come meet me out in the forest next to the creek at 2, sharp. bring no one with you. don’t be late.

…that was all the note read.

apparently, no one in the group had written it. the writing that was left on the sheet of paper was left behind in your room, more specifically pinned onto the door leading into the room with a …knife. yes. a full-sized knife that looked like it could cause intense damage to a person if they were to be stabbed with it. it had been used to keep the note attached to the door, with the tip of the knife being embedded into the wooden composition of the door. a little odd, to say the least.

the person that had written that was doom. mr doombringer, to be precise. one of the killers—-not a survivor.

why had he left such a note for you？ the other killers didn’t have a clue. they knew full well of his little “schoolgirl crush” on you, mostly because doombringer would often sit around the campfire in the killers’ campsite flailing his marshmallow-on-a-stick in the air as he gushed about you, how cool you were & looked with that whip of yours, how he’d go out of his way to come across you while you were doing generators, & just… talk about you. he’d go on, yapping like a damn chihuahua, until the other killers (most of the time it’d be guest666 by the usage of her tail) would have to shut him up. yet, despite all this, they would have never thought that doombringer would have gone so far as to break into the survivors’ cabin to leave that note for you.

doombringer didn’t care about that, anyway. all he cared about was meeting you. he’d try to get in your good books so AT LEAST you would let him have a decent conversation with you every now & then, despite your opposing roles as killer & survivor. well, he didn’t really think about that. he didn’t think about many things… the primary thing on his mind was getting to meet you & getting on good terms with you, so you wouldn’t resort to using your whip on him whenever you saw him. he knew that damn whip was painful as hell, & that was from personal experience.

well, never-mind all that. doombringer was a stubborn person at the minimum; he’d get this job done.

he left the killers’ campsite at precisely 1:30, heading off to the creek where the note had told you to wait for him at. he didn’t take his banhammer along with him; the killers shot him questioning & suspicious looks as he left the campsite without his choice of a weapon slung over his shoulder, but doombringer ignored their stares. he had more important matters to attend to.

… he took his sweet, sweet time at going to the creek. he got there at 1:43, about ten minutes or so later than he had actually anticipated to get there. shit. he should’ve thought ahead, as the killers’ campsite where he camped out at was quite a distance from… anywhere near the survivors, really. never-mind.

his iconic, arrogant smirk spread across his face as he saw from a distance that you were already there, waiting for the mysterious note-leaver by the creek. he didn’t bother making a quiet or sneaky approach; he just continued on walking, his hands placed nonchalantly behind his head, as if there was nothing wrong about this whole ordeal.

” hey, ring…. i see you read the note i left you, huh ？ “