Dead By Daylight [OneShots]

The Executioner X (Child) Reader

Requested by LuaKitsune XD

Note: I wrote this fiction with the assumption of the child's age being around six to seven. The child (Female) is for me at least below ten. I have young cousins (most below ten and born mischievous) raising hell at my house most weekends so you can picture my pain, and joy obviously. XD

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His world was never truly silent. Funny how the name seemed like an irony to him.

Silent Hill.

Probably because people chose to keep silent. That the old folks never wanted to provoke dead old spirits. That they wanted to forget that such a hellish place existed.

That hell existed right on the earth. Upon the land.

He was the bringer of punishment. Of pain. Of agony. Every possible source of destruction, its form, its caliber. Everything that was known to men and could never be comprehended was known to him. He was pain metamorphized. He was judgement.

Although they all believed that he was nothing humane, somewhere, in the beast's heart, he indeed felt something humane. He was capable to feeling everything, blind to their keenest eyes. He could experience pain, he groaned each time he was hurt, he bled. He despised it, and he relished how he despised it. He felt abandoned from time to time.

Each time, the trials ended in the dark, ominous realm he had become a denizen of, the halls were believed to be left vacant, haunted.

But it was not quite correct. The creatures roamed the corridors of the Midwich Elementary, never leaving the halls quiet. The place was alive, always breathing, aching, grumbling. As said earlier, it was never silent.

The executioner, as his name said it all, was always on the guard. Every creature that entered the realm, was a sinner to his eyes until judged, and proven otherwise. There were two sided to his only coin, saint or sinner. He was adamant on keeping up to the prospects of his job. His purpose.

Dispense punishment through any means. Through pain, through misery.

Every creature that roamed the hall reeked of guilt, of pain, of sinful deeds. Either the monstrosity of his realm, or the men of the world he had left a long time ago.

And yet, sometimes, a sensation culminated through conflict. An impending doom, which he couldn't quite comprehend.

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The trial ended with the redhead going up on the hook. He remembered her name, Meg, but he never felt, lest he was obliged, to even mentally address her. She wasn't insignificant to him, but he never felt like reciting names.

He couldn't help it, he felt envious of them. Names. Names defined creatures. Identity, names were identities. He too wondered if he were to be named, what would it be. Would it justify his wrath, his brutality, his agony?

The moment the trial ended, the hooks disintegrated. The creatures rose from the darkness, starting to roam the halls, making grisly, ghastly noises. He put the great knife aside and made his way towards the dark cell he spent his time resting in, but soon, he found himself coming to an abrupt halt in his tracks.

The certain hallway was empty, but not so empty.

A tall figure stood by the end. He knew his creatures well, he knew each one of them. The ones he had slayed, and the ones that evaded him. He couldn't recall seeing this creature. The flickering lights stopped, casting a stagnant beam of light upon the creature. She was indeed not of his realm, and yet, her presence felt ominously familiar.