Being a killer in that forsaken place was... entertaining, at best. Especially considering that-unlike the survivors, who were painfully aware of every second spent in that hell-the killers had been stripped of any ability to perceive rounds. They just knew they were there for a single purpose, with no capacity to question it. And they had no issue indulging in it over and over again. But one thing they all agreed on was: the food situation in that place sucked. So, let's change that. ----------- Or: The Spectre thinks it would be fun to let the killers kidnap a certain pizza guy so they can eat a decent meal for once. (Elliot domesticating the killers one cooking lesson at a time). Or or: I made a crack fic to beat up writting block and poor Elliot has to suffer (ELLIOT-CENTRIC) ----------- Also on AO3

"We are the hunters-but IT had other plans." There was something with the way Forsaken had changed. Suddenly, instead of exciting rounds, instead of killing survivors for the glee and fun of it, something happened. The killers really learn how to suffer. A mass infection. A gashing wound. A sip of sour tea. Even Pr3ttyprincess knows she's never making it out alive when she realizes that they have one life. What happens when the Forsaken killer crew fight their way through the rampageous horde of infected crawling in the shadows everywhere they go? And why does it feel like the Spectre hates them now? It's just a matter of time. "Pr3tty.. we're going to be fine." "Don't be such a sore loser!" TW: DEAD DOVE, (AKA uncomfortable topics), gore and killing (obviously) swearing THE SECOND BOOK OF ACFTYD.

"We will always be hunted down." There was something with the way Forsaken had changed. Suddenly, instead of cruel rounds, instead of killers chasing after and draining their stamina, something happened. The doors of the damned has opened for them. It has dragged them down to hell. Like an elevator choosing their ice-cold demise. A pizza throw. A block, a singular punch. A slash. A stab, a prayer to for the Spawn's control. A coin flip to your demise. What happens when the Forsaken crew fight their way through the rampageous horde of infected crawling in the shadows everywhere they go? And why do they feel like there's always something watching them? It's just a matter of time. "Chance.. are you okay?" "I'm great as ever!" TW: DEAD DOVE, (AKA uncomfortable topics), gore and killing (obviously) swearing. IF YOU ARE UNCOMFORTABLE WITH THESE TOPICS, PLEASE DO NOT READ. I AM NOT RESPONSIBLE FOR ANYTHING HAPPENING OUTSIDE OF THIS BOOK. THIS IS MADE FOR ENTERTAINMENT PURPOSES ONLY. This story is long. Take regular breaks.

Credits to YINYXD on YouTube for the cover image, check them out or they'll cut off your balls; to th0_beast on Wattpad for the inspiration on the story; to ThatCactusMan for the entire game this story builds off of! NONE of the characters are mine, and this story is simply a side project I'm doing for fun! WARNING! This story isn't just meant to explore the strange relationship between Andrew and Ivan, but to also show off more of the psychological horror of Ivan's situation! If you're looking for a quick happy ending, you'll be waiting quite a bit. I'm making this story a slow burn, and am trying to be as parallel to canon lore of the characters as I can. This story also plans to include mature themes, including VIOLENCE, ADULT ACTIVITIES, DISTURBING DESCRIPTIONS OF DEATH, SUICIDAL THOUGHTS AND ATTEMPTS, SELF HARM, and CURSING. If you're currently struggling mentally at the moment, I'd recommend you to put this take off for another time! Good things come to people who wait! This is also my first story, so don't be too rough on me y'all! I'll let you dive in now, and I hope you enjoy!