#the executioner

[wintermoonkisses]

𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐁𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐊 𝐔𝐏 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐌𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐎𝐍

☆ In which you break up with him after some unfortunate circumstances. You proceed to move on with someone else, feeling happier than ever, not knowing that you were his everything. They won't let you be with someone else. You belong to him and only him. ⚠️ warnings: angst, mention of NFSW, heartbreak, possessive and obsessive behaviour, violence, bro she's not into you ☆ includes: danny johnson, albert wesker, michael myers, pyramid head

𝐃𝐀𝐍𝐍𝐘 𝐉𝐎𝐇𝐍𝐒𝐎𝐍

“I think we should break up.”

Danny was in the middle of basking in the photos of you and him when you decided to approach him

“What? Why? What did I do?” he asked, though he could feel his heart drop

You and him had been dating for a while, something that had happened out of the blue

This man fell for you hard the first time he saw you, trying to complete generators while looking around fearfully

You were like a shining jewel in the middle of this wreckage and he approached and courted you in any way possible to fall for him

He listened to your conversations with fellow survivors from the darkness, he wanted to get to know you as much as possible

He knew all of your favourite hobbies, movies, and wishes, and he would often spy on you hanging out with the other survivors

One time you changed outfits without knowing he was there and… oh my… you made this man very happy

He snuck in romantic cards, made bouquets of flowers from the realm, and sent you photos of yourself that he would take in the shadows

You were afraid of him until he thought of the best way to ensure you were his

He offered to spare you if you became his girlfriend

After all the pain and suffering you went through, anyone would accept so you did

Danny was a good boyfriend despite his cruel and sadistic tendencies, but he made sure to treat you with the proper respect and devotion

He was extremely affectionate, loving, and charismatic, and it was wild that he could be such a brutal murderer

He enjoyed every moment with you, the kisses, hugs, and spicy moments… all of it

Until he decided to play a cruel prank and sacrificed you during a trial, in which shattered your trust and love for him

“It was a joke! A light-hearted joke! I won’t do it again!” he protested when you told him, but you already made up your mind

“It’s too late now.” you responded coldly

You broke things off with him and hoped that he would soon forget everything that happened between you and him

He didn’t forget

Danny stopped in his tracks when he heard the sound of your laughter. You sounded so happy, carefree, and in love that it made him turn around and follow it. He knew he shouldn’t. He knew he was making a mistake by following your voice. He knew he was going to get hurt. Danny soon made it to the clearing and what he saw made his heart drop.

You and Leon S. Kennedy, were sitting side-by-side and were holding hands together. You had a bright smile on your face while he caressed your hair and face, speaking words of affirmation. 

Those touches… he was the only one who could touch you like that!

Danny felt his entire body boil with rage at the sight of you with another man and the moment you and Leon shared a kiss together, he lost it.

He awaited for the trial… a trial in which the Entity granted him willingly.

Leon held your hand as the two of you rushed towards the opened gate, as your two other teammates had already left. You were almost there when all of a sudden, Leon was tackled to the ground by Danny. The Ghostface stabbed and mauled him to the bone, ignoring your pleas and cries as Leon took his last breath.

To add more insult to the wound, he took a picture of Leon’s dead body before he sang a song and danced towards your petrified form. He tangled the printed photo of Leon before you, as he tilted his head in a mocking way.

“Did you really think you could replace me?” he asked you in a light but deadly tone.

“Get away from me! What happened between me and you is over!” you screamed out, but he grabbed you and slammed you on the ground.

Removing his mask, he kissed you feverishly as his smile grew wider. You bit back your lips to deny him but he pushed his hand into your shirt, stroking your skin. You yelped from the movement and he tasted you with his tongue, fully knowing how to break you.

“Don’t cry, dearie.” he comforted you as he held you down, “I’ll take good care of you.”

You were sobbing as you tried to get away from him but he was too strong. He forced your head to stare at Leon’s body before he threatened something into her ear.

“If you want that man to be safe…”

“Be mine.”

𝐀𝐋𝐁𝐄𝐑𝐓 𝐖𝐄𝐒𝐊𝐄𝐑

“I don’t think we should be together anymore.”

You really have balls to approach him with that thought in mind

It happened right after a trial in which he returned, having killed every single survivor and he was itching to share his victory to you

The cocky smirk that was on his face slowly disappeared

“You better have a good reason.” he hissed at you, bending down to hold your face tightly with his one hand

The first time you had met, Wesker saw potential in you

You escaped every single time from him, slipping away from his grasp like an untamable bunny

He at first was enraged with your cleverness and he targeted you, but you somehow outsmarted him each time

This obsession with killing you slowly warped into affection and an unhealthy version of love

He knew he had to get his hands on you, a survivor this intelligent (and beautiful) like yourself was only worthy of being by his side

When you were about to reach the hatch, he slammed it down before he confided in you about his feelings 

He basically confessed to you despite half of his words were looking down at you

You of course, having no choice, accepted… this brutal world was insufferable and to have a killer as powerful as Wesker as a lover was a great way to protect yourself inside and outside the trials

At first, you enjoyed being with him as despite his brutality, Wesker was a gentleman

Your very first kiss together, he loved it

When you held him in your sleep, he cherished it

The first time he saw you bare, he knew you were his forever

But he was egotistical and arrogant and that ultimately became his downfall

He lost a trial against his former subordinates and he was so enraged that he lashed out at you, his words so cruel and painful that it was the first time you cried because of him 

He never apologised for it and you soon realised you didn’t want that sort of arrogance and pride for a partner

“I lost a trial against those fiends!” he snapped at you after you told him your feelings, “how would you know anyway?! Someone like you would never be on the same level as me, a god!”

You saw his reaction coming and you broke things off with him permanently

Wesker at first didn’t care much but as time went on, he slowly realised he lost a gem as he truly felt empty

He did not move on

He knew he would meet you in a trial eventually after the “breakup”. To him, you two were still a pair and sooner or later, you would come running back into his arms, begging him to protect and spare you from this hellish land. You were running and he already infected and wounded you. One more hit and you would be his again and he wasn’t intending on letting you go.

Just when he was about to get you, another body came between the two of you as Chris Redfield took the blow instead. This new action from his former friend shocked Wesker to the core as he literally paused in his tracks, as Chris lifted you up and rushed you to the gate.

When did you and Chris become so close?

It hadn’t even been that long since you broke things off with him!

He needed to investigate.

When the trial concluded, he made it his means to track you down. The moment he saw you outside the trial, you were hugging Chris, as if he was the only thing that mattered. Chris comforted you and he held you tightly, burying his head into your neck intimately.

What the fuck was going on?

You replaced him with Chris? 

A god like himself was suddenly dumped and compensated with a being like Redfield?

He would not stand this mockery.

You held Chris’ face and the moment you two were about to kiss, he was suddenly snatched away and thrown into a tree. The force was so great that it shattered his skull and Chris soon fell to the ground, limp.

Wesker stood before you as he glared at you with anger and betrayal. You cried out for Chris as you tried to get him but Wesker got a hold of you and he pinned you to the ground.

“So that’s how it is, huh?” he snarled at you, “you were secretly fucking Chris when we were together and you were just waiting for the chance to discard me, is that it?!”

You managed to kick him off but he got a hold of you again, throwing you to the ground as he straddled your waist. You were still fighting him, one hand punching his sunglasses off, but he soon overpowered you and pinned your arms to the side of your head.

“You naughty… naughty girl…” he hissed at you, “are you trying to make me angry?”

You under him was a sight he desperately missed and he dived into your neck and began to kiss and suck on your soft skin. You closed your eyes as you wanted nothing to do with him but he bit down on your skin, making you whimper.

He grabbed the back of your hair as he forced you to look into his eyes. He kissed you deeply before he broke apart, feeling triumphant seeing your flushed face and short breaths.

“Playtime is over dear.” he told you gently.

“Time for your punishment.”

𝐌𝐈𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐄𝐋 𝐌𝐘𝐄𝐑𝐒

“Me and you are done.”

You have a death wish at this point

He was soaked in blood from head to toe and he tilted his head to the side from your statement. He had no visible emotions but his breathing got faster and heavier

The time you caught his attention, it was actually during the very first trial between you two

You were new and didn’t know how to do the generators and David and Ash were very vocal about it and they bashed your poor soul for it

The Shape was only driven by blood and sadism as he followed their voices and he killed them off right away

Your innocent soul thought he was a good person and you rushed over to hug him, thanking him over and over as you held him tightly

He was so confused and was about to kill you like the rest

But the moment your (e/c) eyes looked up at him all putty, he fell hard for you

He spied on you outside the trials, he watched you sleep, he watched you talk to your friends, he even watched you wash yourself by the lake

Naked! 

But of course, he was the embodiment of evil so he didn’t know how to tell you he liked you… a lot

You were eating a can of pumpkin when you noticed he was standing beside you and you offered some of the pumpkin to him, smiling brightly at him

And the rest became history

Michael was terrifying and his presence gave you reassurance and a sense of safety in this world

You enjoyed him… holding him, showing him affection, and being by his side

He always slept flat on his back but with you, he soon slept on his side, holding you close to his chest to keep you warm and protected

He eventually wanted to show you his face… and he was a very handsome fellow

But he was also very jealous and possessive 

He saw you and Laurie Strode become very close friends one day and the moment she touched your shoulder in a friendly manner, he lost it

He appeared out of the shadows and killed her instantly, vowing to isolate you from everyone as you only needed him

But that control and possessiveness was what drove you away from him

And he wasn’t going to let that happen

The Shape stood in the darkness as he watched you from a distance. You had ignored his presence, his gestures, and his entire existence and he was itching for you to acknowledge him again. You were humming a little song until your head suddenly perked up and Michael thought for a second, you noticed him.

Except not.

Felix Richter came out of the forest, having returned from a trial. Your eyes lit up when you saw him as he sat next to you, as the two of you began to converse. The Shape saw you offer Felix some food to replenish himself and the Shape felt rage boiling in his body. Veins appeared on his neck and hands and he held his kitchen knife tighter.

If there was one thing you should know, no one should ever touch something that belonged to Michael Myers.

“I really like you, (Name).” Felix told you shyly, “I was meaning to tell you that.”

Your eyes lit up and you reciprocated his feelings as the two of you soon leaned closer. Except your lips never touched as all of a sudden, Felix was lifted in the air as Michael held him by the neck, before he sank his knife into his chest, killing him instantly. 

He threw Felix’s body to the ground before he turned to you. You were freaking out and sobbing as you turned to run, in which he tilted his head.

Why were you running?

He slowly followed you as it wouldn’t be long for him to get you since no one ever escapes the boogeyman.

You were running but just when you were about to turn the corner, he caught you by the back of your shirt and pinned you to the tree. You struggled to get away from him as he held your neck and kept you there, as you fully felt the wrath of the Shape.

Slamming his knife over your head, he soon lifted his mask up so his lips were exposed, before he kissed you. He was sloppy, inexperienced, and desperate as you whimpered from this kiss. 

Slowly and slowly, your body grew exhausted and you fell limp against his frame. Michael lifted you up and coddled you to his chest as you knew your fate was sealed the moment you showed him a shed of kindness in that trial.

You were always his.

𝐏𝐘𝐑𝐀𝐌𝐈𝐃 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐃

“We were never meant to be. I think it’s better if we break up.”

You really were making bets with death at this point

Pyramid Head heaved in front of you as he reached out his hand to touch your face, but you backed away from him

“No.” you told him firmly, “no more.”

You broke him to pieces with those words

When you arrived at the realm, Pyramid Head was flabbergasted at your presence

You were so pure, innocent, and so charming that he couldn’t get you out of his head

You were kind, had a sweet voice, and it was a mockery that the Entity forced you to abide its cruel game

Pyramid Head wanted to protect you

When he approached you, you ran away from him since you were so scared so he needed to think of other ways to make you feel comfortable around him

He saved you for last at every trial, “accidentally” dropping you by the open hatch, spared you each time, showed you chests with the first-aid kits, and never once attacked you brutally

You in turn, noticed his acts of affection and you bravely approached him in the fireplace one day

“Would you like to sit with me?” you asked him gently

Sounds of excitement and contentment echoed from his dome as he took your hand and everything became so perfect after

His hugs were the best, he was so sweet and gentle despite his large frame, and you were so thankful you had him

The first time you he saw all of you, he wanted to be rough and break you but he held himself back

You were his everything…

Until he messed up

It was during the trial and after some time, you wanted to ask if he could spare your friends as well

“Please! None of them deserve it and it wouldn’t be fair if you only spared me at this point!” you pleaded with him

He didn’t care at all as he slaughtered your three teammates brutally in an instant, before he carried you to the hatch

He placed you down gently but you refused to go in, until he finally forced you down the hatch so you could escape

After that, you didn’t want anything to do with him

He still followed you around until you finally snapped at him, knocking him back into reality of the actions he did against your friends

But he could never forget you

Even if a devil and angel can never be together

The Executioner heaved as he dropped another can of food by the fireplace. This was the usual place you would return to after a trial and Pyramid Head was (desperately) looking forward to seeing you. He kept watch on you and he noticed you looked more exhausted and malnourished then before so he took it upon himself to find some food, hoping that you’ll want him again.

Pyramid Head waited and waited for a long time but you never showed up.

He was about to lose patience when he finally heard your voice in the distance. Feeling confused on why you weren’t showing up at your usual location, he followed your voice, feeling rage starting to boil in his veins when he sensed you weren’t alone.

You were with another man.

You were sitting on a tree with Alucard, who was telling you a funny story and making you laugh. Pyramid Head was watching you but you didn’t notice him at all! He waited and waited for some sort of acknowledgment, even making a heart with his trail of torment to show you his complete devotion.

Not once did you turn to look at him.

Alucard jumped down from the tree and he looked up at you, waiting for you to join him. You were afraid but he promised to catch you and you were about to jump when Pyramid Head lost his patience and he attacked the dhampir male.

You watched in horror as Pyramid Head hacked and killed Alucard over and over again, until he no longer moved.

“Alucard!” you cried out but you soon realised you were cornered.

The sound of the Great Knife hitting the tree echoed the realm and soon, it tumbled down and you went crashing on the ground. Pyramid Head got a hold of you before you could recover as you screamed and cried, hitting your fists against his chest.

“How could you do that?! Why did you kill Alucard?!” you screamed out, but Pyramid Head only caressed your head with his hand, “Let me go! I’m done with you!”

You continued to fight against him until you couldn’t shed a single tear anymore. You breathed against his chest, choking on your sobs as he held you close to his body.

You didn’t fight him anymore.

You were finally submissive.

He liked that.

₊˚ ✧ ₊˚ ✧ ₊˚ ✧ ₊˚ ✧ ₊˚ ✧

☆ thank you everyone for over 500 followers on tumblr! Here's a little collection of headcanons of a trope I was thinking of writing with some of my favourite dead by daylight killers. Thank you for reading and supporting my stories/oneshots <3 ☆ my DBD stories if you're interested: Good Girl, Pretty Little Thing

[spooon-art]

Executioner Alastor!

…

Al’s angelic form stemmed from ‘Infernal Casting’ by chibinekgirl101. really love the idea of Alastor being Lucí’s executioner from day one!

[alllgator-blood]

This is the only new thing I've drawn in forever and it's a little busted after losing my preferred tablet settings. But THE EXECUTIONER WAS CONFIRMED TO BE A SHE/HER GIRLIE and idc about shipping but...I am a butch who loves heket and now there's a big mean woman already aligned with the old faith. It was basically my obligation to make this comic

(I will say, I'm gonna hold off from drawing woolhaven content til it comes out because if I get something wrong I'll die of embarrassment)

[the-dumb-bun]

Finally dome good fucking reference.

Dick revealed under the cut ehehe

[jovialbaryo]

My beloved ship :,)

The Executioner by @the-dumb-bun

[sleepy-cottage-dreams]

Little doodle comic that's still in progress lol- expect an update whenever my body isn't rebelling against my desperate need to draw this 🙏

[twiinarmageddonss]

the newest zahhak

[yanderedbdimagines]

Could you write a few killers who already have their sights on someone, but become obsessed with the reader because they forfeit their own safety to protect others?

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I really like this request, and I picked four killers that I really wanted to write about the moment I started to play around with it. Someone else requested something similar, so it's two in one.

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Warning!: NSFW Elements present! Violence, blood, etc.

The Deathslinger

The wooden stock of Caleb’s custom-built rifle was warm in his grip, slick with a thin sheen of blood. One of theirs, but whose, exactly? He neither knew nor cared. The scent of gunpowder clung to the thick, stagnant air. Mingling with the acrid aroma of rust, dust and decay. The once-thriving outpost of Dead Dawg Saloon stood in eerie silence around him, its skeletal remains a graveyard of splintered wood, abandoned buildings, and the ghostly echoes of men long since put in the ground.

The trial was nearly at its end.

Three of them still clung to life, but their fate was sealed. Prey, reduced to desperation, staggering like wounded animals, their time borrowed and running thin. But there was one among them who refused to fall without a fight.

Yui Kimura.

She was fast, sharp-witted and stubborn as hell. Caleb had chased her across these damned streets, through shattered buildings and over the warped gallows. She had vaulted, juked, and twisted her way out of his reach more times than he cared to count. His patience had worn thin, his hands aching to cut this chase short.

Now, she was cornered.

His keen eye spotted her huddled low behind an old wagon, her body taut, fingers pressing against a wound he had delivered earlier. The crimson stain against her torn sleeve told him what he needed to know. She was weakening.

Caleb exhaled. Settling the weight of his rifle against his shoulder. One well-placed shot, one squeeze of the trigger and it would be over. He aligned his sights. His finger tensed.

And then you appeared.

You had been running toward safety, clear of his reach, your escape route wide open towards an opened exit gate. But instead of vanishing into the fog like any sensible survivor would, you turned. And ran back.

Straight toward the saloon.

Straight toward them.

Caleb hesitated.

His finger hovered over the trigger, his grin faltering for the briefest second. He had seen panic before. He had seen desperation, raw and wretched, as men clawed at the dirt to get away from him. But this? This was something else.

This wasn’t fear.

This was sacrifice.

Your reckless, stupid, godforsaken heroism sent a slow, amused snarl curling over his lips. He admired grit, respected those with enough iron in their spine to fight back, but what you had just done? That was pure foolishness.

He realigned his sights and steadied his aim. The rifle cracked, the harpoon slicing through the air in a deadly whistle.

Yui had no time to react.

But you did.

The iron spear punched through your shoulder, the impact ripping the air from your lungs before you even realized what had happened. Your world tilted as the force sent you sprawling backward, boots scraping against the dust-coated ground. The chain snapped tight and yanked you toward him with ruthless precision.

You hit the dirt hard.

A strangled cry tore from your throat as you skidded toward him, pebbles biting into your skin, the searing pain of the harpoon digging deep into flesh. Caleb didn’t move, didn’t flinch, just reeled you in, watching with an eerie calm as you clawed at the dirt, your body trembling from shock.

Then, at last, you were beneath him.

Looming, towering and waiting.

His shadow stretched over you, the barrel of his rifle lowering slightly, though the chain still remained taut in his grip. His ghostly, sunken eyes, shadowed beneath the brim of his hat, raked over you with something unreadable.

“You really are a damned fool, ain’t ya?” His voice was slow, deep, like rusted iron grinding over old bone.

Your chest heaved. You could feel the warm trickle of blood soaking your sleeve, the pain unbearable. But you had done it. Yui was gone. Running. Safe.

The realization flickered in Caleb’s gaze.

A chuckle rumbled low in his throat, though there was no real humor behind it. His amusement had curdled into something darker, something more intrigued. He pressed the sole of his boot lightly against your ribs. Not hard enough to crush, just enough. A reminder that you were at his mercy now.

“You got a death wish, darlin’?” His voice dipped lower, hushed, almost soft, like a secret between sinners. “Throwin’ yourself in front of my gun like that?” His fingers tightened around the rifle, muscles in his forearm tensing. “Ain’t had someone do that in a long time.”

You braced yourself for the hook. For the end.

But it didn’t come.

Instead, Caleb hesitated.

He had every reason to end this right now, to drag you screaming to a hook, to leave you gasping for air as the Entity claimed you.

And yet…

Something about the way you had offered yourself… Not to save yourself, but for another, struck something primal in him. A desire.

A possessive craving.

Something that made him want to keep you, not just kill you. Because that kind of loyalty? That recklessness?

It had potential.

That flicker of interest was your only chance.

With a sharp cry, you wrenched yourself free.

Pain shot through your body like wildfire, the wound in your shoulder ripping wider as you tore against the chain’s hold. The harpoon slid loose with a sickening squelch. And suddenly, the world was spinning as you stumbled to your feet and ran.

Caleb cursed, lunging forward, his chain snapping as he tried to grab you, but you were already sprinting, fueled by agony and desperation.

You didn’t look back.

Didn’t dare.

The saloon blurred around you, the ruined gallows looming like an omen. Caleb was already chasing, his boots pounding against the dirt, his rifle swinging downward to fasten his approach.

But then you saw it.

The hatch.

Your only way out.

With a final, ragged gasp, you threw yourself forward. The ground vanished beneath you as you plummeted, the fog swallowing you whole.

The hunt was over.

Caleb skidded to a halt, boots grinding against the dirt. The hatch let out a final thunk as it sealed itself, leaving nothing but silence in its wake.

For a long moment, he simply stared.

His chest heaved, not from exertion, but from something else entirely. Something unexpected. A slow, twisted grin curled over his lips, his jaw cracking in the process, his fingers tightening around the rifle’s grip.

That was new. That was interesting.

His fluorescent white gaze flickered over the empty spot where you had vanished.

Oh, he’d see you again. Because now? Now you were more than just another survivor. Now, you were his obsession.

And Caleb Quinn never let go of what he deems to be interesting.

The Executioner

The walls of Midwich Elementary School groaned under the weight of something ancient, something wrong. The air hung thick with decay, saturated with the acrid stench of rust and stagnant rot. It was as if the building itself had absorbed suffering, the very bones of its foundation tainted with the echoes of long-forgotten agony. Shadows pulsed unnaturally in the dim light, twisting along the broken tiles, whispering through cracked walls. The voices were not human.And through the heart of this nightmare, he pursued.

A towering monolith of flesh and metal. His form is an instrument of judgment. Silent, relentless and a monstrous man deemed inevitable. He did not stalk like a man, nor did he hunt like a beast. He moved with the certainty of something that had no need to rush, something that would always find you in the end. The Great Knife dragged behind him. Its rusted, monstrous edge carving deep gashes into the bloodstained floor. The sound of metal grinding against tile was unbearable. A screech that set nerves alight, yet it is no more deafening than the suffocating weight of his presence.

Adam Francis ran. He had spent his life educating others, priding himself on patience and on reason. But here? In this twisted parody of a school? Reason meant nothing.

He could feel it closing in behind him. The sheer weight of its presence bore down on him, thick and suffocating, like a shroud wrapping around his throat. He dared not look back, his breaths ragged as he pushed forward and forcing his burning legs to carry him further.

The knife swung.

A sharp whistle cut through the air. A death sentence descending upon him…

But then, you moved. The metal door of a locker slammed open, the dull light reflecting in your panicked gaze as you threw yourself forward, barreling into Adam’s side.

Your body crashed into his with the force of a desperate savior, knocking him off his path, sending him sprawling onto the cold tiles just as the Great Knife carved through the air.

A sharp and searing pain ignited across your back.

You barely had time to scream before the sheer force of the blow ripped you from your feet, sending you hurtling onto the blood-slicked floor. The cold, unforgiving tiles met you with a crack, the breath torn from your lungs as your limbs collapsed beneath you.

Your vision blurred. The pain was immediate, a blistering agony radiating across your spine where the blade had nearly cleaved you in two. Your fingers curled weakly against the ground, shaking, struggling to push yourself upright.

And then… Silence.

Adam’s footsteps faded into the distance, a fleeting comfort.

A shadow loomed over you. Impossibly vast and suffocating in its abyssal presence that swallowed everything in its path. The air itself quivered beneath his weight. The world recoiling as if it knew what lingered above you.

Slowly and deliberately, he stepped forward.

The Great Knife plunged into the ground beside you with a sickening crash, the sheer force rattling the earth beneath your trembling frame. The bloodstained steel quivered, buried deep in the floor beside your face. A statement.

Your breath came shallow and trembling, your body frozen as something huge, unseen, and utterly consuming filled the space between you.

The Executioner was watching you. From beneath that terrible, rusted helm, his unseen gaze bore into you. Studied you.

Your pain. Your sacrifice. Your willingness to suffer for another.

It was not fear that bound you in place.

It was the sheer, overwhelming intensity of his presence.

A gloved hand, which was massive and inhumanly strong, reached out. The white leather of his fingers, slick with blood, traced the line of your trembling jaw. The touch was shockingly delicate.

A shiver crawled down your spine. An instinctive reaction to the sheer power coiled within him.

He lingered. His fingers curled slightly, almost testing. Measuring the fragile warmth of your skin, the rapid thunder of your pulse against his fingertips.

For the first time, something shifted in the Executioner.

And in that moment, where pyramid head stood rigid, you did the only thing you could.

You ran.

Your body screamed in protest, every nerve aflame, but you did not stop. You pushed past the pain, past the overwhelming pull of the Executioner’s unseen gaze, and ran through the endless halls of this cursed place.

The shadows clawed at your heels, the darkness twisting with each turn. You could feel him following, his footfalls heavy. He did not chase in haste.  Because he did not need to. He was inevitable. You were no different, in that regard.

But then, the hatch.

Like a beacon in the endless dark, it hummed just ahead.

With the last of your strength, you threw yourself forward.

And the fog swallowed you whole.

The trial was over.

The Executioner stood at the edge of the empty space where you had vanished, the silence pressing against him like a vice.

His great knife, still drenched in fresh blood, lowered.

Slowly, his free hand curled into a fist, the phantom warmth of your skin still clinging to his fingers.

The moment played again in his mind. Your breathless defiance, your willingness to bleed for another. The way your body had trembled beneath his touch, not from fear… Not entirely at least. But from something else, too.

You had changed something.

And now, you were his to seek, and to find.

The rusted helm tilted slightly, as if listening to something far beyond human comprehension.

It was not over. Not even close.

Because no matter where you ran, no matter how many times you escaped… The Executioner would come for you this time.

And next time?

You would not escape him.

The Knight

The air was thick with the stench of burning wood and rotting flesh, smoke curling in dark plumes through the ruined remnants of Shattered Square. What had once been a thriving settlement of merchants and craftsmen had been reduced to a battlefield of blood and embers, its people long gone, their suffering permanently etched into the scorched ruins and broken cobblestone. The streets were littered with the remnants of a life now lost in time. Shattered pottery, splintered carts, iron tools abandoned in the dirt. All remnants of a struggle that had ended long before this trial began.  But the trial was not yet over.

Thalita Lyra ran.

Her breath came in ragged bursts and her limbs trembled with exertion as she tore through the crumbling marketplace, past the skeletal remains of merchant stalls and overturned wagons. Her heartbeat pounded against her ribs, a frantic drum of fear and survival.

And behind her, he followed.

The Knight.

A towering presence of steel and death, his body encased in armor blackened by soot and battle. His crimson surcoat, though singed and tattered from the flames, still billowed with every step, the deep red standing stark against the plated steel beneath. A war banner of a man, a conqueror draped in the colors of blood.

He did not rush. He did not need to. His Guards had done their part.  The Jailer’s chains had nearly dragged her down, the Assassin’s blade had come within a whisper of splitting flesh. But he did not rely on them. There was no evading him.

A shadow loomed.

A flash of steel.

The Knight’s zweihänder sliced through the air, a lethal arc of gleaming death.

Thalita’s body twisted at the last moment, barely dodging the strike, but she had nowhere left to run.

Her foot caught on debris, and she hit the ground hard, her body barely able to brace for the impact.

The Knight took one step forward, the weight of his presence pressing down like an executioner looming over the condemned. His zweihänder rose, the tip gleaming with flickering embers of the fires still burning in the ruins.

A sudden blur. The impact was sudden, your shoulder colliding with the steel plating of his side, the force of your weight crashing into his armored frame with everything you had. It was a fool’s act.

His steel-clad arm barely budged against the force of your impact, but it was enough. The zweihänder stopped mid-swing, the momentum of his blade shifting ever so slightly, his body barely shifting from your impact. You may as well have thrown yourself against a fortress.

But that single moment, that single hesitation, was all Thalita needed.

Enough for Thalita to push herself up, stumbling onto her feet, her body swaying as she regained balance. Without looking back, she turned and disappeared into the thickening smoke, her form swallowed by the ruins.

The air around you felt heavier, thick with something indescribable as the battlefield fell into silence.

The Knight's visor tilted downward, the slitted gaze beneath it locking onto you for the first time.

Your chest heaved, your heart a frenzied drumbeat beneath your ribs. Pain shot through your limbs from the force of the collision, but you did not dare to move.

You stood firm.

For someone else, you had placed yourself in his path.

For someone else, you had intervened.

Something shifted in the Knight’s imposing stance.

He had seen many things in these wretched trials. Cowards, warriors, fools who thought they could outlast him.

But this?

This was different.

His gauntleted fingers flexed against the hilt of his zweihänder.

The feeling drummed against his ribs, an unfamiliar rhythm that had no place in a battlefield. It was something new, something he had not felt in so long he had forgotten it existed at all.

His own heartbeat.

Steady. Strong. And faster than ever before.

He exhaled slowly, the sound of it low and controlled beneath his helmet.

For the first time, he did not feel like a warrior in pursuit of his duty. He did not feel like a mere extension of the Entity’s will, nor just another commander of its cruel games. You stepped back, already turning to run away.

With terrifying precision, his free hand lashed out. A hand that could crush bone, that had twisted the life from so many before.

The metal of his gauntlets was slick with blood as his fingers closed around your throat.

A sharp gasp left your lips. Your hands flew up, fingers soon clawing against the unyielding steel, desperately seeking a weakness, a gap, anything that would loosen his grip. But there was no weakness to find. You struggled, your body twisting, your feet digging into the dirt, trying to pull away- to break free. But his hold remained unyielding. He did not tighten his grip. He did not choke you, did not crush your windpipe as he so easily could have. He simply held you there. Like a hunter inspecting his catch.

As if he did not understand why he was doing it at all.

The battlefield around you still burned, the air thick with the scent of blood and smoke, yet he paid it no mind. His focus was solely on you.

Alive. Mortal. Temporary. The words tumbled through his head like an echo. Foreign and unfamiliar, pressing into his thoughts in ways he could not explain.

You were not supposed to matter.

And yet, as you struggled, as you fought against his grip, he remained still, his gaze hidden beneath his visor, locked onto you in silent contemplation.

You were so fragile.

His armor was cold and unyielding. The heavy plating pressing lightly against your skin. He could not feel the warmth of your body beneath his grip. His gauntlets prevented that.

But he could see the rapid rise and fall of your chest. Could see the way your pulse fluttered at your throat. Could see your face, up close for the first time. Not a fleeting glimpse across the battlefield.

Not another nameless soul in the Fog.

But you.

For a single moment, you stopped struggling.

You stilled beneath his grip, your breath ragged but steadying, your body no longer thrashing against his hold.

You were watching him now.

Just as he was watching you.

A war machine and a mortal. A killer and a survivor.

Then…

The distant roar of the final generator hissed through the burning air.

A sharp stinging pain tore across his grip as you wrenched free. Your nails digging into the cracks of his armor, breaking his hold with a sudden twist of your body.

The Knight’s fingers curled into a tight fist. The memory of your form still fresh against his palm.

Your figure blurred through the smoke and ruin, your form becoming smaller, vanishing into the distance as you sprinted toward one of the exit gates. One that is now open.

He followed.

His heartbeat still thundered in his ears, still demanded answers he did not yet understand.

He would not let you go so easily.

The exit gates gleamed ahead.

With the last of your strength, you threw yourself past them, the fog consuming you whole.

The trial was over.

Tarhos came to a halt.

His armored boots pressed against the dirt. The black spikes of the Entity’s barriers protruding from the ground and keeping him from taking another step.

His blade lowered, his breath slow and controlled beneath his helmet.

His body remained still, but inside, something was not.

That unfamiliar rhythm remained, refusing to fade, a presence in his body that he could not explain.

It lingered.

He lifted his free hand, fingers uncurling, staring at the space where you had once been.

His visor tilted slightly, as if contemplating, as if searching for something invisible.

His head turned back upward, his gaze lingering on the empty horizon where you had disappeared into the Fog.

He had cut down countless warriors, cowards, fighters and survivors alike.

He had hunted many who dared to defy him.

But you?

You had stirred something inside him.

A slow, deliberate step backward. Then another. He sheathed his zweihänder with practiced ease.

The battlefield still burned around him, but his mind was elsewhere. Because you had become something more than just another survivor. Something worth seeking. Something worth keeping.

The Knight turned, stepping back into the blackened ruin of Shattered Square.

He would see you again.

The Oni

The ancient halls of the Yamaoka Estate groaned beneath the weight of time. Wind screamed through broken shoji doors, carrying whispers of the dead across splintered wood and blood-slicked floors. Once serene, the garden had become a shrine to carnage. Maple leaves soaked in crimson and stone lanterns streaked with violence.

David Tapp was running.

He had been running since the moment he saw it. A monstrous figure emerging from the fog and roaring with the fury of a thousand condemned souls.

The Oni.

Not a man. Not even a killer. A legend of wrath made manifest.

David's lungs burned as he tore through the ruined courtyard, the world spinning around him. His legs were lead, his body bruised and battered and every step scraped against the edge of collapse. The splintered and rotting torii gate loomed ahead. A gateway to nowhere.

The Oni was upon him, crashing through the mists like a force of nature. His kanabo scraped deep trenches into the ground. A grotesque extension of his rage. His veins pulsed with glowing fury and his eyes locked on the prey just within reach.

He had him. He would end it.

That was until you suddenly stepped between them.

A blur. Fragile. Human. But in that instant, you were unshakable. You weren’t a survivor. You weren’t prey. You were defiance itself. Flinging yourself between death and the man it hunted.

The Oni struck without being able to stop himself. The kanabo came down with the force of a landslide, cleaving the air with a sound that seemed to tear the very sky apart. There was no time to scream, no moment to flinch. It was too fast.

It did not hit David.

It struck you.

Your body absorbed the brunt of the blow with a sickening crunch. Bones groaning under the unimaginable weight. You were lifted off your feet and hurled across the courtyard like a broken doll. The world spun as you hit the stones, then fell still. Blood filled your mouth. Your vision blurred, mud and blood mixing into an distinguishable haze. Pain wasn't even pain anymore. It was a roaring silence that swallowed your senses whole.

But David was safe.

That was all that mattered.

And yet, the killing blow never followed.

A shadow loomed. The Oni stood over you, massive and seething, his aura flickering with scarlet fury. His breath came in ragged gusts. Fogging the space between you. The kanabo trembled in his grip.

He stared.

And in that heartbeat, he knew.

He had waited a lifetime to feel something like this again. Not rage. Not vengeance. Something else.

But you moved.

Your fingers clawed into the cold, wet earth, slipping once, then finding purchase. The taste of blood coated your tongue, metallic and thick. Your chest heaved as your breath rasped like a dying fire, but still you pulled one knee under you, then the other. You forced yourself upright, trembling, swaying… And standing.

It wasn't just pain that kept you grounded. It was purpose. A desperate, flickering will to survive.

He saw it.

The thought alone of you escaping him sent a surge of fury tearing through his soul. His veins flaring like molten rivers of crimson.

The Oni's eyes burned brighter, a mixture of surprise and rage twisting within the holes of his mask. For a moment, he hesitated, his kanabo lowering ever so slightly.

Then he surged forward, a growl tearing from his throat, muscles flexing as he lunged like a living avalanche. But mid-stride, his fury refocused. He did not want you dead.

With a swift motion, he discarded the kanabo, letting it crash into the earth behind him. From thin air, he drew his katana. Sleek, precise, restrained. It gleamed faintly. A blade not meant to kill this time, but to cut a path to capture.

He wanted you alive.

He would take you with one hand if he had to.

But he was too late.

Your body lurched forward, driven by instinct and terror, your feet dragging through leaves and broken stone as you fled through the mist.

You kept moving, despite the heavy strides that followed you from up close. Lungs on fire, every step pulled from a reserve of strength you didn’t know you had. Stones slipped beneath you. The world narrowed to the gate ahead.

And you ran through it.

Behind you, The Oni roared. But not in triumph.

He reached the edge of the open field, only to be met by the Entity’s cruel barrier. Ebony spikes erupted from the ground, halting him mid-charge. His katana struck one of them with a deafening clang, sending sparks into the eternal night.

He growled low, the sound echoing like thunder trapped in his chest. His aura pulsed around him, wild and furious, but restrained.

He would not forget this.

He had waited a lifetime to feel something other than rage. And now, it was already slipping through his fingers.

He glared into the darkness where you'd vanished, the fog already swallowing your trail. But the trial was not over. Not for him.

He would find you again. Inside the Fog. Inside one of his trials.

And next time, there would be no escape.