Welcome to Gaia! ::

Journal entry 2

These trials never get easier. The constant fear of being caught or chased, the pain of the weapons hitting you or that crazed "doctor's" therapy. Escaping through the gates fills you with relief and if others follow, gives you company for a short time. But... Every time that damned hook tears through your flesh, you just wish for death so you don't have to feel that excruciating pain anymore..
Every time the Entity claims you, it takes a bit of your soul, spitting your body back out at the camp, fully healed expect for the phantom pains that stays with you until the next trial.

I don't know how the others can do this for so long. Nothing is real in this world. We don't sleep, get thirsty or hungry. We just.. Watch each other die or abandon each other. What sins have anyone of us have committed to be stuck here? Do anyone of us deserve to be toys for a twisted god's entertainment? This is a place for mom and dad. Not me or Claudette, Feng, Jake or any of the others trapped in an eternal game of cat and mouse!

IT'S NOT FAIR!!

I miss you, Luke.. I pray you are not in this hell with me.



The Entity's Domain

As Celeste wept, the fog around her grew thicker and the trees began to shift, causing the camp site to disappear. But the girl didn't notice it at first. The only thing that pullled her from her thoughts was the sound of neighing. Celeste jerked her her head up with red and puffy eyes and cheeks streaked with tears, to see a three eyed horse laying with his legs tucked under him beside her. The animal's face was burnt on one side, black goo and flesh dripped from the wounds.
The sight caused Celeste to jump in fear, scrambling to get away from the beast. The horse just watched her before lazily grazing at the grass.

Running past the beginnings of a carnival until she reached a dark corner with crumbling brick walls. Ducking behind a wall, the girl panted.
"W-what is happening? Where am I?"
As if to answer her question, a tomahawk sliced through the air to bite into her right shoulder. Celeste screamed at the pain as her arm fell limp. She gripped at the handle and staggered to stand as humming could be heard ahead in the direction the axe came from. It grew louder as the girl's heart began to race. She was frozen as a tall woman wearing a bunny mask bounded towards her, her own heart pounding in her ears and breathing shallow.

The Huntress swung, her hatchet cutting the strawberry blonde's stomach deep, nearly enough to spill her entrails. With the girl on the ground, whimpering, Anna scoops her up over her shoulder and started walking to a hook. Too scared and in too much pain and shock, Celeste allowed herself to be carried.
Suddenly, there were hurried footsteps then a faint click as the Russian swung at the person in front of her, but too late. She dropped the girl, clutching her eyes after getting blinded.
Celeste hit the ground with an "Oof!" She didn't have time to think. Two others helped her to her feet and got as far away as possible as the one with the flashlight took Anna on a loop run.

Once in a safe-ish place, they eased the girl down in a sitting position.
"This is going to hurt, miss," says a tanned man with salt and pepper hair. His accent was a thick Spanish or Italian, Celeste couldn't really tell.
"Here, bite on this so she can't hear you," says a dark skinned woman with a Canadian accent, holding a stick up to the girl's mouth.
Celeste bit down on the stick, still holding her stomach, her vision blurring. Nodding to each other, the man grasped the hatchet and pulled as the woman held the girl still. The blade came free with a sickly, wet sound and celeste screamed in agonizing pain into the makeshift gag, making it muffled. She felt her consciousness waning. The man snapped his fingers to keep her awake.
"Hey! Stay with us, love!" Just then, another woman's scream sounded further away, behind the chapel. Both look towards the sound then turned to one another. "I'm going to get Kate."
The woman nodded and the man ran off. She adjusted her glasses and went to work patching the girl. "You'll feel better in a few. Name's Claudette."
"Celeste," came the weak reply.
"Celeste, huh? Pretty name." At this point, Claudette just wanted to distract Celeste from the pain.

Once her shoulder was wrapped, the botanist starts on her stomach. The cut was deep, but not enough to gut her. The bleeding soon stopped and the pain faded. Claudette finished bandaging her and helped Celeste to her feet. All dizziness was gone. The girl no longer felt like passing out.

The women made their way to a generator. Claudette explained what to do the best she could. Nodding, Celeste started working on it. Within minutes, the machine sputtered to life.
"Yes! 2 more to go!" Claudette exclaimed . "Look around for them. When all of them are popped, a signal will sound for the gates to be open. We'll meet up the-"
A hatchet burries itself into brick wall just above the generator, making both girls cry out, scattering so the Huntress would have to choose her prey. Celeste's heart lept up in her throat as the humming subtly grew louder.
Of course she would be after me. The girl thought, running for all that was in her. This is nothing. Just lose her like that gangbanger from last year.. The girl ran, jumping through a window and immediately crouched underneath it. The Huntress stepped through, ducking down to fit then continued on to the end of the wall, scanning both left and right. Celeste took this as an opportunity and sliped back through the window without a sound before Anna turns around. She barely makes the frame and duck back down as the Huntress does just that, coming to the window before a loud sound of a generator backfiring echoed a good bit away. The tall woman turned her attention to that noise and stalked off.

With a sigh of relief, the girl continued the search for the remaining generators. Slipping inside the church, Celeste explored the broken down building. To her surprise, there was one. She gingerly went to work on repairing it. A few moments passed before a destressed cry sounded outside the chapel along with faint humming. Her heart started pounding once more. A louder, blood curdling scream came from inside the building, causing Celeste to startle and the generator to backfire.
"s**t!" she exclaimed, going to work. Her head ached from the rush of blood to her brain as her heart and Anna's humming became deafening. "Come on, come on!"

The machine jolted to life and an alarm blared, signaling that the exit gates were powered and were to be opened just as a strong hand grabbed the scruff of her shirt, yanking the girl off the gen then hoisted her up on a broad shoulder. This time, Celeste struggle while being carried down two flights of stairs. Once in the basement, the girl's eyes widen at the man that freed her shoulder from the axe. He barely moved,but his expression was of shock and worry.
Neither could say anything as unimaginable pain wracked her body from a cold, rusted metal peirced her back and out through her chest. Panic set in and Celeste thrashed about wildly in futile attempts to get free.



Anna stood in front of the reddish blonde, tilting her head. The little rabbits hardly ever struggle once hanging anymore. Watching this one awakened a feeling the Huntress lost a long time ago. This bunny was young. Not a little one to take home, but she was younger than the rest. Black roots quickly formed beneath the girl, faster than the male. The man spoke to her in a language Anna didn't understand. The woman growled at him then returned her attention to Celeste who was whimpering. Black, spider-like limbs hung over her. The Huntress gently palmed the girl's cheek, whispering something in Russian before hurrying out the basement, in search for the other prey. The whispers demanded it.



The limbs came down and Celeste screamed, gripping the one aimed at her heart, fighting with all her might.
"That's why you have to stay calm, love." says the man, flipping a poker chip while ignoring the pain andthe Entity forming above him. He caught the chip and slammed it on the other hand then revealed it. "Lady Luck says we're getting out of here and she hasn't lied to me yet."
Running footsteps was heard coming as the blonde and the botanist appeared around the corner and the man grinned.
"Right on time, ladies. May want to get her down first. Spider freak's treating me to dinner and a movie, here."

"You're an idiot, Ace." said the blonde as she and Claudette helped Celeste down, then all three got the man down. "The gates are open."



The survivors stealthly hurried towards the doors, crouching at the tiniest sound resembling a hum. Anna spotted them right at the gate and swung at all four. They dove and dodged, the large axe nearly missed Claudette's head, taking a lock of hair, before they escaped past the black vines. The Huntress growled in frustration and swore at the man as he mocked her. Turning, she walked to a locker to restock on her tomahawks before the arena melt and shift to resemble the Red Woods. Her woods. During trials, only fragments of the killers' territories are used. For some, the whispers are quiet afterwards, when the dark sky lighten up to resemble dawn or dusk. Never any brighter. For some, there were rewards or punishments that all depends on if the Entity was happy with them. This time, the voices were content, as if satisfied with it's experiment. The younger rabbit shows potential.

Anna walked through the familiar forest, reaching her mother's cabin. Walking in, Anna removed her mask and lace veil, revealing a beautiful face, a small scar on her cheek from one of her hunts before the bad men stopped tresspassing on her forest. While deep in thought, a playful smile graced her lips and a child-like glint in her deep brown eyes. Playing with this little bunny is going to fun.

Journal Entry 4

I don't know what is happening. The killers are getting more aggressive, targeting me right away or make my death as slow as possible. I guess it's to be expected with how quick we have been at escaping them. We have to do better. I have to do better. At least for them. But.. What's the point in it all? There is no getting out of here.. We are all dead, I fear. I don't know what any of us have to deserve this, but this is our punishment...

I'm sorry, dear brother. I can't do this anymore. I was never as strong as you.. I'm sorry to everyone. I was just a burden. I still am..



BloodWeb

Trial after trial ever since Lisa dined on her, Celeste had been moried without so much of being hooked or being with others. Time after time she was chainsawed in half through the stomach or across the back, her skull split with an axe or crushed between a boot and the ground, her entire body sliced to bits by a katana or a machete, or whittled with holes from a knife or a sickle made of a skull and spine. The girl was starting to miss the unexplained pain in the collar bone from the meat hooks. At least then she'd have a chance to escape. The bonfire was so quiet and lonely without anyone, despite the whispers growing louder and persistent. Sowing doubt of betrayal she knew weren't true. How could they betray her? They never got a chance to do anything before she was killed. Dwight even gathered enough courage to stand in the way to protect Celeste just to be shoved or backhanded away.
The others tried to distract their hunters by yelling at them or purposefully cause a generator to backfire or banging on doors, pallets and fire barrels. Nothing deterred them.

Bill and Adam resorted to chucking stones and firecrackers at the Spirit during one match and Celeste could have sworn the nurse whispered "I'm sorry" as ashen hands cut off her air way.

There has been a few times the killers saved the girl for last or chased after the others until the alarm signaling the gates can be opened.
A trial against the wraith was one of those times. He was persistent, chasing and toying with them. The group consisted of Celeste, Dwight, Quentin and David. Upon seeing the pickpocket after so many matches, Quentin and Dwight hugged her, like nearly everyone else when they saw her. They had all of the generators 90% done but could never finish them. Philip seemed to be everywhere. Scattering and working on four gens at once, only to hear a bell and get yanked off. All but Celeste was hooked twice and Quentin was the first to go, then David, but at this point, they finally had three generators going and were working on the fourth together.

The machine clicked to life as the Wraith appeared behind Dwight, hitting him with his scythe in the arm. The boy ran and Philip gave chase after a moment's glance at the girl. Celeste held her breath till he was gone then scrambled to her feet to get the last generator. It popped just as Dwight's blood curdling scream and her heart sank. There was no saving him, not after the third hook. The Entity was awaiting it's dinner and greedily took him. The girl saw the spider-like limbs descend from the sky to swallow him. She choked back tears and focused on the task at hand until the damned thing finally resurrected and the signaled blared.

Yes! She screamed in her mind, booking it to the nearest exit. Reaching her target, Celeste's hand shot out, grasping the control handle and pulled down. "Come on, come on, come on"!
Her heart began racing. s**t! The girl didn't have to look back to know he was walking towards her, uncloaked. The door slid open, but it was too late. The killer stood directly behind her, too close that she felt her head against his chest as a dark brown hand wrapped in strips of cloth and dusted in soot covered hers. Long fingers gently yet firmly curled over hers, pulling her hand free of the switch.

Everything went silent to the point her ears were ringing. Her body frozen in fear and confusion. Celeste want to flee, but no muscle or nerve listened.

"I don't know why the Great Spirit is so interested in you."

Celeste's eyes widened. He speaks?! Of course he does! The Huntress does in Russian and Krueger, Amanda, the clown, and the Doctor mocks them. At least the latter tries to. With his headgear holding his lips peeled back, his speech is distorted and the drool makes him look rabid.

"But if that is It's will.." Phillip continued. His voice was surprisingly soft and almost soothing yet cold and emotionless. "I must obey."
He brought his right arm across her chest while still holding her hand. Celeste stiffened up and started breathing faster and shallower as he held his weapon to her throat.

"No. Please, no.." She begged, her own voice barely above a whisper. "No, no, no, no. Please. Please!"
"I'm sorry..."
"Phillip!"

Her body crumpled as the blade tore her throat out, still being held up by her hand. The Wraith was still emotionless as he brought his arm back around to support her, slowly kneeling to gently put her cooling body in a resting position then tolling his bell in a manner similar to a funeral than when he cloaks.



Celeste woke up with a gasp, hearing the crackling of the bonfire. She sat up, panting and rubbing her throat as the Wraith's voice replayed in her mind. IT was interested in her? What did he mean by that and how did she know his name? Even if that was his name. That was the last thing that had came to mind, but why? The same thing had happened with the Nurse as the killer took the girl's last breath.

With a sigh, the girl reached into her jacket's pocket to retrieve a journal. The leather book was the only sign of human life the very first day she woke up here and since then, she's been finding peace writing and drawing in it. Every ten pages or so, there were diary entries, but for the most part, it was mostly notes. Celeste started writing, using some charcoal she stashed within it's pages. On a blank page next to a sketch of the nurse with "Sally" written by it, the girl creates a dossiers on the Wraith.
After some time, she went back through the 'profiles'. Michael Myers, Freddy Krueger, and Amanda Young were in great detail thanks to Laurie Strode, Quentin Smith, and Detective Tapp. Going off on their stories, Celeste had to wonder why Quentin was here instead of the Nancy girl he speaks fondly of.

Her thoughts were interrupted as the forest began shifting once again. With another, exhausted sigh, the girl stashed the book back in her jacket while concrete walls form and the smell of sterilizer and blood filled her nostrils. The scent of a hospital... Or a morgue. Celeste instantly knew this was Léry's Memorial and the air was thick with an electrical current. s**t! The Doctor!

The pickpocket didn't even try to look for her team mates. Or even the gens for that matter. She saw no reason to since she wouldn't be alive for very long. Instead, Celeste went straight for the killer, figuring herself a better distraction.
The girl ducked inside a closet the moment sparks danced in the air. A sign Herman Carter was charging his electrotheropy. The second the door shut, Nea screamed down the hall to Celeste's right. She must have been working on a generator. The Doctor giggled as he passed the closet to track down the Swedish girl. With another scream, this one from a hit of his spiked baton, Celeste slipped out of hiding and followed, keeping him in sight while staying out of his terror radius.

Another swing and Nea fell. Carter picked her up and slung her upon his shoulder with ease, much like the other killers. The tagger thrashed, kicked and punched in an attempt to break free from his grasp, causing him to stagger slightly.
"Cuit your shuggling," he grunted, the headgear holding his eyes and mouth open distorting his speech. "I'll take care o' you."
"I don't need you to take care of me, you walking cattle prod!" Nea shouted. "Let me go!"

The Doctor giggled again, sending an electric current through her body from the small of her back where his hand rested. Nea jerked from the electrocution and fell limp.
While dealing with the girl, Herman didn't notice Jake hiding behind a gurney that held up a pallet that the killer was heading towards. Seeing this, Celeste stood directly behind him.
"Hey!" she shouted. The Doctor turned to look at her, giving Jake time to drop the pallet. He whimpered and dropped Nea. Celeste hurried over and got the tagger to her feet. Jake wasted little time to help, taking Nea's left arm over his shoulder, and rushing to safety.



Herman Carter grunted and whimpered as the pallet came down on his ribs, causing him to flinch and drop his prize. It only took a moment for him to recover. His parched eyes that begged for the ability to blink watched the survivors shuffle away, all while giggling at how bold they've become. Oh how he wanted to probe their brains to see how they tick. Moments like this made him miss his previous life at this very hospital before waking up in this miserable realm on the office floor.

Shaking his head after the three survivors disappeared around the corner, the Doctor buried that longing feeling deep in the back of his mind and kicked the pallet, shattering the wood under his blood stained dress shoe. Lifting his left hand, Herman slowly made a tight fist. The muscles from his shoulder down to his fingers tightened and spasmed as sparks danced around the limb. The mist at his feet light up from the same current as he marched after the man and 2 women. The surgical gag tugging at his lips quivered slightly as he attempted to grin, releasing the electric charge he held in his hand in a 40 meter shock wave all around him. In the room to his right came three screams.

Bingo!

He stalked towards them. The room had a pillar in its center with square, tiled tubs circling it and four closets set in the corners. But, it was devoid of life and there weren't any tell-tale signs of them fleeing either. The Doctor scanned the room before releasing another shock wave.

Nothing.

In the closets.

Herman stepped towards a furthest closet. That's normally where they attempt to hide. Reaching out, he jerked the door open, but found it empty. He slammed it shut as he spun on his heels and went for the next. As he drew closer, he heard slight whimpers. The headgear quivering slightly as Carter grins and a high pitch giggle escapes his throat, his left hand reaching for the metal door as the right hand's grip on the weapon tightens. Sparking fingers curled around the handle and pulled. The door opened a bit too quickly, clanging into his twisted face and driving the metal claws holding his mouth and eyes open deeper into the tender, scarred flesh. Nea had thrown as much of her full weight the tiny space allowed into the door as the Doctor yanked it open.

"Gah! You little itch!" Herman shouted as the woman ran, blood trickling down his face where the metal bit into the soft tissues, Jake and Celeste stepping out of their own lockers. The younger man letting the women run ahead of him.

The three scattered, attempting to make him take a moment's pause to make a choice, thus buying time two of them to get away. The Doctor didn't take long to make his choice, he wanted the tagger that hurt him. He caught his prey after several minutes and way too many pallet and window loops for his liking. During that time, two generators jolted to life.

two more to go.

He downed Nea as they ran by a hook and the rusty metal ripped through her shoulder a heartbeat later. She screamed in pain and Herman laughed.
"Told you I'd care o' you."

The girl spat in his face and held up both hands, flipping him off while swearing in her native tongue. Carter growled while wiping the saliva from his face then raised his fist, releasing wave after wave of electricity until she began thrashing in her insanity, calling the Entity even faster before an arachnid limb impaled her stomach from behind and lifted her up into the ceiling.





Celeste hugged a wall, breathing heavily when her heartbeat slowed. The Doctor chose one of the other two. With an exasperated growl, she shoved off the support and ran in search of the killer. A gen had activated shortly after the three escaped the bathroom and the girl silently thanked Feng for it. Celeste found the observation room. A circular platform with two sets of stairs overlooking staticky monitors high above, facing down towards chairs resembling dentist chairs but with leather straps to bind hands, feet, chest and head. The space below was stacked with small control systems, a pallet between two of the column of devices and a generator. Someone was working on it.

Jake!

Hurrying down a staircase, Celeste went to the saboteur's side. He glanced up, already aware of her presence as he's tightening a nut with a wench.
"Nea?" the girl whispered and Jake shook his head.
"Not since we split up," he replied in a hushed, but calm tone. "I haven't seen Feng either."
"s**t.." Celeste took in a musty breath, scanning the area before returning her gaze to the man. "I'm going to go look for them."
Jake nods, carefully returning the wench to the toolbox at his side. "Be careful. I want you back at the camp with us. Someone's been looking for you since your death streak."
She tilted her head for a second in curiosity before squeezing his shoulder and running off.

Celeste heard Nea's screams just as Jake's gen and another on the far end of the hospital turned on and found the girl flipping off the Doctor. Seemed like he didn't appreciate it for he face camped the hook while sending her into madness with his electrotheropy. The pickpocket hollered and banged to get his attention off of the tagger, but was met with "Wait your turn." Celeste looked at Nea as the Entity took her, apologizing then took off running the way she came.

When the heartbeat slowed again, Celeste ducked behind a gurney to give her muscles a short break. It wasn't very long until the rhythmic thudding started again. The air tingling with static. She had to clap both hands over her mouth to keep from screaming as footsteps echoed down the hall, drawing ever closer. Herman Carter's form loomed over her from behind the gurney. Celeste shut her eyes tightly, fighting back another scream as her head pounded within her skull, the faint whispers she had been ignoring the entire trial grew louder.

"There you are!" Carter said, throwing back the gurney. At that, Celeste grabbed her head and screamed, kicking off the tiles to book it down the corridor, sending the doctor into a fit of laughter. I know 'hat you're doing, girl! Uying tine for your friends. Rying to aste ine. You're not! I adore laying this gane ith you! So does the Entity!"

Celeste hid inside a closet, curled up like a frightened child with her hands clutching her head. She hasn't felt this terrified since the first trial with the Huntress. She could hear the killer talking, but it no longer sounded like him. It sounded like... Her father? Her thoughts went back to the days long before the Entity brought her to this nightmare. Long before she and her brother ran away. They were very young when her parents in their drunken and drug induced stupor got angry at them for playing too loudly.

Carter's voice faded, but the girl remained in a tight ball withing the closet, desperately shaking her head. No telling how long Celeste stayed there, only to whimper as the doors opened, but it wasn't the killer or her father.

"I'm sorry, mommy! Luke and I will be quiet! I promise!"

Hands grabbed her shoulders and pulled her out of her hiding place. She coward and cried, then her mother spoke in Chinese. Her mother never knew Chinese. A hard slap across her face brought her back to reality. Feng was holding her.

"F-Feng?" Celeste asked, confused. The gamer nodded and took her hand, leading her to an exit. Her mind still swam a million miles, sorting out the delusions from reality. She had to snap out of it!

They reached the door with Jake already opening it. It buzzed and groaned as it slid open and the killer stalked out of the shadows. Feng wasted no time to leave. Jake had a hand on Celeste's back, guiding her out.

Do it! While you have the chance!

Without hesitation, Celeste gripped a screwdriver and spun around. The Doctor was really close now.

Hurt him like he hurts you all! Make Herman Carter feel your pain!

Jake halted inches from the point of no return and turned, reaching for the ******** you, Doctor Herman Carter!" Celeste shouted, plunging the screwdriver into the giant of a man's stomach. He grunted and looked down in shock. He then began to giggle that turned into full blown laughter.

"Good girl," he praised her, clapping his hands together as if dusting flour off. They sparked and her eyes widens in horror. She tried to release the handle yet, like with the Wraith, her body refused to heed the command. Jake yelled and bull rushed them, but he was a second to late. The Doctor had both hands on either side of her head. Sparks danced wildly, his arm muscles twitched as her body jerked and writhed from the electrocution. Moments later, the girl dropped to the ground, eyes bulging from their sockets, foam falling from her mouth and blackened skin smoked from her temples as Carter pulled the tool from his gut.

Jake gasped at what he witnessed. Eyes darting from the corpse to the executioner several times before passing through the threshold. He kept running until everything shifted and he reached the campfire. He fell to his kneels and punched the ground.
"God damn it!"

A seedling in a Rotten Heart

The Thompsons were finally blessed with a child after several years of trying, doctor visits, and prayers. But to their dispair, the child wasn't perfect. Yes, he had two arms, two legs, ten fingers and ten toes and he was healthy. From the chest down, the baby was normal. From shoulders up was a different story. Folds of flesh stretched from his face to his right shoulder, deforming his facial features and seemingly threaten to pull the skin from his skull if moved wrong.

What should have been pure love was nothing more than hatred for this innocent boy. All throughout infancy, Evelyn and Max ignored his cries, hoping and praying for him to cry himself to death. Even resorting to having the farmhands to tend to him who all dubbed the baby "Maxie" or "Junior" since his parents didn't have the decency to name him.

On night, the father got so angry after getting woken up in the middle of the night that he took a stapler to the child's head. Maxie fell quiet. Satisfied that they were finally rid of their abomination of a son, Max Sr. went back to bed.
To his horror, the infant stared back at him, giggling happily while playing with his toes the next morning, tiny bits of metal still embedded in his forehead. Telling his wife what he had done, they began to prey for forgiveness.

Once the baby was old enough to eat on his own, they led him to the cellar. In a corner stood a brick wall, a starting of what would be his prison for years to come. They set the boy in the corner and began to finish bricking up the cell. He watched, giggling as if it was all a game. He thought they were finally playing with him. He hurried over to them only to get met with a harsh slap to the face from his mother, hard enough to send the boy to the floor. He stayed where he fell, crying as they finished the wall and left him.

Over several days, the farmhands that raised him up to this point tried getting him out, confronting his horrible family or get the police involved. Each attempt was ended with a shotgun blasts, sledge hammer blows or bribes until they just stopped entirely, but not before a chisel rolled underneath the tray slot.

Days turned to weeks, then months and pretty quickly years. Maxie remembered every muffled voice, every stale and rotten dinner, and every glare through hole at floor level. He was very smart and steadly growing angrier. All the love he had for his mother and father was now nothing but hatred. The boy listened to every sound, watched every tiny movement he could see from the gap or window that was barely above ground level that they had bolted shut as he chipped away at the brick surrounding the brass.

Little by little, the clay crumbled until he found a weak spot and half the wall fell away. With a victorious bellow, he was free! At long last, the moster that Evelyn and Max Thompson unwittingly created through nearly two decades of neglect and cruelty was free!

If only they had shown their son the love and care he deserved. Perhaps then they would not have met the hungry blade of a chainsaw or be bludgeoned to death the same way the farmhand that once took care of the boy did the night chisel found his grasp and their farm wouldn't be bathed in their blood..





"Get back here, you little freak!"

Angry voices pulled Max out of his trance. Looking up from the chainsaw that he was blissfully cleaning while sitting in his father's plush, armchair with the radio softly playing. Turning the music off to be certain he had heard right. There were more shouts that quickly followed by a shriek. The tall, disfigured man stood, grabbing a hold of his prized device while doing so in a quick motion. With only a few heavy strides, he was throwing the front door open and soon standing on the front porch, overlooking the cornfield.

There, just beyond the corn, by the combine harvester stood a group of men. Max let out a deep, beastial roar as he revved up his chainsaw and sprinted straight towards them with it raised over his head at an inhuman rate. How dare they tresspass on His farm?
The men heard the machine revving and looked up to see the hillbilly coming at them. They quickly turned tail and ran, but Max was too fast for them. The teeth of his saw blade chewed through one's back and stomach, the he slammed another on the ground and brought a heavy boot down upon it, before chasing the remaining four.

It didn't take long before Max returned, wiping blood from his face with the back of his wrist. Getting to work picking up the bodies to stash them in the barn like he did the Thompsons, he noticed something curled up. Was this what the men were after? Curious to know what it was, the hillbilly kicked it. The bundle groaned then curled up in a tighter ball, whimpering with hands covering it's face and head.

"I'm sorry!" it cried in fear and pain. "I promise to be good!"
Max tilted his head as he listened to the tiny voice. Reaching down, he pried the child's arm from their head.
"You.... Like me?" He asked the best he could, despite never being properly taught how to speak while looking at the small hand in his massive one. Max took note that the child was missing a finger. There were no signs of amputation, like it never developed. His gaze followed the hand down to the arm, then shoulder to finally rest on the cowaring child. It was a girl, no older than eight and covered from head to toe in bruises, scars and filth. The grimy white dress hanging loosely from bones protruding beneath skin from melnourishment and black hair all matted up. The next word to leave his lips was one he has heard his entire. "Unwanted?"

The girl was still on the ground, frozen in fear as she gazed up at the hillbilly. Her right eye swollen from the fresh beating the men had dished out before getting cut down. She gave the twisted man a short nod and was hoisted to her feet roughly despite Max trying to be gentle.
Soon, she was in his arms. He bent down to retrieve his chainsaw once he had a secure grip on the girl. Her green eyes went even bigger at the sight of fresh blood on the wricked machine. Throwing her arms around his thick neck, the girl whimpered as she tried to make herself small against him.
"No cry.. You safe now, little one."



It had been a year since the day Max broke out of his prison and took revenge on those that locked him away. It took months for all of the rage to disperse. Months of nearly collapsing the house and completely massacring anything that moved.... Old habits die hard. But, he found a productive way to spend his time when nothing ventured onto the farm. Repairing. Max was brilliant when it came to tinkering. Fixing near impossible things. The radio, TV, the combine and the washer and dryer.. Okay. Maybe not the washer and dryer. He couldn't figure out how to work them, so he took the sledge hammer to them. Suckers came out smaller than any compacter could do and he was stress free that entire day.
Now, he stood in the doorway, holding a child that he could easily crush without a thought. Max limped inside the house, elbowing the door shut before dropping the chainsaw in his father's chair and carrying the girl upstairs to the bathroom. His grip loosened to let her slide down to the floor then he points to the tub.

"Clean up.. If want to.." the Hillbilly said before limping out the door, leaving it open. His heavy, uneven footsteps trail down the hall and into another room where grunts and deep bellows of annoyance sound.
The girl stayed frozen, thin arms crossed over her frail body as she slowly turned to look at the tub. Her attention snapped back to the door as Max hurried by and tossed a lavender article of clothing and a hairbrush that clatter across the floor. The action caused the girl to flinch and Max make a sound of distress. He then hurried back down stairs, leaving her alone.

A trembling hand picked up the fabric and admired it. It was a silk blouse with lace around the collar. As the girl lifted the garment, two white ribbons fell to the floor. One was a hair ribbon, the other a much longer and wider one to be used as a belt. With another glance at the door, the child gently closed it and climbed in the tub.

Once clean and the knots removed from her hair, she made her way down the rickety stairs and peaked around the corner to see the Hillbilly watching TV, laughing in the most ridiculous way.
"T-thank you, s-sir.." Her voice sounding tiny against the actors on the show. Max quickly stood, lifting his chainsaw from his lap and stared at his guest. His sudden movements scared her and she hid further behind the wall. His lips twisting in a goofy grin, Max limp-sprinted to the kitchen, setting the machine in a chair and sloppily ladled the food he had 'cooked' on two plates. Turning and placed them on a table, the man excitedly waved her over. Taking small steps, the girl shuffled her way towards him, still frightened of what he could do to her. His eyes seemed to sparkle upon seeing her wearing his mother's blouse as a dress, a ribbon tied in a neat bow around her waist and the other holding her hair in a ponytail.

With one step, he stood in front of her, lifting her up as gently as he could and sat her down at a chair, opposite of the saw. He then joined her and began eating, slopping food everywhere. The child hesitantly started eating as well. To her surprise, it tasted better than what the men that bought her used to feed her. At least it was warm, despite the meats being a tad bit raw. Once she finished, he happily offered her seconds and thirds, until she couldn't eat anymore.
After dinner, she cleaned up as Max watched in awe, having never been taught.
That night, Max searched through the dresser drawers for something. He grunted in victory and presented a nightgown that was far too big, but the girl gladly took it and dressed into it. He then lifted her up and placed her in bed before climbing in on the other side. Pretty soon, he was fast asleep, snoring like a buzzsaw. The child watched him for a while then scooched closer to him before drifting off, all uneasiness slowly slipping away.



A few weeks had passed and the girl no longer feared the Hillbilly. Instead, she loved being around him. Rather it was sitting in his lap watching TV or listening to the radio, running from him in play or watching him tinker with his chainsaw or tractor. She would grin every time he ruffled her hair for getting the right tool. His speech and cooking skills were improving as well. Although Max still acted like a child despite being 20 years old due to the neglect that stunted his growth. Max took care of her, protected her and they gave each other the love neither had with their families. At night, he would curl around her small body with an arm draped over her like a mother bear protecting her cub.

For once, finally after so long, he was loved.

The boy bolted upright, his breathing was labored as he searched his body for wounds. even taking his shirt off, but found nothing. Lucas would have thought it all a dream if not for the tackiness of drying blood where the meat hook tore through his shoulder, the slash at his back. and the stab to his stomach.
"What the ********?" he gasped, shaking his head.
This was not normal. All of this had to be a nightmare. Trees just don't morph into walls and injuries don't heal faster than blood dries. None of this made sense. Pushing himself away from the log, Luke stretched the soreness out of stiff muscles then began walking towards the tree line, stepping deeper into the forest. He needed to get answers one way or another.

For hours, the boy walked. The orange of twilight peeking through the canopy of the dark forest. He thought it odd since the last he tried exploring, the camp back into view by now, but it didn't. Nothing but trees. Birds cawed above and ahead of him as something scurried away to his right. His body tensed up as adrenaline builds at the unknown.
The woods soon broke into a clearing. A Japanese style manor loomed beyond the bamboo stalks just past the tree line. Lucas continued onward. The grounds of the estate was overgrown enough so for the survivors to hide and candle light flickered within the lamps scattered about, casting dancing shadows.
Crossing the bridge over a koi pound, the boy peered down at the dark water. Shapes swam beneath the surface, close enough to reveal the once beautiful carp were now deformed. The long, lace-like fins of the butterfly koi were in shreds and all of their scales looked rotted or burned. The sight churned his stomach, but Luke pushed on, approaching the house. The wood of the engawa creaked beneath his weight. With a nervous hand reaching for the shoji, the boy slid open the paper door. The inside of the house was surprisingly bright due to the 'natural' light from outside. Faint crying could be heard further in. Concerned, Lucas ventured forth, tracking dirt on the floor as he ran through the house in search of the distressed person. Reaching one of the inner rooms, he found a girl no older than himself, kneeling in front of a small alter beside a broken staircase. The girl wore a pink kimono top with a black skirt and her hair tied up in a bun.

"Miss? Are you alright?" Luke asked as he cautiously approached her. The balcony above was broken as if something had fallen through it as shattered glass littered the Tatami mats. The girl then spoke but the boy didn't understand.





"He slaughtered her," Rin Yamaoka wept in front of the alter, as if asking for forgiveness. "He was doing the same to me.. I had to stop him." The boy she was speaking to couldn't understand her. No one could in this dark place, except for Adam Francis. The Jamaican man was her favorite teacher at the collage. Even if anyone spoke Japanese, would the Entity let them communicate? As she stood and turned towards the boy, Rin felt herself changing. Her clothes began deteriorating, leaving strips of cloth wrapped around her chest and hips as wounds opened up her side and severed her arms and legs in several places. Bits of glass and metal worked their way through her skin, embedded in her collar bone and hand from her fall off the balcony. Black hair tore free from the bun and floated about her head as if she was in water and her brown eyes grew milky white

The American watched her transformation in horror. The student called upon the darkness in her final moments and the Entity twisted the girl into an onryō to take vengeance on her father that had so brutally killer her and her mother before whisking her away to it's realm where she would carry out it's will.

This boy would be her next victim as the estate transmuted into Autohaven's wretched workshop. The smell of blood mixing with oil and rust was at its thickest here due to it being a repair garage on the edge of a junkyard. The spirit despised this place almost as much as the Wraith. To her surprise, Lucas never moved. Taking opportunity, Rin swung as her katana materialized in her hand. As if waking up from a dream, the boy jerked back, tripping over scrap metal in the last second dodge and falling back into a pile of crushed cars. With a snarl, the Spirit slashed at him once again. The blade ricocheted off the pile a hair's length from his head, causing her to stagger slightly. It didn't take long for her to recover and she struck again. Steel slicing through the boy's clothes and skin like paper.




Luke was frozen during the girl's transformation that he didn't notice the change of scenery until he shifted his weight at the last moment dodge and he fell upon crushed metal. His eyes widened at the Spirit's second swing. When the sword clanged right by his head, the boy scrambled over the pile, crying out in pain as the weapon made contact with his shoulder blades. He staggered but remained on his feet as he ran. Or at least tried to. Another sharp pain to the hip sent Lucas toppling to the dirt. His fingers dug into the soil as he crawled.away. With a soft footstep, Rin was at his side, lifting him upon her shoulder. The boy thrashed, the gash in his back wracked his body with searing pain, before the familiar tearing of metal through his shoulder. Once his weight was thrown on the hook, Lucas screamed then let his body go limp. He felt like his collar bone was being ripped out but, didn't know what else to do with her standing right in front of him. Luke watched the Spirit as she twitched then his eyes widened when there was a sound of static and she suddenly disappeared.

A few moments passed, a dark skinned man with a tan overcoat runs to the boy, hoisting him off the hook. Luke groaned as his feet touched the ground. To his surprise, he was able to stand. The pain remained, but the one in his hip had dulled enough for him to move more than just to crawl.
"This way," whispered the man in a Jamaican accent, leading Lucas towards the decaying building. Once inside, the man got to work patching the boys shoulder. Grimacing, Luke dared asked about Celeste.

"Hey.. Have you seen a girl? My age with same hair but longer?"
"No, sorry. At least in this trial." The man holds out a roll of gauze he used Lucas' back. "Name's Adam."
Luke took the gauze to wrap his hip. "Lucas. The girl is my sister, Celeste."
Adam nods. "I'll keep an eye out for he-"

He jerked his head and clapped a hand over the boy's mouth, pressing themselves against the wall as the same static sound whooshed by. They stayed like that until Adam, was certain the Spirit was gone.

"Sorry. She's blind when she phase walks."
"Who is she?" Luke asked as he followed the man
"Yamaoka Rin. She was my best student before the tragedy."
"What tragedy."
Adam stopped and pointed to a generator before continuing. "Police were calling it a double murder suicide, but seeing Rin as she is.. My guess, Rin's spirit killed her father after he killed her and her mother. We held a memorial for her. Then a week later, the train I was on going to work derailed and I woke up here."

The pair knelt down and begin working on the generator.
"What about you?"
Lucas glanced up from his work at the teacher. "Cell and I ran away from home after dad tried to rape her, found an abandoned house to spend the night and found myself here, without my sister.."
"I-I'm sorry. I'm sure she's alright."
Lucas nodded and both fell silent until the generator popped.





It had been a while since the first gen activated and two more followed. Only two more were left and all been quiet. Rin searched, listening to her master's whispers until she heard the living's breathing within a closet and a caw of a raven. Yanking the door open, the Spirit found an exhausted looking boy. With a growl, Quentin was being dragged to a hook and hung up like a slab of meat. He cried out in the initial pain, but then went still like all the other survivors at this point. All knowing that struggling only speeds up the sacrifice. Rin heard the boy whimpered as she walked away before catching a glimpse of a dark blue blazer with a light blue trim running behind a pile of crushed cars. The spirit twitched and ran, the surroundings grey-scaled and blurred. While phase walking, Rin's hearing heightened along with her speed to make up for her vision lost.





Feng ran until the static grew louder. Ducking behind a wall of scrap metal, the gamer covered her mouth to stay as quiet as possible. Once the static passed and Rin's body appeared a good ways off, Feng ran back to work on the gen she and Quentin were working on, passing the boy without noticing until he called out. With a growl, she freed him and they finished their original task. Their heads snapped up when they heard Adam getingt hooked for the first time. It was close.. Real close. The boy's gaze returned to Feng and his eyes widened.

"F-Feng," Quetin struggled with the warning as the machine roared to life and the gamer's back was sliced. She leaned on the engine before shoving off, but the action was too slow. The Chinese girl was crippled and slung onto a ghostly shoulder.
Quentin ran, but not before receiving a gash to his chest.

Adam swore as he dangled. He wanted to attempt escape, but knew the odds were against and he was never much of a gambling man. Feng's scream told him that she was up and Quetin running to him, holding the front of his ribs. The boy didn't get far before a katana blade stuck out of his chest, then fell forward. Rin standing behind, having shoved him off and went into a rage, carving him up. Adam's eyes widened in horror as he realized they've all been hooked once and yet she's able to kill with her own hands.

"Rin!" The teacher called after she butcher his teammate. The Spirit looked at him, even moving to stand in front of him as he spoke in Japanese.
Luke took the opportunity to rescue Feng. The teacher and student conversed for a few moments, until the gamer was lifted off the metal. Her body twitched and Adam yelled the warning. The two hurried into hiding as quickly as possible.

They weren't quiet or quick enough...

Rin appeared, swinging. Catching Lucas. Feng dropped a pallet on her in an attempt to stun her in mid swing...

The Entity had other ideas..

The pallet shatters upon impact and Feng earned a punishing cut to her leg, sending her tumbling to the ground just to receive the same fate as Quentin. Lucas ran back to Adam during the mori. He reached up as static filled his ears and cold steel pierced his back through his chest, clutching the Adam's overcoat..

"8... 9... 10! Ready or not, here I come!" called a 7-year-old Celeste, giggling as she uncovered her eyes. With their parents passed out in the Livingroom surrounded in glass bottles, the Thyne twins decided to play a game of Hide and Seek without a chance of being punished for being loud. The girl searched all around for her brother, careful not to step on any needles.
"BOO!" the boy exclaimed as his sister approached his hiding spot under the stairs, playfully tackling the girl. They both giggled and started chasing each other before returning to their bedroom to play more with the few toys they had.

The door suddenly slammed open as their father staggered in.
"Come here," he slurred, roughly grabbing Celeste by the arm and started dragging her out of the room.
Lucas quickly grabbed his father's arm as the girl screamed, begged and struggled. The boy's teeth suck into the man's flesh, drawing blood and causing him to bellow in pain.
"YOU LITTLE s**t!"
Luke was then met with a backhand followed with being dragged by a fist full of hair. Celeste followed, begging her father to let him go.

Their mother stirred from the racket and looked up at her husband with bloodshot eyes.
"What the ******** now?"
The man picks up a half-full bottle and forces the boy's head back. "You think yourself a man?!" Opening the bottle, he starts pouring it on Luke's face forcing him to drink the whisky.
The boy coughed sputtered as he struggled to breathe, feeling like he was drowning, while the alcohol burned his throat. Celeste screamed for him to stop, trying to pull her father away just to be grabbed by her mother.
"You want to scream?" The woman reached for the cigarette on the coffee stand, brought it to her lips and lit it while holding the girl. "I'll give you something to scream about."
The child screamed at the top of her lungs as the lit cigarette branded her skin. Soon after, both children were let go as the parents laughed.

Years later, they were finally free from the torture, but they couldn't escape the fear. The fear of being caught and separated or killed. What if they couldn't find a place to sleep or food to eat? What if they picked pocket the wrong person?

That last fear almost came true when Celeste was hit on by a street gang member a year after they left their home. The flirting did buy time for her to swipe the wad of cash, but made it difficult to get away. When she was able to, it didn't take long for them to figure out what had happened and chased them. The girl was able to lose the gang by jumping a pile of debris and hiding behind it until they passed.





Lucas opened his eyes once he noticed the strum of a guitar and Kate Denson and Jeff Johanson's singing all stopped. Wondering why the celebrations had been cut short, the boy sat up from the log that was his bed to see Feng emerging from the trees, looking back behind her. Moments later, Jake stumbles into the camp.
"Damn it! We almost got her out!" he exclaimed with a shaking breath while punching the ground. The gamer helped the survivalist to his feet. Jake looked up at Luke, tears of frustration and anger building at the corners of his eyes. "We were right there at the door! She suddenly took the screw driver, stabbed him and that b*****d fried her!"

The Thyne boy's eyes widened as the other survivors cringed. They've all been on the receiving end of the Doctor's mori more times than they care to count. Lucas stalked by Jake and Feng into the fog without a word.
Meg shared concern with everyone before following after him.

The group searched the fog for what felt like hours. No one but Lucas ever ventured very far from camp. Even still, this felt different. Eerily quiet. Not even the crows stirred as if the Entity wasn't present.
"This is unnatural," said Jake, looking up at trees. "Even for this place."
Everyone nodded in agreement, feeling uneasy.

A snapping trig broke the silence as a looming figure stepped out behind a tree, causing the survivors to jump and shine their flashlights. Evan MacMillan grunted at the blinding light, but didn't make a move towards them. He just stared at them, clutching bear trap. Shouldering his cleaver, he spoke. "You shouldn't be roaming out here."
The survivors huddled together, staring at his featureless white mask, unsure what to do or think after hearing his clear, stern voice. All they could do was watch the Trapper as he turned and disappeared into the forest.

The trees soon twisted and melted away around them, forming brick and wooden walls. The smell of dead leaves and rotten cattle filled the air on the Coldwind farm. Musky and stale. The revving of a chainsaw told Lucas they were up against either the Hillbilly or Cannibal. The tall, twisted figure that stalked by the tractor which the Thyne boy hid behind confirmed it to be the former. There was soon a scream and the hillbilly now carried his prey upon his shoulder. Meg kicked and squirmed to get free, punching Max's hairy and protruding spine, wishing she had a shard of glass or splintered piece of wood to drive it into his blistered flesh.
Lucas held his breath, mustering his courage. Sneaking around the farm equipment, the boy worked his way to a nearby hook to cut off the staggering killer that Meg was tossing around due to her wiggling. Frustrated with the situation, the Hillbilly growled and swung his sledge hammer at the interfering survivor. Luke ducked to the side at the last minute, causing the weapon to hit empty air and buying time for the girl to break free. This only infuriated Max even more. He roared and revved up his chainsaw, charging for the fleeing pair.

Meg and Lucas split away, forcing the killer to choose his victim. Max obliged, chasing the Thyne boy for costing his prey. His experience on the street served Lucas well this moment. He vaulted a window of a broken wall just as the Hillbilly caught up with a hungry, buzzing blade. Sparks flew by his head as the chainsaw bit into brick. The boy crouched underneath the window and crawled along the wall while the twisted man stepped through the opening until he reached the corner. Once on the other side, Lucas took off running to catch up with Meg and the others.


{}{}-{}{}


The trial dragged on. Max was relentless, not giving them time to breath let alone heal each other. All the female survivors were hooked twice. The red-headed boy was his biggest threat. The Hillbilly could not down him and that angered him. He became reckless, relying more on his chainsaw, running into more walls and missing more swings. The more Max messed up, the angrier he got which caused an endless domino effect. The final straw was the middle finger the red-head girl held up as all four survivors escaped.

"WORTHLESS!" screamed voices in his head. Voices of his mother, father and chief of police mixed with squeals of pigs and moos of dying cattle. "Should have stuck with the cows, Boy!"

Max bellowed and pound his fist that still held his hammer against the top of his skull in an attempt to make the shouts, buzzing and laughter to go away and in his own way roared "NOT WORTHLESS!" into the damp darkness of his family farm. "NOT BOY! I HAVE A NAME!.... I have a name.. I'm not worthless.."

The Blood Web: The heart of the Fog. A place where the concept of time is warped. Almost nonexistent. Past, present, and future all playing at once. Sitting in the middle was the Entity, the creator of this perverted reality that is the Fog. It watches the infinite timelines and waits. Picking and choosing who to draw in to be its new players in it's sick and twisted games. Normally, it just observes it's victims, but there are times it... "Pushes" them toward it's intention. One such incident: A Babylonian priestess by the name Adiris.

The Entity has been watching her throughout her life. From the time she was abandoned at the steps of the Temple of Purgation at the age of 5. It heard her every prayer for years. It watched in amusement when her mentor turned a new leaf and tried to convince her to leave the temple with him. It saw her inner turmoil and began whispering to her, finally answering her prayers under the guise of Enki, the Sea-goat, the god of water and creation.

This strengthened her resolve. She honestly believed her purpose was finally revealed and the man that she saw as a father figure was a heretic and he had to be punished. All her life, Adiris was taught that love was pain, and she loved him, but this was what the gods demanded. The young priestess met her mentor in the dead of night like they agreed upon and brutally murdered him all while praying.

This pleased the Entity, and it began whispering to her more often, making her believe she was the gods chosen.

A plague broke out a few years later, quickly claiming lives of the other clerics and civilians. She watched them die in agony, doing what she could to help them, even cutting off her own toes. Still playing the part, the Entity made sure she felt no pain. It wanted her completely devout to it and devout she was. She wasn't aware that the plague had claimed her as well until she saw the blisters and smelled the stench of rot that even overpowered the strongest incense. As a final act of faith, Adiris and a handful of followers left for a pilgrimage. Many didn't make it but a few days. Soon, it was just her and two others taking shelter in a cave. She leaned against the rocky wall, breathing heavily as she watched the last of her followers draw their last breath. She knew this was her last night. Adiris began praying one final time. To her amazement, delight and horror, her prayer was answered in person. A cloaked figure appeared in front of her, slowly taking shape from burning embers.

The figure held out its hand, offering her peace and promising her a place she could continue her work to spread the gods will... The priestess didn't hesitate. She weakly reached out and grasped the hand. Strong, burning cold fingers griped her fingers as spider-like appendages sprouted from the figure's back the same way the figure itself appeared. The wrapped around the woman as fog flooded the cave.





Adiris woke up in the middle of the temple's alter room. The brightly painted walls and statues of the gods were well lit with braziers. Soft smelling incense filled the room. Pushing herself up on her kneels, the priestess took in the sight. Everything was peaceful. No cries of pain or stench of rot. Was it all a dream? She stood fully and proudly, then began walking out of the room. Passing a polished obsidian mirror, Adiris stopped and gazed at her reflection.
Her skin was smooth and soft. Perfect without any blisters or blemishes. She gently touched her face and laughed then began praying happily, praising the gods. The "Gods" answered back.

The Entity whispered of heretics invading her home to destroy it. The temple started rumbling, shifting. Twisting into a nightmarish husk as her skin boils and rots. The stench of rust, blood and decay mixed with the soft herb and flowery incense. The priestess' eyes went wide with fear at her reflection and of her crumbling temple. That fear was quickly replaced with rage. These heretics must pay!

Adiris grabbed her sensor and donned her ceremonial headdress as the Entity's trail began. Walls of bricks formed around her home as if they were building themselves. Stone pillars twisted, creating hanging stations with large, rusty meat hooks as strange contraptions with poles of flickering lights.

Adiris watched in curiosity as she placed a hand on the cold metal. What strange magic was this? she thought, looking up at the blinking light. During her musing, the was a pop that made her jump and cover her ears as they rang. Looking around, the priestess saw several silhouettes of the strange machines dotting her sacred grounds along with springs.
"Divine sight?" she asked aloud. She then heard whispers answering her question, explaining her part in this game.

She followed her god's instructions, passing the white silhouettes to investigate the yellow one. Another pop that cause Adiris to hiss and cover her ears once more. There, she saw movement. Upon approach, the figures were clearer. People in strange garb. Heretics. They've come to destroy her home.
She suddenly felt her stomach churn. A familiar feeling just before the rot took hold during her life. Adiris couldn't hold the bile the closer she got to the intruders. To her disgust and that of her prey, a stream of diseased stomach acid spewed forth from her mouth, covering a long haired and bearded man as a girl with short, black hair ran.

Neither killer nor survivor had time to process what was going on when Adiris swung her sensor, smacking Jeff Johansen in the face. He staggered, giving her another chance to strike, knocking him the ground.