Bubba had done what She had asked of him. Once again he'd hunted down the meat with brutal efficiency, and hung them on the hooks for Her to carry away. It wasn't over, of course- one last survivor still remained. But at this point, he was fairly certain that She was pleased. He would likely not be punished, not this time.
His nerves moderately eased, he sets out to end this ordeal.
His eyes dart about the woods as he keeps a lookout for both hatch and survivor, but both elude him. A frustrated whine escapes him, and he grips his sledge and chainsaw tightly in his hands. What were they planning?
To say it had been a rough day for Felix (and, really, all of the survivors in the trial) was a bit of an understatement. One by one, they'd fallen and his attempts to help would be wasted as this trial's killer mowed them down again. When he had managed to get the attention off those he had just rescued, he had accidentally led him straight to others working on generators. His only escape was the Hatch, which was still open --- somewhere, he could feel its hum in his bones, though it was too far away for him to pinpoint it. He probably wouldn't be able to hear it anyway, his blood was rushing in his ears. If he was lucky, the man with the chainsaw would find the hatch first, leaving him to the gates. Gates, gates he could manage. Eldritch portals back to safety? Not so much.
Felix stopped short on his crouched approach. There was a flash of yellow ahead of him, too close for anyone's comfort. He hadn't decided on a useful indicator yet, some called him the Cannibal and well, that seemed fitting enough, given the mask. He couldn't exactly call him the chainsaw-man, given there were two of them out there. God, why did that have to be anyone's weapon of choice? They were so loud- brutal- He shook himself, trying to regain his focus, he could still - he could still -
It was a bad situation and he knew it. How many times had he gotten mowed down at the exit gate, thinking he was home free? If he kept going, he'd be found regardless. It was- better to yield and get it over with. And maybe... maybe...
The other survivors had mentioned it happening occasionally, a small glimpse of mercy from the people hunting them for sport. That was the best he could hope for. He took a deep breath and stepped away from the wall he'd been hugging. He leaned against a locker with a loud thump and stared at the direction of the killer with his head bowed. His words were weary and dulled with pain. "I yield."
It would hurt like hell. But with how he had ran the game that day, it seemed difficult to imagine the death as anything other than karmic punishment.
Bubba's fretting is cut short by a loud thump. Immediately he whips around to face the source, head canting as he spots him, leaning against the locker. The man was freely dripping blood from an earlier wound- it was a miracle he was still conscious, really. Then again, people took a lot more damage in this domain.
Cautiously Bubba steps close, tools raised. He knew of some survivors - that blond haired one in particular - who would let him get close, only to drive glass into his back. It hurt. Perhaps he was plotting that now.
But, he didn't seem to have anything in his hands. Why wasn't he running?
Bubba is only a few feet away from him, and he stares him down, brown eyes troubled behind his mask. Chainsaw still pointed at him.
He revs it-- before lowering it, whimpering. The chainsaw sputters to a halt as its teeth grind into the dirt.
Felix braces himself as the chainsaw revs up, wincing backwards. His instincts tell him to go, go, run, run but he only pushes himself further against the locker, the movement upsetting his wound. He closes his eyes, expecting a sharp burst of pain and a reawakening back in the camp. It didn't happen. There was a soft pelting as dirt flew up, disturbed by the chainsaw. Felix slowly opens his eyes, looking up at the Cannibal with wide eyes.
"Why.. why aren't you- I thought you'd-" Felix took a shuddering breath, the words weren't coming out right and he fell quiet again. The man could just be playing with him, he was sure that there were a few of the killers that would enjoy toying with a survivor's emotions. But why did he whimper - near hidden underneath the rev of the chainsaw. He adjusted slowly, sitting up a little straighter, gasping slightly in pain. Then he stills, looking up again, focusing on the sewing on his mask. If he could change his fate then- he tried again, even though the words stuck like cotton to his throat. "You won. My friends- I wasn't going to get out without you catching me." His voice is quiet, wavering slightly. "I thought I shouldn't waste your time."
When Bubba killed, it was out of necessity. He killed people who broke into his home, people that Drayton brought back and yelled at him to take care of... If he didn't, those people would run away, get his family torn apart. Now he worked for the Entity, and if he didn't continue his work, She would hurt him, or worse- hurt his family.
But he'd sated Her, and the man before him wasn't fighting or screaming horribly like those other ones. He was putting himself entirely in Bubba's hands.
Bubba is trembling. He doesn't respond to Felix's words. Instead, he groans, a low, guttural noise as he shifts from foot to foot. Everything he does is driven by fear. In the absence of it, he's not used to having to decide for himself what to do.
He collapses into a sitting position, his babbling high-pitched with distress. Dropping his weapons, he hides his face instead, cowering before the survivor. A part of his mind screams at him that the man could run away now, but he can't react - he just continues to wail.
Despite all this, Felix still expected either the revving of a chainsaw or the swing of a hammer, a last moment of pain. He did not expect the man in front of him to start wailing. He shoots to his feet, hoping to take the chance to get further away, maybe he could actually find the hatch now, but the sudden motion sends upsets his wound and he needs to take a minute to steady himself.
"Why- why are you?" He stammered. "Are you okay, I'm sorry-" He wasn't actually sorry, if he really thought about it but it was the easiest thing in the world to be apologetic the way the man was now. If it had been any other circumstances, Felix would've tried approaching him. As it was, he shouldn't be lingering but - he couldn't help the empathy that welled in him. And despite it all, he tried his very best to hold onto some of his own humanity. There'd be no point to escaping if he had let the ordeal harden him to simple kindnesses, so his thinking went. He should be madder at the man, considering the other survivors had gotten hooked and carried away but- there was a growing numbness to that fact now.
Of course, he couldn't help him much. Felix had no idea what had upset him so, unless he wished for the thrill of the chase and been denied. But that seemed - particularly gruesome a thought. Any words of comfort sounded weak to his own ears. "Hey, it's going to be- okay. It's okay."
Bubba sniffles as Felix speaks, watery brown eyes meeting his. It's not much, but his words do help manage the shaking in his shoulders. It was... okay? Yes, it must be... Nothing bad was going to happen, whatever he did now. He just had to tell himself that. With a low moan, the forlorn killer picks himself up.
He momentarily lifts his mask to wipe at his cheeks, allowing for a glimpse of half of his face. His cheeks have a touch of roundness to them, and they're flushed pink with exertion. Pulling his mask back down his neck, he turns his attention to the man, fidgeting.
Sparing a glance at his weapons on the ground, he steps forward. His steps are almost comedically light as he approaches the man, making faint clucking noises. Tilting his head, he offers a hand.
Felix tried to offer a small smile when their eyes met, though it was pained with effort and he dropped the contact quickly. He didn't arrive here thinking he would be comforting a killer but... anything really was possible in a realm beyond imagination. He flinches when the hand is first offered, feeling a small flash of fear, but he took it.
"Th-thank you." Maybe he felt like he could cry out of relief too, especially as he notices the weapons staying on the ground. "This is...." He hesitates, not quite sure what the word was that he wanted to use. "Kind."
It didn't feel quite right, but the thought was there.
There was a small stab of fear, as if he were betraying the people he would soon see around the campfire again, but he tries to dismiss it. Surely, they'd understand he was doing it out of necessity... He decided to keep the result of the trial under lock and key. He wasn't a good liar but most weren't in the habit of asking, it wasn't as if there was often anything different than they died or they lived, so he wouldn't offer it.
He wants to say something, anything to prevent this from being exactly awkward and only settled on a small introduction. It didn't seem the other was big on conversation, exactly which was.... understandable. Most days, he wasn't either. "I am Felix, by the way."