Honey-Comb [A Dead by Daylight Fic]

Chapter 23

"I need grain," Jed said.

"Starve," said Frank.

"Nope," said Amanda.

"I'll remember this," said Jed.

The rounds continued in strained company, cards passed between players, roads built, and settlements flourished...except for Jed's.

Evan huffed quietly in a cloud of annoyance and Honey warmed up to the strange, and unusual company of seven killers.

"I think I'm getting it," she said, leaning over Julie's shoulder.

For the first time in a long time, the MacMillan Estate was filled with laughter and games, strangers becoming quick friends over fake settlements while the terrible nature of their existence shrunk backwards into a realm of spider legs and rusty hooks. A mirror had been held up to the past and reminisced of the normalcy they had all left behind: High-school friends, artists, and writers. They were all still killers, but in a shared company that required no masks, no bear traps, reverse or not.

They could be happy with a razor sharp edge.

Even Evan had seemed to relax a bit into the company that filled his living room. Still bristling about the edges, but a bit more comfortable with the intrusion, pulling a chair up alongside the game table to watch and maybe keep an eye on Frank.

Honey noticed the viciousness in those pointed looks, the kind of gaze she imagined he often painted into the faces of bears.

It was comforting.
Because she knew those looks were meant for her.

Frank noticed, but didn't acknowledge the constant surveillance of his unwilling host. A smug smile touched his lips every time Evan shot him a glare, a half opened window to the killer's sensitivity, only cracked when Frank cast leering glances to Honey or asked a question just a bit too personal for Catan.

They'd entertained small talk, the usual questions: How old are you? What did you do for work? What are your hobbies? Any boyfriends? Girlfriends?

Honey had answered them all (30, secretary, art, no and no) and returned the questions to their askers. Frank and Julie had an apparent thing for one another, but didn't admit it as anything serious. Susie was the youngest of them there and had been interning with the Sustainability office in her school before Frank. Joey liked to drink and didn't like to talk.

Despite knowing his business already, Jed had wasted no time to jump into the limelight and entertain Honey with a rather lengthy story about the time he'd murdered a local politician twice: first in her bathroom and second in print.

He was quite proud and even had pictures to share.

Honey held the sleek little camera in her hands saying "wow" as she clicked through each frame in the same vein one might when looking at vacation pictures they had no interest in.

If that vacation were filled with corpses.

Jed cocked a brow, "Impressive right?"

"No one cares about your shitty pictures, Jed," Frank spat.

He snatched the camera from Honey and whipped it back across the table.

Jed caught it and turned the display up to see where Honey had left off. A glassy eyed woman lay sprawled on the bathroom floor amidst the clutter of a tipped over makeup tray: foundation bottles, lipstick tubes, eyeliner, and soft, egg shaped sponges soaking up the blood from white tiles.

Honey felt he hadn't offered the photos to her in sincerity. Reporters seldom do. He wanted a reaction.

Frank had no patience for it.

She was thankful for that at least. She'd had enough murder for the day and was dully reminded of her own part in it.

She looked at her hands as if the blood still stained her fingertips.

"How was it trialing with the Shape?" Julie asked.

Frank snorted.

Julie rolled her eyes. "Don't mind him," she tutted, "I've always imagined what it might be like. He's a legend. I'd kill to have had my first trials with him."

Honey opened her mouth to reply, but it was Frank's voice that answered.

"He's a fucking relic."

"63 years old and no one's ever escaped his trials" said Jed, "don't worry, Frank, you still have some time to catch up."

Frank stood up, his knees bumping the coffee table and sending roads and homes skittering about the map.

Susie jumped to collect them all, trying her best to replace them.

"I've had about enough of your shit," Frank spat, "How about I add that smug fucking grin to that photo album of yours?" His breath heaved in his chest, a deep, predatory sound, his shoulders hunched, leading with a vulture's glare.

Jed smirked, which only pissed him off more, "I'd invite you to try," said Jed, "but I'm afraid you just wouldn't get the lighting right. And I'm not a fan of filters, takes something away from the whole art of it."

Then Evan stood and the entire room recoiled.

Julie placed a hand on Frank's arm. "Alright, alright," she said sternly, "you two need to chill out."

"Is it always like this?" Honey asked.

"Yup," said Joey taking another swig.

"Let's go have a cigarette," Julie said and pulled Frank out of the room.

"I could go for one too," said Joey, rocking himself up and out of the disheveled, old couch.

"You smoke?" Julie asked.

"Nah," said Honey.

"Good," said Julie.

Susie stood with them, a nervousness touched to her eyes over being left alone without them. It wasn't the company that seemed to unnerve her, but the tension of her own Legion.

Head down, she followed after them, mumbling an apology she owed to no one.

The door closed behind Legion and from the couch the rest could hear their muffled grumblings between breaths of smoke.

Amanda shot a look at Jed, who held up his hands defensively as if he had nothing to do with the situation.

"He's going to kill you one day," she said, matter of factly.

"Probably," said Jed all the same.