The front lawn of the house looked... well, lived in, in the most chaotic way possible. A dusty, deflated bouncy house sat slumped across the yard like a dead inflatable carcass, while several kiddie pools were scattered around the grass—some collapsed and empty, others still holding filthy, stagnant water. There also seemed to have been some attempt at starting a garden, though it looked half-abandoned, like whoever had tried had lost interest before anything could properly begin. The grass itself had grown long and wild, making the entire yard feel unruly and neglected. Even the house carried that same tired energy: its exterior was old and worn, the paint faded with age, and the whole thing sat there in a plain, bland beige that made it look even more lifeless.
Rene stared at it, baffled. "What happened out here."
A.C. answered without the slightest hint of shame. "Parties and fun, we're also really irresponsible spenders."
Rene turned his attention toward him. "How much money do you make off of monster hunting?"
A.C. gave a careless shrug. "I dunno."
Rene looked at him like he had just said something completely absurd. "What do you mean, by 'I dunno'???"
A.C. waved him off, clearly unimpressed by the concern. "Look, we don't monster hunt for the greater good of the world. We do it because we know it's easy, quick, and simple. Most of the time it doesn't take money out of our pockets to monster hunt. Even after saying all of that, you don't have definitive prices on our hunts, we just take what we can get."
Rene opened his mouth, clearly ready to push the issue, but A.C. cut him off before he could get far, pressing a finger against his lips.
"Blah blah blah blah. I do not care about that shit. Hop in the Shubaru," A.C. said, pointing toward an old, scratched-up red 2020 Subaru Outback parked in the driveway.
Rene stared at the car, then back at him. "Subaru?"
A.C. gave him a flat look. "Shubaru."
"Subaru..."
"Shubaru."
Rene sighed. "Ok whatever."
A.C. climbed into the driver's seat, Arthur slid into the passenger seat, and Rene climbed into the back. The inside of the car, at least, was surprisingly clean compared to the wreck of a yard outside.
Rene glanced forward, disbelief creeping into his voice. "Wait... you're driving?"
A.C. sounded offended by the question. "Hell yea, I'm a good driver."
Rene's answer came instantly. "You literally killed me on the road."
A.C. did not even hesitate. "Well you apparently were committing suicide."
Rene shot right back, "And you still hit me."
"Shut up. Arthur, start the directions to the place."
Arthur nodded once. "Got it."
A.C. started the car and pulled out, the engine humming as they got moving.
Rene stared at him from the backseat, still hung up on everything. "So, are you gonna explain the whole monster thing, or what?"
A.C. exhaled like he had been waiting for that exact question. "Alright alright, I'll try my best. So there are two types of supernatural forces in the world. The ones that come naturally and the ones that are manifested by something above our simple understanding."
Rene immediately frowned. "That- That makes no sense."
A.C. kept his eyes on the road. "Shut up and keep listening. The natural forces are of course monsters. Ghosts, vampires, ghouls, all of those are things that are naturally a part of the world. The things that aren't natural to the world, and are manifested, are what people who believe and know that supernatural forces exist call genres."
Rene blinked, trying to process that. "Like movie genres?"
"Yeah exactly. Though I don't know why, the universe seems to be wanting to make a story of its own. Once it has its eyes on something that perfectly fits a role, it gives that thing a genre. Only one of each genre can exist, but whatever has a genre is extremely powerful... to an extent."
Rene turned slightly in the seat. "Like how powerful?"
A.C. answered with a low, matter-of-fact tone. "It seriously does depend on what kind of genre you are. Genre abilities seem to work like the movies they're based on. If you're given something like the fantasy genre, you'll have abilities that fit the cliché of that genre."
Rene leaned back, thinking it through. "And you said that the universe has the think you'd fit the roll well enough for you to get the genre?"
A.C. let out a short, dry sound. "Well that's just my personal theory. I split genres into four categories. The first one are the specific genres, which aren't really genres, and more like glorified roles. It's like getting something called 'The Victim' where your only role is to die or whatever. These can range from weak to strong depending on which role you get. Next are the basic genres, which are barely better than roles, but they're vague enough to the point where you can get more abilities from em. The ones above are over-arching genres, which are the highest of what I consider 'mortal' genres. They are so vague that some might even have abilities from basic genres. The highest one, and the rarest ones are the plot genres. Ones that are based on story elements and fuck with fate."
Rene stared at him, equal parts confused and impressed. "How does somebody get casted as a story element..?"
A.C. didn't even glance over. "Fuck, you think I know?"
Rene gave him a sideways look. "Yeah, you seem very knowledgeable on the topic.."
A.C. scoffed. "Well I am, and I do not know. We've only run into one plot genre EVER. So you get it, both monsters and genres exist, but here's the thing, monsters can also have genres. If a monster represents the type of monster they are so well, they get a genre."
Rene nodded slowly. "Right, so do you have a genre?"
A.C. answered with total confidence. "Yeah, I told you like five times, I'm THE MONSTER."
Rene looked him up and down, unconvinced. "But... you don't seem... too much like a.... monster."
A.C.'s tone sharpened just a little. "You should see me fight."
Rene frowned, still trying to pin him down. "What kind of monster are you anyway?"
A.C. answered simply, like it was obvious. "Bout all of em."
Rene's head tilted. "What?!"
A.C. kept going, as if he had finally found a part of the explanation he could actually say clearly. "Depends on what you classify as a monster. I have the DNA of a multitude of monsters in me, hence why I'm 7'9, and I wear things that conceal my skin, like my shades, my hat, the bandages on my arm."
Rene blinked again, taking it in. "So are you like... half vampire or something?"
A.C. shook that down immediately. "Think less Halloween monsters and more beastly monsters. Things that can't really be put into a category other than being a monster. Hence why I'm considered an overarching genre."
Rene's eyes drifted over him again. "Right, but for a monster, you're pretty... human, and tame...."
A.C. gave a knowing hum. "I know I know. I'm not a villain, I'm a monster, and I choose to not look like a goddamn barbarian, I choose to fit in. This form you see me in isn't my actual true form, I can shape-shift of course."
Rene let that settle for a second, then nodded a little. "I guess that... makes a little bit of sense. What about Arthur? He said he was a demon, and so is he THE demon?"
A.C. started to answer—
"Oh hell no—"
The car suddenly came to a screeching halt.
A.C. sat there for a second, then said, "We're here."
The car came to a stop in front of a cabin that looked long past its better days.
Its shape sat under the weight of neglect, tired and isolated, as if nobody had bothered with it in years.
A.C. spoke first, already sounding impatient. "We're here to kill The Chainsaw Killer, by that you can probably guess what kind of genre the dude is."
Rene looked over at him, skeptical. "Wait, you're quizzing me?"
A.C. gave him a sidelong glance. "I said a whole lotta shit. I gotta make sure you were listening."
Rene thought it over for a second, then answered. "Well chainsaw killers aren't too common so... basic?"
A.C. nodded once. "Correct! You listened. Now, get out of the car."
Rene stiffened. "Wait, you're taking me with you?"
A.C. flashed him a smug look as he stepped out of the car. Arthur got out right after him.
"Yooou doubted me, and I'm all too eager to prove your ass wrong." A.C. turned back toward the car. "Outta the car."
Rene hesitated only a moment before climbing out.
"If all you said was true... is this really safe for me to do?" Rene asked.
A.C. answered without much concern. "As long as I'm here, you shouldn't be worried."
Arthur stepped ahead of the two of them, straightening up as if he were leading the way into something important.
"No need to fear! I am here!"
Rene stared at him. "Again, what does he do?"
A.C. answered simply, "He's pretty cool."
Arthur moved first, heading toward the cabin with A.C. following close behind him.
The three of them approached the door and slowly pushed it open. The moment it gave way, Rene started to gag.
GAH, it smells like rotting flesh, rotting corpses even...
They stepped inside and were met with a grisly scene. The place was filled with dead, broken bodies, some torn apart with brutal force. Blood coated the walls, the ceiling, and the floor, turning the whole cabin into a nightmare of red and ruin.
A.C. looked around with a casual kind of detachment. "I can't quite smell, see, or sense anything here."
Arthur tilted his head slightly. "I also assume you can't hear his presence. Is that correct?"
"Yup."
The three of them kept moving through the cabin, A.C. and Arthur walking like they had all the time in the world while Rene trailed behind them more carefully.
A.C. turned his head a little. "Arthur, do you have any info on this chainsaw killer?"
Arthur answered as they walked. "The person who gave me the info was an escapee. They told me that the killer was masked and very loud. Escaping was almost impossible for her, she said that the cabin was almost like a maze."
A.C. glanced around the interior. "It does seem to be a little bigger on the inside than on the outside."
Rene frowned. "Wait, if you guys can't sense anything, how are you sure anyone is here? For what you guys could know, the killer left the cabin."
A.C. gave a small nod. "That's a good point. You make good points."
Arthur responded more quietly, as if thinking through it in real time. "I can slightly sense a presence in this cabin. I'm not sure if it's that of the killer though, it doesn't feel like one of an aggressive being."
Rene looked between them. "So something is here?"
A.C. replied, "Yeah, and we're gonna investigate until we find it."
They kept going.
Then, as the three of them passed a doorway in the hallway, something moved in the darkness behind it.
Because Rene was the last one to cross, he was the first to notice it. A tall, bulky figure emerged from the shadows, its white mask stitched up and expressionless. In its hands was an orange chainsaw that gave off an eerie, almost glowing light.
The chainsaw killer.
The machine in his grip began to hum violently.
Rene's eyes widened just as he barely registered the threat, and almost on instinct, he ducked.
The chainsaw killer swung once—fast, wide, and with terrifying force. In a single brutal motion, the attack took A.C. and Arthur down. Rene whirled around, trying to process what had just happened, but before he could fully react, the cabin itself seemed to shift. The walls surged and swallowed both of their bodies, leaving Rene alone with the killer.
What the...
The chainsaw buzzed even louder.
The killer's voice tore through the air. "I WANT MORE BLOOD ON MY SAW!!!"
He brought the weapon down at Rene.
Rene barely rolled away in time and hit the floor on his back, but he scrambled up almost immediately and bolted down the hall.
"SAAAAAAH!!!" the killer roared, chasing after him while dragging the chainsaw messily across the ground.
The thing was terrifyingly fast. Rene was fast too, though only just.
Why did my instincts kick in there? They didn't when I was about to get hit by a car, and they didn't when the lights went out at that house. So why now? Why flight?
He turned sharply into a bedroom and slammed the door behind him, sprinting toward the bed inside, but before he could do anything else, the door was cut through with shocking ease.
"YAHAHAHA!!!"
The killer lunged into the room and struck again.
Rene managed to throw himself out of the way just in time, and the chainsaw bit cleanly through the bed instead.
He stumbled back to his feet, only to have his back hit the wall. He tried to slip around the killer, but the killer moved too quickly and cut him off. Another swing came flying in, but this time Rene ducked under it and rolled toward the doorway. The miss sent the chainsaw crashing into the wall instead, though the killer recovered almost instantly and came after him again.
Rene made it out of the room and sprinted back into the hall. The killer burst out from the room next to him and kept chasing.
"STOP IT!!! STOP RUNNING FROM ME!!!"
The killer swung forward and caught Rene across the back.
The strike did not go deeply, but it tore through enough to send a sharp burst of pain through him and shove him stumbling forward. He lurched headfirst into a door, and the impact sent it swinging open as he tumbled through.
It was the living room.
The room looked just as abandoned as the rest of the house. Dust clung to everything. There was an old box TV, a worn pink couch with holes and tears in it, a moss-covered coffee table with an empty wine bottle sitting on top, and several shelves lined with dusty books.
Rene hit the couch, but the moment he saw the killer charging again, he twisted away and crashed into the coffee table instead. The killer missed his mark once more and split the couch clean in half, but the impact also knocked the wine bottle to the floor, where it shattered.
The killer turned sharply and attacked again.
Rene rolled away just in time, and the chainsaw sliced through the table instead.
Unfortunately for Rene, he rolled straight into the broken glass from the bottle. The shards cut into his arms, but he forced himself through it anyway, stumbling up and backing against the wall.
The killer screamed and started swinging wildly, his chainsaw cutting through the air with barely any aim.
Rene dodged some of the swings, forcing the killer's weapon to get lodged in the wall for a moment, but the killer yanked it free with frightening ease and took a wide swing toward him. This time the blade caught Rene across his left thigh, tripping him up.
He fell back against the bookshelf, and the killer charged again, screaming.
In a panic, Rene snatched two dusty books from the shelf behind him and hurled them straight at the killer's head. Both struck home against the skull with a sharp, blunt impact, and the killer recoiled just enough to be stunned for a moment.
But that only made him angrier.
He stomped his foot twice with brutal force, each impact punching holes into the floorboards and rattling the entire room. His muscles tightened hard, the veins in his arms bulging beneath his skin, and his eyes began to glow red.
The Chainsaw Killer let out a guttural sound. "HNNNNGH!!!"
Then, as if some new strength had been forced into him, he came down at Rene with terrifying speed and force.
Rene barely managed to roll out of the way again, stumbling clumsily back to his feet before the killer could finish him. The bookshelf he had been standing in front of was sliced clean in half without effort. The killer turned with inhuman swiftness and slashed again.
Rene tried to back away, but the chainsaw still caught him across the chest, spilling more blood. Before he could react to that, the killer surged forward and slammed his shoulder into Rene's chest with enough force to launch him through the wall.
Rene crashed into the room beside the living room—the kitchen—bursting through the damaged wall and over the old kitchen counter in the process. Utensils clattered and spilled everywhere as his body slammed to the floor. He ended up pressed against the oven door, blood running from his mouth and down his chin, dripping onto his pants.
How am I even still alive? What were those instincts? There's no way all of what I did was adrenaline or nerves... it had to be more than that. I've never moved like that in my life...
The killer ripped through the hole in the wall Rene had made with his own body, the chainsaw snarling as it tore through the opening. His eyes were glowing red now, and the veins in his arms stood out like thick vines. Slowly, he advanced on Rene, the chainsaw practically roaring in his grip.
Rene weakly reached down and grabbed a knife that had fallen from the counter when he was thrown across the room.
I never had these kinds of instincts. I never had this kind of durability. With the amount of blood I've lost and the damage I've taken, I'm surprised I'm even conscious still.
He coughed up blood as he slowly forced himself back onto his feet, his stare locked dead onto the killer's eyes.
It's almost like my body has been overhauled. It's almost as if my senses have been overhauled.
His grip around the knife tightened.
I've regained flight, and I want to fight. I wasn't running because I was scared. I still don't feel the fear of death. Yet... I'm moving to survive. My body is trying to survive.
Through grit and mental fortitude, one can accomplish anything.
People encounter life-ending situations every day, and many yearn for the instinct to avoid them. The universe does not have favorites. Everyone is equal in the grand scheme of things. But what if the world had a favorite? What if a body and fate moved in tandem to keep someone alive? What if someone simply was not allowed to die?
Rene Relick, age 18, fit that description perfectly.
There are many people in the world who are not mentally afraid of death, but their bodies are. What would happen if both the mind and the body were unafraid of death, but fate itself feared death on their behalf?
From this moment on, Rene Relick became The Survivor.