Chapter Text
You find yourself in a formless forest that seems to stretch on forever as you navigate the tangled trees. The branches loom dangerously, threatening to slash at you with every step. Your mind feels as if it's wrapped in cotton, light and muffled, while your chest is weighed down by a hot, heavy sensation. As you move, all you hear are indistinct whispers—unintelligible and inconsequential.
You wonder where you're headed, but it hardly seems to matter. It feels as though your body isn't obeying your commands anyway; you're just a puppet being dragged along by unseen strings. but if you’re the puppet, who is pulling the strings?
As you traverse this surreal landscape, you watch the world around you start to shift and warp. The trees stretch upward, transforming into towering bookshelves, and the mud beneath your feet solidifies into wooden flooring. Before long, the forest morphs into a grand library. It feels strangely familiar, yet you’re certain you’ve never seen it before.
As you navigate the towering bookshelves, you gradually make your way to the center of the space—a large, open area. It resembles a cozy reading nook, complete with a fireplace that casts a warm, inviting glow. Though the atmosphere is oddly peaceful, you can't shake the sense that something is amiss.
As you step into the open area, you notice someone seated in one of the armchairs, facing the fireplace and holding a glass filled with a golden liquid. As you approach, a sense of unease tightens in your stomach, but you continue to move closer. Just as you're about to take another step, the person’s voice suddenly cuts through the silence.
“I was beginning to wonder when you’d arrive,” the man said, remaining seated in his chair. You couldn’t quite grasp what he meant, but for some reason, you found yourself unable to speak. “Ah, I see she’s already taken hold of you... and quite tightly, it seems,” he continued. “We don’t have much time, so I won’t waste it—I’ll explain a few things.” He still didn’t rise from his chair, instead taking a sip from his glass.
“You may call me The Observer, for reasons that should be quite obvious. I've been watching for a long time, and I've been watching you very closely,” he said. “I must apologize, but it was I who brought you here.” A surge of anger rushed through you, though strangely, it didn’t entirely feel like your own. “As for why I did it, the reason is simple: you were the first person I found who could... intertwine with The Entity, for lack of a better term,” he continued.
What did he mean by that? What had happened to you? You wanted to scream, to shout, but the words still wouldn’t come. “Normally, I wouldn’t interfere with The Entity, but this situation affects me and everyone who resides here,” he said, taking another sip. “This Red Plague may not seem like a threat now, but soon it will be. It will slowly infect everything, eventually consuming The Entity itself—and that would not bode well for everyone,”
"But what does that have to do with you? Well, the thing is, The Entity can’t deal with it on its own. It’s as if it’s blind to this infection, unable to fight back—like when your body’s antibodies struggle against a virus. In this case, The Entity needs assistance, and unfortunately, you are that help," he concluded with a deep exhale.
"I also need to tell you that this change you’ve undergone—or are still undergoing—can’t be undone," he said, his voice heavy with sadness. Alarm shot through you, but it was quickly overshadowed by anger. How could he do this to you? How could he do this to us? "I’m truly sorry, but it has to be this way," he added. "Unfortunately, it seems our time is up for now," he said as the distant sound of bells echoed from somewhere far away.
For a fleeting moment, your body obeyed, responding to your will as you attempted to move forward, desperate to grasp this stranger. But before you could reach him, everything faded. Suddenly, you find yourself sitting up in a hospital bed, hand outstretched. You blink a few times, disoriented, before taking in your surroundings.
You find yourself in a hospital room, most likely at Léry's Memorial Institute. Beside your bed sits a chair with a very familiar face—Vittorio. Of all the people you might have expected to find by your side, Vittorio wasn’t one of them. While he’s always been protective, you didn’t anticipate him being here. You consider waking him but seeing that he looks peaceful, and you don’t want to disturb that.
You try to recall the dream you just had, but it slips away, leaving most of it forgotten. You remember encountering someone in an unfamiliar place, and though they said things you didn’t like, the specifics elude you. This leaves you oddly frustrated, as you sense the dream was significant—otherwise, why would it trouble you so much?
As you continue to survey the room, you spot a makeshift wash station. Carefully, you get out of bed and approach the mirror and wash bowl. There’s a somewhat clean washcloth and a jug of water on the stand. Before you reach for the jug, you catch sight of your reflection.
In the mirror, you see your reflection, but it doesn’t quite match what you expected. Your appearance seems different from what you remember—subtle changes, yet still noticeable.
You appear much different than you remember—your hair is longer and dishevelled, clearly in need of a brush. But the most startling thing is the small mandibles, reminiscent of The Entity, entwined in your hair. When you grasp one and pull gently, it tugs as if it’s part of you. This alarmed you—what was happening? What was this? You continued to study your reflection, searching for other changes.
You looked paler than usual, though this didn’t alarm you much. What did catch your attention was the difference in your eyes. Your left eye appeared as it always had, but the right one was bloodshot, reminiscent of the time with Herman and Evan. “What the hell,” you muttered to yourself, accidentally nicking your bottom lip with one of your sharper canines. As you noticed the change in your mouth, you realized your canines were noticeably sharper—not by much, but enough to feel the difference.
You stepped back from the mirror, alarmed by what you saw, but then a sharp, gnawing pain erupted in your stomach, causing you to double over. Clutching your abdomen in agony, you wondered what was happening. Suddenly, you vomited, and a disturbing mixture of gore spilled out before you. The sour taste of blood lingered on your tongue, intensifying your nausea.
“Holy shit, (y/n),” you heard Vittorio’s voice call out from behind you, his hands gently gripping your shoulders and back. “You’re okay, (y/n), I’ve got you,” he said soothingly as he called out for Evan, Herman, or anyone who could help. It wasn’t long before someone entered the room—The Nurse, or more formally, Sally.
“Oh my,” Sally exclaimed as she approached you. She and Vittorio helped you to your feet and guided you back to the bed, assisting you in settling down. “W-what’s wrong with me?” you asked, your voice trembling. “Don’t worry, (y/n). We’ll explain everything once I get Herman,” Sally said soothingly. “Wait here, and Vittorio, please keep an eye on (y/n),” she added before floating away.
As Sally left the room, you turned your attention to Vittorio. “I know you must be panicking right now, but you need to calm down. Everything’s okay. You’re safe,” he said, pulling you into a reassuring hug and gently stroking the back of your head. You closed your eyes, hugging him back tightly, and focused on calming your breathing.
“That’s it, take deep breaths,” he said, his calm voice helping you steady yourself. “What happened? How long was I out?” you asked as you gradually regained your composure. Vittorio sighed before gently pulling away from you. “Sorry, (y/n), I honestly wasn’t sure you’d wake up, but I’m relieved you did,” he said with a soft smile. His words left you unsettled—what did he mean by “might never wake up”?
“What do you mean? How long was I asleep?” you asked, unsure if "asleep" was even the right term. “(y/n), you know it’s hard to keep track of time here...” he started, but you cut him off. “Vittorio,” you said softly. He sighed again, this time with a hint of sadness. “Too long—long enough for a few new killers and survivors to appear,” he replied. “How many killers?” you asked.
“Five new killers, but we’ve got seven new survivors on our team,” he said, attempting to reassure you. Five killers—this meant you had been out long enough for them to arrive, which might explain the hair growth. Just then, Herman, Sally, and Evan walked into the room. “Damn, she really did wake up,” Evan remarked, stopping in the doorway with his arms crossed.
Sally and Herman approached your bedside. “How are you feeling?” Herman asked as he examined you. “Disoriented. What happened?” you inquired, both fearing and needing to hear the answer. “Well, a lot has happened,” Herman said. “Some of it’s good, and some of it’s bad,” he added, rubbing the back of his neck.
“I want to hear it,” you said, prompting a hum of acknowledgement from Herman. “Very well, (y/n). Where to start?” he trailed off before continuing. “What do you remember?” “I recall Dredge attacking us after he was infected, and then… nothing until I found myself facing Dredge again. That’s when everyone arrived, and I fell unconscious,” you explained, sharing your memories up to that point.
“Nothing else?” he asked, and you shook your head in response. He let out a sigh. “That’s unfortunate. I was hoping you’d have more to share,” Herman said, sounding a bit disappointed. “But there is some good news,” Evan chimed in, glancing your way. “I’m sure (y/n) will want to hear it.” Your ears perked up. “What is it?” you asked, eager for something positive.
“Well, after the attack, we brought you here — along with The Dredge,” Herman began. “Once we made sure you and I were taken care of, we dealt with it. We locked it up in one of the rooms, one we knew it couldn’t escape from,” he continued, a slight smile tugging at his lips. “Sally went to check on it later, but what she found was... surprising,” Herman said, his voice still carrying a hint of shock. “The Dredge was cured — no longer infected.”
The news hit you like a jolt — The Dredge was no longer infected? But how? “What? How is that possible?” you asked, stunned. “We’re not entirely sure,” Herman said. “But whatever happened between you and The Dredge… we think that’s the key.” “That’s why you need to try and remember, (Y/N),” Sally added gently.
“W-what about The Dredge? Don’t they remember anything?” you asked, your voice unsteady. Herman let out a sigh. “No… unfortunately, they don’t remember anything from their time while infected.” You sat quietly on the bed, eyes fixed on your hands as you struggled to recall something—but nothing came. “Maybe going back to the site will help jog your memory,” Vittorio suggested. “Besides, a walk might do you some good.”
“Y-yeah, you’re right. Some fresh air might help… maybe even jog my memory,” you said as you carefully swung your legs over the side of the bed. Vittorio stepped in, offering a steady hand as you stood on shaky feet. Together, you, Herman, Evan, and Vittorio left the room, while Sally stayed behind, watching you go. The halls of Léry’s Memorial Institute stretched out before you, dim and quiet.
You moved down the hallway, your footsteps quiet against the floor — until you stopped abruptly. Something drifted through the air, a sweet, unnatural scent that clung to your senses, pulling at you. “(Y/N)? Are you alright? Maybe you should sit down,” Vittorio said, his voice low and tense. You barely heard him. “Don’t you smell that?” you whispered, eyes narrowing as you slowly began to follow the invisible trail, drawn to it without even thinking.
The others exchanged uneasy glances before silently falling in behind you, keeping close as you moved deeper into the Institute. A sick feeling began to coil in your stomach, twisting tighter with every step. A strange hunger crept over you, gnawing at your insides. Your mouth watered uncontrollably, and without thinking, you ran your tongue slowly over your teeth, an unsettling instinct you couldn’t quite explain.
It felt like your body was moving on its own, guided by an invisible force — and you didn’t resist. You let it pull you forward. You came to a sudden stop, standing in the threshold of a room. Inside, strapped tightly to a bed, was Amanda — The Pig. You took a step forward, drawn in, but Vittorio quickly moved in front of you, blocking your path. He was saying something — you could see his lips moving — but you couldn’t hear a word. A deep, heavy heartbeat had risen around you, pounding louder and louder, until it drowned out everything else.
The mandibles hidden in your hair began to stir, trembling with a strange, eager anticipation, as if they already knew what was about to unfold. Their chittering filled your ears, a low, feverish hum that drowned out reason. You placed a hand on Vittorio’s arm — gentle at first — then shoved him aside with unnatural ease. He flew across the room, hitting the wall with a dull thud, while you continued forward, drawn relentlessly toward Amanda.
A hand seized your upper arm, but you didn’t so much as glance away from The Pig.
With a sudden, violent jerk, you ripped your arm back, dragging the person clinging to you effortlessly into the air. They sailed past you and crashed hard onto the floor — Evan. He barely had time to move before the ground beneath him split open with a wet, tearing sound.
Mandibles, slick and twitching, burst from the floor, wrapping around his body like hungry, living things. They pinned him down with a brutal strength, chittering against his skin as if tasting him. He screamed — or maybe he didn’t. You couldn’t tell. All you could hear was the deafening roar of your own pulse as you stepped over him, drawn closer and closer to Amanda.
Your hand gripped the side of Amanda’s bed, the metal frame cold against your fingers as the hunger pulsed through your veins, a dark, insatiable force that consumed your every thought.
You didn’t move yourself — it moved you. Your body obeyed with a terrifying, unnatural fluidity as you climbed onto the bed, settling on top of her with a weight that seemed too heavy, too wrong. But beneath her mask, her eyes — wide and frantic — stared up at you, filled with a silent scream.
You opened your mouth, but the voice that poured out was not your own. It was distant, hollow, like an echo of something buried deep inside you — a voice you’d never heard but somehow always knew existed. “Hush now, fear not. This is not the end, but the beginning of the end,” the words fell from your lips, spoken with a chilling, motherly cadence, yet there was no warmth in them — only an emptiness that swallowed everything else. You tried to pull back, to regain control, but the weight of it was too much. Your own body felt like a stranger, like a vessel that no longer belonged to you. And then, before you could even grasp the horror of it, everything faded into black.