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The game of cat and mouse between survivor and killer had been going on for so long that some spice was needed. Planting the seeds within Alex had been easy enough, he had already started making his switch whether he knew it or not. His want for revenge through pain and agony meant he was no longer willing to just play the Entity’s little game of fix the generator; It meant he was actively seeking out specific killers and making plans if he could snatch their weapons and slit their throat.
An interesting survivor he had been since he arrived, the Entity had tiptoed along the lines of what he would be at first. And yet, now he is showing them his true colors. Running may have been his strong suit, and helping fellow survivors, but when it came down to it?
You could only be a toy for so long.
Since the run in with the Wraith, Alex has been back on his feet and more focused it seems. Yet, even other survivors can note his distance. The seeds of doubt were sown in his chest after all. If a killer could treat him as gently as the Wraith did, and the survivors just used him-
No, didn’t use him, he made his role this way-
Wait, no, what if that wasn’t true? Was he forced t--
No! That wasn’t true- was it? No. This is all...
All so confusing.
Alex’s mind is jumbled and stressed every night, flickers of the rights and wrongs, what was up, what was down, what was true? He can’t quite find it.
Nor can he feel the flickering lights inside of his own body calling to him to come into the fog, to come play with the big dogs, to enter the loving spider-y arms of the Entity who would love and care for him.
Just take the leap.
Alex’s mind at night is plagued by whispers, whispers he doesn’t remember in the morning yet whispers he does once he closes his eyes. The warmth of the fog around him, the idea of warmth sliding down his hands. Sticky sweet- crimson over his bare hands. The idea of getting vengeance is tempting, the idea of hearing another person scream that isn’t his own-
Now that was a thought.
Perhaps it has something to do with an event that happened a few days ago between a certain grinning masked killer and the arachnid beast that haunted its very own playground.
“ I’ve been here since day one doin ’ what ya asked of me. Haven’t asked ya for one damn thing, have I ?” A gruff voice is heard only to one specific being. It doesn’t show itself, merely a mash of oranges, yellows, and blacks. It should have come to life as your nightmare, but considering the Trapper was no longer just a mortal man, it can only show up in this torrent of energy floating in front of him.
The Trapper stands in the thick, dark fog, arms crossed and waiting for a response. The being before him shakes, as if seeming to laugh, but then it pauses, waving to the left and then to the right before a booming voice enters the Trapper’s head. It sounds like twenty different voices talking in sync, all in different pitches and emotions yet the most being prominently like a smoky feminine tone, “ And, what, my dear Trapper, is it that you wish from me? ”
“ The boy. You know the fuckin’ one. Been givin ’ ya hell, hasn’t he? ” The Trapper begins as if in a huff , watching carefully as the begin changes form into the very same one he’d been fantasizing about. Alex. Except instead of his lovely olive toned flesh and his red hair, the being is completely black with glowing yellow eyes- far too many, maybe six all blinking at him and a wicked grin aimed back at him.
The Entity was toying with him.
“ Oh, this boy? ” It speaks, running a hand over its own throat up into its hair with a sigh as if pleasured. “ Ah, yes, Alexander was it? What a lovely body he has... ” It continues, running a hand down the curve of its toned body, only for its eyes to snap open and glare at him, “ The one who has been distracting you and making you fail my little assignments? ”
The Trapper bites his tongue despite having no need when he doesn’t use it to speak. Shamefully, he casts his eyes down to the floor to the side and briefly nods. No lying.
“ This is not how this game works, my dear. ” The voice continues, less angry and much softer now. When the Trapper looks back up, the being is shifting forms and is now one of more just spider legs outreaching down from the sky- a favorite of theirs. It reaches towards him, stroking over the mask’s cheek affectionately. “ You are my favorite and most reliable, Evan, you must understand this, ” It sounds so soft, gently, but then it turns to a low growl, all voices seeming enraged like a disappointed mother. “ But, this is my game , not yours. Return to your realm and do as told. ”
However, this conversation was not ignored, that much Evan could feel as he leaves the fog with his head held like a disappointed child not getting what he wanted.
--
Alex’s moods shift through each trial as if he can’t quite get a grip of himself. He avoids the other survivors, yet still feels affection for them as he normally did. He still confides in Claudette the same as she’ll do to him, finding comfort in her sisterly aura and the way she confides in him back. Nothing but the truth between them, a sibling’s bond, truly. He still feels the need to protect, but there’s something more...
More primal about it.
He’s gone from just taunting the killers from afar and running to running AT them. Making the moves he needs to get a hit or two on them. He’s becoming more emotional, reckless- hell he bit poor Michael last round on the HAND!
So, imagine how Alex feels when he sees the familiar white face of The Ghost.
It’s like a switch in him. All Alex sees is red. The feeling of his pride being stolen from him, the burn of the scar on his hip. One could say there was no point in his anger, considering it had just been a hook, he’d finally been caught, and yet...
He’d been branded. He’d been claimed- by someone he had no interest in being claimed by. It had been stolen from him, this sort of pride and aching that had him running circles around the killers for sport-
The Ghost is tricky to find, he moves quietly and sneaks up on his prey. Thankfully Alex is following footsteps and the wisp of a cloak. Only briefly losing him only to hear a scream to his right- Claudette.
He whips around the trees just in time to see a knife going up and Claudette kicking, always the fighter.
There were unspoken rules in this realm. A mori was a special gift bestowed upon a killer, you were to not interrupt it. You were to allow it to happen or run off before you could be seen. That’s how the games went, you were forced to obey these rules- you had to.
And yet, as if in slow motion, Alex finds himself darting towards the cloaked killer. Snatching him around the waist in a tackle and throwing his lesser body weight into the Ghost. There’s a cry from behind him of ‘Alex, don’t!’ in fear, but his ears are ringing as he struggles for the upper hand. Rolling once before slamming his legs on either side of the killer’s chest, knife in hand.
There’s no second thought, just the loud humming of whispers of ‘do it’ ringing in his head tauntingly, as if excited by this turn of events. The world seems to shake around him, vision flashing oranges and reds as he stabs the knife straight through the Ghost’s neck with a cry.
And just like that? The world around him goes black. Alex is left with his legs straddling no man, nothing seems to be underneath him. He’s on his knees, knife stabbed through nothing, and confusion buzzing through his now quiet head. Knitting his brows, he slowly begins to get up, turning his head this way and that as the foggy shadows seem to envelop him.
A soft noise behind him that sounds like a skittering insect has the hair on the back of his neck standing on end. Whipping around, he finds the spider-y legs hanging from seemingly nowhere reaching out to him as if beckoning him closer. Alex goes to move towards it, to take a swing, but it feels like his legs are walking through thick slime. He huffs, trying to open his mouth, but it feels like his jaw is aching and sore- like he was trying to break a jawbreaker for hours. His words are slurred, echoing as he tries to take another swipe at the leg that’s reaching out, aaaalmost touching him- aaaalmost able to hit it and then-
A whirling sensation. Like he’s being ripped from the fog. Alex finds himself in a dark area, like a forest of sorts as he lands harsh on his knees with a gasp. His head whips around, lifting his body up so he can pat himself down to look for any injury. Nothing. Yet, also, no weapon. Frustrated and full of rage, he screams at nothing and slams his hand on the ground with a loud, “Damn it!”
It takes a few moments to calm down, eyes whipping around at his surroundings.
The sky was dark and cloudy, almost a dark blue shade like the moon was full somewhere. The wind is soft, rustling the trees overhead and surrounding the stone path leading to a. ..a building nearby- a house. It looked like a two story house, almost like an old farmstead feeling to it. The porch had two lights lit on it with a rocking chair, the chimney churning out smoke and all the lights were on. It felt homey. It almost whispered to him to come closer.
Hell, he hadn’t seen anything that comforting in months- or however long he’d been trapped here.
Alex should have paid closer attention to the bear traps mounted on the wall outside or how he could see a deer head mounted inside. It takes him a moment to work himself up to slide up onto his feet, arms and legs aching and feeling out of breath. It takes him a moment longer to roll his neck to work out the aches only to freeze.
Bear traps.
The Trapper.
What if this was a one versus one scenario? What if he’s playing into this game of cat and mouse? What if he had all this time for a head start and didn’t run?!
Yet, the crunching of stones behind him tells him he isn’t alone. Alex’s breath is shaky, holding his head high to stabilize himself and to feel more in control. His fingers clutch into fists at his sides, hearing the huffing breaths coming from behind him much like an irritated bull.
A feeling washes over him, as if someone is prodding at his mind and trying to find something before it clicks and he hears a voice breathe out, echoing around him, “ I changed my mind. ” It’s got this southern drawl to it, gruff and hardly used sort of tone. It sends a feeling over him he can’t quite describe- familiarity perhaps.
Yet, Alex still whips around, taking a step back just as he sees a rough hand reaching out to him and the large, tall body of the Trapper stepping into the light. He bares his teeth, making a show of snarling the best as his mortal throat could allow before barking out a laugh to hide his nerves. “Changed your mind on what, huh? Not gonna fight me like a fuckin’ man? Going to just stand there and gawk?” He lets the taunts fly free from his mouth, trying to hide the way his hands shake.
But, before Alex can take another swing with his words, the Trapper pauses. Doesn’t move any closer to him, just slowly reaches up and removes his mask much like someone would with their hat. He holds it at chest level, head bowing slightly to appear smaller and more at level with Alex despite being two heads taller. “ I changed my mind on you just bein ’ a passin ’ fuck, Alex. ” His mind echoes the words, yet he watches as full, scarred lips don’t move.
Even just the way that the Trapp—Evan says his name makes a shiver run down his body. He squeezes his eyes shut, feeling weak and strained all at once as he swallows a lump in his throat. Alex briefly remembers confiding in the Wraith about being tossed around roughly like a toy and wonders if he’d had a chat with the guy in front of him for that reason exactly. Something Alex would have to thank Philip for another time.
“ Come inside, ” Evan begins again, voice soft and taking a step closer slowly, as if Alex was a rabid kitten. When he doesn’t flinch or move away, Evan comes a bit closer until he’s arms length away. “ I made dinner? I know that may seem strange- I don’t think y’all are allowed those comforts, right? ” His voice is oh so soft, and even the word ‘dinner’ makes Alex’s stomach growl. Something they both hear.
Evan just sounds so...convincing, that even if this was a trap? Alex still follows without much of a fight. A hungry man was a hungry man, after all. Besides, he’d been put through worse than someone trying to invite him into his home only to get stabbed.
Yeah, wow, these games were really fucking him up, huh?
But as Alex is led inside and the smell of food hits him, he genuinely begins to wonder if this was even a trap. Evan is so kind, pulling out his chair for him and pushing it in. The plate is filled with home style cooking and Alex about drools over his plate. The whole set up was rather sweet, a small table that they could reach each other across, different sides and dressings set around a ham that looked too good to be true. Everything was delicious once he finally put some in his mouth.
Evan the whole time is sweet, looking like he’s trying to make himself smaller. Alex quickly gets over the fact his mouth doesn’t move when he speaks, able to trace his eyes over Evan’s face and how his facial expressions change. Evan tries to flirt in little ways, which is rather sweet in its own way and a big surprise to Alex. Philip must have talked to him, it’s the only answer- something must have switched in him.
Evan’s features are rough with chiseled cheekbones and a strong, sharp jaw. His eyes are piercing and heavy set, seeming to be a hazel gold color with flickers of glowing orange inside that must have been the Entity’s influence. His nose is strong, the bridge obviously having been broken a time or two in the past with his lips full and a scar going from the left of his chin, up over his lips, past his nose and ending at his blurrier right eye that must have been blinded in some fashion. Yellow and orange lines seem to cut through his skin, including on his face.
He was rugged and handsome, but not in a conventional way. It was kinda nice, considering what a pretty boy Alex was IN a conventional way.
Evan, despite all of his doings in the past and what he is, is fairly kind while he flirts. Alex decides to play along, absolutely endeared as he nudges his shoe at Evan’s calf and hooks it around in an act of footsie.
It isn’t until after dinner where Evan gently picks up Alex bridal style, unlike the way he’d been tossed over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes in the past. Alex laughs, feeling free and at ease for once as he’s carried up the stairs and to a bedroom. It looks well cleaned, just a regular bedroom with the bed creaking as he’s sat on it. It smells like blade oil and pine.
He expects Evan to shove him down, ravish him- hell, Alex almost wants that to happen. But instead, he’s asked oh so softly by the huge man, “ Philip lemme know ya had a bad run in with someone...left somethin ’ ya don’t want .” Alex’s breath falters for a second, turning his head briefly but is caught by rough fingers gently grabbing his cheek and bringing him back to look up at Evan. “ Lemme take care of ya , pretty boy. I’ll be real gentle- know a thing or two about scars. ” It’s said so gently, a soft echo in Alex’s head that he can’t even sass.
Carefully, Alex kicks off his shoes and socks at the words of Evan to get comfortable. He stands on command for Evan, shimmying his jeans down enough to expose his hips and hiking up his torn up shirt to show the ugly scarring left behind. Jagged words that made him irate. Left by a man who had no means to claim him as his own.
Watching Evan sink to his knees should not make Alex’s heart twist like it does. He’s so gentle the way he traces the scarring, it was pink and flaked, but not as deep as Evan had thought it would be. Some salve and some deliberate marking towards that area should fix it to let it fade in due time.
It’s quiet and soft. And once Evan raises onto his feet, Alex can’t help but watch him, watch as he tries to come up with something, watching Evan’s eyes flicker to the bed. “ Do you wan - ”
“Yes.” Alex quickly responds, nodding vigorously in approval.
That’s how they wind up on the bed. With Evan’s overalls and boots thrown to the side with just his boxers on and Alex’s clothing having been gently and gingerly taken off until he was only his boxers as well. Evan kisses him like a lover this time, soft and gentle as he could be with his body weight lying on top. Alex’s legs are framing one of Evan’s thighs, who is brace himself on his arms on either side of his head. One large hand caressing Alex’s red dyed hair as if he meant so much.
He felt it too.
The kisses start to get hotter, heavier with Alex starting it by biting Evan’s bottom lip. His hips grind up shamelessly into the large thigh between his own, Alex making a lovely, soft sound that just spurs Evan on into growling. It doesn’t sound possessive or angry, it just sounds aroused, a noise Alex could get used to. Not to mention all the soft, yet heavy pawing on his body.
When the kiss parts, Evan fits himself between Alex’s thighs to spread them apart. Alex’s cock is leaking onto the front of his boxers, a dark spot on the gray that makes his breath shake. His eyes are half lidded, lips rosy and his teeth biting at his bottom lip in desire. There’s no words, there’s no need for them right now as Evan slots his clothed cock up against Alex’s so they can both shamelessly grind together.
Alex looks a pretty dream, toned body flexing as his hips push up to rock his dick against Evan’s. It’s heavy, dirty, dry humping. Fit with Evan cupping the side of Alex’s chest so he can thumb at a nipple and use his other hand to wrap a hand loosely around his throat. The noise Alex makes is worth it, a low whine and an arch up into his hand as if asking him to put more pressure. Evan doesn’t, just holding him right where he wants him.
“ I wanna consume every inch of ya ,” Evan starts just as he works Alex’s underwear down. A fumble for lubricant left in a nightstand drawer and a generous amount on his fingers is Alex’s demise as he dissolves into soft laughter. It makes Evan’s heart constrict in adoration.
“ Inside and out, ” Evan continues, a smile on his lips as Alex’s eyes flutter before shutting just as he works a finger inside of him. His hand that had been thumbing at his nipple traces down the curve of his body to his hip, squeezing fondly. “ I want you to be mine. Mine and mine alone...Think I could share ya , if ya knew that. ” Making a note to remind Alex that even if he still wanted to be sexual with others, he wasn’t going to stop his fun. As long as he knew who he belonged to.
The noise, regardless, is worth it when Alex chokes on a sob as two fingers push into him. Carefully working him open and quirking upwards to make his smaller cock jump against his abdomen. So cute. So pretty.
“ I think I love you .” Evan’s voice is an echo of sincerity in Alex’s mind. It makes him choke on another sob, this time for various reasons. He nods in agreement, one hand reaching down and patting until he can grip Evan’s wrist on the hand that holds his hip. Thumbing over his pulse point adoringly.
It makes Evan about break.
Fitting his cock inside of Alex is much easier than all the times before. With lubing Alex up as well as himself and taking the time to stretch, he slides in with hardly any resistance besides Alex’s harsh panting and whining telling him to hurry up. He’s only silenced by hard, bruising kisses with desperate thrusts inside of his body.
Evan doesn’t take him like an animal, not this time. His thrusts are well timed and deep, making sure Alex feels every inch of him inside of him. Making sure that Alex is moaning against his lips only out of pleasure. Alex’s arms wrap around his neck, holding him tight in turn as his hips start to cant and hump with Evan’s. Trying to reach his peak without a care in the world. As long as Evan’s heat stayed on top of him.
Evan’s voice is a sweet symphony in his head of praise. Calling him a pretty boy, that he’s doing so well taking him, that he’s going to be his sweet little boy toy isn’t he? And all Alex can do is nod furiously in turn, clawing at his back and grabbing onto a hook jutting from Evan’s shoulder as he cums with a loud cry of his name. Spilling all over his own abdomen as Evan smashes their bodies together to vigorously pump into him.
Alex is left feeling full and exhausted. Vaguely, he can feel Evan cleaning him up and wrapping him in a blanket, falling asleep in his arms. For once, feeling safe.
His dreams are plagued, however. As oranges and yellows spin around his vision. The spidery legs coo to him in their multi-voiced persona, “ What a special day it is for you! I am sure you shall keep my favorite sated, yes? And in turn, I give you another chance, Alexander. You shall play for the other side .”
Alex can vaguely feel the change in his system, hardly fighting against it as the legs reach out to him, stroking down his cheeks fondly. “ You will be accepted and adored by the rest of my toys .” Its voice is sickly sweet, sounding like a delighted child getting a new toy.
“ Let the rage consume your heart...Seeker. ”
--
A scared, panting survivor darts around a new arena. Their eyes flickering all around the new map. It looked like a huge gym, darting into hallways of a broken down college. Equipment in the gym allowed them to hide and a huge locker room to boot. Yet, it was far too open, you had to be careful about the generators all tucked into dead ends.
You had to be careful of the new bare foot killer with a beaming fox mask with a dangerous weapon of kukri. For if you made a sound, anywhere he could hear, you’d hear the rapid padding of his feet heading right for you.
May the hunt begin, and let rage consume your very thoughts,
O’ dearest Seeker.