Chapter Text
…
The icy wind cuts through the open window and buffets your hair as you stare out into the black forest beyond the road. Your boyfriend, Max, glances sidelong as you adjust the map in your hands and clear your throat.
“What?” he asks, voice laced with tension as always. You roll your eyes. “Are you trying to tell me we’re lost?”
“No, just that there’s a turn coming up,” you tell him briskly.
Your relationship had been strained all year, with you going to school for your veterinary degree and Max struggling to keep a job and make a home in his shitty apartment for the two of you. You’re hoping this summer as counselors at Hackett’s Quarry summer camp will fix things. It’s your last hope— a shot in the dark.
“Oh shit, when?” he asks, whipping his head around wildly.
“Woah, dammit, Max—!” You reach out and steady the wheel before he crashes you both into the ditch. “I’ll let you know when it’s time, just keep your eyes on the road.”
His face turns beet red behind his freckles. “Right. Sorry, babe.”
You ignore him, trying not to be so irritable, but it’s hard when all of your communication seems to get lost in the wire– even sitting across from each other in the front of a car.
“I think it’s Beech Lake Road,” you say slowly, checking the map again. A prick of worry travels down your spine. “Wait. No– that’s to get to Beech Lake. Hence the name, I guess…”
“That’s… where we’re headed,” Max says dumbly. “Aren’t we?”
You growl. “Max! We’re going to the lake at the summer camp, which is— I can’t remember, but it’s not some random lake.” You groan in annoyance. “Can you pull over? I need a minute to look at this map.”
He sighs but doesn’t pull over. Scouring the paper, you realize the summer camp isn’t even listed on this map. “Shit!” you curse, hitting the dashboard in front of you and shoving the map down.
“What? What?” Your boyfriend glances warily at you, but keeps his gaze mostly on the road.
You pinch the bridge of your nose. “We’ve been going the wrong way, I think–” You sigh harshly and check your phone. “I’ll just have to find it on GPS…” The screen stares blankly back up at you, blinking until you open the settings and check your connection. No bars. Even your hotspot has run out, and you’re lost in the woods.
In an instant, the entire trip has been tossed on its head.
“What’s wrong?” Max squeaks, his eyes wide.
You don’t even know how to respond. You’re fucked. “I have no signal and no idea where we are,” you admit, voice a whisper.
“Fuck,” Max groans.
“Just stay on this road and maybe we can find our way to a motel–” you try, cutting yourself off with a growl. “This is hopeless.” You lean your head back on the seat annoyedly. “We’re gonna die out here.”
“Hey, come on,” Max wheedles. “Stay positive, babe.”
“Max.” Your eyes widen as you try in vain to see farther than your body will physically allow. You try anyway, swearing you saw movement on the side of the road just a second ago. “Slow down–”
“We’ll find the camp and everything is gonna be–”
“MAX SLOW DOWN!” you scream, your eyes finally taking in the image of something hulking and dark half-crawling, half-lurching across the pavement from the woods. You reach over and crank the wheel sideways, the side of the car spinning and connecting with a sickening, bloody thud against the creature.
The sounds of tires squealing and your boyfriend screaming melds into a numbing symphony that makes your head spin. Or maybe that’s the car.
Tumbling into the ditch and then further down the unending hill through the trees, the vehicle crashes and jolts and finally rolls to a slow stop in front of a fallen branch.
Heaving breaths are taken by the two of you until the windows are fogged up, and then Max turns to you, his blue eyes rimmed red.
“Are you okay?” he whispers.
You nod shakily, swallowing and licking your dry lips. “Yeah,” you huff, heart racing. “Are you?”
Max checks his body and then nods, too. “Fine.” He cranes his neck to stare into the darkness of the forest behind you and asks, “Shit, what was that?”
You shake your head, feeling dizzy. “I have no idea.” You don’t mention how the monster had seemed too large to be a deer or a dog, and something about the way it stood up at the last second seemed almost– human.
“I should check the car,” Max reasons after another long minute of silence. You nod.
“Yeah, um…” You whip out your phone and turn the flashlight on. “I’ll go with you.”
Your boyfriend cautiously opens his door and steps out into the pitch black of the woods, his eyes darting this way and that. You follow, meeting him around the front of the car, where smoke is pouring from in plumes.
He curses, popping it open and peering inside.
“It looks fine,” he says after a thorough inspection. Your gaze drifts into the forest, where you thought you could hear branches snapping. Curiosity overwhelming you, you turn your light to flash into the woods, and Max snaps at you. “Hey, I need that,” he says.
You sigh, turning it back and worriedly glancing back at the trees. You’re sure there’s something out there… you just don’t know what. After another minute of scouring the engine for any signs of an issue, Max throws his hands up and slams the top shut, stomping back to the car and hopping inside.
He calls, “You coming?”
You know you should hurry to safety but you sense something out there. Something important. You nod to him and reply, “Just a sec.” Tiptoeing, you press further into the brush, catching sight of something metal glinting beyond the trees. A cage.
What the hell? You squint to read the painted, circus-esque letters on the side: Silas the Dog Boy. Beyond that, a sign, wooden and rotted: Harum Scarum Sideshow Spectacular. Your perplexion deepens.
Another noise causes you to whirl, catching a glimpse of what you could swear was an old woman huddled in the woods.
Horrified, and decidedly done exploring, you rush to the passenger side, getting in and locking your door quickly.
“Well this blows,” Max huffs.
You stare at him, still terror stricken. “You said there’s nothing wrong with the car,” you snap.
“There’s not,” he sighs. “But how are we supposed to drive out of here?”
“Oh, dammit,” you grumble, running one hand through your hair in exasperation.
You see a flash of light behind you, up on the road, and then it disappears again. You’re tempted to get back out and investigate, but Max brings your attention back to him with a hand on your thigh. “At least we’re all alone,” he grins, bouncing his brows hopefully.
You glower at him. “Are you fucking serious? Do you really think I want to do anything with you right now while we’re trapped in the woods?”
He shrugs, his face red. “I just thought—“
“No, you didn’t, Max! You never think!” All of the pent up anger at him that’s been stewing for months begins to bubble up. “Just like you’re not thinking now!”
“ You were the one who didn’t look at the fucking map and figure out there’s no summer camp there!” he screams back.
“Fuck you,” you spit, heart splitting in two. “I need some air—”
Just as the words leave your lips, your heart ceases beating. Movement outside Max’s window sends your stomach clenching in fear and you hear yourself gasp as you realize someone is outside the car. Someone.
You’re about to scream again when the light from the overhead glints off the shiny metal on the torso of the stranger. A badge.
Oh thank God, you think, a cop.
The cop brings his hand up and raps his knuckle sharply on the window. Max startles.
“Fuck,” he breathes, turning around and rolling the window down. “Officer—! Hey, you scared us—”
“Is anyone in the vehicle injured?” the man interrupts your boyfriend, stooping to glower inside the car.
His voice is gruff, eyes exhausted and laced with poison. You shiver as his cold gaze falls on you, and something indistinguishable flickers deep behind his pitch black irises.
“No, sir, uh— we’re both fine,” Max stammers, his face getting redder by the second. “We, um…”
The officer raises one brow, unimpressed. “Care to tell me what happened?” he growls.
You want to smack this son of a bitch. You’re the ones who are scared out of your minds and almost died! Why is he pissed?
Nevertheless, you answer honestly, “We hit something— or— I mean, almost did. I think.”
“Something?” he questions, brow furrowing deeper.
You swallow. “Uh— we didn’t see— they… ran off before we could see.”
“ They? ” The cop’s tone changes to a hiss, sending your heart racing. “Ma’am, are you telling me you hit someone?”
“No!” you cry, forcing a laugh at the absurdity. Though… you’re not entirely sure yourself. “At least…” You gulp again. “I don’t think so.”
He works his jaw, and you shift nervously in your seat. Is he gonna arrest you?
You almost ask Max to pitch in with his memory of what went down, but the cop stands back and says through gritted teeth, “Stay in the car.”
The two of you obey, practically twiddling your thumbs while you wait for the cop to return, and you stifle a harsh word in Max’s direction.
“When do you think he’s—” Your boyfriend stops short as you hear a clunk on the back of the car, and crane your neck to see the officer marching back up the hill.
“What the hell is he doing?” you whisper, fear making you shake in your seat as you force a brave face on.
Max just sits there, letting out a yelp and grabbing the wheel in panic as the car starts to roll backward. You realize suddenly that the cop is towing you out of the forest, up from the ditch and back onto the road. Max restarts the vehicle and straightens out, shutting it off again to wait for the cop to return.
He does so with the same malice pouring from him as he stalks up to Max’s window.
“You kids wanna tell me what in the hell you were doing all the way out here, this late at night?” His voice is smooth, like butter, but the warm sound chills you to the bone— worry gripping your heart like a vice as his eyes pin you to your seat.
When Max doesn’t speak, you clear your throat and pipe up. “Uh, we’re heading to Hackett’s Quarry summer camp,” you explain nervously, risking a smile he doesn’t return. “We’re new counselors.” Max nods unhelpfully.
The cop works his lips, eyes narrowing. “You’re not supposed to be here until tomorrow,” he muses.
“Yeah,” you say quickly, “but, um— we figured we’d get settled in.”
The cop stares at you incredulously.
“We called ahead,” you snap, growing impatient. “They know we’re coming.”
“And, for the record,” Max finally says, “one of us overestimated our navigation skills and got us sort of completely lost.” He raises his hand to take the blame and you soften a bit. He means well, you know. He always has…
The cop sighs deeply, hanging his head in thought for a moment before looking at you again with a fierce gaze. “Well,” he drones, leaning one hand onto the car intimidatingly, “you’re not gonna make it to Hackett’s Quarry.” His eyes lock onto yours and he sucks his teeth, making your chest squeeze. “Not tonight.”
“Excuse me?” you scoff, throat constricting as the cop turns his head and you’re able to spot a flash of color on his neck. It’s bright, crimson, almost like… blood.
He points forward. “Harbinger motel, it’s the nearest place. You can bunk up there for the night, okay?”
You force a smile, hoping maybe he’ll let you off easy if you playcate him. “I think we’re just gonna stick to our plan, sir,” you say slowly. “I mean— Mr. Hackett knows we’re coming and—”
“No ma’am,” the officer says sternly, turning to glare at you. “You’re going to head to the Harbinger Motel, do you understand?”
You open your mouth to argue, but think better of it at the sight of his serious gaze. “Okay! Fine,” you finally agree, nodding. “Um. Just… one thing— we’re lost,” you tell him, embarrassed for some reason as he sighs in disappointment.
“And we’ve got, like, zero bars,” Max adds.
The cop leans away from the car, hands on his hips for a second before he flicks his hand up in a beckoning motion.
“Alright, ma’am, please step out of the vehicle,” he says.
Your heart beats so hard you swear he can hear it. Max whirls to look at you as you gasp, “Wait, what?”
Your boyfriend shakes his head meaningfully and your head begins to spin— what’s about to happen to you? This cop wouldn’t try anything with Max right here… would he? After all, you were both unarmed and defenseless, and he had the gun on his hip…
“I just wanna show you how to get to the motel, on your map there,” the officer explains impatiently, pointing in the window toward your lap and the map crushed between your legs. “Kay?”
You sigh through your nose annoyedly, getting more antsy and stressed by the second. “Okay…”
Max pats your hand comfortingly before starting to open his door, and the cop’s hand flies to his belt of weapons, eyes wide. “Sir! Please remain in the vehicle.”
Your heart stutters sideways. What was this dude playing at?
You tell Max in your shaking voice, “It’s okay. It’s okay, I got it.”
He nods, swallowing. “Okay.” His blue eyes water as he watches you get out of the car and round the front, meeting the cop at the headlights.
Out here, in the light of the full moon, you’re able to soak up the features of his face better, and you’re mildly surprised to see how unique he looks. You’d be able to pick his face from any crowd, you’re certain, taking in his purses lips, big ears, and deep black eyes— which are round and wide and draw you in instantly.
You slam the map down on the hood of the car and step back to let him work. The man glowers at you, digging a pencil from his pocket.
“Okay,” he starts, examining the paper, “we are…” He unexpectedly sticks the pencil lead into his mouth to wet it— God knows why —and you get a good look at his tongue, and the way his lip curls upwards, his dark eyes locking onto you as he moves. “Here.” He stabs the pencil into the paper and continues. “Harbinger Motel is right about… here.”
“Uh huh,” you say slowly, nodding and plotting while you stare back at him. You peer at the paper and query in an innocent tone, “And Hackett’s Quarry was where, again?”
The man starts to show you, his hand sliding north on the paper and coming to a sudden halt as his eyes grow wide. You curse silently as he frowns, then smirks, leaning back and tucking his pencil away. “Well. I'm sure the fine folks at the Harbinger Motel can guide you there…” He leans in slightly, studying your face as you pretend not to be shaking in your boots. “First thing in the morning.”
You stifle a scoff and grab for the map, stopping as the cop suddenly slams one hand down over it. “Harbinger Motel,” he repeats seriously.
You nod rapidly.
Before you can take the map, the cop’s eyes narrow at you and he holds out one finger to stop you. “Stay still,” he growls.
“What— why?” you snap, heart racing again.
The cop reaches into his pocket and reiterates slowly, “Stay. Still.”
Your eyes flick to Max in the front seat and you silently plead with him to save you. To do anything.
You look back to the cop as he brings his clenched fist— clutching something— up to your face. You slam your eyes shut, as if you’re able to block out the world and make him disappear.
But instead of being tased, shot, stabbed or molested, you feel a gentle swiping of cloth against the skin of your cheek. Your eyes flicker back open carefully and you watch the police officer’s eyes welling with tenderness as he cleans the side of your face of dirt.
He takes a small inhale when he finally pulls away, tucking the handkerchief into his back pocket and mumbling with a small, complicated smile, “Fresh as a daisy.”
You don’t even know what to say, heart stuttering hard against your ribs as you stroke your now-clean face in confusion. What the hell was this guy playing at?
Voice wavering, you back up, eyes still pinned to him. “Thanks,” you spit, yanking the map away and rushing back to the car.
You throw yourself inside next to Max and he says in a hushed tone, “You alright?”
You just squeeze your eyes shut and then exhale sharply as the cop returns to Max’s window for the final time. “Harbinger Motel,” he drones, and you’re tempted to tell him off. “Stay on the road,” he warns.
“Don’t you need a statement–” you begin, but are cut off.
“Have a good night,” he mutters over your question, tapping the car roof twice before sauntering back to his car.
You seeth, waiting until he drives off to finally blurt, “What an ASSHOLE!”
Max lets out a loud laugh, the stress from the whole ordeal finally falling off of him. “Seriously, I mean— and was he like, the creepiest cop of all time?”
You shake your head in disbelief. “By far.”
“I kind of thought he was gonna try to kiss me or something,” Max says in a completely sincere tone. “He got— so close.”
“Sick!” you laugh, shoving him. “Why were you scared? I was the one who had to get out of the fucking car!”
He giggles. “Okay true. Thanks for taking that bullet for me, I guess.”
You roll your eyes, still shaken up. “It was either that or take an actual bullet. That dude was a freak.”
“Well,” Max says with finality. “To Harbinger Motel?”
You smile. “Nope.”
Max’s face falls. “Why not?”
As if consoling a scared puppy, you explain, “I may have just gotten Mr. Policeman to slip up and show me where Hackett’s Quarry is on the map.”
“Are you kidding me?!” Max grins in victory. “Way to go! That guy can suck it.”
“Exactly.” You shrug smugly, trying hard to shake the feeling that this night is far from over. “Now we can get there and unpack and everything will be just fine.”
“Sweet,” Max says, shifting and pulling away from the side of the road.
The rest of the drive is uneventful— and you don’t mention the fight from before, still aching with the guilt of it.
Eventually, after following the way the cop had accidentally shown you, you come up to a turn.
“I think it’s… yeah,” you say, pointing down one road along the path that is on the map. “This way. We should come right up to it.”
Max pulls in, and slows as he sees the large wooden Hackett’s Quarry sign posted at the end of the drive. He smiles hugely at you. “Here we are,” he says.
You nod, trying to smile despite the growing sense of dread in your chest.
Max drives all the way in, and parks near the office building.
“Do you think he’s here?” Max asks.
You shake your head. “It’s late, Mr. Hackett will probably be here in the morning,” you reason. “He should have left the door unlocked for us, though.”
The two of you get out and take your bags, climbing the steps to the front door. Max hefts his bags onto the porch and tries the handle, his eyes widening when it jiggles and doesn’t move.
“Uh, Y/N?” He stares at you. “You did tell him we were coming, right?”
You feel bile rise in your throat. “… I called him, yeah.”
Max glares at you, his teeth clenched. “And talked to him?”
You wince. “I left a message!”
“Dammit, Y/N!” Max bellows, slamming his fist against the door in anger. “Are you fucking kidding me?”
“I thought he would have heard it and, I dunno— left the door open for us!” you cry. You knew it was wishful thinking.
Your boyfriend just stares at his feet, eyes dark. You swallow, the guilt of the ruined night beginning to weigh on your shoulders. All of this was your fault…
“Max,” you say softly. He doesn’t answer. You continue, “I’m sorry, Max! I didn’t know– I didn’t mean for any of this to happen.” You duck your head and sigh harshly, and the truth behind your desire to spend an extra night here comes out: “I was hoping me and you could– fix things tonight. If we had that time together, y’know?” Tears choke you, and you expect Max to hurriedly assure you that nothing is wrong with your relationship, pull you into his arms and comfort you.
But he just stares at you, his eyes exhausted and hurt. “I know,” he whispers. “But I don’t think things–”
“Wait,” you suddenly say, racked with tremors of fear as you hear a distant scream.
Max blinks confusedly. “What?”
You turn around and peer into the darkness of the woods. “Shh. I heard something.”
“Like.. what kind of something?” Max asks, suddenly pale.
Another sound– a cut off screech, followed by loud banging of flesh against metal.
“Someone’s out here.” You step over the bags and start for the steps, heart racing.
“Y/N,” Max sighs. “Please–”
“No, I’m serious,” you say desperately. Your hair stands on end at the sound of a guttural howl, and more crashing.
“Shit,” Max mutters behind you, following slowly. “I heard it that time,” he confesses.
You follow the sound toward the workshed out behind the cabin, and find a door to a basement among the trees, the building tilting perilously but not falling.
You kick at the lock on the door and sigh through your nose.
“Should we go in?” you whisper to your boyfriend.
Max grimaces. “That’s… what you were planning, right? I can’t stop you, pretty sure–”
“You’re right,” you tease, but it comes out weak and nauseated. “Seriously though, I think someone’s down there, we should help them.”
“Or, it’s a rabid dog,” Max says with an unconvincing shrug. “Or… a werewolf. Or a fucking hobo, Y/N– we’re not going down there.”
“Come on,” you hiss. “What if that was you down there?”
“Why in the hell would I be trapped in a summer camp cellar?” he counters.
You frown, and he yields. “Fine. Is it locked?”
“Yeah.” You kick it again.
Max searches around behind him and picks up a hammer. He shrugs. “It’ll be loud, but…”
“If somebody needs help, we need all the noise we can get,” you tell him, taking it. “Especially if my phone is out for the long haul.”
Max nods in agreement. “Guess you’re right.”
“Of course I am,” you say, pretending to be smug while you rear back and swing the heavy tool. The metal connects with a loud clang against the lock, and three tries later, it falls away to the dirt.
You drop the hammer and lean down to yank the doors open wide. Max peers inside over your shoulder, swallowing. “We can still go back right now,” he tries.
You glare at him and he snaps his mouth shut again. “Come on,” you huff. “Got your phone?”
He grimaces. “Car,” he says. You sigh.
“Right,” you drone, fishing your own dying phone from your pocket and turning on the flashlight to illuminate the steep steps leading into the abyss. You start down the first few steps, unsurprised that your boyfriend hesitates before following. Your throat is dry and voice shaky as you call, “Hello? Anybody down here?”
You can hear Max hiss a nervous inhale behind you and continue on.
His breath is warm on the back of your neck by the time you reach the bottom, feet landing on the damp pavement floor as you glance around. “You’ve seen The Evil Dead, right?” Max whispers over your shoulder.
You scoff bitterly, “I can still ditch you, you know.”
“Babe, it was your idea to come down here, I have no obligations to—” Max’s teasing falls flat as his voice disappears and he stares into the dark corners before you. He squeaks, “Did you hear that?”
Scuffling, somewhere behind one of the several shelves in the storage space. You call out again. “Are you hurt?”
Your boyfriend deftly follows up with, “Do you exist?”
You shoot him a furious look as he shrugs.
You continue on, eventually bumping something with your foot. You bend to retrieve it and frown down at the object: a collar, seemingly far too large for a dog… almost like it belonged to a human— The thought makes you shiver and you twist it to read the name ‘Ian’ in large letters on the side. Realizing the collar itself is covered in blood, you feel your stomach turn and look to see the floor and wall nearby also drenched in the crimson liquid. And by the looks of it, it’s fresh.
You drop the collar suddenly as Max calls from afar, “BABE, LOOK AT THIS!”
“What?” you gasp, horrified, spinning around.
He grins dumbly. “A chainsaw,” he points at the wall proudly. “I told you Ash Williams has been here.”
“You dumbass,” you groan, shaking your head as your pounding heart slows.
He chuckles. “Just trying to lighten the mood,” he mutters. You start heading toward a dim corner of the room to investigate and he calls, “Hey, be careful, please.”
You hum, peering curiously at the trail of blood leading from where you’d found the collar.
Somehow, you didn’t expect to find anything— but suddenly you discover the last thing you ever hoped to see down here. Especially now.
Bile rises in your throat as you stare down at the mangled rib cage, still with bits of flesh clinging to the snow white bones, of something.
You pray it’s not human, but at this point, you’re ready to flee. “Max?” you cry, voice wavering as you back up rapidly. “Max, there’s something down here, we need to get out,” you yell, unable to turn away from the horrifying sight before you.
He sighs audibly from across the cellar. “Babe, can we just— call if a night? We’ll head to the motel, come back here first thing in the morning— check everything out.” He sounds like he’s trying desperately to reason with you. Max continues, “You’re exhausted, aren’t you? I know I am.”
“But there’s something—!”
You can hear the gentle smile in his voice as he comfortingly starts, “I think our imagination is just—”
A horrible snarl fills the air, then the ripping of flesh and Max’s screams begin echoing in your head and against the concrete walls around you. “MAX!” you scream, knees buckling before you bolt around the corner and rush to his side. It’s all happened in a matter of seconds and he’s alone again— no sign of whatever attacked.
He’s sprawled on the floor near the steps, his eyes wide and glazed over, his chest covered in blood. You collapse next to him and cup his face worriedly, blood leaking from multiple claw wounds onto your clean hands.
Max gargles, his words not making sense as he clutches his torn shoulder, head killing forward.
“Max,” you sob, terrified and confused. “What— what just happened?”
He finally garbles, “I think I’m bleeding a lot.”
He starts to tip, and you grab him quickly, forcing yourself to wait to cry until later. You shift, maneuvering to slide your arms beneath his and haul him up the stairs behind both of you as a growling sound emanates from the cellar.
He tries to help you, pushing his feet weakly against each step as you scrabble to pull him to safety. His body gushes blood with every movement and you pant as you drag him inch by agonizing inch until you reach the top.
“Stay with me, Max,” you plead. “We’re almost—” You don’t get to finish that promise because suddenly the same something that tore him to pieces in the first place is back on him, grabbing his leg and dragging him violently all the way back down the steps as you flail to hold on. Your arm twists painfully as your boyfriend is wrested from your grasp and devoured before your eyes at the bottom of the steps. A wretched cry escapes you, “Nooo!” you wail, heart shattering at the horrible sounds of teeth tearing into Max’s flesh.
Without anytime at all to mourn the loss of your best friend, you feel a sharp prick of pain at the side of your neck, and you smack at it instinctively, assuming you’ve been bitten by a mosquito.
A strong hand catches your wrist and you crane your neck to stare up in horror at your attacker. A gasp falls from your lips as warmth leaks into your blood from the needle, eyes blurring. “You,” you mutter, half asleep already as the sheriff from before just glowers at you.
He shoves you hard backward and the world falls away before you even hit the ground.
…