Dead By Daylight [OneShots]

The Trapper X Reader (Deaf) X Jake Park [P3]

Requested by Vampireanime5 :3

~

It was often a vague intelligent understanding, that exhaustion barely hit him, at least physically. Evan found it quite awkward, even after so long that he barely got tired. He would feel his knees become wobbly, he would find himself stumbling all the way to his bed after countless trials. He slept rarely. He did feel the need to sleep, to rest and to catch a breathe after a long back-breaking chase, especially with the load of a struggling man over his shoulders. But then, it was so rare that he felt his bones cackling within his flesh whenever he sat down, or simply lay in his bed. He would feel that unrestful queasy burn slither through his body, coil around his spine whenever he thought of a good long slumber, or how it tingled his nape whenever he turned over his soft feathery mattress.

He would have to get used to rest. Such an unusual thing...

Needless to say, it was even stranger when he returned from another quick trial all too upbeat, his spirit rejuvenated. He wasn't looking forward to jumping into his warm bed. Indeed the cool queasy breeze of wind was all too sharp to feel, but his body had hardened against harm a long time ago. Blades that once dared to penetrate his flesh now slipped past him as if he were made of even stronger metal. Metal accustomed to cruelty.

But he was far from exhausted. He was elated. He was quaint enough to understand what drew him towards his resignation for the time being.

His joy only went on to increase stagnantly as he entered the dimly lit building. With the lights turned on, the sight was precarious to note. Objects were strewn around the building, objects of all kinds known to him, or to be possessed by him. He could've gone on a rampage, if not knowing the real cause behind the storm, a quirky smirk made its way to his face. He was least bothered by the mess he could so easily take care of. An even greater challenge was raging upstairs.

The remnants of his earlier designs were demolished to scarps. The heap of metal lay in a corner, screwdrivers, metal joints of traps, nails and screws were particularly thrown into a bin, and it almost seemed like it had been stomped upon given the sunken, rather disfigured edge of it. The bin that had barely ever bin filled to brim, was now overflowing.

Such hatred was an intriguing sight to him.

Upstairs, the guttural, anomalous growls echoed throughout the corridor. Her animalistic behavior had taken a whole new turn once she was brought to his realm. Her wrists knees and ankle were all thickly wrapped by bandages. Thorns and edge of traps had pieced through the flesh so brutally the wounds were vicious, and even crueler was the bleeding. She had endured it all throughout the struggle he had to go through to drag her into her personal hell.

And yet, she was ever so adamant to flee. She picked up anything she found to be of great importance to the killer, and bashed it against the thick cemented walls. Her atypical behavior tended to make little sense to the man who stood silently in the dark corner. It was fascinating to watch how she was devoid of one truly crucial sense, and yet how her heightened intelligence made up for that. And if that wasn't sufficient enough, she was brimming with such anguish and wrath that it refused to settle down anytime soon.

The whole house was turned upside down. He had a hard time believing he was standing in the room he called his. None of the existing contents suited his preference, or the memory he had of that place. The wall was dirtied with oils he used to loosen up the joints of rusted traps, the remains of which laid in a dirtied pile in a corner, coupled with his mattress torn to shreds. It almost looked like he had let a wild cat on loose, but within closed walls, and now she was acting erratic.

And there she was, never stopping.

She banged onto the closed doors, on closed wooden windows. The large gash onto them was a proof that her struggle had reached the pinnacle of the moment when she attempted to bring it down with the heavy axe he had only watched the Russian hunter use. So heavy it was, he could see by the murky path created by the axe she had dragged upstairs with extreme efforts. But she couldn't go on forever, for the gashes were not so deep to break through thick wood, or maybe it was the obstinacy of Entity itself, refusing to lose to a mere mortal.