Memory Logs

The Red Strings

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Every waking moment, he'd been thinking about that damned boy.

Or, more specifically, what that damned boy had said.

"Yeah. That's how love usually is."

The little scraggly-haired fool didn't know what he was talking about. Make him see how foolish he is, his father growled. He is weak. Show him - show them all - how strong you are. He must pay.

He'd grown quite used to ignoring the whispers of his father lately, although he couldn't say the temptation wasn't still there. Beating something that had been drilled into him for years? Nigh impossible. That was something only an eternity of being trapped in the Fog could start to erase. And it had. Even before he'd given Meg that sketch, the voice of his father had been slowly waning, being replaced with ever-present misery and exhaustion. Evan wanted to rest. He no longer felt strong, like the fierce hunter he'd been upon arriving here; but being around Meg... the Little Rabbit... she had shown him that maybe... maybe there was something to hold onto, after all.

He thought about how she corrected Jake when he'd called him the Trapper. "His name is Evan," she'd snapped, leaving no room for argument.

If she thought his title no longer applied... maybe he could let go of it, too.

Appearing on the grounds of the Chapel with a trap in one hand and his cleaver in the other, Evan lifted the trap to examine it, reminiscing. Once upon a time, these had been his greatest weapon. Not only had he learned to hunt game with the methodically and carefully set traps, but he'd captured many a survivor in them, too. They had made him strong; formidable; a threat.

Now they drained him.

Tossing it aside and watching it hit the dirt with a clatter, he began walking the grounds, wondering if he'd see her amongst the survivors. Not that he would know what to do if he did... he had been avoiding her lately, utterly confused and irritated by Jake's words; words that couldn't seem to leave his brain no matter how hard he tried to push them out.

Evan couldn't - wouldn't - believe it. He'd never loved anyone except... except his mother. And for a long time, he believed he loved his father, too - but realized after decades of contemplation in the Fog that it was misguided. His father had made him strong; but he had also made him weak. Crippled him .

Evan paused in his stride the moment he saw Meg in the upper floors of the Chapel; she worked on a generator, blue-gray eyes focused on her work, a strand of red hair falling into her face. He was just as struck by her beauty now as he had been the first time he saw her; although his physical reaction was entirely different. The first time he'd glimpsed Meg, he remembered wanting to corner her. Like a predator to prey, he'd wanted to grab her, squeeze the life out of her intimately, because he hadn't known any other way to deal with the strange emotions he'd felt. He wanted to hurt her. To smear her beauty so he wouldn't have to face it anymore.

And now, he wanted to bask in it; to let her wash over him like the sweet rays of a morning sun.

Yeah. That's how love usually is.

Evan turned away, clenching his cleaver in a white-knuckled grip. Finding another survivor - the one named Kate - messing around with a totem near a pile of junk, he lazily swung at her; even if she hadn't dodged lithely out of the way, he doubted he would have hit her. "My word - you're gettin' lazy!" She chided, though there was still fear in her posture. He was still a killer after all, and she a survivor.

He rumbled and gave chase as she ran, her trail leading him around the map. One large step caused something to pull in his abdomen and he paused, seeing fresh blood seeping through his dirty overalls. The wounds he'd sustained from the male members of the Legion still hadn't fully healed yet; he assumed this was more of the Entity's punishment, keeping him in pain like this. With a low growl, Evan continued on his way until his chase led him over to the circus. There Kate was working on a generator with two others; the woodland boy, Jake, and another one he remembered all too well. He'd once thought this boy was too close to Meg and had given him a death so brutal that it had been sickening. Even for him.