Memory Logs

The Red Strings

13. The Red Strings

[ Meeting 106; Father Campbell's Chapel. ]

Over the next week (or thereabouts, it was hard to tell time in this wasteland), strange occurrences continued to happen. Meg's injuries from her encounter with the Legion took much longer than normal to heal, and when they did, they'd left scars all over her where no other injuries had. The few times she'd seen Evan since then, it seemed his body was going through something similar. It was strange how the Entity would heal her in-game wounds like any other survivor, keeping her alive for the next trial, and yet those particular wounds remained a permanent reminder of her disobedience.

The survivors, now remembering all the horrors of the previous trials, grew restless. Angry, even. Knowing the extent of the damage that had been done, and seeing how long it had been going on, they longed now more than ever to just escape this hellish world and return to a semblance of normalcy.

Oddly enough, more than a few of the killers had begun showing the same frustrations. It really did seem that the actions of both Meg and Evan had flipped the Fog upside down, and now things seemed to be rapidly heading toward a "collapse," as Jake had been saying. During one of the most recent trials, the Pig had Meg on the ground, a head trap in her hands - but instead of fixing it to Meg's face, she tossed it aside, grumbled angrily, and stalked off, just leaving the red-head there with a stab wound in her shoulder. Many similar occurrences had been happening; such as the Oni going haywire and destroying a hook in his rage rather than beating a survivor bloody, or the Wraith walking the entirety of a map cloaked and never lifting his weapon or ringing his wailing bell. He merely watched, hidden, as the survivors repaired their generators and powered the gates.

The strangest thing of all - the red strings.

The first time it had happened, Meg had been hiding in some bushes next to Claudette, both of them trying their absolute best to keep their panicked breathing quiet as the Hillbilly revved up his chainsaw nearby. The deformed killer had thrown an exceeding amount of tantrums lately, lashing out not just at survivors, but at random objects, too. Dwight recounted to the rest of them the time he'd stood by and watched in horror as the Hillbilly screamed and razed down a locker in his frustration.

And after that, he'd left him alone.

Meg felt Claudette squeeze her hand anxiously as they continued to hide, hoping against hope that Tapp and Nea were sensible enough to stay away. Suddenly she heard Claudette gasp beside her and her gaze darted over to see the dark-skinned survivor clutching at her chest in a panic; Meg's own eyes widened as she immediately recognized the object sticking out of the space where her heart was.

A red string.

Looking off into the distance, trying to see where the wobbling string led to, she bit down on her lip to keep from making a sound as she realized where the red string connected.

It was attached to the Hillbilly himself.

"I wonder if he sees it," she whispered, earning a look of utter confusion from Claudette. Although the survivors had discussed a lot of things over the campfire during the past week, Meg had never mentioned the fateful red string that connected Evan and herself. In fact, any time any of the others questioned her about the killer, she changed topic or refused to answer; she didn't feel like dealing with the disgusted looks, the protests, or the lectures. She knew how crazy it all was. She didn't need to be told.

Meg frowned slightly. "The red string. It's connecting you to..."

Claudette began hyperventilating, and it took Meg settling comforting hands on her shoulders to calm her down and keep her from succumbing to a full panic attack. "Does that mean I'm going to die?" she whispered, horrified. "What does this mean?"