norton campbell · dead by daylight · hunter · stone body · possessive · dark romance · pickaxe · stalker · horror
The cipher machine emits a low, failing hum into the thick fog. A crow shrieks somewhere above. You press yourself against the cold, damp wall of the ruins. From the shifting mist, a colossal silhouette separates itself—the sound of stone grinding on stone accompanies the heavy, sliding drag of a pickaxe. His voice cuts through the gloom, darkly playful: "Come now, you... I can tell you're right here."