Chapter Text
The first time he saw you, you were cowering in a corner of the Coldwind Farm's Rotten Fields. Trembling like a leaf with no clue about what to do there, and you obviously didn't expect him to appear out of the shadows as his bell rang.
You were the first to die after you tried to escape the deadly claws of the Entity in vain.
Another time he saw you, you already knew what to do there. Your eyes, cautious and worried, still expressed fear when he chased you, though he could already see the patterns you started to learn to use when fleeing. He noticed how you would try to lose him with every vault and bolt, only to fail miserably or run into him because you still weren't used to looking at your surroundings when running for your life. Yet, when he was looking from afar in his cloak, he noted that you'd look around you while completing your objectives or when you come to help your fellow survivors, how you could spot the slightest shift of the air because of his moves and bolt to safety. He came to the conclusion that you were the kind of person to panic when put under pressure.
And that's how he managed to kill you first.
He recognized you even after a while of not confronting each other. Your clothes changed a bit to duller tones, often picking black over color to hide better in the environment. He was surprised to see you weren't the first person to get downed this time - you who were always his first victim. He had grown so used to you being the weakling he may have felt a bit disappointed if not proud of you for improving your survival skills. He still managed to find you soon enough as you tried to reach for the first hooked victim, witnessing the life escape their form and the claws from above take their soul as you were dragged away.
You died to him shortly after, and he knew he deserved that tearful, hateful gaze you shot at him as the claws of death closed in on you.
Another time, it took him a while to see you. He figured out you were hiding in the most unexpected places of the map, in these ridiculous small corners that he wouldn't think about checking if he crossed paths with you by accident as he chased someone else. You still bolted the very moment he noticed you, and he noticed with interest the progress you had made in the chases you'd both initiate. The way you used the surroundings was smart, enough that he'd lose your tracks with the way you were confusing him in your unpredictable patterns. He also figured you were learning how to look behind you from time to time to check where he was going and despite the panic, you still managed to control most of your weird shenanigans.
You learned from the best it seemed.
But you still had so much to learn because you still died, even if you were the third victim this time.
He understood that now that you learned how to hide, you were still learning how to escape the times you happened to be found. This may be the reason why at times, you were still failing miserably because you'd run into him. Sometimes, he'd take a moment to wonder if you meant it or not, but judging by the yelps that you let out anytime that happened, it seemed not. You didn't expect it either cause every time you noticed his shadow casting over you, your expression was priceless. Especially when you got downed at these embarrassing moments, the dumbfounded look you give him makes his chest bubble with the need to laugh.
You figured that the predator himself was learning from you and your companions, because he too was getting better at mind games. He still was surprised to spot you in unexpected hiding places, but at least it was proof that he was looking more intently to find survivors.
And that trial, you accepted your fate.
He knew you were a very altruistic person. Anytime someone was hooked, you'd either come to unhook them or to lure the killer away. You were bold, he understood that a long time ago. You weren't afraid to get hits for the others anymore, or to sacrifice yourself for them. Now that you had more experience, you weren't afraid to run up to him, stop him in his chase by blocking the way, mess with him to try and get him on your ass in order to make him lose track of your friends. The worst is that most often, it worked. You were irresistible. The fire in your eyes, the courage that arbored your scratched face was so bright he couldn't stop himself from turning on you and chasing you down instead. You wanted to fight him ? Well, here he came.
You were often the first or the second person to die, but it wasn't out of ignorance and panic anymore. It was just straight up stupidity.
He was harsh. He had to recognize your boldness and huge heart. Many times you traded your life with someone else's. Even at the end of a trial when you could have just ran away, you'd go back in that hell, back to the hook where he'd be standing waiting for your hooked friend to let go and release them. He never saw someone willing to die over and over again just to make sure that their friends would still live, even when you're not sure about your only remaining friend's survival. Going through the pain for someone else, someone that you may or may not know at all... And you'd still sacrifice your own life, no matter how the rusty hook would burn your flesh in your abused shoulder, no matter how you'd resist the claws of the Entity trying to impale you... You'd do it until the end. You'd keep resisting while looking in the distance in hope to feel your friends' presence disappear in their escape. Every time it happened, your face would soften and warm up in relief and it's with a smile you'd give yourself away. He couldn't understand why you thought so little of your worth.
And he hated that.
He hated to see your kindness wasn't affected by this fucked up world. That your kindness led you to death when freedom was within your reach. That kindness cost your life every time someone fucked up.
You weren't the best survivor, that was a fact. His faculties and many victories against you told him so. He learned so much from you and your friends, nowadays he was so talented that your freedom never stopped being in a tight fit. You were definitively better than before in everything as well, but that boldness and kindness were still your nemeses. At least you learned how to handle chases better. You managed to loop him sometimes for long minutes before he lost interest or before you were downed as you tried to get through a pallet. You still managed to make him scream out in pain when you stunned him twice in a row, or drive him mad with your fucked up running patterns by taking sharp turns from time to time if he got too close to your liking with nothing to vault or loop. Because of that, he'd stop in his track anytime he missed a hit terribly. You were still screeching out of panic when that occurred though. Some things never change, it seemed.
Like the fact that you still threw yourself in the middle of a hunt to give your injured friend a way out. You still rescued them at the most unexpected times, and he had the pleasure to see you escaping more and more trials as time passed by. And while some of your companions were toxic, bloodied little shits, you were still respectful even towards him, he who killed you way too often either by sacrifice or his own hands.
Often he wondered what you were doing there with those people. You didn't deserve being here.
Then again...
Your soul was so strong and full of Hope, there was no way the Entity wouldn't want to feast on it.
And one night, as the Wraith laid down in his nest looking up at the starry sky, he realized in horror what was happening.
You were growing on him. Although he didn't want to see you in his trials, he expected you to appear in a corner and his heart would be torn between the misery of having to kill you, and the joy of meeting you again.
He didn't want to hurt you. Heck, he never wanted to kill anybody, he was known as the « reluctant killer ». His mind was broken down by the Entity, tortured beyond recognition, destroyed and reshaped into a vicious predator because he was a pacifist. A pacifist that snapped at the horrible truth that broke out in the most fucked up way. Ever since it happened, he never stopped thinking of that fateful day, the day when he found out that he'd never be the same ever again. The memories haunted him if the constant static didn't numb his mind. That static that filled his mind anytime he disconnected with his body, watching from a window his limbs move in harmful intents, his steps following others' tracking them down. It was easier this way, he figured. Numbing out senses, dissociating. That was the only way for him to accept the tragedy that happened and his eternal punishment.
It was until you came in and awoke him, blew away the clouds that surrounded his consciousness. Unlike others that managed to arouse amusement or irritation with their lack of experience or boldness, your... Your pure soul intrigued him. He felt connected to you in a certain way. You were a pacifist. Just like him. You were selfless.
That side of you first intrigued him, then made him angry. Nobody deserved your kindness. Nobody deserved your sacrifices.
And it's how he longed for your survival, even if it was him the one bringing death upon you. He hoped to see another trick from you, to be surprised like he happened to be before. He'd smile to himself anytime you managed to make him miss a hit, and grimace every time your blood spilled as you failed. That's how he prayed for you to leave at the end of the trial and not try to get that person off that hook. That's how he pleaded internally for you to escape his grip as he marched towards one of the sacrificial hooks.
That's how he watched you die on the hook with a tug at his heart.
He wanted survivors to survive. He wanted you to survive.
Hearing your cries anytime you'd get hurt or killed was something he came to fear. He could manage with the others, especially the toxic shitheads... But you... It was always too much to take.
But he had to keep on doing the job. He had to if he didn't want to suffer the consequences again.
It was getting harder when you'd try and befriend him sometimes, doing weird stuff that could be easily misinterpreted if you didn't wear the right expression or space the gestures long enough. Of course you'd try that, killers and survivors weren't supposed to talk within trials. And even if they could, the Wraith would never be able to.
He was so tempted to respond to your friendly gestures. The thought of helping you crossed his mind but...
It was against the rules.
First time you tried, he hurt you.
A second time you tried, he hooked you.
Third time you tried, he killed you.
It was unfair. It was horribly unfair. The look in your eyes was unbearable and you were right : it was horrible. But you should know better than befriend a killer, right ?
… Right... ?
You didn't try for a long while to befriend him. Long enough for him to think that you learned your lesson and would go back to your own act. At first, the monster was glad seeing you bolt as soon as you realized that he spotted you, and at the same time, it pulled at some strings. It was meant to be... Come on, Philip, this life was meant to be...
Before he realized it, he killed everyone except you. You were weeping on his shoulder when he marched towards that hatch and dropped your limp form there.
The Entity had enough sacrifices for today, at least the killer thought so when he met your glistening eyes filled with pain and wonder before you jumped in the misty pit.
Next time you were facing the Wraith, he stood there at a safe distance from the gen you were working on and uncloaked. You both exchanged a long glance when you noticed his odd behavior consisting of just remaining there tilting his head. You knew he recognized you, and he knew it as well. You reproduced the gestures you did in the past and he nodded. He watched your shoulders relax and a smile creep up on your features when you understood he was friendly.
And that's how he watched you peacefully work on that gen. That's how that being followed you around the map fixing the four others like a shadow while the other survivors were messing around as soon they understood they were safe around their killer of the day. It was strange seeing everyone smile, laugh and taunt each other in his presence, while all you did was gesturing at him to follow you to try and get some things done together. Everyone had rewards for their efforts at the end of trials, so it was fair to give him his as well. The Entity fed on Despair and Hope, on acts of kindness and violence... So the survivors had to accept spilling their blood for the killer... Which he refused and only accepted to break pallets around or chase a few towards the Exit Gates and gesture them to get out.
At the limit of the Exit, where a black wall would rise if the killer approached the border, you turned around to face him. You gestured him to follow you. Surely you didn't know that he couldn't. It was your exit. Not his. He shook his head in response.
He tilted his head again as he watched you kneeling down in silence, staring back at him with that warm smile he grew fond of even in your most tragic endings.
You were thanking him.
His heart fluttered in his chest.
The Wraith nodded in return, acknowledging your gratitude before you ran off.
It had been a long time since he felt so light-hearted. The sensation of his chest feeling wide, bubbling with fuzzy feelings was so foreign to him and still, he relished in them, enjoyed it all. Smiling to himself, the Wraith was happy with his actions. He knew it was the best thing he ever did.
And while your running form was vanishing in the misty land, something grabbed his shoulders from behind and threw him backwards... No... It wasn't a throw, it felt more like something was pulling him backwards. The sound that took over his hearing wasn't only the friction of the air against his ears, it was much, much worse. The blood-curling, drummy, ambiant sound that was ever so present in the realms that people mistook as the wind was in fact the Entity manifesting. And at this moment, it was manifesting for him, the low growl made his chest tremble in the vibrations, and if he still had hair, it'd certainly be standing up. Immediately he knew what was happening, the threat imminent and the next second as he saw his body fly feet away from the Exit Gate, a sharp pain shot up in his left shoulder, tearing an inhuman scream out of him.
Broken memories flashed in his eyes, a sick reminder of the pain he endured a long, long time ago.
Looking down at his shoulder, he realized it was a hook that he was impaled on. His stomach, if he still had it, twisted in fright. The beast didn't have time to allow the shooting pain subdue that a sound above his head caught his attention ; a sound he was way too familiar with, the one that is triggered anytime the Entity was summoned and ready to get its due. Just in time, he managed to block the pointy appendage lunging at his heart in both hands. His heart that was pounding strongly in his ribcage in terror.
At this very moment, the Killer was trying to survive.
Fighting, holding onto dear life hopelessly while the blood pouring from his wound pooled at his feet, although he could graze the grass with his toes only barely, he couldn't quite get a solid ground... He was between Life and Death, and at this moment, he could taste what he served to his victims for so long.
It was horrible. It was fucking horrible.
The fact that he was staring at this claw trying to pierce through his chest was frightening enough and the sounds of the Entity forcing its way onto him all around his form weren't helping with his panic.
Memories of survivors on these hooks fighting back the Entity's hand flashed in his eyes.
Memories of you on these hooks fighting back the Entity's hand flashed in his eyes.
He still remembered your face scrunching in effort to stay alive. He still remembered the hopelessness in your eyes as your strength ran low.
So this was what you must have felt...
His arms trembling in effort were sore, nerves burning through his arms and shoulders. His breath was getting short and ragged with exhaustion. He wanted a rest, he wanted a break.
At the moment his hands let go, he knew that saving you...
Was the worst thing he ever did.