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There was a time when the fog reached out and the Entity sent out a summons that Frank Morrison felt every nerve in his body come to life in hungry anticipation. But just like everything else in his life, the same old song and dance eventually drove him back to apathy. He itched for a shake up. He needed something that would get his attention and hold it. Checking the keychains latched about his belt loops, he smiled. Perhaps this would help. He was bringing presents to the trial today. With a quick adjustment to his mask he allowed the fog to pull him under its dark lull.

Arriving in a different realm was something Frank would never get used to as he patted away the molten embers of the Entity's essence. Being undone and put back together again in a blink of an eye was a mindfuck. As he blinked the dark haze from his vision and looked around. There was a building in the near distance standing out in the gloom. Ironworks. He hadn’t stepped on to these grounds for a while now but he wasn’t going to complain. It was a nice change of scenery from Mount Ormond, that was for certain. Now all he needed to do was find someone. The explosion of a generator off to his left couldn’t have come any sooner. Rolling his shoulders, Frank let out a deep exhale.

“Fucking up already?” he sighed and began forward with little urgency. He had to get the blood flowing first.

The second explosion went off immediately after and just like that Frank took off. Whoever had been there had enough sense to finally cut their losses by the time Frank arrived to see only the first piston had churned to life. He looked around before he kicked the generator undoing all the progress. When the sparks flew he couldn't help but stare. Maybe if he reached out and let the sparks fall on to his skin the burns would jostle something in him. Give him a much needed boost or at least make him feel something. His fingers were just about to make contact when he heard the scrape of fabric along brick. He jerked his head up and stared at the broken down wall in front of him like he could see through it. At this rate he should with as many times he had encountered this play.

Someone’s feeling ballsy.

Turning away he started a slow jog only to immediately doubleback along the outer wall. He wasn't sure if the yelp of surprise was from his appearance or the gen’s explosive pop. All Frank knew was this pencil pusher just signed his death warrant. He missed when he lunged but at least he had a chase to preoccupy him and they were only two minutes in. With a swift kick to the generator he spun and followed.

Take it slow. Drag it out. He told himself. You end this too soon and it’s right back to sitting around without shit to do.

All of a sudden there was a flood of light spilling over the grounds somewhere to the right of him.

Oh these fuckers were playing this were they?

He was only a few feet behind the bispeckled man when he caught sight of someone in a pair of red pants running from the newly powered generator. Running around shirtless around a guy with a knife was just asking for a good stab and Frank had a good stab in him. Hell, he had more than just one as he felt a fire light up in the pit of his stomach. It burned deep and spread through his limbs to heat his blood as he veered off course picking up speed. He was on the larger man without a moment’s notice and struck. Instinctively he tightened his grip along the handle and pulled back as the man cried out and surged forward. The blood that had splashed over his hand had only served to fuel his movements. He needed this feeling to last. Glasses boy wouldn’t have gotten too far and so he cut across the treeline. It took only a second to spot the dirty white shirt sticking out behind one of the trees and another two before his blade cut in deep.

Now, Frank was having fun. With a look ahead he figured he could cut him off unless he tried to mind game. If he did mind game then his death would be even sweeter the minute he caught him because make no mistake about it when Frank Morrison wanted something he got it.

He dashed to the left with the intention of landing another blow only to be knocked off his feet as something slammed into his chest. His footing lost, he stumbled back and hit the ground hard. Someone fell on top of him just as he had slid his mask off to suck in much needed air.

Fuck.

“A-are you okay? I didn’t see you coming around the corner,” warm breath ghosted against his collarbone while hands slid over his chest and down his leather jacket. Before Frank could tighten his hold on them they crawled off him allowing him to sit up. In front of him sat a familiar dark skinned girl patting along the ground carefully.

What the hell was she doing? And why was she not bolting for it?

"You’re not hurt are you?" she spoke again keeping her voice down. She looked in his direction squinting. "Are you new here?"

She thought he was another survivor. Frank could have laughed but instead he cast a look from his leather jacket then back to her. And where the hell was his knife?

"What are you looking for?" he asked instead to get a furtive glance.

"My glasses. I can't really see without them and it's dark."

Maybe it was his dark sense of humor or something else but Frank turned his gaze to the area around them. It took a minute but he had caught sight of a pair of blue frames laying in the grass. Silently he got up and retrieved them only to stop as something tickled along his ears and whispered to him.

Kill her. She's right there.

He turned to find the girl with her back still towards him. She had crawled towards the crate still oblivious of him as he advanced on her. If she stood right now he’d be breathing down her neck.

"Found'm".

He waved the frames in front of him as a head turned and tipped back him. A smile broke out on the girl's face.

"Really? You're a lifesaver"

There was way too much excitement in that voice. She had an accent he realized, just barely but it was there. There was something familiar about her intonations. He had heard it before but it was the way she smiled that gave Frank pause. No one smiled at him like that. Not even when he tried to keep his nose clean. Especially not a girl like her. If they had gone to school together he doubted she’d even look at him. No, a girl that probably hid behind books. Avoided crowded hallways and any form of social activity. Avoided guys like him but right now she was gathering her dropped medkit and dusting off her skirt and jacket with that smile still on her face. Directed at him.

"Here," he wiped the blood off the frames on to his jeans before he pushed the glasses into her hands.

"Thank you."

She squeezed his fingers lightly sending a shock down his back just before she let go. As she shuffled her medkit under her arm to get her glasses back in place Frank racked his brain for a name. A name for a face.

“We should go find Dwight and David, I think I heard them,” she said rubbing at the lens of her glasses.

“Dwight and David,” Frank echoed and frowned.

Wrong names. He needed a name for her face.

“Yeah there is always four of us. You make four of course.”

“Ah.”

“By the way I’m Clau-”

"Claudette!"

On instinct Frank pulled his mask back on just in time to see the same shirtless ass from earlier come barreling around the other side of the wall. He paused the minute he saw Frank then grabbed a hold of the girl just as she had pushed her glasses up her nose.

Who was this, Dwight or David?

"You off your bloody tits love? Fuck are you doin’ with this psycho?" he seemed more panicked than the girl did when she looked at Frank.

He had expected fear but instead it was confusion. And then she was letting the Brit drag her off. There was a moment where Frank stared after them as the sudden feeling of loss washed over him. His nails dug into the palm of his hands the same way he used to do as a kid. Pain was always welcomed over sadness. He had no reason to be sad, if anything he should be annoyed. He had a perfectly good kill in front of him and he blew it for what? He inhaled sharply.

Get your shit together Morrison.

His hunting knife had been right where Claudette had been standing when he finally looked down. The guttural whisper tickled his ears as he retrieved his knife and tested its weight.

Claudette. That’s what her name was.

The loud revving and pinging of a fully functioning generator kicked him out of his thoughts. Shit. Two down and no hooks. He had to change that.
He tracked them down on the other side of the grounds. All of them together beside a generator like he wouldn't get tipped off but Frank didn't charge right away. It was moments like this that he wished he had stealth on his side. Sure he could duck but he wasn't like any of those latex masked fuckers. He couldn't just stalk them unnoticed but he could hang back and just watch as the men abandoned the generator to crouch around Claudette unpacking her medkit. They circled looking about their surroundings with fist clenched. They looked like a bunch of mangy dogs trying to protect a defenseless kitten.

The thought brought a smile to Frank’s lips as two of them had deemed it safe and returned back to the generator before he zeroed in on Claudette tending to the shirtless survivor from before. That one had to be David, he decided. He seemed familiar with the girl. Not in the way that he expected survivors to be but something more that caused a hot flash of anger to well up inside his chest. His fingers dug along the grip of his knife as he straightened up hearing the third piston beginning to pump steadily. They were about to finish that generator. He ran.

Jeff spotted him first and jumped off the generator kicking its progression back and ran to the left. Dwight took the right just as a newly healed David had done. That left Claudette who scrambled to gather the materials of her open kit. Frank drew to a stop right before he reached her with his arm pulled back but he didn't bring it down. He could have but didn't. Something stopped him as he stared down at the frozen girl in front of him. He cocked his head and she took a step back, looked from his knife and then to him. There was that confused look again when there should have been fear. It made him wonder what other looks he could get from her.

Curiosity made him step closer until he was only a hands width apart. Her look of uncertainty quickly gave way to fear. Honestly, Frank couldn’t stop himself from leaning in to peer into her face. Now that was a good look on her.

"You better run kitten," he purred.

Boy, he wished he had Ghostface's camera to capture the sheer embarrassment that passed over the girl's dark features. It was cute. She was cute.

When she took off passed him he laughed, counted to three, kicked the gen and gave chase. She might not have had the speed of the red head or seemed inclined to try to loop him like that chick with the partially shaved head but Frank had to give it to Claudette. She was making this fun for him. His blood was even heating up again but something told him to wait so at the last minute he changed direction. He caught Dwight on the other side of Ironworks and dug his blade into his back. Jeff ran directly into him so Frank took advantage to keep his adrenaline pumping before spinning back after Dwight.

Glasses boy had decided to try to loop him around the discarded wooden cable spools but in his panic or perhaps just utter idiocy threw a palette down. With ease Frank slid over the wooden planks, ducked passed Dwight, turned and downed him at the exact minute he felt the rush leave him.

“You know you almost had me there,” Frank crouched in front of the other who looked at him with something akin to mortification that made him laugh. He reached out and patted a ruddy cheek harshly.

“Aw don’t look at me like that. It was your buddy who fucked you over but I’ll tell ya what…” he paused to dig a finger into a curved laceration that split the shoulder seam of the button up and stained the entire sleeve red. “I’ll get him for ya but only after I’m done with you.” Frank promised and dragged a bloody finger down the middle of the pale faced man’s forehead. He stared at the mark momentarily before letting out a dramatic sigh and hoisted the man up.

Like most, Dwight put up a fight, wriggling and kicking like a spoiled brat hoping to loosen the grip on him but it only made Frank hold tighter. He had plans and it started with this first hook.

The minute iron pierced muscle and flesh he was off. He caught David trying to commit to a gen that Jeff had blown and ran from at the same time another genny roared to life. Three gens, two hooks and Frank’s kitten was nowhere in sight. For the life of him he didn’t know why he felt so irritated about it. In fact it was souring his mood so much that he nearly missed her slipping around a pile of logs. It was the ethereal pressure of the Entity in his ears that caught his attention and made him look back. Frank’s mood had done a 180 almost immediately as he slunk after her. He had tried to keep his steps silent the way the Ghostface had attempted to show him but he was never one for patience. Knowing him he had already been heard but when he looked around the stacked logs and found Claudette still there looking the opposite way he decided that perhaps he did learn something.

“Here kitty, kitty,” Frank cooed rounding the stack with his knife drawn behind his back.

Claudette hadn’t even given him a single glance before she ran. He had expected her to head straight for the foundry so when she booked it for the trees and through a maze wall Frank was surprised. But he should have seen it coming. Now that he was on her she was going to do her best to shake him.

Good luck with that baby doll, you got ol’ Franky's attention.

He had nearly caught her at the shack but hung back to give her breathing room and to throw a palette when she looped him through a t-wall. Frank never let her out of his sight for more than a second though. As bad as he wanted to he had refrained from letting instinct take over, it wouldn’t do to end this yet but it didn’t mean he couldn’t tease the girl. Just a little touch to let her know who was in control and that he could catch her at anytime. Yeah, that would be okay. Besides, she was the one who touched him first so with his mind made up Frank picked up his pace putting him at grabbing distance. His fingers latched around her bicep and his knife slashed, cutting into her jacket. The momentum forced Claudette to spin around towards him as she let out a cry and pushed him away, both her hands shoving at his chest. Call it surprise on his part at the contact but Frank backpedaled which had allowed the girl enough time to deviate in her path and lose him.

Shit. Where the hell did she go?

With a quick once over of the land he decided Ironworks was his best shot at catching her. He slowed in the wide entrance way of the building and strained his hearing hoping he’d pick up on any muffled noises of pain.

“Come out, come out wherever you are,” he called to no reply as he stepped further inside. “I know you’re in here kitten. I saw blood.”

It wasn’t a lie. Frank had noted a few drops spattered randomly along the concrete floor but it was so sporadic that he wasn’t sure which direction to head. A particular trail had led him towards the lockers. She couldn’t be that stupid. She had been playing it relatively smart this entire trial and with Frank being on her ass the way he was he was hard pressed to believe she had jumped into one of the metal containers without it being obvious.

“Kitty?” Frank crept forward. He knocked on the side of the first one and listened to the hollow echo. He had given the second one the same treatment before drawing up to the third.

“Here kitty, kitty. Come out and play.”

Frank could have laughed at his warped sense of humor. He did when his knuckles rapped along the rusted metal of the locker and he heard a thump. Excited he threw the doors open only to stop. Oh if the disappointment he felt could be translated on his mask.

“Well shit, you’re the wrong pussy,” he deadpanned as he stared at Dwight cowering against the back wall. He was shoddily patched up but that would be the least of his worries when Frank grabbed him by the collar and yanked him out.

“W-wait! Please let me go” Dwight stuttered as he tripped over his own feet. He nearly brought Frank down with him but he was the only one who crashed on to his knees. Frank let go.

“Now why would I do that?” he asked glancing around.

Sure, he had no intentions of letting the pencil pusher go but he didn’t know that.

“B-b-because you’re...nice?” Dwight smiled with uncertainty. Whether it was at his own words or he wasn’t sure if a smile would help him out Frank didn’t care. Glasses boy had guaranteed himself an early death the minute he tried to play him at the generator.

Frank frowned and leaned down into the man’s face.

“I don’t care about being nice,” he tapped his knife on the bridge of black frames. “And I certainly don’t care about you.”

Dwight's eyes darted around for a minute as if looking for something. Or someone. And just before Frank could look up towards the overhanging walkway he felt hands wrap around his knee.

“I can take you with me!”

Frank jerked his head back around towards the survivor.

“What?”

“Y-yeah, when we find a way out of this place, because you know we will. I c-can get you out too as a thank you if you let me go.”

Somehow Dwight had looked less sickly at that moment and more youthful. Full of hope. Frank could barely remember what hope was. He could however remember how easy it was to become annoyed.

“You really think there's a way out?"

A head nodded at him enthusiastically that he felt himself smile.

"Wow, for someone with glasses you really are fucking stupid,” he snorted.

Dwight looked offended as his brows furrowed and he released Frank’s leg.

“Gla-glasses don’t translate t-to the size of a person’s intelligence.”

The urge to roll his eyes hit Frank almost immediately but he curbed the want in favor of something else.

“You know what I changed my mind about letting you go. In fact I got something for ya,” he announced brightly and watched Dwight’s face morph into one of relief.
"You are? Oh thank God."

"Yeah, consider me your own personal Jesus. Reach out and touch faith and all that good shit," Frank muttered and unclasped one of the keychains from his belt and tossed it to Dwight.

Confused, the man caught it and looked it over. His fingers shakily traced over the ivory mold of a skull and a man's screaming face merged as one. There was something satisfying about the way one could see a person's hopes and dreams get face fucked right in front of them. Dwight obviously didn’t feel the same as tears sprang into his eyes as the token crumbled into dust and golden embers. By the time he turned to scramble on to his feet to flee, Frank had already raised his knife.

Admittedly he had gotten a little carried away in killing Dwight. There were a few more deep wounds than normal but Frank couldn't feel guilty about it. Killing was always cathartic for him but for some strange reason he didn't feel as satisfied. With an annoyed huff Frank got to his feet and left the foundry. As much as he’s lied throughout his life he had always been truthful when it came to violence. He had told Dwight that he’d get Jeff for him and he meant it.

“Jesus you're heavy,” he huffed as hefted Jeff up on to the hook who bellowed out in pain. It was enough to make Frank wince as he stepped back and stared up at the man. It never fell short of amazing how old the man had gotten while Frank hadn’t aged a day. He could barely remember what Jeff looked like when he was younger but he knew one thing for sure. For such a quiet guy Jeff was loud as hell even as he dangled there grunting like a stuck pig. He would have mocked the man too had it not been for the sound of crunching of dirt and rocks. Turning, Frank caught David trying to duck out of sight.

Oh no you don’t.

Frank wasn’t about to allow a quick save. Jeff had tried to make him look stupid with an earlier juke so he could just hang out for a minute. Whether someone eventually got him down or he was sacrificed didn’t matter.

David must have realized that a rescue was currently out of the question, turned tail and ran. If Claudette was around, which Frank hadn’t felt, she’d have to be the one to come to Jeff’s aid as Frank brandished his knife and went after David.

It wasn’t until he had lost the Brit did Frank realize he had been taken across the grounds of Ironworks. The damn cool down of his frenzy had cost him a hit. Sure the spurt of energy was nice but it was a bitch when it left him right before a palette was thrown down blocking his pursuit.

Luckily, there were only so many places the fighter could have gone and if Frank had to guess he would say one of the lockers in the small brick space he circled. He threw open the doors of the first locker only to be caught off guard with David bursting out of the second one. The stun was text-book survivor stuff but the right fist connecting to his mask sure the hell wasn’t.

“Bloody cock sucker not so tough now are ya mate,” David spat as he danced around the blade swung at him.

Frank barely had time to react before the Brit had punched him again, caught him in the ribs with a knee and swung him directly into the brick wall. Pain bloomed from his face down to his toes as he stumbled and fell to a knee. Something hot and coppery was running down his face, he could taste it on his tongue. Blood. Frank’s shoulders shook as he laughed and pushed his mask up high enough to let his fingers dance along his lips and nose. They came away red and sticky. David was going to die when he found him.

With the way his head throbbed and his ribs railed at his movements, Frank had gone for a slow pursuit. He hadn’t heard any other generators popped and based on David’s original intentions, the man was probably on his way to rescue Jeff from being sacrificed. That gave Frank some time to recoup.

The rumbling of a generator left abandoned in the foundry attracted his attention before he looked to where he had killed Dwight only to find his body not where he left it. Instead there was a large trail of blood leading away from the pool of blood to the other side of one of the lockers.

No way he lived through that.

Curious, Frank followed the path only to stop as he spotted dirty dress shoes. He trailed his gaze up soiled trousers and passed a once white button-up, now crimson, to settle on a pale face. It was the only part of Dwight that Frank hadn’t cut up. His glasses had been straightened however, his hair too. Almost as if someone had tried to make him look presentable.

He could have just left to exact his revenge on David but something told Frank to stay and so he did. He moved carefully around one of the vats and stopped. Claudette was leaning against the metal side. Frank narrowed his eyes at her.

Why the hell was she just standing there?

“There you are,” he spoke, voice a bit rough from the pain.

Claudette didn’t seem to hear him.

Closing the distance, Frank stood in front of her. Her white blouse was covered in blood and there were smudges of it along her right cheek. She must have been the one to move Dwight. Her bloody hands confirmed that, they looked as bad as his own. Frank drew his gaze back to her face. Her eyes weren’t focused on him at all. In fact they bore right through him hauntingly. It was like gazing into a void. It was a look he knew all too well. A look he avoided facing when he stared at his own reflection.

“I wanted him to be comfortable,” Claudette finally spoke though it seemed more to herself than to him. “Dwight always said that getting sacrificed was always hard but dying at a killer’s hand scared him more than anything no matter how many times it happened.” The shaky breath she took made Frank think she would cry but she didn’t even as she closed her eyes. “I hate this place so much. I hate that we’re never getting out of here.”

“Your buddy over there thought differently. Even offered to get me out of here if I let him go but we both know how that worked out." It was a callous thing to say but Frank's conscience made few appearances these days.

Claudette opened her eyes and looked at him then as if just realizing who he was. Her brow furrowed.

“How can you not care? It’s like you get enjoyment out of killing us,” the accusatory tone didn’t sit well with Frank. He didn’t care for people judging him.
“Did it ever cross your mind kitten that maybe I do?”

His response was clearly unexpected by the widening of dark eyes.

“Why?”

Frank shrugged, ignoring the pain in his head.

“You know how it goes, troubled childhood, no one wants to give you a chance so you do the next best thing. Say fuck’em and be a rebel without a cause and all that good shit.”
“You mean you decided it was easier to be a monster.”

The words had barely left Claudette’s mouth before Frank grabbed her without warning by the lapels of her jacket and slammed her backwards into rusted metal. In that moment he didn’t care about the cry of pain that escaped her or the way she winced as he tightened his grip.

“Don’t act like you’re fucking better than me,” he hissed and brought his knife up to her cheek. “You may have had a little cozy family life and had everyone accept you back in the real world but here the roles are reversed. I’m the someone and you’re the no-one.”

As pissed as he was he hated that he never had the best check on his temper. He hated that she set him off without intending to but most of all he hated the way she tried to recoil from his touch.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to insult you,” Claudette’s voice was barely above a whisper. “I’ve never been good at talking to people. I guess that’s why…” she trailed off and lowered her gaze.

“That’s why what?” Frank pressed still angry but he was also curious.

Claudette made a noise then, something like a hiccup and strangled sob as she shook her head.

“That’s why, what?” he tried again less angry but once more a head was shaken at him. Leaning in, Frank settled the flat of the blade along her chin. “I’m not going to ask you again and eyes up here kitten,” he tapped the underside of her jaw lightly making the girl flinch.

It was a few seconds later but she finally looked up though she barely managed eye contact. She had tears in her eyes.

“It’s stupid” she said. “But I was never accepted. I was always alone.” She glanced off momentarily with a sniff. “It was humiliating...it still is.”

Silence fell between them as Frank stared at her. Admittedly he had been surprised by her confession. Sure she might not have been the most popular girl but he had expected her to at least have a small circle of friends, after all he had one and he was the biggest degenerate in all of Ormond and Calgary combined.

“Yeah well fuck'm. They were probably a bunch of punk asses anyways,” he muttered. For as much of an ass as he was growing up he never targeted kids like Claudette. They were miserable as it was, they didn’t need anyone to make it worse.

“No, I think it was just me,” Claudette replied.

“Well if we ever get out of this shit hole we can hang so I can prove you wrong,” Frank didn’t know why he said it but he liked the idea even if he knew there was a slim chance of it happening.

Tears welled up in the girl’s eyes as she looked up at him. Shit, Frank thought. He hated when people cried. Susie drove him crazy with her tears if only because he was ill equipped to deal with it. Joey, on the other hand still had a soft side despite the things they did. He always knew exactly what to do.

Trying to remember the few times he had stuck around, Frank pushed his mask up just enough that he could hold his knife between his teeth. He carefully moved Claudette's glasses up to rest at the top of her head and let his thumbs rub over the corner of her eyes and down her cheeks. Strangely enough she had allowed his clumsy version of comfort. Seemed to crave it. Maybe that was the reason Frank had pulled her against him to lock a hand in her hair as his other pressed between her shoulder blades.

Claudette sobbed then as she pressed her face against his chest and wrapped her arms around his waist.

Frank should have already sunk his knife into her. He knew that but it only made him tighten his grip as he settled his chin atop of the girl’s head. When was the last time he held someone and they held him back?

It seemed like an eternity had passed with them just standing there before Claudette sniffed and made a sound akin to a broken laugh.

“This shouldn’t feel nice,” her voice was muffled against his chest before she tilted her head to look up at him with embarrassment. The expression was soon changed to one of surprise as she reached out and touched his chin.

"You're bleeding.”

Retracting his hands, Frank removed his knife from between his teeth and spit off to the side.

"No thanks to that boyfriend of yours. Fucker hit me good."

"Boyfriend?"

"Yeah, the shirtless guy."

There was a moment of shock that flashed over dark features before eyes moved from his face.

"David isn't... I've never had one," Claudette mumbled as she untied the bow around her neck. She seemed to be working on instinct so when she gently wiped the fabric along Frank's lips he let her. He wished his vision wasn't partially distorted as he watched her.

Her face was contorted in concern. Concern for him. And Frank liked it. He liked how her free hand palmed his cheek allowing him to soak up her warmth as he leaned into it. When her thumb brushed the scar over his lips he inhaled deeply. The urge to bite was overwhelming but Claudette withdrew her hand before he could act on it.
"Sorry, I didn't mean to hurt you" she apologized and Frank laughed.

"Baby doll if that's what you consider hurting you can hurt me any day," he offered. He stepped forward then and pressed his body against hers as he settled his hands on either side of her head. "Though I wouldn't mind if some pain was involved."

The ping of a generator sounded from the distance caught his attention. He looked over his shoulder. There were only so many places left to get a generator done. And all of them were in close range to the foundry.

He remained where he was though. There was something nice about the way Claudette seemed to fit perfectly against his taller frame. And there was the fact she wasn't repulsed by him. Maybe if he had this back in Ormond things wouldn’t had gotten so fucked. Maybe he would have been calmer, less inclined towards violence. He sure as hell wouldn't have killed anyone that was for sure. Wishful thinking never did shit for Frank but he couldn’t help but get mad at what could have been.

Sliding his mask back down with one hand he brought his knife back up to trail it along Claudette’s throat.

“Not your boyfriend right?” he asked.

Claudette barely shook her head but Frank had his confirmation before he pulled the now stained scarf from her hands and shoved it into his back pocket.

“Now I’m only going to tell you this once,” he began situating Claudette’s glasses back on to her face. “You wiggle, scream or hit me and I’ll put this knife through your skull. Got it?”

“Got it,” Claudette repeated.

“Good girl.”

Frank ducked down, wrapped an arm securely around the back of Claudette’s knees and hefted her over his shoulder. She had let out a small yelp but that was expected before he headed outside of the foundry and towards the hill. Or at least he would have had Jeff not come from out of nowhere and blinded him with a flashlight. One would think with the limited vision of a mask that Frank would be immune but if anything it seemed to make it worse. A sharp pain bloomed behind his eyes and he dropped Claudette in favor of shielding his eyes.

When his vision had decided to finally right itself he found Jeff pulling Claudette up to her feet. The sirens of the exit gates blared across the grounds then and Frank straightened up. If the Entity had been loud in his head before it was near deafening as he ran straight for the pair.

“Run!” Jeff shoved Claudette, sending her stumbling right passed Frank who couldn't have been happier.

How cute, he thought he was going to get a body block.

It wasn’t until the minute Frank’s knife buried itself into his shoulder and he hit the ground that Jeff realized what had happened. Jeff’s face paled as Frank stared down at him.
“That’s right, no one escapes death motherfucker,” he laughed as he unhooked another keychain. He dangled it briefly above the man’s face before it crumbled into nothing.
The third light of the door buzzed loudly by the time the exit gate came into view and Frank saw Claudette grab David’s hand as the metal door began to slide open. She noticed him a second later followed by the Brit who scowled.

“What? Come back for another beatin’ av’ ya?” David turned instead of following Claudette who had ran back to grab him and drag him further inside.

“David what are you doing, he has NOED,” she latched around his arm but the man had brushed her hand away as Frank came to a stop just at the open gate.

“And I have my fists,” David insisted as he widened his stance and squared his shoulders. “Now step back and let me take care of this, yeah?”

“David don’t” Claudette pleaded but her eyes were on Frank.

“We’ll go after I beat his face in again. Promise.”

This fucker was way too cocky than he had any right to be especially right now. Frank was going to fix that.

He charged forward, ducked David’s right hook and drove his hunting knife through the man’s chest. The look of shock on the Brit’s face as he sunk to his knees had been worth the wait but Frank was vindictive. With malicious intent he drove his foot into David’s chin sending the man toppling over and sputtering blood.

“Not so big now are you, you muscle headed fucker?” Frank grinned as he unhooked his third keychain and crushed it in his fist.

David, to his credit, had tried to push himself up despite bleeding out but it didn’t matter when a blade was sinking into his forearm. If Frank had been enthusiastic about killing Dwight he was absolutely devoted when it came to David.

Overkill was a good way to describe what Frank had done as he sat on his knees and panted. His hands looked like he had dunked them in buckets of red paint. The leather of his jacket was now slick while the grey hoodie underneath was going to stain an ugly brown. David looked worse though, like a pound of bloody meat with fifty large gaping holes in it.

It was only when he looked up that Frank had remembered Claudette. She was still standing there, just watching him even as David’s blood pooled out towards her boots.
Leaving his knife in David’s chest, Frank got up fully expecting Claudette to bolt but she stayed still even as he reached for her. With a bloody finger he drew a smile over her lips, pushed his mask up passed his mouth and grinned.

“Smile kitten,” he said and pushed her backwards into the fog.