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The Shame Game	By : Aynine Category: -Misc Video Games/RPGs > FemSlash/Yuri - Female/Female Views: 3351 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: [I do not own Dead by Daylight, or any of the characters within it. This story purely for fun, and no money is made from its creation.]

Chapter List
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The Shame Game
(A/N: This story is also on Archive of Our Own, where I much prefer the site layout.
https://archiveofourown.org/works/26759284/chapters/73638531)
Chapter 1: Mad World

            The soft splat of Meg’s shoes across muddy ground was all that she could hear while she treaded through the dreary swamp. A generator stood in the reeds, and she pushed them out of her face, brushing out her red pigtails when she breached them. As she plunged her hands into the mechanisms and started the repairs, she could hear a cry in the distance. Jake had taken a blow, and her heart sank as his pain filled her mind. She focused on the repairs, but her eyes glimpsed something to the side, barely noticeable beneath the pale moonlight: an unarmed bear trap. She inwardly groaned at having to deal with the gruesome Trapper.

            Another cry and Jake went down into the mud. He was close this time, and she was nearly complete with the repairs. She doubled down and powered through, hearing the wails of her comrade as he was attached to one of the grizzly meat hooks. The generator bellowed to life, churning its metallic parts and the pistons pumping away. She could feel the monstrous Trapper coming, his heartbeat mirroring her own.

            The imposing beast of a man, his deep brown apron, and vile, blood-soaked mask, pushed through the reeds. He bent down and snatched his trap, lingering for a few seconds. He glanced to the generator, and then moved on, the splat of his steps soon leaving earshot. Meg exhaled and crouched away. The mud coated every inch of her body and dark jacket, and she had gone so far as to smear it on her face. It helped her blend in, and any survival advantage was welcome in these dark realms. Jake was rescued by another survivor, but she could not discern which. Emerging from some reeds, she found a generator propped alongside a derelict boat, and it clanked and sputtered quietly. She discovered Claudette delicately working on the repairs on the opposite side.

            The botanist made eye contact, but said nothing. She scarcely spoke, even outside of the trials, so this was the most Meg got from her within them. Working together, the generator was brought back to life in no time, roaring to full power and the light blooming overhead. They nodded to one another and snuck on, with Meg taking the lead. Jake came charging into them, tripping, and tackling her into the mud. The sprinter groaned and he climbed back up and extended a gloved hand. Even with his grievous wound he made no sounds. Claudette produced a medkit—something she always had with her—and they patched up his injuries. The botanist was always the medic on the team, hiding away and helping those she could, preferring not to take any risks. Abruptly, Dwight surged into the group.

            “R-Run! He’s right behind me. The last one is almost done back there!” He continued on, his tie flailing in the air beside him as he disappeared into the thick fog. The party scattered, and the Trapper trudged through. Claudette sneaked into her again, and they regrouped at the generator with Jake. The nearly repaired machinery chummed just ahead, and Jake stood up, covered in grease, as it reached full power.

            “I’ll go for the nearest gate, and you two work on the furthest.” A loud chink came from the direction Dwight had run, and he howled with pain.

            Meg shivered and looked to Claudette. “You get the gate. I’ll grab Dwight.” They nodded to one another and broke away. She moved from debris, to flotsam, to reeds, keeping a low profile as the Trapper headed for the gates. Expertly traversing the terrain, Meg arrived at the hook, frowning at a trap beside it. “I’ve got you.” She reached up and took him off, bringing him down as gently as possible. He clutched his wound, wincing, and nodded. They moved together along the same path, careful to stay out of sight.

            It wasn’t long before the Trapper returned, finding his laid trap untouched. He growled and searched around, but the pair were long gone. They made it to Claudette’s gate, and together they bandaged Dwight. Without another word, they ran through, the Trapper arriving in time to watch them leave. He stood in monolithic silence as they vanished into the depths of the fog, a blood-dripping bear trap in his clutches.

            The party of survivors breached the fog and returned to the only place of solace they knew: the campfire. Others trapped in the realm greeted them with hopeful looks, and the warmth of the flames beckoned them. Meg stepped ahead of the others and took a seat on one of the logs, choosing to be beside David. He was tall man, with a short, scruffy beard smoothed tuft of brown hair. He had a rough look about him, and his thick jacket did well to conceal his bulky form.

            “You make it out again, eh, Meg?” He prodded at the fire with a stick.

            The sprinter nodded and held her hands out to it, enjoying the heat. “Yeah. The trapper hasn’t been very clever, but he got Dwight. He did the last of the work that got us out.”

            Dwight sat down and smiled. “Teamwork keeps us all alive.”

            Meg looked over her shoulder to see Claudette sitting by herself towards the edge of the fire. She held some grass in her hands and shuffled it around. Despite being of the first four people trapped in the realm, and working together with her the most, she still isolated herself. Moving up behind her, Meg decided to try conversing again. “Hey. Thanks for the help back there.”

            The botanist turned around to acknowledge her before gazing back to what she held. “It was nothing,” she muttered.

            Meg put her hands in her jacket pockets. “You should come sit with us. It’s eerie enough out here in the dark.”

            Claudette shook her head. “I’m fine. I’m just a little tired.”

            Meg shrugged and put a hand on her shoulder. “Well, you’re always welcome to sit by me,” she added, offering a smile.

            The botanist turned up to her, but her eyes darted away. “I’ve just… got a lot on my mind and want to be alone.”

            “Anything you want to talk about?” Claudette fidgeted. “You can trust me. We’re all in this together. We’ve gotta keep each others’ spirits up.”

            Once more Claudette fidgeted. “Oh, umm… No, thank you. I appreciate the offer.”

            “Well, if you change your mind you know where to find me.” After receiving another acknowledging nod, she moved back to the others.

Small ridge tents were setup along the edges of the campfire for the survivors to get some rest and solace between the grueling trials. Death was always looming, yet never permanent. Everyone had their fair share of experiencing what a slow, brutal death was like, though Meg managed to keep her survival averages on the high end. Everyone had killers they didn’t like to face, some that they weren’t adapted to. She had done well to evade most, finding herself above even the most successful of all: the Nurse.

Meg slipped into her green, triangular tent and zipped it up. What little privacy it offered was nice, and everyone tried to keep the noise level relatively low out of respect for those needing their sleep. She moved about and changed her clothes over to her darker, more athletic look. Tight and sleek leggings for freedom of movement when running, and a lightweight sleeveless top for when her blood kept her hot. She emerged and ran a hand over her unkempt braids, smoothing out the rough look of loosened strands she had gained. She sighed and returned to the campfire.

Sliding down against one of the logs, she tilted her head back to the stars. The realms were bleak, but somehow it still created a beautiful night sky. Meg yearned for someone to cuddle up to and gaze at the stars with. There wasn’t much room for romance in their circumstance, but she hoped David might be interested. He seemed to always encourage her, but the conversations never kept going. Over time, all she had managed to learn was a bit of his privileged history, and that he was always able to weather the viciousness of the killers more than others. She sighed and allowed the others’ conversations to drown out her thoughts while she awaited the next trial. I wonder who is next. Her thoughts cycled through the various killers in the dark realms. Though she’d tangled with and survived against the Nurse more than the others, her ability to suddenly appear on her, saw raised, and strike was nerve wracking, even for her. She shuddered and peered into the darkness behind her. She wondered if the killers stalked them, but some part of her felt like at least one was always out there, somewhere.

            After a while, several of the survivors turned in, and Claudette approached the campfire. She maintained her distance, taking a seat by herself on the edge of a log. Though the others attempted to bring her into the conversation, she only offered one- and two-word answers. Silence fell over them after several failed attempts to keep talking.

            From the fog emerged more of their fellow survivors. Ace, Laurie, and Bill arrived, filtering to the seats around. Though she didn’t care much for Ace’s brand of charm, and Laurie was a strong-willed girl she had learned some pointers with, Bill was ultimately the wise teacher among them that she was fond of. Despite his advanced age, he was an expert survivalist with his experience, and taught the others a lot. He took a seat by Meg, greeting her as he sat down and took a puff from his eternal cigarette.

            “Hey, kiddo. How’d it go?” he asked, blowing out smoke.

            Meg smiled. “We all got out against the Trapper. Jake and Dwight had a rough go of it, but otherwise we’re whole.”

            Bill smiled and stretched. “Glad to hear it.” They glanced up to see Nea slinking out of the fog, much behind the others. She rubbed one arm over the other and silently greeted everyone with a shaky look. She tugged her beanie lower until it sat just above her eyes.

            “Does… anyone know Russian?” she asked.

            Bill rubbed his beard and looked up. “I may know a little bit from some friends back in the army. Whaddya need?”

            The tagger chewed her lip. “What does… uh…” She mouthed some words to herself before preparing the lines. “Idi syuda, moy tsvetok. Ya tol'ko khochu sorvat' tebya.” She took a breath. “What does that mean?”

            The old soldier blinked. “Where’d you hear something like that?”

            “The huntress,” she replied. “I didn’t think she really spoke, but she’s always saying things to me. I’ll try to remember more, but it’s hard. Do you know what that is? She’s said it a lot, or something like it.”

            Bill shrugged. “Something about plucking a flower, I think.”

            Nea sighed and sat down. “Well, thanks anyway.”

            Meg yawned. “I’m gonna grab a nap before the next one.” She stood up and patted Bill on the back before slipping into her tent. It wasn’t too long before she drifted away, but it wasn’t the deep rest she hoped for. Something tugged at her mind and heart, and she returned to wakefulness with an annoyed perkiness. The Entity was pulling at her, and she needed to enter the fog once more. Stepping out of the tent, she stretched and walked away from the campfire, accepting the blessings from her comrades before disappearing into the thick, grey mist.

            Everything receded at once into another dark realm, and Meg shivered; it was very cold with snowflakes gently floating down, and the hum and broken lights ahead reminded her of where she was. Lery’s Memorial Institute was ready, with its abandonment welcoming any new guests. However, its ruination had been twisted with power restored, and flickering lights revealed it littered with trash and debris piled in the corners. The center of this madhouse was complete with malfunctioning monitors that occasionally played horrific screams, and she could swear there were frightful whispers that echoed down the empty halls.

            Swallowing, Meg darted into the building, finding the first generator just inside behind the reception desk. No one else was there, and she crouched down and got to work. It wasn’t long until she could hear the screech of the Nurse, muddled and echoing within the halls. God, not again. Why is it always the Nurse? And why here of all places? She inwardly groaned, and her heart picked up.

            Suddenly, there was a hoo followed by a whoosh, and the terrifying killer was on top of her. The saw was raised as she appeared, drifting just in front of her. Her face was hidden by the grimy pillow case, a few splats of blood on it, and her head cocked to one side. Meg shrieked and the generator jammed, rocking as it blasted itself back to partial operation. The Nurse had pinned her, and there was nowhere to go. She panicked and raised her arms, clamping her eyes shut. Every part of her body tensed as she awaited the saw to dig into her flesh and bone.

            “Not you.”

            Meg heard another blink, and opened her eyes. She trembled violently, but the Nurse was gone. Did… Did she just speak to me?

            There wasn’t time to waste on the voices she may or may not have heard within this terrifying place, and she returned to the repairs. For the rest of the trial, she could hear her allies being attacked and rescued. They had each other’s back, and Meg focused on the repairs. After four generators, she joined a battered Tapp on powering through. He refused medical, and they brought it to working status again. The gates were powered, and he headed to the nearest switch. In the distance, she could hear Kate wailing as she went up on a hook. The Nurse immediately blinked away, and Meg surged to the hook, quickly pulling her off. Together, they sprinted for the gate Tapp went for.

            The detective yelped out in the distance, and the Nurse collected him. He went onto a hook again, but the entity was all too ready to take him this time. With a final push towards the end, the last survivor met up with them. It was Claudette again, and they hustled out. However, the Nurse emerged from the spirit world and struck Kate down. Forced to keep going, the unscathed pair continued on, casting sad glances to the singer as she was about to meet her end to the entity.

            Arriving at the gate, Claudette bolted for the exit as the Nurse arrived outside. With Meg left alone, she stopped and merely stared. She’s hesitating? Meg wondered. The white-clad killer lowered her weapon and merely gave her a gentle nod. The sprinter’s eyes went wide, her gaze narrowing in confusion and surprise. Meg stepped backwards towards the exit gate. The Nurse blinked to her as she reached the edge, and she braced herself to be sliced again. The killer leaned close as her hands landed on Meg’s chest.

            “Maybe next time, Meg,” she whispered.

            The sprinter was shoved out, and the entity’s wall formed. Meg rolled and quickly stood up, her eyes never leaving her. The Nurse waved and the fog overtook the sprinter. As she returned to the campfire, her confusion was evident on her face, and she ignored the others welcoming her back. Her mind played the moments of strangeness back over and over, and she took a seat by herself on the edge of the fire. The most bizarre thing of all: the Nurse knew her name.
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The Shame Game