Dark Devotion [Yandere! Dead By Daylight X Reader]

Dark Devotion [Yandere! Dead By Daylight x Reader]

Summary: You are a mystery to both the survivors and killers within the fog. A servant of darkness, a creature created by the entity itself, you are the shadow behind the scenes that provides the survivors with the necessities they need to survive, while also assisting killers with the weapons they need to sacrifice. You are a servant void of humanity, but not one that seeks out despair. An empty slate that perhaps just needs to be taught a little bit of hope and empathy to help the survivors escape once and for all.

Six. Botany Knowledge

Once the sound of even breathing filled the silence of the room, you quietly stood up from your chair. The pierced scraping of wood scratching across the floor and itched at your ears. Your eyes briefly looked over the sleeping brunet, watching as his chest slowly rose and fell with every breath he took.

You could understand why he didn’t want to rest. For someone like you, sleep wasn’t necessary. You could stay awake for as many millennia as the realm remained without ever needing to rest. 

It wasn’t as if you couldn’t sleep though. You’ve just never tried. After all, if it wasn’t necessary, why bother?

It’s different for humans though. Since your creator had a very peculiar diet, you did everything you could to learn more about how to harvest the food source to its most beneficial potential. The more you learned about humanity, and the more you learned on how they functioned, the better you could do to ensure that the entity got to feast well. That’s why making sure the survivors were taken care of properly was one of your top priorities. 

Giving one last look to the sleeping survivor, you turned around and opened up the screen door; making your way over to the next row of cabins.

One by one you continued with your routine. You walked into each cabin, dropping off some bed sheets, and left just as quick as you had entered. It wasn’t long until you were finally down to the last cabin. 

Entering through the screen door, you were mindful to give the wooden door a gentle knock as you made your way inside. You looked around the room, your eyes searching for the brunette botanist, only for you to be met with another empty cabin.

Walking across the creaking wooden floors, your ears instantly picked up the sound of water droplets falling into a bigger body of water. You briefly gazed over to the woman’s desk where the source of the sound was coming from. Placing the neatly folded bedsheets on her bed, your focus went over to the table, intrigued by the contents that were scattered on the surface.

Dozens upon dozens of notes littered the desk. Papers scribbled with messages that started with ‘to me: from past me’ were written over in messy ink. Following the trail of papers, your eyes looked over the various plants spread over the window sill. Many of the herbs and flowers from the realm were planted into small tin cans with little noted descriptions of each flora written on a piece of paper taped to the wall. Each one of those notes had drawn diagrams of the plants, along with detailed paragraphs about the biology of each greenery and theories of what they did. 

All of the notes were so intricate and riveting that you found yourself immersed with all of the contents on the desk. Especially once your eyes caught sight of the very corner of the table where a bowl of water with a tubed outlet was placed. The tube allowed water to dribble out of the small hole and fall into another bowl of water that was placed underneath the desk.

Lifting a hand to the desk, your fingers lightly traced over the notes. Reading over the contents of scribbled passages with curious [eye color] eyes. You took in all of the information like a sponge. Not once did you take your attention away from the papers, not even when the cabin door swung open.

Claudette looked down at her hands with a tender smile.

Her fingers gently held onto the handle of her basket. Various flowers and herbs of unknown origin were bundled into the mahogany hamper. Her hands were scratched up with cuts and bandages, a few lumps and itchy rashes covered her dark skin, but she didn’t mind as she gazed down in awe at the mysterious bundle of flora.

Claudette had just gotten back from foraging around the camp. After the nice blonde woman named Kate had shown her around, Claudette had to excuse herself from the others. The wave of information of the realm had flooded her mind like a typhoon, and she needed an outlet to rethink everything she had just learned. 

She had gone back to the cabin Kate had said belonged to her. Upon entering, she had found herself staring at a desk with hundreds of notes written in her handwriting. All of the papers helped explain the situation to her in more detail. Not only that, but they also brought back some of her memories. 

She had died. 

She could still feel the pierced knives break through her skin. The many hooks that impaled into her shoulder, over and over again as she let out a horrid scream that scratched at the back of her throat. It sent shivers down her spine. Her breathing became disheveled and she began rocking back and forth while holding onto herself. Those memories were becoming overbearing. She couldn’t handle it. She needed to leave.

Once she had shakily grabbed her basket off the floor of her bed, Claudette ran out the door and sprinted into the forest. She ran and ran until the lights from the torches around the cabins began to fade, and she had found herself in the middle of the woods surrounded by towering trees and unfamiliar plants. After her heart settled back into an even pace, she began to recoup by throwing herself into the bundle of flowers.

With shaky hands, she studied the plants surrounding her, her once fearful brown eyes stared down at the flowers in awe. She was shocked to see how many of the flora looked like plants she had known back in her world. However, the plants in this realm were nothing like the ones she had studied. The flowers here were vastly different, glowing neon colors throughout the stems.

Memories of her life in the realm had slowly come back to her, but unlike the ones back in the cabin, these memories weren’t bad. They were fuzzy cut up images of her studying the flora of the realm. The recollection of broken memories were both comforting and familiar pieces of a puzzle that rose with each plant she encountered. She remembered how much she loved studying the flowers in the realm and how her knowledge in botany had helped not only her, but the others in this world. 

She also remembered that all of the plants in this realm were scientific anomalies that had her mind buzzing with questions. These flowers had different purposes, each purpose confusing her more and more as she dug through the dirt and pulled the roots of the plants from the ground to place in her basket.

She had explored the light fog until her basket was full to the brim with unknown greenery. Once satisfied, she went back to her cabin. She was no longer upset, but rather excited to study and learn about the nature of this new place once she was in the safe haven of her room.

All of that led to where she was now. As soon as she walked through the screen door, she paused. Claudette’s eyes widened a bit as she gazed upon the person standing by her desk. 

“Oh, hello.” She called out, placing the basket of plants by the door of the cabin. “Are you another survivor?” She asked with a small tilt of her head. 

You didn’t respond at first. Your eyes just intensely stared at one of her notes, as though you were contemplating on saying something. 

“I see your memories still haven’t returned.” You chose to respond before you finally brought your full attention to the botanist. “No. I’m not a survivor. I am the servant to the entity.”

“Servant?” She repeated, a frown formed on her face. She couldn’t quite remember you. Her memories were still a collection of broken fragments, but she did remember reading through her notes on things about you. 

You were the entity’s servant. The only being allowed to wander anywhere around the realm without being blocked off by an invisible wall. She didn’t know how old you were. What your name was. Or how you were even created. No one knew any of those questions. You were a complete mystery, much like your creator. 

All she knew about you was what she observed from the sidelines. And according to her notes, you were really nice and helpful. A little bit hard to talk to, but that could be blamed on herself since she was never the kind of person to easily talk to people. Other than that, she never thought one bad thing about you. If anything, her notes often wondered if you were anything like her. 

Claudette let a smile curve on her lips. “Oh, it’s you. Is there anything I can do for you?”

You shook your head, your eyes subtly trailing back to her desk. “Not at all. I was just dropping off some bed sheets.”

Claudette nodded. “Okay then. Well, thank you.”

The room was silent once more with Claudette looking at you and her eyes trailing over to her desk, anticipating for you to leave so she could continue to study her notes and bring back other memories to further study the plants within the fog. Although you said you were just there to drop off some bedsheets, you didn’t make any moves to leave after completing said task. You merely stood there, eyes glued to her notes. 

“You’re wrong.”

You finally spoke, your words catching Claudette off guard. 

“Huh?”

You pointed to one of her notes.

“The golden flowers. They don’t provide any aid to healing. However, they do grant one hundred percent bonuses to your currency.” You picked up one of the fragrant primrose flowers that was cut and strayed on the desk. You then twirled the stem of the flower in your hand, your eyes gazing down at the glowing golden petals.

Claudette’s eyes widened. Taking quick strides across the floor, she hastily picked up her notes, her eyes moving from her notes to the flowers between your fingers before her gaze met yours.

“Really? Because whenever I’d burn these offerings I would often feel like they had medicinal properties that would soothe injuries. I actually remember that feeling. I often felt like I was making a difference when it came to healing whenever I would offer the primrose to the campfire.”

You nodded, “Yes, I am certain that the primrose flora do not have any healing effects. What might make you think this could be a variety of factors such as your knowledge on botany or your ability to track injured survivors, however, I don't think that is exactly what you’re referring to.”

Claudette was quick to shake her head in protest, “No! I know the difference! When I would burn any of the plants in this realm, I can tell that it was doing something different, I just didn’t know what.”

“It’s the offering itself telling you what your main objective for that trial is.” You calmly explained. “For example, if you happen to burn a bog laurel flower, then you would feel the need to focus on generator repairs. If you burn a crispleaf amaranth, you would want to focus on escaping. Each offering motivates you to focus on an objective within the trials.”

Claudette gasped, “That makes so much sense!” 

She then fumbled through her papers, her fingers excitedly flipping through all of her notes until she pulled out a brand new sheet of paper. Grabbing a pen, the woman scribbled down the things you had just taught her. She could feel her head thump in pain. Memories of the things she learned from the realm were resurfacing. Thousands upon thousands of questions filled her mind, all in which crowded her thoughts as she turned her attention back to you. 

Regardless of how her head screamed at her, Claudette ignored the pain and grabbed some of her notes. The botanist then proceeded to push the papers into your hands.

“What about these notes? I’ve noticed that the leaves on the crispleaf are highlighted with crimson veins; that's not unusual since they’re amaranth flowers. But! What is unusual is that amaranth are short-lived perennials, or commonly known as annuals.” Claudette grabbed one of the amaranth flowers from the window sill. She brought the potted plant over to you, and carefully lifted it up to your eye level.

“If that were the case, then how come this one hasn’t died?” She then handed you the potted plant. You had to attentively tuck her notes into your arm as you held onto the shining tin of the planted amaranth. 

Claudette didn’t seem to notice you juggling between her things as she scurried back over to her desk and continued to pull out more papers. 

“The Amaranthaceae are a family of annual or perennial herbs. Depending on how the amaranth are stored and what species of amaranth they are, its lifespan can vary, but typically in a stored environment they can live up to a month or two. While in the wild they can live up to maybe a few weeks or months. The point is, the flowers themselves don’t live that long!”

Taking out the sheets of paper she was looking for, Claudette walked up to you and brought you a few charts. On the pages were tally marks scribbled across each line on the paper. Another page had squares with numbers and letters labeled ‘MTWTFSS’ along with a question mark on the top of each chart.

“What is this?” You asked, your eyes scanning over the paper, surprised and intrigued by the details of the notes.

“It’s my homemade calendar!” She exclaimed enthusiastically as she leaned over your shoulder. Her hand brushed against yours as she pointed at the different tally marks on the pages. 

“At first I started tracking time by using tally marks to show how many hours have passed in this realm, but since that got overwhelming, I’ve decided to keep track of time by making a calendar.” She then pointed at the corner of the paper, “Since I have no idea which month I’m in, I’ve decided to just label them all as question marks for the time being, but each one of my months have seventy three days and each day has thirty hours. It just makes things easier since there’s no leap year…or at least not that I know of.”

Scratching her head, Claudette continued, “My memories are still fuzzy, but from what I’ve read in my notes, I’ve learned about ancient civilizations and how some old customs used to use water as a means to tell time.” 

Claudette then left your side to pull out the journal that documented that day she had talked to the two scholars. Her eyes briefly read over the notes once more before she moved her attention back to you. “I had known this realm didn’t have a way to tell time. There are no clocks, there is no sun, and there aren’t any stars to track, but that didn’t mean I couldn’t at least try to record how much time had passed.”

Claudette then excitedly grabbed your wrist and brought you over to her desk. She went on to point at the large claymatic bowl you had previously been studying.

“See this here? This is a water clock, also called a clepsydras. I made it with the clay I molded from the dirt,” She spoke with a proud grin before continuing, “You see, I learned that many cultures used this method to track time,” She explained, her eyes looking through her notes. Claudette then crouched down, her hand still clamped around your wrist, bringing you down to level with her in front of the bowl of water placed on the floor. “There are two types of clepsydra. Inflow and outflow, both methods needing two large containers full of water. This right here just so happens to be an inflow type. You can tell because right here are marks for each hour.” She explained, her fingers pointing to the inside of the bowl where you can see numbers and lines marked across the clay. 

Claudette turned her head towards you. You could see how bright her brown eyes shined as she gazed at you with excitement. “With this method, I can track how many hours have passed in the realm!” She exclaimed, then paused. Her smile wavered a bit as she looked back at the water with her teeth lightly chewing on her lower lip, “Well, it’s not always accurate since I sometimes don’t make it out alive in trials and I come back to find my clock has overflowed, but it works enough for me to get a guess-stimate of how much time has passed.”

Her eyes then went to you and then the potted plant that was still resting in your hand.

“This is what brings me to my question. I know in some customs these flowers are said to be everlasting, immortal- they never die! But flower meanings aren’t facts. These are annual flowers and they aren’t supposed to last more than a few weeks, but they’ve surpassed that number! These annuals haven’t wilted since being planted! Why is that? Same question goes for all the other flowers that are supposed to be annuals!”

She scooted herself closer to you. You could see her cheeks flush with enthusiasm as she excitedly spoke in rapid words. 

“Does this have something to do with the biology of the flowers themselves? They aren’t exactly normal flowers, right? Or is it because the motion of time doesn’t exist here? I realized that like these plants, we don’t grow old. We don’t age no matter how much time has gone by! So far I’ve tracked that a few months have passed since I’ve created this clock, so it’s not a lot of time, but I can’t help but feel like it’s been maybe a few years…”

She then frowned, her mind began to stray for a moment, but before she could go back to any old memories of her previous life, Claudette shook her head. She didn’t want to think too hard on how long she’s been in the realm. What mattered was the present. So with her hands slapping her cheeks, she turned back to you.

“Well, that aside, I believe that we are like these plants,” Claudette brought her hand to her chin, her mind buzzing with questions that she let slip off her tongue.  

”I don't know how it is possible, but it seems as if we are somehow frozen in space and time. Everything I know about the science of how the universe works, it just doesn’t seem to apply to this place. It’s- it’s impossible. And yet, here I am experiencing it first hand…” Claudette pursed her lips, a deep frown settling on her face, “Does this mean that this place defies all laws of physics? I know time is technically just an illusion generated by the limitations of the way we perceive this universe, but still. Time is constant, and yet…”

Rubbing the space between her eyes, Claudette let out a tired sighed, “Oh wow, I shouldn’t be getting so worked up on this. After all, I’m no quantum physicist. I just have a love for the science field, so I don’t know why I started rambling. I doubt you’re even allowed to talk about this stuff, huh? ” She chuckled, moving her gaze to meet your stare.

As for you, you were honestly not expecting her to be so vocal after you had merely just corrected one of her notes. But here you were, sitting with her on the floor with your arms full of papers and a plant in your hand, having a one sided discussion over the nature of this realm. 

For a moment, you had no idea how to reply. There were certain rules that you couldn’t break. Ever since an incident with an old survivor, you couldn’t afford to make another mistake. Not if you wanted to disappoint your creator once more.

However, this survivor wasn’t like him. She was very intelligent, yes, but also carried herself in a way that was transparent. Much like you when you first emerged from the fog. So given what you’ve seen out of this survivor, you know that she is no threat to you. If anything, she could prove to be beneficial if you were to motivate her. 

“This realm is much different from your own. Think of everything you know about the properties that make up your universe, and disregard everything about it. This place isn’t your world. It is the entity’s.” You finally explained, voice stern as you faced the botanist, “Understand this, there are some things in this realm that I am forbidden to discuss, and there are some things that are just too vast for the human mind to comprehend. So know that I will do my best to answer any inquiries you have on this realm, and I’ll let you know if I am unable to answer.”

Claudette’s eyes widened and she took a deep breath. She was half expecting you to shut her down right away since that’s what you’re known to do when asked questions on the entity. Yet, here you were. You listened to her, you conversed with her, and you were ready to answer any questions she had (with some exceptions) but that's besides the point. 

It was unexpected, but it thrilled her. Her fingers fidgeted with the papers in her hand, but she wasn’t nervous. Instead, a fuzzy warm feeling bloomed in her chest, causing her lips to curve up into a bright, excited smile.

Reader with the doctor who is clumsy and tends to get hurt and not know it till they are bleeding? Maybe they have a high pain tolerence ? Fluff plz

Electrifying Wounds

The Doctor/Herman Carter x Killer! Frankenstein! Reader

Sorry this took a lot longer to get out! Vecna was released yesterday and I had been playing all day 💀 But I hope this turned out okay!! I’m still new to requests and I was going back and forth on if I should write this as a oneshot or imagine, so I wrote a oneshot. I kinda changed the prompt a bit since I wasn’t quite sure if the reader should be a killer or a survivor and I had recently watched Lisa Frankenstein so I ended up with this LOL so I hope this is okay! And ngl, I might do a part 2 for this since I kinda dig the idea of a The Doctor x Frankenstein… so yeah! My apologies if Herman is a lil OOC…this is my first time writing for him :’)

Emerging from the clouds of black fog, you found yourself back at the campground. With a yawn leaving your lips, you stretched out your aching muscles with a satisfied ‘pop!’

Another trial had commenced and you had found yourself at a place called Autohaven Wreckers. Usually when the entity would send you to maps that didn’t work in your favor, you would typically let the survivors run free while accepting that you’d be punished.

It wasn’t as if you felt the pain of her tendrils anyways.

Seeing as how you were the living embodiment of a bunch of body parts sewn together, you didn’t necessarily ‘feel’ pain. So you usually never minded letting survivors run free.

However, you had been feeling rather bloodthirsty for a while, so when you spawned into the dark green atmospheric map, you gripped onto your weapon tightly and went out hunting for the group of survivors.

The trial was difficult at first, but overall you still came out on top. While the survivors were well coordinated, rushing through generators with their toolboxes and splitting up the moment you appeared, you, on the other hand, were determined enough to slaughter their blood all over the wrecked cars.

Stalking, chasing, and hooking, you managed to end the trial with three kills out of four which wasn’t too bad at all, but you would have prefered to have all the survivors dead.

Oh well. The trial was over and you had satisfied your own craving.

Now you were tired beyond belief and you were just about ready to flop onto your mattress and have a well deserved nap.

Walking down the pebbled path, you turned your attention over to the towering trees ahead. You were about to make your way through the forest to retire into your cabin until you heard a deep chuckle come from behind you, causing you to look over your shoulder.

A few feet away from you wearing a white ripped up lab coat over a white collared shirt and black tie, stood a man with a wired head contraption that peeled open his eyes and mouth.

You weren’t one to really interact with the other killers. In fact, a lot of the other killers in the realm were rather hostile. However, this killer in particular was one that you found yourself rather attracted to, and as the two of you continued to interact within the time you spent in the realm, you could sense that he felt that same bond.

So once you caught sight of the familiar man, you stopped.

“Oh, hey Dr. Carter.” You greeted, rubbing your eyes tiredly, “How’s it going?”

Stalking closer to you, the man didn’t give you an answer. Instead, he let out an amused giggle.

“[Name], did a survivor strike you again?” His raspy voice asked, eyes sparking with mischief as he watched you tilt your head in confusion.

“Huh? No, why do you ask?”

The man didn’t respond, he merely brought a hand to your shoulder and traced his finger down your back and around an oozing puncture wound. With electricity flowing through his fingers, the doctor gave a quick zap to the bleeding hole, earning himself a small shiver from you.

“Owe.” You muttered, albeit, in a monotone voice.

It was obvious that you didn’t truly feel the pain of that shock. If it had been anyone else to receive that much electricity, they would’ve convulsed on the spot. However, you didn’t. Instead, you treated Herman’s shocks as if they were a small tickle to the touch.

It amused him greatly, and the man couldn’t help but show his delight by admiring your being. Bringing his hand to his face, Herman observed the blood that covered his fingers. It was a dark inky black, barely even considered red at that point. It was truly something to marvel at. Blood didn’t flow through your veins like an ordinary being, yet here you stood able to walk and talk just like him.

You were truly the embodiment of the first sci-fi monster.

The doctor could feel a his heart beat rapidly against his chest. Letting out another fit of laughter, Herman watched as you brought your own hand to your shoulder and touched the area where his fingers had just lingered.

“Huh.” You voiced, “I didn’t even know that was there. I must’ve gotten it when I fell over my missing arm and had landed on a leaking pipe.” Scratching your head, you continued with a pout. “I knew I should’ve burned a map offering. Autohaven is just too cluttered for me.”

Herman’s laugh continued. His body shook as a deep fit of laughter rippled through his being.

Oh, how you were his favorite specimen in all of the realm.

With his fingers still sparking with impulsive shocks, the man held out his hand to you, “Shall we go back to my cabin? I would love to stitch up your wounds.”

You looked down at his hand for a moment.

You really wanted to rest. But at the same time, Dr. Carter was the only being who you truly had any ‘feelings’ for. His electricity enticed you, and gazing into his glowing white eyes, you could tell that he knew that too.

Were you just another experiment to him? Many would say so, but as you stood in front of the man, watching as he held out a hand towards you, his eyes beckoning you to take his hand, a part of you believed that he felt something for you as well.

So you took his hand, shivering as you felt electricity run through your body.

Letting out another deep chuckle, Herman took your hand and brought your fingers to his lips. Placing a chaste kiss to the top of your skin, Herman gripped your hand tightly before leading you back to his cabin.

Sent in a request hope it was ok

Hi! Yeah I just saw it!! I’ll be sure to get it written by tomorrow 💞

February 2023

Dark Devotion [Yandere! Dead By Daylight x Reader]

Summary: You are a mystery to both the survivors and killers within the fog. A servant of darkness, a creature created by the entity itself, you are the shadow behind the scenes that provides the survivors with the necessities they need to survive, while also assisting killers with the weapons they need to sacrifice. You are a servant void of humanity, but not one that seeks out despair. An empty slate that perhaps just needs to be taught a little bit of hope and empathy to help the survivors escape once and for all.

Two. Self Preservation

A cold, winter breeze brushed through her short, silver locks. The freezing temperatures nipped at her pale skin and her breaths came out shallow and quick. Running out from the abandoned cabin lodge, Yun-Jin continued to sprint across the snowy grounds and make her way towards the flashing red light that blinked just a few feet away.

Almost there. She was almost there.

As she got closer, Yun-Jin could feel her heartbeat begin to thump rapidly against her chest. A deep,sinister laugh could be heard from behind the mound near the doors followed by rushing footsteps. Her brown eyes widened in fear. She wanted to turn back. She wanted to run away, perhaps find the other doors. But if she were to turn around, he was certainly going to kill her. 

The hex: ‘no one escapes death’ was still active and she had searched high and low to find it, but her search came down to nothing. She had no idea where the other survivors were, and the exit gates in front of her were point blank to being open. She didn’t have much time to think about it. The exit gates were right there. One second left on the door, and if she was quick enough, she was certain she could make it. 

She could only hope the others were already at the second exit. 

Rushing past the mound, Yun-Jin quickly grabbed the rusted steel handle and flicked down the switch. In an instant, the doors began to shrill and slowly open.

A smile almost made its way to her lips, however, her sense of security left upon hearing a scream come from behind. Looking over her shoulder, Yun-Jin felt her heart plummet to her stomach upon seeing the brunette botanist, known as Claudette, fall to the ground just a few feet away. Yun-Jin could only watch in horror as a familiar man with slicked back silver hair and bright golden hues walked in with a short swing of his bat. 

Yun-Jin looked at the exit and then back at the botanist. She wanted to run up to the woman and heal her, but she was terrified at the same time. Should she just leave? Her eyes looked over at the woman who had been assisting her in the trials so far. She had been nothing but kind and helpful to her. No, she could not just up an abandon her. Not like she did back then. 

Yun-Jin took a hesitant step forward. She thought about running up to the woman and helping her up, but she couldn’t. She couldn’t fight off the little devil that told her to just run away. Leave her and escape while you still can. She hated having these thoughts, but could anyone really blame her?

Fortunately, she didn’t have to dwell on those thoughts any longer, because as soon as she made eye contact with Claudette, the young botanist silently told with her fearful brown eyes a single word.

Don’t.

So Yun-Jin stood by the exit, watching helplessly as the killer let out a loose laugh. He swung his bat away and took out multiple blades, each one suddenly stabbed into Claudette’s body. Yun-Jin felt her stomach tie into a knot, the young woman’s screams echoing out into the cold, open air, but there was nothing she could do but watch in despair. 

Once her screams died into nothingness, Yun-Jin moved her eyes away from Claudette’s corpse. Her attention then transferred over to the deranged man that hovered over the botanist with gleam in his sadistic golden eyes. That man…he was one of Yun-Jin’s greatest successes, but also one of her greatest regrets. Wearing a long yellow coat and magenta colored pants, the male known by his stage name “The Trickster” stood just a few feet away from her, with an unnerving smile curved on his lips. He looked happy, too happy for someone who just brutally murdered an innocent woman.

Why? Why is that deranged man like this? How did she not see the signs before arriving here?! If it wasn’t for him…

Yun-Jin glared in anger and disgust. Although she stared spitefully, the man paid no attention to her unwavering sneer. Instead, the trickster, also known as Ji-Woon Hak, grabbed a flimsy piece of paper out of his coat pocket. Without sparring another glance, he carelessly flicked the photocard at the brunette’s corpse. 

“Thank you for watching my performance.”

His deep, playful voice spoke out. Ji-Woon’s bright golden hues then gazed over at Yun-Jin with a mischievous smile tugging at his lips. Although his words were supposed to be aimed at Claudette, his gaze never left Yun-Jin’s form, causing a feeling of dread wash over her. All feelings of anger faded into fear as the man slowly began to saunter his way to the exit gates. 

Without another thought, Yun-Jin quickly turned around and ran through the exit gates. She didn’t stop running, not even when she felt her body pass through the portal that would separate her from the killer. She just kept running and running, not daring to turn around until she was sure she was safe from the deranged idol.

As she ran, the once snow filled scenery morphed into hazy darkness. Fog filled the air and a dark mist began to surround her vision. Yun Jin closed her eyes. She could feel the tears begin to slowly slide down her cheek. Her mind could not forget those piercing golden eyes or that chilly, deep laugh that echoed freely in her mind. And her thoughts could certainly not forget Claudette’s sacrifice. 

How did things come to this? What did she do in her past life to be sent to this hell? And worst of all, why the hell is he here too? Was this god’s punishment to her? Is this her karma for leaving the building without another thought? Was it so wrong for her to think of her own survival in that very instant? 

She had no idea why she was sent here…but she did know one thing. She wasn’t here alone.

Upon appearing from within the swirls of black mist, Yun-Jin walked by the towering pine trees and made her way into the dim lit opening ahead. Emerging from the forest, the first thing Yun-Jin’s eyes landed on was a large, open campsite. The place was set up in sections with one side having rows of cabins lined up side by side, and the other side opened with wooden tables and a single large campfire pit surrounded by log benches.

Walking further into the camp, Yun-Jin looked around at the many survivors that either sat alone or talked amongst themselves in different groups. Some of them would ignore her, while others simply glanced up and gave a nod of acknowledgement, and a few watched her carefully, as though she herself was a killer in disguise. Pursing her lips, Yun-Jin glanced around awkwardly, her eyes searching for any signs of a friendly face. 

Since arriving, the silver haired woman didn’t really get to know many of the other survivors. Most seemed to prefer being alone while others looked like they couldn’t be bothered. Of course it wasn’t as though everyone was heartless to newcomers. When she first arrived, Yun-Jin was greeted by a few of the survivors that had been there the longest, specifically: Dwight and Claudette. The two approached her gently and explained everything to her. 

It was unbelievable at first, but once she survived her first trial followed by the next two, the nightmare finally settled in. She was stuck in this hellish cycle with a bunch of strangers that met a similar fate as herself. At this point, she could only rely on herself and her friends to survive. 

Well, if she had friends. 

The only person who had been talking to her so far was Claudette, and she was dead. Well, for now that is. Yun-Jin didn’t quite understand the whole ‘revival’ concept, but she knew Claudette wasn’t actually ‘dead’ dead. However, she didn’t know how long it took for her to come back. For all she knew, it would be a while before the brunette botanist returned.

Looking around, Yun-Jin’s eyes landed on a small group of survivors sitting by the fire pit. She recognized one of the survivors as someone who had briefly introduced herself while being shown around the campsite. Feng Min? Yeah, that was her name. She seemed nice enough, and the group around her seemed to be a good start. 

Deciding to broaden her connections with the other survivors, Yun-Jin made her way to the group.

As she got closer, she could hear some of them talking, others joking, followed by some snickers of laughter. Yun-Jin wasn’t usually a nervous person, but among the group of survivors who had known each other for what she assumed to be quite some time, she couldn’t help but feel a bit out of her element. 

Standing by the group, Yun-Jin cleared her throat, catching all of their attention.

“May I sit with you all?” she asked. 

The group looked at her, some surprised while others welcomed her with a small smile. The first to respond was the young woman with short black hair pulled back into a tight bun, and a blue uniform shirt and shorts. 

“Knock yourself out.” 

Yun-Jin gave a tight lipped smile, “Thank you.”

Pulling down her skirt, the silver haired woman took a seat by a man with dirty blonde hair pushed back into a combover with faded grey eyes wearing a dark blue coat and pants. He briefly looked up at her. A small, welcoming smile tugged at his lips, but it didn’t quite meet his eyes. She could understand as much, but nonetheless she was grateful for his brief sense of welcome before he turned back to reading the book in his hands.

“So, you’re the new survivor, huh?” A woman with tan skin, short brown hair with long layered bangs and multiple piercings on her ears, spoke out. She wore a light brown leather jacket, dark blue jeans, and had a red colored scarf wrapped loosely around her neck. She sent her a grim smile, “Can’t exactly say welcome since no one really wants to be here, but I hope you’ve been adjusting well. I’m Zarina Kassir.”

The black haired woman from before waved her hand, “We briefly met, but you probably forgot since it gets kinda crazy when you first arrive, but I’m Feng Min”

“No, no. I remember. It’s nice to meet you- all of you.” Yun-Jin emphasized, receiving small smiles from the group. 

“I’m Adam Francis, it’s nice to meet you as well.” Said a black man with dark brown eyes and midnight black hair styled into a high top fade. He wore a white collared shirt, a dark grey tie tucked inside a grey vest and a long, worn down lab coat. The man gave a low chuckle, “Would’ve been better anywhere but here, but it’s still nice to meet you.”

Yun-Jin nodded, her eyes then moved to the man at her side that closed his book with a short chuckle.

“I see we’re introducing ourselves.” He spoke, his faded grey orbs looking over at her with another tight but warm smile. “Felix Richter.”

Yun-Jin would be lying if she said she wasn’t stunned at how quick they were to welcome her. Feeling a sense of belonging, she smiled gratefully at the group before her. “I’m Yun-Jin Lee. I hope you all take care of me.” It was without words that the others thought the same exact thing. 

“So, you just had your third trial, yeah?” Min asked, to which Yun-Jin nodded. The dark haired woman gapped at her, “Wow that’s amazing. No offense, but I’m surprised you escaped three times in a row. For a rookie, it’s kind of hard to do.”

“It’s mostly because I’ve had others help me.” Yun-Jin admitted, “The botanist woman, Claudette? She’s been in all of my trials so far, and has been a great help to me.” Yun-Jin suddenly grimaced, remembering the woman’s screams as though they were right in her ear. A pang of guilt struck her heart. “She even sacrificed herself for me. She said she was going to ‘ninety-nine’ a door and if it blinks to run to it. It was her second hook and I hadn’t been hooked at all that trial. I could’ve- I could’ve done something but I didn’t.” 

The group looked over her with sympathetic eyes, each one of them remembering a time when a teammate would sacrifice themselves so they could escape. 

“It doesn’t get any easier, but she’ll come back. The more you learn, the easier the trials will be, and the better you get, the less sacrifices will be made. Just remember she’ll come back.” Zarina attempted to comfort, but Yun-Jin just couldn’t shake off the guilt. It was like that time all over again. 

Lost in her own thoughts, the others gave her time to think and began to talk amongst themselves once more. As they spoke, Yun-Jin was cut short of her thoughts upon hearing a familiar soft spoken voice. Looking up, she watched as a pretty blonde woman held onto one of the hands of one of her fellow survivors. She recognized the confused looking woman as the one that had died just before the exit gates had opened. It was Claudette. 

“Claudette!” She jumped, her eyes brimmed with tears of joy. However, that soon washed away when the botanist looked at her in confusion. 

“Hello, do I know you?”

The blonde holding Claudette’s hand shook her head.

“Sorry, doll. She doesn’t have her memories quite yet, but give her some time and she’ll remember everything.” The woman explained before guiding Claudette away from the campfire and over to the rows of cabins. 

As the duo walked away, Yun-Jin gazed over at their disappearing forms in disbelief. Her eyes then trailed over to the group of survivors, but they went on chatting as though what happened was just another everyday occurrence. 

Sitting back down on the log, Yun-Jin stared off at the distance with a fearful expression written across her features. “How could she forget what happened?” She uttered. 

The others in the group looked back at her. 

“It happens when we die in the trials.” Min answered, her face twisting into anger. “Apparently the entity feeds on us so when we die and get sent back to the trials, we have no recollection of any of this.” She then motioned her hand to the entire campsite. “That way we have a more ‘fighting spirit’ to escape.” The woman then snorted, “Well, we sure did learn the hard way.”

“What do you mean by ‘feeds’?”

“The entity feeds on our strong emotions, especially hope.” Adam cut in. The tall man then rubbed his hands together, his dark brown eyes moved away from the fire pit to meet Yun-Jin fearful gaze. “That’s why we have short term memory loss. That way if we go back into the trials and escape, we are left in anguish upon thinking that we ever had a chance of leaving.”

“This place is worse than any hell. Even the devil himself wouldn’t want to be here.” Zarina muttered, but her words were heard from the rest of the group. The others stayed silent, all having the same thought in mind.

“What did I do to deserve this?”

Zarina looked at her with a pitiful smile, “Don’t beat yourself up. We’re all in this together.”

Yun-Jin furrowed her brows, her eyes glaring into the fire with angry tears glossing over her brown orbs, “It’s not fair! There has to be a way out of here!” She shouted, her eyes moving from one survivor to the next, hoping one of them would give her a hopeful look, but her heart dropped upon seeing them all avoid her gaze.

Min was the first to respond, a sarcastic, airy laugh leaving her lips. “Ha, yeah. If there was a way, we would’ve left by now.”

Yun-Jin pursed her lips. Crossing one leg over the other, she rested her chin on her hand and gazed out at the line of cabins with furrowed brows. She wondered why she was sent here. Her thoughts spiraling into a single thought, there had to be a way out of here.

As she stared out at the cabins, one of the doors swung open. Emerging from the medical cabin, Dwight stepped out onto the porch with a bashful expression. His face was tinted red and he was rubbing the back of his neck with a nervous smile placed on his lips. 

Yun-Jin raised a brow, observing as the anxious man took a few steps back, allowing you to enter the scene. 

Wearing a white button up shirt, black tie, and a matching black coat and pants that hugged your [body type] frame, you suddenly appeared in Yun-Jin’s line of sight looking perfect and poise. [Hair length] [hair color] hair that complimented your [skin tone] face. Dull [eye color] eyes that looked as blank as the night sky. You stood in front of Dwight with a vacant expression written on your flawless face. 

Yun-Jin had to admit, you were attractive. Extremely attractive. However, there was something about you that didn’t sit right with her. You always looked empty. Perhaps even lost. Not a thought seemed to go through your mind as others would speak to you, or when you were wandering around the campsite. You were just there.

“What about them?” She asked, catching everyone’s attention. Their eyes then followed hers that trailed across the camp over to you.

Upon seeing who she was referring to, Min couldn’t help but utter out, “The servant of evil?” To which got her a nudge to her rib and a hushed ‘Min!’ from Zarina. 

“Ow! What? That’s literally what they are. It’s not like they care if we talk shit about them. That thing has no feelings.” The others sighed. 

“What about them?” Adam changed the topic, his eyes looking back over to Yun-Jin.

“Do they know how to leave this place?”

Zarina hummed, “Most likely, but it’s not like that matters. They wouldn’t tell us.”

Yun-Jin sat up, a bit more curious as she looked at the others, but her gaze always faltered back to you. “Why not?”

“Because they are the entity’s servant.” Min responded, “When we became more self aware, we tried everything to pry information out of them, but they wouldn’t budge. We pleaded, cried, we even tried to threaten to harm them, but they still wouldn’t budge.”

“Have you tried rationalizing with them?”

At this, Adam scoffed. “Rationalize? How can you rationalize with something that doesn’t feel?”

“I mean, have you tried?” Yun-Jin looked over at the group. “You say they serve the entity, but that’s it, right? Has it tried to seek out your despair?”

The others gazed among themselves. They each looked at one another, each one of their thoughts attempting to recollect a time when you would be devious or cunning, but they could only draw blanks.

Adam shook his head. “No, but they’re not actively looking out for us either.”

“But maybe they can.” 

Min pursed her lips, thinking over Yun-Jin’s words. Her dark brown orbs gazed over at you, watching as you interacted with Dwight. Although you had never helped the survivors outright, you never seemed to show detest for them as well. You just gave them materials, healed them, and kept them alive. Now that she thought about you, you weren’t on a single “side”. You were just there.

“You might be onto something.” 

Adam looked at her in bewilderment, “Min, you can’t be serious.”

“Yun-Jin’s right. They move like an NPC.”

Felix gave Feng a quizzical expression, “A what?”

Min rolled her eyes, “In video game terms, a non playable character. Someone there to be in the background to assist the player with items or short information, but that’s it.”

“So what? Do we give it feelings? How does that work?” Zarina asked to which Min shook her head.

“No, we teach it to be more human. If we teach them empathy, love, hope, maybe they can help us. It’ll be like rewiring their code to do more than just serve the entity. We could turn it to our side and we will have something over the killers, and possibly even escape.”

“That’s ridiculous, it’ll never work!” Adam exclaimed, but Yun-Jin shook her head in protest. 

“You guys don’t know that.”

Zarina crossed her arms over her chest, her eyes watching as you continued to converse with Dwight. She never thought of you in any other way other than being there to serve the entity and keep the other survivors in check. She never once thought of the possibility that there was more to you than what you let on. Perhaps, well, just maybe you could be their ticket out of the realm. 

“I say we give it a shot.” She spoke, her eyes gazing at the others with a flicker of light gleaming in her dark brown eyes. “I mean, what do we have to lose? We die? Death would at least be a forever release from this place.” 

Adam looked at Zarina and the others, exasperatedly. He wasn’t exactly sure how this would work out, but if the others were confident, then just maybe it was okay to have a little sense of hope. With a sigh, he reluctantly nodded. “Okay, but we just can’t come to this out of nowhere. They’ll get suspicious. After all, they are still loyal to the entity.”

“So we try this with people who know them the most.” Zarina explained, but Felix looked confused. 

“And who would that be?”

Yun-Jin smiled, her eyes moving over to the anxious leader who stood before you with a red face and a nervous smile. 

“The people who’ve been here the longest.”

Dark Devotion [Yandere! Dead By Daylight x Reader]

Summary: You are a mystery to both the survivors and killers within the fog. A servant of darkness, a creature created by the entity itself, you are the shadow behind the scenes that provides the survivors with the necessities they need to survive, while also assisting killers with the weapons they need to sacrifice. You are a servant void of humanity, but not one that seeks out despair. An empty slate that perhaps just needs to be taught a little bit of hope and empathy to help the survivors escape once and for all.

Five. Vigil

NOTE: Spoilers for A Nightmare on Elm Street (2010)

TW: gore, MC is invasive but they’re learning boundaries

Laying in the cold paper thin bedsheets of his mattress, Quentin tossed and turned with his eyes screwed shut and his heart hammering against his chest. Beads of sweat formed on his forehead, causing his shaggy brown hair to cling to his skin. The male clenched his teeth. He was trying desperately to sleep, but he couldn't stop the memories that flashed in his mind.

Go to sleep. Go to sleep. Just go to sleep.

He chanted in his head, but no matter how many times he tried to convince himself to sleep, he couldn't stop his past from haunting him.

Dean. Kriss. Jesse. He can still see them hanging on the walls of the boiler room. Dean's cold lifeless eyes would bore into him. The slit across his throat would have Quentin subconsciously gripping his own neck as though he himself had the same wound. Kriss would be right next to Dean. She would be hanging in her nightgown, bloodied and torn to shreds with her body ripped open and her inner intestines pooling out onto the cement floor. Jesse would be on the other side of Kriss. His jaw slacked open into a scream with a giant hole punctured into his chest.

They were dead. All of his friends were dead. Nothing more than hung up hollow corpses that were void of any soul, and yet, as he stared up at their swaying bodies, Quentin could practically hear their blood-curdling screams that shrieked with every steam that blew around him. Freddy was toying with him. He had become delirious; ridden with fear as he searched around the flame covered basement. The steam in the boiler room hissed and cried, echoing all around like terrified shrieks of the damned. He was scared, but Quentin persisted in his search of Nancy. He remembered looking everywhere for her. His heart pounding in his chest and his eyes wavering all around to find the brunette only for more flames to engulf his vision.

Quentin curled up into a fetal position. His hands clamped onto his head as he shook in his bed. A pathetic attempt to bring himself comfort only for more memories to resurface.

"Wake up, Nancy! Wake up!"

Tears would form in his eyes upon seeing her motionless body, unaware that she was crying out in fear as Freddy trailed his claws over her chest while she  was stuck with him in the dream state.

Nancy lying in bed, her body limp as she was trapped in the nightmare. Quentin hovered over her, his fingers clenched around her shoulders as he gave her a rough shake.

"Nancy, please don't do this! Please! Nancy, come back! Please, wake up! You promised!"

He remembered reaching over for the adrenaline shot. With blood stained fingers, he lifted the syringe over his head and plunged it into her chest. At the time he was relieved when she woke up with a start. However, his relief would be short-lived once Freddy entered the real world.

Both him and Nancy would fight Freddy to the death. While he was on the floor watching as Freddy stared at his decapitated hand in shock, Nancy would use that opportunity to take a sharp metal rod and end Freddy's life in a single swipe. With his throat slit opened, black ooze gushing out of his neck, the dream demon would collapse, lying in a pool of his own blood.

It would end there. It was supposed to end there. Him and Nancy being taken away in an ambulance, holding each other for comfort from the horrors they had to face.

Except it didn't end.

After Nancy's mom disappeared, he knew the fight wasn't over. Sure, it may have ended for Nancy. But for him? Quentin wasn't done. He wanted to make sure Freddy died and got dragged back into hell before he could even think to lay another finger on Nancy. He wanted that dream demon to pay for everything he's done. Not just to him and his friends when they were children, but for the lives he took and ruined along the way. He wanted to make sure that Freddy Krueger died, burning in a fiery inferno where he belonged.

Quentin grit his teeth.

He could still see it. That place where it all began. Badham's Preschool. Quentin had run through the empty hallways, the fluorescent lights flickered over his head. His sneakers squeaked with every step, but he didn't stop running. Zigzagging through the different rooms, he remembered running into a can of paint thinner, immediately a plan formed in his head.

He taunted Freddy. Shouting swears until he successfully lured the killer into his trap. A smile had formed on his face, enjoying the scene of Freddy's shocked face when he looked around at the flames that engulfed him. Fire reigned upon the preschool. While Freddy succumbed to the heated flames, Quentin took that chance to run.

He ran and ran until he found himself back to the basement, and in Freddy's secret room. He had been cornered with Freddy trailing behind him with a wicked grin. The killer had thought he had won, but Quentin refused to go down. Not until he saw Freddy's corpse six feet under. He wanted him dead. If Quentin had any sort of murderous bone in his body, it was reserved just for Freddy. He wanted him dead, and he was going to do whatever he could to make sure that happened.

He let those dark thoughts consume him. It was the dream realm afterall. Everything he learned he brought up to the table, unaware of the growing fog and tendrils that rose from the ground.

With his body covered in a black mist, the brunet would find himself alone. He looked around in the empty void, lost and confused. Did he do it? He walked around a bit. This place felt like a dream, but not one that was familiar to him. He wandered around into the space of nothingness until his eyes caught sight of a figure in the distance. The mystery person wore a red and green striped sweater and a familiar looking fedora that made Quentin's hands clenched into fists.

The figure would look over his shoulder. He would rub his claws together, the sickening sound of metal scraping against each other filled in the deafening silence between them. The Nightmare would let out a sinister laugh, a wicked grin forming on his burnt lips.

One, two, Freddy's coming for you

Three, four, better lock your door

Five, six, grab your crucifix

Seven, eight, better stay up late

Nine, ten, Freddy's back again

"Hey, Quentin. Did ya miss me?"

Quentin shot up in a cold sweat.

His body ached and his fingers dug into the flimsy bed sheets as though it were his only lifeline. The male looked around the room, his eyes scanned the quiet cabin for any signs of the dream demon. The only thing he could see were dark wooden floorboards and a single light bulb hanging in the middle of the ceiling.

Brushing his hair out of his vision, Quentin rubbed his face in exhaustion. His eyes stung from the many sleepless nights where he would try to fall asleep only for his mind to haunt him with flashes of his past.

He thought it was over. He thought once Freddy was gone from the dream state then the nightmares would finally end.

It didn't.

Once he entered the fog, Quentin found himself in a never ending battle for survival. Serial killers, monsters, new demons he couldn't fathom even existing, all of them in this realm for him to face. And worst of all? Freddy was still alive. He was in this damned place too. All of his efforts, those countless sleepless nights of drinking redbull and gulping down modafinil tablets while huddled in a corner of the library, studying books, articles, and papers on lucid dreaming, all of that to make sure Freddy died and stayed in the darkest pits of the underworld- it was all for nothing.

The fog, it was a special kind of eternal damnation. No matter if Quentin stays awake or lets himself succumb to death, he would always find himself right back where he started.

In a sick twisted turn of events, Quentin sometimes often thought to himself that maybe he did get his wish. Freddy Krueger could no longer harm Nancy. The dream demon was trapped in the entity's grasp, forever serving as nothing more than a pawn.

And all it took was for Quentin to go to Hell and drag Freddy there with him.

The door knob to his cabin door twisted, catching his attention. The fearful man clenched his bedsheets in anticipation, adrenaline still running through his veins as he watched with wide brown eyes as the door slowly creaked open.

From the shadows of the night, in stepped your familiar silhouette, causing the male to release a heavy sigh. It was just you.

You walked into the cabin. Gently closing the door behind you, you turned your attention over to the restless survivor on the bed.

"You are still awake." You state with your cold [eye color] eyes observing the male, "You should be resting for your next trial."

Quentin screwed his eyes shut once more. He knew that already. He knew he should be asleep. He knew that he should be resting so he didn't hinder his teammates in the trials, but he couldn't. He just couldn't. How ironic. Back on Elm Street he was fighting the urge to sleep, but now? He needed it more than ever if he wanted to survive.

"Yeah I know, I'm just not tired," he lamely explained, but that answer didn't seem to satisfy you.

"You need to rest for your next trial." You repeated, much to Quentin's annoyance.

"Yeah, I know. But I already told you, I'm not tired." He snapped back. Weaving his fingers through his tangled hair, Quentin moved his eyes to you once more, and glared. "So I would appreciate it if you would just leave it at that and just piss off." The aggression in his voice was practically dripping with warning as he turned away with his hands clenched and his body teetering back and forth. Quentin could already feel himself on the edge of a breakdown, and having you around wasn't helping him calm down. So he had hoped you would take the hint and leave, but in spite of his irritable behavior, your demeanor never once wavered.

"In your last trial you had blown up a generator over ten times. You had caused The Nurse to change targets and you had gotten your teammate killed in the process."

Quentin's once tired eyes hardened. Why did you bring that up? Hadn't he already beaten himself up for that already? When he first entered the fog, he would always be there to lend a helping hand. He was the one the survivors went to when an injured person needed a medic. He was there to help with quick thought out plans and a fighting spirit.

But over time, that started to die out. He was getting sloppy. With each escape, he felt his will to survive slowly unravel, revealing a tired worn out young man that just wanted to rest. He tried desperately to keep up with the others, but he was drained. Nightmare after nightmare, Quentin became paranoid. He couldn't sleep. He would often faint from the lack of sleep, and when he awoke, all of his teammates would be dead and the hatch locked. Leaving him in the dying state as he embraced the entity's tendrils that would pierce his body until he awoke once more at the campfire.

He knew he had become a problem. The survivors would often give him a side-eyed glance when he walked by, but he couldn't help it. He tried. And tried. And tried. But he was tired of trying. He was done.

A sneer made its way to his lips. He snapped.

"I'm tired, okay!” He heaved, “I’m so fucking tired but I can't sleep! Every time I close my eyes, I see that bastard's face! You think I can sleep after everything he's done to me and my friends?! Who the fuck can sleep after seeing their close friends fucking corpses?! I sure as fuck can't! No matter how tired I am, I can't let myself go to sleep!" He shouted. By now he was standing to his feet, hovering a few meters before you with his chest puffing up and down as he took heavy breaths. Quentin stared at you. If his eyes weren't so dry, he might've actually cried.

"Do you know how frustrating it is to want something so bad, but you can't go for it because of your own mind? Constantly sabotaging myself and others— FUCK. I'm such a fuck up! I want to go to sleep again! I want to be useful to my team again— an-and, I even want to dream again. Good dreams, not the same bullshit nightmare I see every time I close my fucking eyes." With his body trembling, Quentin's gaze bored into yours, his blood shot eyes pleading as he held your stare.

"Why am I even suffering like this?" He asked, his voice raspy with his throat cut and dry. Shaking his head, Quentin let out a humorless laugh, "You know what? It's fine...I'm fine with suffering like this," His breathing was shallow and his entire body was hot with a hurricane of emotions. Despair. Fear. And worst of it all, rage.

"I'd be fine being here if only— if only I knew that he was fucking dead. But why? Why isn't he fucking dead?!" He screamed, "What the fuck am I still doing here?! What is this all for anyways?! It's just nightmare after nightmare, isn't it?! It's shit! It's fucking shit! This place is bullshit!"

Quentin shouted. His eyes finally caved in to his raw emotions with warm tears that streamed down his cheeks. Quentin cried, his face burning red and his body shaking, but he didn't falter his eyes away from you. He stared you down, pleading for an answer. He wished you would tell him. Tell him that Freddy Kruger can die for good. Tell him that Quentin's wish can come true. 'You want him dead? Be my guest,' and let Quentin end The Nightmare once and for all.

But no. As Quentin trembled before you with glossy eyes and an inch of hope, you met his stare with a shroud of mist.

Fuck, what was he even doing?

His hands moved straight to his face. Quickly wiping at his face to dry off his blurry vision, Quentin let out a groan. Letting his body fall limp, he sat back on his mattress and rubbed his hands over his closed eyes.

"I'm tired."

The air fell silent.

It felt like an eternity passed before Quentin felt his rage subdue and be replaced with nothing but pure exhaustion. When was the last time he vented out all of his anger? It had been a while. Now that he finally let his thoughts loose, he felt nothing. He was just done.

His eyes finally went back to you. You were still standing by the door, having not moved an inch during his entire mental breakdown.

He released a sigh. Rubbing his eyes, he spoke. "What're you doing in my room, anyways?" He asked, eyeing you down with a frown. "You always just barge in without announcement. Ever heard of knocking?"

And finally, for once the entire time since you've been in his cabin, you replied.

"No."

Quentin scoffed. "Of course not, what should I expect from you." He grumbled. Ruffling his wavy brown locks, Quentin sighed once more before turning his attention back to you. "Well knocking is what polite people do to inform someone that they're coming in." He explained in a snarky tone. Making a fist, he used the back of his hand to knock on wooden bed frame. "Like that."

"I see."

Still standing by the door, you used the back of your gloved knuckles to give his door a gentle knock. You then turned to him with a poker face.

"There. From now on I will knock on the door-"

Quentin nodded, a yawn leaving his lips. "Good."

"-after I've entered the room."

He looked at you in disbelief, "What?"

You stood up straighter. "I said I'll knock after I've entered the room, thus announcing my arrival." You responded, almost factual as if you were the one teaching him about knocking.

Quentin could only look at you with a pointed stare. He was too tired to laugh.

He pinched the bridge of his nose. "No, you do it before entering. That way you don't just scare someone or embarrass them. You let them know before so they could either tell you to wait or come in."

You stared at him without saying anything. The male didn't have to see it to know you were confused.

"You know what? Nevermind."

You gave a curt nod before walking further into the room.

"To answer your first question, I have come to give you clean bed sheets." You said, stepping into his line of sight. It was then that Quentin noticed the bundle of white held in your arms.

"Oh."

You gently set the fresh blankets onto the empty wooden desk besides his bed.

Quentin could only stare at the bedsheets, his mind going blank. "Thanks." He mumbled.

Feeling a wave of exhaustion, Quentin threw his head back. Closing his eyes, he ignored your presence as to let his restless mind wander.

While he laid back on the mattress, you turned to face him. You watched as he fought down another yawn. He was a peculiar one. He claims to be so tired, but he won't allow himself to rest. The human psyche worked in mysterious ways. Ways you couldn't understand, but you found intriguing. This particular survivor was a stubborn one, full of hatred and determination. He hated being in the realm, he hated that the dream demon was still alive. However, he still had a drive to see the killer suffer. Unknown to the brunet male, it was his restless obsession to end the dream demon that drew the entity to him. It was that same drive that kept him here and not thrown into the void.

Tired? It was a mere bump in the road, one easily conquered if he were to just allow himself to replenish his energy. How bad has his condition gotten since you've last seen him?

Walking over to his bedside, Quentin felt your shadow loom over him, causing him to open his eyes and slowly sit up.

"What do you want-?"

Before he could finish that sentence, you had leaned down to his eye level. Both of your hands cupped his cheeks, and tilted his head up to meet your ice cold gaze.

Quentin felt his face heat up. He could feel your cold touch hit his pale skin. You were so close, so much so that he could smell the strong scent of burning wood and fresh pine linger off of you. With your face moving closer to his, he could see those pools of [eye color] brighten in hue as you stared at him with your pupils dilating smaller and smaller. It was fascinating, if not scary, seeing the colors in your eyes swirl with life. [Eye color] tones mixed with gold swirls, he has seen your eyes ever glow like this when the two of you would meet up for check-ups, and every time he saw your eyes, he was in awe.

But not this time. Caught off guard, his heart thumped against his chest in fear as you stared at him, expressionless.

"Wh- hey! What're you doing?!" He sputtered, trying to pull himself away. If he weren't so exhausted, he could've probably escaped your grip, but his body failed him, making him sit still as you brushed your fingers across his cheeks.

"I'm scanning your health." You explained, bringing your hand to his temples. "You've been through this process before. I'd assume you would know that by now."

"Well- yeah, but I'd be aware of it first!" Quentin hissed, his body finally moving on his command as he brought his hand up and gripped one of your wrists. It was then that you looked at him, head tilted a bit and the swirl of colors fading in your eyes.

"Is there a problem?"

"Yes." He responded, his eyes not once faltering from your gaze, "Remember the knocking thing?"

"Yes."

"Well, this applies with the same rules. It's only polite to let me know you're going to scan my health before you go on touching me whenever you want. Even then I don't appreciate that."

"Why is that?"

"Because it’s just not okay with me.” As Quentin stared at you, he could see the information sinking in. The touch on his temple was being ever so slightly lifted away, causing him to loosen his own grip.

"I see." You mumbled, brows furrowed for a brief moment before you went back to your stoic expression. "I apologize if what I did is considered impolite.”

Quentin let out a long sigh. He couldn’t quite blame you for not understanding. It wasn’t as if you were intentionally trying to be invasive anyways. You were just another weird species in the realm that had the inability to understand boundaries. So while he still didn’t appreciate you always shadowing over him and the others, he knew that you never really had any ill intent.

“It’s fine.” He groaned into his hands, rubbing at his restless face, “At the very least, you know now."

“Thank you. I will to be sure to learn from this experience and remember to always inform you when I will be performing a wellness check." You commented, eyes stern as you stared down at him. “However, I do need to continue to scan your vitals. So I will inform you right now that I will be checking on your health. It is my duty to ensure all survivors are—.”

“—adequate enough to perform in trials. yeah, yeah. I know the drill.” Quentin rolled his eyes. Of course you wouldn’t completely follow his words. Why would you? It wasn’t as if you were in an allegiance with him. He was just another prisoner in the realm— one of many victims to the entity. He was just lucky you even took his words into consideration when you had no obligation to.

So, with his head rolling back to face the ceiling, Quentin mumbled a string of swears under his breath before meting your eyes once more.

“Fine. Just make it quick." He grumbled, watching you nod and gently rest your fingers back onto his temple. While you hovered over him, Quentin could feel his face warm up once more with every passing second he took looking at you. He could see every detail of your face. The shape of your eyes and the swirl of colors in your irises, his eyes moved across your face where he noted the peach fuzz on your cheeks and followed along the curves of your lips.

Your body was almost flushed against his. Your legs stood against the side of the bed, but your body leaned in close as your hands moved across his forehead. If anyone saw him now, they would think the two of you were being intimate with the way you brushed his hair off his skin and gently caressed the space under his eyes.

Although you were way too close for comfort, he had to admit that the way you were holding his face with delicate care was really soothing. He could feel his heart returning to an even pace and his body relax under your touch. He knew he shouldn't be letting his guard down, especially around someone who works under the creature that brought him here, but the way your hands cupped his face made him feel safe again. He let his eyes close, this time without Freddy popping into his vision.

"You're sleep deprived. Your insomnia has caused you to have high blood pressure and become easily irritable."

You released his face, making him stumble forward and blink himself awake.

You straightened up, your eyes gazed down at him almost as if you were scolding him.

"I've already informed you, but The Nightmare has no access to getting to the survivors' side of the map. And even if it were plausible, all killings outside the map are strictly forbidden and are punishable."

Quentin turned his face away, his once relaxed posture straightening up as he sat back against the bed frame. His embarrassment long forgotten upon hearing his diagnosis.

"I already know all that. I keep telling you, no matter how many times you tell me these things, I can't go to sleep."

"Well, you haven't been visiting the medical cabin as much. I merely assumed you go when I'm not around. Have you stopped taking your pills?"

Quentin sighed, "They stopped working."

You were confused.

"If that was the case then why haven't you come to see me? I could always prepare you with other medication."

Quentin let out a sarcastic laugh. "So the others can keep questioning me? I already get a bad rep by falling asleep in trials, I don't want the others asking anymore questions. It'll just cause more problems."

You didn't understand why it was such a big deal, but if the brunet survivor was going to be stubborn then you would have to find other means for him to rest. Getting off the bed, you straightened yourself out before looking back over to him.

"If that's the case, then do you have any other methods of being able to fall asleep?"

Other methods?

Quentin scratched the back of his head. "Ugh, not that I know of."

The male racked in his brain for any memories. Warm milk did nothing. He's already tried exercising. And sleeping pills...he's taken so many that he's pretty sure that if he survived every one of his trials then he'd die of bad intestines. He's done pretty much everything.

A sudden flash of Nancy came to mind, causing Quentin to halt. Nancy.

He remembered those nights with Nancy after they both thought they had killed Freddy. He remembered how he would hold Nancy to sleep, lulling her with sweet words followed by small kisses. He remembered holding her as the visions would come flooding in, but once he tightened his hold on her, feeling her body against his as he cuddled her like a safety blanket, the visions would go away. It was all Nancy. Nancy was his reason to keep going. She made him strong. She was what kept him sane and the nightmares away. She was his everything.

A ghost of a smile moved on his lips.

"Did you think of something?" You asked, having witnessed his change of demeanor.

Quentin snapped out of his daze. Meeting your observing eyes, Quentin coughed into his hand, hiding his blushing face. "Yeah, but it's dumb."

"Please share." You urged, "it is vital you get your sleep to be proficient in trials."

Quentin felt his finger clam up. He hadn't really spoken about Nancy before to anyone in the fog, and quite frankly, he really didn't want to. But knowing you, if he didn't share what he had been thinking about, then you would never go away.

"When Freddy was constantly harassing me and my friends, there was this girl." He started, his mind wandering into a haze of broken memories. "She was warm, funny, a fighter- the coolest person you would ever meet. Her presence made me forget Freddy was even around." He chuckled, remembering the small moments between him and Nancy.

"Back home when we thought Freddy had died, we became a thing. Ever since those nights on Elm Street, we would always sleepover at each other's houses. We were paranoid, but being around each other brought us both comfort. Well, for me at least. I was always the one that was supposed to keep her safe, but she always made me feel safe."

Quentin smiled, "She was amazing."

The male let his mind wander, reminiscing about his time with Nancy. How long had it been since he last saw her? How was she doing? Although Quentin hated being in this realm, he was happy it was him and not Nancy.

"Unfortunately I can't bring that person here to this realm." You replied, causing Quentin to look up at you, alarmed.

"No, that's not what I want! Even if you could bring her here- that's the last thing I would want to happen!" He exclaimed, his heart aching at the thought. "Anything but that."

Burying himself in his arms, he mumbled. "I just miss not being alone."

So that's what it was.

"Well, would you perhaps want me to stay? Another presence in the room might make you feel safe from the Nightmare. You already know he can not leave the killer's side of the realm, but if it brings you peace to have someone watch over you, I can stay until you rest."

Quentin really, really wanted to decline. Although he's known you for quite some time, he didn't really know you, know you. It would be like a stranger watching over him as he slept. But, you were his only option. He didn't want to bother anyone anymore with his restless condition, and if having you in the room as he slept would keep him from bothering the other survivors, then so be it.

Quentin met your eyes and gave a hesitant nod.

"Then, please." You motioned towards the bed, "Get some rest."

Quentin reluctantly laid back in his bed. Settling under the sheets, the brunet motioned over to the desk and chair next to his bed. "You can sit there if you want."

You looked back over at the desk, and nodded. As you pulled the chair from the table and sat back, Quentin took his time setting himself back into a more comfortable position in the sheets. Although he wasn't the most comfortable in his jeans and jacket, he refused to be any more vulnerable in front of you than he already has been.

Closing his eyes, the tired male tried to relax.

Key word: tried.

While he laid in silence, he could feel your eyes bore into him, studying his movements like an animal in a zoo.

He furrowed his brows, "It's hard to sleep when you're staring at me."

"I apologize."

Another moment of silence, but this time, he could actually feel himself relax. Your strong scent of fresh pine still lingered in the air, making him forget about any thoughts of the dream demon. The only thing he could think about was your scent and the ghostly touch of fingers on his face. Before drifting off to sleep, Quentin looked over at you.

You stared out at the window, the darkness of the wilderness reflecting in your eyes.

He wanted to thank you for staying with him. But he couldn't.

So as he fluttered his eyes closed, the last thing Quentin saw was your silhouette. And for once, he allowed himself to finally relax for the first time in a long time.

Walking down the pebbled path, Feng Min wandered around aimlessly as her mind went back to the previous discussions with the others. She couldn't stop thinking about it ever since Yun-Jin brought it up.

Was it really possible to change you?

She didn't know, but she wanted to give it a try. All the facts point to you being nonhuman, obviously, but a nonhuman that didn't pick either the survivors or killers. You were a loophole, the perfect bug in the game, and she hadn't realized it until now.

Being a competitive gamer, Min wasn't one to give up on a challenge so easily. She strived to strategize, to succeed, and prove others wrong. So what if some of the others didn't believe in their plan? She was determined to change you and escape. Even if she had to do it alone, so be it. She was ready to leave.

Walking by the rows of cabins, Min caught sight of familiar [hair color] hair, causing her to halt. Speak of the devil.

You were carrying around bundles of sheets, walking into each cabin for a few minutes and shortly leaving afterwards. This was one of your routines, she noted, watching as you left Felix's cabin and walked into Quentin's.

For being a creature created by pure evil, you were surprisingly clean and maintained a perfect posture. Always doing tasks scarily quick and often appearing out of thin air. You were the perfect being, and Min often wondered if you were created that way or if that was something you learned. Did you even want to learn? Or were you just created perfect? Did you ever have any stray thoughts?

Maybe she should ask? No, she should wait for the others. They have yet to decide how to go about talking to you. They wanted to first recruit others, see how you interacted with all of the survivors, before setting up a plan.

Still, she was curious to know more about you.

Suddenly, Min heard shouting. Her eyes gazed upon Quentin's cabin with a raised brow. From the sounds of it, Quentin had been yelling at you. She couldn't really hear what about, but as soon as the shouting came, it went. Leaving nothing but silence to fill the air. She didn't really care what happened in there. If anything, you would just go back to what you were doing like how you usually do when dealing with either Meg's temper tantrums or Nea's bullying.

The black haired woman crossed her arms over her chest, and she waited.

Soon you would leave that cabin, moving on to the next, and continue your routine.

Or at least that's what she thought. But as time passed, you never left Quentin's cabin, leaving Min standing there confused and surprised.

Scratch out what she just thought. She did care. What happened in there? Why didn't you leave Quentin's cabin? What're you two doing in there? And how were the two of you associated?

Thinking about it now, Min realized that sometimes when she lingered around the campfire, she would often see Quentin go to the medical cabin, uninjured. Was he going there to see you? If so, then why? She knew Dwight would often see you because he had a crush on you, it was obvious. Well, it was obvious to her at least. But you and Quentin? Who else were you associated with?

Survivors in the realm often worked together, all of them were fighting the same fight, so there was no reason to keep secrets, right? Well, she thought that. But as she stood in the middle of the path, thinking over all the other survivors in the realm, she realized most of them were strangers. She truly didn't know some of them outside the trials.

Min hummed to herself. She didn't know Quentin all that well, but if you and him had some kind of association, maybe mentioning him to the others wouldn't be so bad.

Noting that for later, Min didn't care to stay any longer and continued on her path.