Chapter Text
The newest survivor is too big.
As tall as Philip but with all of Evan's muscle, Jake regards him from where he crouches up in one of the trees of the MacMillan estate. He looks a little ridiculous following behind Glasses towards a generator. Jake lets them begin repairs, entertained by the disparity between the two.
He looks more suited to be a killer, actually, not blinking and his mouth a flat, even line. None of the nervous fidgeting or too-wide eyes of the other survivors. He's wearing what appears to be a mechanic's coveralls, and Jake inwardly sighs at the prospect of another survivor adept with machinery. His big hands fumble with the delicate wires and cause the generator to explode. Sparks shoot in all directions, but he doesn't react. Glasses cringes, head whipping around in fright, but still takes the time to correct the other's movements. Always trying to be the leader.
Jake disregards him, focusing on the other survivor. Not so mechanically inclined, then. Something about that expressionless face makes Jake on edge. His four birds pick up on it; he can feel them shifting where they perch on his hat and cling to his shoulders. Their tiny bodies bump against his head as they jostle for space. He slips his fingers against the one on his left shoulder for it to nuzzle, considering his first play. Jake's about the same size as the rest of the survivors, meaning he'll need to account for the man's height and weight when attacking. Along with figuring out what special abilities the entity has granted him.
And what is the newest killer like? Jake hopes they won't be stingy about sharing their powers. It had taken Sally displeasing the entity one too many times before she gave in and taught him how to track injured survivors.
The entity's impatience is a sharp poke at the back of his head, demanding he start the hunt.
Yeah, I'm on it, Jake thinks agreeably. Doesn't it know his preferences by now? Still, he sends one bird down to land on top of the generator. It preens as it waits to absorb their progress, easy to mistake as any of the other crows littering the area. Glasses, who should know better, takes too long to notice.
He shoots to his feet, trying to pull the new survivor with him, and Jake lazily swings his nangseon down. It hits Glasses in the chest, the blades attached to its branches shredding into both shirt and skin. Jake's terror radius blooms as he stands, throwing off the insidious effect that allowed Jake to ambush them. After a quick tug to ensure that he's properly secured, which makes Glasses stumble and become even more trapped in the branches, Jake heaves him upwards. Time to end it quickly so he can focus on the other one. Jake pulls out his silver knife, the bells on its sheath making a cheerful sound while the survivor screams in panic.
Except he suddenly gets a lot heavier. Jake smacks into one of the tree limbs around him when the nangseon's handle is almost torn free. His remaining birds cry out, wings fluttering as they're dislodged. Disbelief momentarily stuns him. The new survivor has a hold on Glasses' legs and is pulling him downwards. Jake tries to lift again, but he has no leverage when the survivor is strong enough to yank Glasses back to the ground. Jake could understand it if he was using his own body weight and gravity to counter him, but the survivor has both feet planted on the ground.
Position no longer advantageous, Jake hops down and holds onto the nangseon with both hands. The blades rip free from Glasses in a spray of blood, the weapon refusing to bend despite its fragile appearance. Jake whips it around to make the branches rustle threateningly in Glasses' direction to the survivor's obvious horror. He wilts, holding his bleeding arms over the cuts covering his chest and unable to hold back his whimpers.
Jake checks to judge the other survivor's reaction. Since he had to move out of the shadows to grab Glasses, the moonlight now fully illuminates him. A long scar bisects one eye, shiny and pink across pale skin. Jake's birds land back in their spots. The survivor's dark gaze travels from Jake's weapon to the birds before settling on his face.
There's no trace of fear or worry. He looks... bored.
There's a name tag sewn onto the coveralls. It reads Michael.
"Run!" Glasses shouts, already going towards one of the junk piles that serve to only delay the inevitable. Jake doesn't pursue him.
His useless heart pumps away in his chest. Does this survivor have an ability to be so strong? It won't last, the entity never allows them an edge over the killers for very long. Runner can sprint away in only short bursts, and Jumper only gets a speed boost from landing once before she has to recover. The same will hold true for this one, which means there's no easy option for escape, but he doesn't even move as Jake edges closer.
"Am I your first?" Jake asks, then adds, "Michael?"
It feels strange in his mouth. It's hard to keep track of which survivor is which when they change their clothes and hair often, and Jake's fallen back on nicknames for how he interprets their roles or strongest ability. Except Glasses, who always wears them and regularly annoys Jake with his pitiful attempts to lead the survivors into collaborating together.
Apparently, the new survivor comes with a pre-made label.
Michael stares. It's not like he can understand the words, based off Jake's attempts to talk to survivors in previous trials, but it's tiring, killing in silence. At least his birds understand him, rattling as they eye the survivor with interest.
Jake waves a hand and one crow takes flight to follow Glasses as the first continues to drain the generator. Hopefully he'll be off searching for Healer instead of coming back to disrupt it. He still has the other two survivors to account for and, if they're smart, then they'll be on separate generators. Jake directs another to search them out, leaving him with only one left. It caws loudly, head tilting as it waits for his instructions.
On even ground, Michael looms over Jake. No matter, he's still powerless as Jake swings his nangseon around. The blades tear at him, slicing into his arm and side, but he doesn't make a sound as he bleeds. Jake is fully in his space within seconds. He aims his dagger at his throat, anticipating the soft give of his flesh, only for a hand to clamp down on his wrist.
Surprised, Jake blinks. His sleeve has slipped down enough for Michael to grab bare skin. He's very warm. Jake can smell him, underneath the blood. Jake blinks again, several times in quick succession, as Michael squeezes impossibly hard. It actually hurts, pain shooting down Jake's arm as the thin bones grind together.
"How can you touch me?" demands Jake as he attempts to break free. They're too close together for a spear to be useful. He's down to beating at the man's arm as he angles the knife's blade down into where Michael's fingers are curled around him. To make things worse, he notices a generator being completed on the other side of the lot. The entity's usual whispers have risen to demanding screams that he put this survivor on a hook.
I'm trying. Jake grits his teeth when Michael pries the dagger from his fingers like he's trying to break them. He successfully steals Jake's knife, gripping the handle and turning it to study the metal intently before glancing back down at Jake. Like he's thinking about using it.
A strange feeling overcomes Jake, makes his mouth go dry and his stomach tighten.
The last bird flies up and drags its claws over Michael's face. He releases Jake's wrist to bat it away and Jake quickly creates distance. He readies his nangseon, wishing he'd taken the time to poison the blades this trial, but he hadn't thought he would need it. He wasn't expecting anyone new and he wasn't expecting someone like this.
No one had been able to put up a fight before. Sure, they could wiggle out of Jake's grasp or blind him with stupid flashlights, but their greatest weapons were running and hiding. Not attacking back, let alone disarming him.
Jake wonders if the entity had made a mistake. Or if it's punishing him somehow. Maybe he'd let the last survivor escape one too many times. It's a fickle master.
He attacks again, stabbing the nangseon forward to entangle Michael's arm in it. Michael tries to hack at the branches, but the blade refuses to break its sibling.
If he wants to win this trial, then he can't spend too much time on a single survivor. Without pressure, the other three will complete the four remaining generators and skip out of the exit gates. But there's no way he's letting one of them run around with one of Jake's own weapons. Jake twists the spear and the sharp blades sink deeper. Then he leaps forward, punching hard at Michael's throat. He doesn't hold back his strength and Michael falls to his knees with a strangled wheeze.
Jake plucks his dagger out of Michael's fingers as he coughs. He flips it and slams the handle's end into Michael's face.
A wet crunch signals a broken nose, but Michael still doesn't cry out or groan even as thick blood drips from both nostrils. Jake lightly slides the blade under his chin, breathing fast as it leaves a shallow cut. He could press down, force the knife to part muscle and dig out his vocal cords if Michael is so set on refusing to use them. How beautiful would his insides be, peeled apart and flayed open?
Michael's eyes are trained on Jake's own, and Jake realizes the scarred one is the milky white of a cataract. That snaps him out of his momentary bloodlust and Jake affects a grin.
"Ready to die, big boy?" he teases. He drags Michael towards a hook. It takes more effort than usual to heft him onto it. Jake resents that he still won't scream even when the hook plunges into his shoulder.
"Keep him company," Jake tells his last crow. It obediently flies up on top of the hook to await a rescue and Jake calls on the other three.
Glasses and Healer are together as he predicted, on a nearly finished generator after she healed his wounds. His bird watches from atop a wooden crate beside them, blending in with the entity's own crows. It's in the farthest corner of the map and they can complete it before Jake could arrive in time. He lets them go. Once they finish, at least one will have to rescue and heal Michael. The initial generator he found Glasses and Michael at is fully drained, and that bird flies back to Jake. The final survivor is Tinkerer, pulling a toolbox out of a chest and already creeping towards a machine of his own while a bird hops after him.
He's a timid thing, face disfigured by blemishes and always quick to hide. He's also the fastest at repairing generators, hence the name, and Jake picks him as the next target.
When Jake approaches the generator, Tinkerer is in the middle of sneaking away and gasps at being caught out in the open. He runs for the safety of the warehouse. If the window by the staircase is open, it'll be a pain to chase him, but Jake doesn't want to let him go without at least a hit to make him more cautious about working on generators. Especially when he hears Glasses and Healer finish theirs. He hunts him down, hitting him with his spear when Tinkerer drops from the second story. Dimly, he's aware of Michael being rescued and healed as Tinkerer struggles to keep things between them. His distressed cries make him easy to follow. Jake stabs him in his flannel-shirted back with the dagger when he tries to make it to a pallet.
When he tosses him onto a hook, Jake immediately moves on to patrol the remaining generators. It's too soon for him to check on the others with his birds and he recalls the one attached to Tinkerer back to roost on the brim of his hat. With two for two, the odds aren't very good for him. He needs to hook at least two more before they complete the next generator. Even better if he can force someone to second stage and then they will be marked for absorption by the next time he catches them. The entity doesn't like it when the survivors die too quick, but Jake needs better control over this trial after his shaky start.
A generator explodes, someone crossing the wires or using the wrong part, and Jake diverts to intercept them before they can hide. It's actually two of them, Michael and Healer working together. Glasses must be sneaking around to aid Tinkerer.
Healer is crouched behind a nearby brick wall near the edge of the lot, hissing something at Michael, who is still in front of the generator.
Maybe he's just a really strong idiot. If he's not going to do anything to help his team, then Jake plans to ignore him for now. At Jake's whistled command, his bird leaves his hat to roost instead on top of the generator, slowing its pace.
He goes for Healer, but she dodges by swerving sharply to the right. She throws herself at a pallet, knocking it down without looking behind her as she continues to run. Panicky. She's heading for the shack where the basement lies, ducking behind the crumbling walls that hold only windows. He doesn't bother breaking the pallet. Instead of directly following, Jake runs through the open area to cut her off from the shack.
She squeaks when he knocks her down, planting his foot over her sternum and sweeping his nangseon across her face. Her screams vibrate up through the thin sole of his shoe and fill his ears as she weakly tugs on the ends of his outer robe. If she had run instead of trying to help Michael, she might have escaped, but she's too kind for her own good. He can always count on her to not leave anyone behind. When he bends to put her over his shoulder, Jake is amused to see Michael still in the same spot. He doesn't try and block Jake from putting her on the hook. Jake leaves Healer to whimper where she hangs as he walks back to the generator, taking his time.
His other bird has arrived and circles over Michael's head.
While he'd been attacking Healer, Tinkerer was unhooked. He hasn't been healed yet. Hopefully he's not staying injured to work on a generator, but the concern is a distant one. Someone will have to rescue Healer, because Jake isn't going to give Michael a chance to get past him. If he even knows how to help her.
Michael finally moves and Jake straightens, ready to counteract, but all he does is stand. Jake hesitates for a split second, unsure which weapon to use, and decides on the knife as he reaches him. Jake lifts his hand in invitation and the bird takes a tight turn out of its circling to fly back to him. It lands with a soft, raspy sound before bouncing along his arm to sit on his shoulder. Jake extends the dagger, pointing it at Michael, and rearranges his expression into something playful.
"I liked you better on your knees," he says.
Michael's hand twitches.
Jake whirls, slashing the knife across his chest and kicking at Michael's kneecap. Michael drops, catching himself on one knee in a half-crouch, and the coverall's front splits to reveal a dark shirt and white skin. A long, shallow cut parts the skin but barely bleeds. Jake swipes again, aiming for the blade to bite into muscle, only for Michael's hand to get in the way. The tip pierces his palm. There's barely any resistance as it slices through both bone and tendon. Another hand catches Jake's bicep. It yanks him off balance until Jake is leaning over Michael. His bird caws in surprise at its forced displacement, taking to the air. The one on the generator joins it.
Jake grits his teeth as he attempts to pull free. This close, he can hear Michael breathing, feel the touch of his chest with every deep inhale, much too calm for someone who should be at Jake's mercy. There's no way Jake's weapon is leaving his hand again and he shoves it deeper into Michael's palm, up to the hilt. Instead of flinching away in pain, Michael's fingers slowly curl around the guard. Holding on.
Healer shouts as she goes into second stage. The sounds of her struggling to prevent the entity's claws from piercing her aren't loud enough to cover Jake's own grunt as he attempts to wrench the knife sideways. The generator within the warehouse completes with a loud boom.
Three generators done and no one's dead. Annoying.
Both of his birds swoop in, pecking at Michael wherever they can reach. Jake forces a leg between them and puts his shoe low on Michael's chest to push off from it. It eases a few inches of space between them, but Michael won't let go of his knife. There's no softness, no give to the body under his foot. Michael is so determined to take it from him that he's inadvertently dooming his teammate. The other two aren't brave enough to approach while Jake's radius still eclipses her hook, and Michael isn't giving him a reason to leave. Actively preventing him, in fact.
Jake tries to hold it in, but he can't help it. He starts laughing.
Michael's upturned face is like a mask, no movement but for the slight dilation of his pupils.
Maybe he's not a punishment. Maybe he's a gift. Jake would be lying if he said he wasn't curious about what Michael would do with the dagger if he had it. He's already left the dull ache of forming bruises on Jake's wrist, an alien sensation when nothing can hurt Jake here but the entity itself. Not even the other killers can touch him, and they've tried.
Except Michael.
The realization renders him silent. Jake observes the survivor with a new appreciation, tendrils of a thought licking at his insides with its filthy tongue.
It's with that in mind when he drapes his weight across Michael by leaning hard against his own leg. It puts his face directly over Michael's.
"I'll give it to you," Jake murmurs, "if you beg me for it."
Michael's eyelids drop into a gradual blink as if he's processing the words. The intent must translate in Jake's low tone, how he presses himself against him and brushes the fingers of his free hand against Michael's soft lower lip.
To underline the message, Jake drops his leg and sits on Michael's knee, spreading his thighs around the width of his body. He doesn't bother to be gentle about how the arrangement yanks on where his knife is still buried in Michael's hand. His birds land back on his shoulders and lean forwards in curiosity, bumping their silky heads against Jake's chin. Jake dismisses them and they both reluctantly take off to join the other two.
He places a hand on Michael's chest, slips it beneath the tattered shirt to feel at his pectoral muscles and the cut that laterally crosses them. The tip of his fingernail hooks inside and he presses hard until hot blood wells out, makes his fingertip slick as he traces it down to one round nipple. It stiffens under his touch.
Jake angles his head to fit his lips against Michael's. He presses his tongue to the firm line of them. Under the taste of his skin, there's a slight coppery aftertaste that lingers from his earlier nosebleed. Excitement builds like a bonfire, flames igniting to burn away his plans for the trial, all thought of sacrifice insignificant in comparison to the possibilities of a warm, living body against his own. And a dangerous one at that. Michael's grip leaves his bicep to wrap around Jake's throat. Fingers dig in directly over his carotid, the pressure leaving Jake dizzy though he doesn't need to breathe.
Without realizing it, Jake had closed his eyes. He opens them to see Michael's eyes right in front of his own, one almost black and one pearl white. Jake lets him have the dagger to cradle the side of Michael's face with false tenderness. The entity's displeasure scratching down his spine is easy to ignore.
Jake tilts his jaw back, further pressing his neck into Michael's stranglehold and gasps, "Think you can kill me?"
Michael chokes him harder as he lifts the knife and, this time, Jake's grin is real.
This is going to be fun.
