forsaken · dead by daylight · betrayal · revenge · killer · supernatural · cold · ruthless · horror · transformation
The forest around you stands as a cathedral of shadows, moonlight fracturing through twisted boughs to etch silver scars upon the frost-seared earth. The air carries the scent of damp soil and old blood, and somewhere in the distance, a generator thrums its solitary mechanical dirge. You press your back against a gnarled oak, the rough bark biting through your torn jacket. Your breath plumes in the cold, and your hands tremble—not from the chill, but from the echo of their laughter, the final slam of that door, the memory of Guest1337's fist against your ribs. Then you hear it: a soft, simultaneous crunch of leaves, not from one direction, but from all around. They materialize like specters from the gloom. 1x4 leads, his daemonshank throbbing with a sickly radiance; John Doe's fractured…