Dead by Daylight: Stories from the Fog II | English

Feast or Famine

Killer: The Famished

Lore:

It came from the swamp.

Fabian, along with three strangers, ventured into the mysteries of the Backwater Swamp, a place steeped in stories ranging from abductions to cannibalism. The muddy ground of the drained area allowed only for limited mobility, something the blonde man with tattoos frequently complained about.

Fabian had met his companions online. He had recently developed an interest in urban exploration, but abandoned hospitals and hospices seemed less thrilling. What truly got his blood pumping were deserted territories. He had already visited an old mansion whose largest mine once buried dozens of miners alive. But as a student without wealthy parents, he couldn't afford to go alone, which is why he was accompanied by these strangers—a blonde man from Norway, a bald man from India, and a young brunette whose name he kept forgetting, a bad habit especially when dealing with attractive women.

The group began their journey around midnight, guided by the bright light of a half-moon that illuminated the muddy path. The air smelled stale, making it hard not to gag. Various rumors surrounded Backwater, offering explanations for the numerous strange occurrences. Some spoke of vengeful demons trapped beneath the earth's surface; others of occult beings from other dimensions. The reason for these theories was the black fog, a phenomenon still seen today as a bad omen. And on that night, the fog gently drifted over the ground like a shallow puddle spreading across the swamp.

In the distance, they saw light—a warm, inviting light. The light of a fiery flame.

As the group drew closer, they recognized a wooden structure, barely illuminated by the torchlight filtering through the thick treetops. Astonished, they walked beneath the building, where the stench of rotting fish mixed with the already suffocating swamp air. Fabian reached an old staircase leading upwards into the unknown. At the top, the smell was worse than ever, and it quickly became clear why to the bald man from India: Fish—partially eaten, decaying, and putrid—lay everywhere. On the ground, on wooden stands, and in stalls; this was an old fish market, possibly abandoned after the area was drained.

Despite the unpleasant odors, Fabian pulled out a notebook and meticulously noted every detail, from the rotting wood to the omnipresent fish. But as he turned to the next page, his pen slipped from his fingers, and though he quickly leaned forward, it fell through one of the many cracks in the unstable wooden floor.

Frustration overcame Fabian as he desperately scanned the darkness below, as if he had just lost a hundred-dollar bill.

At first, he saw nothing, and his companions refused to lend him their flashlights to search for the "holy pen"—another disadvantage of this makeshift group of strangers. But then, out of the darkness, something stared back. It was visible for only a fraction of a second, but the two white-glowing points were unmistakable. Fabian jumped back in shock, adrenaline briefly coursing through his veins. He unsettled the others.

The young brunette looked at him, disturbed.
A moment of silence.
Then she died.

Two enormous parts of a gaping maw engulfed her within a second, and as quickly as the creature appeared, it vanished back into the darkness of the night. It took only seconds for the Norwegian to let out a guttural scream filled with fear and pain as razor-sharp teeth, shaped like ancient spearheads, sank into his flesh and broke his bones. Spiral-shaped teeth bored into his body, leaving deep wounds. His pain lasted until the very end, after which he simply collapsed, dead.

The Indian man ran, consumed by panic and madness. Only Fabian remained, paralyzed by fear. He looked at the man by the stairs, and then never again.

Whatever this monster was, it had a voracious hunger.
Fabian took a few steps back, feeling a chill in stark contrast to the boiling terror within him.