The Fog ⇢ Dead by Daylight Oneshots

𝚒𝚗𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚍 𝚊𝚙𝚙𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚊𝚗𝚌𝚎

✩ Lisa Sherwood "The Hag" ✘ Reader ✩

❝There were once dying galaxies and crumbling moons under my skin, but then you touched me and brought my universe back to life.❞

EDITED ON 4/24/22

Lisa was lost. She was lost in who she thought she was. Ever since she transformed into a hag and was forced to kill for the enjoyment of the Entity, she didn't know what to do. She didn't know who to be. She didn't feel alive anymore. She felt like a puppet. She just wanted to survive. She never meant to be an ugly killer. She wanted to be loved and accepted.

Lisa was patrolling Backwater Swap's generators. The fog was heavy against her eyes. She sighed as she came upon a group of survivors, they all scattered when they saw her, but the whispers told her to chase. The whispers wanted a sacrifice. Lisa nodded against the noise; she was just a mindless chess piece in the Entity's game.

Meg happened to become a victim of the chase. Lisa could feel her heartbeat as she ran but fell short of the Hag's advances. Lisa cringed as she hit Meg, especially since Meg's screams were loud against her soft ears. Fortunately, for other survivors, the cries meant peace to one another. Meg limped as she tried to get away from Lisa, she tried her best to hide against the foliage, but she lost more ground. Thus, the runner succumbed to her fall.

Lisa picked the girl up and threw Meg over her shoulder. Meg was carried to the nearest hook and cried out as the hook impaled through the skin and muscle and almost scraped against her breast bone. You cringed at the scream. Since you were sitting on the other side of the hook, you could hear the wound's shredding as it opened. You tried your best to lay low in the tall grass that surrounded the base of the hook and hid in the fog that created layers in the space around you. Lisa made sure to draw a trap into the dried-out soil before leaving to find the next person to sacrifice.

As soon as your heartbeat calmed, you jolted up and unhooked Meg, both of you ran to the dilapidated boat in the middle of the land. You tried your best to bandage up Meg's wounds, but you ran out of supplies in your medkit. So you apologized to the redhead and went to work on the generator a couple of feet from where you were, whereas she just disappeared.

As time went on, Lisa tracked everyone down, one by one, until only you were left. You needed to finish one more generator, but sadly your progress was stunted because Lisa had found you. She stared at you as she scraped her knife-like fingers against the hot metal. You fell backward as the screech filled your ears. When you fell, sparks flew from the generator. This caused Lisa to back away, grumbling as she tried not to get kissed by the electric charges. You frowned at her action before you stood and walked over to the woman in front of you, who was now holding onto her slightly burned arm.

You had a change of heart toward the killer in front of you for a moment. Seeing her get hurt and have human emotions was something you've never seen before in a trial. But that moment was short-lived, for you were in the arms' reach of Lisa, and you grunted in pain as she sliced your arm. She hissed at you as blood dripped from the wound. You grimaced at the woman, "You feel what I feel, yet you get scared and hurt others. I was trying to help you. No wonder everyone calls you a murderous witch!"

Lisa shook her head as she murmured, "I have to kill, hurt. If I don't, I get hurt. I must suffer. I never wanted, wanted this!"

"Why did you hurt me then? I was going to help."

"Survival of the fittest." The answer made you huff out a sigh of annoyance. Blood ran down into your palm, but that didn't matter at the moment. So, you grabbed Lisa's non-weapon-like hand and held it, caressed it even.

"Not everyone will try to kill you, hurt you, or even cause you pain. Of course, you need to trust the right people, which is hard, but you will feel better about yourself once you find that connection." As you rambled to Lisa, the Entity's murmurs were loud in her ears, but she did her best to ignore them. Those damned whispers were never comforting like your words. They were always hurtful and demanding. She realized that you were the first to treat her more than a mindless killer, a pawn in a chess game, or even a worn silhouette.