The Escapists

;Mine;

This one was different. First off, her brown hair was noticeable shorter; her mask was a disturbing smiling face, unlike the previous one, who had stitches all across it. Her tactics in pursuing the survivors varied greatly from the other killer.

She was stealthier and often surprised (Y/N), who already was used to listening to her environment and taking in noises others would dismiss. Honestly, it scared her. That there was someone who could blend in with their surroundings so easily. Of course, Michael was silent as well to the point where the (H/C) haired could hear the grass grow, however, unlike this killer Michael was perceptible. You couldn't just oversee him.

(Y/N)'s focus switched to her settings again, peering through the scanty window in the locker. When was the last time she was that mute? Ever since she joined the realm, she swore to herself to start all over again. To not let anyone silence her and more importantly to not let other people see her as weak or a coward. But back then, she wasn't aware of the situation she would get herself in, right?

Even her breathing sounded too loud in her ears, but the killer was nowhere to be seen. The young girl bit her lip, debating if she should go out and search for Jake or not. If they're together in a trial, she liked to be close to him; knowing that he'd guard her against any danger. Even if he couldn't do much, she liked the false sense of security.

Although she enjoyed the thrill too, she couldn't stand the aftermath. Tolerating pain for too long was impossible and if the agony wasn't so short-lived, (Y/N) wouldn't look towards a trial. Perhaps, that won't be the case anymore anyway, if there was a possibility of her standing against this killer again. At first, she liked it because it variated from everything she experienced before. But now she would rather not participate anymore.

Clenching her shaking hands into fists, she collected her spirit, which transferred into just a thought in the back of her mind, and stepped quietly outside. Usually, she would wrap her olive green jacket around her waist, but in this location, this was not an option. The snow under her feet became annoyingly loud and slowed her down even more. Goosebumps formed on her arms but she couldn't recognize if it came from the cold or if it was actually fear taking over her.

When was the last time she felt that? Must have been when she still was a child or at least that was what she thought.

The grass wasn't high and there were little places to hide; the cold wind nagging at her skin adding to the unlucky circumstances. Ormond was indeed a shit hole. Her breath visualized itself in front of her and her teeth clattered; that struck a nerve since it was just more unnecessary noise.

She started to walk towards the only large building, hoping to find some kind of shelter. However, after entering, she would have loved to return. The killer was running down the stairs - chasing after Laurie, who in response skipped over another palette; about to run outside.

(Y/N) knew that Laurie was beneficial to the group; unlike herself, who had no survival instinct. So, she did the only logical thing she could come up with and ran past the killer. Attracting her very quickly, caused her to let loose of Laurie, giving her the chance to be more productive than (Y/N). However, the (H/C) haired understood that she won't be able to play cat and mouse with the murderer.

But she didn't have to since she ran straight into a generator where Jake was currently working on. Calling his name out she collapsed beside him, while he tried to get her to speak again. But the (E/C) eyed girl was already out of breath and it messed with her mind.

Why did her heart race like crazy? What was that shock-like feeling in her limps? What made her so terrified?

At that moment, the killer got close enough for Jake to notice her too. That mask was haunting in (Y/N)'s eyes and she couldn't help but imagine what horrible things her gloved hands could do. Those hands who held a knife towards her, before Jake stood in front of (Y/N); hesitant about making a decision.

The killer charged at him while he tried to get out of her way; her body language showing noticeably the state she was in. She tackled Jake to the ground, him groaning from the impact. Before her knife made contact with his skin, (Y/N) snapped out of her overwhelming condition.

She threw herself onto the killer's back and wrapped her arms around her neck. In response she backed away from Jake and tried to shake her off of herself. He took the chance and pressed her onto the ground,  letting (Y/N) let go of her first.

Her mask was over her head and now the young girl saw what she feared so much. It was the craziness, psychosis, and sadistic tendencies. It was readable on her face; how she was able to do absolutely anything as long as she had her hands.

Not thinking over, (Y/N) reached for the knife, which slid to the side. A hunting knife, but the letters FM was carved into the handle. An electrifying feeling pumped through her veins.

Jake couldn't hold the killer down for long, in fact, she pushed him off after just a second, so both of them raised to their feet and made a run for it, still hearing her light but fast footsteps behind them.

No one of them could believe it. Even after they saw the evidence it was too surreal. „I don't understand how you can keep that“, not even Jake was able to figure out the reason behind it. (Y/N) lied on her back on a plain mattress in a blank and cold room. Her left arm was under her head while she was examing the hunting knife with her right hand. The cottage has only little rooms and most survivors preferred to be by the campfire to keep warm since it wasn't possible to make a fire inside.

(Y/N) sometimes came by but not often. It gave her peace when she wanted it, which didn't happen oftentimes. Being alone with her thoughts clouded her own mind with negativity, making her desire someone else's company even more. With Jake, she was able to tolerate being here, since he could easily distract her from all the bad things on her mind.

„Me too“, (Y/N) answered honestly, „Maybe I should give it back in the next trial.“

This made Jake raise an eyebrow as he sat down on a chair across from her. „Give it back? Aren't ya' dreaming too high, kiddo?“

He was right. Did she expect the killer to show gratitude for giving back the weapon she stole? Otherwise, it was a pretty knife and especially a sharp one. A small smile stretched across her face. It belonged to her now anyway.

Finders are keepers.