Trapped - Dead By Daylight

The MacMillan Estate

When the fog consumed her body and her dark world became impossibly darker, Meg knew that this was the start of yet another trial. It had become routine, start a trial and try to survive; you either escaped or you died and then the cycle started again. She wouldn't say it bored her, because each trial was just as exhausting and fearfully thrilling as the last; in some cases, just as painful. If anything, they just irritated her now. What she wouldn't give for a warm bed and a normal life again.

When the fog finally cleared, she knew immediately by the sketchy structures and the deep blue hue colouring the surrounding area that she was in the MacMillan Estate. Though the killers were not limited to their own arenas, they were more often found in their own territories than not. The other survivors had given fitting names to each killer based on their abilities or other key features and the killer that lurked around the Estate was commonly known as the Trapper. Meg however figured this out the hard way when she was new to the trials; she had vaulted through an open window only to have a rusty bear trap clamp painfully tight around her left ankle. Seeing that huge masked man stomping over to her had left her traumatised for a while after the trial was over, but the most traumatising thing about the trials were the hooks. She hated the hooks, everyone did.

She took in her surroundings or at least what she could of it. She had seen Dwight burn a murky reagent in the hopes of cover out in the open. She saw the faint flicker of a nearby lamp advertising the generator that sat in the dirt below it. She kept herself low and made her way towards the weak light source. She wasn't too good at crouching, she struggled to move with any sort of urgency or at least it seemed. Seeing how fast Nea crept around in previous trials made her slightly jealous; she'd have to ask Nea to teach her a thing or two. In return, she could teach Nea how to run faster to avoid being caught.

Once she reached the generator, she wasted no time trying to repair it. The wires sparked together and brought a small amount of life to the rotten machine. The gears began to turn ever so slowly as the generator began to pump out small amounts of power but it wasn't nearly enough. Five generators were needed to power the two exit gates that sat on the outer walls of the arena but only two were needed to ensure a lone survivor could escape through the hatch hidden somewhere within the walls. So lost in her concentration she failed to notice someone creeping up behind her until a hand was placed on her shoulder.

Before she could scream, another hand clamped around her mouth and muffled the noise. "Easy Meg, it's just me." Came the soft voice that Meg recognised as Claudette. She pulled her hand away from the redheads mouth and moved to the opposite side of the generator.

"Some sort of warning would be preferable next time," Meg huffed, taking a few deep breaths to calm her rapid heart rate. They worked efficiently together and as the generator became more lively, Meg noticed that the killer had yet to chase them down; how strange. "Any idea of who the killer is?"

"Trapper," Claudette grunted "For sure, I've seen a trap or two laying around between palettes and near windows. Seems like he's intent on catching somebody who's pretty evasive."

Meg couldn't help the chuckle that escaped her lips. "That would be me, I'm always giving him a good run around. Besides, it buys you guys some time to do other generators." Meg had excellent stamina, she knew it just as well as the others. Her speed and agility made her a difficult target for the Trapper, but he was not one to give up on a chase and she had to give him some sort of credit for that.

"I don't doubt you on that for a minute Meg," Claudette said hesitantly. "But the Trapper isn't stupid; every time he chases you, he's learning your tricks. You'll run out eventually and he'll have you hung up on a hook in every trial."

Meg frowned, now deep in thought. Claudette was right, Meg had been having a difficult time escaping him when it came to chases recently. She'd barely skimmed several bear traps and slipped away from his large hands when vaulting through tight windows. He was beginning to catch up and Meg hated to admit it. Before she could open her mouth to speak, a harsh snap echoed through the empty air followed by a cry of pain, too deep to be Dwight.