Dead By Daylight

Part 1: Lost and Found

Bryce's legs seemed to move faster than anything, but it was like everything was in slow motion. As he tumbled by, crows were disturbed and fled from their resting places.

The growling of a beast raged behind him and a chainsaw hummed, loudly, in Bryce's ears.

Got to get it away from her, Bryce thought, as he charged into a cornfield. Stalks of corn bent and crashed to the dirt as he tore through them, trying to outrun the beast, which was catching up rather quickly.

A giant barn stood over the tips of the corn. The paint was chipped here and there, and it seemed like it could collapse at any moment. The door was scathed with teeth marks from a chainsaw, as if someone repeatedly hacked at it until it gave out and crumbled to the dust. As further evidence, split planks of red and white wood littered the entrance to the rundown building. Bryce charged through barrels of hay, leading to it. He ran between two of the gray strewn bales. A plank of wood was set in between them. As he ran through, he spun and threw down the wood. It landed with a clunk! onto the beast's head, and it roared in anger as it was knocked to the dirt, face down. This gave Bryce time to find somewhere to hide.

Cows and pigs were hung by their necks from the ceiling. Some were sliced open, blood spilling down their sides and dripping onto the floor, others were unscathed.

Bryce looked left and right for a hiding place. He spotted a locker not far down the corridor.

Too obvious. . .

He ran towards the locker, but instead vaulted through an open window. He ducked under the windowsill. He held his breath as a low growl signaled the beast had arrived. He heard its thunderous footsteps as it entered the barn.

It was like the floor shook with every step, and as they neared, Bryce's blood ran cold. Above him stood the beast. One side of his face was stretched down and pinned to his shoulder. Its black, shaggy hair stood in all directions. It resembled much of a human, but its glowing eyes disagreed with the term. If anything, it stood for "blood thirsty killer".

Bryce balled his hands into fists, knuckles turning white. A shiver slipped down his spine, as the beast looked out the window. The beast's eyes trailed downward upon the Bryce.

8 hours earlier.

The air was crisp and cold, biting at Bryce with every chance it got.

The ground was dry, indicating little rainfall. A ginormous cornfield was resting not far from him.

Bryce's eyes cracked open, not recognizing his surroundings. "Where am I?" he asked himself, barely audible. An eerie mist hung over the ground, making it hard to see at distance.

The moon above was blood-red. No clouds were present in the sky.

Bryce's breathing came out in clouds of wispy air, fumbling through the night. He shivered. His jacket was not thick enough for this weather.

His hands shook violently, wishing for warmth. He pushed himself up and shoved his hands into his pockets. Unfortunately, his hands were still frost bitten.

Bryce stood in the middle of, what looked much like, a rundown farm. The corn was shriveled and dried up. At the hand of one single blow, it would crash to the soil.

Littered around the farm, were barrels of hay. Old fence-like structures stood ten feet tall, all around the area of land. Surrounding the farm, was a stone brick wall that stood tall and mighty; probably the only sturdy structure on the farm.

Bryce turned around, but immediately stumbled backwards and toppled into the dust. What stood, tall, before him was a rusty, blood-covered, hook.

The hook's base was made from old scraps of wood. Here and there were dents and chips in the planks, but it seemed sturdy enough to hold a person. It looked like it fit this purpose, seeing the red stains across the point and base.

Bryce climbed back to his feet, and shoved his cold hands back into his pockets.

Maybe I should explore? I could find someone that might be able to help me out. . .

Bryce began to walk along the wall, in hope of finding someone or an exit.

The wall had a spiked top, preventing anyone from attempting to hop over it. From the look of the spikes, blood covered and rusted, it did a pretty fair job.

The stone was scratched with tally marks. Everywhere were sets of 5 marks, but there was one set that only had 4.

What. . ?

Bryce continued to walk, trying to push the tally marks and bloody spikes from his mind.

As he continued to walk, he found more bloody covered hooks and some contraptions, that appeared to be some sort of generator for the farm. Old lampposts were placed next to them.

Some of the generators that Bryce passed by were completely silent, while others hummed, as if have been worked on.

Suddenly, in the distance, a lamppost flickered to life. It's golden glow had a warm invitation to it.

Bryce began to walk towards it. His feet shuffled through the dirt and dust, as he made his way towards the light.

"Get down!" someone whisper-yelled. Bryce felt someone grab his hand and pull him to the ground.

"Hey! What was that for?" Bryce complained, rubbing his head from where he hit it on a nearby rock.

"Shh! Just hide behind here," the voice said again. Bryce looked up and saw a man with brown hair and dark eyes. His cheek had a small gash in it, that looked like was made with a knife. Bandages were wrapped around his left shoulder, and in the middle was a giant, red spot of blood.

"Are. . . Are you okay?" Bryce gasped, examining the bandaged area. The man placed his hand over the spot, "I'm fine. Now stay quiet!" he whispered to Bryce.

Suddenly, the roar of something inhuman rang out. The caws from crows quieted down, and they were seen flying high and far from their nesting area.

A chainsaw screeched and interrupted the silence, then the loud sound of a whack! rang out as a tree cracked and crumbled to the dust.

"Whatever you do," the man whispered to Bryce. "Don't let that thing catch you."