Chapter Text
His memory was foggy at best, his head pounding as his eyes opened to reveal blurry vision. Oliver slowly sat up and rubbed at his eyes to clear the haze. Where was he?
The air around him was silent and the sky was dark and cloudy, wasn't it just midday?
Suddenly, there's a flurry of dark feathers in the corner of his eyes and the single caw of a crow that was staring down at him from a large boulder nearby, a large boulder he had never seen before in his life.
His eyes widened in a panic and he stood up quickly as he frantically looked around. nothing was right, the grass beneath his feet was dry and the earth cracked where he could have sworn it was still damp from that mornings rain. There were trees with leaves he didn't recognize and the bark an odd shade of brown that just set him off for some unknown reason.
He had just rested his eyes while sitting on the ground of his goat pen, he didn't expect to fall asleep and definitely not to wake up somewhere new.
He suddenly heard a scream in the distance and his first instinct was that someone might be in trouble, so he started running towards the source of the noise. "Hello-" He started to yell out, only to be cut off by a hand suddenly covering his mouth. He yelped, struggling against the arms dragging him into a bush that seem like they belong to a person smaller than him. He could most likely overpower them, but the panic made his movements frantic and uncoordinated.
"Shut the fuck up before he hears you!" A woman's voice snarls into his ear before uncovering his mouth and spinning him around. The stranger's appearance made Oliver's jaw drop.
She's short with black sideswept hair covered partially by a beanie. She wears a dark green tank top and dirty ripped jeans with a chain dangling from one side. Her eyes are a pale, icy blue and her expression is sour. "N-No way..." Oliver murmurs to himself.
Her expression sours even more at that.
"Look." She begins in a harsh whisper. "You need to keep quiet, or else you'll get killed. Got it?" Oliver nodded, assuming that he was in some sort of dream. There was no way that that was Nea, right?
The woman grabs him by the arm and practically shoves him down into a crouch, crouching down beside him as she places a finger over her lips. There's a heart beat, and somehow Oliver knows it isn't his.
He hears loud, stomping footsteps and he brings a hand up to cover his mouth. When the source of the sound comes into view, Oliver can't help but let out a gasp.
It comes from a large, muscular man with sharp pieces of metal protruding from his arms and shoulder, giving the man a gruesome appearance. Covering his face is a white mask made of bone. Sharp teeth carved from the material in the mask's mouth and there are two holes for eyes, darkened by shadow. He wears a pair of sturdy boots and a simple set of brown overalls and no shirt underneath, revealing hard, dirty tanned skin covered in crisscrossing scars. In one hand the large man holds a bear trap, the teeth on it looking like they had been sharpened multiple times and stained with red. In the other he held a makeshift blade made of sharp metal dripping with fresh blood.
The man stops dead in his tracks, his body freezing as he hears Oliver's gasp, his head slowly turning towards the bush they were hiding in. The action was simple, but Oliver couldn't help the shiver that ran through him.
The woman beside him froze, her body going completely stiff before turning to him. "Run!" She exclaimed before bolting from the bush, her feet carrying her quickly away.
Oliver, on the other hand, was frozen, staring at the massive man in front of him. Slowly, he brings himself to his feet, revealing himself although he was almost 100% certain the man already knew he was there.
Once he's fully standing, he notices a few things. The first is that the Trapper is not as tall as he'd imagined, only being a little taller than himself. Another is that the killer's muscles look way more defined in this dream than they had ever looked in the game. And finally, he notices that in the dim light, he can just barely see glimmering eyes from the holes in the mask. Oh the images an active imagination can conjure up at the age of 23.
Sure, maybe the Trapper wasn't the top on his list, but he was definitely pretty high up there and Oliver wasn't about to say no.
"Hey! The hell do ya think you're doing!?" He turned his head to see Nea, he was sure of it now, looking at him with an expression that's a mix of horror and disbelief. "Get the hell outta there!" And with that, she turned and ran once more, her hair billowing behind her.
He looked back at the killer who had stepped closer, that sharp piece of metal that the killer called a blade raising to strike. But Oliver saw it as an opportunity, an opening. He stepped forward, his hands coming up to be placed on the killer's hard chest. "Nice 'n firm." Oliver murmured to himself as he looked down at scarred flesh beneath his hands.
The killer tenses at the touch, his arm freezing with his weapon held up in the air.
Oliver tilted his head back to look up at the killer with a smirk and he can see those glimmering eyes beneath the mask open wide, his jaw dropping slightly in shock.
Then his face twists beneath the mask, his eyes narrowing and his lips peeling back in an angry snarl. he raises his weapon high and brings it down with an enraged roar and just before Oliver's vision goes black, he can almost swear that he sees a red flush tinting the killer's skin.
Chapter Text
Oliver felt a hard poke in his side and groaned in protest, his eyes shut and his brows furrowing. Another poke made him groan again, his hand coming up to lightly bat away whatever it is that's poking him. "Gimmie a bit, Doozy..." He mumbled sleepily.
"Oi! Get up!" A gruff voice says, his tone impatient.
"Easy, Easy." A softer voice says. "We need to be at least a little gentle with the new ones so they don't freak out."
There's a scoff. "Gentle my ass. How do ya think they'll survive if we go easy on 'em?"
Oliver slowly opens his eyes to see a pair of men kneeling on either side of him. one is a large, muscular man with a crooked nose and an undercut haircut. His expression is stern and he wears a simple button up shirt covered by a dark jacket as well as a pair of blue jeans and a pair of dirty black and white tennis shoes.
The other man is thinner with short dark hair and glasses. He also wears a simple button up with a black and red tie, he wears black slacks instead of jeans and black dress shoes. His brown eyes are large with concern and he brings his hand up to his mouth to bite at his nails, which are already short from near constant chewing.
Their skin and clothes are covered in dirt and grime, most likely from countless trials and whatever they end up getting up to in the survivor camp.
Oliver shifts, bringing his hand up to rest on his chest, drawing attention from the two men kneeling over him.
"He's awake!" The raven haired man exclaims before flinching and looking around self-consciously as if his outburst had caused a disturbance.
"Took ya long enough." The large man says, standing up and offering both of them a hand. "Lets get cha to your feet, up ya come."
Oliver reaches up to grab his hand, letting him help pull him up. "Thanks David."
"No problem, m-" David cuts himself off midsentence to stare at him. "What... did you just say?"
The ginger smiles, releasing David's hand. "I said thanks."
That when he realizes that David and Dwight aren't the only other people there. They're close to a campfire with logs around it and other people sitting or standing who look at him curiously. He's able to recognize more faces there, Claudette, Jake, Leon, Steve, Chris, Kate, and many more.
"Kid..." A low, growling voice brings his attention back to David, Dwight's a little ways away, looking at Oliver with concern and maybe even a hint of fear. "Ya better tell me right now how exactly ya know my name." The large man says, his tone and expression threatening. He crosses his arms over his chest,, making himself look even more imposing.
Oliver only continues to smile. "Well, this ain't the first time I've seen y'all in a dream. Y'all are from my favorite game after all, so it's only normal." He take a step closer to them. "Never had one this realistic though, I can see every detail, just like with the Trapper."
He walks over to Dwight and pulls him into a tight hug, making the other man squeak in confusion and fear. "W-What?" He stammers.
He buries his face in the office worker's shoulder, inhaling his scent deeply. "I can even smell ya..." He murmurs softly, his voice muffled against the other man's shirt.
David swiftly steps forward and places a hand on Oliver's shoulder, trying to drag him away from Dwight. "The hell are you talking about!? this isn't a dream!
The ginger doesn't release Dwight, but he pulls back enough to look up at David. "Whaddya mean? 'Course it a dream. DBD's just a game I really like." He says confidently.
What he doesn't expect next is a pinch to his arm.
Ow! "He says, releasing the raven haired man and rubbing his arm where the large man had pinched him. "What was that for?"
The fighter looks down at him, crossing his arms over his chest once more. "Pinch me if I'm dreamin' right?"
Oliver's eyes widen and he freezes, his mind taking in the words. "What...?" His voice is now barely above a whisper.
"You're not dreaming... Sorry." It's Dwight who speaks this time, his expression soft and empathetic despite the flush in his cheeks. He reaches out and gently places a hand on the ginger's back, staring to guide him towards the logs by the fire. "C'mon, you should sit down."
Oliver lets himself be guided, David following close behind them as they go. The office worker brings him to the logs and slowly sits him down on one, kneeling in the grass beside him. "There's no way..." He murmurs to himself in disbelief. "This has to be a dream, I can't be in the game..."
"This ain't a game. At least, not anymore." This new voice is softer, warm even. He turns his head to see Claudette, her large, round glasses reflecting the flickering light of the crackling campfire.
He nods almost absentmindedly, His mind racing a million miles a second at the realization that he's not at home safe in his bed anymore, that he's been basically isekai'd into a horror game full of constant danger.
The botanist doesn't say anything more. Instead, she gently wraps an arm around his shoulders and pull him closer. Oliver lets her, laying his head on her shoulder.
Dwight's expression softens and he regards Claudette with a small, warm smile. "Thanks Claud." He says softly.
She smiles back at him. "Of course."
Suddenly, there's a sound of footsteps rapidly coming closer. Oliver turns his head to see Nea running back to camp. she stops, bending down slightly with her hands on her knees to catch her breath. "What... the fuck... was that!?" She exclaims, lifting her head to look at him directly, only to pause as she sees Claudette holding him.
"What's the matter?" The botanist asks, her voice concerned.
The tagger straightens up, glaring at Oliver. "Oh, ya won't believe what he did!" Nea says, her hand coming up to point at him. "I tried ta get him to run away from the Trapper, and he just goes up and grabs his chest! What the absolute hell was that about!?"
The other survivors eyes widen, a few of them snickering at the image that comes up in their minds.
"I thought this was a dream..." He mumbles softly, his voice barely audible over the crackling of the fire.
"Well too bad!" Nea scoffs and turns her head away, crossing her arms over her chest. "Well at least ya made the bastard too mad to focus properly. Managed to get out of it without anymore hits after that. The other new guy managed to get out only stepping in a trap, needs ta learn to watch where he's going."
Some of the other survivors perk up at her words. "There's another?" One asks. "Where?" Says another.
"This way!" A voice calls out and Oliver turns his head slightly to see Meg running from the same direction Nea had come from, calling out to someone behind her who was obscured by the trees.
There was a glimpse of blond hair through the leaves and he stood up quickly, immediately knowing who it is.
"Ren!?" Oliver calls out.
"Ollie!?" A voice replies.
A man breaks from the tree line. His hair is blond and black at the roots where it had grown in after dyeing, it's styled in cornrows along his head and pulled back into a ponytail. His ice blue eyes are wide with fear, his mouth open to take in panting breaths as he stands there trembling. He wears a white tank top, his arms covered by a brown leather jacket, he also wears a pair of dark brown khaki pants and black boots. His ears have small gauges and one has silver ring piercings at the top.
"Ollie!" Ren exclaims again and runs towards his friend, tackling him to the ground in a tight hug. He buries his face in the crook of Oliver's neck, rough stubble scratching against his skin.
"Woah!" Nea exclaims, jumping slightly as they fall to the ground. But the two of them don't pay her any mind, too lost in their new situation, one in confusion and the other in fear.
"O-Ollie..." Ren whimpers, sniffling as his body trembles.
"Shh, it's okay." Oliver says, trying to sound convincing as he rubs circles in his friends back despite being winded from the fall.
Claudette stands up and rushes over. "Are you two alright?" She asks, her tone concerned.
Ren stiffens up but the ginger sooths him with gentle touches and sounds. "It's alright, she ain't gonna hurt us. She's nice."
The blond pulls back to look down at his friend beneath him. "H-How do ya know?" He asks in a shaky voice.
Oliver slowly sits up, looking his friend in the eyes. "You... You know that horror game I really like, Dead By Daylight?" He says, trying to keep his voice steady.
"Yeah, what about it?"
The Ginger's expression turns serious and he swallows hard, bringing his hands up to cup the blonds face. "Ren... I think we got isekai'd..."
His friend stiffens, his body going stock still as his mixed skin pales with horror. "Ollie... Whaddya mean by that?"
The other survivors around the campfire are watching intently, some with empathy, others with interest or curiosity. Claudette still stands nearby, looking down at them with concern.
Oliver's hands shake slightly as he holds his friends face. "I-I'm sayin' that... that we're in the game, Ren." He can only watch as the little amount of color that remained in his friends face rapidly drains away.
Chapter Text
"Wh... What?" Ren whimpers, his body trembling even harder. his hands come up to clutch at his head. his breaths becoming shallow and rapid.
Oliver's eyes widen and he quickly cups his friend's face. "Ren! It's alright, just calm down."
The blond shakes his head. "Whaddya mean, Ollie!?" He exclaims. "We cant be in the game! what about my momma a-an' my dad, an' yer siblin's, an-" He's cuts himself off with rapid breaths, his eyes wide with fear.
The ginger pulls his friend close, cradling his head against his shoulder. "It's alright. they're all okay, I promise. Tears pricked at the corners of his own eyes at the sight of his friend so distraught, but he needs to be alright right now. for Ren.
Then suddenly there's a nudge against his shoulder. Oliver turns his head to see Feng Min, she had approached without him noticing. she holds her hand out and clutched in her fingers is a pink toy rabbit with blue button eyes. Feng looks down at them empathetically, the corners of her lips quirking up in a small, encouraging smile.
His green eyes linger on the doll for a moment before he slowly takes it into his prosthetic hand, the metal and rubber finger curling gently around the plush. "Thank you..." He murmurs softly.
Feng just nods.
Oliver looks back at Ren, gently pressing the toy to his friends chest. "Here, it's alright." He says softly.
The blond's arms come up to wrap around the plush, holding it close to his chest but it doesn't seem to calm him down at all. His breathing grows even more rapid, his body heaving as tears soak into Oliver's shirt, the other can only hold him tighter until it all just stops.
Oliver pulls back to look down at Ren, his eyes wide with concern.
Ren's eyes are shut, his breathing slowing down but his body limp, he had passed out.
The ginger sighs, cradling his friend close. He rest his cheek on his friend's head. "You're okay. It's okay." He whispers under his breath more to himself than to Ren. "Fuck..."
There's another nudge to his shoulder and he turns to see Bill, his wrinkled face looking down at the two of them with concern. "The kid should lay down." He says softly around his ever-lit cigarette.
Oliver nods and stands up, picking his friend up with one arm under his knees and the other behind his back.
"Over here!" Another voice calls. He turns to see Jake laying a pillow on the ground close to the fire, and Dwight with a thin blanket neatly folded in his arms.
He carries Ren's limp body towards them, laying him gently in the grass on his back before taking the blanket from the leader and using it to cover his friend, the toy rabbit still clutched in the other man's arms. Oliver then lies down beside him, resting his hands on his own chest as he looks up at the dark, blank sky.
Dwight sits on the grass beside his head, looking down at the two of them with concern. "It'll be alright. we'll help you adjust." He promises softly.
Oliver can only nod.
The leader's gaze lingers on him a moment longer before he turns his head to look into the crackling fire.
For a few moments, everyone is quiet. Some look down at them with empathy. Some look around or at each other awkwardly. Others simply stare into the fire as well, watching as the flames lick the air.
Oliver looks over at Ren's sleeping face, mostly peaceful now, but still touched with an edge of unease. "Please wake up soon." The ginger murmurs.
Then suddenly, there's a rustling coming from the woods just outside of the fire's light. The other survivor's faces flash with alarm and they all turn their heads towards the noise. The ginger sits up and looks in that direction as well.
What emerges is something he didn't expect. It's a tall figure with long silver colored hair and a wide-brimmed cowboy hat sitting on his head. He walks with a slight limp and one of his eyes twitch slightly as he pushes through the branches and undergrowth to come into the clearing. He wears a long dark brown leather coat that goes past his knees in the back that's town at the bottom, its connected to what looks like a shawl over his shoulders, the bottom of it equally torn. Under is coat is a brown button-up shirt and a red bandana. Leather straps crisscross his chest, a small bag attached to one. He wore dark brown leather pants and lighter brown boots, a large brace made of leather and metal on one leg while the other had a small holster around his thigh.
His face is pale and wrinkled with age, dark circles around his eyes that betray a lack of sleep. There's a large scar that runs from his chin, splits his lips, and stops at his cheekbone on the left side of his face. He has stubble along his jaw and a long, grey mustache that hangs past his chin and over his neck. His neck... His neck has a raw red ring around it from what looks like rope, he was likely hung at some point, or at least almost hung. And those eyes, eerie bright white pupils that glowed in the shadows cast on his face. one cheek is heavily scarred and flat, making it look gaunt.
The Deathslinger.
"You, Boy!" He was calling to Oliver in a rough, gravelly voice.
The ginger looked around at the faces of the other survivors. Claudette looked frightened, but more curious. Dwight looked horrified and was trying to keep calm. Nea looked at Oliver with a pointed and suspicious gaze. David stood tall and imposing, looking ready to fight if necessary. Leon and Jake stand side by side, flashbangs clutched in their hands while Laurie stepped forward with a shard of glass wrapped in fabric clutched in her hand, where did she gat that? Ace was staring at the Deathslinger with curiosity and what even looked like a glint of admiration in his eyes behind his sunglasses. Bill's face was set in a determined expression while he stood over Ren defensively. Thalita stared hard at the killer, her hand on Renato's shoulder with the urge to protect her younger brother. Meg's arms are crossed over her chest as he glares unwelcomingly at the killer. Quintin sits on one of the logs, his sleepy eyes wide with alarm, Kate sits next to him with her hand on his back, looking up at the killer with an expression of concern.
Oliver looks back up at the killer. "Me?" He asks.
The Deathslinger scoffs. "Yes you. C'mere." He says, motioning him over.
The ginger stands up, slowly beginning to approached only to be stopped by a hand on his shoulder. He looks over to see Dwight, his expression hardened into one of suspicion. "Why? what do you want with him?"
The Deathslinger rolls his eyes, his brows furrowing in annoyance. "I need ta talk to 'im."
"About what?" Meg chimes in.
This seems to make the killer even more annoyed. "'Bout the Trapper." He snaps.
The survivors all around him turn to look at him, causing his face to heat up with embarrassment. "Fuck..."
"Fuck indeed." The killer quips. "Now get the hell over here."
Oliver looks at Dwight who hesitantly releases his shoulder, nodding at him. The ginger makes his way over to the sour-faced killer and stops in front of him.
The Deathslinger raises his hand and for a moment, Oliver thinks the killer might hit him. But instead, the killer's hand presses against some kind of invisible barrier. "Now what the hell was that about!?" the asks in a hushed voice, keeping out of earshot of the other survivors.
Oliver's eyes are fixed on where the killer's hand presses against the barrier, lingering on spots on his palm that are flat from pressing against it with a small sense of fascination. But it quickly gets overshowed by a sense of guilt. the survivor runs a hand through his hair. "I... I'm not sure you'd understand..."
The Deathslinger's eyes narrow at that. "Just tell me anyways." He growls, his voice firm and unforgiving.
The Ginger fidgets with the rubber on his prosthetic hand nervously, a habit he developed when he first got the bionic limb. "Do ya... Do ya know what a video game is?
The killer's expression turns stern. "Now don't cha try an' change the subject!" He warns.
Oliver puts his hand up defensively. "I ain't! I swear its relevant! Just... whaddya know 'bout 'em?"
The killer pauses and looks to the side, his hand coming up to scratch at the side of his neck. "Well... I don't know much. I've heard some o' the younguns talkin' 'bout them." He looks back down at Oliver. "Now how is that relevant?"
The survivor takes a deep breath. "Well, all o' this..." He motions vaguely to everything around him. "Back in my world, it was a video game."
He watches as the killer's brows shoot up in surprise before his eyes slowly narrow in suspicion. "What kinda video game?" He asks slowly.
the ginger looks up at the killer. "It's a horror game where people can either choose to be a killer or a survivor. In each match, there's four survivors an' one killer. The survivors hafta work together an' fix generators to power a gate to escape, an' the killer, well... has ta kill 'em."
The deathslinger listens, his expression slowly morphing into one of fascination. "That's exactly like the trials..." He murmurs.
Oliver nods. "I figured."
"But what does that hafta do with this?" The killer asks again.
The survivor looks away. "Ah, well..." He trails off, trying to find the right words. "When I first woke up in the trail, I kinda... uhm... thought that I was dreamin'."
The killer pauses, his eyes narrowing once more. 'Dreamin'." He repeats. "Ya thought ya were dreamin'?"
Oliver's face flushes slightly. "Well, I mean... The Trapper's not exactly the worst... Ya know what? Never mind, forget I said that." He looks up at the Deathslinger with a pleading expression. "If I'd known it wasn't a dream, I wouldn't... Could ya please apologize to 'im for me?"
The Killer looks stunned. "Apologize? Ya really wanna apologize to 'im?" He asks.
The survivor nods.
The killer shifts his weight to one leg, his head tilting slightly to the side. "An' why's that? Ya know we're killers." He says pointedly, watching closely for his reaction.
"Yeah, well... Ya may be killer, but yer still people. at least most of ya are..." Oliver murmurs, looking down at the ground.
The two of them are silent for a few moments, one looking guilty while the other mills over the words he just heard.
"Kid, gimme yer hand." The Deathslinger finally says, taking a step back to hold out his right hand.
Oliver looks up at him, his face twisting in confusion. "What?"
"Just do it."
"Oh... Alright..." The survivor slowly raises his right hand, his prosthetic, the metal glinting in the dim light. "Uh..." He says, looking down at the metal and rubber.
The killer wordlessly switches to holding out his left hand instead.
Oliver does the same.
The Deathslinger grabs Oliver's hand as soon as it's through the invisible barrier, holding it firmly. "I'll admit kid, you ain't as bad as i thought you'd be. Nice even. But I'll still be keepin' an eye on you. Got it?"
The survivor nods, squeezing the killer's hand in return.
"Good." The killer says, releasing his hand. "I'll go an' tell 'im yer sorry. Ya better get back to the others, that leader of yours looks like he's about to faint." With that, the deathslinger turns on his heel and begins striding away. "Take care, kid."
"O-oh, umm... Bye" Oliver replies awkwardly as he watches the killer disappear into the woods once more.
He takes a slow breath before turning back towards the other survivors. They all seem to have relaxed at least a little except for Bill, who's still standing over Ren, and Dwight who looks like he might pass out from worry.
"So what did he want?" Nea asks, her arms crossed over her chest.
"Well..." Oliver starts, his hand coming up to rub at the back of his neck. "He wanted to ask why I, uhm... grabbed the trapper like that." His face flushes a soft pink. "I told 'im about how this was a video game for me, an' how I thought I was dreamin'. I asked 'im ta apologize fer me, an' he said he would."
"An' do you believe him?' Claudette chimes in.
"Well... I dunno. I hope he will." He replies, his voice softer. He sighs. "I don't really wanna talk about this..." He walks towards the fire, the other survivors stepping aside to let him pass. He stops by Ren and gets down on the ground laying on his side beside his friend and curling up. "Please... wake up soon, Ren."