.
“F-Found you-BITCH”
The voice was much louder now, if not still oddly muffled. You didn’t dare to turn. You didn’t have the time to even think of it as a hatchet broke through the window, slicing your arm and just barely missing you. You let out a cry from the pain, then lost your footing. Your foot slipped off the beam, and you fell.
You heaved a pained cough as you landed, having fallen face first, but tried to shield yourself with your arms. Your ribs took the brunt of it but they didn’t feel broken. They did, however, ache and were definitely bruised from the fall. You scrambled to your feet; any other injuries you hadn’t noticed didn’t matter at the moment. You couldn’t even really feel the slash at your arm, the adrenaline numbing everything. Though when you stood, you gripped at the side that still managed to ache through the adrenaline rush as you forced yourself to keep moving.
The car was right there, you just had to get to it. Stumbling your way, you leaned heavily against the side of it. You tried to open the car door before you realized you had no key. And there was no possible way for you to just go back in there and look for it. So you tugged the sleeve of your hoodie down your arm and did what you’ve seen people do in movies. You elbowed the window hard. The first time did nothing. The second time, you did it harder and it cracked a bit. The third time, you managed to break the glass and you felt a rawness to your arm afterwards, but you ignored it for now. You unlocked the door with shaky hands and got in.
Inside the car now you twisted around the seat, looking through compartments for-
You found it! John’s pocket knife! You jammed it in to try starting the car.
The car didn’t start.
You tried again, firmly twisting it as you heard it try to start, but…it didn’t.
“No…no no no please no!” You choked out, trying again and again and again. This couldn’t be happening. The car had been working fine! It never just broke down like this unless-…but they couldn’t have! They couldn’t have messed with the car…could they? So focused you were on getting the car to start, lost in your thoughts and praying that it would work…you didn’t notice the shadow that now loomed beside you, right outside the door until it was too late. A hand roughly grabbed you and pulled you through the broken window, tossing you onto the ground.
You gasped as you were manhandled and finally saw your would-be murderer for the first time that night.
The first thing your eyes landed on was orange.
The reflective surface of the goggles showing a smaller and slightly warped version of you. As if mocking you. Then it was that mask, mouth guard? Go figure he would have his face covered. You took in the messy head of brown hair and the blood-stained dark hoodie he wore. Fingerless glove-clad hands wrapped tightly around a hatchet at his side.
You scrambled backwards before getting on your feet, ready to bolt, but he grabbed you by the back of your jacket and pinned you down. The gravel of the driveway scratched at your cheek as you tried to squirm and struggle.
“S-Stay still!” He said, his voice was muffled and sounded a bit strange now that you could hear it more directly. Almost inhuman. It had to be because of that mouth guard thing. But you weren’t about to follow orders. You weren’t about to just make it easy for him to finish you. No way.
When you had gotten pulled out, you still had a grip on the pocket knife and had pulled it along with you. You struggled to turn and look at him, but you could feel him straddling you, keeping you pinned. So with one hard swing, you managed to bury the blade into his thigh. But…he didn’t react at all. You expected him to, at the very least, be thrown off by the pain enough for you to slip away. But it was like he hadn’t even noticed! What the hell was this guy’s deal?!
“That’s…c-cute. But y-you’ll have to do better th-than that.” CRACK*. Whatever that was, it sounded sickening.
“Fuck off!” You spat out venemously, only for your assailant to laugh. You don’t know what got into you or how you managed to wrestle your way into turning around. Or how the hell you managed the strength to slam your fist into his face. But you did, and it was enough to knock him off of you. And there was no way you wouldn’t take full advantage of that.
You crawled out from under him and ran. You ran as hard and fast as you possibly could, straight into the trees. Maybe you could outrun him. Maybe you could get to a road. Maybe the trees might give you enough cover to make it harder to chase you. You just wanted to survive.
—
At first, he found you really annoying, making him waste his time looking all around the cabin for you. But then you really ended up fascinating him. You let yourself fall down two stories, just to escape his hatchet. That was bold. He’d never seen a target go that far, almost kill himself like that. You had guts.
And that panicked look on your face when you looked up at him…it was kind of cute. He wanted to see it more. He wanted to see what other expressions he could get you to make, what other scared little sounds and cries he could get out of you.
He fixed his goggles, having gone askew from your punch.
He had a job to do, and you were a target. That meant you had to be killed off like the rest of them had been. But that didn’t mean he couldn’t have some fun until then.
—
You panted heavily as you ran through the trees, the branches occasionally grazing you or outright smacking into them. Your feet crunched over leaves and twigs. You were tired, could feel your whole body burning and aching with strain. But stopping meant death. That much was proven when you heard something cut through the air, literally, and land on a nearby trunk with a dull thunk. The bastard had thrown his hatchet. But you got an idea, and quickly gripped at the handle to rip it out of the tree it landed in. You might as well use his weapon against him, right? If he catches you…you’d at least not be empty-handed.
You hadn’t realized that he still had a second one, the one he had lunged at you through the attic window earlier.
“Hey! Th-that’s mine!” He called out as you ran off with the weapon. His tone was playful, only making a chill go up your spine. It was different from how he had spoken before—intimidating, demanding. But now it was as if he was talking casually, like he was playing some silly game.
This wasn’t a game to you. This was your life. This was survival. And he was a murderer.
Your determination to survive, however, did not account for your lack of paying attention. As you ran, hatchet firmly gripped in your hands, life or the universe decided to fuck you over right when you had the smallest inkling of hope that you might actually survive this.
Your foot caught onto something—the root of a tree you failed to hop over? Whatever it was, it had you tumbling down a hill. You landed at the bottom with a pained groan. You weren’t sure how much more your body could take…but you had to keep moving. You tried to force yourself up, but the minute you so much as moved your leg, you cringed in pain. Your ankle was fucked. Not broken; at least you didn’t think it was. But it certainly would suck to walk on. Might bruise and swell if it hasn’t started already. Still, you made yourself crawl, looking around for the hatchet you had stupidly dropped when you fell.
Your eyes caught the glint of the blade reflecting the light of the moon, and you lit up. Thank god! You went to grab it but-
“Found y-you again~”
That voice…taunting. You whimpered and then let out a scream. He grabbed you by your injured ankle and dragged you back away from the weapon.
“Ah ah ah…y-you shouldn’t p…play with things t-that- FUCK- A-aren’t…yours.”
His grip hurt. It hurt so so bad. If that fall didn’t break your ankle, this guy might snap it himself! You then froze. He had swung and buried his other hatchet into the ground, right beside your head. That could have been in your skull…or your neck. You started to wriggle again, trying to fight back like before. But this time, he gripped your wrists painfully and pinned them down on the ground. His legs were caging your sides, straddling you again. His weight settling on your lower hips. You tried to wrestle him off, to turn around, to pry your wrists free—anything.
Little did you notice, the more you wriggled, the more you moved your hips. The more you inadvertently pressed your ass flush right against his crotch. You only realized it when you felt something unmistakably hard start to poke you there.
“What the hell- YOU FUCKING PERVERT!” You yelled out, disgusted. On top of being a fucking murderer, he gets turned on?! Suppose it only made sense that a maniac like this guy would get off to killing people. That had to be it, right? Crazy fucker.
Suddenly you were picked up slightly by the back of your head, your hair gripped tightly, only to be slammed down hard against the dirt floor. You grunted painfully as the impact on your head made you dizzy.
“You’re s-so noisy…” he said. You could feel him when he started to grind against you, and you weakly tried to kick your feet, to fight. But you couldn’t focus. “How a-about I give-give you a r-real reason to scream~”. Those words made your blood run cold. You turned your head as much as you could, even though it hurt your neck, trying to look at him. Tears were spilling from your eyes, making the scratches on your cheeks sting. Through the blur of tears, you watched as his head titled in an odd angle, and that same sickening crack from before resounded. It was from his neck; you saw that now. The sound made you sick to your stomach.
Your head felt murky. You could hardly think straight. You felt him pull your wrists down from above you to behind your back instead, and something leather was wrapped tightly around them. You weakly tugged at them; your limbs felt so useless. You could barely react when you were suddenly flipped over onto your back. Your arms aching now in this position. You tried to blink away the blur from your eyes to glare up at the killer, but it was utterly in vain.
You refused to beg. You refused to give him what he wanted. He wanted a mouse that was going to just cry and screech, but you wouldn’t. If you were going to die, you were not going to give him the satisfaction of your pain; you were determined.
Your breath hitched when he picked up his hatchet. This was it. He was going to kill you now. The glint of the hatchet’s blade seemed almost blinding. You wish you could have told Hana how much she meant to you. You wish you could have called your brother one more time and told him you weren’t mad at him anymore. You wish you could have said goodbye to Basil…at that thought, a sob escaped your lips. He would have no idea what happened to you. He would be waiting for you to get back, but…you wouldn’t. Because you’ll be dead.
You watched in your final moments as he lifted the blade and…didn’t plunge it into you like you thought he would.
Riiiip
He had hooked the edge of the blade at the collar of your shirt and tugged it down. It sliced your shirt open like butter. You shuddered as the cold, crisp air of the woods hit your now exposed torso, your chest heaving as your face contorted in confusion.
“What-“ you had begun to speak, but a rough gloved hand sliding up your abdomen to your chest quickly rendered you speechless.
What was happening? There’s no way…was this guy really gonna-
“Ah!” You cried but bit your lip, keeping in any other sounds. He had started to mess with your nipple and you squirmed at the strange feeling.
“S-so soft…and pink…” he said as if marveling at your body.
You squeezed your eyes shut, turning your head to the side. Your lips trembled. You didn’t want this…you’d rather this bastard just kill you instead.
You made such a pathetic sight. Crying and trying so hard not to make any noises, refusing to look at him. It made him want to play with you even more. He wasn’t sure what'd gotten into him, but he couldn’t help himself. Something about you…he just wanted more. His cock ached in his pants for it. He didn’t normally have this kind of reaction when he was doing a job. It had to be your fault.
He slid his hand down your skin again, tracing over your ribs and your soft stomach. He wanted to bite you and mark you all over. He wanted to mess you up. He really wasn’t a patient guy.
He began undoing your pants, pulling them down, boxers and all. You tried to kick at your legs again, but that still wasn’t effective. He tossed your clothes off to the side without a single care. Sitting back slightly, he took a moment to gaze down at you. You felt so exposed, but there was nothing you could do. No way to fight him off. All you could do was keep your mouth shut, but he had other plans.
Suddenly, there were a pair of fingers pressing and jamming roughly against your lips. You clenched your jaw, refusing to let them breach your mouth.
“C-come on…it…it will o-only hurt more if you don’t get them nice and w-wet…” he taunted as he persisted, shoving his fingers harder and harder until you couldn’t possibly stop them. He forced them into your mouth, and it nearly made you gag from how deep he pushed him. “Whoops~” he teased. You glared at him at that. You had half a mind to bite them, but considering he didn’t even react to the pocket knife you had stabbed him with earlier, you knew it would amount to nothing. Just like everything else you’ve been trying.
You knew what was coming after this, so you began to swirl your tongue around the digits. At least if it hurt less, it would make staying silent easier, right? Right. You continued this for a few minutes before he eventually pulled his fingers out, string of saliva connecting them to your lips still. Dread filled your chest as the reality of what was going to happen fully hit you. You clenched your eyes shut again as you felt him move his hand lower and lower down your body. You felt as the tips of his fingers began to prod and press against your entrance. He pushed one digit in, taking his sweet time. It made every centimeter that slid inside you burn. A shocked gasp was forced out of you when you felt a hand wrap around your limp cock and start to jerk it. Your eyes snapped open, and you looked down, seeing that he had removed one of his gloves. It felt so hot against your cock that, to your horror, you felt it twitch.
You knew he felt it too. Because he started to jerk you off a bit faster. He slid another finger into you, thrusting them both in and working your hole open. You clung to your fear; it was the only thing that kept your body from reacting. But even that didn’t last. It all went right out the window the second he curled his fingers inside you and found that sinful bundle of nerves. Your body jolted, and you threw your head back with a cry. And he proceeded to hit that spot over and over again, your hips trembling as they began to buck and shake on their own. Your cock now stood, fully erect. That seemed to be exactly what he had wanted, because he stopped jerking you off but kept his hand wrapped around you.
It wasn’t supposed to feel good. But it didn’t take long for your cock to start drooling precum, and your hips to thrust up desperate for friction. It felt way too good…and you couldn’t stop yourself at all. You were getting closer and closer to cumming by the second. He could tell that much too. So when he suddenly stopped, pulled his fingers out, and gripped tight at the base of your cock to keep you from cumming, you let out the most embarrassing of whines.
“Aww~…d-dont worry…I’m gonna g-give you something w-way better.” The killer spoke as if he were trying to soothe you. You did not respond, whincing as a wave of shame hitting you. You didn’t want anything from this monster, least of all any of this.
You flinched when he leaned in, looming over you. You closed your eyes as you tried to shrink in on yourself the closer he got. You could hear his breathing. And he spoke into your ear, muffled due to the mouth guard but so much clearer now that he was so close.
“I’m going to make you cum on my cock…”
You bit your lip so hard that you drew blood this time. You felt the blunt tip of something much thicker than his fingers pressing against your entrance. You don’t know when he unzipped his pants and pulled his dick out. But now he was taking his sweet time, slowly pushing into you. Your back involuntarily arched, nearly letting out a cry you muffled the best you could as you kept biting into your lip. The pleasure from before was gone and replaced with agonizing pain as he penetrated you. He didn’t stop pushing in until his cock was fully sheathed inside you. You felt like you were going to break, like he was going to tear you open.
You could hear him as he let out a shuddery sigh, his bruising grip holding your legs up by your thighs.
“Fuck…so tight…”
Your only response was to whimper. He didn’t give you much time to adjust before he started to pull out, almost all the way before he slammed his cock in fully again. He repeated the action, again and again, the pace starting off slow and hard. It was like he was trying to carve your insides with his dick. Like he was trying to make sure you’d remember every inch. You grunted with every thrust, your tongue coated in the coppery taste of blood from the raw wound at your lip. Your hands were clenched into fists behind your back even despite them having gone a bit numb at this point.
“Nn…AH!” A cry was ripped out of your throat when he angled his hips just right and slammed his cock into you, finding that spot again. Seeing that reaction sent a thrill through him. He picked up the pace, properly fucking you into the ground.
“Your voice…I l-like your voice…be a g-good boy…sc-scream for me.” He said, panting huskily as he lost himself more and more in his lustful desires. It felt so good, the way you were taking him. The way you practically swallowed his cock with your greedy hole. He could see how hard you were trying not to give in, but every thrust he slammed into you forced you to let out more screams and they echoed around you.
“F-fuck…sto…p…feels…weird…” you whined. You were unraveling, becoming a panting and moaning mess as that pleasure began to overtake you again. Only this time, it was so much more intense. Far beyond what you thought being fucked like this could ever feel like. Every slam of his cock filled you up in ways that felt… addictive. You tossed your head back and practically saw stars, drool trickling down your chin.
You were such a filthy sight, and he was devouring every second of it.
“You c-can be honest…feels good d-doesn’t it…you l-like being fucked like this.” He said. You shook your head, denying it.
“I…I don’t! Ah! It…hurts…I hate…hate you!”
The killer chuckled lowly, one of his hands releasing your thigh and coming up to wrap around your neck. You made a choking sound as he tightened his grip, struggling to inhale the more pressure he put onto your wind pipe.
“You’re t-…taking cock like such a g-good l-little SLUT-…you k-keep…squeezing me…so damn greedy.”
“Shut…sh-hah…shut up!” You managed to choke out.
“You’re s-such a liar…but you h-have…such an h-honest hole~”
The edges of your vision were beginning to darken, get fuzzy. The lack of oxygen making it impossible to focus. Not enough to form any coherent sentences anymore, at least. Your mouth hung open, desperately gulping what air you possibly could.
Suddenly, you arched your back, lifting it a bit from the floor. Your eyes rolled back as you came, your own seed making a mess on your stomach and some of it spurting onto his hoodie. Your brain was mush, and your vision wavered before you went completely limp. You lost consciousness.
“Damn…” the killer muttered, continuing to fuck your now limp body. He hadn’t expected you to react so intensely. It must have been one hell of an orgasm for you to pass out like that. That wasn’t very fair. You just came all on your own. How selfish. You would make up for it later, but for now-
He folded you over, your legs dangling limply over his shoulders as he pounded into you with complete abandon.
The heady sound of skin slapping resounded around you as he chased after his own climax. Minutes later, his thrusts became jerky and shallow, until finally he slammed into you once more and came deep inside you. He filled you to the absolute brim, even as drops of his cum spilled out as it overflowed. He panted heavily as he came down from his high, lifting his goggles up. He stared at your unconscious face with his brown eyes.
This feeling…
He felt…something different. It was almost grounding.
There was no way in hell he was going to let you go…
He wouldn’t kill you. Not yet…