The Monsters' Favorite

Make Up

Inside the lodge of Mount Ormond, partially sheltered from the wind, you hid behind the bar, afraid of the wrath of the Legion. You escaped them once, and now that you're back in a trial with them, you fear what they might do to you. You've been useless all trial, and you don't think you can pluck up the courage to go looking for another survivor. All you can do is curl up in the fetal position, trembling like the coward you are. It's only a matter of time before I'm found...

Survivors were hooked, and you were petrified in fear. No thanks to you, they were eventually rescued, but time was running out. You have to make a move. The gens weren't getting done fast enough and most survivors had been hooked at least once... You rock back and forth, trying your damnedest to summon all your courage and actually do something. Crawling out from behind the bar, you scan your surroundings. Okay... It's probably fine...

You carefully make your way to the gen that's always located in the lodge. No one's touched it. Unfortunate, but unsurprising. You slowly work on it, being extra mindful of any possible skill checks so that you won't gain any unwanted attention. About half way through, someone is hooked near the lodge, the high pitched scream carried further thanks to the near constant wind. You screw your eyes shut, banging your forehead against the vibrating piece of machinery. God fucking damn it... Oh you can't do this. You fucking can't-

You let go of the gen, cursing yourself, the Entity, the Legion, and whoever was hooked. Damn them all to hell... You jog towards the entrance, anxiety gnawing a hole in your gut. Just get them and go. Get them and go. Get them an- ?!

You're grabbed as you pass a pallet, a bandaged hand covers your mouth and a knife is pressed into your lower abdomen. You panic, gripping the hand covering your mouth, while the other goes for the one holding the knife. This person's a bit taller than you, and they grunt lowly, hauling you back into the lodge. When you're suddenly dragged towards the stairs, you cry out, tears pricking your eyes. You try to bite the hand covering your mouth, but they jab the knife against your skin, blood trickling from the stab wound. You're forced into the little closed off area upstairs, and roughly shoved onto a single, dirty mattress that's littering the floor alongside other miscellaneous junk.

You curl in on yourself, trying to protect yourself from any incoming blows. A fistful of your hair is grabbed, jerking your head back. While you try to pry their fingers off, your legs are straddled, pinning you to the mattress. A cold blade is pressed to your throat, ending your pointless struggle. The killer pants, struggling to catch their breath. You refuse to look at them. You don't want to know who it is...

"P-Please... I... I-I'm sor-"

"Shut the FUCK UP!"

You cringe away. That voice... It's him.

"Don't you, you fucking say 'you're sorry'! You... do you fucking realize what you've done ..?!" Frank's voice cracks, his body trembling in rage. You whimper, screwing your eyes shut. He yanks your head side to side, causing you to cry out in pain.

"You- fuck! We... How could you ju-just f-fucking... do that to us?!" The hand that held the blade to your throat shakes violently, and you think that this is it. You're gonna die here, throat slit in the cold, abandoned lodge. He pulls once more, much harder this time. You cry out, tears streaming down your face.

" WELL?! D-Do you have any- fucking -thing to say?! HELLO?! ARE YOU FUCKING LISTENING TO ME?!" You shrink away, squealing in fear. What... How were you supposed to answer him? Of course you ran away! You don't want anything to do with them! They're killers! Not to mention, some of them are fucking underage. Why the hell would you want anything to do with them?! Just because they're all fucked up from the Entity, doesn't mean that you have to deal with it! Even though they all clearly have some care for you, as fucked as they are. And... being held like that was... nice...