Chapter Text
Lately Jake has had visions in his sleep.
In a time where he used to find comfort in wasting away the hours, he’s come to despise sleep, to a point where he refuses to indulge in the plentiful naps he would often take in between being whisked away to his trials.
It wouldn’t be an odd occurrence for another survivor to stumble across Jake napping underneath a tree someplace away from the campfire, arms crossed over his chest and head tilted down as he passed the time.
No, it was different now.
Maybe The Entity decided he was spending too much time asleep, perhaps this was Her way of torturing him in order to keep him awake.
Because now every time Jake closes his eyes, it’s the same scene. In his dream he’s beating a rabbit that won’t die, beady black eye locking with his own as he strikes its side for the hundredth time, desperate to end its misery after having gone too far to stop.
He sees familiar faces that he’s tried so hard to forget despite the progressing years, harshly reminded of the people he’s let down. Jake was never capable of meeting their expectations.
Always, he was reminded of the legacies left discontinued because he was too weak.
Of course Jake had a stronger will now, but it didn’t matter anymore. He wasn’t strong enough when it counted and it cost him greatly.
"You are a failure." His father’s voice hissed in his mind, and Jake awoke with a start, breaths jagged and heavy with ravenette hair uncomfortably matted to his sweat-slicked forehead.
He puts his face in his hands, having to remind himself it was only a dream. A sick way of The Entity playing with his head.
Though he can’t help the sob that escapes his lips when his fingertips graze tears that were already falling from his eyes long before he awoke, biting his lip to avoid another escaping as his body trembles.
His throat felt constricted, but it wasn’t anything he wasn’t used to. Keeping sobs in was something he was well-trained to do.
After a while of struggling to control his breathing and recollect his thoughts, he finally raises his head and paws the leftover tears away from his eyes. It was early morning from what he could tell with the warm, artificial colours seeping in through the lodge’s window.
It meant he could take a stroll without being disturbed by trials just yet.
Jake slowly clambers out of bed, picking up his green trail jacket he had tossed on the floor the previous night, before pulling it on, quietly so as to not disturb the other survivors still resting in the same cabin.
The Entity wasn’t too stingy on giving the survivors comfortable places to rest, especially with the ever-expanding cabin that housed them all. It was always warm there despite no furnace being supplied, and every survivor had a room to themselves, even if they were a little on the small side.
Jake’s room was furnished with a twin-sized bed, a carved wooden desk and a matching wardrobe. That was all a survivor ever needed. The only belongings The Entity allowed them to have were clothes and supplies for trials, so not much storage room was required anyways.
The saboteur steps out of his room, glancing up and down the hallway of doors, before starting to head for the stairs as he let his gloved hand glide on the railing.
The loft was where all the rooms were put, while downstairs was left for lounging, dining, and other essential areas like that. He was glad The Entity had good enough taste to make the building this cozy for them, unlike the other usual sceneries he’s seen in trial realms.
If he had to stay in someplace like The Coldwind Farms, he may have gone crazy by now.
Jake lifts a hand to raise his scarf over his noise as he exits the lodge, allowing a sigh to escape his lips. Now that napping was out of the question for Jake, he often spent time clearing his head by taking long walks into the forestry surrounding the realms main building.
Something he enjoyed doing was bird-watching, even if the only feathery critters that existed in the realm were crows. He always felt like he had a connection with them in the real world, and that fortunately hadn’t changed upon his arrival here.
Though he was a little skeptical at first, disturbed by the thought of the crows being a direct connection to The Entity, or even, The Entity Herself, he eventually caved and decided to stop being mindful when things got lonely.
The crows were nice company, and sometimes when he napped, he would awake to look up to the greenery above and find the crows perched up and watching over him.
Usually one would be creeped out with a situation like that, but Jake derived a sense of comfort from it instead.
It was much different than the hungry, expectant gaze of wolves or scrutinizing looks of people, and Jake’s had his fair share of both.
Now when Jake greeted the feathered creatures in the safety of the forest, the crows would sometimes greet him back with scrap metals taken from who knows where. He soon came to the conclusion that the crows probably circled between both the survivor realm and killer realms, and the mere thought sparked something deep in his chest at the thought of the little gifts being taken from killers.
He mused at the image of The Trapper having things snatched away behind his back by his feathery friends, only for them to end up in Jake’s toolbox to disarm his traps within later trials.
Now, Jake keeps his gaze on the sky as he strolls down a path he was most familiar with, noticing a crow perched up on a branch and staring right back at him here and there as he passed by, before it fluttered to follow after by perching closer, then repeating the process as Jake continued to walk.
He watched this happen until he had a flock of crows following him now, a faint smile tugging at the corner of his lips underneath his scarf.
At least he wasn’t completely alone in this realm, he told himself.
Jake watches the skies until he feels a kink in his neck form, sighing as he angles his head back down to pop it, before pausing at the sight in front of him, almost stumbling over his own feet at the abrupt stop.
In front of him, fog.
Though not just fog; crimson fog.
He didn’t even know how to comprehend seeing this, instead just staring warily as he watched the clouds of crimson rolling in but never passing a certain point. Jake had come down this path more times than he could count and had never come across anything like this.
Usually the Entity kept him from going on forever by gradually knitting the trees so close together it created an impassable barrier.
Should he go back and tell the other survivors about this? ..No, it might disappear by the time he’s back and he’d just make a fool of himself.
Jake bites his lower lip as his mind races, lost in a trance as he stared at the fog, before almost jumping out of his skin when the murder of crows in the trees above suddenly swoop down to whip past him and disappear into the fog.
The ravenette quickly reaches out to them, eyes wide at the potential danger they might’ve been put in for doing so, before he feels his nose scrunch up as a small scoff escapes his lips.
Fuck it.
Jake is quick to chase after his flock of friends, arms raised to try and wave the fog out of his eyes as an attempt to find his surroundings. But to no avail; he was blinded by the thick, cloudy substance that almost reminded him of one of The Clown’s irritating little concoctions.
He keeps walking, even as the passing moments struck a twinge of fear in his heart that maybe he’ll just find nothing and be trapped in this never-ending fog forever.
That was, until Jake tripped on a curb and landed flat on his chest with an ‘oomf!’ escaping his lungs, winding him. He rolls onto his side and gasps painfully for air, only to slowly open his eyes to look at his surroundings in alert.
He quickly recognizes the area as Haddonfield, which was a major surprise. None of the survivors had been taken to a trial in Haddonfield for maybe a few months now, putting them under the assumption The Entity was either tinkering with it or had just abandoned the realm entirely.
Jake slowly sits up on the pavement, observing his surroundings. It felt like forever since he’d seen the place and it was a little jarring, but he had somewhat missed the trial playground. It’s hard not to get tired of other realms when you’re put through them constantly for years.
The ravenette pries his gaze away to stand up, glancing briefly down at himself to dust his jacket off, before looking back up again. The police car had its lights switched off, he noticed.
Not that he was complaining; sometimes the bright red-and-blue lighting was an eyesore.
The saboteur starts to head down one of the paved sidewalks, drinking in his surroundings as he takes note of the lack of pallets, chests, totems and other items usually present in a trial.
So maybe the place really was under construction.
Jake’s gaze then lands on a small kiddy playground nearby, his expression instantly lighting up a bit. Well, at least he had something to do now.
He’d never admit it, but Jake has always wanted to mess around on it when he used to have trials here, but that of course was difficult when he had bloodthirsty killers constantly riding his ass.
He moves to plop down on a swing despite it being on the small side, before starting to slowly swing himself on it by kicking his feet against the ground, letting his thoughts wander now.
Jake was expecting The Entity to realize he was here any second now and whisk him back to his own realm, but he was still choosing to enjoy the time he had in peace.
Maybe he’d check out the Myer’s house while he was still allowed to be here.
He looks up in the direction of it upon getting a sudden strong temptation to do so, before dragging his feet on the ground to slow the swing down so he could hop off and walk to it.
The saboteur certainly noticed the presence of a front door, since usually the entity removed them all during trials. He looked down at the knob as he felt his heart start to race in anticipation before turning the handle and stepping inside, immediately scanning over his surroundings.
The house was certainly a lot more furnished than from what he was used to; maybe as a result of The Entity messing with it.
Jake then takes a step towards the kitchen, but stops when noticing… food items.
There was an open box of some sort of sugary cereal on the dining table, a few of them scattered on the surface with what looked like some milk stains as well. His gaze circles around the kitchen in awe, letting out a small chuckle into his scarf when even spotting a cookie jar shaped like a friendly looking bear on top of the fridge.
Was this The Entities way of saying Myers had a sweet tooth?
The saboteur makes his way out of the kitchen, eager to see more new details of the house. He finds the living room, looking at a very old, retro television sitting on a stand, before his gaze lands on a sofa that had blankets all messily sprawled out on the cushions and even hanging off the sides as if someone had slept there.
He walks over to it, picking up the blanket to hold it up and observe the patterning on it, before tossing it back onto the couch and looking towards the area that connected the living room to the entranceway, only for his eyes to settle on the staircase there.
Jake eagerly makes his way to it, before treading up the stairs as his hand glides up the railing, only to look around at all the rooms with closed doors. Now which one did he want to go through first?
The ravenette tries to recollect which rooms were bedrooms, before approaching the door down a small hallway, opening it and finding that the hinges didn’t squeak with content.
He takes a step into the room, only for his entire body to instantly freeze when he sees a figure on the bed placed very close to where Jake was standing. He takes in the head of long, dirty blonde hair spilling out all over the pillows and the large man’s shoulders, navy blue overalls pulled down to his waist and a tight black t-shift fitting his torso.
Jake could only stare in both awe and horror at the sight, his instincts screaming at him to get the fuck out of there, but his body was betraying him. He was frozen in place, breathing raggedly into his scarf as he heard his heart pounding in his ears.
Just to confirm what he was really seeing, his eyes briefly dart over to the white mask placed on the nightstand next to the bed, before back at the figure.
Yeah, he was actually looking at Michael-fucking-Myers outside of a trial.
He stares for a while longer in anticipation to see if the large killer would make any moves to suddenly attack him, before forcing himself to take a deep, but quiet breath to calm himself.
If he wanted to walk out of this alive, he needed to keep a level head.
But at the same time, something wanted him to hang around just a little longer. Definitely one of those ‘curiosity killed the cat’ moments.
Jake slowly takes his hand off the door handle, before carefully approaching the bedside as he examines the sleeping killer.
So Michael actually had long, blonde hair? He was expecting something closer to the appearance of his mask, though when he thought a little further, it made sense.
Laurie had blonde hair, so why wouldn’t Michael be the same?
The saboteur felt his heart flutter a little at the thrill of this moment, though he was a little disappointed Micheal didn’t decide to sleep on his back. Seeing his face would’ve really made this an encounter to remember.
Though, maybe he could..?
Jake bites his lip, before reaching out to very lightly trace the shell of Michael’s ear that was peeking out from behind his sprawled locks of hair.
His hand then quickly retracts as he watches the killer shift a little, head turning to the opposite side to cover his ear. Damn. Now he was facing away from Jake.
The deep sigh Michael then let out made Jake’s heart flutter.
It was… an enamouring sound.
He had to go through with this, he encouraged himself in his head despite his instincts telling him to run while he still could.
Jake slowly raises his hand to gently brush the back of a knuckle over Michael’s other ear, lips pursing underneath his scarf, only to earn no reaction this time.
He waits a beat, before repeating the action, only for a large hand to suddenly shoot up and rub it. The ravenette swore he could feel his heart lurch out of his chest in fright, but he managed to not scream, instead just having quickly brought his hand out of the way.
He watches as Michael lowers his hand again, and Jake releases a silent breath.
The saboteur was losing hope on getting to see Michael’s face without waking him at this rate, feeling a frown form on his lips at the thought.
He just wanted to put a face to the masked killer so maybe the trials he had with him would be a little easier; Jake could spend them laughing at the thought of an ugly face making even uglier expressions during chases. Hell, maybe he could even blackmail the big brute.
There was a chance that Michael could be insecure about his looks.
Jake feels his determination strengthen once again, looking at Michael’s mask placed on the nightstand next to him, before carefully picking it up to subtly stash it underneath the bed.
Even if Michael woke up and went to kill him for being in his realm, it’d still be worth it to get a look at his face now that it’d be guaranteed. Jake intakes a small breath, before moving to get up from where he was crouched to lean over the edge of the bed, trying to peek over Michael to see if he could get a look at him now.
He frowns when seeing that Michael’s hair hid everything from his point of view, before reaching out to start slowly brushing it away, but is stopped by a hand shooting up to grip his wrist and stop him.
Jake’s eyes widened, a surge of fear crashing down on him as he suddenly regretted everything leading up to this moment. Though Michael didn’t move, instead just keeping a possessive grip on Jake’s wrist and leaving the Saboteur to just stare in fright, heart pounding in anticipation for the next move.
Was Michael really keeping still because he didn’t want his face seen?
"Um, you have pretty hair." Jake manages to awkwardly make out, only to wince when the grip around his wrist tightens.
Michael slowly moves Jake’s hand away from his face, only for the killer to slowly sit up, still turned away from the survivor. Now Michael had his hand pinned down to the bed in an uncomfortable position, but Jake refrained from any discomforted sounds.
Even in the face of death, he was still determined.
"Listen, I’m sorry for intruding in your home. I think there’s been.. a mistake." Jake cautions, watching Michael closely.
"I didn’t even know you were here, I promise."
Michael stays silent and unmoving, only for his free hand to raise up, making a small grabbing motion. Jake quickly registered that he wanted his mask.
The ravenette feels his mind race as he debates on what to do now, taking in his options.
If he handed him the mask, maybe Michael wouldn’t kill him?
But at the same time… It would defeat the purpose of all his effort.
He may never get a chance like this again.
Eventually Jake lets out a defeated sigh, before fishing underneath the bed to grab the mask and place it in Michael’s hand.
He watches the killer close his fingers around it and bring it to his front to look down at it, before finally releasing Jake’s wrist to pull it on, stuffing all of his hair underneath it in the process.
The saboteur pulls his hand back to himself to bring some relief to his now stinging wrist, rubbing it, before looking up to see Michael with his head now turned to face him, gazing at him from under the mask.
Jake can’t help but purse his lips as he feels a tension in the air rise, before taking a small step back when he sees Michael turn himself around on the bed, planting his feet down on the floor right at the bedside. He was still sitting and making no other
movement to stand.
The ravenette stares warily for a moment, only to allow his tensed shoulders to slack a little despite his heart racing in his chest.
"So… I managed to get here by passing through some red fog I found in my own realm. I don’t know if The Entity intended this or not, but I find it hard to believe She would want a survivor in a suspended realm." He sheepishly confesses, doing his best to keep his voice from wavering in nervousness underneath Michael’s intense stare.
Jake fidgeted with his hands as he waited for a reaction from Michael, something, anything to indicate he had been heard.
Then, slowly, the masked killer arose from the bed, making Jake realize just how fucking huge the man was compared to him even with the slouch Michael displayed in his stance. He could easily graze a height of seven feet if the man decided to straighten his back, Jake noted.
The survivor had to crane his neck up in order to look at him, and though he tried not to display it, he was intimidated. He wouldn’t be surprised if Michael decided to just crush his skull that very moment.
But he didn’t.
Instead, Jake watched with flared eyes as the killer made a move to trudge past him, exiting the room and turning the corner as if not acknowledging the survivor was even there. The saboteur stares in shock at the empty doorway for a moment, before finding the strength to move his legs and trail after the man, assuming that Michael was expecting him to follow.
He watches as Michael descends the stairs with long strides, easily covering distance with his longer legs while Jake was left having to jog just to catch up to him at the bottom of the staircase.
Jake lets his gaze land on the back of Michael’s head, finding himself already missing the appearance of long blonde locks spilling down his shoulders instead of the ugly black mop stitched onto the white bogeyman mask that covered his head.
He follows Michael to the front door, as to where the man bends down to pull on his black leather boots, heels thudding against the hardwood flooring as he basically stomps them on, before glancing over his shoulder at Jake.
The ravenette flits his gaze back up to him quickly, feeling his heart start to race in his chest yet again.
Michael stares for a moment, before opening the door as his head turns back forwards, stepping outside and leaving the door wide open for Jake to follow through.
Jake huffs as he reminds himself that he was fine, Michael probably wasn’t going to harm him at this point, before stepping out after him and making sure to close the door behind himself.
The pair then make their way down the street, with Jake making sure to stay behind Micheal at not having the courage to walk next to him. The killer walked at a slow pace, boots scraping the pavement as he approached the end of the street towards the structure of an exit gate.
The ravenette observed it with a small surprised blink, seeing that it was wide open and had fog slowly rolling in from the far end of it, though as usual, it never crossed a certain point.
Jake then looks up at Michael upon watching the killer stop at the mouth of the gate, his masked face turning down towards the small survivor.
Reluctant, he stares at the Shape for a moment longer, before prying his gaze away to look towards the fog ahead of them. Then, he starts walking.
"Thank you." The saboteur quietly manages once Michael is out of his line of vision. He was too timid to say it to his face, in fear that the killer would suddenly change his mind.
Though as Jake stepped into the fog, all he felt was the blank stare that bore into the back of his head.