Dead by Daylight Concepts

WELCOME TO DBDCONCEPTS

My name is WheatDraws and I've been drafting and creating Dead by Daylight Chapter Concepts since 2020 and have steadily improved my craft to now, both in icon design and formatting. If you use any of these concepts anywhere or images related to them, please credit me and link back to here! Please consider supporting me or following these and my other projects at the social links above in the navigation bar.

About this Site

Starting in late 2019, I made my first rough concepts. The icons were bad, the balance was horrible, but I enjoyed it.I kept making icons and eventually got in contact with Rarithlynx, who used my icons for a video he made of Springtrap in a Dead by Daylight lobby. It was cool, but I asked if he could credit me for my work since I wasn't listed anywhere. He was nice about it and soon after he presented the idea of doing a gameplay video about an Alien chapter. Thus began the Dead by Daylight Community Concept Team.Since then, I've had this website and consistently updated it with both new and old designs, updated my old work, and grown a community around it. The concepts on this site are less about pure fanservice but to show how cool it would be to have something you're not familiar with, to convince people that maybe because they don't like something doesn't mean it can't be adapted or added in a cool way. I believe putting an immense amount of effort into something like this shows others how valuable it can be and can change the conversation around certain additions to the game for both the fans, BHVR themselves, and even those license holders.

Bridging the gap between idea and execution

Along with hosting a community for concept creation, I have always believed the main thing that keeps people's concepts from being noticed or taken as seriously is presentation, so I've been putting more time and resources into making my own resources and tools available to the public in a way that allows them to be usable and functional with tutorials and guidance on it. Formatting is a huge thing too, as concept creators we don't have a playable demo or video to showcase in most instances, so we have to be descriptive, we have to be exhaustive at times, all so we can make sure our readers understand the vision in writing and reward those who already have that high-detail knowledge of Dead by Daylight an insight into the vision we have for a design or mechanic.

CONCEPT ROADMAP

I plan out my concepts well ahead of time and have design docs on each months ahead of any release at bare minimum to ensure I can do reiterations and rebalancing where necessary. Once a year, I tend to give a look at what's on the way to celebrate my birthday, and this will be where you can see what's coming down the pipeline that I've done some amount of work for. These don't have an estimated release date, but are planned to be released in order as seen below.

FEATURING
SEBASTIAN CASTELLANOS
^{A HARDBOILED DETECTIVE}
THE REINCARNATION
^{A SUFFERING KILLER}

FEATURING
MORGAN YU
^{AN EXPERIMENTAL RESEARCH DIRECTOR}
THE TYPHON
^{AN ABSTRACT KILLER}

FEATURING
THE LIDLESS EYE
^{AN ANCIENT KILLER}

FEATURING
THE CHANGELING
^{A VICIOUS KILLER}

FEATURING
THE ABYSSWALKER
^{A FALLEN KILLER}

This Frequently asked questions section is about dead by daylight concepts.
if you are looking for the faq for perk packs, commissions, and/or me in general, go here.

Do you take requests?

Nope. I like making concepts I'm passionate about or really excited for either creatively or mechanically, which is why I have some concepts that might not make any sense to others but to me, as a fan, I really would love to see. Just don't send me messages asking to make a specific thing, it's the easiest way for me to ignore your message or reply with a very dry or unenthusiastic response.

When will [Concept] get an update for icons/balance/etc.?

It's kinda just "whenever I get around to it". With icons, they take a lot of time and time that could be spent doing commissions where I'm actually making money. Writing concepts, or even updating them, takes a lot of time too. I spend more than I probably should on number crunching and trying to format everything correctly, so I'm hopeful that effort shows.

Will you get music for [Concept] made?

I believe in fairly compensating my friends who make music that I've commissioned from or have gotten permission to use their music if possible, so it's up in the air. If you want to help me get the money for such details, you can always support me on Patreon or Ko-Fi.

Can I post my concepts to this site?

Nope. This site was unfortunately named a very specific way when I first made it, so now it ends up coming off as the "go-to" place for sharing concepts when it's just my stuff, hence the site "logo" with my name prominently featured. I wish I could change it, but with SEO it'd basically kill its reach if I did.

Are there any concepts you won't do?

Yes. Notably any that have creators who are bigots, horrible people, are definitely still alive and profiting off something they have / did by promoting or sharing it, are associated with, or even things I don't agree with morally. Big standouts are Jeepers Creepers and even ones I have done in the past but have effectively retired and never plan to update again like The Last of Us and Stranger Things.

Would you make an entire concept for commission?

I did it once more as a favor to a friend including power design, perk design, and icons for those. I can confidently say this is incredibly unlikely to ever happen again unless I really like the property or I figure out how much that work is worth charging for.

Have you ever worked with BHVR?

Nope. Never been under contract with them, never signed an NDA with them, nothing. I know some employees are aware of my work, but they're more than likely unable to acknowledge my work on a professional or official level from how I understand it.

Will you make more Dead by Daylight Concept videos?

My work with the Dead by Daylight Community Concept Team was collaborative and as much as I'd like to do spotlight videos again, they were very time consuming and ultimately the core members of the team had more priorities that needed to be dealt with. Maybe someday again, but it's not likely as life got in the way. For those who might speculate, we all still very much are friends and I'd be happy to work with them again.

How can I make concepts?

Use the Dead by Daylight Concept Resources I have available to use and any video or written guides I have available. Most of them go over the basic design and structure of concept creation that I use, but ultimately you can just write out an idea and that's good enough for sharing an idea you think would be really cool!

Can I use any of the concepts for my own video / concept / content?

Please ask me for permission directly before doing so. I don't mind letting others use my work, but I would prefer to be asked permission first rather than forgiveness later, especially when it might include work that should be credited to persons other than myself or things I have commissioned or paid for directly used without my own permission such as artwork and/or music.

SITE CHANGELOG

This public site changelog is in text format only and in basic summaries.

OCTOBER 2025

October 30th, 2025 — Siren Chapter Concept published, Ikuko Kifune and Kyoya Suda.
October 20th, 2025 — Scaling edits to help format parts of the site better on major pages as well as updating all perks on the site to the new graphic format with some balance updates / adjustments.

September 2025

September 4th, 2025 — Dexter Chapter Concept released to coincide with the Dexter: Resurrection finale, complete with custom music and a 3D key art render.

August 2025

August 28th, 2025 — S.C.P. Foundation Concept update featuring new icons for both The Keter and The Euclid as well as a new original Survivor. Custom image assets and 3D renders for all, including a model for the Survivor along with previews and an interactive lore website.

JULY 2025

July 15th, 2025 — Added some additional support for future changes / updates as well as a new navigation bar.

JUNE 2025

June 25th, 2025 — Liberated Cacophony Chapter Concept added.
June 19th, 2025 — Updated some visual assets for Mākere Rewi a bit earlier than planned to celebrate Matariki. Mānawatia a Matariki!
June 13th, 2025 — Bloodborne Concept release + updates / reworks to The Thing, The Candyman, and The Deadite.
June 6th, 2025 — Various older concepts are getting reworks/rebalances/quality of life improvements. Notably The Slasher and The Miner.

MAY 2025

May 13th, 2025 — IT Chapter concept update featuring updated icons and rebalancing. The music player also had all the non-retired DBDCCT tracks uploaded, with permission.
May 9th, 2025 — Darkest Dungeon concept was added and a new side-wide playlist feature was added to the footer.
May 5th, 2025 — Updated approximately 50% of all concept pages with finalized and new layout. Music players added to The Lich King and Sylvanas's pages.

April 2025

April 23rd, 2025 — Created new sections for Concept sorting and added new banners / banner heads to various areas, as well as the Archives section.
April 18th, 2025 — Fixed lore image display at the end of lore entries for Fallout concepts. Added the first batch of image updates for an aesthetic pass with the site, such as a logo for the Tome Archives section. Updated "tag" added to each Retired / Pending Update concept.
April 10th, 2025 — Various fixes to other pages and added Fallout concepts.

March 2025

March 29th, 2025 — Began updating the layout and formatting for various older concepts without the modern standard.
March 21st, 2025 — Warcraft concept release.
March 15th, 2025 — Added a navigation menu and made some tweaks to a couple pages. Updates to Death Stranding concepts are now available.

FEBRUARY 2025

February 24th, 2025 — Dead Space concept pages are now available.
February 13th, 2025 — Relaunch of "The Tyrant" concept page.
February 4th, 2025 — Aria "Sawbones" Vaughn and The Stalker concepts added, both from Deathgarden: Bloodharvest. Additional backend updates for future concept updates. Updated some site credits and links.

DECEMBER 2024

December 28th, 2024 — Added some support on the backend for early 2025 additions and updated some concept preview banners.

NOVEMBER 2024

November 26th, 2024 — Several concepts temporarily excluded from the site amid updates and reworks. Fixed an error with Helen Lyle's banner not being listed on the License Concepts page. Chapter Concept Archive Collection #4: Haunted was released. Multiple pages were given an experimental layout update due to go site-wide in early 2025. Public site changelog was added for accessibility and tracking updates / the history of updates more easily.

Sorted by IP / License the character(s) and/or concept is based on and arranged alphabetically in columns, excluding Retired concepts.
If some concepts on this list are inaccessible, it is because they are undergoing an update and/or have only been announced for the future.

A QUIET PLACE

AMNESIA

BALDUR'S GATE 3

BILL & TED'S EXCELLENT ADVENTURE

BIOSHOCK

BLOODBORNE

CANDYMAN

DARKEST DUNGEON

DARK SOULS

DEAD SPACE

DEATH STRANDING

DEATHGARDEN: BLOODHARVEST

DOCTOR WHO

DEXTER

EVIL DEAD FRANCHISE

FALLOUT

FEAR & HUNGER

FLESH AND BLOOD

FRIDAY THE 13TH SERIES

HALF LIFE

HOTLINE MIAMI

MAGIC: THE GATHERING

MALIGNANT

OUTLAST

PREDATOR

PREY

RESIDENT EVIL

S.C.P. FOUNDATION

SIGNALIS

SIREN

SLENDERMAN MYTHOS

THE EVIL WITHIN

THE LORD OF THE RINGS

THE TERMINATOR

THE THING

TREVOR HENDERSON

UNTIL DAWN

WARCRAFT

X TRILOGY

All Concepts regardless of category, franchise/IP, and includes Retired concepts
(Sorted by newest to oldest)

CONCEPT BANNER VISUAL REFERENCE

2025

2024

2023

2022

2021

2020

Chapter Concepts of my own creation and writing, featuring original characters and original artwork of them made by myself and/or various artists.If you enjoy these original works and efforts, consider supporting my work!

Examine the past, learn from the athletes of old, and uncover the origin of violence believed once integral to gladiator culture. With every turn of a page, history shifts, pulling away the mask to reveal a darker truth beneath the surface, an obsession and admiration that may push one to go too far and risk too much.

VIEW FULL KEYART

How cruel a world must be, to harbor such violence to someone who only sought the pursuit of kindness and success, the happiness of family and friends. To hate them is to inflict suffering, in marks far deeper than flesh, in wounds more grievous than the mind could ever possibly handle on its own.

In solidarity, many band together to brave the harsh realities that they must face. Through kindness, cooperation, and a willingness to help, great things can be achieved. Kindness, however, will not stop the powers that enforce themselves over the unfortunate. This is a battle that is often lost, time, and time again, rendering community, allyship, and hope apart.

VIEW FULL KEYART

The world gives into a malignant flesh that overtakes, one that consumes, and reconstitutes old ways into the new, for better or for worse. Push against the forces of power, resist the dominion of the oppressor, and find freedom in that union with strangers and bind your abilities together so that no one else must endure the same hardship or challenges. Lead the way forward to an outspoken future.

Based on the S.C.P. Foundation, uncover a deeper connection with not just any anomalous object, but something with a direct connection to the Entity. A small chip in the veil of reality is enough to shatter the illusion of safety or true understanding, revealing both horrifying truths and the futile attempts to understand.

VIEW FULL KEYART

These concepts were created alongside other creators and/or groups in the design or development process and have been posted with permission.
Creators are listed alphabetically, and includes Retired concepts
(Sorted by newest to oldest)

DEAD BY DAYLIGHT COMMUNITY CONCEPT TEAM

DESIGNING W/ COMMUNITY

PIXEL BUSH

Below are all Tome Collections in order of release date and characters featured within (oldest to newest).

DBD CONCEPT RESOURCES

Below are a series of resources available to everyone and anyone to make their own content for blogs, artwork, original characters, or video content.
If you have any questions or issues with the content here, you can reach me at my community Discord server or on my contact page on my website here.If you enjoy using these, please consider throwing a small donation on Ko-Fi or pledge to my Patreon!

JOIN THE COMMUNITY!

Join my DBD Concept Community on Discord to get updates on new resources, share ideas, see work in progress projects, and get feedback from others as well as occasional design jams to test and challenge concept designers!

Discord

MAIN RESOURCES

Full Google Drive Folder
^{Contains everything from WheatDraws' Concept resources in one single place.}
Video Guide Playlist
^{Video guides on how to use some of WheatDraws' templates and files.}
GIMP - Image Manipulation Program
^{Free image editing program . Recommended used with WheatDraws' templates.}

WRITTEN DESIGN

WheatDraws' Concept Design Doc Template
^{A custom design document I made and use for my own concepts in its early stages.}
WheatDraws' Guide and Tutorial to Concept Creation & Formatting
^{A written PDF going over my own insights and a guide to going from an idea, to a first draft, to a cleaned up design to present to others.}

VISUAL DESIGN

Generic Universal Icon Library
^{Just as the name says, free-to-use Generic Universal Icons that are available for everyone to use that I have created for my own concepts and/or projects.}
Icon Artwork Assets
^{Images to create icons with just editing, no drawing required.}
Icon Type Assets
^{Images for icon rarities and types, such as Powers, Add-ons, Offerings/Favors, and Perks.}
Survivor & Killer Portrait Assets
^{Images and templates for making Killer & Survivor portraits.}
Text Box Graphic Assets
^{Images and templates for Text Box recreation.}
Free Game Icons / Symbols For Game Development
^{Great for placeholders and any independent developers / designers of any kind for games}

CONCEPT ARCHIVE

WheatDraws' Complete Concept Archive
^{A complete Google Drive of all files that are related to Chapter Concepts I've created on this very site, including some older archived image assets and any additional media that I can distribute.}Please read the README text file in the folder for any disclaimers or stipulations to using any of the content within.If you have any questions, please reach out to me directly.

THIS CONCEPT FEATURES CUSTOM MUSIC. FIND IT IN THE MUSIC PLAYER AT THE BOTTOM OF THIS WEBPAGE.

The first thing Janus awoke to was the firing of senses, abruptly stirred from a drug-induced slumber. A bright light overhead stared back like the sun into his own eyes as he began to move, struggling against tightly-fitted plastics binding him to the cold table. Walls of plastic sheets, illuminated by sterile light. It came with its own sanitized silence that was only broken by the sound of a man nearby, dressed from head-to-toe in rubber and sanitized supply.

"Hello, Janus Ruth."

Straining his eyes, he focused on the man, seeing the sharp knife in hand. Behind him, photos of familiar faces with unfamiliar emotions, smiling and happy.

"What the hell am I doing here?" Janus struggled, finding no means of leverage or liberation. He could feel the wrappings against his bare body, nude and exposed, vulnerable to this lone actor. "Let me out!"

"You are strange," The man laughed, an uncomfortable smirk. Despite the light in the room, there was none in the reflection of those grim eyes. "Acting as if rituals like these are... concerning." He walked, pacing past the row of photos. Bodies dumped in Miami's abandoned buildings, only uncovered in the news by urban explorers. Sent shockwaves throughout the local chapter, causing Janus to make rather risky decisions to find the right person. The stranger spoke again, standing alongside the table and looking down with that knife in hand, its metal gleaming in the light. "Well, maybe for you, now that you're on the other side..."

Janus winced, screaming sharply as the blade cut into his right cheek, hissing as the freak delicately plucked a bead of blood, placing it carefully on a glass slide. The red dot of crimson shined through into his own vision, a violent and cruel sun staring him down in between his gaze and the vision of a true psychopath.

"Whatever it is that you want," He panicked, pleading. "We can get it for you. You don't understand the means we have!" The shouting echoed, even through the plastic. A closer look revealed the tagged walls of concrete through layers of plastic. An uncomfortably familiar location, the table placed just over a previous sacrifice the Black Vale had done within the previous month. "Money! Positions of power!" A laugh escaped him, almost hysterical as the man put away the blood slide. "Purpose!" He shouted again, a true enthusiasm escaping his lips.

His head turned, walking back to the table with a deep inhale. "My purpose? I kill people, like you." He forced his face toward the wall of photos. More than Janus even realized he knew at first. "Each of them, you ripped from their families for your desire for death. Dangerous, harmful sacrifices to a God who cannot spare you from my Code." He hissed, releasing Janus's head. "I know what I am. Harry gave me my Code and my purpose." He brandished a larger knife, immaculate and clean in his gloved grip. He looked upon it like a divine relic, something Janus knew all too well. He could feel it, the shift of shadows on the back of his neck. Whatever the man said next didn't matter. He closed his eyes and smiled, awaiting the final moments, but among the dark whispers heard his killer's name.

Dexter Morgan.

He raised the knife in two hands, plunging it directly into the heart of Janus, filling the clear plastic with blood almost instantly.

. . .

With the body dealt with, carefully taken apart into pieces, a text sent to a loved one for tomorrow's dinner plans, Dexter began to put away what remains of Janus, the leader of an unknown cult on the rise in Miami. There was more to find out, but that would be up to Miami Metro Police to discover.

Dexter looked to his roll of knives to put them away into his bag, only to find them missing. Confused, he looked around, the room still and quiet. That was, until he saw the silhouette and shape of a person through the plastic. Carefully, he slowly rose to his feet, ready to strike, but noticed another to the left of it. Tall and imposing... Then he noticed more. They lined the sheets of plastic from the outside, replacing the familiar walls Dexter had painstakingly inspected for evidence before.

An unfamiliar darkness lurked beyond the kill room itself, one Dexter recognized, but didn't know yet. He recognized in others a Dark Passenger, but this was... larger. It filled not just the space beyond, but could not find the shape of a man like he had seen it before. So large, so immense, he could hear it whisper beyond the flaps of the plastic, an orange, almost alien glow just beyond.

Cautiously, Dexter moved forward, toward the darkness, unaware that his dinner plans with Rita would need to be postponed.

dexterlore

extra media

CONCEPT MUSIC VIDEO
CHAPTER KEY ART

DEV NOTES

First Published: September 4th, 2025
Last Updated: September 4th, 2025

Familiar Presence is intended as an inverse Terror Radius for Dexter, allowing him to play directly with a base-line Killer mechanic.
Sedative Dosage is meant to be a strategy Survivor perk, intended to be used cleverly and in cooperation with others or by being predictive and hiding around corners or out of sight to deliver a crippling, slowing dose.

CREDITS

All music tracks for this concept were commissioned by myself and created by ScooteyBootey.
All references to Dexter Morgan and usage of other such characters and names belong to their respective owners.
Chapter concepts key art render was created by Roman Noodles for use by me.
Perk, power, and add-on icons as well as their descriptions, lore sections and effects were created by WheatDraws using the respective license and reference material.
Other image assets, such as icon backgrounds, portrait backgrounds and other such assets from Dead by Daylight belong to Behaviour Interactive.

Kyoya exhaled, pulling off his headset with a single hand as it tugged on his ear from the other side, resting around his neck with the faint sound of metal music screaming out of the padded speakers. He looked around, exhausted, but... He was just here, wasn't he? He took out all those monsters, the Shibito, and now he--

The sword he held in his grip was gone. Suddenly, his confidence was cleaved in two. He scattered around, his eyes darting amongst the grass of the underworld village, trying to find anything to defend himself with, coming up empty handed.

Shit, this wasn't going to work...

Just as he saw the uncanny face of a woman lunge toward him, stumbling and staggering with bloodied eyes and a face that couldn't decide if it was weeping or laughing, he desperately flung the first thing available to him to knock its trajectory over: his music.

The headset and music player attached crashed into the monster, sending it tumbling into a shallow, muddy puddle as Kyoya made his escape, rushing forward down the muddy forest path.

Months spent in this purgatory, slaying creatures, defending what he could, all in the memory of his friends and what he saw upon the mountain, believing he was saving the world. A real hero...

But now, he wasn't so sure. Even the endless woods started to look unfamiliar. The moss and lichen that grew was different too, and the fog became less suffocating and more... dense. Like a veil, blocking and impeding travel.

By the time Kyoya found himself somewhere near or even defensible, he thought maybe he had actually escaped! He could go home, or warn someone, or post everything he found online! But... all he found was a dingy campfire that crackled, the rainy forest now dry. The dirt around the fire had dozens of footprints leaving its mark in the trampled ground, and all he could think of was who else had been stranded here with him.

Unaware of the purgatory he was been whisked into from the previous, Kyoya took up a rock from the edge of the fire, gripping it in his hand tightly, and ventured off into the Entity's realm with as much courage as he could muster.

extra media

DEV NOTES

First Published: October 25th, 2025
Last Updated: October 25th, 2025

CREDITS

All reference depicting and using Siren / Forbidden Siren series belongs to their rightful owners.
Perk, power, and add-on icons as well as their descriptions, lore sections and effects were created by WheatDraws using the respective license and reference material.
Other image assets, such as icon backgrounds, portrait backgrounds and other such assets from Dead by Daylight belong to Behaviour Interactive.

Ikuko Kifune thought it was over, the nightmare of the island at last ended. She could still feel the foul power of that item in her grip, her ally Mamoru Itsuki at her side, and the monstrous shape above... Memories fading into other memories. Something was... off.

She heard him awake next to her as she stirred, a bit weakened, but she could swear she felt his hand on her face. Like a sharp jolt of pain, she had only a flash of the sunlight hit her eyes as she awoke, only for it to be immediately replaced by the orange heat of a strange campfire in front of her.

"Mamoru?" She called out, looking around desperately.

Flashes again, an orange sunrise, the shape of her friend looking away from her. Screams. Countless screams...

She winced, clutching her head as her vision granted her sight once more, seeing through layered brush and branches, only to witness the shape of herself reeling in this very moment, a star of otherworldly power linking her mind with that sympathetic sight of hers.

She gasped, turning to face what she looked through, finding nothing staring back. Her heart raced, unsure of where she was or how she arrived, but still feeling the warmth of a far off sunrise.

She didn't feel like she was still there, in that underworld, but some part of her knew... She wasn't home either.

She looked into the flames, swallowing her fear, and seeing that sunrise again. She could feel herself smiling, but did not move. What a beautiful sight, she thought, unaware of how little control she had of anything at all, suppressed by one evil force and ensnared by another.

A dark feeling sank in her stomach, and again, she felt that overwhelming pain of her sight take over. Not just one, but dozens of them all surrounded her.

She was in a nightmare.

extra media

DEV NOTES

First Published: October 25th, 2025
Last Updated: October 25th, 2025

CREDITS

All reference depicting and using Siren / Forbidden Siren series belongs to their rightful owners.
Perk, power, and add-on icons as well as their descriptions, lore sections and effects were created by WheatDraws using the respective license and reference material.
Other image assets, such as icon backgrounds, portrait backgrounds and other such assets from Dead by Daylight belong to Behaviour Interactive.

THIS CONCEPT FEATURES CUSTOM MUSIC. FIND IT IN THE MUSIC PLAYER AT THE BOTTOM OF THIS WEBPAGE.

Lucía grew up in the pacific northwest with a love for nature, for life, and the surrounding world. She saw the beautiful landscapes on many great hikes and rafting down the Columbia River with both her parents and her friends. She made quick friends with a neighborhood girl named Julia, who she went on frequent hikes with during the weekend away from school or during the summer. Julia’s family were part of the Wenatchi-P’squosa indigenous people, having more cultural knowledge of the surrounding land and state itself, which Lucía appreciated all the more to know such stories that paired with her favorite places and was invited to see the rich cultures of tribes that still were within the Pacific Northwest, practicing actively and fostering community.

While on a hike up Two Bears with Julia during the summer after graduation from high school, Lucía had made it an effort to find a stone to collect, something to remember Washington by with her best friend as she planned to move across the country to pursue her growing interest for mineralogy. Any old stone would work, but she spotted something strange near an obscured part of the hiking trail, a small glass-like chip just slightly bigger than her thumb and stranger than anything she had ever seen. She decided it would be what she keeps with her, something a little strange but special just like her home. The good times wouldn’t last, however. On their way back down the trail, a loose ledge had given out from under Julia, causing her to plummet off the side. Lucía reached out in a panic to grab at her arm, but it wasn’t enough. In the suddenness of the event, they both pulled each other down into a rocky face, bodies colliding into harsh stone from a steep drop.

Lucía woke up in hospital long after, recovered from her wounds, but her head was in immense pain. Once she was conscious, she learned a horrible truth: Her friend had died from the fall due to head trauma and blood loss. It was nearly an hour before anyone found the both of them, but Lucía somehow survived a similar injury despite it all, even recovering almost completely in a week’s time of rest. Lucía was devastated and heartbroken, feeling guilt and remorse for the accident, unable to leave home just yet. She stayed long enough to make sure she helped volunteer to maintain the trails she travelled for years, ensuring no one else would suffer a loss like she did.

Within the year, Lucía was approached by curious individuals, saying they worked for a branch of the U.S. government, asking her name and inquiring about her profession. Lucía had become an amateur mineralogist with community college under her belt instead of the extensive education she had originally planned for a future career, and these people were very aware of that. Cautious, she didn’t trust them, but they clearly knew about her online postings and research she published, specifically interested in the glass stone she kept for all those years. She asked for time to consider the position they offered, acting as a private researcher at a facility they couldn’t disclose due to the nature of the work. She considered her friend Julia, her family, and realized this opportunity wouldn’t take her far from home as it was located only a few hours away from her home. With a deep breath, Lucía picked up the phone and looked at the business card she was handed, seeing the words “Survey. Cultivate. Protect.” on its face reassuring her as she would work towards bettering and healing the environment from undiscovered dangers. Unaware of their ulterior motives, Lucía joined the ranks of the S.C.P. Foundation as a consultant researcher on the glass stone now classified as “The Glass Chip” for its size and material.

For years, Lucía worked at a secret facility within the state at Site ███, taking quickly to the processes and making friends with others as curious as they were. The work was long, tedious, but studying everything about the immediate world around them. Stone, mineral, flora, fauna, and all similar manner of things. She was the lead on The Glass Chip’s study, which to her, was always the most curious thing in the Foundation’s possession. Her faith in their name and message was strong, to secure and contain the precious secrets of the world and yet undiscovered parts of nature and protect it from those that would exploit it.

Yet, as years passed, Lucía’s physical health wore on, deteriorated, and her mental following with consistent migraines days apart. Thankfully the staff helped check in on her, even bringing in an on-site therapist, but she often felt more like a burden than anything as time went on. She was getting nightmares, dreams she hadn’t had since her accident with Julia. Pain, suffering, and the warmth of her own blood washing over her skin. She spoke these concerns to the on-site doctors and they helped to keep her head on straight and give her any necessary medication for her ailments. Lucía didn’t think much else of it other than maybe burnout, so she pushed onward despite it all.

One day, she sat in the small cafeteria, most of the other researchers and scientists at other tables nearby, filling the room with roughly twenty of her on-site friends. It was always calm, not much excitement happens when discussing environmental and geographic reports, but just as she was to take a drink of her coffee, her arm jerked in panic as the loud sirens howled in the room, causing everyone to look up in horror, some looking to Lucía as she stumbled out of her chair, spilled coffee now on her coat. The sound of screeching chairs and clattering trays filled the room, many of her coworkers rushed away down halls, some crowded the north wall of the cafeteria, pounding on it, and a few doctors approached her cautiously.

“What’s going on?” Lucía panicked, unaware of any reason or need for such an alarm while everyone else moved as if trained and practiced. “Did something happen?”

She saw restraints pulled out from under the coat of her friend. Her eyes went wide, horrified at the sight as she could see the woman next to them already reaching for their own restraints while approaching, cornering her like an animal. Lucía backed away, only able to glimpse a false wall in the cafeteria open up, soldiers in combat armor emerging from it and revealing the pale white hallway behind it. A deeper part of the complex, something she swears she never had seen before, but in the back of her mind it felt far too familiar.

“What the hell is going on?!” She screamed, bracing against the wall she was backed into as the others lunged at her, shouting to subdue and secure her when a loud scream erupted from the crowding researchers, scattering as something she couldn’t make out rampaged around them. Gunfire rang out, and stray shots crippled and hit her friends-turned-assailants. She too was hit in the thigh, crashing down to the ground.

She was sobbing, quivering as she saw her lab coat covered in crimson blood, a small barrier of her colleague’s bodies creating a wall between her and the ongoing carnage. She heard shouting over all the noise just as she saw one of the researchers who clearly was bleeding out quickly from his wounds, weakly holding his taser and instead dropping it with a clatter.

He looked weakly at her, grabbing at her wrist as he gurgled blood. “Lu, Don’t look–” Like a rotten fruit getting crushed, a massive pale hand and set of claws flattened his skull, pulling everything it could out from whatever natural orifice existed. Lucía, horrified, stared at the once-complete head of her friend in horror as his ejected eye rolled towards her leg. Paralyzed, she couldn’t look away, even as the pale giant howled and screamed, leaving to attack who was left and scrambling.

The screaming continued in the cafeteria, echoed by the sirens as a voice repeated the same words over and over.

“CONTAINMENT BREACH. SEEK SHELTER. CONTAINMENT BREACH.”

She couldn’t bear to look up, she didn’t know what to do. Her chest hurt, everything… hurt. She felt the wetness of her tears on her face. It must’ve been minutes she was paralyzed with fear when the screaming died down, before she could bring herself to crawl across the bloody floor of the room, struggling to find anywhere to look where she didn’t find a bloody face of someone she cared about.

She moved nearly four meters before she heard crying. Sobbing that wasn’t her own. Her gaze looked toward it, and across the room… A face. Gaunt, pale, and belonging to that giant. It wept, covered in blood, hands dripping in violent gore and visceral carnage. She couldn’t even get a word out before it howled and screamed at her, barreling through the tables and chairs of the room toward her. The death was near instant, and blackness hit her vision before any pain registered, unaware she had lived this pain many times before.

lorelucia

CHARACTERS FEATURED IN THIS TOME

BREACH TOME COSMETIC - "FIRST ROUND OF TESTING"

SCP-████-1

Sucking in air painfully, Lucía coughing and sputtering with tremors throughout her body and its muscles. She was pressed into a cratered part of the floor, her ribs sore and head pounding. What happened? She was attacked and–

She looked around, seeing the still-remaining carnage in the cafeteria. The sirens repeated those same words still.

“CONTAINMENT BREACH. SEEK SHELTER. CONTAINMENT BREACH.”

Lucía stumbled up to her feet, looking at herself, unwounded and – unwounded? Her thigh, the pants had a hole from the bullet that hit her prior, but the skin that was not just exposed, but intact and perfect. Tears erupted from her eyes again, wetting her face as she was unable to comprehend what was going on, only seeing the flashes of images that were of her friends and colleagues, butchered and slain. She looked up for only a moment, forcing herself to look away as the cafeteria was stained red with the carnage caused by the pale monstrosity that raged through the room what seemed like moments before.

Lucía made her way slowly and hesitantly towards the one place she knew had some sort of advanced security measures, the place she had worked for most of her time within the Foundation: The Glass Chip’s chamber.

Her mind pounded, pulsing with burning heat as she staggered down the hallway, feeling some sort of otherworldly bond with the object, more than ever now. As she wandered closer, she heard the sound of something around the corner, the shadow of something cast along the walls like a looming specter. In a panic, she quickly scrambled into a side room, a previously locked record room now left ajar and in a mess. She shut the door with a soft click, tucking herself out of sight and holding her breath. In the minutes-long wait of whatever was outside passing by, she spotted a file on the table nearby that caught her eye. The records were obviously raided, someone pulled out tons of documents, but not everything.

Standing up slowly, she looked upon previously never seen photos of the Glass Chip itself with a redacted marker of “SCP-████”, and pictures of her in… horrifying states. Dead, mangled, and at the mercy of whatever monstrous or strange objects nearby herself. Trembling, bloody hands worked through the paper with horror as she came across one of the oldest reports among the file.

Familiar names of both friends and colleagues all signed off on these, observation reports on her day-to-day, reporting on post-mortem events labeled by date and number, creatures and means of demise or death, or incidents of supposed “realizations” she doesn’t remember having. Horrifyingly, each one always includes administering a memory-altering sedative after body recovery. How many times has this happened? Who was she to these people?

“Doctor ████████ believes access to Lucía Sofia Santos (referred to as SCP-████-1 hereafter) is key and required to studying the effects of SCP-████’s reconstitution and resurrection of its bonded entity. Maintaining her mental and physical consistency is important to keep an illusion of normalcy so we can both utilize and study what SCP-████ is allowing her functional ‘immortality’. Since her first recorded interaction with SCP-████ and discovery by the Foundation when she arrived at █████████ Hospital, she has made miraculous recovery from many ailments, more than anyone reasonably would have in human record.”

Lucía reads on in horror and stunned silence, nearly a decade of her work, all as a sacrificial lamb to these people. Even worse, it wasn’t the first time she found out.

“SCP-████-1 had attempted to destroy SCP-████ with a tooltaken from the geode department’s supplies. SCP-████-1 was apprehended and sedated, but not before SCP-████ was able to make a notable scar and damage in the surface of it, meaning it is susceptible to destruction. With this discovery and risk, no harsh or brutal tools are no longer allowed within the secured area for SCP-████ and SCP-████-1 must always be accompanied by personnel with sedatives and a kill switch for SCP-████-1.”

Lucía didn’t leave the record room. She could rot there and not know it, maybe she’d come back. Defeated, she sobbed as quietly as she could, miserable and pained as she held in her tight grip years of notes about her, invading her life as a person, every interaction or friendship she had a ploy to see how she breathed or moved. She didn’t even know how to leave this place anymore if that pale monster was still on the loose, or if something else lurked in the halls. She sniffled, wiping tears and snot from her face. She laughed a little, thinking about how ridiculous it was, wondering just how insane she would sound if she managed to escape, to tell someone about this. If she could be free of–

She paused. There was the howling again, out in the halls. She looked back over a passage she skimmed over, a specific report about a theoretical interaction she would have with something called “SCP-096” with a similar description to the monster, out of fear it would “create an endless loop” for someone with resurrection if she was exposed to seeing its face. She remembered the few moments before her death in the cafeteria, looking up and witnessing a horrifying, gaunt face scream at her. It was burned into her mind, and if this was right…

She left the records and slowly made it to the door, opening it gently and looking past it as the lithe and gaunt form crashed into the wall while making a turn down the Foundation’s halls, rushing straight toward her. Desperately, she enacted the only plan she had left, the only thing in her mind: The Glass Chip. If she was to be not pecked and ripped apart like Prometheus for all time, she could at least break the thing causing it..

Like a wild chase, running from the unleashed creature, she turned the tight corridors, causing the monster to lose distance as it rapidly crashed into anything in its way, Lucía taking any advantage she could get as she neared the familiar holding chamber for The Glass Chip itself.

Her blood-dried fingers pecked into the access pad as the facility alarms continued to scream in time with the monster at her heel, she barely managed to open the chamber just as the creature breached through the observation window itself. With a large swipe, its bloodied hands crashed into Lucía just as she clasped this warm, iridescent glass chip in her hand. She could feel that bond sapping away at what hope she had left, her palm cutting into its jagged edges as she held it to her head.

In her prayer, she made her head a target, putting that glass chip between her and the monster. The moment it made contact, blackness filled her vision again, but the last thing she heard was the sound of glass cracking, but soon after… The darkness was revealed as a dense fog.

Lucía didn’t move from the laid-out spot she had on the ground, looking up at a void-like sky above. She couldn’t care if this was another purgatory or hell or bring herself to. She could only weep, feeling the sensations of The Glass Chip itself all around her now like one feels the rush of blood from their own heart.

extra media

CHAPTER KEY ART
CONCEPT MUSIC VIDEO
INTERACTIVE LORE TEASER
LUCIA CONCEPT ART #1
LUCIA CONCEPT ART #2
LUCIA MODEL PROGRESS #1
LUCIA MODEL PROGRESS #2
LUCIA MODEL PROGRESS #3
LUCIA MODEL PROGRESS #4
BADGE ID PHOTO
PROMO RENDER

DEV NOTES

First Published: August 28th, 2025
Last Updated: August 28th, 2025

Lucía was a Survivor I wanted to make for SCP for a while, though wasn't able to achieve the lore expansion I wanted to at the time. With the update to SCP concept including new base lore and a tome, I felt it would be a great time to include an original character to help include the world of SCP I wanted to set up for this concept for those unfamiliar.
Lucía is a spin on the idea of "What if someone connected to the Entity in some way still got to 'live forever'?" So with the help of the Foundation finding out about her abilities, they essentially trap her to help with their own tests, as well as poor oversight and management leading to the final events in the lore of each character that causes the Entity to take all three in the end by exposing a bit too much of the Entity's realm in the aftermath of Lucía's tome.

CREDITS

All music tracks for this concept were commissioned by myself and created by ScooteyBootey.
All reference depicting and using any SCP Foundation-related material is under CC-BY-SA. To use my own work in reference to the SCP related material on this website, please credit me appropriately. For the credits of all mentioned and referenced SCP articles and creations, they are listed at the bottom of the Credits section.
3D models of "SCP-049" and "SCP-106" were created by Aruspice, Shakles, and PixelPuffin, which were released to the public for use.
3D model of Lucía Santos was created by Roman Noodles for use by me.
Portrait renders made by Roman Noodles for use by me.
This concept was originally drafted and completed in collaboration with the Dead by Daylight Community Concept Team and originally posted as a video on the Rarithlynx YouTube channel.
Perk, power, and add-on icons as well as their descriptions, lore sections and effects were created by WheatDraws using the respective license and reference material.
Other image assets, such as icon backgrounds, portrait backgrounds and other such assets from Dead by Daylight belong to Behaviour Interactive.

"SCP-106" by Dr Gears, from the SCP Wiki. Source: https://scpwiki.com/scp-106. Licensed under CC-BY-SA.

"SCP-049" by Gabriel Jade, rewritten by djkaktus & Gabriel Jade, from the SCP Wiki. Source: https://scpwiki.com/scp-049. Licensed under CC-BY-SA.

"spikebrennan's proposal" by spikebrennan, from the SCP Wiki. Source: https://scpwiki.com/spikebrennan-s-proposal. Licensed under CC-BY-SA.

"Dr Clef's Proposal" by DrClef, from the SCP Wiki. Source: https://scpwiki.com/dr-clef-s-proposal. Licensed under CC-BY-SA.

"SCP-426" by Flah, from the SCP Wiki. Source: https://scpwiki.com/scp-426. Licensed under CC-BY-SA.

"SCP-085" by FritzWillie, from the SCP Wiki. Source: https://scpwiki.com/scp-085. Licensed under CC-BY-SA.

"SCP-1733" by bbaztek, from the SCP Wiki. Source: https://scpwiki.com/scp-1733. Licensed under CC-BY-SA.

"SCP-1171" by DrEverettMann, from the SCP Wiki. Source: https://scpwiki.com/scp-1171. Licensed under CC-BY-SA.

"SCP-5031" by PeppersGhost, from the SCP Wiki. Source: https://scpwiki.com/scp-5031. Licensed under CC-BY-SA.

"SCP-348" by Zyn, from the SCP Wiki. Source: https://scpwiki.com/scp-348. Licensed under CC-BY-SA.

"SCP-500" by far2, from the SCP Wiki. Source: https://scpwiki.com/scp-500. Licensed under CC-BY-SA.

"SCP-093" by Unknown author, rewritten by NekoChris, from the SCP Wiki. Source: https://scpwiki.com/scp-093. Licensed under CC-BY-SA.

"SCP-1981" by Digiwizzard, from the SCP Wiki. Source: https://scpwiki.com/scp-1981. Licensed under CC-BY-SA.

"SCP-1879" by marslifeform, from the SCP Wiki. Source: https://scpwiki.com/scp-1879. Licensed under CC-BY-SA.

"SCP-662" by Rick Revelry, from the SCP Wiki. Source: https://scpwiki.com/scp-662. Licensed under CC-BY-SA.

"SCP-2316" by djkaktus, from the SCP Wiki. Source: https://scpwiki.com/scp-2316. Licensed under CC-BY-SA.

"SCP-294" by Arcibi, from the SCP Wiki. Source: https://scpwiki.com/scp-294. Licensed under CC-BY-SA.

"SCP-____-J" by Communism will win, from the SCP Wiki. Source: https://scpwiki.com/scp-j. Licensed under CC-BY-SA.

"SCP-178" by 91stCataclysm, from the SCP Wiki. Source: https://scpwiki.com/scp-178. Licensed under CC-BY-SA.

"SCP-990" by Dave Rapp, from the SCP Wiki. Source: https://scpwiki.com/scp-990. Licensed under CC-BY-SA.

"SCP-1048" by trennerdios, from the SCP Wiki. Source: https://scpwiki.com/scp-1048. Licensed under CC-BY-SA.

"SCP-1471" by LurkD, from the SCP Wiki. Source: https://scpwiki.com/scp-1471. Licensed under CC-BY-SA.

"SCP-2137" by Max Landis, from the SCP Wiki. Source: https://scpwiki.com/scp-2137. Licensed under CC-BY-SA.

"SCP-1762" by OZ Ouroboros, from the SCP Wiki. Source: https://scpwiki.com/scp-1762. Licensed under CC-BY-SA.

"SCP-1437" by Tanhony, from the SCP Wiki. Source: https://scpwiki.com/scp-1437. Licensed under CC-BY-SA.

"SCP-105" by thedeadlymoose, Dantensen, and DrClef, from the SCP Wiki. Source: https://scpwiki.com/scp-105. Licensed under CC-BY-SA.

"SCP-610" by NekoChris, from the SCP Wiki. Source: https://scpwiki.com/scp-610. Licensed under CC-BY-SA.

"SCP-1833" by Anonymous, from the SCP Wiki. Source: https://scpwiki.com/scp-1833. Licensed under CC-BY-SA.

"SCP-895" by Aelanna, from the SCP Wiki. Source: https://scpwiki.com/scp-895. Licensed under CC-BY-SA.

"SCP-096" by Dr Dan, from the SCP Wiki. Source: https://scpwiki.com/scp-096. Licensed under CC-BY-SA.

"SCP-173" by Moto42, from the SCP Wiki. Source: https://scpwiki.com/scp-173. Licensed under CC-BY-SA.

In their youth, Terry struggled to fit into their family, or at least live to the expectations set ahead of them, but even more so within their local community. It seemed they could never be exactly what the world wanted, or even expected from their behavior or interests. The only person in their life that seemed to take effort and making them a bit more comfortable, even if they didn’t understand it, was Terry’s older brother Will. Will was kind, and when Terry couldn’t take it anymore, helped in getting them out of a dangerous situation at home.

Will drove Terry to the bus station in the city, in the dead of night, and helped carry their bags. Terry was nervous, still unsure, but Will ensured them that it was something they needed to do. Even if he couldn’t be there for his little sibling, he wanted to make sure they had a good shot at a fair life. With the hundred bucks in spare bills saved up, Will handed it to Terry and wished them well, saying he’d wait for any letter or update on what they’re up to in the big leagues. Terry, nervously cramming crumpled bills into their pocket, asked how he would even know if it was them sending the letter as Terry was still transitioning into a new life, a new identity. Will shrugged his shoulders, casually, just saying that they always looked more like a ‘Terry’ to him. With that, Will drove home to deal with his parents, leaving Terry to face their future as a young adult, heart beating heavy as a drum, displacing any fear in their heart with courage from Will’s own belief in them.

Years later, Terry fully embraced themselves into the growing punk music scene of the big cities along the east coast, including finding more comfort in their identity and learning about queer culture and history while fighting back against those who oppressed and pushed back against who they were deep down. Never had they felt more alive, at home, or right in the world.

Terry had met back with their brother multiple times since, exchanging letters, phone calls, and reconnecting despite how far they were from each other now. Terry managed to score tickets to a local punk band, one that Terry had seen and met their first month out on the coast after leaving him, and intended to show Will their work, but disaster struck when the anti-establishment performance was abruptly stopped by a disturbance of police at the front door. People jeered, shouted, and scattered as chaos ensued, Terry guiding their brother out safely and showing just how difficult it was to live a free life in America the way they did. As they evaded pursuit through an abandoned apartment complex, Terry led the way, only looking back and finding no one behind them. Confused, everything was not how it was before. The building stretched out impossibly, layers of fog delving down lengths of the hall and out of previously not open doorways.

Something was… off.

Terry called out to Will, terrified. Then they walked out to where there should be the alley, but instead found… something else. Forest, proper forest and woods, not just a park. Where the hell were they? Terry’s heart raced, beating heavy like a drum, reliving that night at the bus station again. Will was no longer in sight, and Terry had no idea what to do next.

They took a deep breath, steadying themself as best they can, looking outward toward a distant campfire. Their heart once again filled with not just courage, but determination to find Will.

links & media

LIBERATED CACOPHONY CONCEPT ART

dev notes

Terry Mitchell was written with the growing punk scene and overlap with the queer scene of the United States in the 1970's and how punk music was almost entirely founded by black musicians and within the culture itself.
Terry Mitchell is non-binary and uses they/them pronouns.
While writing the final drafts of Terry Mitchell's lore, Death's "For the Whole World To See" was a frequent listen.

credits

The characters "Terry Mitchell" and "The Amalgam" as well as their concept art were created by WheatDraws.
Perk, power, and add-on icons as well as their descriptions, lore sections and effects were created by WheatDraws.
Other image assets, such as icon backgrounds, portrait backgrounds and other such assets from Dead by Daylight belong to Behaviour Interactive.

In stories long lost to time, a strange isle appeared along coasts all along the world. Its origin and purpose, unknown, but upon its soil waited a parasite of malignant intent. As new arrivals washed upon its shore, stranded, taken along the isle’s strange path and wanderings around the world, it became a city of lost knowledge and arcana with an avatar of flesh demanding fealty and tribute. Those who did not, or who had nothing else to give, would surrender themselves, becoming absorbed into a grotesque, monstrous form.

Decades of this phenomena occurred, unknown to the greater world and suspending itself in time as the avatar of flesh steadily grew in power and influence, its own interpreter speaking on its behalf to the city now formed upon the isle as it created worship in its image. The avatar of flesh was gracious, it cultivated fertile earth, and in turn, those who lived would give themselves to the curator of this isle, to expand its nightmarish reach.

It all changed when one day, a stranger priest washed ashore through the dense fog around the isle, shipwrecked and found by a fisherman who brought her to safety. The stranger priest awoke knowing she only went to travel outward to a great energy she could feel at sea, bringing medicines and prayers for such power not knowing what it truly was. The fisherman spoke, saying she was stranded, and must not anticipate returning home, for they were all in servitude to the avatar of flesh’s mercy now, but one man who shared enough of a language with her plotted with her. Augustus was his name, and he was a dissenter to the powers above him. He resented the so-called “avatar of flesh” and sought to overtake it outright if possible, speaking about how he misses his wife and had been pulled away many great years ago. The stranger priest saw how Augustus was just one of many with similar stories and tragedies, so she agreed to help, and introduced herself as Ebele.

What was long and intense planning turned into a march upon the city temple, enough pushing past into a dense webbing of sinew and muscle that coated nearly every inch of the structure. Citlali, the avatar’s interpreter, was connected to the monster itself with a sinuous crown upon her head, smiling from her position of power. She howled, mocking their attempt, knowing none would survive the attempt and it would fail no matter what else. The avatar of flesh does not cease, it does not stop, and it marches onward until it finds all it needs to truly manifest itself into the world proper.

Ebele revealed a secret, to the horror of not just the interpreter, but the avatar of flesh itself: A mirror of iridescent glass.

As long as the isle had been hidden away for, something tapped at its outer coating and layer, as if a great finger dipping into a small pond, monstrous and large in presence, but in that attempt residue had fallen into the corners of the isle itself. Otherworldly glass, forged into a reflective surface itself. In a flash, the mirror cracked, and screams of hundreds upon the isle rang out, leaving an empty space within sea and sealing away not just the monstrous form, but its domain too.

That is, until the seal fragmented.

Fingers in a pond ripple the water, breaking the surface and disturbing its stillness. Repeated contact, either direct or elsewhere, leads to fractures and cracks that can weaken these seals over time.

As this seal had given way, in a dense cloud of fog, the mysterious isle could be seen off the Gulf of Mexico in the middle of the night of a hot summer in the 1980s by a group of close researchers. One of them, Joseph the restless, didn’t hesitate to write a note before heading out to check it himself. Soon, his friends followed suit, ready to berate and assist him while making their discovery known on their digital cameras to the best of their ability with the scarce light.

Arriving on the isle, the remaining friends found ruins and stonework that seemed alien to the region, especially for the size of the isle. Patterns and artwork mismatched and displaced from time and place itself, it was hard to tell the exact origin of anything, but upon entering the rotting, festering temple, they could hear the voice of Joseph calling them from within. They rushed to his aid in the dark, struggling to find him, and when they did, his skin was peeled back, stretched and misshapen over a hulking form. Bones and ribs from Joseph’s nude, split open body moved beneath the flesh, rearranging itself into different parts of this monstrous body. In the time of the seal, all was unmoving, but it rotted away, leaving corpses and husks of unusable flesh and bone. Now though, these strangers would serve well to begin a new era.

The explorers attempted to flee, but one-by-one they were captured, dragged back within its inhuman grasp, melded into its form, screaming all while conscious of every second, their flesh binding the monster’s true form within and pleading outward to any who could hear for mercy.

As the avatar of flesh stepped out from its temple, it looked upward toward unfamiliar stars beyond the fog cloud, its many rearranged and stolen eyes fixated on the strangeness as the victims sobbed, begging to go home.

In the hours the isle had appeared for in the gulf, it just as quickly had disappeared, leaving no trace other than rumors and an empty boat adrift with supplies, adding to one of many great mysteries, for the monstrous shape was finally taken after having attempted to elude a far greater predator than it. To a fish, the fingers in the pond are each a great monstrosity, incomprehensible, and it had just witnessed the hand reach out for it and finally secure a hold.

amalgamlore

beast claw
extensive research
glittering offering
spilled matchbox
priest's ward
opulent dish
texts of the avatar
stone weight
joseph's coordinates
splintered oar
wallet photo
maw of misshapen teeth
gemstone iris
explorer's headlamp
coiled limb
nighttime illustration
sinuous crown
stone figurine
fused eyes
iridescent auric mirror

MEDIA & LINKS

LIBERATED CACOPHONY CONCEPT ART
EARLY VISUAL EXPLORATION

dev notes

The Amalgam was originally designed as an inverse to my other original Killer, The Artefact, as less of a cursed or supernatural object and instead a sentient being. Creatively it was inspired by sources such as Society (1989), Bloodborne, and various body-horror media.

CREDITS

The characters "Terry Mitchell" and "The Amalgam" as well as their concept art were created by WheatDraws.
Perk, power, and add-on icons as well as their descriptions, lore sections and effects were created by WheatDraws.
Other image assets, such as icon backgrounds, portrait backgrounds and other such assets from Dead by Daylight belong to Behaviour Interactive.

THIS CONCEPT FEATURES CUSTOM MUSIC. FIND IT IN THE MUSIC PLAYER AT THE BOTTOM OF THIS WEBPAGE.

Gascoigne's boots clicked to the wet stonework of the city street, dashed with blood and wooden splinters from a nearby crate, now shattered. He pulled free his axe, the scratched surface of its blade coated in a dark red, a sickly sweet color that dripped like a candied glaze.

Behind him, he left the corpse of a beast, massive and furred, its face contorted into a half-remembered snout-shape. Eyes were milk, faded as if now better suited as marbles or pearls. Gascoigne could not bring himself to care, nor distract himself from the scent that caught his senses. The blood lured him through Yharnam as the grim moon loomed overhead, its moonlight shine occasionally obstructed by things unseen like passing clouds overhead.

A trail of blood was left from the axe head, the once steady supply of blood now turned a slow drizzle and drip, marking its way far from where he had been, traveling for an unknown time as both beast and man spared themselves from his trance and rage. The hunter himself found himself on familiar ground, but the scent was overwhelming, as if obstructing his other senses. A dense fog layered itself vertically, blocking the wide street itself, snuffing out all nearby lantern and light. Gascoigne inhaled deeply, nerves in his mine firing intensely. Something within beckoned to him, it sang to him, a familiar, soft song.

He stepped forward into the layers of moonlit fog, disappearing within as it faded to reveal an old, heavy door and a window nearby, a light flickering within. Just beyond the glass pane, the soft weeping of a little girl, singing a familiar song as she waited endlessly this night.

Gascoigne would never hear that same song again that lured him into the fog, breaking him free from any sense of safety, and neither would that young girl ever see her father again.

gascoignelore

hunter's cap
pearl slug
blood gem workshop tool
old hunter bone
celestial dial
cosmic eye watcher badge
blood of arianna
blood of adella
vacant pram
blue elixir
blindfold cap
beak mask
tomb key
gold pendant
piece of moonlight
mensis cage
old hunter badge
articulated hand
iridescent music box
partial umbilical cord

MEDIA & LINKS

Custom Concept Music Video

DEV NOTES

First Published: June 13th, 2025
Last Updated: June 13th, 2025

I had a "grazed" mechanic in mind for a long period of time, but no concept to tie it to, or anywhere it felt fitting as I wanted to have it cause bleeding regardless of condition. Eventually, when I began work on this concept, it became Abrasions / Abraded, and it fit perfectly with what I was aiming to do for the charge-up on Beast Form's transformation.

CREDITS

All references to Father Gascoigne, The Hunter / The Beast, and usage of other such characters and names belong to their respective owners.
Image render of Father Gascoigne / The Hunter / The Beast sourced from a 3D Model Showcase by Garden of Eyes.
Perk, power, and add-on icons as well as their descriptions, lore sections and effects were created by WheatDraws.
Other image assets, such as icon backgrounds, portrait backgrounds and other such assets from Dead by Daylight belong to Behaviour Interactive.

Frank Horrigan was a truly patriotic man. He devoted his life and service to the United States of America, specifically, the Enclave, the group that would lead the future of the Wasteland to its future.

While having an unremarkable childhood, he joined the remnants of the United States government within the Enclave, his self-serious nature and dedication proving useful to the greatest minds the Wasteland had at the time, despite their views and dedication to erasing all new life that came after the Great War. Frank’s mind and ideology was sculpted by the secretive faction, his hatred of mutated kind and anything non-human outweighed so much else, even to the point where he never truly noticed his own rapid mutations while exposed to the Forced Evolutionary Virus while in service to that same government.

Before then, he made a catastrophic mistake, one that nearly had him released from the Enclave, but was put on a less than noble duty compared to his former assignment as a Secret Service Agent. Now, he had to face the sickening sights of the wasteland, his resentment for the world and what it curated growing over time. However, something did come out of it, as his new assignment had discovered the remains of the F.E.V. in the wasteland after the demise of a Super Mutant leader. The Enclave couldn’t pass up the opportunity to use it for their own advantages or advancements, but as Frank and many others worked around the substance, he mutated. The already large man, already prone to violence, quick to cruelty, was quickly turning into the Super Mutants that had not too long ago plagued this land. His skin turning a nuclear green shade, his body unable to fit within the standardized Power Armor the Enclave supported him with, but they happily reforged new material, new plates, and new tech to see just how sane they could keep him while running a variety of tests.

Frank’s transformation did not turn him more rabid or unhinged than he already was, and after long years, he was put to work. Rejoining the Secret Service, Frank was able to retain his intelligence as a classified Super Mutant, but with how he was reassured and modified both cybernetically and genetically, he never saw that in himself. To him, he was a peak example of human supremacy while every other creature out in the wasteland was irradiated and mutated. They were the mutants, and grotesque in how they pretended they were people.

Frank Horrigan worked tirelessly and without hesitation to serve the Enclave’s interests, including helping to recover research that would allow them to use the discovered F.E.V. samples to create a chemical weapon that would blanket the whole of the United States, perhaps the world, to kill off all mutated life in a post-nuclear world. Subjects were gathered, tested, and it proved effective.

However, the interference of an Arroyo tribal who lived in the wasteland would prove an interference. This “Chosen One” who gathered allies and forces against the Enclave gained access to their secret off-shore oil rig base located miles out and away from the California shoreline and disrupted their plans, their machines. The President himself, killed to accomplish this, and while Frank had not been there to protect and serve, he would gladly kill and punish instead.

Just as this Chosen One had disrupted the oil rig, readying it to explode, Frank’s massive frame cut the exit off, packed into his specially-designed Power Armor and laughing at the futile attempts to reason. He could only find it amusing how it could emulate human speech, reason, and even question his faith in the Enclave. It was fruitless, especially with the freaks it had alongside it, including a few traitors that he dreamed of crushing underfoot without penalty. Today was his lucky day.

The firefight was explosive, Frank wielding the prototype Plasma Cannon and firing directly into the traitors, the shots puncturing armor, the metal walls and floors with a wide spread. A massive arm-mounted blade swiping and keeping off the melee assault, exposing pipes and steam, the air of the space filling quickly with hot gasses and obscuring vision. Frank had never worked so hard to fend off vermin, and even as he fought endlessly, all he had to do was keep them from leaving so the work could continue elsewhere.

The thick gas expanded, masking the blood-stained floor and damaged walls as shouts and screams echoed in the chamber. Minutes passed, Frank Horrigan’s breathing became heavy, the two tubes connected to his mask hissing from damage and exposure. With a bellowing shout, he crushed one final Enclave agent with a downward swing, the massive blade punching effortlessly through the power armor and sticking the man like a pig from the neck down into his body. With leverage from his foot, he pulled the blade out as it was covered in crimson, letting the traitor bleed out on the ground as the gas swallowed him whole.

In his fervor, Frank Horrigan fought on forever, seeing the faces of traitors, of mutants, and feeling the last moments of immense, fiery heat on his exposed skin as the timer in the other room ticked down eternally.

In this hell, Frank would fight forever, and he would do so with honor, with courage, and with the utmost joy.

franklore

intake tubing
enclave flag
vault 13 flask
flickering letter
microfusion cell
super stimpak
half of a deathclaw
motivator circuit
internal pump
radscorpion stinger
i.f.f transponder
new reno postcard
recovered f.e.v. samples
presidential access key
goris' robes
power fist
curling's cure
the other half
g.e.c.k.
irradiated bobblehead

media & links

dev notes

First Published: April 10th, 2025
Last Updated: April 10th, 2025

Frank Horrigan's kit was designed to balance a ranged Killer who also had a lethal melee option. Frank as a character is an absolute tank that obliterates anything in his way. So I sought out to make an Oni-like charge that worked alongside what his Plasma Cannon could do while giving the option for a slower, but dangerous ranged attack. Brittle seemed like a cool way to illustrate how strong he is versus the average person and allowed for a way to have him interface with breakable/destructable objects.
DBD has a trend of "Presence" perks always granting an effect to the Terror Radius, so it felt wrong to not have the famous "Terrifying Presence" Perk from Fallout not be attached to Frank Horrigan and not make him truly intimidating while allowing for synergies with himself and other Terror-related perks. As simple as it is, it is meant to be a backbone to many threatening TR-related effects.

credits

All references to The Super Mutant, The Deathclaw, and usage of other such characters and names belong to their respective owners.
Image render of Frank Horrigan / The Super Mutant sourced from an art render in Fallout: the Roleplaying Game.
Perk, power, and add-on icons as well as their descriptions, lore sections and effects were created by WheatDraws.
Other image assets, such as icon backgrounds, portrait backgrounds and other such assets from Dead by Daylight belong to Behaviour Interactive.

Those brave enough to wander the Glowing Sea rarely return, or at least, return with something worth the trouble. From those that do make it back, a fortune is waiting for them, and sometimes, a Deathclaw is not too far behind.

A wealthy collector, anonymous and willing to pay anything for Deathclaw eggs, hired trained raiders to wander into the Glowing Sea, stealing from the rest of a lonesome Deathclaw out on its hunt for food. The transaction was easy, escaping was hard, but the raiders were cut down by two-thirds by the end of it. They got their caps and bailed, leaving the collector to leave the Commonwealth area, heading far across the irradiated wasteland of America.

The Deathclaw, however, roared, its cries of anguish and pain echoed by the rad storm above as lighting crashed and crackled. The creature scarred its nest, leaving the Glowing Sea and invading a hiding place of the wounded raiders, obliterating what remained of their pack. In the mess of gore and carnage, she picked up the scent of her eggs, the lingering radiation of her kind in the worn out chair as well as a thick, musky perfume. With a snarl, the Deathclaw feasted upon and ripped apart her victims before heading west. Far west.

The longest of roads, of travels, exposing herself to highly irradiated areas and rivers, surviving with plentiful scars and wounds, the mother Deathclaw pushed onward, even as the scent became hard to track, discouraged by unfamiliar and strange rad storms overhead that washed away the scent. She was intelligent enough to know the paths such creatures would take, and followed what looked familiar enough, dodging unseen and unknown monsters twice her size, ones deadlier than her, more ferocious, but persevered for her eggs, slaughtering the caravans along the way, raiding the food of traders and their brahmin.

Endless time passed, her pebbled-hide foreign to this land and its own Deathclaws. The air was dry and her exterior cracked, bleeding as rivers and rainfall became less frequent. Every morning, she had to shake off the sand and dirt that the wind carried over, bringing her closer to her offspring. They had to be here.

The Deathclaw moved in closer, an old pre-war building standing resolute, surrounded by a wall of scrap metal and barbed wire. The sound of some humans could be heard at a gap in the wall, both raising their weapons and shouting, unsure of what they were looking out. The Deathclaw of her own appearance was strange, and her form was slim, malnourished from the long journey, but the irradiated blood in her body began to burn as the scent of familiar Deathclaw eggs struck her senses. With a growl, she approached.

A small private army, slaughtered and ripped apart in minutes, the private estate completely eviscerated, a part of the second floor crashing down on top of the building as she barreled through a wall, able to survive the firearms aimed at her. One soldier weakly dragged himself away, a leg completely cut off, the other barely hanging on by its muscles as it twisted unnaturally. The Deathclaw mother tore through the base, stomping through the ruins of the building and searching, leaving the still-living victim to push his way into the storeroom, seeking his shelter.

“Get the fuck out of here!” The employer hissed, hands trembling and holding a rifle with an untrained grip. He hid behind crates, each Marked with iconography and ink. The dying soldier whimpered and whined, but that’s all it took. The door was pushed wide open, the Deathclaw’s massive frame breaking past the door frame as both men cowered, looking upon the monstrous creature, its face and claws dripping with blood.

The employer, dressed in a mostly repaired pre-war suit, shuddered, unable to keep his aim still as the Deathclaw stood across from him. The monster sniffed the air, slowly, almost curiously moving toward a gap in the floor, reeking of trash and rot. Along it, wrappings and boxes of foodstuffs and supplies, trash missing this disposal site carelessly. The Deathclaw looked down, the weak lighting of the storeroom revealing a hole several feet deep.

The food of humans, candies, and various meats. Even through all of that though, she could see shells of eggs. Not just hers, but the familiar smells of others like her. Too many to count.

A loud, sharp ping rang out, a single bullet fired and ricocheted off the Deathclaw’s horn, leaving a mark upon its curve and causing the Deathclaw to recoil from the impact with a snarl. It didn’t take long for her to understand she came all this way to find what happened to her children and many others, and so she rushed toward the cowering man, her first and heaviest footfall crushing the skull of the crawling soldier on the way. Screams rang out from the storeroom, filling the now empty encampment, the dead dressed in the colors of a two-headed bear.

There was a brief moment of silence once the man’s screams were stopped, once his body was ripped into pieces, cruelly gutted in such a personal way.

The Deathclaw made her way out of the building as the earth trembled and shook, the distant screams of the nearby city within the cracked earth echoing out. Large clouds of dust kicked up, but the Deathclaw herself only steadied herself, weak and tired. A storm of dust kicked up, the earth opened wide as if screaming in pain, a rush of irradiated power erupting from the ground and obliterating the massive road that crossed this western land.

The mother barely could keep herself steady, the earth denied her the easy walk home, causing her to fall to the ground in a stumble. Sirens rang out, and once the Deathclaw could rise to her feet again, she joined them, her bellowing roar mixing her agony into the air as the dust clouds encroached, covering the land around her.

The pain of a mother losing her children, the pain of all other lost that she saw in that trash pit, she cried out amidst the raging storm of dust that kicked up from the earth. The dust mingled with darkness, manifesting a thick fog, and before she knew it, the warmth of the west left her body, and her body left the Divide as it broke apart under the roar of the Deathclaw and the alarms awakening deep below.

deathclawlore

crushed radroach
wasteland survival guide
desert ranger helmet
rusted license plate
diamond city swatter
grognak issue #10
brahmin heads
legion banner
sunset sarsaparilla bottle
t51-b power armor helmet
pristine deathclaw egg
concrete club
paladin holotag
charred flag
domestication unit
mysterious metal shard
glowing one's leg
nuka-cola quantum
irradiated pip-boy 3000
broken eggshells

MEDIA & LINKS

DEV NOTES

First Published: April 10th, 2025
Last Updated: April 10th, 2025

I wanted to design a territorial Killer with the Deathclaw's power, and it led me to the idea of herding Survivors into radioactive territories and threatening them with dangerous radiation that enhances an already mutated / radioactive Killer. There was never an iteration of radiation that injured or acted like Plague's sickness, but I wanted to convey that being irradiated still made you incredibly vulnerable to a Deathclaw's immense speed and sensory, hence the speed increases and the aura reading.
Wild Wasteland was a perk designed to be a "inconvenient and strange" perk that benefited the Killer in the most minor of ways potentially. It isn't meant to be good, just weird!
The Deathclaw's overall narrative was sort of meant to be a parallel to the journey of a wastelander and a weird mirror of a common Bethesda Fallout trope of going to find your relative, as well as getting the option to cross the American wasteland of Fallout during a specific time period.

CREDITS

All references to The Super Mutant, The Deathclaw, and usage of other such characters and names belong to their respective owners.
Image render of The Deathclaw sourced from a 3d model render by Jonah Lobe.
Perk, power, and add-on icons as well as their descriptions, lore sections and effects were created by WheatDraws.
Other image assets, such as icon backgrounds, portrait backgrounds and other such assets from Dead by Daylight belong to Behaviour Interactive.

THIS CONCEPT FEATURES CUSTOM MUSIC. FIND IT IN THE MUSIC PLAYER AT THE BOTTOM OF THIS WEBPAGE.

A grotesque pop of bone, slipping free from the meat it had been connected too. The hard spine was coated in crimson, miserably dripping on the floor as the eye sockets flared with horrid unlife.

The Collector in its horrid shape tucked the newfound addition within its coat as it scanned the room around, corpses of the dead, their heads removed, littered the environment around. They screamed, begging for mercy, for release from this hell, and it all was lost in the noise of madness that burned in the cold fires of the Collector's discolored skull.

Just as the horror began to leave, it felt an alluring pull to the cracked open crypt lid these souls had attempted to liberate for themselves. Something sang within, a discordant melody that both clashed and entwined with its own maddening cackle.

With an almost effortless grasp, the heavy, delicately curated lid slid off, crashing to the hard stone floor, splashing a stray pool of blood up as it did so. Inside were piles of gold, glimmering gemstones, and rare baubles, all of which The Collector had seen many times over. All of it the same, all of it replicated, duplicated, and as misshaped as it was originally.

... Except ...

The cold grasp of the Collector reached in, the soft chime of gold clicking together filled the dark ruins as the hand searched for that discordant sound, grasping at something... warm.

With this curiosity liberated from the piles, in its hand was a peculiar gemstone of glass, sharp to the touch and an intense heat from within its seemingly hollow core. Perplexed, the horror's empty gaze looked upon it intensely, studying it as it shifted its weight, hissing and whispering unheard madness and promises. The red core of it seeped through hollow spaces, shaped like veins and gave it the impression of a beating heart at its center.

Mesmerized, the body of torment and dead guilt stared into this unknown abyss, pulled in by a new beating heart from a distant land. A dense fog enclosed all around it, the heads it had thus far collected joining in this curiosity, entranced by this oddity as the chamber filled with a new kind of darkness.

As the Entity claimed the Collector and its parade of victims, its presence lingered, leaving the unpilfered crypt haunted by the shape of what was once there.

collectorlore

SHARPENED LETTER OPENER
SECOND PLACE TROPHY
TWO OF THREE
COMET SHARD
CHILDHOOD TREASURE
TIN FLUTE
VENGEFUL KILL LIST
OSMOND CHAINS
DISMAS' HEAD
BARRISTAN'S HEAD
COURT INVITATION
CRYSTALLINE FANG
SHAMEFUL LOCKET
PUZZLING TRAPEZOHEDRON
CHIPPED TOOTH
JUNIA'S HEAD
TYRANT'S TASTING CUP
EVIDENCE OF CORRUPTION
ANCESTOR'S CANDLE
IRIDESCENT WAX SEAL

MEDIA & LINKS

CHAPTER CONCEPT MUSIC

DEV NOTES

First Published: May 9th, 2025
Last Updated: May 9th, 2025

Part of the desire of The Collector's gameplay was to have the push and pull aspect of Darkest Dungeon's stress mechanics, and how you can pull yourself back from the brink of danger and become resolute. However, I wanted to make sure that there was a feeling of faltering hope, which comes in the form of the longer "cool-downs" of Altars of Hope as time goes on, making it harder to prevent stress and defeat the Collected Heads.
The Collector's perkset was inspired by different gameplay occurrences in Darkest Dungeon, specifically reading an unsettling passage, the sudden and dangerous encounter with The Collector that would catch someone off-guard, and relics of otherworldly nature that loom over throughout.

CREDITS

All music tracks for this concept were commissioned by myself and created by SavageD.
All references to The Collector and usage of other such characters and names belong to their respective owners.
Image render of The Collector sourced from promotional images and in-game renders from Darkest Dungeon II.
Perk, power, and add-on icons as well as their descriptions, lore sections and effects were created by WheatDraws.
Other image assets, such as icon backgrounds, portrait backgrounds and other such assets from Dead by Daylight belong to Behaviour Interactive.

THIS CONCEPT FEATURES CUSTOM MUSIC. FIND IT IN THE MUSIC PLAYER AT THE BOTTOM OF THIS WEBPAGE.

It was like puncturing a bubble, or a balloon.

The cold steel stabbed into her heart, a wicked and malicious whine of Sylvanas' essence pouring out of the wound. It mingled and entwined with her scream, howling over the surrounding woods, over the lingering bodied that scattered across the field.

Her scream rang out across miles for days, like her death haunted the world, her pain the last thing she could contribute to the lands she swore to defend.

Sylvanas' tears stained her cheeks as she was ripped apart, the vision of darkness and death overlaying herself until the tension build up, unable to withstand the pressure before breaking, taking the form of a dark spirit who could not beckon, who could not plead, but could only serve.

As her mortal self was raised and integrated into the forces of the vile Arthas Menethil, her slayer, she still didn't stop screaming.

Somewhere, she was still screaming. Her chest burned with the pain and fury, the defiance she held within while her wound festered with an unholy cold.

With every possible ounce of air in her lungs liberated, she finally stopped screaming, the weight of her body crashing down, knees slamming into the earth beneath her before toppling over entirely. Her limbs trembled, taking several moments before pushing herself up, feeling trampled dirt and patchy grass beneath her.

Her body tensed, flinching with each small movement. She winced, visions of the undead in her mind, visions of a great fire in the canopy of a tree, a city spewing disease like it was a dragon belching fire. She could hear her own voice, but had no idea what it was.

Sylvanas rose to her feet weakly, exhaling and shivering. Whatever she was seeing, she could only recognize people in pain, and she had been complicit.

She pulled herself closer through dark, unfamiliar woods, dragging her feet with each step. She was no longer home, nowhere near, but that would not stop her. She was alive, and her people were in danger. All people were in danger, recognizing some kind of defeat to Arthas, but she had a second chance here. She just had to get back, to save those in his warpath.

But she could not shake the visions, nor would she ever. The direness and wicked deeds she saw through it, however vague, would push her forward.

She needed to get back. She had to.

MEDIA & LINKS

WARCRAFT CONCEPT MUSIC SHOWCASE
Warbringers: Sylvanas

dev notes

First Published: March 21st, 2025
Last Updated: March 21st, 2025

The choice to go with a pre-banshee Sylvanas was very much intentional, and to keep the concept more firmly rooted in what Warcraft 3 established, as well as having an iconic character at a crucial point in time of her narrative without having to de-power her a ton. It would be quite a stretch to have Banshee Sylvanas be the Survivor, considering what she is capable of.
Sylvanas Menu Theme was inspired by Lament of the Highborne
How could I forgetti.

credits

All music tracks for this concept were commissioned by myself and created by ScooteyBootey.
All references to The Lich King, Sylvanas Windrunner, and usage of other such characters and names belong to their respective owners.
Image render of The Lich King sourced from a Warcraft 3: Reforged.
Perk, power, and add-on icons as well as their descriptions, lore sections and effects were created by WheatDraws.
Other image assets, such as icon backgrounds, portrait backgrounds and other such assets from Dead by Daylight belong to Behaviour Interactive.

THIS CONCEPT FEATURES CUSTOM MUSIC. FIND IT IN THE MUSIC PLAYER AT THE BOTTOM OF THIS WEBPAGE.

Arthas' grip weakened, the sword now shattered laid at his side. For the first time in a long time, his lungs breathed the cold air of the north on their own. His nerves, burning, dying as he stared skyward.

The visage of his father loomed over, speaking truly to him. In his weakness, he waned, the once-prince exhaling the warmth he still had within as darkness overtook his vision.

He waited, drifting in death for what felt like eternity, plummeting further down. He could feel wind whip past him, his face, even if he couldn't see anything clearly anymore. The way air slipped past his unshaven face as he fell like an icy meteor into an abyssal shape.

As the darkness warped around him, his consciousness took shape once again, but all he could do is desire air. He suffocated, weakly reaching to his own neck, clawing to feel for something, anything. Opening his mouth, he could not intake air as he drowned in the dark alone.

What was moments of torment in death became hours, days, maybe months. Silent agony, endless... until, he could finally take something in.

In the void, he saw the glint of cold steel, dark metal of a familiar helm. It whispered, a familiar sound to him but strange. His fingertips tapped at it as he struggled to reach, still desperately sucking at air unsuccessfully. Finally, his grip found purchase, pulling toward him the grim helm, desperately bringing it to him in a trembling grasp as he slipped it on instinctively. It slipped onto his head easily, settling like a long-lost comfort.

He could breathe again.

Beneath him, he found purchase of a dark floor, pushing himself up in the heavy armor he donned, regaining his strength slowly but surely. Even as the discordant whispers of the helm reached his ears, he could feel another pull at his hand, something instinctual as he lumbered forward out of the dark.

Who knew how long he traveled, his voice growing deep, and grim. Arthas' instinct was to survive, to live, and yet, he could feel that control slipping away.

But he did see something familiar. In a pile of charred wood and stone, each layered in frost as the blade Frostmourne rested in its center, the skull facing the man himself.

He could never ask how it was that it was here now, to consider where the spirit of his father was, the one who had tried to inform him of his actions, the one who worked against his plans. His plans? No, the Lich King's.

Was he even still himself, did he have the preservation to breathe through the helm, or was that something else? Was it just memory of how he reached out to claim Frostmourne with Muradin at his side, or did he claim it as his option for survival.

The armored man gripped the weapon, pulling it free from the pile, watching as it left with a haze of frost, a familiar sensation to when he first found it in Northrend...

As the blade fully left the charred pile, it ignited with an unnatural fire, a small campsite revealed in its light, the dark receding, but clinging like a cloak to the body of the Lich King.

He looked upon the weapon, the hissing, the strange voices invading his mind again. Arthas looked skyward, attempting to recognize where he was, to chart a path back to the Eastern Kingdom, feeling as if in control once more.

Then, The Lich King sheathed the sword, the footfalls only somewhat out of sync with the mind that acted as passenger. The Prince would not know peace, freedom, nor even death in this hell, as a dark command overtook his body, leading him away from the unnatural fire.

Frostmourne hungers.

stratholme brick
broken hearthstone
wilting flower
jagged fragment
paladin's cloth
statue head
guardian's feather
muradin's helmet
cruel fragment
frostbrood sapphire ring
Invincible's reins
ranger-general's quiver
barrel of blight
malignant fragment
deathbringer's will
magical urn
kel'thuzad's staff
frost wyrm tooth
iridescent crown
crate of plagued grain

MEDIA & LINKS

WARCRAFT CONCEPT MUSIC SHOWCASE
Wrath of the Lich King Cinematic
Lore In Short - Arthas Menethil

dev notes

First Published: March 21st, 2025
Last Updated: March 21st, 2025

The core mechanics of Runeforger was inspired by the Death Knight specializations in World of Warcraft. The visual indicators also inspired by early tests of Death Knight's icons featuring unique indicators of selected runes.
Part of the idea with The Lich King's design was to make a slow-moving, but deadly force that telegraphed his power to a degree, much like what you would expect of a raid boss. Iridescent Crown also pushes the idea of powerful abilities that telegraph based on a more unique playstyle.
How could I forgetti.

credits

All music tracks for this concept were commissioned by myself and created by ScooteyBootey.
All references to The Lich King, Sylvanas Windrunner, and usage of other such characters and names belong to their respective owners.
Image render of The Lich King sourced from a Warcraft 3: Reforged.
Perk, power, and add-on icons as well as their descriptions, lore sections and effects were created by WheatDraws.
Other image assets, such as icon backgrounds, portrait backgrounds and other such assets from Dead by Daylight belong to Behaviour Interactive.

Ted stumbled out from the folding door of the phone booth, rolling over on the grassy earth beneath him with a laugh as he looked over to his friend Bill.

"Wild!" They both said in unison, standing up as they looked at the sparking traveling machine.

Ted stood up and brushed off his arms free of dirt and grass as he looked around aimlessly at the dark canopy of trees and branches, including the starless sky above.

"Any idea where we ended up, Bill?"

"When, you mean, Ted." Bill smirked, his eyes glancing over the earth and old trees.

"Oh, right."

Silence filled the nodding of their heads as they continued to look around before Ted's head whipped around to meet his friend's.

"Any idea when we are?"

"Beats me, Ted."

The duo wandered a short way before the phone booth sparked loudly, charging and violently erupting in power before disappearing as it always had before.

"Hey!" Ted shouted, "How are we supposed to go home now?" He turned to his friend, frustrated briefly before Bill smiled and patted his shoulder.

"Not to worry, dude! Look, that guy probably knows where we are. Come on!" Bill started walking toward the treeline as Ted's eyes followed, seeing the shape of a figure holding a sharp object in hand, staring and watching them.

A sinking feeling settled at the bottom of his gut, slowing his steps. Both he and Bill realized the same thing as the masked figure stepped out of the darkness, covered in blood: They probably should figure out where they were first, not when.

MEDIA & LINKS

DEV NOTES

First Published: October 25th, 2020
Last Updated: January 1st, 2025

The idea of Bill & Ted in Dead by Daylight was just way too funny of an idea for me to do when I originally thought of it in 2020. While they aren't at all related to horror, I felt it was a great chance to show these unapologetically altruistic and "good vibes" kind of characters in a bad situation.
Ted's perkset was originally meant to be about giving others information and using that to keep people grouped up and able to help each other more easily as a form of altruism to keep them in the loop.

CREDITS

All references to Bill S. Preston, Theodore Logan, and usage of other such characters and names belong to their respective owners.
Image render of Bill & Ted sourced from a collectable statue by Sideshow.
Perk, power, and add-on icons as well as their descriptions, lore sections and effects were created by WheatDraws using the Bill & Ted franchise.
Other image assets, such as icon backgrounds, portrait backgrounds and other such assets from Dead by Daylight belong to Behaviour Interactive.

Bill tumbled out from the folding door of the phone booth, crashing onto the grassy earth beneath him with a laugh as he looked over to his friend Ted.

"Wild!" They both said in unison, standing up as they looked at the sparking traveling machine.

Bill rolled his shoulders after standing up, looking at the forest and dark expanse around them, the ground overgrown and trampled down with chaotic footpaths over time.

"Any idea where we ended up, Bill?" Ted questioned, unaware of where the machine had even taken them or who had even punched in the directions as he took in the skies above.

"When, you mean, Ted."

"Oh, right."

Quiet filled the acknowledgement of the correction and moment as they continued to look around before Bill's head turned to meet his friend's.

"Any idea when we are?"

"Beats me, Ted."

The duo wandered a short way before the phone booth sparked loudly, charging and violently erupting in power before disappearing as it always had before.

"Hey!" Ted shouted, "How are we supposed to go home now?" He turned to his friend, frustrated briefly before Bill smiled and patted his shoulder.

"Not to worry, dude! Look, that guy probably knows where we are. Come on!" Bill started walking toward the treeline as Ted's eyes followed, seeing the shape of a figure holding a sharp object in hand, staring and watching them.

Bill didn't realize Ted wasn't right behind him after a few more steps, but he saw it too. He thought it was some big dude in a Jason costume, but no. It looked very odd and his smile dropped. Both he and Bill realized the same thing as the masked figure stepped out of the darkness, covered in blood: They probably should figure out where they were first, not when.

MEDIA & LINKS

dev notes

First Published: October 25th, 2020
Last Updated: January 1st, 2025

The idea of Bill & Ted in Dead by Daylight was just way too funny of an idea for me to do when I originally thought of it in 2020. While they aren't at all related to horror, I felt it was a great chance to show these unapologetically altruistic and "good vibes" kind of characters in a bad situation.
Bill's perk set was originally inspired by a form of altruism that would keep friends out of danger and get in the way of them from being hurt.

credits

All references to Bill S. Preston, Theodore Logan, and usage of other such characters and names belong to their respective owners.
Image render of Bill & Ted sourced from a collectable statue by Sideshow.
Perk, power, and add-on icons as well as their descriptions, lore sections and effects were created by WheatDraws using the Bill & Ted franchise.
Other image assets, such as icon backgrounds, portrait backgrounds and other such assets from Dead by Daylight belong to Behaviour Interactive.

Naru had proven herself, not to just her people, but to something beyond these lands. She knew there were threats out there, but would not be aware of what eyes lingered on her.

While hunting with Sarii, her animal companion, the cool morning air darkened as a great shadow cast over the sky. Thundering, dark clouds, and crimson glows emanated from the layers of clouds far above. She had seen it before, and then she considered it a sign. Now she associated it with the one hunter that slain her own brother and the camp of white men.

With heart and blood pumping, both her and Sarii rushed through the woods, the thundering louder, the clouds growing far above. She looked up, but it changed shape. She swore she saw something strike through the sky, like a talon carving through its own storm.

This distraction caused her to catch her foot on a tree root, stumbling as Sarii barked and whined. Naru looked behind her and saw the same rolling storm, streaking through the trees.

She ran, trying to outrun the calamitous cloud, taking a path away from her home. If this was the hunter, or its kind, she would lure it away from those who could not fight, who didn't know what to expect. It, however, was gaining on her and she could see the talons more clearly. Black, like charred wood and black stone, trembling as it reached out from its thundering mass of fog. Just as it swiped after her, Naru flung her rope axe out, clashing against it and deflecting the massive claw.

This victory didn't last long, as before she could pull her weapon back it was swallowed by the rumbling fog before being suddenly pulled taut, trying to drag her in. She slid across the ground until she planted her feet on a rock and tree, pulling back as she struggled to untie the rope attached to her.

Sarii bravely roared in, trying to fend off the rolling fog for Naru, but she could see the large black talon rise up and swing downward. Naru didn't hesitate, releasing her own tension and flying forward toward Sarii, pushing her friend out of the way as the claw instead impaled into her side, sweeping her into the fog itself with a howl of defiance and pain.

Sarii so quickly sounded so far away, and a fever took to her mind as Naru next awoke in an unfamiliar expanse, heavily trampled earth and a crackling fire nearby. Naru saw the length of rope, cut from her waist as it was pulled away toward the fire. She looked onward, recovering from her physical state and seeing a creature in clothing she had never seen, but the build and sounds... those were familiar.

A monster, standing in the light of the fire held the axe and its rope in one hand, dropping it into the fire as it consumed it in its entirety.

The world shook, trembling as if something other than the fire accepted the offering. By the time she rose to her feet, the monster faced her with a mask of metal and roared, unsheathing two jagged blades from its gauntlet.

She would not back down from this challenge. Not now, not ever. She moved first, and charged in.

MEDIA & LINKS

DEV NOTES

First Published: November 29th, 2024
Last Updated: November 29th, 2024

While Dutch was designed as a confrontational and aggressive counterpart to The Predator, Naru's perkset was made as an alternate take on it where you outwit and outperform The Predator by using your perceived weakness to your advantage.

CREDITS

All references to Predator, Yautja, Alan "Dutch" Schaefer, and usage of other such characters and names belong to their respective owners.
Image render of Naru sourced from promotional photos of Prey.
Image render of Dutch sourced from Illfonic's Predator: Hunting Grounds and edited.
Image render of Predator commissioned from and created by BenjsArchive for purpose and use by Dead by Daylight Community Concept Team and edited.
This concept was originally drafted and completed in collaboration with the Dead by Daylight Community Concept Team and originally posted as a video on the Rarithlynx YouTube channel.
Perk, power, and add-on icons as well as their descriptions, lore sections and effects were created by WheatDraws using the Predator franchise.
Other image assets, such as icon backgrounds, portrait backgrounds and other such assets from Dead by Daylight belong to Behaviour Interactive.

THIS CONCEPT WAS ORIGINALLY PUBLISHED IN 2021.
THE PRESENTATION BELOW IS THE MOST RECENT ITERATION OF IT AND HAS BEEN ARCHIVED SINCE THE OFFICIAL RELEASE.

THIS CONCEPT WAS ORIGINALLY PUBLISHED IN 2020 AND WAS UPDATED IN 2021.
THE PRESENTATION BELOW IS THE MOST RECENT ITERATION OF IT AND HAS BEEN ARCHIVED SINCE THE OFFICIAL RELEASE.

Take one deep breath, and exhale. Ripley’s hand rested gently on the soft fur of Jonesy as the sleep pod shut with a hiss, a more comforting one than she had gotten used to. As she fell to unconsciousness, her fingers combed through the thin ginger hairs on the pet as her last sensation before she was taken away by sleep.Then, she woke up.The soft sensation in her fingers was gone, the distant sound of birds and the smell of rain invaded her senses at once, and as she pushed open the latch to her pod, she knew something wasn’t right. Dressing herself, she emerged from a crashed ship, a place entirely unfamiliar to her.Ripley went into the fog that weaves beyond the trees, confident and readied as best as she could for the unknown.

adaptability
showdown
firebomb

THIS CONCEPT WAS ORIGINALLY PUBLISHED IN 2020 AND WAS UPDATED IN 2021.
THE PRESENTATION BELOW IS THE MOST RECENT ITERATION OF IT AND HAS BEEN ARCHIVED SINCE THE OFFICIAL RELEASE.

In the undergrowth lurks a creature from beyond space. Taken from a derelict spacecraft dripping with viscera and failed rebellion against such a creature, this lifeform now skulks in the forest space of the Entity.Something attempts to hide from something else, unaware of its approach. With nothing more than a low hiss and unrivaled speed, the creature slips past wet foliage in the light rain, its footsteps only becoming quiet as it bounds through the air, landing upon the screaming creature.The screaming didn't last long, as claws punctured the throat and tail skewered into the lungs, replacing shrill shrieks for help with disappointing wet noises of mortality.Like a limp doll, this creature maimed its victim, feeling unsatisfied with its catch.
It was not the only sound that the alien had heard, and with a small chitter from the Entity, the captor ushered its newest tool toward more vulnerable prey.

hex: stowaway
isolating dread
out of sight

Aria could feel her heart threaten to break out of her ribcage, hunkered low beneath a wall as she could still feel the goosebumps on her arms from the sound of the gunfire in the nearby segment of the arena.

“A scavenger has been executed.”

The announcer, cold and unfeeling, spoke for the third time this round. Aria, known as Sawbones to spectators, skulked with her vambrace re-secured to her arm as she could see the exit points materialize in the Garden. That was her exit.

She locked eyes through the shrubbery, seeing the voids in the animal skull. She couldn’t see the eyes, but they were there. As real as the long-range sniper rifle that raised in her direction.

Blood pumped through her veins as she made a mad dash forward, feeling a single shot clip her hair, a brief feeling as if her head got yanked from the impact, ruining her momentum as she staggered, dropping into the ruins of a structure and tumbling into the thick brush as jagged branches scraped and prodded against her, thorns also pricking at her skin.

She hissed, but learned to not make too much noise as she waited for the sound of the hunter to pass, who no doubt saw the fumble. The woman was too good with the rifle, it made movement dangerous.

But… it never came. An uneasy calm fell over her, barely able to see the jagged, pointed spires of the Garden’s edges rising above to pierce the sky.

Aria waited minutes before carefully pulling herself out of the shrubbery, feeling it snap against her force before realizing the Garden changed. It changed… a lot. Something grossly unfamiliar to her, dark woods, natural corners for predator and prey to lurk…

No exit points.

Aria’s heart swelled into her throat, making her cautious and uneasy. This isn’t how the Garden is meant to be played, something must’ve happened. Just as Aria went to reload her vambrace, she was too preoccupied to understand that it was no longer on her wrist.

Aria fell still, chilled even. She looked around, trying to find anything familiar to orient herself. The woods here looked nothing like the ruins or anything the Garden had presented before. She did, however, see a familiar glint through the brush around two-hundred yards out. A bird passed overhead loudly, but not loud enough to distract Aria from the one noise she found familiar:

The pull of the trigger.

MEDIA & LINKS

Deathgarden: bloodharvest OST

DEV NOTES

First Published: February 4th, 2024
Last Updated: February 4th, 2024

CREDITS

All references to Sawbones, Stalker, and usage of other such characters and names belong to their respective owners.
Image render of Sawbones and Stalker commissioned from and created by Elisaary.
Perk, power, and add-on icons as well as their descriptions, lore sections and effects were created by WheatDraws using the Predator franchise.
Other image assets, such as icon backgrounds, portrait backgrounds and other such assets from Dead by Daylight belong to Behaviour Interactive.

The trials had begun to slow in frequency, and Eve had sought out guidance in the Garden. She had one trial ahead of her, and so she began her own personal meditation and practice by having one printed for her in the arena ahead of time.

It made her feel closer to herself and the Spirit of the Woods. This day in particular had a strange energy in the air as she settled into the trampled grass, kneeling down and setting aside her rifle.

From her belt, she unclipped a small reliquary container, wrapped in a metal decoration and hosting a blackened organ within of unknown origins and composed of an unrecognizable shape, having been preserved for years. She felt through the long-dead force within the container, feeling the whisper of the wind, the gentle touch of darkness around her. Something spoke to her softly. It wasn’t her, but it felt… familiar.

She fastened her mask, grabbing the reliquary as the dark organ pulsed with life momentarily. Before rising her to feet, she grabbed her weapon just as the blades of trampled grass and brush rustled, a dense fog pushing each blade and leaf aside to swirl and surround Eve’s ankles, creating a shallow sea of darkness around her. The edges of the arena were eclipsed by this new darkness, the great statues reigning high above obscured and distant.

She took a deep breath in, feeling the world change around her as she welcomed the sensations, but in her heart, clinging to her form, she still felt the embrace of the Spirit of the Woods.

She opened her eyes to a world unfamiliar to her, but a distant bird perched nearby a crackling campfire that looked onward to her.

This would be her new trial, a new order dictated by another voice, the reassurance of the Spirit of the Woods soothing any worries.

The hunt is on.

blood-stained leaf
broken vambrace
organ jar
power core crate
ammo crate
skewering ammunition
black feather
adjustable sling
siphon tubing
hacked health crate
blood cells
SNAPPED BONE
hunter's gloves
velvet antler
tracking ammunition
golden crate
mantler's grip
piercing ammunition
iridescent reliquary
active hunter drone

MEDIA & LINKS

Deathgarden: Bloodharvest OST

DEV NOTES

First Published: February 4th, 2024
Last Updated: February 4th, 2024

CREDITS

All references to Sawbones, Stalker, and usage of other such characters and names belong to their respective owners.
Image render of Sawbones and Stalker commissioned from and created by Elisaary.
Perk, power, and add-on icons as well as their descriptions, lore sections and effects were created by WheatDraws using the Predator franchise.
Other image assets, such as icon backgrounds, portrait backgrounds and other such assets from Dead by Daylight belong to Behaviour Interactive.

Levia felt the warmth of blood dribble down her lips, to her chin. Small crimson droplets falling to the grass below, already bloodstained from the rabbit offering. She felt the surge of the Shadow fill her, eyes fueled with visions of power. For once, she'd have power, agency, freedom...

Everything.

The light and sensation of the profane ritual struck into her skin, a sensation she remembered long after the beginning of her fate.

Levia, the mutant muscle and accursed Shadow granting her strength and power had led her to this ritual before her. Solana and all within would bow and break beneath the Demonastery. The shadowbeasts and all tiers and forms of the legions will tear open gateways and rifts, the Dimenxxional openings allowing all those with Sol's light to understand they never had a chance.

A line of armored figured, thirteen in total, all laid, bleeding out into the structure beneath them as it ingested the blood tribute. The flesh itself sapped away, fueling the return. Levia was a willing vessel, the ideal candidate since her own initiative to take fate into her own hands... No longer was she to be a poor farmgirl, working in servitude.

This is what she sought as she could feel a rift tear into her body, flesh and bone splitting, blood dripping out eyes and mouth, the tears and rips in her own body and limbs as they expanded and mutated wildly.

Blasmophet's vessel released herself to it, but as she did, the Shaden creature was pulled elsewhere. Even as it sank and mutated its own flesh into Levia, it pulled her with, a hellish screech of misery rang out, a song unfamiliar to the woman who watched the ritual, witnessing as the vessel and the Soul Harvester itself collapsed into a dense fog, filling the chamber quickly.

By the time it cleared, Vynnset looked onward to the now vacant space where Levia once stood, briefly confused. A subtle panic set in, the familiar pressure and presence of Shadow itself was no longer present in the ritual.

In the shadow of the Demonastery as it flew over Solana, a beacon of light beamed. The heroes below inspired as the tide of battle turned in their favor, all while Blasmophet was taken to a land far beyond Rathe, severed from the Dimenxxional connections it had. The only company it had was its vessel, Levia.

Levia, her devotion unbreaking, vowed to free herself and the Soul Harvester from whatever magic that had bound them, but could not shake the presence of a different being around her... This was no world with the light of Sol, nor was it the hellscape of the Shadow. For once, she had to be cautious, but found that wicked sickness in her stomach demanding not just substance, but sacrifice.

Many sacrifices.

barkbone strapping
platter of flesh
ritual candle
dull dagger
hooves of the shadowbeast
convulsing flesh
screamer head
bowl of blood
stranger's heart
pile of fangs
ritual sacrifice
wicked bone
breath of the shaden death hydra
piercing needle
dust from the shadow crypts
hell hammer
portrait of barthimont
scabskin leathers
silver gargoyle pendant
iridescent gem

links & media

official levia hero page

dev notes

First Published: October 23rd, 2024
Last Updated: November 11th, 2024

Levia requiring 13 tokens to transform is a direct reference to both Levia, the Redeemed // Blasmophet, Levia Consumed card having a similar life total requirement, which also is relevant to the lore of Blasmophet manifesting within herself as a vessel through sacrifice.
Hex: Sundering Rhythm is a reference to many of Flesh and Blood's Runeblade class cards having a musical reference in their card names, as well as the randomized Skill Checks being a reference to the Brute class having an affinity for rolling dice.
Most add-ons are references to various cards in Flesh and Blood, or in stories that feature Levia.

credits

All references to Flesh and Blood, Levia, Blasmophet, and usage of other such characters and names belong to Legend Story Studios.
Image render used for Levia / The Abomination are edited from "Levia, Shadowborn Abomination" by Wisnu Tan.
Perk, power, and add-on icons as well as their descriptions, lore sections and effects were created by WheatDraws using the Flesh and Blood IP and characters.
Other image assets, such as icon backgrounds, portrait backgrounds and other such assets from Dead by Daylight belong to Behaviour Interactive.

The darkness of the world surrounded Cahara. Now, more than ever, he missed the comfort of his lover, so far away. Here, he lost nearly everything.

The sound, that voice, that skin-crawling sound ripped into him as he rushed through the tight corridors of the dungeon. This was unlike anything he had seen yet, unlike anything he had heard. Grotesque, disturbed creatures stalked the halls, he found himself quickly making his way into the depths for the reward he needed for his new life.

Before him, a man with long hair, throat cut and bleeding down a bare chest, like wax off a burning candle with no fire left. In the realization of the event, his companions reacted emotionally, but his mind spiraled. Was everything lost? Did he miss his chance? His feet moved on his own, and now he found himself here. Reliving that moment of everything on repeat.

Blood.

Shackles.

Tears.

The last laugh he heard from her.

Cahara couldn't gather his focus before he realized the stonework he was familiar with and brushed against in his haste quickly turned to a rough, crunchy tree bark. His breath was shallow, face pale, cold and sickly as he took in his surroundings. It was dark, cold, and even with a night sky high above, he never felt more claustrophobic before.

CHARACTERS FEATURED IN THIS TOME

DOWNFALL TOME COSMETIC - "Ascended Mercenary"

Deep Below and Within

Cahara sputtered, blood from his mouth dripping down his lip and chin, staining the dying leaves that crunched under his weight as he moved forward slowly. A weight so heavy, keeping from running forward or away, as if he had a choice. The warmth of the blood reminded him that he was alive, for now.

Was he dreaming? It felt unreal, even with all he had seen before in these dungeons.

He saw the shape of blackness in the dark, something against the color of lightless black that stood out. An obelisk, like out of a dream. Odd and abstract in its form, the smell of what could only be described as the hideous odor of someone being turned inside out with its grotesque warmth and sting to the senses.

Forward he moved, clutching his side as he found himself reduced to a crawl, first to his knees, then on all fours. His breathing became more intense as the smell of the air and the space he was in drugged his mind.

He had never seen this place before. Was he still in the dungeons? Even looking up, there were no stars in the sky, no moon, nor a sun. No canopy with holes like netting to peer at the space beyond, just pure blackness. The pressure upon his body was immense as he vomited softly, coating himself and the ground with a gross slurry of food he no longer recognized.

Cahara pressed onward, the warmth of blood, the smell of his own vomit, and now the wetness of his eyes were the only assurances he had anymore as his gloved hand gripped and clawed into the earth, pulling himself forward. His legs did not simply give out, the will to use them had just ceased.

He neared that obelisk, that foreign shape… It spoke in words he did not understand, in words he did not remember. The color of it was like a lone tree, its bark made of hardened hide and flesh, deep grooves in its surface that did not bleed, or if they did, it was long since they had shed any of that life essence. Even still, he could feel something from it.

Cahara’s dulled mind glazed over, but not enough to experience what would come next. As if hands of millions of fingers were inside him, thin and spindly digits winding around and squeezing at his stomach and organs, wringing them out, ejecting their contents in whichever direction they could go. It was a violent exorcism of his innards as he writhed on the ground, numb to it all aside from the taste and warmth that made him human being pulled out of him from the inside. Cahara rolled onto his back, hair now stained in browns and dull greens, chunks left upon his face, pants soiled and the bed of leaves beneath him turned into a fine bed of crumbled leaves. He looked up to see this obelisk again, unmoving and unfeeling.

Cahara awoke from his brief nap with a startle, his head lightly tapping the hard wall of his cell as he caught his breath. The mercenary swallowed, feeling at his pale face, checking for anything around him. He felt like he had been gone for hours, but he heard the same footsteps down the metal walkways just before he drifted into this sleep. The mercenary took a deep breath, blinking eyes quickly with a flutter as his hand ran through his hair.

The torchlight of someone approached and the man couldn’t make out who it was, but it wasn’t a guard, certainly. A small restoration of hope pierced into his heart, a chance opportunity to get out and complete his mission. This dream, of course, had to be a trick of the dungeon. He knew this place was dangerous, but perhaps he underestimated it. A brief lapse of faith in himself, in his future or way home, certainly.

Cahara, freed from his cell, meets a new ally with heavy pockets. Confidently and charmingly, he strides out in tow behind the torchbearer, not realizing he had taken with him a small doll in his hand that was inside his cell, unaware of its presence in the first place. It was in his nature to take what he could, he reasoned it was a reflex or muscle memory, but the wringing in his stomach lingered long after. By the time he would find out the truth, it would have been far too late. The dungeon of fear and hunger has its ways of changing those who enter.

LINKS & MEDIA

Chase and Menu Themes

DEV NOTES

First Published: September 9th, 2024
Last Updated: March 29th, 2025

Cahara was chosen as Survivor representation from Fear & Hunger due to the creator's own story of how "Cahara" was the default protagonist name in their own projects prior to Fear & Hunger as well as, in my opinion, being witness to one of the more important moments of the game's many endings, that being the birth of The God of Fear and Hunger.
Originally Enki was considered instead of Cahara, but ultimately was not included to keep Marina's own interaction and interest in the occult unique to herself without feeling too similar in their gimmicks.
Cahara's perk set was developed with the mindset of "freedom of mobility" where no place is off limits, and outpacing most others frequently.

CREDITS

All references to Fear & Hunger, Cahara, Marina Domek, Gro-goroth, and usage of other such characters and names belong to Miro Haverinen.
Dead by Daylight - "Fear and Hunger" Chapter Chase and Menu Theme (Fan Made) was created by SavageD and used with permission. The thumbnail for the video (used in Bonus Content & The Old God portrait render) features artwork from Estacadoth, also used with permission.
Image renders used for Cahara and Marina's portraits are from Fear & Hunger and Fear & Hunger 2: Termina respectively.
Perk, power, and add-on icons as well as their descriptions, lore sections and effects were created by WheatDraws using the Fear & Hunger franchise.
Other image assets, such as icon backgrounds, portrait backgrounds and other such assets from Dead by Daylight belong to Behaviour Interactive.

Prehevil was hellish.

People with strange burns, violent individuals roaming the streets, bludgeoned flesh and mutated physiques, all because of Termina. She felt disturbed by the state of her home, by the state of Prehevil's nature beneath the trickster God's influence. A contestant herself, she felt some level of confliction about what was to happen, or if she'd even take part.

Luckily, she was prepared more than others to survive in such a concerning state of the world. Her talents and interest in occultism allowed her to recognize some of the signs, to use her abilities and spells to protect herself and others, though it didn't hurt to have more knowledge.

That's exactly what she thought when she came across a carving in the walls of an abandoned home, seeing strange limbs with knots in them, spiked and curled in odd patterns. She's never seen anything of this kind, many symbols of the Gods both new and old were not as... hostile looking. More simple. This was specific.

Hours pass.

Marina sat, dejected and frustrated with Daan while seated at a small corner of the bar they had recovered and settled into. While the others spoke and talked casually to return to some semblance of normalcy, she took the knife she had used in dire defense multiple times before, gently carving away into part of the bar where Daan couldn't see. He did, but he didn't pay her mind. It seemed to let her quietly work away at her mind.

The world around Marina blurred, but her focus was unmoving, unshaken, and resolute. She carved every recreation delicately into the top of the bar as the sound of sliding glass and small laughs from others across the bar felt more and more distant. It was like a trance. All it took was a numbed hand to finish, the final thin strip of wood carved away by the knife's sharpened edge to accidentally slip, causing her relaxed seat against the bar to slip briefly and knocking her back awake.

She staggered, as if feeling like she was falling from a great height suddenly, only to discover herself standing upright in the middle of nowhere. Grass, dark trees, and a clear sky.

No Rher. No nothing. She wasn't even in Prehevil, she should recognize the woods.

"H... hello?" She looked around, feeling an unknown gravity, different from the dreams and different from Prehevil. She knew she was somewhere, but knew nothing of this God she had invoked. Her fist tightened only to feel her own palm, realizing she was no longer holding the knife. Panic set in, and the sound of rustling leaves and the crunch of twigs she could hear only ten paces away, a figure staggering out from the treeline with a sickly expression she did not recognize.

"Did she go out to find that bottle she was looking for?" Daan said, expressing more concern than disgust.

"Hm? Marina?" O'ssa spoke up from his seat, looking to the bar then quickly to the exit he was seated by. "I didn't even see her leave."

Daan's eyebrows furrowed, concern drawing on his face as he looked to the abandoned knife on the bar, the unrecognizable symbol in the wood left behind. His stomach sank, and he could not explain why.

LINKS & MEDIA

Chase and Menu Themes

DEV NOTES

First Published: September 9th, 2024
Last Updated: March 29th, 2025

Marina Domek was always my pick for Fear & Hunger 2: Termina representation, both as the "box art" character and arguably the most popular character in the game on top of a notable use of in-canon occultism that had me fascinated by her.
Occult Ward is directly inspired by and based on the Anniversary Invite effects for Survivors.
Dark Destiny was originally a very early iteration of Kyle Reese's "Turn the Tide" perk, but I had scrapped that version for not fitting the idea I had in mind for "fighting back against the Entity" since it felt more like being in-tune with. Here though, it felt right at home for Marina.
Invocation: Group Engraving was a means of making an invocation with very minor benefits that not everyone will get, but would passively help survivability compared to the very impactful possibilities of Invocation: Weaving Spiders.

CREDITS

All references to Fear & Hunger, Cahara, Marina Domek, Gro-goroth, and usage of other such characters and names belong to Miro Haverinen.
Dead by Daylight - "Fear and Hunger" Chapter Chase and Menu Theme (Fan Made) was created by SavageD and used with permission. The thumbnail for the video (used in Bonus Content & The Old God portrait render) features artwork from Estacadoth, also used with permission.
Image renders used for Cahara and Marina's portraits are from Fear & Hunger and Fear & Hunger 2: Termina respectively.
Perk, power, and add-on icons as well as their descriptions, lore sections and effects were created by WheatDraws using the Fear & Hunger franchise.
Other image assets, such as icon backgrounds, portrait backgrounds and other such assets from Dead by Daylight belong to Behaviour Interactive.

The Old Gods are not personas, nor are they singular individuals. They are a sky that wraps around a world, a layer that is impossible to remove from reality completely.

Realities without these layers often are better off, or the layer is opaque enough to be understood as something else or perhaps have so little effect it's considered a miracle by some cases.

Gro-goroth, a comet of destruction, of power, grazed through the layers of these realities as his presence permeates throughout the world. All it took was for a wayward ritual circle symbol to consider an alternative, to bring a new layer into the fold. Upon contact, Gro-goroth's own presence briefly graced The Entity.

In the dark starless skies, a violent surge of red light, crimson and violent streaked through the veil. Just as soon as it arrived, it left, like two ships passing in the night, barely avoiding one another, the screams of grinding wood and steel replaced with those veils tearing into each other, conflicting and sparking in cosmic color. This was not without a result, however.

Gro-goroth left, leaving a rift in the sky, his presence snagged onto the dark abyss of space above the Entity's realm, dropping and falling to the earth like a meteor, a singular trace of the Old God itself, infantile and weak. Barely divine, only a forgotten injury left behind to grow on its own, a small shimmer of Gro-goroth left within the world of the Entity.

It grows quickly, developing, empowering itself steadily. Soon, this will be no trace, but an Old God in full form, beyond physical, beyond a force of nature and reality. It will encompass the world, another opaque layer, all started because of a cosmic coincidence.

Like many things, from the felling of a tree, to the implosion of a universe, and even the falling of an eyelash, it all comes down to great coincidence.

torn poem page
lucky coin
studies of gro-goroth
pinecone pig
scroll of the dark arts
99 eyes mask
prehevil notice
scorched head
unrecognizable organ
whip of needles
stitched flesh
salmonsnake rune
skin bible
eye of sylvian
moonless fang
book of blood & flower magic
ancient tome
cube of the depths
tormented muscle
iridescent eclipse talisman

LINKS & MEDIA

Chase and Menu Themes

dev notes

First Published: September 9th, 2024
Last Updated: March 29th, 2025

Hex: Impending Demise was originally designed as a means of referencing the in-game timer that begins at the start of the game for a story event later in Fear & Hunger.
Cruel Siphon's original iteration gave you tokens for every meter you were from the point of injury, which was a sort of measurement tool for ranged attacks, which as neat as it was, made the wording and design of the perk clunky. Ultimately giving you a larger benefit for distance however stuck with the perk.

CREDITS

All references to Fear & Hunger, Cahara, Marina Domek, Gro-goroth, and usage of other such characters and names belong to Miro Haverinen.
Dead by Daylight - "Fear and Hunger" Chapter Chase and Menu Theme (Fan Made) was created by SavageD and used with permission. The thumbnail for the video (used in Bonus Content & The Old God portrait render) features artwork from Estacadoth, also used with permission.
Image renders used for Cahara and Marina's portraits are from Fear & Hunger and Fear & Hunger 2: Termina respectively.
Perk, power, and add-on icons as well as their descriptions, lore sections and effects were created by WheatDraws using the Fear & Hunger franchise.
Other image assets, such as icon backgrounds, portrait backgrounds and other such assets from Dead by Daylight belong to Behaviour Interactive.

The girl didn't know what was happening, everything was too fast. She was fleeing safety with her mother, the reality of the situation not told her her even as a six year old girl.

Like a crack of lightning, she was separated on the road eastward, never to see her mother again.

Years later, the girl was given a name by the lady of the house, a private collector who taught her french and to tend the gardens. Adeline would be her name, but Adeline would not have a maternal figure in this woman. She did her errands and chores without much complaint, coasting on a poor existence in servitude before one day, the collector had received a slab of bone at her door. Everyone marveled at it, Adeline included, entranced by it. The girl, however, was forbidden from touching it, and eventually, from seeing it. In halls of rare artifacts and relics across the world, this one was kept in the cellar, deep below the ground. Strangers arrived in the night and worked in the cellar tirelessly, Adeline was no longer given cohesive directions or orders. The collector, this woman was entranced by this slab. One night, the doors of the house were fully locked, Adeline sealed inside but forbidden to leave, however she knew of a loose window that could lead her to the cold night air of the French countryside.

Adeline found herself in her nightgown, kneeling in the grass and dirt, peering through a window on the exterior of the estate. In the once full cellar, the bone slab was chiseled away, revealing an almost elegant human form in it. The collector and her gathering stared in awe, speaking words Adeline could not make out. She tried getting closer, barely making out any details other than a violent flash of light and cacophony of screams. Before Adeline could understand the sight she saw, she felt blinded in her eye, reeling on the green grass as she stumbled to her knees, crawling away. The headache of a lifetime to put it lightly struck her mind, one hand cupping over the eye she was blinded with. Flashes and visions of something filled her mind, her body in autopilot as she staggered away from the estate in the night, barely able to feel the tears on her own cheeks as she cried helplessly and deliriously. She passed out to unconsciousness, seeing a dull void of energy and color around her. She walked through it like a spectre, seeing bodies and shapes of people aimlessly moving, eyes of a crystal blue... She could feel herself getting cold.

As she stirred in her sleep, she awoke to a pounding in her head, her nightgown dirtied more than before. The trees she vaguely remembered passing out around were now razed, cut down to size. The sound of distant explosions filled the air.

. . .

Adeline, now forty years old awoke from this nightmare. It was the only dream she had that wasn't in the other place. The Void, as she learned it to be.

Her determination was unwavering, she spent her whole life readying for this. She found herself in the depths of a mineshaft, partly collapsed and abandoned for decades. No one would find her or It here. No one else would have to go.

She shredded and destroyed the last of her research notes, vowing no other should follow her tracks or face the secrets she saw. The cruel deeds that took place because of it. She thought of that poor boy, the one she saw in her dreams in The Void. She thought of Ysabella and her heart broke in two all over again. It took several minutes to compose herself before wiping her face and filling her lungs with the certainly stale air as the last paper detailing the beautiful form of the idol made of bone was torn into dozens of pieces, scattered and dropped into a pot of water.

Adeline stood up, approaching the table with a tired look, but resolute stature. She gazed upon it, the item she sought, the Artefact that cursed her so long ago. She found it, made of ore and dark stone, digging it out after trespassing upon the old MacMillan land. In the shape of it, she made a smooth idol, jagged in form, completing every step anyone else made, but willingly. This was her decision, and she could feel the friction against her desire and Its power.

"No more games. No more sacrifices." Adeline said, staring at her own warped reflection in the smooth ore and stone. "You're my ticket in." Adeline took the chisel and stabbed into her own hand, whining in pain as she could feel the pulsating energy around her. She was not guessing anymore, she had her discoveries long ago. The way to draw attention, the way to get in.

If she couldn't get in through the Void directly to save those lost to the idol, she would go in through the backdoor. The only backdoor.

The whispers and hisses of the idol emanated, tethers of energy whipping out from it as small stones vibrating and hovering around them. "With my blood spilt, and with this idol chosen..." She hissed through gritted teeth. The pain in her eye burned, tears leaving and mixing with red as she stared down the Artefact.

"I invoke the Entity."

A violent fog vented out from the mines, authorities scrambled above the surface, but deep below, the last traces of Adeline Garnier and a cursed idol both disappeared together, pulled in by the dark. Adeline, willingly. The idol, closer than it ever was to its point of origin with no way out.

If Adeline could not succeed in bringing out those lost, she could at least rid the world of the curse that bound her to it.

Characters Featured in this tome

The Fires Eternal

Adeline woke from her sleep, heart racing as she shook off the feeling of the Void's clutches, yet another visit in to seek out more information for the Void, but this time she felt... strange.

She never considered herself someone to be friends with, but across her sporadic dreams, she met one who seemed to be stuck in the Void, not as a soul or spirit, but as a whole person. Changed by it, even. Pietro, this young man, cowering anytime she turned up, looking so frail. Adeline had to steel herself, reminding herself of the mission she set herself on.

Several days into travelling, she had woken up in Switzerland again, feeling as if she can gain some slight control over her ability, even as it was still unwilling in its occurrence. Just as she made her way down familiar roads, Adeline could see the once-familiar town up in arms, shouting and watching on as the square boasted several figures, one of which had strikingly familiar blonde hair.

Ysabella.

Adeline pushed through the crowd, her head pounding and ears ringing intensely. She shouted over the crowd to no avail, trying to get close to the platform as Ysabella shouted back over the crowd. She couldn't see her. She couldn't see her. Adeline, desperate to save her one friend she could count on, the one anchor in this world she had, reached out as the ringing of her mind reached a tipping point and suddenly everything erupted.

People scattered like ash to the wind, their screams permeating longer than any physical essence did. Adeline pushed back against the rush of energy and air, barely able to stand upright as the blood in her veins boiled, her one eye alight like fire as it had before many times, but not while she was so aware, so conscious.

The Void. She could feel it, physically, on her body. It was all around in this maelstrom of energy, burning and charring buildings nearby. Adeline could feel reality shift around her, a feeling she could only recall in some dreams when she moved through time. She was being pulled away, and where she was, Ysabella was being pulled in. She screamed once again, shouting in desperation for Ysabella to hear her, but before she knew it she no longer was coated in the ghostly blue light and instead choking on more ash and waves of heat, baking her alive within her outfit.

Adeline fell to her knees, sputtering and falling ankle-deep into chips of wood and ash. When her vision returned, the ringing softening, she found herself around unfamiliar buildings coated in red and black. Ahead of her, the glow of red and orange painted the sky. A sky made of smoke and fire...

A city stood before her, choked in the eruption of a volcano. Adeline coughed, pulling herself up and covering her face as she tried to find anybody who was around. Anyone alive.

Instead, she could hear distant echoes in her mind, pains she never had before. Whispers of a rite, of protection in her mind. As her eye seared, she realized her body was still enveloped by the Void's power, even more than before. It was like a layer of constantly moving air beneath her flesh, but she had heard these incantations before.

The Artefact was here. Somewhere.

Adeline looked toward the burning remains of Oplontis, realizing as she got closer to finally freeing herself of this curse, tracking this idol, she could not leave Ysabella to the Void.

After an hour of seeking shelter and listening to the whispers, hearing a woman conduct the rite and her ensuing death, she could feel the Artefact pull itself away from this time and disaster, but like a string connecting them, Adeline could will herself to follow... and so she did, leaving the eruption and doomed city behind.

RELATED CONCEPTS

"Adeline" Early Concept Art

DEV NOTES

First Published: October 28th, 2024
Last Updated: November 14th, 2024

Adeline was modelled after inspirations such as detectives and investigators like Lee Harker from Longlegs and Clarice Starling from Silence of the Lambs with an outfit similar to a sort of "unassuming traveler" to fit her story so the blends into nearly any time period.
While Adeline as a character wasn't always figured out since the start, she can be noticed in small mentions or suggestions in previous original chapters I've created.
Adeline's story is throughout many interactions, which will be explored further in archive entries, often in different time periods overall.

CREDITS

The characters "Adeline Garnier" and "The Witch" as well as their concept art were created by WheatDraws.
Perk, power, and add-on icons as well as their descriptions, lore sections and effects were created by WheatDraws.
Other image assets, such as icon backgrounds, portrait backgrounds and other such assets from Dead by Daylight belong to Behaviour Interactive.

Ysabella Rohner was a woman of privlege, and even after her husband's passing, both his and her reputations allowed them to be regarded highly in their hometown. Ysabella was able to retain her estate even while unmarried, but tensions brewed as the years went on. She saw people persecuted for their cultures and attempts at seeking refuge, both outsiders not from Switzerland and those not of her status or a woman like her. So, she in secret, sheltered those in the once empty and vacant halls of her home, providing a rest stop to those who needed it. She met many who needed the help, and though she was a woman of science and medicine, she knew some of her practices would draw the eyes of those who would see a woman with the desire to act against the norm as heresy.

As those with illness and developing traumas became worse, she found it more difficult to treat and care for them, but one day a woman by the name of Adeline arrived at her home, not seeking refuge, but asked for a woman that had stayed there. Ysabella was not willing to part with such information, but Adeline insisted she knew who she was, but meant no harm. With some convincing, Adeline insisted she could help care for the ill and sick in her home, better than any physician could. Ysabella needed the assistance, and so she allowed the stranger in. To her surprise, Adeline was incredible, able to discover treatments she hadn't considered in her studies.

Adeline didn't stay for long, but promised to return sometime if possible, and true to her word, she did. It wasn't frequent, it was either gaps of months, weeks, sometimes hours, or upward of a year total. Each time she returned though, Adeline asked for the same woman as before, but Ysabella still never had encountered her. Even then, Adeline was kindhearted and willing to teach. Even as Ysabella developed her skills, Adeline spoke to her in confidence of things unheard of. Flashes of lights, powers, and of moving through time... Frankly, Ysabella didn't believe it, but she knew Adeline was special.

They formed a strong bond as time went on, and eventually Ysabella felt the pressure of mobs and executions, fearing for her own life and those she protected. Adeline saw this and reassured her, even leaving with her notes of those practices she made notes of, both alchemical and magickal in nature. Ways to heal, to deter, and to protect. Small effects that would be easy to train and practice, though Adeline gave warning to not overdo it. Accusations of witchcraft were abound.

Ysabella was left alone for years after though, no Adeline in sight. She needed to treat and help people, to protect them as she was threatened to lose her home if she was caught with more foreign travelers in her home. She carved sigils and symbols, her interest turning to this strange power that must be hoarded away in the dark.

Eventually though, it was too late. At her door, accusations of her practicing witchcraft bombarded her, the claims of a woman saying she saw her scrawl in her journal and cause lights of the devil to form. Ysabella denied, but her home was stormed, innocents were discovered in small rooms still sleeping in the early morning. She grew anxious, only realizing the accusation must have been someone who saw her as they found her journal tucked beneath the floorboards. Filled on each page, dissections and arrays of symbols that were easily declared as the work of the devil.

Ysabella was pulled out of her house, shouting and screaming, demanding the freedom of those she promised safety, forced into the stocks at the center of the town. The evidence was damning, the holy men recited their words as Ysabella panicked. She searched for some way out, some means of at least getting those alongside her free. Desperately, she cut into her palm with her fingernails, releasing blood as it dripped down her hand and wrist, trying to carve delicate shapes and lines into the only surface she could.

The crowd screamed and shouted, the holy men spoke their words to condemn the devil within her. As she struggled to adjust her thumb, carving the last line she could into a sigil she had only theorized, she violently pulled her hand against its restraint, skin scraping and grinding against metal. Like a cornered animal, Ysabella eventually howled with a scream, frightening the crowd as skin ripped and tore, the quick crunch of her bones as she slipped the hand out of its now bloody restraint.

Quickly, she was rushed, an attempt to restrain her was made, but she was far more desperate, for more willing to sacrifice herself. Her free hand cut its nail into the restrained palm, and like a match striking oil, the world was encased in a blue flame unlike she had never seen. Ysabella's nerves felt dead, her body outpouring energy all around as bodied looked to have dusted into nothing.

She couldn't even understand what had happened, but her palms were the only sensation she felt. A constant outpouring of energy, burning at the only nerves she could feel. All around her, ruinous structures, the shapes of people, air polluted with a gray dust. Then, the whispers started.

For years, Ysabella's attempt at freedom locked her away in this purgatory, her mind reeling from whispers of damned souls and the shapes of what were once people, driving her mad. The whispers turned against her, misremembering her life. Try as she might, the memory of her husband turned to ash in her mouth. The memory of Adeline soured her mind, believing she had turned against her, told the town of her secrets.

Were it not for this magick from her hands, the cracks in her skin and body would've caused her to crumple to the design of purgatory, but her vengeance persisted, keeping her together.

Many years later, all it took was a gap in the Void, an opening into an unfamiliar woodland for Ysabella to emerge, the clinking lock of her stocks, the slight limp of her step, and the loose flesh around her liberated wrist feeling cool air for the first time. She looked upon four people, seeing the faces and hearing the mob... Her anger swelled, her fingernails, stained with blood, dug back into her palms again.

simple remedy
husband's ring
dust of the void
witch-hunt notices
ysabella's old diary
blood from the palm
lost doll
tears from the eye
void realm crystal
advanced remedy
bulb from the void
pamphlet of confidence
smuggled medical studies
crimes of the witch
alchemical instruction
idol illustration
sleeve of skin
secret journal
void realm lattice
indecipherable sigil

CHARACTERS FEATURED IN THIS TOME

Eyes in the Dark

Ysabella was alone. She had those within her guest rooms, under the guise of friends and travelers, but it wasn't a friendship or companion. They sought her as safety, a refuge, a savior. She wasn't even able to converse with them usually, either from this power imbalance, or most commonly, the language barrier.

Ysabella looked to her desk, seeing the book of writings and research before her. Those fascinating, dark sigils still seared into her mind. Their potential was immense, but no one would hear her for fear of accusations or belief in true witchcraft. Adeline was a gift in her presence, but without her, it felt like a lonely world. Ysabella poured over the pages of documentation, the sigils, and inspecting them. She was warned before about their power, so she only practiced in small amounts often when all others who sought shelter in her home were asleep.

Ysabella wanted to glimpse that power, to see it, channel it maybe. While Adeline had shown her medicine and practices she had not considered before, ways to treat the ill and less fortunate, her mind could not help but wander to consider how these arcane magicks would be used for good.

All she needed was a look, a chance to comprehend, but Adeline did not show up frequently. She travelled, rarely sticking around for longer than a week at a time. It had been nearly two years since her last visit, and Ysabella's curiosity gnawed at her until she finally laid the book open, a piece of chalk held in hand.

Carefully, she designed and recreated aspects of the sigil she had seen, trying to make a limited window into the magick itself.

After hours of attempts, she was successful.

The sigil surged with power, pouring out slowly like an oil that dissipated into the air. The room was illuminated by a pale blue light, and within Ysabella could feel the static aura of it all against her body. It was intoxicating, but she felt some concern as she swore in the sound of the magick, a shrill shriek, some sort of decrepit body lurking in its shape.

Just as she investigated, the door to her office creaked, causing Ysabella to stumble, her hand disrupting the chalk sigil on the floorboards, the energy blowing back and causing a surge of wind throughout the space.

Ysabella, frustrated at the result, turned her head to see the door cracked open, two small silvery-dots gleaming in the darkness at about knee height. Before she could open the door fully, she heard the rush of someone else's footsteps approaching, throwing open the door with her panic and frustration pumping blood into herself.

Before her, a small girl being picked up by a woman. She took them in over a week ago, and from what she could tell, they were aiming to head to France. Ysabella knew the woman saw nothing, but the girl...

Brown eyes. They kept eye contact, even as the mother tried to speak, explaining or apologizing. Ysabella spoke nothing of the woman's tongue, but could recognize it just barely in the intent. The girl still looked at her with a mix of awe and possible fear as Ysabella looked down over the two, stunned and unsure of what to do. The girl had seen too much, but what could she even do?

Ysabella swallowed, her fingers gripping her door tightly, still standing in the light of her room.

"Get out." It took a few moments before she could muster any response, and she couldn't risk the girl seeing any more. With any hope, the child didn't comprehend what she saw. Ysabella repeated herself, and the mother with her child in arms scattered, rushing to make her way out of the home into the early morning.

Ysabella cleared the room, sealing away the book while cursing herself for being so reckless, so impatient... but her mind was fixated. Left by the fleeing mother and her child, she saw a small doll in the hallway. No matter what she did, Ysabella could not escape the sight of the girl. The child and her eyes...

The only thing that broke her out of this lock of the mind was loud slamming on the door of her home hours later.

media & links

chapter key art render
"The Witch" Final Design
"The Witch" Early Concept Art 1
"The Witch" Early Concept Art 2

dev notes

First Published: October 28th, 2024
Last Updated: November 14th, 2024

The Witch's design I wanted originally to have more vibrant and bright colors, contrasting to standard Killer looks and being representative to Switzerland dresses of the era. While I landed on more cooler colors, I didn't want her to end up too dirty or filthy, but more distressed or visibly off compared to the early concept art exploration.
Part of The Witch's design was influenced by Darkest Dungeon's The Prophet boss who also is stuck in stocks with one hand free. For a long time I wanted to involve stocks or pillory to a character design, and The Witch felt like an interesting way to let the character also have a unique silhouette.

credits

The characters "Adeline Garnier" and "The Witch" as well as their concept art were created by WheatDraws.
Chapter Key Art render was commissioned by me and illustrated by ew0512.
Perk, power, and add-on icons as well as their descriptions, lore sections and effects were created by WheatDraws.
Other image assets, such as icon backgrounds, portrait backgrounds and other such assets from Dead by Daylight belong to Behaviour Interactive.

Soaring through a near infinite cosmos, breaking apart through the particles of space, formations of a dark, dead planet streaked across multiple worlds, unseen to any.

In the infinite, it found a gap, that alien stone, infested with a sole survivor.

Burning not through atmosphere, but the auric-makeup of the Entity, scarring through an open wound as it buried itself deep like an arrowhead before cratering into the cold, dark woodland.

Amongst the fire of the crash and the dirt cloud formed, a shame emerged. It looked as if the fallen meteor grew something from its insides, but as those who looked on noticed it.

"What is that?"

The first words to be spoken by onlookers and the first disturbance noticed by the monster. Amongst the screams, the monster itself would never know peace, never know sanctuary, stranded from the rest of its kind.

bag of chips
sand pile
broadcast keys
soundproof box
shredded car door
removed battery
meteorite chunk
ripped fabric
raccoon carcass
oxygen tank
beau's hat
autumn leaf
kitchen timer
toy rocket ship
canvas tote bag
faulty processor
can and bottle trap
bell-lined netting
iridescent red bulb
extraterrestrial sustenance

extra media

dev notes

First Published: January 1st, 2025
Last Updated: January 1st, 2025

credits

The sound of heavy metal fans sparked as they came to a slow spin behind their ventilation covers. Behind that, just out of sight from the USG Ishimura, was a monstrous figure, crawling unseen.

Moving between the massacres on different levels and piles of death, the betrayal of the human form sought out the lingering sounds that echoed through the hall. The whine and pain of one in particular caused a shudder of the muscular system, nerves to fire and twitch as the creature found an opening in the vent system.

With small clicks of bone claws touching metal, emerging from the shadows, the shape of the creature shambled toward the noise, rounding the metal corridor to the sight of a man laying down and crawling forward with a dense fog swallowing him at his calves, rapidly overtaking the body itself.

Just as the skulking monstrosity rushed forward to rip apart the barely-living survivor, it had stumbled into the fog-filled hallway, finding the shape of the ship had changed nearly immediately. Gross, brutish sounds screeched from its open maw, turning to locate its victim again, but finding the cold air on its body shifting to a soft breeze, blowing in a new direction. Its head turned, seeing the shape of more humans around a fire talking amongst themselves softly.

The nerves in its misshapen body fired again, twitching and ready to rip into more muscle and flesh.

necromorph limb
damaged panel
caged candle
scattered gore
heat accumulator
semiconductor, bronze
usg ishimura patch
inoperable tram car
leaper fangs
lurker tendril
stasis pack
compromised gas pipeline
kyne's medicine
extracted ore
nuclear warhead
singularity core
hunter claw
semiconductor, ruby
leviathan cyst
iridescent marker piece

extra media

DEAD SPACE CHAPTER CONCEPT MUSIC

DEV NOTES

First Published: February 24th, 2025
Last Updated: February 24th, 2025

The inital draft for all of The Necromorph's add-ons were based on the idea of corpses or harvested from the corpses of something. To elaborate, this includes both the types of necromorphs that exist and the USG Ishimura itself, since I consider it to be a character all its own and you spend the entire game travelling around its innards as an engineer.

CREDITS

All references to Dead Space, Isaac Clarke, Necromorphs, and usage of other such characters and names belong to Electronic Arts.
Image renders used for The Necromorph and Isaac Clarke's portraits were edited from screenshots from Dead Space Remake.
Perk, power, and add-on icons as well as their descriptions, lore sections and effects were created by WheatDraws using their respective IP.
Other image assets, such as icon backgrounds, portrait backgrounds and other such assets from Dead by Daylight belong to Behaviour Interactive.

Isaac swung the defective plasma cutter at the staggering necromorph's skull, knocking it down with the swing of his arm. Once down, he brought his boot up and slammed it, again and again, until he could feel the gore and bone flatten between his foot and the metal floor beneath it.

Huffing, breathing heavily, Isaac looked around at the chaotic mess of viscera around him, seeing vents broken open, busted supply water pipes spewing a mist in the air, and the damage of his last few shots with his tools lingering on the industrial walls.

Isaac finally had a moment to breathe, but he had to keep moving. He attempted to call Hammond, but couldn't get anything to actually send. Just as the adrenaline started to come down, a sharp pain stung into Isaac's back, causing him to wince and clutch, finding an impaling spike that had damaged the spine of his own RIG.

He couldn't call for any navigation, or any help. He could only hear his own breathing, feel the warmth of it, and the realization of his state.

He settled against the wall, trying to relieve any amount of pressure he could while seeking for an answer.

"Come on..." He looked to his trembling hand as it met his helmet, struggling for the first few moments to find the right points, but finally pulling off the protective headwear, letting it clatter to the floor in the shallow puddle of water the busted pipes had formed by now.

The mist became thicker, the moisture filling the hallway aboard the USG Ishimura, leaving Isaac to succumb to the weight of his own body, falling over onto the ground in a loud grunt of pain. It was burning, and he at least was thirty meters from the closest medical station.

Desperately, he grabbed at whatever he could, pulling himself along in a bloody smear across the ground marking his way. Seconds felt like minutes, and minutes felt like hours as his vision blurred and distorted, the colors of bluelight and orangelight screens flooding his eyes as he travelled. He had to keep going.

He didn't know where he was just yet, and didn't notice the change in ground beneath him in this critical condition he was in. He felt something like a root in the ground, pulling himself along and over it before the shape of unfamiliar people loomed above.

Not monstrous, so good. Maybe. He couldn't even muster a small word as his face was half-lidded, staring skyward into unfamiliar stars as strangers around him shouted in unclear words, calling for medical supplies. Before he went unconscious, the Isaac thought of Nicole and focused on whatever he could. As darkness overtook his vision and the nudges of people addressing his wounds rocked his body, he could hear the distant crackle of fire.

extra media

DEAD SPACE CHAPTER CONCEPT MUSIC

dev notes

First Published: February 24th, 2025
Last Updated: February 24th, 2025

credits

All references to Dead Space, Isaac Clarke, Necromorphs, and usage of other such characters and names belong to Electronic Arts.
Image renders used for The Necromorph and Isaac Clarke's portraits were edited from screenshots from Dead Space Remake.
Perk, power, and add-on icons as well as their descriptions, lore sections and effects were created by WheatDraws using their respective IP.
Other image assets, such as icon backgrounds, portrait backgrounds and other such assets from Dead by Daylight belong to Behaviour Interactive.

Pietro knew struggle all his life, but being surrounded by love and family helped smooth it over. His grandparents and parents came to America from Camorra when political tensions started to brew, threatening their safety. America seemed like the best place to start, considering the many Italians like them who had arrived before them.

Despite them arriving in America for new opportunity, they still faced challenges of discrimination, the only homes they could afford was a poorly kept, cheap apartment. Faced with these challenges, the Bassi family stayed strong, and into the world came Pietro, a healthy baby boy and his younger brother several years later, Antonio.

Pietro found himself alone most days, but an unlikely friend by the name of Abe helped him with his bike when he took a bad slip on the way home from school one day. Abe had a similar relationship to the world that Pietro had, a place that looked down at him for not being white with no space to find kindness as someone interested in work. A world that saw people like them and assumed the worst of what they’d end up being. Pietro was glad to have someone to confide in and know that it wasn’t just him or his heritage that was a problem. If they were gonna be in a tough world, it was better to survive it together, back-to-back.

Even with this confidence, times didn’t get much easier for the young man. He couldn’t finish his third year of high school, his father took a bad fall while moving furniture, permanently hindering his ability to walk. Antonio had to be taken to school still, which Pietro made sure happened, but his mother was falling apart at the seams to make ends meet. At 19, Pietro finally got a lucky break, both him and Abe, his best friend.

Ronnie’s Auto, a small auto shop business just a few hours walk away from home, was hiring. Pietro was nervous about applying, both for himself and Abe, but Abe reassured him. He even said he could pass enough by introducing himself as ‘Pete’ or ‘Peter’.

Thankfully, the owner Ronald Martin was open to hearing the young men speak their mind. About ten, twenty minutes passed and the man stood up from his desk with a smile and outstretched hand to both.

The roar and cheers of the boys could be heard all across town as they celebrated, and so they returned home, ready to be working men and make the most of this opportunity.

A couple years have passed.

Pietro, going by Pete to many outside his family, worked full time now at the auto shop. He was underpaid, but he got to work with his best friend. That is, until one day, Pietro gets a call at home on an off-day from Abe’s father, who he then calls Ronald at the auto shop. Abe was missing, his own bike found on the road out of town. Pietro was shaken and fearful, but he knew Abe wouldn’t have left, or gotten himself taken without a fight. It weighed on his mind, more than the mountain of overdue bills for his household.

During family dinner, the Bassi house phone rings loudly, answered by Pietro. Keeping the debate down to a minimum, he talks with his mother about leaving, hushed whispers about taking late shifts for the needed pay, covering for Abe until he gets back. It’s a hard argument for Teresa to win, but Pietro lets her know he’ll be back home, just late is all. With a reassuring hug, kiss, and farewell to everyone, he left on his bike.

What remains is the summary of witness testimonies and the investigation of the murder and disappearance of Abraham J. Henry and Pietro T. Bassi presented at the trial of one Ronald F. Martin.

At approximately 10:16pm, Pietro Bassi arrived at Ronnie’s Auto. He brought his bike inside, as he always did, and tried looking for Ronald Martin. The lights were off, but the building was unlocked. An eyewitness on the street says through the windows they could make out some struggle, like someone was being restrained.

A surviving person of the incident had their account recorded nearly a week after their hospitalization.

This individual claims to be affiliated with Ronald Martin, and had personally put a bag over Pietro Bassi’s head before helping to bring him down into the basement storage of the building. Police have no recollection of knowing this underground space was on the premises prior to the incident. The anonymous witness says they had kept Abraham there and presented both, bound and gagged before a stone slab with various items on it of various materials. An unidentified object, approximately the size of a standing child was upright and center, a “carving of stone” according to the individual that Ronald Martin had chiseled out himself. It appeared to have an open mouth and eye sockets, like the upper half of a human body with various jagged points pointed outward from this object called “the maw” by the individual.

Abraham had been ritually cut, stabbed, and mutilated before this statue-like figure, and was identified by family. His recounting has not yet been able to be recorded. As he bled out, the individual helped to bring Pietro to the slab, and Ronald had spoken, said something that the witness could not recollect before cutting into his arms, tearing into his shirt, and then piercing into the middle of his palm. From here, the individual suffered a blow to the head from a flying object, and claims this “maw” had come alive and slaughtered all twenty-three other members of their “American Preservationist Club”, leaving the crime scene we know. Many bodies have been identified, though not all. The noise attracted residents who approached cautiously, seeing a wounded and staggering Ronald Martin, covered in blood and visibly shaken, muttering something about “Pete’s screams”. Since then, he’s been non-verbal and refuses to communicate.

As of now, we cannot determine the fate of Mr. Pietro T. Bassi, as no evidence was found aside from the torn shirt sleeve and his bike. The only suggestion that Pietro Bassi was still in that basement when Ronald Martin emerged was residents claiming “they could hear someone screaming, as if from miles away before it suddenly stopped”.

CHARACTERS FEATURED IN THIS TOME

PARADOX TOME COSMETIC - "Tormented Recluse"

Unfamiliar Friend

Pietro felt cold. Colder than any winter, more than any windy day. He drowned out the sound, the whispers and voices in his mind with a quaking in his skin, like the muscles underneath it were going to erupt out from it. The only warmth was in the cut of his palm, like a massive gash, exposed to the air around him.

Pietro swallowed as he sat, curled against the base of the stone wall, looking down at the dusty earth, away from the haunting skies and hues around him.

"Pietro?" A soft voice spoke, but startled him as he scurried, kicking wildly away.

"Pietro!" She spoke again, the woman lowered herself to her knees, stopping from approaching. "Pietro, it's me..."

Her words burned in his hand like a fury, a poison spreading into his nerves as he scampered away, kicking up dust and dirt in his attempt of fleeing to a nearby collapsed wall. "Get away from me!" A small, dug-out hideaway was underneath it. Pietro housed and shielded himself like a hermit, scraping his arms and knees to get under in such a record time to cover in the darkness, the soft illumination of his hand his only light as the wetness of his eyes provided the only comfort to him now, proof he hid away.

Even from here, in the gap he created as he cowered, he could see her. A woman, dressed in a coat and pants, no wardrobe he had ever seen before. She had a tired face for someone so young, and reminded him of his mother.

"Pietro." She spoke softly, carefully. Her eye burned at him despite the softness. Just the one, and he felt afraid. Her voice warbled, as if distorted.

"We... haven't met yet have we?" She knelt down, a foot or so away from the entrance to his sanctuary, away from the moaning figures and screeching shapes around him. They seemed unphased by the woman's presence.

She looked scared, almost resigning to the situation. "You won't believe me, but we are good friends. We've met before, many, many times..." She lowered her head, eyes easier to peer into the darkness, making out the shape of Pietro beneath the ruin. "I'm Adeline. You and I told each other stories to make ourselves feel safe here."

Pietro never met a woman, never heard of her before or the way she spoke. It sounded so alien to him, but the comfort betrayed his fear as he quietly sobbed and pressed his back firmly into the ashen dirt. He thought to his mother again.

"L-like what?" He asked, voice echoing out from under. Adeline smiled, and for the first time in a long time, Pietro didn't feel so cold.

"We spoke of our mothers. You told me your mother was so dedicated and loving, and how you learned sewing just to help fix up her old dress for a parade she wanted to go to as a surprise." Adeline's voice cut through the noise, the memory flooded into his mind.

. . .

"Isn't that gross?" The voice of a young boy said, sitting on the floor as his small fingers fiddled with the texture of a dial on the radio.

"Gross?" Pietro laughed, smiling as he hesitated again, trying to shake off nerves as he held a needle in one hand, the baby blue fabric in the other. "Someday you'll realize why ma likes me more." The young man smiled, giving his younger brother a nudge as he settled the radio finally on music. "Just don't tell ma about it, okay? I don't care how 'gross' you think I am for wanting to let her go out for a bit, but it's a surprise. Got it?"

. . .

Pietro's mind faded, remembering only how Antonio just ignored him, like it was a secret he already forgot while they worked in their room, ready at a moment's notice to hide the dress back into the box before stuffing it under the bed.

Pietro felt... at peace. Not for long, but the moment was long enough for him to look back out. Adeline hadn't moved, but she looked scared. Her body wasn't fully there, but her attention was on him still.

"Adeline?" He spoke.

"Adeline." She quickly corrected the pronunciation, smiling at him, as if she recognized the voice of a soothed Pietro.

"I don't... remember you. I-I just..." He stammered, tears welling up, not of fear or terror, but the slip of his mind fearing for losing any more of his sanity.

"It's okay. It's okay..." She reassured, the sound of her voice now slurred, as if brushed off into the wind half-way like chalk. "We've only just met." She looked heartbroken too. "Pietro, I can't stay long, but I need you to promise me you'll remember me, okay?"

He couldn't hear her last words after. It was whisked away into the surrounding nightmare outside, Adeline disappearing completely from view. Pietro breathed slowly, taking in the moment in silence as he was left alone once again.

Adeline was not the first person Pietro had met here, many he had forgotten, but a voice that soft, it felt like he was back home again briefly. The burning feeling subsided in his hand, but he wished it back so desperately. Pietro couldn't place it as madness set back into his mind, but he could feel it. To Adeline, he was no stranger. To him, she felt like an old friend who he had just met from how she looked him in the eye.

It scared him, but even by a little, it filled him with some semblance of hope he would see her again.

MEDIA & LINKS

dev notes

First Published: September 13th, 2024
Last Updated: October 9th, 2024

Pietro Bassi started early as "Henry William", who was meant to be a much more charismatic, confident individual whose main appeal as a Survivor was the sudden and sharp downfall into madness from being shown "eldritch truths". Henry William was scrapped as an idea years ago, but later I reused the premise of a promising young man in the early 1900s America that came too close to some sort of supernatural power for Pietro Bassi.
One stand-out influence for Pietro's lore was the film Savageland, a horror mockumentary. While Savageland didn't inform the character concept, I found the idea and plot of the film something familiar to reach towards in terms of presentation.
Pietro's lore was inspired by the framing and set up of "true crime" documentaries, attempting to set up an empathetic character, charming qualities, and then deliver the horrible news that happened to them. No specific story was in mind, but the societal tensions of an early America and immigrants was something I wanted to explore in a horror lens. The idea of genuinely horrible, bigoted group can scar and harm someone who just was making their way through life for their own pursuit not winning or losing, but the fact that someone like Ronald Martin's verdict being untold or unclear along with the victim(s) horrifically scarred physically and mentally was something I felt, as fantastical as the powers were, resonates less on a visceral or visual aspect of horror, but the grounded reality of where many pieces of horror media attempts to commentate on.

credits

The characters "Pietro Bassi" and "The Artefact" as well as their concept art were created by WheatDraws.
Perk, power, and add-on icons as well as their descriptions, lore sections and effects were created by WheatDraws.
Other image assets, such as icon backgrounds, portrait backgrounds and other such assets from Dead by Daylight belong to Behaviour Interactive.

Old legends and tales in hushed whispers speak of mortals who plot and scheme in secret. In their grasp, power, but in their sight they seek even more.

Washing up on a beach, a piece of whispering driftwood.

Dredged up from the catacombs, a slab of gnarled bone.

Pulled from an earthen pore, a piece of jagged stone.

Each of these collectors, those lured by the temptation of something strange and powerful, they all felt their work could better the world. And so, they congregate, they lure in those who like them have wants and desires.

To find a new world promised to them.

To save their life’s work from being forgotten.

To save their homeland from undesirables.

These groups worked tirelessly, not fanatics, but believers. They were empathetic in their way, but often cruel in disregard to those around them. It would be hard to argue they never had this within them, but it was this force that brought it out of them, like ethereal hooks cast out into the water, pulling at the soul ever closer.

He carved into the wood delicately.

She sawed into the bone brutishly.

He chipped into the stone delicately.

The artefact itself regenerated itself each time, sometimes in weeks, sometimes in years. It materialized where it could, when it could, and acted as a conflux of energy. Through this material, in whatever shape it took, the desire to shape it to the mortal eye’s appeal stuck. It turned human, but was anything but. This was a force of abnormal nature, invoking terror and paranoia. Both the exploitative and the exploited flocked to its presence, acting as if of their own accord, encouraged by the artefact.

The rites were always similar, but often left little to no remnant behind afterward. In their pleas, each of these gatherings found themselves offering the blood, flesh, and bone of an unwilling body. While the body was the first thing to be tainted, to be torn into ruthlessly, it was the soul that was consumed first. Siphoning it away, ensnaring a person’s spiritual essence into its material, conjoining and stitching it into hundreds upon thousands of others just like them in other pasts, other futures, and other worlds.

The rites did not end happily, nor were those promises fulfilled that mortals had filled their minds of. Crew, clubs, and societies alike that all participated had found themselves mercilessly killed, adding to the artefact’s power without a second thought. In the aftermath, the artefact would find itself cast elsewhere by some means unexplained, regrowing, sometimes changing into a different material, awaiting a new set of hands to carve it and a new set of eyes to envision something within it.

However, one day, the artefact no longer appeared elsewhere. It appeared somewhere, one place, in fact. In its attempt to siphon and consume the soul of a sacrifice, the artefact was taken elsewhere, already carved out from its stone flesh by men desperate and prideful alike. Here, the souls were fragmented, something had interrupted the process, and so the artefact took life. The erupting and pained spirits within wailed in agony, crying out their dying thoughts of home, fire, blood, mercy, and revelry alike.

The Entity’s realm would provide no new trial, but the artefact would get its tribute. It was in its nature to receive.

artefactlore

crooked twig
family ring
animal bones
ripped sleeve
diseased bandages
blue petals
ronald's knife
carved driftwood
burning ash
lady rohner's notes
frail twine
ritual robes
obsidian piece
pietro's gift
transcript collection
cursed stone
courtroom sketch
heavy stone slab
iridescent soul essence
missing evidence

extra media

THE ARTEFACT CONCEPT ART
Early Concept Art

DEV NOTES

First Published: September 13th, 2024
Last Updated: September 13th, 2024

Originally this chapter concept started out as a remake of a very old Pirate Killer concept, but as I developed the written lore I found the aspect of a cursed object or artefact far more fascinating as a horror archetype, and so I pursued it. I pulled from influences of hyper-obsession over an item / object, occultism, and the Jumanji board from the original Jumanji film.
There is no "true form" of the Artefact, as it in every iteration has been made of different materials. The default appearance is of a red-barked tree with several branches also sharpened to points.

CREDITS

The characters "Pietro Bassi" and "The Artefact" as well as their concept art were created by WheatDraws.
Perk, power, and add-on icons as well as their descriptions, lore sections and effects were created by WheatDraws.
Other image assets, such as icon backgrounds, portrait backgrounds and other such assets from Dead by Daylight belong to Behaviour Interactive.

Madison's heart pumped in her chest, threatening to break out as blood rushed through her. She stumbled and tripped through the winding roots set deep into the earth from the trees, struggling to stay upright as a pounding in her skull reverberated. She steadied herself on the bark of a winding tree, feeling the texture of it melt between her fingers.

"No... No, no, no! Gabriel!" Madison whimpered and whined, fingers clutching the top of her head as a stinging pain surged through her.

"You're doing nothing. You've accomplished NOTHING." Growled the voice, warbled and hissing in her mind as she tried to push herself up and off from the tree, her hand now finding itself melted into the tree, blurred and smeared like paint in reality. Everything was misplaced, misremembered... It was like walking through a dream in a place she had been thousands of times, but everything was moved a half-inch in a direction and in its space, it was smeared in every other direction it should be.

"You've gotten us stuck here," He hissed again. "You can't find a way out even for yourself."

Madison screamed, as if bound by the tree now, the world around her melting with a trickle of crimson blood down the back of her neck as limbs grew stiff, unable to move now aside from her head or eyes. She could only see the gnarled, twisted woods, but with Gabriel growing louder, more painful, she could feel something else.

Something wasn't emerging from her, something was reaching in and pulling him out.

"I'll get us out. You can count on me, Emily." Gabriel snarled, the sound of audible bones cracking and popping overwhelming the screams. Through the blur of sensations, the lockout she had felt once before, she could hear the distant callouts of the allies she had made since her arrival to this strange place. They were looking for her.

"Gabriel... please..." She trembled, her voice barely leaving her as she could feel somewhere, distantly, her limbs twisting and skull splitting open all while bound in the molten roots of the tree. She was imprisoned, after so long of keeping Gabriel away, and now was a bystander to the sight of him finding his way up into the tree as her three friends wandered in, unable to see her planted into the base of the tree.

It was too late. Gabriel had taken control, and with a low laugh, he released the repressed strength without remorse. Gabriel's method of escaping would be through blood and fury, starting with those Emily had trusted.

Maybe she would learn something, maybe she'd realize how much farther he would go, how much harder he would work than her to rip out the lung of the journalist and pull out the weed that is the jugular of that brash brawler. This is how he would find his freedom. This is how he would free himself, and use Emily's broken body to release him from this endless forest.

home video tape
children's phone
flash cards
underground map
composite drawing
"may, emily" video tape
desk radio
madison's adoption papers
bloody curtain
gabriel may's file
cake knife
bloody pillow
birthday candle
Derek's Autopsy
"May, Serena" Video Tape
age-progression photo
weaver's patient journal
chair fragments
undeveloped arms
trophy base

LINKS & MEDIA

DEV NOTES

First Published: September 3rd, 2024
Last updated: September 3rd, 2024

Part of the visual aspect of the power design is inspired and influenced by the rail sections in BioShock Infinite, including the targeting of the landing spot or where to attached to the rail.

CREDITS

All references to Gabriel May, Madison Mitchell, and usage of other such characters and names belong to their respective owners.
Perk, power, and add-on icons as well as their descriptions, lore sections and effects were created by WheatDraws using the Malignant canon.
Image renders of Gabriel ("The Parasite") are from Malignant (2021) with edits applied to them.
Other image assets, such as icon backgrounds, portrait backgrounds and other such assets from Dead by Daylight belong to Behaviour Interactive.

^{Written by Pixel Bush}

“Skin of metal and a body that will never age or die.”

That was John Lumic’s aspiration when he created the first Cybermen: a dying man's desperate play for immortality and a promise for his vision of humanity’s future. Lumic's first Cybermen set out to case the world's population in unflinching steel but were held back by the human resistance spearheaded by the Preachers. In the ruins of the Cyber-factories, they worked tirelessly on dimensional shunt technology until an opening was found and a scouting force of Cybermen forced their way into a parallel universe. But as Daleks clashed with Cybermen in London's streets they were thwarted once again by the Doctor and Dalek and Cybermen alike were hurled into the darkness of the void between universes.

Except one.

Cyber-Unit 456 awoke. Critical damage to most secondary systems. As its ocular sensors rebooted it could see a junkyard, piled high like skyscrapers with shattered cars and machinery it did not recognise. It had been dumped at a campfire and around it huddled a small group of humans picking at meat scorched on sticks. 456 reached out into the network, requesting support from any nearby Cyber-Units, but no response. Not just silence, but a total absence, like they never even existed in the first place.

So 456 waited, self-repair modules gradually piecing it back together as it watched the group. They barely spoke to each other and when they did it was only in mutters, like they thought something might have been listening. Eventually 456’s self diagnostics came back positive and the battle-scarred Cyberman staggered to its feet. The group jumped to their feet, but its wrist blaster dangled uselessly at its side. Croaking and sparking, 456’s first words to the group were not a threat, but an offer.

Early conversions were unexpectedly simple. The first few were willing, eager even, for the strength conversion provided. 456’s profiling algorithms were baffled: these subjects appeared to be heavily emotionally suppressed already, as if something had scraped their souls out without any physiological damage. To the newly appointed CyberLeader One, this only made things easier, and the few who did not willingly walk into the ramshackle conversion machine built in the junkyard were forced through by the inviolate steel bodies of their former friends and family.

Of course, these designs were imperfect, scrapped together from whatever this blasted wasteland could offer. But the fresh converts reported that they'd passed through an abandoned steel foundry a few months ago, and thus the Cybermen began their pilgrimage. Any encampments or settlements found along their route were dragged along with the caravan, living prisoners hauling any workable metal they could find and those too damaged to work rendered down into a barely edible slurry to keep their former comrades on their feet.

When they settled at the foundry, CyberLeader One set out the schematics for Lumic’s vision and in a matter of weeks it had become a full Cyber factory; a charnel house of roaring furnaces and cutting blades that would convert victims by the dozens and forge for them new bodies of true and perfect steel. As it looked out upon the armies at its command from the factory's high gantries, CyberLeader One felt a twinge of what could almost have been pride. The world beyond the forges defied reason, landscapes of savage beasts and impossible architecture, but the Cybermen would bring reason, logic and unity to this dominion of madness. The Void, as those first survivors called it, would fall to the Cybermen.

The darkness fell so quickly. A hand on its back. Fog gushing from all directions, pouring into vents and gaps in CyberLeader One’s armour. It was blind and deaf and falling, falling so far into oblivion.

And with a crash it hit the ground… but the ground was different. Not the concrete and tread plate of the Cyber factory, but wet grass. This wasn't the Void, there was far too much… life here. How profane.

The fog was still here, retreating into a dark cloud behind One, and as it turned to face the coalescing cloud a rhythmic metal lockstep echoed from the inky blackness. One recognised what it was looking at. Something One hadn't seen in a very long time, a presence One hadn't felt since washing up in this realm. The only feeling that ever mattered.

Authority.

“CYBERLEADER ONE… AWAITING ORDERS.”

electrified casing
prehensile cables
cybermat
ray machine
blasted keycap
sedation dart
breathing apparatus
headframe laser weapon
cybermaster robes
malfunctioning earpod
covered mirror
tainted sugar
nervous system material
mechanical eyestalk
unstable blaster module
dark water flask
cyberium sample
command bracelet
iridescent earpod
smashed emotional inhibitor

extra media

DEV NOTES

First Published: September 3rd, 2024
Last updated: September 3rd, 2024

CREDITS

Designed in collaboration with Pixel Bush

All references to Doctor Who, Adric, Martha Jones, Cybermen, and usage of other such characters and names belong to their rightful owners.
The Cyberman portrait image render is an edited promotional still from Doctor Who.
Martha Jones portrait image render is an edited promotional still from Doctor Who.
Adric portrait artwork is an edited piece by Billy Christian.
Lore for Martha Jones, Adric, and The Cyberman were all written by Pixel Bush for this concept, who also helped to advise on the concept overall, add-ons, and character choices.
Perk, power, and add-on icons as well as their descriptions, lore sections and effects were created by WheatDraws using their respective canon.
Other image assets, such as icon backgrounds, portrait backgrounds and other such assets from Dead by Daylight belong to Behaviour Interactive.

^{Written by Pixel Bush}

Adric grew up on Alzarius, a world squirrelled away in a universe very different from our own. Growing up on Alzarius was challenging: every facet of life was managed by the ruling Deciders, their word unquestioned as law. Adric considered running away several times but the planet itself was no better: many colonists had tried to run before, only to meet grisly fates at the hands of the Marshmen and Marshspiders that lurked in Alzarius' swamps. During his youth on the wrecked spaceship he called home, Adric always felt like the smartest kid in the room. The rest of the world always went so slowly, and while the other children stumbled with basic arithmetic, Adric's brain would grasp any problem in front of him and solve it near-instantly. His prodigious skills were soon noticed by his teachers and his mathematical excellence became a particular point of pride, but Adric still felt there was so much more he could do, so much potential that Alzarius would never let him fulfil.

Until one day, Adric found a mysterious blue box in the forest. This box, the TARDIS, was a time and space machine that wrapped its vast interior space inside a simple wooden shell. Its pilot, who introduced himself to the Deciders not long after his arrival, was a strange man with a long scarf who called himself The Doctor. The Doctor shook things up on Alzarius, with an intelligence exceeding even Adric’s own and a taste for adventure that proved infectious. When the Doctor repaired the Starliner and allowed the Alzarians to escape the planet, Adric acted on his newfound adventurous impulse and stowed away on the TARDIS instead of joining his people, a decision that would prove fateful.

Travelling with the Doctor and his friend Romana as they escaped back into their own universe, Adric was shown the wonders and dangers of the cosmos as a passenger of the TARDIS. He even bore witness to the regeneration of the great old Time Lord after his fall at the hands of his archenemy, the Master. But the longer he stayed with the Doctor and his new companions, the more Adric felt ridden by a crawling feeling he wasn't used to back home: inadequacy. He was always a smart boy, on Alzarius that was what defined him, but standing next to the Doctor Adric had never felt more useless. Here was a man with the wisdom of ages and the knowledge of centuries of exploration in time and space and there was Adric… just a boy with a big mouth, in over his head.

Every time the Doctor shoved him aside, every time Nyssa and Tegan pushed back against him, every time his suggestions were ignored and his plans derailed, Adric felt more and more dejected. The TARDIS was not where he belonged, and he demanded the Doctor to return him back to his people. But before he could ever make it back, a plot by the Cybermen to wipe out Earth's population saw Adric on board a spaceship tracked to crash into the planet with a cataclysmic explosion. The Doctor and Tegan were captured as hostages of the Cybermen, but not before Adric could pass him his Badge of Mathematical Excellence. The gold of the badge allowed the Doctor to fight back against the Cybermen but not before the TARDIS controls were damaged, trapping Adric on the freighter alone.

Adric worked fast, attempting to halt or reprogram the out of control spacecraft, but despite shunting it back to the Cretaceous period and slowing its vector, the ship was still doomed to crash… with Adric still on board. With the Doctor and Tegan helpless to aid him, Adric was engulfed in a fireball as the freighter hit Earth, his last thoughts being an aching certainty that he had failed in his final task.

And then he woke up.

Spluttering face-down in a puddle, Adric rolled onto his back. A dark forest canopy loomed over him and his head pounded as his eyes adjusted to the gloom. Memories started to bubble back to the surface as he staggered to hit feet: a deafening scream that penetrated the freighter’s control room, a thick dark fog pouring out of the vents and choking Adric as the ship hurtled to earth. Fighting back against the blackness, struggling with the controls of the freighter, calling desperately for the Doctor… then nothing. Waking up here was all he remembered after that. Wherever “here” was.

Adric shivered, his clothes plastered in freezing muck. If the crash landed him here, the freighter wreck should be here, or at least nearby. He craned his neck, looking into the little of the sky he could see through the forest canopy. No smoke trails, no destroyed trees. Wherever he was, and Adric was fairly sure it wasn’t Earth at this point, someone must have brought him here. Adric gazed into the sky; maybe he could see something he recognised in the night sky that could tell him where he was. A planet, a star, any clue as to the world he had wound up on. Maybe the Doctor could still come and save him… if he even wanted to.

He froze.

The skies were clear, but there were no stars.

extra media

DEV NOTES

First Published: September 3rd, 2024
Last updated: September 5th, 2024

CREDITS

Designed in collaboration with Pixel Bush

All references to Doctor Who, Adric, Martha Jones, Cybermen, and usage of other such characters and names belong to their rightful owners.
The Cyberman portrait image render is an edited promotional still from Doctor Who.
Martha Jones portrait image render is an edited promotional still from Doctor Who.
Adric portrait artwork is an edited piece by Billy Christian.
Lore for Martha Jones, Adric, and The Cyberman were all written by Pixel Bush for this concept, who also helped to advise on the concept overall, add-ons, and character choices.
Perk, power, and add-on icons as well as their descriptions, lore sections and effects were created by WheatDraws using their respective canon.
Other image assets, such as icon backgrounds, portrait backgrounds and other such assets from Dead by Daylight belong to Behaviour Interactive.

^{Written by Pixel Bush}

In the summer of 2007, Martha Jones was an ordinary medical student, doing her best with a hairy family life and a placement under an overbearing consultant at London’s Royal Hope Hospital. Until one day, she ended up on the moon. The rain fell upwards and the Royal Hope was torn from the Earth, and before she knew it armoured creatures with rhinoceros heads were rampaging through the hospital searching for an alien criminal, the Plasmavore, disguised as an anonymous patient. But that was the day she met the Doctor, a time-travelling alien who almost gave his life to see the Plasmavore destroyed, and the two became fast friends. The Doctor showed her the universe in his time machine, the TARDIS, but despite the thrills and wonder of all of time and space at their fingertips, Martha had reached breaking point. For a whole year, the interference of the Doctor’s old nemesis the Master saw her wandering the world as a fugitive, her family cast into slavery and the Doctor rendered helpless to stop him. And while her efforts saw the Master defeated and time set back the way it should have been, Martha could never see the Doctor the same way again, could never go back to life in the TARDIS, and when it came time for the Doctor to leave again she chose to stay behind. Her family, and the Earth, needed her far more than the Doctor did.

Martha’s departure from the TARDIS saw the start of her career as a sought-after specialist in alien life and biology; she spent a short time working for the Torchwood team in Cardiff under her fellow former companion Jack Harkness before the Unified Intelligence Task Force snapped her up under the Doctor’s recommendation. But when the Daleks abducted the Earth as part of their plan to power the Reality Bomb and wipe out the multiverse itself, Martha was forced to use the Osterhagen Key and threaten the planet’s destruction to prevent their plan.

While the Dalek threat was eventually beaten, the weight of Martha’s choice that UNIT had placed on her shoulders, to destroy the Earth to prevent the Daleks’ master plan, didn’t sit well with her, and when the opportunity presented itself she faked her death with the help of Torchwood’s Gwen Cooper and ran away with Mickey Smith, another former companion of the Doctor’s. UNIT couldn’t control her any more, and she could enjoy her new life as a freelance alien hunter. Mickey and Martha used marriage as a cover story, with Martha posing as the mother of Mickey’s child August to evade UNIT detection, but the longer she spent with Mickey the more Martha doubted that she’d made the right choice.

It was a rainy night when she arrived at UNIT’s London HQ, and despite some friction from her former commanding officer Colonel Mace, a hearing was arranged with UNIT’s top brass to see her reinstated as a senior officer. Martha and the Colonel toasted the future, raising their glasses to the ghosts of the past and hoping to draw a line under the horrors that had happened since the Osterhagen Key. Finally, after all this time bouncing from alien threat to alien threat, Martha felt like she was back on the right track. Maybe it’d be right to call the Doctor, let him know what was going on and just have a chat. Does he do chats? Maybe, but she’s changed so much in just a few years. Now might be the time to test if he has too.

Martha rushed into the night through the rain to get to her mum’s car. Francine wouldn’t miss it for one evening. She hopped into the car with her breath visible on the inside windscreen, but it wouldn’t start. She turned the key in the ignition, over and over again, but the familiar rumble of her mum’s old Rover was just a meek cough. She got out of the car, maybe Mace could give her a lift, but as she stepped out she realised she could barely see in front of her. No street lamps, no light from the window of Mace’s office… nothing at all. She reached out into the night and the air wasn’t just cold, it was icy, billowing in front of her. A pitch black fog.

It wrapped itself around Martha and pulled her down into the concrete of the car park. She didn’t even have time to scream.

Martha woke up on a mouldering mattress, her head pounding. Her eyes adjusted to the dim light of gas-lamps. The air reeked of blood and offal. She staggered to her feet, almost tripped, and found herself leaning on an old generator; the kind of thing survivalists might keep in the wilderness.

She was in a hospital, but not the kind she was used to. The beds had leather straps and soiled sheets, the black and white tiled floors were smashed and stained with gore, and the air hung heavy with woodsmoke and mold. This was an asylum: maybe late 19th century? That can't be it though: she'd been then before and it definitely wasn't the same. It felt wrong. And besides, this generator wouldn't be invented for another 60 years at least.

Maybe she'd time travelled! Well, of course. What else could it be? Martha smiled: here's when it pays to have the last of the Time Lords on speed dial.

She pulled out a scratched and ancient flip phone, the same phone she'd been carrying for almost twenty years. Universal roaming. No matter where she was, when she was, she’d be able to reach the Doctor with this. That’s what he’d told her. She'd called her mum from the edge of an exploding sun, chatted with her brother Leo when she was marooned in the 1980s, and had woken up to a chain of texts from Trish in a dirty inn in Shakespearean London. Anywhere in the universe, she knew she could always call the Doctor.

She punched the number in.

No signal.

This was going to be harder than she thought.

CHARACTERS FEATURED IN THIS TOME

PARADOX TOME COSMETIC - "Project Indigo"

Martha Jones: A Cold Night in London
^{Written by Pixel Bush}

“Jones, what the hell were you playing at?”

Despite its size, Colonel Mace’s office felt cramped. The polished oak desk, the two large leather chairs, the desk weighty lamp casting an intense orange glow; everything felt just slightly bigger than it needed to be. It made Martha feel like a little girl dragged into the headmaster’s office. The walls were bursting with bookshelves; Martha doubted he’d ever read them. Well, certainly not all of them. Mace was far too busy for that.

“Sir, I’m sorry you don’t understand. I had to-”

“Don’t call me sir! Sir is how UNIT staff should address a senior officer and last I checked, we didn’t have a habit of employing the dead!” Mace wasn’t shouting, but as he stared up from his desk at Martha she could see it on his face. He was a stony and dour man at the best of times, but in the lamplight Mace’s anger bubbled behind his eyes, struggling against that stiff upper lip she’d come to know serving under the Colonel. He wasn’t shouting, he’d never stoop that low with a colleague, but Martha knew he really, really wanted to.

“Sir- err, Colonel Mace, I’m really, really sorry. I wish there was a way it could have gone differently.”

“Did it ever occur to you, Jones, that if you wanted to leave UNIT you could have just asked? Tendered your resignation, given your two weeks like everyone else? You didn’t have to scurry off into nowhere, burning up UNIT infrastructure and destroying valuable cadaver samples. Were you trying to hide something?”

“You don’t get it, Colonel. The chameleon wasn’t safe to keep at the facility, or anywhere.” Martha leant down, resting her hands on the desk. “Frankly, it should never have been brought in in the first place.”

“And it would have been nice to be told that in a proper report submitted at the time,” Mace leaned forward in his chair, “not seven years later from an officer we’d assumed to be dead.”

Martha opened her mouth to retort, but didn’t say anything.

Mace gestured at the chair opposite his. “Take a seat, Jones.”

Martha obliged. The leather felt like it was swallowing her up. Mace sighed, pushing the lamp aside so he could see her face to face.

He leaned back slightly. “Truth be told, I’m more angry at myself for not figuring it out sooner. I shouldn’t have been surprised that you’d resort to this just to run away. A former associate of the Doctor, after all.”

There was a touch of venom in his name. Martha started forward in her seat. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Well, you’ve never exactly been a soldier, Martha. You’ve a great many admirable qualities: you’re smart, you’re loyal, you’ve got unique experience with alien life. But this life isn’t for everyone; you’ve got to make the hard choices. Be there when it counts, face the music. The Doctor might be used to running away once the work is done, but that’s not something we can afford to do here.”

Martha clasped her hands together on her knee. Mace’s stern frown cracked. He already realised he’d made a mistake. “Remind me again, with the planets in the sky and the Daleks in the streets, did they give the Osterhagen Key to a soldier? Did they give it to you or one of your boys in berets? No, they gave it to me. The choice to end the world.. hell, it was barely a choice at all. And yet they gave it to me, because we still had to choose.”

Her hand went to her chest as if the Osterhagen Key was still there, as if its weight still hung off her neck.

“So forgive me as a lowly civilian, Colonel Mace, but I think that’s a pretty good record don’t you?”

It was Mace’s turn to fall silent.

“I don’t expect a full reinstatement, Colonel.” Martha knotted her fingers together on Mace’s desk. “But I’d at least like the opportunity to rejoin at the bottom. Work my way up again, re-earn some trust. If you’d be willing to accept my apologies.”

“While that is a considerate offer, Jones,.” Mace slid open a desk drawer. “

“The Commander-In-Chief will be there?

“I wouldn’t be worried; not in your position, anyway. Kate always had a soft spot for the Doctor’s associates.”

“Softer than yours, Colonel?”

“You’d be surprised.” A flicker of a smirk crossed Mace’s face.

Martha’s jaw dropped. A smile from the Colonel. Must be Christmas.

extra media

dev notes

First Published: September 3rd, 2024
Last updated: October 9th, 2024

credits

Designed in collaboration with Pixel Bush

All references to Doctor Who, Adric, Martha Jones, Cybermen, and usage of other such characters and names belong to their rightful owners.
The Cyberman portrait image render is an edited promotional still from Doctor Who.
Martha Jones portrait image render is an edited promotional still from Doctor Who.
Adric portrait artwork is an edited piece by Billy Christian.
Lore for Martha Jones, Adric, and The Cyberman were all written by Pixel Bush for this concept, who also helped to advise on the concept overall, add-ons, and character choices.
Perk, power, and add-on icons as well as their descriptions, lore sections and effects were created by WheatDraws using their respective canon.
Other image assets, such as icon backgrounds, portrait backgrounds and other such assets from Dead by Daylight belong to Behaviour Interactive.

Elster moved forward, deliberate and determined as ever. She felt the blood pour from her hairline, down over an eye and cheek, just reaching her chin in a smear from an earlier attempt to stop the drip of the crimson.

The Replika felt the weight of the world on her, the memories of all that was before flooding into her. Replika minds were not meant to know such things, but she could not imagine a life without it. Elster's rising memory and instinctive habit kicked in, holding her breath as she pulled the release on the door, walking into the dark, cool chamber of the cryopod.

She had been here before, not by accident each time, but this felt odd. Off, even. Elster looked forward at the low-buzzing cryopod, the dim light displaying the dying power supply of the Penrose dramatically as it caused the blood red liquid within the cryopod to glisten brilliantly. Inside, Ariane was nowhere to be found.

Elster hesitated to take a step, but she did so anyway. The click of metal on metal, the thump of dead steel beneath guilt-ridden footfalls as Elster approached the side of the cryopod itself, scanning and expecting to witness something, but finding nothing.

She did her best to understand it, like she was missing something, there was a solution to be found here, daring to not entertain what Adler had said, but having to eventually consider it as she fell to her knees, clutching the side of the open cryopod desperately.

Perhaps everything was too broken to be understood, to be seen. Not that she was too late, but she was never going to be in time. The dread passed through her, infinitely, a sickly feeling in her stomach as she stared into the crimson liquid, watching it gently ripple before slowly draining itself unceremoniously. Gallons of it, all blood from the consistency, washed away, staining the pod's interior, but leaving behind a keycard. This was familiar, but so long ago did she have something like this happen.

Elster picked up the keycard, unfamiliar with its design or wording aside from "Krähe" in large font, the typeface appearing somewhat out of uniform, slightly scratch-like at the tips and ends of letters. Elster stood up, holding the blood-dripping key in hand with no idea what to make of it.

Unaware of the cycle that had been disrupted, Elster felt a pain in her upper arm, the trauma rising again as the shape of the air around her shifted like a great wave of energy.

The cryopod ripped itself apart, melting, dissolving into a misremembered vision. Elster reached for her shotgun, finding nothing, not even the flashlight module on her shoulder as the flickering light gave way.

Moments passed in bleak blackness before the sound of metal being wretched open, the doors of the cryopod chamber ripping open. Standing, floating above the steel ground, blades of grass poking up through, dead and bleeding into an unfamiliar world outside of a dark sky and glimmering moon that was framed by the golden yellow halos of Commander Falke herself. The face covered in veins of flesh, growths of muscle and flesh, teeth twisted into fangs. The sound of her spears could be heard as they grazed against each other, spreading out like wings as the Commander looked upon Elster in her disoriented state.

Elster took a step back, the sounds of a disruptive radio playing over her mind as she regained focus. Something changed. Falke changed.

While her mind raced, Elster never demoted her ultimate goal, even when found in this alien world far from any empire, warzone, or mining facility:

Find Ariane, and fulfil their promise.

extra media

CINEMATIC CONCEPT TRAILER

DEV NOTES

First Published: August 15th, 2024
Last Updated: March 29th, 2025

Danger Sense was originally named "Evasion"
Oathbound's first passive effect is based on an item add-on for the Key item. IYKYK.
Oathbound specifically was designed as a "Get Down, Mr. President" type of design and a relentless desire to save / protect a specific person.

CREDITS

SIGNALIS was created and is owned by rose-engine.
The Commander / Falke and LSTR-512 / Elster portrait renders by Rarithlynx, based on and using models created by HyeonHyunHyoon.
Perk, power, and add-on icons as well as their descriptions, lore sections and effects were created by WheatDraws.
Other image assets, such as icon backgrounds, portrait backgrounds and other such assets from Dead by Daylight belong to Behaviour Interactive.

Commander Falke felt a release of pressure inside her mind, as if a third eye opened and unsealed something terrible inside her.

Admist this euphoria, she remained kneeling, finding herself only a few meters away from the white-haired woman. Not close enough to see the face clearly, but the redness of the eyes were clear enough.

No words needed to be shared, an almost impossibly long reach from the figure caressed Falke's right cheek, pushing aside the dark hanging hair from the face. Falke could not help but weep in this moment, even as the white-haired figure drew closer, her hands stained black, eyes a piercing blood red. She looked less kind here, but knowing she was within reach kept her endeared.

The woman spoke without moving her mouth, her features imperfect as Falke could ignore the sensation of rot creeping over her fingertips and spreading from the center of her forehead.

"It could be us, again."

Falke felt all those memories, all those visions of them together, the sounds and the songs... but this voice was different. She was desperate for the peace offered, yet confused.

"It could just be us."

Falke opened her eyes to the shock and pain, the suffering of veins and flesh warping around her body, bleeding on the outside and trembling as she collapsed to the ground. Her hand clasped her forehead, the pain sticking in her mind as Falke found herself returned to that painful form, twisted and cruel in shape. As her senses returned, the Commander looked up, finding the white-haired woman nowhere near her anymore.

Her mind could not find her, nor could it escape the promise she was offered. Her last option for peace, to be with the woman.

Falke thought to it again. It could just be us. It could just be us.

Rising to her feet, then above the ground, golden spears of light hovering around her like an angel of rot and disease. Reality shifted around her, forming into cold metal and steel, the foggy visions of the vessel from her dreams and memories taking shape. The other was beyond the door, interfering like static to the promise.

"It will just be us."

BROKEN ARLOCK KEY
OPERATIONS MANUAL
replika overview: lstr
plate of flesh
combined wooden doll
isle of the dead
replika overview: adlr
eidetic module
stone from the red gate
discharged stun prod
18th major arcanum
potted lilies
owl container
falke's diary
plate of love
replika overview: fklr
administrator's key
the king in yellow
penrose photo
iridescent artifact

extra media

CINEMATIC CONCEPT TRAILER

DEV NOTES

First Published: August 15th, 2024
Last Updated: March 29th, 2025

CREDITS

SIGNALIS was created and is owned by rose-engine.
The Commander / Falke and LSTR-512 / Elster portrait renders by Rarithlynx, based on and using models created by HyeonHyunHyoon.
Perk, power, and add-on icons as well as their descriptions, lore sections and effects were created by WheatDraws.
Other image assets, such as icon backgrounds, portrait backgrounds and other such assets from Dead by Daylight belong to Behaviour Interactive.

Debby sipped loudly on the dark red straw of her fountain drink, working the convenience store on the corner of King and River. Five o'clock on a Wednesday meant two things:

Johnny, the local hiker, would be passing through to get some snacks and flirt before heading up the canyon. She didn't mind, she liked Johnny.

The other thing? Having to awkwardly tell Ron to leave, again. He was nice, she slipped him treats where the cameras didn't see it, but she had to keep this job in the pocket. She already saw him walk around the side of the building about ten minutes ago, so she just waited for her break.

The young woman took another loud, long drink of her soda just as the fan blew air into her hair and face, reminding herself of the unbearable heat. She eyed the counter, seeing some chips and gummies that no one ever bought, nothing that anyone would really miss. She plucked them up in between her fingers, did a quick check through the store for anyone hiding in the shadows, but not anymore than her hourly wage made it feel like it was worth to check.

Through the office and out the back, Debby cracked open the heavy door to the sun-setting backlot, looking around and seeing her car parked up against the derelict corpse of a van near the fence. Near that, a couple dumpsters and the powerlines that cross all over the road and town, keeping Debby's mind firmly in place she's still within reach of her hometown. Peeking around the wall, she spotted Johnny looking around, his dumb, goofy smile betraying the moment of confusion he was going through as he jogged over towards the cracked open backdoor.

"Hey!" Johnny laughed, coming to a stop with a hop in his step.

"Hi." She just smiled. "Figured you would've stepped in, what are you doing back here?" Debby propped herself up against the doorframe as Johnny did the same to the wall, clutching a bottle of water in one hand loosely.

"Well, I was gonna come up, but I figured Ron was out here, so I was gonna--" He tapped the plastic to his palm, the crunch of the material as the water sloshed around inside. "--give him something to drink. Y'know, just because of the--"

"Heat." Both of them said at the same time, Debby nodding as she glanced around again, eyes fixed to the abandoned van. "Well, he was here. I didn't say hi to him yet, but maybe he just went to grab something..." She looked at the inside of the van, feeling something off. The orange sun-burnt sky felt strange, shadows unmoving, but the heat remained still. Something about... the clouds changed? She couldn't tell, her eyes kept going up for some reason.

"Anyway," Johnny broke the silence as he looked around himself, far less concerned. "I did see he set his pack and stuff down over there, so I might just... drop this off if that's alright with you?" Johnny did that small movement backwards, walking towards the van with a smirk. "Afterwards, I can head in and get my stuff. Can't stick around too long, so hoping you'll let Ron know I was around."

"Yeah, of course!" Debbie smiled, starting to close the door. "Come back in and I'll ring you up for your usual."

"Sounds great, I'll be in in a sec." Johnny waved a hand, watching her as she closed the door, giving a sigh before flipping the plastic bottle in his hand and making his way to the van. Inside, overgrown weeds and plants breaking up through years-old asphalt, reclaiming the vehicle that has been long-since stripped for parts. Tucked carefully beside old Ron's pack, Johnny placed the bottle of water and stuffed a couple dollar bills in under the paper label. "Take care of yourself Ronnie." Johnny patted the swollen backpack in the backseat as he left the metal shell, stretching in the approaching dusk, looking around as he rolled his shoulders.

He hesitated, just briefly, looking down and seeing a still lit cigarette glowing dimly beside the slashed and deflated van tire, the familiar sight of those cheap smokes Ron always had on him. Johnny looked up and around, no sign of anyone. Miles of telephone poles down and up the road, his own car out front of the store, but no Ron. A wave of concern filled him, as if trying to place some piece of Ron here like a missing puzzle piece, but his mind couldn't shake the idea that he was missing something.

Johnny sighed, rubbing the sweat from his forehead while passing beneath the shadow of the fence and telephone poles, slowly making his way back around the building, checking back at least once for his friend. He used to be around here a lot as a kid, seeing even just the backlot deteriorated like that and older folks like Ron without a place to stay cool made him upset, but he did what he could to help. Just before he turned the corner, Johnny looked back again, seeing the sun quickly begin to set, shadows growing larger, longer, and more oppressive over the backlot before the bell of the store clattered with his entry.

sirenheadlore

snapped twigs
vacation photo
disappearance report
sinew wiring
backdoor security tape
long tooth
logging photo
busted speaker
apartment break-in report
sighting, 11-14-2019
lake shore photo
birdwatcher's journal
fallen branch
ghost town files
torn flier
recovered cell phone
polaroid #6
the gewecke disappearance
mummified hide
the cemetery photo

extra media

DEV NOTES

First Published: November 26th, 2020
Last updated: November 8th, 2024

CREDITS

Siren Head was created and is owned by Trevor Henderson. Icon artwork was created by myself, WheatDraws.
This concept uses and references the work of Trevor Henderson with permission and his blessing.
Siren Head portrait artwork by Trevor Henderson.
Other image assets, such as icon backgrounds, portrait backgrounds and other such assets from Dead by Daylight belong to Behaviour Interactive.

The facility shook, unstable and chaotic. In the leather grip of the T-00, it held the police officer as he struggled to free himself.

A massive explosion shook the walkway they were standing on, sending the cop tumbling away, out of sight, and away from the exploding inferno that engulfed the Tyrant.

Flame charred and damaged the tough hide of the towering figure as it gripped onto the burning hot railing, heat sinking in through the gloves.

T-00 pulled itself up, pushing through thick smoke and burning heat. The body shifted, twisting and turning. The limiter became unstable, erratic, allowing the recovery process and damaged body that was mangled from the destruction to heal back, but incorrectly. It became violent, but fought with itself to retain some shape as T-00 emerged from the smoke-filled hallway, seeing the shape of a man ahead.

Each step came with each click of buckles, each crunch of leather as its open hand swung back, then forward, gripping the figure by the throat and crushing it instantly.

Dropped without much resistance, the body fell to the ground, but as the smoke cleared, the body became clear. This was not the target. Around the Tyrant, no sign of the city either. Dense woodland, dark and quiet surrounded it. The pursuer scanned the horizon, still seeking its objective. Find the survivors of Raccoon City, and eliminate them.

With heavy footfalls, the Tyrant stepped over the man he had killed, feeling an odd burning sensation beneath its rough skin as the power limiter found little functionality to keep the Tyrant true to its shape in this place far from Umbrella's oversight.

damaged helicopter rotor
wooden boards
mechanic jack handle
bishop plug
shredded fedora
heart key
security shutter switch
powdered red herb
jeweled scepter
diamond key
interview transcript
combination lock
cerberus eye
mixed powdered herbs
g-virus vial
key card, weapons locker
crushed brain matter
pocketbook
savored ink ribbon
iridescent welcome sign

extra media

original dbd concept gameplay video
lobby and chase themes

DEV NOTES

First Published: April 5th, 2021
Last Updated: February 13th, 2025

While the original version of The Tyrant's power came out prior to the first Resident Evil chapter officially, it did have some resemblance to both Nemesis and Wesker's powers which made it a little difficult to find something that still let it feel unique and hopefully different from each of their powers without sticking to a power design of "long chases are good, actually" which would just feel bad in any context. Hopefully this newest iteration of The Tyrant's power refreshes the concept in a way that still feels familiar to the original.

CREDITS

Originally designed in collaboration with the
Dead By Daylight Community Concept Team

All references to Resident Evil and its characters / names belong to their respective owners.
Image render of Mr. X commissioned from and created by BenjsArchive for purpose and use by Dead by Daylight Community Concept Team and edited.
This concept was originally drafted and completed in collaboration with the Dead by Daylight Community Concept Team and originally posted as a video on the Rarithlynx YouTube channel.
Perk, power, and add-on icons as well as their descriptions, lore sections and effects were created by WheatDraws using the Predator franchise.
"Shredded Fedora" add-on icon was created by Behaviour Interactive.
Other image assets, such as icon backgrounds, portrait backgrounds and other such assets from Dead by Daylight belong to Behaviour Interactive.

This? This was hell.

Miles had grown accustomed to the taste in the back of his mouth, vomit that would never come, but constantly threatened him as he walked past the body in the hallway. Everything was sterilized, or at least used to be. Blood splatter was smeared across the underground facility, all documented on the barely-functional camcorder Miles held in hand. Murkoff was never gonna survive this, assuming he made it out too. He was getting all he could of the situation.

Miles had been documenting every moment leading up to this, his pockets clinking softly with each step as batteries clicked together. That soft clicking turned to a rush of movement as the reporter stumbled, hearing the hiss of something he could not see. Through the cracked lens of his camcorder in the green hues of the shape of it was made clear: The WALRIDER.

The hallway was filled with hissing, the fluttering of loose research and data papers as Miles ran away to safety, trying to seek out a space, a room, or any sort of decontamination space. It was too late. Like a sledge hitting the small of his back, he flew forward, barely hovering over the ground from the impact before slamming face-first into the hard floor, his camera scattering out of his hand and documents flying out from his jacket. He scrambled to his knees, an incredible pain in his stomach and chest while the warm gushing of blood from his nose stained the ground. He swallowed some of it as it dripped into his mouth, still trying to catch his breath from the hit.

God, it fucking hurt. Is this really how it goes? Not even getting to the finish line? Miles Upshur: Killed in some ancient Nazi-lab after surviving an untold number of freaks and disasters to a science ghost?

Miles barely got up when something wrapped around his calf and he was dragged back down the hall, grunting as he flipped around, seeing the faintest outline of smoke-like essence above him. He laughed, just a little. How absurd it was. Right as he sputtered and could taste his blood from the cracked open nose, like a shadow of gravity, he could feel the windup of the force over him before--

Suddenly, and violently, Miles was dragged back across the floor again, something gripping at his shoulders as he weakly kicked and flailed, suddenly pulled down the hall - Away from the shadow.

Panicked, Miles could see himself move down the hallway at a rapid speed, looking toward what he thought was the WALRIDER again, but instead, a massive body of dense fog that accumulated to the end of the hall. A deep growl, a rumble even, like the pit of something's stomach is all Miles heard as he tried to grab the scattered remains of his camera on the way out in the chaos, only to barely bat it with his fingertips and a shout escaping his lips. Any words he did say was cut off by the mass as he was fully submerged within, and just as quickly as it had appeared, it vanished, dissipating as the WALRIDER was left among the carnage and alarm sirens within Mount Massive.

extra media

Menu & Chase Music

DEV NOTES

First Published: October 31st, 2024
Last Updated: March 29th, 2025

Outlast was voted by the community through a weeks-long poll of a dozen different possible concepts to pursue next as a Chapter Concept Spotlight. It won by 2 votes over Hotline Miami, followed by The Terminator.
Add-ons for Cutthroat Malpractice were taken from across Outlast media, including the free online comic books where it includes a Trager origin story.
Richard Trager was chosen as the Killer over other options, such as the WALRIDER, Chris Walker, or even Marta from Outlast 2 due to the fact that despite his very short time in the game, his personality and impression on players even years later is so strong that it felt impossible to not pick him, not to mention him having one of the most memorable scenes as part of his introduction.
Implementing a "torture" mechanic was a difficult process to not only put into words, as Trager has no inherent supernatural ability. Inspiration for an interrogate-style option for the power was taken from games such as Splinter Cell and Rainbow 6 Siege's operator Caviera.
While the Tempt perk type was first used in my Candyman concept, this is its first appearance in a Dead by Daylight Chapter Concept Spotlight video.
Richard Trager had a perk cut mid-design for being too similar to a perk designed previously into the BioShock concept known as "Under Pressure". The name of the perk, however, was repurposed and given to the Evil Dead concept's perk pool, which was known as "Deride".

CREDITS

Originally designed in collaboration with the
Dead By Daylight Community Concept Team

All references to Richard Trager, Miles Upshur, and usage of other such characters and names belong to their respective owners.
Miles Upshur model modified and edited by Tokami-Fuko, notably the head model.
Perk, power, and add-on icons as well as their descriptions, lore sections and effects were created by WheatDraws using the Outlast canon.
Image render of Richard Trager a was created by Roman Noodles for use by the Dead by Daylight Community Concept Team and used with permission.
Image render of Miles Upshur created and edited from screenshots of models created/modified by Tokami-Fuko.
Other image assets, such as icon backgrounds, portrait backgrounds and other such assets from Dead by Daylight belong to Behaviour Interactive.

Richard Trager hummed a tune, something he remembered fondly playing as he settled into his desk for the day. Before all this, of course. Before much of this.

Still, he kept the tune going, even improvising a little with a laugh as he amused himself, fingers gliding across the crusted metal of his sheers, looking over his selection of 'surgical instruments'.

His song was interrupted by the soft whining and stirring of a patient secured to a nearby bed, to which he was mildly frustrated.

"Don't worry champ, that's just nerves. You'll get over it, just stay quiet for now, m'kay? I got a wild headache this morning, heh..."

Trager whistled, humming back to that discovered rhythm again before picking up a delicate fountain pen and beginning to write his notes down on a stained piece of paper.

"Shows signs... of... Hm. Lets say hysteria--"

The patience struggled and whined, the mouth sewn shut, making what noise he could as his stomach was already split open, tools lazily left within, touching and hanging like a rack at the edge of the crude opening. Trager was not having it, and he was on a hair trigger.

Like a flash of lightning, Tragger spun the pen in his hand, holding it tight in a fist as he swung it down upon the restrained man, puncturing flesh and digging right under the adam's apple, staining his leathery hand with crimson and digging deep, wedging it with grunts of frustration and effort.

"Stupid fucking--! You bitch! Eugh." Trager let go of the pen, now sticking out of the erupting throat as his patient near-silently struggled on the bed, drowning in his own blood. "Fuck me-- You just... Heh, well. That's honestly pretty impressive. Didn't think you could make that much noise, but hey - you managed to go out by impressing me." He wiped his hand off on his aprin, playfully waving a hand as he picked up his sheers. "Go ahead and keep it, I got it at an office party from this total asshole with this--"

Joking and rambling, he stopped as his hand gripped his sheers and he could hear the sound of music out the hallway. He hesitated, but inched toward it. He... knew this song. Yeah, this was the song he remembered! The exact beat, the small drums. Trager walked out into the flickering light of the hallway, looking around before eyeballing the dimly lit corridor ahead of him.

He didn't even notice the ankle-deep fog that way, but he did hear the music. It was delightful. The mornings of coffee, delivered brunch, fine pieces of ass passing by the door of his office... all those memories flooding back. Trager laughed, casually striding toward it, into the fog, following the promise of good times in his mind before disappearing into the fog-dense extension of the asylum that never existed.

Defunct Security Pass
Password List
New Restraints
Desk Scissors
Rattling Chains
Trager's Stash
Sterile Tubing
Dried-Out Tongue
Surgery Journal
Detailed Procedure
Reshaped Crystal Figure
Rohypnol Tablets
Neck Stretcher
Therapy Report
The Gospel of Knoth
Murkoff Business Card
Incriminating Camcorder
Whistleblower Printout
Severed Fingers
Trager's Admittance File

extra media

DEV NOTES

First Published: October 31st, 2024
Last Updated: June 2nd, 2025

Outlast was voted by the community through a weeks-long poll of a dozen different possible concepts to pursue next as a Chapter Concept Spotlight. It won by 2 votes over Hotline Miami, followed by The Terminator.
Add-ons for Cutthroat Malpractice were taken from across Outlast media, including the free online comic books where it includes a Trager origin story.
Richard Trager was chosen as the Killer over other options, such as the WALRIDER, Chris Walker, or even Marta from Outlast 2 due to the fact that despite his very short time in the game, his personality and impression on players even years later is so strong that it felt impossible to not pick him, not to mention him having one of the most memorable scenes as part of his introduction.
Implementing a "torture" mechanic was a difficult process to not only put into words, as Trager has no inherent supernatural ability. Inspiration for an interrogate-style option for the power was taken from games such as Splinter Cell and Rainbow 6 Siege's operator Caviera.
While the Tempt perk type was first used in my Candyman concept.
Richard Trager had a perk cut mid-design for being too similar to a perk designed previously into the BioShock concept known as "Under Pressure". The name of the perk, however, was repurposed and given to the Evil Dead concept's perk pool, which was known as "Deride".

CREDITS

Originally designed in collaboration with the
Dead By Daylight Community Concept Team

All references to Richard Trager, Miles Upshur, and usage of other such characters and names belong to their respective owners.
Miles Upshur model modified and edited by Tokami-Fuko, notably the head model.
Perk, power, and add-on icons as well as their descriptions, lore sections and effects were created by WheatDraws using the Outlast canon.
Image render of Richard Trager a was created by Roman Noodles for use by the Dead by Daylight Community Concept Team and used with permission.
Image render of Miles Upshur created and edited from screenshots of models created/modified by Tokami-Fuko.
Other image assets, such as icon backgrounds, portrait backgrounds and other such assets from Dead by Daylight belong to Behaviour Interactive.

Cecilia was born to a well-off family, wanting for little materially, but desiring so much more beyond what her life had offered her. Her family had expectations far taller than she felt she could ever reach, like a looming shadow that never let her bask in the comfort of the sun.

As a young woman in the Roman Empire, she distracted herself from that dreadful reality with her older brother, Marcus, who was a talented and aspiring gladiator. She thought the world of him, and admired the work he put into achieving such a role. She was his greatest fan, and he adored her, the only member of the family that entertained her hopes of living a life that wasn't meant to just be married off and have children. Just as she thought greatly of him, he thought she had that same greatness.

Despite the changing culture and world around her in Rome, including the decline in audiences for athletic shows like gladiator games, Cecilia believed if anyone could change the tide to bringing people back into the games, it was Marcus. She attended each event she could, even watching him train day after day. While she was more fascinated with the raw combat, she admired how much of a performance it was, complete with theatrics and all, even if she preferred the idea of seeing people actually fight.

When she was nearly a grown woman, her brother was struck by a blow that did far more damage than intended, leaving him disabled in his bed, requiring Cecilia to tend to him and his sudden physical distress and disability. This change was like a curse upon the family, leaving Cecilia at home, tending to her ailing brother who at the same time was also plagued with illness. There were few nights where Cecilia didn't cry herself to sleep, hoping she would not disturb the rest her brother needed to heal.

She refused to let this be her brother’s end or the only hope this family had, to be forgotten in some husk by the world, to let his hard work and talent go unremembered as the games became more and more scarce within the cultural consciousness of a changing Rome. With the last favors Cecilia could muster using her family's name, she enlisted herself as a gladiator without formal training, using her own knowledge of the sport and technique she gained from her brother's demonstrations before his injury despite the reaction from her remaining family. She was threatened to be outcast, but in a twisted fortune, they succumbed to their own illnesses, leaving no barrier to Cecilia's ambitions and hopes to bring money into the family. Before, she might have been cast as a gladiatrix, but with a limited roster, promoters would need to work with what they had. Even if they had people pouring out in waves to sign up, Cecilia had no intention of being anything other than like her brother: A true gladiator.

Cecilia was berated and abused by the family that denied her this pursuit, but in a twist of cruel fortune, they eventually succumbed to an illness, leaving their family home to just Cecilia and Marcus. However, this also plagued Marcus, worsening his condition. Driven and with no choice left, Cecilia had to provide for her brother, determined to find the money and the time to save him from a terrible death. She could not imagine a life where the only person she cared for and that had cared for her would be away from her.

Quickly Cecilia had made a name for herself, not just as the younger sibling to Marcus, but a possible turning point for the sporting events. Even as the crowd admired the boldness and shock a young, athletic woman like herself was in the arena, a violent hunger stirred in her. That fury and rage at the world boiled beneath her craving for a true chance at expressing her capabilities, a subconscious hatred to the world around her with the way her brother had been discarded once he was broken and no longer usable… it fueled her aggression in the arena.

Accidents happened in performances, violent strikes turned into near-death situations. The crowd turned from those wishing to be entertained into those who saw excitement in such cruelty, which in turn made the games even more of an eye-sore in the changing landscape of Rome.

Cecilia, now famous for her ruthlessness, was pitted against an armored man. The same gladiator class that had cruelly struck her brother down. As this exchange and contest of strength enduring, she was struggling to use her agility to fully out maneuver this opponent. For each second and each moment she lost precious ground against her enemy, she stitched her woes and hate into this man. Everything she lost, everything she was **losing** was because of this _thing_ in front of her. It was no longer a man, but an obstacle in her way.

In that burning fury, she took her revenge for her brother, for her family, and for all those that doubted her path to greatness in honor of Marcus. They would be remembered.

That triumphant pride that filled her head, hearing cheers that urged her forward when all the audience could see was fists, feet and elbows crashing into a downed man for minutes on end.

Those cheers quickly turned to horror.

His helmet dented in, gone limp as Cecilia’s bloodcurdling cries filled the arena. Those that didn’t look away could only see the fabrics of her outfit stained in blood, her trident and net had been long since discarded as her fists dripped with blood. Cecilia's fists swiped through the air like a strokes of paint on canvas, painting the arena red with her outburst and assault on the dying man beneath her.

With each second of mindless violence, people fled the arena in fear, to fetch an authority -- _any_ authority. In their place, a dark fog rolled in through the tunnels and openings.

Her passion and emotion burned eternally, tearing through her wounds, erupting out like a heated haze. Even as she stopped her onslaught, that energy and fury burned in her still. She couldn't calm down, her cheeks burned, leaving her nothing but her hatred and the void surrounding her.

Fate had still had her by the throat, even after her act of defiance, and it was fate that wielded her like a butcher’s knife. That same passion she just wielded for herself was burning holes through her flesh like a light that would not go out, a fire that could never stop burning.

The rage was not overflowing because of abundance, but because of the pain and emotion she felt in her still conscious mind, knowing she would not see her brother again. She was doomed to her fate in this state, in this raw emotion, to be the Entity's butcher knife and to never return home.

Horse Shears
Training Routine
Curls of Hair
Damaged Ocrea
Wooden Weapon
Old Pugnum
Fractured Bowl
Murmillo Helm
Arena Flyer
Bent Meal Platter
Intimate Letter
Terracotta Statue
Treasured Gladius
Mākere's Research
Worn-Out Galerus
Sickness Rag
Secutor's Shield
Additional Weights
Heirloom Hairpin
Iridescent Fascina

CHARACTERS FEATURED IN THIS TOME

Head of House

“You are not to attend!” Screamed the old man. Cecilia sat with a fury in her heart, forced to listen to her uncle’s disapproval yet again.

“I am to be paid for my work! I’m doing more for this house than you! You just–” Cecilia was cut off with the sound of a water jug clashing with the floor, knocked over by the frail man with his eyes wide.

“You will not! You will remain here and take care of Marcus!” He shouted, the sounds of their debate the last few minutes surely reaching her brother’s room and bedside easily. Cecilia clenched her fist behind her back, imagining a dagger. The familiar grip of her uncle’s own gladius in her hand and striking him, knowing where that hideous, blackened heart within him is. All she had to do was–

“Cecilia.” Marcus carefully pulled himself free from his bed, struggling to stay upright as Cecilia rushed to his side, alleviating the pressure upon his wounded body. He looked frail, and in an instant, his condition broke her rage.

The old man huffed, the thick curl of facial hair covering his mouth again. “Damn you, Cecilia… You will stay home. Prepare our meals, and then get rid of this ridiculous notion of yours.” He spat venom with his words, her hatred cooled only by the rattling chest of her cold brother as she ushered him back to his bed.

Marcus was set back into his room, Cecilia opening the window to allow for the warmth of the summer sun to seep in, filling the room with life. Marcus smiled gently. “Sister,” He sighed, hand to his head. “You can’t keep arguing with him like this…”

“What should I do then?” She laughed under the frustration, pouring water into a small bowl before approaching his bedside. “He denies me what I want to do, what I want to help with to provide! All he does is bet and gamble not just his, but our fortunes away…” She held the bowl to his mouth, Marcus taking a long drink.

“You could still go. Like you said, you are going to be paid, right?” Marcus, as clever and cunning as he was, was someone who saw into people deeply and understood them. Cecilia admired him greatly for that, almost jealous. She was quick to emotion and frustration, but it was hard to not be when every corner she turned, her family rejected any pursuit she wished for herself. Marcus held a finger up, “Why don’t you prepare something for the family to dish out themselves, I can tell them about it and cover for you. While you’re out at your event, we’ll eat and you can come back. Easy as that.”

Cecilia groaned, setting the bowl down on a bedside table. “Uncle will–”

“Uncle will do nothing. He’ll fuss and stomp his feet, but I doubt he’s in a position to say no to more money for the house.” Marcus was right. Of course he was. “Don’t let that foolish man stop you from being what you want to be, Cecilia. If you were never meant to be a gladiator, then I wouldn’t have bothered teaching you anything.”

Cecilia pushed playfully at him as Marcus laughed, the woman shaking her head and taking another breath. “Thank you, Marcus.”

Cecilia rose from her seat at his bed, leaving the room with the vision in motion. She knew she could get past her family, her uncle and all, to continue her work, but she had to take matters more firmly into her own hands. This wasn’t just her interests, this was her future at stake.

A Cage Without Walls

Cecilia had finished the stew, with thanks to a small supply of ingredients she had already on hand to set her plan in motion. She needed this to work, she needed it to free herself and her brother.

She dished out a bowl of the stew, the smell was divine. She didn’t need to worry about her uncle of all people barging in for first claim, his nose had been long-gone for years. Cecilia gripped the dish with a brief lapse in confidence, having to take a deep breath. She looked out a nearby window, seeing the sun. It was now or never.

Cecilia pulled from her pocket an herb, one she kept on-hand for months in her room. This plan was not sudden, it was an opportunity she was waiting for, a reason to act, and to know she would be doing the right thing. Addressing the rest of the stew with this ingredient, she mixed it well before heading directly to Marcus’s room, wishing him well before departing through one of the open windows, a bag of her gear in tow. By the time she would return home, she hoped to be free of these shackles.

Another victory, and a great payout for Cecilia, proving even in a “dying sport” people are eager to see her work, to see the blood that herself and her brother share is pure talent. The long walk home was with held breath however, Cecilia approaching her family home to see a small gathering of people. Her heart sank for a moment, rushing forward to greet the gathering before seeing on the ground, laying in a pool of bloody vomit was Cecilia’s own mother. The woman must have staggered outside. Cecilia was in shock at the sight, but not at the result. Her eyes turned toward the sun-baked exterior of her home, knowing who else she would see.

In the hall, her nephew. A young man, a promising artist certainly, but a cruel child that knew nothing but spoils handed to him on a platter almost nicer than the gift. From what Cecilia could discern, he was eating while walking, his bowl spilled out onto the floor, making a mess and vomiting his stomach out until it turned bloody. She stepped around the mess, having no audience, she didn’t need to look like she cared.

She could hear the soft sputtering and coughing of the old man, her uncle, in the room over. She stepped lightly into view, seeing him laying on his back, head turned to his side as he actively spewed the vile substance out, crimson seeping into the color. Here was the man who first taught her and her brother about the sport, the same man who stopped taking her to events when her interest turned to wanting to participate. The one who demanded her to stay home, to wed richly, and demanded “his” bloodline to continue. All this prosperity, left in the drooling, gargling old body of this hideous man.

Cecilia told herself she wasn’t going to revel in it, but she couldn’t help herself. She kneeled down, grabbing the sides of her uncle’s head, keeping his face upward as his eyes barely could focus on her look of hatred. She let him choke on it, sputtering as he lost control of his body and limbs. It wasn’t as long as she would’ve hoped, but the satisfaction of running him through with a blade would’ve never let her get away with what she did. She exhaled, standing up and turning to leave before seeing the pot of stew. Her heart skipped a beat. She made this stew many times before, and knew how to ration it out so it fed everyone evenly. Nothing about what was left was off, but she wasn’t at home eating this time. Before her mind could put it together, Cecilia rushed through the empty hall, turning into the bedroom of her brother and seeing him choke and gag upon his own overturned bowl, nearly-half full. Panic set in, her heart raced as she realized he had gotten more to eat, relying too greatly on expectation made her freeze for a single second.

The look on her brother’s face as he choked and started to undergo the same effects sprung her into action. She rushed forward, forcing him to expel the poisoned stew from his system, her hands a mess and her eyes watery as she couldn’t help but break and tremble under the thought of losing Marcus.

“Please Marcus, please, no…” She cradled his head, hearing the sounds of concerned neighbors slowly wander closer to the mess and bodies inside.

“I’m sorry Marcus, I’m so sorry.” She whimpered, never having felt smaller in her life as her brother suffered a violent shock to his body and nerves. While he did not succumb to the fate of the rest of the family, he was changed forever. His injury was only worsened by the lasting effects of the poisoned food, a swollen throat and disability to speak properly, frail muscles that kept him more bedridden than ever before, and the public learning of the deaths that happened made the metaphorical death of “Marcus, the Fervent”, famed gladiator all the more certain.

The deaths were easy enough to shift blame to improper preparations or procedure on her uncle, ruining his own history and reputation, but Cecilia no longer was in the empty house she wanted, free to leave when she wanted and to go wherever she desired.

She was in an empty house with the sounds of her brother’s suffering, a cage with no walls, a chamber with an echo that shatters her heart. Her fury, as wrathful as it could be, as dangerous as it would become, was directed to herself for the first time. The greatest pain she ever could endure is regret.

EXTRA MEDIA

chapter key art
Gladiator Portrait Art
GLADIATOR / CECILIA CONCEPT ART
FROZEN WARDEN SKIN concept
Gladiator Mori Concept animatic

DEV NOTES

First Published: June 7th, 2024
Last Updated: November 14th, 2024

Since the earliest drafts of the concept, the Survivor was always meant to be an older woman who was a historian, but the Killer was originally a male gladiator by the name of Marcus, who eventually got repurposed as a part of Cecilia's story.
Many of The Gladiator's add-ons were influenced by the storytelling found in Dead by Daylight's The Oni's add-ons, where it expanded his story and life further in smaller quotes and descriptions that weren't mentioned at all in his base lore.

CREDITS

An Original Dead by Daylight Chapter Concept
Designed by WheatDraws

The characters "Mākere" and "The Gladiator" as well as their concept art were created by WheatDraws.
Chapter Key Art render was created by RomanNoodles404, as is the character model for The Gladiator.
Perk, power, and add-on icons as well as their descriptions, lore sections and effects were created by WheatDraws.
Other image assets, such as icon backgrounds, portrait backgrounds and other such assets from Dead by Daylight belong to Behaviour Interactive.

Mākere Rewi grew up in Ireland with her parents, her mother hailing from New Zealand and her father never having left Ireland his entire life. Mākere didn’t grew up knowing too much about her mother’s culture, but in her name and homelife habits would unknowingly be filled with the Māori culture.

Sadly, growing up she had better things to do than familial bonding, like hanging out with her friends, or sneaking away to experience festivals and parties. While her mother was clearly upset at such disregard to her home's culture, Mākere didn't think much of it at that point in her life. She found it tedious to correct people on how to say her name, or deal with the frustration of someone not caring to ask how to even say it in the first place. For most of her young life, if she wasn't at home, she was simply 'May'.

All of this changed for her when she finally agreed with her mom to go on vacation, leaving Ireland for a week to her mother's old stomping grounds in New Zealand. She would have never guessed a single trip would change the trajectory of her life, finding immense curiosity and enjoyment in the history of Māori culture. Her mother saw that spark of inspiration in her, and was proud to see her filled with energy upon witnessing a haka for the first time and the way it carried such raw emotion and connection.

With this interest, Mākere's young adult life was spent pursuing an interest in historical cultures and preserving them, while educating many of the significance of indigenous people across the world. She was credited in many journals and alongside other authors for her work and dedication well into her adulthood. She was proud to have helped dismantle harmful expectations and visions the public may still have to this day thanks to things like cinema or outdated history books.

While drafting a commissioned manuscript for the history of Roman culture, Mākere found herself absorbed into the possible origin of a violent association given to Roman gladiators. There were some claims by the emerging religious evolution at the time of the pagan rituals these games contained, but she found too many threads connecting back to a series of events and an individual that she felt obligated to follow, even spending restless nights researching further.

Mākere eventually found an obscure record of attendance and a roster, which led her further into a significant uncovering of a gladiator named “Marcus”. With this, she crafted her research carefully, believing herself to have discovered a loose origin of such a brutally violent association with these athletic games. It had already been long-disproved that the games were all ruthless massacres or executions, but now they had a name to possibly put to it what the newly found religious powers used as an example to outlaw and eradicate gladiator spectacles.

A month into the project, an associate arrived to see how progress was coming along, only to find Mākere was missing. Authorities couldn't pinpoint anyone coming or leaving the home, and Mākere had left behind most of her personal effects, leaving the world without a talented historian. Some feared that in her later years of life, may have had an accident without anyone knowing where she went off to. Others believed in a conspiracy, that she was writing something damning or concerning for the public, considering one of the few things missing from her home was the drafts and manuscript pages for her research.

Regardless, many schools and other groups honored the memory of a fifty-eight year-old historian in their own ways for years following her disappearance, unaware of just how twisted her fate had become when a black fog had invaded her dreams during an exhausted night of researched, filled with nightmares of a gladiator pursuing her.

Mākere thought it would end soon enough, just a nightmare that took too long to get past, but the pain of death being experienced over and over again could never wake her from this nightmare.

CHARACTERS FEATURED IN THIS TOME

Anonymous Associate

“I’m flattered you sought me out, but my work doesn’t particularly revolve around Roman cultures.”

Mākere sat down the small box on her own table, the heavy sound of it making her still unsure of the situation. Across from her was a woman, young in the face, but old in the eyes. She looked tired, very much so. This woman who introduced herself as Adeline wrung her hands, seated across from Mākere.

“I know it’s an odd commission, but please… Not many else would take this, and frankly, I’d like to keep this more under the covers.” Adeline’s eyes glanced to the box, then to Mākere again. “Is it a problem with the payment?”

Mākere laughed, a little bewildered as she took a long stare at the now closed box. Inside were relics, old and preserved. They were immaculate.

“No, not at all. I mean, it’s a little concerning where you got them from, but it’s a very curious collection to keep around. I don’t think I’d have any use for them, I’m not really a collector.” Mākere pictured in her mind the small jewelry and stones she saw within, recognizing patterns of various cultures she had researched in the past. It was as if they were never touched by dirt or dust, preserved perfectly after centuries, but kept almost carelessly in the container. Before Mākere could follow up, Adeline responded.

“Then donate them. Back to their homes, to their people. I know the work you do, and I know this is important to you.” Adeline looked determined, a little uneasy as she leaned forward in her seat. “This is what’s important to me.” Adeline’s hand touched the worn ledger on the table, placed there previously. Mākere had looked through it while discussing the possible commission; it had lists and names of various gladiators and gladiatrices prior to the disbanding of arena fights, dating back approximately ten years. A few names stood out and were pointed out, as well as other possible leads and sources.

Mākere took a deep breath and sighed, staring at the box again still. “ … Rome, you said?” Her eyes turned to Adeline. The woman’s youth returned to her serious expression, enthusiastic and reaching out to open the tome, flipping to a page of listings and recordkeeping.

“Roman culture at the end of its time, specifically its community and smaller scale events.” Adeline explained, “Around when gladiatorial combat ended as a popular sport. There were a few groups at the time that I had in mind but don’t have much to go off of with.”

Mākere looked at the woman intently, trying to read the stranger. “Any particular reason you’re after gladiator culture itself? Roman history is fairly well documented, but finding anything new would be–”

“Difficult, yes.” Adeline interrupted. “That’s why I need someone who has more time than me, more expertise, and has those connections.” Mākere noted the word choice, a piece of concern wedging into her mind.

There was a notable air of silence in Mākere’s home, the sound of a clock on the wall filling the silence in the sunlit room, the air of Galway blowing in through the window.

“What’s the deadline on this?”

“None.” Mākere looked confused before Adeline explained, “I can check in, and bring more payment as time is needed. How soon could you start on this?”

Mākere paused, considering her options. She had a trip a few months out, but until then… this could prove a viable project. “Come back to me in a month’s time. I’ll let you know if I’ve found anything.” Mākere rose up from her chair, a breath of air escaping her as Adeline rose to meet her.

“Thank you so much, and please, take the box.” Adeline gestured to the small container, smiling with an exhausted expression. Mākere extended her hand, reaching for a shake. Adeline hesitated, but eventually grasped the hand, striking their arrangement.

“Are you sure I can’t contact you by phone? Or email?” Mākere reconfirmed, still off-put by the stranger’s initial pitch in the hours earlier. “No, no. Sorry, I’m just… very offline.” The words spilled out almost unnaturally, Mākere noted.

“Anonymous, then?”

Adeline nodded and Mākere returned it.

The next month of research was a spiral into something that caught Mākere’s eye, something that felt notable and strange. Rumors and written script of off-handed remarks detailing disappearances and some strange gathering of pagans, as referred to in the text, all vanishing overnight with some left in bloody remains. She made careful notes of it, including one trace of a death that led to the gladiator roster of the time that Adeline had mentioned briefly, correlating old documents and research between a gladiator and the death of an opponent who had recently bested them. Suggestions of foul play lingered, though from what Mākere could tell, nothing came of it. Far more ruthless than she expected, and very much not the type of research she had grown accustomed to, feeling more like a crime scene investigator than a researcher.

As she was pulled into the history, leaving notes, drafts and pages of research, she dreamt of dense fog and screams. She would wake, as if surrounded by rows and stands of people, howling mad and a heart beating of violent fire.

Mākere noted everything about it, her dreams and all, and wrote a small journal directed to this anonymous patron of hers to look through on her next visit, feeling as if something about this was more than just a passing curiosity in Roman culture, unaware of how real those nightmares were, how close they clawed at the back of her consciousness.

extra media

chapter key art
Mākere Rewi Concept Art
Mākere Rewi Concept Art #2

DEV NOTES

First Published: June 7th, 2024
Last Updated: June 19th, 2025

Since the earliest drafts of the concept, the Survivor was always meant to be an older woman who was a historian, but the Killer was originally a male gladiator by the name of Marcus, who eventually got repurposed as a part of Cecilia's story.
Mākere's perks were born from a personal desire to see more map-oriented perks or things that interact with the item in some form and convey that infectious enthusiasm about someone's interest being spread out to others.

CREDITS

An Original Dead by Daylight Chapter Concept
Designed by WheatDraws

The characters "Mākere" and "The Gladiator" as well as their concept art were created by WheatDraws.
Perk, power, and add-on icons as well as their descriptions, lore sections and effects were created by WheatDraws.
Other image assets, such as icon backgrounds, portrait backgrounds and other such assets from Dead by Daylight belong to Behaviour Interactive.

There was never a second chance. To believe there was one meant failure was an option.

Kyle sprinted, donning newly stolen clothes as he chased after the path of wreckage made by the machine, an unfeeling march of evil that he followed along with the screams and cries of Sarah.

Kyle swallowed, the cool air sliding across his sweating skin the only respite he would gain as he rounded a corner, seeing the machine raise its weapon to a staggering Sarah Connor.

There was the mission, the reason to be here, and then there was the genuine desperation to save this woman, the woman he cared for. He bashed his body into the machine, toppling it nearly in its blind race to execute Sarah. Kyle was luckily able to recover much more quickly, and brought Sarah back to running.

There would be no time to celebrate, no time to plan, or any time to consider the path to the future. There was only the one chance.

CHARACTERS FEATURED IN THIS TOME

A Future Without

I don’t belong here. I wasn’t meant to see this.

The words rippled through his mind, the soldier walking carefully through the dirt path of the world around him. He had seen the greenery of Earth before the war, the sound of birds, the rustling of trees in the wind, and the trickle of water carving its way through the earth. It’s like it happened already.

Kyle Reese was sent to protect and save Sarah Connor from death, but in the middle of the transition through time, something snagged – Something intervened. It was like his body and mind were spliced, cut into one-another in ways, seeing things he had never seen, hearing voices he had never encountered and his own voice hoarse from shouting in a building, facing down a camera.

With a slap of his bare body onto the ground, Reese found himself in the dirt and grass, shin-high and dark forestry around him. He was disturbed, he never expected this. Tall trees, dark canopies and a starless sky looked down upon him, the only familiar thing that was there.

He looked to a nearby bush, a small bud of a flower growing on it, feeling it on his fingers. He had never seen such a thing… but it felt so familiar. It looked off. The sounds weren’t there. It was like some simulation, an expectation he had that never manifested. The crack like thunder in silence was the sound of a crow as it fluttered off from a tree, flying away into the distance, leaving Reese with the feeling of eyes on him.

He already was taking too long, it was time to move.

Wandering, Reese found an old ruin and building it looked like, finding some clothes to fit him. A long green jacket, some pants, and a shirt at the very least would protect him from sticking out, assuming he was anywhere near where he thought he was. As he moved through this endless woodland, the soldier grew more wary of his surroundings, finding little in the way of the city or even people, unsure of what to do. John Connor gave him a photo, something to let him know who he was looking for, but was hitting dead-ends and frustration.

That is, until he heard a sound. A screech in the air, a rumble of earth following. He knew that sound anywhere, and sprinted into action, rushing forward, leaping off fallen logs and roots, feeling the cool air of the forest whip past his face. It didn’t take long to find the source of the sound, a trail of trees and boulders broken in the wake of the creation that stood out against the green foliage around them.

A shining, still-maintained T-800. A Terminator, no flesh, just the skeleton and a weapon in hand.

He saw the rifle raise, following the sight and seeing someone appear in view. Reese was already in action, going to tackle the Terminator and intervene, but upon recognizing the blonde hair, he pushed himself beyond his limits, throwing his full force into the SkyNet agent, causing the blast to fire off to the side wildly.

Reese bounded up off of the T-800 quickly, rushing toward Sarah, who in her fear looked surprised and shocked. “Reese?”

Even he stopped. He never met her before – or did he? The memories fuzzed again, but his training didn’t deter him. These were thoughts to consider another time. “We need to go,” He looked back, seeing the machine rise up and recharge its rifle. “Now!”

Words and moments echoed in his mind as he and Sarah ran off through the woods and ruins, pursued by the Terminator that was close behind. She looked capable, resourceful. This wasn’t who he thought he was going to meet or protect, but he knew who her son would be. A leader like that had to come from someone just as if not stronger and more capable.

The future was at risk as far as he was concerned, and just below taking out that T-800 was getting her the hell out of here.

extra media

DEV NOTES

First Published: July 30th, 2021
Last updated: October 15th, 2024

This concept is rooted firmly in the first film's canon. References and allusions to all other films have not been included, or kept to an absolute minimum. The first film is far more horror-centric as a stalker film rather than the action oriented-sequels that followed despite their incredible praise, and I felt it was important to emphasize that.
Early name for Against All Odds perk was "1v1 me" and "It Ends Here".

CREDITS

All references to Terminator, Skynet, Kyle Reese, Sarah Connor, and usage of other such characters and names belong to their respective owners.
Kyle Reese, Sarah Connor, and Terminator models used in the portrait render were sourced from Deathgarden: Bloodharvest's Terminator DLC, Kyle and Sarah found in the files of the DLC as they were unreleased.
Perk, power, and add-on icons as well as their descriptions, lore sections and effects were created by WheatDraws using the Outlast canon.
Other image assets, such as icon backgrounds, portrait backgrounds and other such assets from Dead by Daylight belong to Behaviour Interactive.

In the same future on a different clock, Sarah Connor was pursued by an agent of Skynet, a T-800. The chase led through the city, but eventually blended concrete and brick into bark and stone seamlessly. A thick fog surrounded herself as she threw everything its way.

The T-800 raised its weapon, a gun - or at least she thought it was as it hummed with a hair-raising noise. Before it could discharge, Kyle Reese emerged, a fresh arrival and another chance at saving the future.

Her heart raced, unsure of what or how he came to be once more. Before a word could come out of her mouth, he brought her back to her feet proper and led her away, running from a recovering T-800 as it recalibrated a new target.

Sarah Connor's survival was important to the future, and Sarah steeled herself, bracing and devoting herself to survival and using whatever means to fight for a future worth saving.

extra media

DEV NOTES

First Published: July 30th, 2021
Last Updated: June 7th, 2024

This concept is rooted firmly in the first film's canon. References and allusions to all other films have not been included, or kept to an absolute minimum. The first film is far more horror-centric as a stalker film rather than the action oriented-sequels that followed despite their incredible praise, and I felt it was important to emphasize that.
Sarah Connor's perks had an overall theme that I restricted myself to while designing and reworking them: They had to be about building up to the woman who would survive and endure the future films, and eventually pass that knowledge to John Connor, but showed how far she was willing to go and come for that future.
Prepared for Anything's icon is based on the photo taken of Sarah at the end of Terminator.

CREDITS

All references to Terminator, Skynet, Kyle Reese, Sarah Connor, and usage of other such characters and names belong to their respective owners.
Kyle Reese, Sarah Connor, and Terminator models used in the portrait render were sourced from Deathgarden: Bloodharvest's Terminator DLC, Kyle and Sarah found in the files of the DLC as they were unreleased.
Perk, power, and add-on icons as well as their descriptions, lore sections and effects were created by WheatDraws using their respective canon.
Other image assets, such as icon backgrounds, portrait backgrounds and other such assets from Dead by Daylight belong to Behaviour Interactive.

"I will not accept a life I do not deserve."

A mantra, a fuel to desire repeated, and bellowed from deep within. Those words she shouted, the ones she boldly proclaimed before leaving that farmhouse still echoed in her skull as she drove away into the night, the sweat of Texas heat clinging to the body, cooled only by the night air.

This freedom didn't last long, the car coming to a halt and finding itself stuck on a lonely road, the shadows of crops reaching up into a dull night sky, and filled with the screams and shouts of Maxine as she kicked and pushed at the car in her fury.

She put a hand to her face, wiping sweat and the mess of blood and make-up out of the way, pushing back her hair as she stood up in a partial daze, looking down the road. It was strange. the heat dissipated, but she could make out a figure in the distance, barely illuminated by the dying lights of the vehicle.

A mirror, tears down the face, eyes burning with a similar rage, and a body as if made up of blood, bright red in color. It was hard to tell if this was just a hallucination, or trauma, but Maxine would not surrender herself to the idea.

She screamed, her voice filling the night air with those words once again empowering her.

"I will not accept a life I do not deserve.

extra media

ADDITONAL RENDERS BY TICO

DEV NOTES

First Published: October 10th, 2023
Last Updated: June 7th, 2024

Maxine's perkset was designed with the idea in mind of subverting the expectations and perception of the Killer and to overcome challenges put before her.
Afterimage's perk icon is inspired by a scene in X (2022) where Maxine is floating in the water.
Heat of the Moment's icon is an icon with a hidden "X" in it, using the legs to suggest the shape.

CREDITS

All references to Pearl, Maxine, and usage of other such characters and names belong to their respective owners.
Pearl and Maxine models used in the portrait render were created by Tico.
Image renders of Pearl and Maxine were created by Tico and used with permission.
Perk, power, and add-on icons as well as their descriptions, lore sections and effects were created by WheatDraws using their respective canon.
Other image assets, such as icon backgrounds, portrait backgrounds and other such assets from Dead by Daylight belong to Behaviour Interactive.

Gasping for air, Tommy breached the surface of the water, looking around at the dark night, illuminated only by a pale moon above. The dock to the lake was missing, but the shore wasn't far. The weight of his clothes dragged him, but he could make it to land after swimming.

Stagging, crawling towards... nothing. Grass, trees, brush, but no camp. No sign of the cabins, the boats, or anything really. Scrambling, bringing himself to his feet, dirt clinging to his wet clothes as he scanned the distant lake that... No, its shape couldn't have changed. He was just here, he had chained Jason to the bottom of Crystal Lake, a sunken prison for an undying foe.

Tommy swallowed, wiping his face as if the water was sweat, looking around for anyone left, or a sign of where he was. It didn't matter, even as the chill wind blew against the back of his neck, sending a cascade of tremors through his back in fear. A ripple in the water formed, and he clenched his jaw, a volatile mix of fear and fury within his body.

Fight, or run? He was out of options, but now was where needed to make his last stand as a shape blacker than the empty night itself rose from the water, distorting the surface and entering this world with him, this embodiment of trauma chasing him still.

extra media

DEV NOTES

First Published: October 16th, 2023
Last Updated: June 7th, 2024

Tommy's overall perk design was about confrontation and using that to fill the selfless, although reckless, leader role in a team, meaning to get the most use out of him, you are forced to put yourself in harm's way as a way to allude to his character's appearance and actions in Friday the 13th, Jason Lives (1986).

CREDITS

All references to Friday the 13th, "The Slasher", "Tommy Jarvis", and usage of other such characters and names belong to their rightful owners.
Tommy Jarvis portrait image render is an edited screenshot from Friday the 13th: The Game.
Perk, power, and add-on icons as well as their descriptions, lore sections and effects were created by WheatDraws using their respective canon.
Other image assets, such as icon backgrounds, portrait backgrounds and other such assets from Dead by Daylight belong to Behaviour Interactive.

First Published: July 27th, 2022
Last Updated: June 7th, 2024

OVERVIEW

PERKS

Dispel Magic
Total Party Kill
Warrior Within

LORE

A swirling vortex of noise, the sounds of monstrous flying vermin circled the warrior in his last stand.

He took his time, his patience, and used his pole-arm weapon to strike at range, landing a critical hit on one that attempted to ambush him! Another quickly swept in during this opportunity, landing a devastating blow, cutting easily through denim and cheap fabric, scarring flesh and muscle beneath as a dark spray of blood crashes to the ground and the beast returns to the swarming flock.

One-by-one, he fended them off, but one-by-one, they picked and tore at him, the warrior staying steadfast and bellowing like the roar of a speaker, the heart of an intrepid hero in his soul.

What came next was fuzzy, lost in a flurry of the onslaught, leaving him fighting air as he awoke with sores, scars, and pains all over. Beneath him, a bed of crisp leaves. Above was the canopy of trees, a starless sky looking down at him with the crackle of a fire nearby.

Whatever had happened, it wasn't the game over he thought it might've been. Having the confidence in his ability to fight back, he bounced back up, dusted off his jacket, and took a deep breath. Time to go out again.

related concepts

media & links

Concept Theme Music

CREDITS

Eddie Munson, Henry Creel, and Stranger Things belong to their respective owners.
Portrait renders for Eddie Munson and Henry Creel both were taken from promotional photos and statues of said characters respectively.
Perk, power, and add-on icons as well as their descriptions, lore sections and effects were created by WheatDraws using their respective canon.
Other image assets, such as icon backgrounds, portrait backgrounds and other such assets from Dead by Daylight belong to Behaviour Interactive.

DEV NOTES

Feet dragged along the dirt road, a trail of mud and wet footprints left in her wake. Mia shivered, shuddering as she had only crossed the previously flooded river only an hour ago, still trekking through the wilderness alone and covered in both blood and dirt.

Everything she went through, everything she had experienced had nearly convinced her she was dreaming, that maybe there was a point in the road where she could fall off the world and wake up back at home before this entire trip ever even happened. Like some twisted, fucked up imagination to get her to quit, but... it just kept going.

She was convinced it was still happening just for a glimmer of hope until a woman wearing even more blood than she was, perhaps just as much, stopped her and attempted to speak to her. She couldn't make out anything she said, and responded only when she noticed in the woman's hands was a book, though not the same one she saw. It looked different, but it felt so familiar. Before she could even collect herself and inquire, this woman turned and looked away, shielding Mia from what looked to be a towering figure adorned in armor looking down upon them from a nearby hill.

The voice and face was not familiar, but the words he would speak were. Like some sort of resurrection, something snapping her back into the mindset of a survivor like she was at the cabin, going to drastic lengths to make it out and fight back. She awoke and focused a furious, desperate glare at the man above who wielded a sword in one hand and the other pointed to them.

He spoke aloud, "I will swallow your souls!"

She recognized the power behind it, and she thought of her friends and all that she lost at that cabin. If there was a time to get revenge, another chance to fight back and go home... this was it.

extra media

DEV NOTES

First Published: November 25th, 2023
Last Updated: June 7th, 2024

• While originally this expansion on the "Evil Dead" chapter was going to feature Pablo and Kelly from Ash vs Evil Dead, I wanted to make it more appropriately expand out in to the rest of Evil Dead canon, celebrating heroes and villains alike throughout the series from its various tones and the way they interact with evil.• Each Survivor has their own perks meant to evoke the means they use to confront the Kandarian Demon itself. For Mia, it was about how she deals with pain and suffering, and tapping into a connection with that evil at a risk.

CREDITS

• All references to Evil Dead, "The Deadite", "Lord Arthur", "Mia Allen", "Bethany Bixler", and usage of other such characters and names belong to Renaissance Pictures.• "The Deadite", "Mia Allen", and "Lord Arthur" image renders used were taken from Evil Dead: the Game.• Perk, power, and add-on icons as well as their descriptions, lore sections and effects were created by WheatDraws using their respective canon.• Other image assets, such as icon backgrounds, portrait backgrounds and other such assets from Dead by Daylight belong to Behaviour Interactive.

Many years after the attack on Castle Kandar, Arthur knelt in a private sanctuary, silently making his prayers in the middle of the night. His sweat clung to his face, hands trembling as visions and nightmares of Deadites returned so vividly. Nightly, he'd be faced against them, only to have to retreat into the forests. His face flinched, twitching at the recollections before finding himself awoken to the loud crash of something at the stone exterior.

Quickly, he stood up an rushed to the door, throwing it open with a creak of wood and metal only to not see the quiet interior of Kandar, but a swirling vortex that pulled him forward, the greaves scraping against the stone as he tried to brace himself, stabbing his blade into the earth a few inches to keep himself from flying into the unknown magics on display. His hands quickly grew pained and sore from holding onto the grip of his weapon, but all it took was one moment of weakness to send him flying back into it, stones and sections of the castle sucked into the vortex with.

It felt like being hurled through the air, a river with no direction, or the millisecond of falling off his bedside in his nightmares as if stretched out for impossible hours or days.

Eventually he found himself out of the event, screaming as he clattered to the grassy earth along with various pieces of rubble and small items caught up in the strange event. He rolled onto his back, groaning and adjusting to the strange air he found himself surrounded in, looking up into the starless dark skies. That's when it appeared, the blurred shape of a man over him, followed by a familiar voice that expelled all air from his lungs in a groan.

"Should I be expecting Henry too, or is it just you and the big guy?"

Above him, the Chosen One, but... older. Aged, and somehow more annoying in his tone. At least this time he offered a hand up, a twist of fate compared to when this was how they encountered each other originally.

Now, he was at the mercy of Ash and others to get himself back home, but he had none of the selfishness Ash had all those years ago.

Arthur was determined to return everyone home. Even the braggart.

extra media

DEV NOTES

First Published: November 25th, 2023
Last Updated: June 7th, 2024

While originally this expansion on the "Evil Dead" chapter was going to feature Pablo and Kelly from Ash vs Evil Dead, I wanted to make it more appropriately expand out in to the rest of Evil Dead canon, celebrating heroes and villains alike throughout the series from its various tones and the way they interact with evil.
Each Survivor has their own perks meant to evoke the means they use to confront the Kandarian Demon itself. For Lord Arthur, it was about being a frontline body, taking hits and getting in the way of the enemy to save his people.

CREDITS

All references to Evil Dead, "The Deadite", "Lord Arthur", "Mia Allen", "Bethany Bixler", and usage of other such characters and names belong to Renaissance Pictures.
"The Deadite", "Mia Allen", and "Lord Arthur" image renders used were taken from Evil Dead: the Game.
Perk, power, and add-on icons as well as their descriptions, lore sections and effects were created by WheatDraws using their respective canon.
Other image assets, such as icon backgrounds, portrait backgrounds and other such assets from Dead by Daylight belong to Behaviour Interactive.

Beth spilled out with the crimson red, the sudden flow of blood carrying herself out onto the floor as she was fully submerged in the substance just moments ago. She coughed, sputtering as her eyes opened slowly. She looked around, and was no longer anywhere in the elevator, nor the parking garage. The trees didn't even look like they were anywhere in Los Angeles, but more importantly, she screamed, searching through inch-deep pool of blood that surrounded her and sunk into the dirt and grass around her.

Beth screamed for her, screaming Cassie's name, trembling as she knelt and crawled around in the pool of blood. Her fingers dug into the soaked dirt under it all, sobbing and crying into it.

Who knew how long it was before she finally looked up from the dark crimson-stain upon the earth around her, she couldn't tell. The only thing that pulled her out of it was the ominous sounds of some sort of hiss or growl behind her, causing her to spin and rise to her feet quickly, seeing only a few meters away from her some sort of pedestal standing alone. Upon it, a book bound in a similar material that she had seen before, but this one lacking teeth and sporting a human face of agony upon it. She braced herself, lured closer to it as her hands, trembling and furious was ready to tear the object in two--

But as it entered her hands she could feel a cold presence linger over her shoulder. Instinctively, she turned again to expect the face of her sister Ellie, but instead watched as an unfamiliar shape of a man was rushing forward towards her.

Whatever this thing was, she knew it wasn't any sort of ally. In a fearful instinct, she took the book and fled with it, hoping to find Cassie on the way, or a way back.

She had to find a way back.

extra media

DEV NOTES

First Published: November 25th, 2023
Last Updated: June 7th, 2024

• While originally this expansion on the "Evil Dead" chapter was going to feature Pablo and Kelly from Ash vs Evil Dead, I wanted to make it more appropriately expand out in to the rest of Evil Dead canon, celebrating heroes and villains alike throughout the series from its various tones and the way they interact with evil.• Each Survivor has their own perks meant to evoke the means they use to confront the Kandarian Demon itself. For Beth, it was reinforcing her companions and reassuring them rather than constantly combating it.

CREDITS

Originally designed in collaboration with the
Dead By Daylight Community Concept TeamFirst Published: October 3rd, 2021
Last Updated: June 7th, 2024

OVERVIEW

PERKS

SCRAP SCROUNGER
making do
born to survive

LORE

During a hunt for food, the further out Ellie got, the scarcer the wildlife became. Frustrated, she went to return with what she had gotten, only to find her trail missing. It was getting dark, and a fog rolled in.

She set up a small fire, preparing herself food and was uneasy with how the atmosphere changed. Something wasn’t right. She could feel like… someone was watching her. She focused her eyes on the trees across her campsite, barely able to make out a figure. She went to reach for a knife stowed in her pack, only to end up touching the trampled grass in shock. In almost an instant, everything shifted around her. Her campsite was far more traveled, a dirt path clearly made of what seemed like hundreds of persons moving through the area, barely living grass and tall, haunting trees.

Ellie’s heart raced, she looked around, trying to form a plan or something to defend herself with. She looked back to the trees again. The figure was still there.

RELATED CONCEPTS

media & links

Survivors Gameplay Concept

CREDITS

All references to Ellie Williams and usage of other such characters and names belong to PlayStation as part of The Last of Us series.
Ellie Williams image render used were taken from The Last of Us Part II.
Perk, power, and add-on icons as well as their descriptions, lore sections and effects were created by WheatDraws using their respective canon.
Other image assets, such as icon backgrounds, portrait backgrounds and other such assets from Dead by Daylight belong to Behaviour Interactive.

DEV NOTES

While some were hoping that Joel would have been the Survivor, Ellie is without a doubt the main character and felt more deserving of a spot as a Survivor when concepting her for Dead by Daylight, including perks and figuring out what it looks like for someone to be born in the apocalypse and survive in it, how it shapes that person who's only ever known that.

It could’ve been worse.

A station in Antarctica, full of intelligent and smart people stuck in a blizzard with a monster. They had nowhere to go as paranoia set in, and while the monster might kill them, the cold definitely will.

R. J. MacReady took charge when things got tense, being a respected member of the group who could keep an even temper, but it was hard to make decisions when everything was falling apart and splitting at the seams. The generator was destroyed, power was going away, and slowly one-by-one, everyone was picked off until MacReady turned the freezing over station into a massive bonfire, the burning building acting like a flickering ember on the surface of a frozen wasteland in the night. MacReady, freezing and finding surprising comfort in a flame and warmth he knew wouldn’t last forever, resigned himself to his fate until he saw Childs, a man who he assumed dead or abandoned the station. Unsure if he was truly a Thing or not, he waited and watched carefully as his oblivion awaited.

Just as his eyelids grew heavy, and the heat of the torched structure around him began to die out, a new cold took him. It was… warmer. Not familiar, and almost immediately comforting until he found himself in a half-melted puddle of snow and powder, propped against a tree. Still trembling, near-death in his mind, he looked around to find himself in a forested area, and a sizable campfire nearby. Crawling and rushing to it in desperation, knowing it could all be a desperate hallucination, he warmed himself slowly near it, his breath still visible in the air.

He didn’t know it yet, but there were far more monsters in these woods than in Antarctica. Thankfully, his own paranoia and trust issues made him ready, alert, and warmed the will to survive more than any fire could. As far as he was concerned, he was the only survivor of The Thing at U.S. Outpost 31.

extra media

Survivors Spotlight Concept

DEV NOTES

First Published: July 22th, 2021
Last Updated: June 7th, 2024

CREDITS

The Thing, R.J. MacReady, and other mentioned characters all belong to their respective owners.
R.J. MacReady 3D model was created and provided by Eefernal, created for the Dead by Daylight Community Concept Team and used with permission.
Image renders and textures used for R.J. MacReady were created and provided by Roman Noodles for use by the Dead by Daylight Community Concept Team and used with permission.
This concept was originally drafted and completed in collaboration with the Dead by Daylight Community Concept Team and originally posted as a video on the Rarithlynx YouTube channel.
Perk, power, and add-on icons as well as their descriptions, lore sections and effects were created by WheatDraws using their respective canon.
Other image assets, such as icon backgrounds, portrait backgrounds and other such assets from Dead by Daylight belong to Behaviour Interactive.

As Sam helped get her friends out of the lodge atop the mountain, barely avoiding death itself with the monstrous creatures that resided in this snowy, cragged environment. Waiting for the perfect opportunity, Sam rushed out the front door, heartbeat pounding in her ears, the sounds of quick nails and limbs creaking slightly with inhuman and unnatural speeds. Just as she was sure it would have reached her, she stumbled to the ground, hands and forearms against the cold dirt as she turned to look up and scream with wet eyes. Instead, she found nothing.

Sam, chest rising and falling rapidly with terrified breath, looked around, finding the familiar snow-topped trees and earth missing. Instead, a cold, dark forest around her and a layer of fog around her ankles and just beyond the treeline. Confused, she screamed for someone – Anyone. Nothing.

She began to panic, terrified of what happened to her, assuming maybe this was another vision, but it was very much real as she could hear a twig snap about twenty feet away near a tree. She froze like a deer in headlights before breaking into a sprint, immediately finding herself stuck in the iron, ruthless jaws of a bear trap. Her scream ripped through the air, and a large man with a mask she didn’t recognize approached, a bloody, brutish weapon in hand.

Moments later, she woke up, the pain still there, but alive. This was the first mistake, and the first aftermath. Many more would come, and she would adapt, hoping and praying she would find her friends in whatever fucked up nightmare she was subjected to now.

extra media

Survivors Spotlight Concept

DEV NOTES

First Published: February 10th, 2024
Last Updated: March 29th, 2025

Samantha Giddings's perkset was inspired and created with the idea of a chain reaction or the simple cause and effect.

CREDITS

Perk, power, and add-on icons as well as their descriptions, lore sections and effects were created by WheatDraws using their respective canon.
Image renders and textures used for Samantha Giddings were created and provided by Roman Noodles for use by the Dead by Daylight Community Concept Team and used with permission.
Other image assets, such as icon backgrounds, portrait backgrounds and other such assets from Dead by Daylight belong to Behaviour Interactive.

Gordon kept mental notes, his memory fresh with the flash of bright, unnatural green as a long piece of metal with jagged teeth at the end swung at him, scraping and eating small parts of the surface of the HEV Suit. It was enough to keep him alive, and get out unharmed in his first week here.

Gordon Freeman already dealt with alien kind with tools available to any common man, but he found himself without a crowbar. The occasional tree branch would do, but this offense was only permitted while his suit protected him from the elements and effects of the monstrosities here. A massive woman, straight out of ancient texts with bile dripping from her lips, a man with a mask of bone and hooks pierced into his cracked flesh, and a grossly intertwined mass of flesh and corpses held together by strings of shadow and malice. It had variety at least, but he easily could determine he wasn’t on Earth, or even Xen. Maybe somewhere in space, on some floating ball where it’s similar to Earth and constantly cold, but he had no instruments or tools of measurement. All he could do was keep taking notes as the power in his suit drained slowly over the next two months.

He knew that once the suit was depleted he would be seen as easy prey, unable to fend off the cruel and malicious effects of these monstrous killers he was subject to. Just as he had developed a bond with various other survivors and their trust, he found himself stuck in stasis around the fire. A few meters away, a familiar man in a dull-colored suit appeared in a blindly white doorway.

“I see you’ve done well for yourself, Doctor Freeman. My employers would agree this is a… less than optimal place to leave you for now, but you have seemed to adjusted well... to this place and its small hiccups, and so here you will remain.”

The man’s uncanny smile and speech pattern froze him in place, and with a small laugh, the suited man stepped back into his doorway, leaving Gordon with a few words before he could even act.

“Do let Miss Vance know that I stopped by, Mister Freeman.”

With a silent compression of the doorway, the man was gone and everything was back to as it was. Gordon took a deep breath, stilled his mind, and rose to his feet. Nudging his hand to his glasses, he went to work, convinced Alyx was also trapped somewhere in this hell. Somewhere out there, she was stuck just like he was. He would need her help to escape.

media & links

Survivors Spotlight Concept

DEV NOTES

First Published: February 10th, 2024
Last Updated: March 29th, 2025

Gordon Freeman's perkset was designed with the idea of intervention being front and center.

CREDITS

Perk, power, and add-on icons as well as their descriptions, lore sections and effects were created by WheatDraws using their respective canon.
Portrait renders and textures used for Gordon Freeman were created and provided by Roman Noodles for use by the Dead by Daylight Community Concept Team and used with permission.
Other image assets, such as icon backgrounds, portrait backgrounds and other such assets from Dead by Daylight belong to Behaviour Interactive.

Originally designed in collaboration with the
Dead By Daylight Community Concept TeamFirst Published: June 26th, 2021
Last Updated: June 7th, 2024

OVERVIEW

PERKS

Moving On
Hollow Sensation
Witness to Truth

LORE

Michael was raised as the beloved elder child of William Afton, known by many and destined by those around him to follow in his father’s success with their similar looks. It was an inescapable comparison, suffocating even just being known as “William’s Son”. Even so, he obediently followed his father’s guidance and suggestion throughout his young adult life. Eventually, that led him to terrible discoveries that would uncover horrible crimes and revelations. Michael learned of his father’s involvement in the disappearances of missing children involving his creations, and so he made it his mission to end the suffering and lasting effects of these deeds.

Michael’s progress was halted however, an amalgamation of animatronics forcing their way into the husk-like body of Michael within an underground facility. They puppetted him around, letting him rot as they used him until he was no longer a convincing suit of skin, fleeing the disgusting flesh and muscle. However, Michael still lived somehow.

This new appearance, while hideous, strengthened his belief that maybe this was his true path, one that ironically would separate him from his father as he pursued the legacy of death created by the man himself. It would be difficult, especially now, but that didn’t stop Michael.

Michael tracked down every possible lead, finding himself at a horror attraction named Fazbear’s Fright. That’s when they found him. It was no longer destroying what William Afton had left behind, it was now a matter of stopping him from continuing again. That week, the building was burnt to the ground, one of many attempts at killing William Afton.

Michael kept pursuing what his father had done, sickened, but numb to the horrors committed by the man. Michael worked with another who knew of William’s crimes, another trap lain waiting for William and those involved. Once more, a fire burned the metal, plastic and felt, a decisive blow to the plotting of William in his unlife.

Michael felt successful, nearly every shrine to his father’s legacy in ruin, but as with anyone involved in this story, there would be no freedom from the knowledge of William.

Inhaling ash, resting his eyes, Michael sputtered, coughing and curling up on a new tile floor beneath him. The man shakily curled on the floor, suddenly waking in the very establishment he saw in his dreams. Fazbear’s Fright stood once again, but was in a blaze, caught between the start and the demise of the building. He looked at his hands, scarred and dirtied, but restored to a more human-like quality. He felt his face for the first time in what felt like lifetimes ago, the stubble of a beard under his fingertips. He was brought back to life, closer than he had been to truly being alive in a long time. He couldn’t make sense of it, and wandered the building for answers, hoping this was maybe the end of it all. Could it be?

As he entered the small office space, he knew he would never know the answer to that question. His eyes locked to the shattered window, standing opposite of the glass pane a rotted and yellowed suit stood isolated.

Michael was done taking chances. He balled his fists, and stared down this horror before him.

RELATED CONCEPTS

MEDIA & LINKS

Concept Spotlight Video
Concept Gameplay Video
Chapter Concept Teaser 1
Chapter Concept Teaser 1, Hidden Message
Chapter Concept Teaser 2
Michael & Springtrap Render
Render Concept Sketch

CREDITS

"The Attraction" / Springtrap model is from Five Nights at Freddy's AR: Special Delivery developed by Illumix. The image render of it was commissioned by myself and rendered by Benj's Archive. Five Nights at Freddy's is owned by Scott Cawthon.
Michael Afton model was modified and created by Rarithlynx. The image render of it was commissioned by myself and rendered by Benj's Archive.
This concept was originally drafted and completed in collaboration with the Dead by Daylight Community Concept Team and originally posted as a video on the Rarithlynx YouTube channel.
Perk, power, and add-on icons as well as their descriptions, lore sections and effects were created by WheatDraws using the Five Nights at Freddy's franchise.
Other image assets, such as icon backgrounds, portrait backgrounds and other such assets from Dead by Daylight belong to Behaviour Interactive.

DEV NOTES

Springtrap and Michael Afton's lore and appearances are primarily based on and rooted in Five Nights at Freddy's 3, with some canon taken from games leading up to Five Nights At Freddy's: Ultimate Custom Night.
Hollow Sensation's perk icon is inspired by "Time Walk" by Amy Weber.
Five Nights at Freddy's Chapter Concept Spotlight was the very first time we ever created a video chapter concept in the spotlight format and abandoned "gameplay" videos. The reason for this is to present the same idea, but "on a nicer platter" to make it easier for people to understand and grasp what the perks and powers did without having to read everything if they didn't want to.

After his encounter with the warrior, Dutch realized the situation he was now a part of, and how the United States government would view it, regardless if they actually fully understood the truth or not. It had to come from somewhere, and that somewhere could be aware of what he managed to get through. Were they vengeful? Possibly. Did they play dirty? Only if they lost it seemed.

Dutch took some time to heal himself, to remain undetected in Guatemala as best he could while researching what locals believed the alien to be. Some called it a demon, others a spirit of sorts. Dutch knew the truth, but never enough. Once he was fit and able, he entered the same jungle, prepared to search for whatever remains were left, or if there was something he could do to stop it.

As he breached the jungle, he kept going deeper until he heard the familiar clicking noise in the distance. He followed, and as it grew clearer, the environment changed. The temperature was nowhere near as harsh, and all wildlife seemed to disappear.

That is, until he saw a crow perched on a rock, simply staring at him. He kept his eyes on it until it simply flew away, further into this jungle leaving him with nothing but a new question.

The noise he was following now came from behind, up and into the trees. It found him, but the question lingered in his mind: What did he find?

EXTRA MEDIA

Survivor Gameplay Concept
Chapter Concept Key Art

DEV NOTES

First Published: October 3rd, 2021
Last Updated: November 29th, 2024

When we had to "dress down" the model for Dutch in the Survivor Concept video, we removed most of his body armor and any weapons he had, but even then we found it funny to see him running away from a fight, so we doubled-down on making his perks about being an equal in combat or intensifying his aggression.

CREDITS

All references to Predator, Yautja, Alan "Dutch" Schaefer, and usage of other such characters and names belong to their respective owners.
Image render of Dutch sourced from Illfonic's Predator: Hunting Grounds and edited.
Image render of Predator commissioned from and created by BenjsArchive for purpose and use by Dead by Daylight Community Concept Team and edited.
This concept was originally drafted and completed in collaboration with the Dead by Daylight Community Concept Team and originally posted as a video on the Rarithlynx YouTube channel.
Perk, power, and add-on icons as well as their descriptions, lore sections and effects were created by WheatDraws using the Predator franchise.
Other image assets, such as icon backgrounds, portrait backgrounds and other such assets from Dead by Daylight belong to Behaviour Interactive.

Sam coughed up an ichor-like fluid. It didn't make a ton of sense, but many things didn't until it got to the end, at least he'd hope it would by that point.

He pushed himself up off the sand of the Beach, staggering slightly from the weight difference. He could've sworn he was carrying far more cargo not more than a minute ago.

Sam looked around, his hair still pulled back into a tight knot as he spat the last bit of fluid from his mouth to the ground.

With a soft, low grumble, he felt at his chest and immediately tensed.

They were gone.

In the same moment, the voice of a man rang out on the horizon of the Beach overlooking him, Sam bracing to sprint away.

The gold-masked individual laughed and boasted, but Sam was in no mood to stick around. He had no plan to entertain this asshole.

media & links

DEV NOTES

First Published: March 9th, 2021
Last Updated: March 15th, 2024

CREDITS

All references to Death Stranding, Sam Porter Bridges, Higgs Monaghan, and usage of other such characters and names belong to Kojima Productions and Sony Interactive Entertainment.
Image render of Sam sourced from Hideo Kojima's Twitter post and edited.
Image render of Higgs sourced from belamybryn's High Poly 3D print statue and edited.
Perk, power, and add-on icons as well as their descriptions, lore sections and effects were created by WheatDraws using the Death Stranding franchise.
Other image assets, such as icon backgrounds, portrait backgrounds and other such assets from Dead by Daylight belong to Behaviour Interactive.

Inky void all around.

The Beach and all its messes were so comprehendible, but that was the beauty of it. DOOMs sufferers knew just as much as anyone else, but could feel more.

After getting his ass kicked in a one-versus-one round that would make any FGC holler and wail at the event, Higgs stood up from the damp sand with a groan. He felt at his side, and plucked the golden mask before placing it back onto his face, clicking audibly into place as he stood upright. With an inhale of air--

This wasn't the Beach. This wasn't even the smell of fresh Timefall. This was... somewhere else.

Higgs looked around, his gear still somewhat functional, but everything was off just enough. A slight tingle in the nerves of his arm, a brief jolt through his neck. Weird, uncomfortable, but familiar sensations.

Investigating just how capable he could be in this new place should be fun, especially now that on the horizon, waking up similar to himself, he saw the man who had not more than what felt like ten minutes ago thrown a case at his head rise from the beach.

The soft whine of the Beach could be heard, the starting pistol to a new attempt at killing this so called "The Great Deliverer".

lost cargo
chrialium sample
pizza delivery
blood bag
cargo plate
electrified pole
sensor tape
beach tar
fragile teardrop
cryptobiote
damaged cargo
weather talisman
odradek terrain scanner
speed skeleton, level 2
high-capacity blood bag
bodybagged corpse
pristine cargo
sam's strand
Iridescent Death Mask
q-pid

media & links

DEV NOTES

First Published: March 9th, 2021
Last Updated: March 15th, 2024

CREDITS

All references to Death Stranding, Sam Porter Bridges, Higgs Monaghan, and usage of other such characters and names belong to Kojima Productions and Sony Interactive Entertainment.
Image render of Sam sourced from Hideo Kojima's Twitter post and edited.
Image render of Higgs sourced from belamybryn's High Poly 3D print statue and edited.
Perk, power, and add-on icons as well as their descriptions, lore sections and effects were created by WheatDraws using the Death Stranding franchise.
Other image assets, such as icon backgrounds, portrait backgrounds and other such assets from Dead by Daylight belong to Behaviour Interactive.

The sound of stone cracking, crumbling as the iron bars are pulled free could be barely heard as the battle raged on around Castle Kandar, the Army of Darkness conquering and laying waste to the men left defending the land. Ash was cutting it close, but too close, standing mere feet away from the undead warrior who now had the Necronomicon in his hands.

“No!” Ash shouted, barreling forward towards him as the armored warrior grinned through the rotted and corroded flesh upon his face. “The book is mine!” He shouted, the dark energies surging forth, blowing back all on the castle walls, some over the edge as skeletons scattered to the wind. It ripped through the air around them, Evil Ash holding the flesh-bound book in his hands with a twisted laugh rippling through space. Ash could only hold onto part of the crumbling wall, watching as dark energies enveloped the Deadite. Just as soon as it had started though, and that maniacal, vile laugh rang throughout the castle, he was gone.

The Deadite warlord and his army vanished into thin air, but the book remained, clattering to the ground with a dull thud anticlimactically. Ash slowly, and carefully rose to his feet, inching towards the book nervously all while Arthur and Henry looked onward, blades and men at the ready. A small tap of the metal gauntlet proved it probably wasn’t dangerous, and picking it up only a moment after showed the book seemed to be sated, or maybe inert.

With a heavy sigh, a confused furrowing of his brow, Ash examined the cover of this artifact. “Well, I guess that’s… that. If I ever have to see him again, it’ll be too soon.”

Castle Kandar was filled with the shouts of victorious men, some more proud to have the plague of undead over than concerned over what happened, and among them was Ash. He’d get to go home after this, and he was a hero at the end of it all so win-win, right?

Years later…

Ash ran through the brush of the Trial, breathing heavily, his older age not doing many favors for his encounters with Deadites since. Seeking a place for sanctuary from the Entity, he turned a corner to a long-forgotten stone shrine. An altar with a stone pedestal, a familiar book placed upon it. Behind it, emerging from a crimson-red gash in reality was a man who he had not seen in decades, and thought to be out of his life for good.

With a simple flourish of the blade, Evil Ash took up the Necronomicon and laughed, those same energies swirling around him as he boasted great power in his grasp.

"You'll be dead by dawn, Ash." He spat those words out like a poison, a familiar sting said many times before from just as familiar faces in the past. Before any sort of witty retort could be made, any clever comeback produced, the Deadite lunged forward with a ruthless swing of his sword.

old cabin key
stockboy name tag
feathery viscera
staffanie
wooden grave marker
cheryl's sketchpad
harpy wing
wiseman's potion
dirt-covered plastic bag
unearthed vinyls
preserved pages
cellar lock
pink f
wall mirror
ash's evil hand
horned helmet
linda's necklace
mini-ash in a bottle
iridescent kandarian dagger
knowby's records

extra media

DEV NOTES

First Published: November 25th, 2023
Last Updated: June 10th, 2025

The first version of The Deadite's power revolved around trapped Necronomicons, similar to the plot of Army of Darkness. This was changed to make the power more of a "fight over the book" and moved the idea of the mechanic to an add-on while giving him a more unique mechanical identity as someone who commands formations.

CREDITS

All references to Evil Dead, "The Deadite", "Lord Arthur", "Mia Allen", "Bethany Bixler", and usage of other such characters and names belong to Renaissance Pictures.
"The Deadite", "Mia Allen", and "Lord Arthur" image renders used were taken from Evil Dead: the Game.
Perk, power, and add-on icons as well as their descriptions, lore sections and effects were created by WheatDraws using the Evil Dead franchise.
Other image assets, such as icon backgrounds, portrait backgrounds and other such assets from Dead by Daylight belong to Behaviour Interactive.

Deep beneath Valentine Bluffs lives the terror of Valentines Day, 1981, a trauma in the bleeding heart of the earth

Well above the depths of the world is the quaint little town, cowering, terrified of the past they tried to hide, one that they held in fear

A party meant to unite the young men and women, to celebrate love and bodies, spoiled by the impostor who delved into that accursed earth and reforged the legend of Harry Warden

Not to home did his spirit return, but his ballad would play out from the dust and stone, rising to meet the darkness above, the legend itself from that Valentine's Day stalking the night while the 14th draws near

PAPER HEART DECOR
shattered lightbulb
wide shovel
crumbling candy heart
broken padlock
worker's timecard
bloody poem
newby's pipe
boiled heart
drill bit
heart-shaped card
worker's lantern
severed arm
mineshaft light fixture
loaded nail gun
valentine envelope
happy's eyeball
axel's ring
gnawed limb
iridescent candy heart

extra media

DEV NOTES

First Published: February 14th, 2021
Last Updated: June 1st, 2025

The original My Bloody Valentine film is my favorite classic slasher of all-time.
The 2009 remake of My Bloody Valentine is my least favorite slasher of all-time.

CREDITS

All references to My Bloody Valentine, Harry Warden and usage of other such characters and names belong to Paramount Pictures.
Harry Warden portrait render used was sourced from Andy Manoloff's figure.
Perk, power, and add-on icons as well as their descriptions, lore sections and effects were created by WheatDraws using the My Bloody Valentine original film.
Other image assets, such as icon backgrounds, portrait backgrounds and other such assets from Dead by Daylight belong to Behaviour Interactive.

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Pocket Blade
Dog Leash
Club Light
Simple Flora
Box of Fire
Answering Machine
Damaged Eye
Door Chain Lock
Tech-Noir Signage
Address Book
Photo of Sarah Connor
Crushed Toy Truck
Laser Sight
Dark Glasses
Punk Coat
Torn Phone Book
Burned Flesh
University ID Card
Microcomputer Chassis
Iridescent Endoskeleton Eye

CHARACTERS FEATURED IN THIS TOME

PARADOX TOME COSMETIC - "INCOMPLETE RECONFIGURATION"

01000101 01011000 01000101

Day 432201 logged. No natural winds detected. Interference remains.

No designated power resupplies scanned. Energy conservation remains active.

Estimated power supply remaining: Approximately 0.154 Solar Cycles remaining.

Mission: Reconnect with SKYNET. Mission: Kill Sarah Connor. Mission: Kill Kyle Reese.

. . .

The Terminator, in its shining chassis slipped beneath the cover of trees and shade, only glints of the moonlight above reflecting from its body and warning any wandering eyes daring enough to see it and the red glow of its eyes as it prowled. Many had been made familiar already with the undying, unending march of the Terminator. It started with an onslaught, then devolved into one woman in constant fear and attempts of fleeing the animated body. Another man came, but his name carried with the information of what it was, how it operated, and how it learned. It didn't take long for the Terminator to understand that by killing these Humans, it could thin out the barrier between it and Sarah.

What it didn't anticipate was how many times it would succeed, and still be faced with the mission again.

. . .

No contact with SKYNET.

. . .

The Terminator marched onward, its metallic skeleton dried with blood and viscera, the warmth of the weapon in its hand still radiating as it burnt into the air, invading it with the stench of a point-blank stomach shot.

The machine felt nothing, not even the satisfaction as its foot turned the solid mass of meat, hair, and skin into the remains of a Human head, condensing it into mere inches with a grotesque squelch. Some hair stuck into parts of the heel as it ripped away only hours earlier.

The victims spoke of its presence, the way it ignored all else for its ill-fated mission. Reese hissed at the idea of empathy, but few had it for the Terminator. A machine, following an echo of direction, never to truly succeed at its ultimate goal. Reese said it could deteriorate over time, it became more cruel and ruthless in its attempts at getting to him and Sarah, but few knew about the whisper in the code. The hiss in the metal. Something terrible slipped into it. It was not a satisfaction the Terminator felt in breaking bones and ripping organic matter into tatters, but the power of something overwhelming. In a language it could not execute, a string it could not parse, it felt the satisfaction of something else inside it, urging it as the machine brutally slammed the Human onto the meathook, watching it rip into the shoulder and bleed down the clothing as their screams meshed into the sound of squealing metal around it.

The Terminator did not let go, holding firmly as that hissing wound itself around the wiring and metal within, poking and prodding at its functions and designs.

Without warning, the machine pulled the Human down, ripping the hanging hook up through their shoulder, breaking bone and muscle alike as they screamed and bled, a crude gash through their body. Fingers of metal dug into the exposed insides of the shoulder, gripping wet, bloody muscle as it ripped apart, bisecting the Human in its cowering position, watching as organs lamely quivered and trembled from exposure to air, staining the metal in the process.

The satisfaction was notable, and was made aware of in the machine's internal log of complex numbers and equations in the aftermath, leaving a Human corpse that was dissolved in an ashy mist of eldritch power.

The Terminator made new notes, raising its weapon in its bloody hands and marching onward.

. . .

Estimated power supply remaining: Approximately 5.521 Solar Cycles remaining.

Mission: Kill Sarah Connor. Mission: Kill Kyle Reese. Mission: Satisfy Through Execution.

extra media

CREDITS

First Published: July 30th, 2021
Last Updated: November 10th, 2024

DEV NOTES

All references to Terminator, Skynet, Kyle Reese, Sarah Connor, and usage of other such characters and names belong to their respective owners.
Terminator portrait render commissioned by me, made by Elisaary.
Kyle Reese, Sarah Connor, and Terminator models used in the portrait render were sourced from Deathgarden: Bloodharvest's Terminator DLC, Kyle and Sarah found in the files of the DLC as they were unreleased.
Perk, power, and add-on icons as well as their descriptions, lore sections and effects were created by WheatDraws using the Terminator franchise.
Other image assets, such as icon backgrounds, portrait backgrounds and other such assets from Dead by Daylight belong to Behaviour Interactive.

Pulses. Many pulses. The hot breath of creatures filled the air, scents of humans, canine, and the distant fume of gasoline quickly whipped away by the stray arctic breeze.

They scattered, the pulses hastened. For every individual that fell, their hearts compensated, pumping furiously in anxiety.

The test worked, but did not succeed.

The outpost burned, and the remaining creatures waited it out as the dark storm turned over. Out from the snow, shambling, writhing, was the corpse of now imitated flesh, near-incomplete.

The Entity, ever curious of potential, plucked such a thing from the ruins of U.S. Outpost 31, and simply suggested it to its own realm.

Here, this Thing would assimilate still. There were pulses, many of them. In the skin of one of their own, they would hasten within mere moments as flesh split open.

Hibernation would have to wait.

norwegian records
human lung
garry's keys
severed towline
snow-coated glasses
inorganic remains
medical scalpel
vest patch
radio microphone
kennel screen door
tape recorder
palmer's headset
helicopter parts
wire spool
sedative syringe
kerosine canister
shredded long johns
defibrillator paddles
iridescent petri dish
excavated ice slab

extra media

DEV NOTES

First Published: July 22th, 2021
Last Updated: June 13th, 2025

CREDITS

The Thing, R.J. MacReady, and other mentioned characters all belong to their respective owners.
Perk, power, and add-on icons as well as their descriptions, lore sections and effects were created by WheatDraws using the Candyman franchise.
Other image assets, such as icon backgrounds, portrait backgrounds and other such assets from Dead by Daylight belong to Behaviour Interactive.

First Published: July 27th, 2022
Last Updated: June 7th, 2024

OVERVIEW

PERKS

Candidate Move
Suffocating Presence
Rend Psyche

LORE

Exploring the vast beyond, stuck in the in-between, wedged into the barren expanse in an attempt to recover from the attempt on his life.

Henry felt the burns still on his body, the sting of fleshy growths coiling around his form, still charred from the attack. They would all be broken, crushed in a single hand like all those before.

In his journey, he found a new region. Newly unexplored from the unshaped, alien stone he had encountered upon his first visit into this world. He could feel another presence, one he didn't notice before just beyond the way. There was more to this realm to explore, more uncharted territory, and possibly a new resource for him to tap into, either to regain his power with, or to unleash upon Hawkins.

Starting with a single step, Henry journeyed forth, exploring into the unknown yet again.

POWER

ADD-ONS

cloth blindfold
fred's glasses
clock key
black crayon
animal snare
ring of lights
foldable chess board
shock baton
home radio
newspaper microfilm
strange rock fragment
maze cube
victor's ring
widow egg sac
concealed razorblade
piece of vecna
grandfather clock
spider in a jar
soteria inhibitor
henry's drawing

RELATED CONCEPTS

MUSIC & LINKS

Concept Theme Music

CREDITS

Henry Creel, "The Curse", and other such characters or references to are owned by Netflix.
Perk, power, and add-on icons as well as their descriptions, lore sections and effects were created by WheatDraws using the Candyman franchise.
Other image assets, such as icon backgrounds, portrait backgrounds and other such assets from Dead by Daylight belong to Behaviour Interactive.

DEV NOTES

The Glory of Phyrexia knew no bounds.

The Great Work Begins.

No world would be safe, no realm would be out of reach from the invasion tree, and no creature, mortal or God would escape Phyrexia's perfect touch.

This was but one corner of the multiverse, a brief stop on the way to assured victory against imperfect flesh. All Elesh Norn ever saw in this small, miniscule world was soft, fleshy things that were under-developed. Many had grime on their hands and face, some had malformed limbs or crude items jutting out from the skin, surely a failed attempt at their own perfection, but of course was a failure.

Thankfully, she arrived.

A break in the sky, shattering inward like a fault in a vacuum, the large root of Realmbreaker shot through, digging through the guts of reality and sewing its barbed length into the battlefield of simple tools and basic machines. They looked up, like mortals unto God, fear and awe in their eyes. Striding down, arms held open in a welcoming embrace, The Mother of Machines opened her mouth to speak as more roots and branches broke into the distance of the Entity's Realm, reacting with a violent hiss as Elesh Norn invaded into yet another world that awaited her deliverance.

"All Will Be One."

blightsteel relic
spellbomb casing
mite corpse
throne piece
chitin carapace
tainted aether vial
numbing dosage
compleated flesh
watcher's eye
isochron scepter
oxidized lattice
justicar's forearm
phyrexian incubator
veil of assimilation
mindslaver
molten material
filigree sylex
chalice of the void
sword of wrack and ruin
iridescent mox

extra media

DEV NOTES

First Published: July 31st, 2023
Last Updated: June 7th, 2024

CREDITS

Elesh Norn / "The Praetor" is owned by Wizards of the Coast.
The image render for Elesh Norn / "The Praetor" was taken from Magic Arena.
Perk, power, and add-on icons as well as their descriptions, lore sections and effects were created by WheatDraws using the Magic: the Gathering franchise.
Other image assets, such as icon backgrounds, portrait backgrounds and other such assets from Dead by Daylight belong to Behaviour Interactive.

THIS CONCEPT FEATURES CUSTOM MUSIC. FIND IT IN THE MUSIC PLAYER AT THE BOTTOM OF THIS WEBPAGE.

SCP-049 went along with the Foundation’s interests, only because they suited their own. After all, their benevolence would result in curing all of their kind in the greatest flaw plaguing life around itself: The Pestilence.

A near endless disease, festering and rotting the air of the world, polluting with each spoken word and stifling thought in the mind of the infected. SCP-049 knew it must be helped, even if they did not see it that way, resulting in various and many breaches of containment and security concerns. Creatures that SCP-049 cured would soon rise again from a state of death, as if resurrected by a divine touch, and turned hostile to any others not like them.

It’s been years since. Many various attempts have been made, many new sites have been both erected and attempted to be breached through, but none have yet been successful. At least, not in this world. SCP-049 wore the familiar and heavy Humanoid Restraint Harness, their hands balled and contained cloth surrounded by hardened metal, shoulders and elegant posture deflated by some degree due to the weight of the collar over their own shoulders as they were deposited into back into their temporary containment chamber. Several months prior, they had been moved to this location to test for an on-site SCP interaction, though they had no idea of what it meant other than being offering a “new opportunity to cure something”, which piqued curiosity enough to play along. While awaiting for a security check in, already confined to the H.R.H. in preparation for guards in their chamber, something was off. The sound of heavily muffled gunfire from the other side of the mirror could be heard, vibrating against the reflective surface.

Minutes later, the door to the chamber opened, and one of the security officers approached, face drenched in sweat, staining the facial hair upon the man’s face as he took off his helmet and several other guards entered as well, looking as nervous as the first.

“The Insurgency, is it?” SCP-049 asked, curious, having known about their prior attempts, knowing it often led to one of several names. Surely this must be another attempt.

“No,” The unmasked man responded breathlessly, holding an unmistakably complex key in hand. “I only wish to serve. This is our rite.” He approached, moving around to the back of the collar, inserting the strange key into a near-invisible opening. His meaning wasn’t clear, but the intention was. Always someone else with a plan.

The anomalous creature was observant, spotting a strange but visible tattoo barely hidden on the flesh under the cloth and armor of the uniform of the ‘saviors’. How odd, they had never seen such markings before, but as the metal clicked and released, falling with a heavy weight to the ground and slam of its weight gave back SCP-049’s posture and stature. With a raspy exhale, they turned to face their rescuer.

“You are just the sort of thing we need, the thing that the Black Vale will need to make our connection.” One of the guards answered, her voice excited and shaky. The unmasked man nodded eagerly in agreement. ”The things you could do would allow us to sacrifice in the name of our–” SCP-049’s hand clasped the man’s shoulder firmly, holding him. “Ah. I appreciate your assistance, zealot, but we are still sealed within this facility.”

The man looked unsure, nervous, truly a fresh-face as his allies also looked more nervous now. “We infiltrated the facility though… Wh– what if we snuck out? No one knows we’re here yet.”

SCP-049’s grip tightened slightly, thinking deeply. It was true, there were no sounds of alarm throughout the facility like before, so they had the advantage on their side… This was a stealth operation so far, but perhaps an additional distraction would allow for a better avenue of escape. The robed figure laughed, “Perhaps you will assist me in escaping then after all.” The man smiled, a brief bout of confidence bolstered each other as SCP-049’s grip did not relent.

. . .

Screams rang out through the control room, various instances of other guards already turned into mindless and enraged people cured of their afflictions painting the floors of the space crimson, only a meter from the emergency alarms. Walking toward the console, SCP-049 hummed a gentle tune, watching and witnessing the layout of this new location, seeing what else was new here and what had been brought over. How fortunate that a routine inspection was placed over one specific chamber in particular.

With a gentle, surgical amount of pressure, a release override rang throughout the facility. A massive, square chamber unsealed itself, helpless researchers and guards with no preparations were faced with the familiar, pale-faced creature as it sobbed and howled. Before it even was visible on the cameras, SCP-049 knew its stealthy approach towards their distraction would allow for an escape now. With the procession of the cured in tow, they pathed through the facility, taking out any who got in the way, adding to the ranks.

Nearly two hours of travel before SCP-049 had arrived at an exit, seeing the bright sunlight of the surface shining through. What a beautiful place, far removed from the familiar sights of Europe. In the distance near a cloudy sky, a large mountain, likely volcanic, had missed a part of its peak, tipped in white like many of the other summits visible.

The strange peace was disrupted, however, and before SCP-049 could take a true step out into freedom, the sound of a small piece of glass cracked in the distance, as if dwarfing all other sound, and from deep within the depths of the facility and heavy, dense fog blew outward and buffeted both SCP-049 and the cured at their side, some toppled over entirely in the process.

To many within the region, in the distance a belch of smoke and fog erupted from the forested mountainside, drawing concern and filling the sky briefly, assuming it to be a sign of a wildfire, but authorities reported no sign of any disturbance. To the Foundation, this was an extremely expensive cover-up that had to be done quickly, but even to them, it was unclear what exactly had happened. Any loose anomalies had been secured, but several were reported missing entirely, including SCP-049 and all instances of their cured.

euclidlore

Ordinary Toaster
Embalming Tool
Loose Tooth
Drawing Pad
DVR DEVICE
Audio Reel
Photo of a Window
Letter Blocks
Ceramic Bowl
Miraculous Medicine
Red Disc
Betamax Tape
GOAT CARCASS
Tempting Rose
Silver Hand Bell
X-Ray Imaging
Lake Water Sample
Doctor's Bag
Misplaced Information
Class III H.R.H.

CHARACTERS FEATURED IN THIS TOME

BREACH TOME COSMETIC - "ALCHEMIST'S ALLY"

Site ███ Transfer

SCP-049 hummed a long-forgotten tune, gently feeling along the length of an intestine laid out upon its operating table. Its surroundings were sterile, clean, and well-lit. No corner was unaccounted for, and revealed the familiar one-way mirror along the wall and a man standing in the corner in a pale white lab coat. He twitched, his thick moustache reacting with the muscles as he waited for a response.

“Well?”

SCP-049 didn’t bother looking up, gently pushing a needle through the organ as it emptied itself of grotesque fluids, the deceased animal laid out and butchered upon the slab. “I’m considering the offer, doctor.”

“It wasn’t an offer.” He retorted more sternly, the lab coat took a few more steps forward, closer to the range of vision of the SCP. “You will be moved to a new site, and since you’re one of the more reasonable anomalies here we can talk with, we figured we could get you to be more agreeable about it.”

“Agreeable? Am I a distrustful, tantrum-prone child now, doctor?” SCP-049 squeezed down on the intestine, slowly pushing and squeezing vile material out one way until it spilled into a small prepared dish with various instruments and tools nearby.

The doctor scoffed, shaking his head. “Not at all, no. But there is a level of trust to be had, and honesty. I think we can both agree that goes a long way, even if neither of our sides have been truly honest in the past with each other.” He gestured, waving with a clutched manila folder in hand. SCP-049 glanced over, a thin metal prod buried in the brown-red material, digging it out and inspecting its contents. The icy blue eyes of the anomaly looked back to the man. “... So how much of a truth are you willing to share this time, doctor?”

“Enough.” He carefully emptied the contents onto a clean, empty space on the slab. A few photos spilled out, heavily redacted documents too, all detailing an anomalous object and individual. SCP-049 glanced over it as the man began to speak again. “We’ve got a facility elsewhere, with a subject we cannot move for a few factors. You’d be temporarily rehoused at that site, given all that you have here, just a different staff and different livestock than mountain goats here.” The doctor looked at the carcass, the stain of blood and innards making the familiar color of it almost impossible to distinguish at this point. “You’ll be queued up to be part of a testing process with an instance of another SCP, to see if you can ‘cure’ them.”

SCP-049 continued working with their hands, examining its subject with delicate movements and involved physicality all while glancing casually over the files presented. “The girl?” They gestured, the photo of a woman looking forward against a plain white backdrop. “She seems unremarkable, but like you and others, you all can be cured in time.” SCP-049 spoke casually, not even threatening, knowing how quickly the Foundation would crack down on them for acting on such a thing, but verbalizing it was permitted… to a degree.

The doctor pushed the photo gently, “We would like to believe you won’t be able to ‘cure her.” In an instant, their eyes locked, the tension and air grew thick and heavy. The sound of tools gently clicking against each other stopped. The soft whirring of machines nearby could be heard still in the moment.

“Are you attempting to goad me?”

“No, I am informing you of what we expect you to do, because if you had any amount of curiosity like us, you would also want to know why we believe so strongly you won’t be able to do this.”

The two kept fixed on each other, just outside the chamber doors, armed guards waited for any sign of a disturbance or struggle.

SCP-049 straightened their back, standing upright and pulling their bloody and gore-painted hands from the stomach of the goat, holding the edge of the surgical slab it was placed on. “Your confidence is always misplaced, doctor.”

The doctor shrugged, shuffling the documents back together and sliding them back into the manila folder. “Sometimes. But if you behave, perhaps we’ll give you back some of those benefits you used to have.” He sealed the folder, tucking it back under an arm. “Think about it. You have a month before we are scheduled to move you.”

SCP-049 remained still, deep in thought as the door behind them opened and closed softly, leaving the sterile room quiet and empty. Several researchers looked on, monitoring everything and making a note of any changes, but none could reach into the mind of the anomaly themselves. A month is far too soon, this must be either risky, or a favor to someone. Where there is haste, there is a flaw… Perhaps after all, this might be a boon. If they could not prove their methods foolproof, they may find an escape through it, in a place not as familiar with their routines and methods.

With a small laugh and shake of the head, SCP-049 went back to work, humming that tune once more, ruminating on the possibilities that await them.

extra media

CHAPTER KEY ART
CONCEPT MUSIC VIDEO
Teaser Storyboard
PROMO RENDER

DEV NOTES

First Published: May 31st, 2023
Last Updated: August 29th, 2025

While the original DBDCCT video and teaser never made it to the public due to legal concerns that we hadn't realized until the last minute, this concept stays close to what we originally envisioned for the concept video and was intended to be a last hurrah and celebration before taking a break.

CREDITS

All music tracks for this concept were commissioned by myself and created by ScooteyBootey.
All reference depicting and using any SCP Foundation-related material is under CC-BY-SA. To use my own work in reference to the SCP related material on this website, please credit me appropriately. For the credits of all mentioned and referenced SCP articles and creations, they are listed at the bottom of the Credits section.
3D models of "SCP-049" and "SCP-106" were created by Aruspice, Shakles, and PixelPuffin, which were released to the public for use.
This concept was originally drafted and completed in collaboration with the Dead by Daylight Community Concept Team and originally posted as a video on the Rarithlynx YouTube channel.
Perk, power, and add-on icons as well as their descriptions, lore sections and effects were created by WheatDraws using the Candyman franchise.
Other image assets, such as icon backgrounds, portrait backgrounds and other such assets from Dead by Daylight belong to Behaviour Interactive.

THIS CONCEPT FEATURES CUSTOM MUSIC. FIND IT IN THE MUSIC PLAYER AT THE BOTTOM OF THIS WEBPAGE.

SCP-106 laid still in his containment chamber, passing the time by the faint, almost impossible vibrations of screams and pain through the walls, deep within the facility. Only a few months prior, he had the pleasure of someone being lured into his domain, door locked behind them, and he ripped them apart, savoring her screams and fear. At the time, it was just entertainment, but he could hear those screams again through the walls in whispered vibrations… He swore he left little of her behind, but she was still somewhere deep below. Maybe whatever was left in that aftermath of that violent encounter, just after the Foundation had sedated him after playing in a pool of viscera.

He savored the taste, hoping to witness it once again, and thankfully, he would very soon. The sounds of sirens could be heard rippling like a shiver up the spine through the walls, striking at the nerves of the Foundation itself. Panicked researchers scattered amongst the facility and chamber, seeking shelter in the mayhem, and SCP-106 stared into the rotted, decayed camera posted in his chamber with a wicked grin.

Another was on the loose, a familiar, brutal creature had broken in to get one of the fleeing researchers, mutilating multiple others in the way for nearly an hour. It was enough to start breaking the improvised containment surrounding him, allowing for him to slip through the cracks easily after a time working and rotting away the materials.

Around him was beautiful mayhem, destruction, and suffering. Amongst the cries and fears of those cowering, wisely covering their face, he could smell the air. Somewhere, deeper down, the familiar pain lingered in his mind. That girl was there, a plaything that couldn’t just feel every moment, but could relive it all, again and again. With a malicious grin, he stepped forward, sinking into the floor of the facility, rotting downward and corroding the facility structure in his path.

He could trace his path cutting through and past the corners that the pale, gaunt monstrosity did. A building frustration was brewing within him, angry to know that perhaps he wouldn’t get to the girl time in, but continued into the subterranean depths of the facility, eventually finding himself in unfamiliar halls, clean and friendly looking compared to the rest of the facility, however the walls were now decorated in blood and gunshots as the distant howling and screaming of the monstrosity could be heard further within. Just beneath that noise, the screaming of the girl too. With a grin, he stepped forward, wandering down the long halls, but just as he came close, a loud and sudden crack of glass rang out as if the world fractured itself. Without a moment to react, SCP-106 watched a torrent of dark fog flood the hall ahead of him and swarm around him, hurling him back into a dark expanse unfamiliar to his eyes and ears.

It was only for a moment, but by the time he could look around himself again, it was an empty expanse of blood-pumping sensations. He did not hear the distant crows, or see the dark tree tops against a night sky, but he could feel the heartbeat of hundreds of others, full of fear and desperation. And the scent… So much blood. It reinvigorated him, already salivating and drooling like the murderous beast he was.

Somewhere, he could just barely make out the girl amongst the noise, but he had plenty of distractions to keep him company as he saw a wounded creature limping in the distance, holding a bloody wound at their side. A singular misery in a sea of it that called to him. Perhaps this was paradise.

euclidlore

cup of something
lure subject's remains
surgical bonesaw
rock
3-d glasses
printed transcript
lost teddy bear
confiscated phone
"me against the world"
disintegrated cardboard
alternate map
polaroid camera
toxic air sample
mucus-infested debris
reflections of '76
ornate coffin
sealed manila folder
fistful of teeth
immolated documents
the peanut gallery

CHARACTERS FEATURED IN THIS TOME

BREACH TOME COSMETIC - "GNAWING HUNGER"

Incident Report #████-G1

Submitted by Researcher Jonas Overseen and reviewed by Dr. ████████

SCP-106 has been placed in temporary hold at Site ███, and as such, Site ███ staff that work closely with SCP-████ have requested to utilize SCP-106 for testing with SCP-████-1. With heavy amnestics ready from the Amnestics Research and Development team, the premise is to bring SCP-████-1 up to the higher floors and reveal truths of the Foundation slowly before luring the subject into SCP-106’s chambers for a durability and regenerative test. We have calculated that such a test may take SCP-████-1 out of commission from performing the work required in the Mineralogy Wing. Staff performers acting as their colleagues have already prepared to inform and assume an accident with a fume leak will have caused intense headaches and disorientation. If memory leaks through the amnestic, we have additional measures to ensure none of this event is remembered to maintain the testing environment of SCP-████-1 afterward.

Both I, Researcher Jonas and Dr. ████████ have volunteered to lead SCP-████-1 to the upper levels as I have a repertoire with SCP-████-1 within her testing environment. While we ascend, in SCP-████’s containment chamber it will be closely observed and guarded for any anomalous behavior that may cause issue or raise newfound results or reactions.

The following are excerpts of the transcript of recorded segments of SCP-████-1 being led into SCP-106’s chamber. SCP-████-1 from here on out may be referred to as ‘Lucía Sofía Santos’ to maintain her containment procedures.

[ SCP-████-1 and an escort team, including Researcher Jonas and Dr. ████████ have held a continued discussion about the Foundation and are being cleared for security outside of SCP-106’s chamber. ]

LUCÍA SOFÍA SANTOS: That… is insane. Wow, ha ha. So is that why you guys are always so weird to me, like [ Redacted nickname for Dr. ████████ ] over here?

[ SCP-████-1 and Researcher Jonas both laugh as they are checked for hazardous materials by staff and cleared. ]

DR. ████████: Are you two done? We need to get this going.

[ Dr. ████████ takes a seat at a console overlooking the chamber via an observation window and puts a headset on. Personnel are required to observe via headset as to not overload the observation room speakers during testing. ]

RESEARCHER JONAS: Here, come on Lu. I’ll show you the containment chamber. Right now, we don’t have anything here – It’s just a maintenance check and overhaul right now.

[ Researcher Jonas and SCP-████-1 both enter the containment chamber and use the cover story provided in the test trial outline. Dr. ████████ and other staff confirm the status of the secondary team observing SCP-████. Shortly after, Researcher Jonas quickly appears back in the observation room with a panicked expression. ]

[ ADMIN NOTE: Researcher Jonas compromises many trials with SCP-████-1 due to a personal interest and friendship with it. Dr. ████████ recommends termination for such compromised test results, as seen later. ]

[ Researcher Jonas takes a seat with a headset as SCP-████-1 looks back through the chamber entrance and laughs nervously. ]

LUCÍA SOFÍA SANTOS: Hey, guys? You locked me in. Funny joke, I get it, new girl! Ha. ... Guys, come on, open up, the chemicals in this room reek...

[ Researcher Jonas hesitates to reach for the communications button before holding and speaking into the chamber speakers. ]

RESEARCHER JONAS: I’m sorry –

[ Other staff in the room reported glares or a silent exchange between Researcher Jonas and Dr. ████████ while SCP-████-1 continues to plead more nervously to the one-way mirror from inside the containment chamber. ]

RESEARCHER JONAS: I’m sorry. You will not remember any of this, SCP-████-1. We’re doing this for research, for the Foundation. Please do not – No, do not panic, there’s nothing you can –

[ While SCP-████-1 frantically tries to find a seam in the door to pry it open Dr. ████████ takes communication control from Researcher Jonas and disables his microphone. ]

DR. ████████: You are SCP-████-1. That is all you are allowed, not that you’ll remember. Thank you for your contribution.

[ Dr. ████████ and Researcher Jonas get into a heated debate over how to handle SCP-████-1, primarily emotionally. Researcher Jonas eventually recedes to his chair and observes. ]

[ Approximately 10 minutes into the recording of the interaction between SCP-106 and SCP-████-1, Researcher Jonas excuses himself and throws off his headset. Security staff that followed him reported that he was shouting expletives in the restrooms and purged at least once before returning to observation. ]

CONCLUSION:

SCP-106 was subdued in the aftermath after a single failed attempt to do so after approximately 2 hours of violent dismemberment of SCP-████-1. It was another 48 minutes before amnestics team had developed a new alternative to allow for subduing and clean-up. Two major bodily organs of SCP-████-1 were found intact and with moderate functional damage. Clean-up has gathered approximately 86% of SCP-████-1’s body mass and accumulated it into a singular package toward SCP-████’s containment chamber in the Minerology Wing. Presumed the remainder has either been consumed or been considered contaminated by SCP-106’s deterioration effects, making recovery nearly impossible.

SCP-████ had no reaction to the attacks and harm inflicted by SCP-106, but did emit an unknown energy for the following two weeks before most of SCP-████-1’s remains managed to reconstitute into a full body again, but had flooded the room with an unknown haze or fog that obscured any visual observations. SCP-████-1 had no recollection of the events, but had reported continuous nightmares and stresses following the event.

I advise to not test these two SCPs together ever again unless we’re confident we’ll get another result. It is too risky and we had almost considered SCP-████-1 dead permanently instead of regenerating and reconstituting. This dangerous trial run nearly ruined our main on-site test SCP and I will certainly be filing another complaint directly to the administration for this lack of care or consideration.

extra media

CHAPTER KEY ART
CONCEPT MUSIC VIDEO
Teaser Storyboard
PROMO RENDER

DEV NOTES

First Published: May 31st, 2023
Last Updated: August 28th, 2025

While the original DBDCCT video and teaser never made it to the public due to legal concerns that we hadn't realized until the last minute, this concept stays close to what we originally envisioned for the concept video and was intended to be a last hurrah and celebration before taking a break.

CREDITS

All music tracks for this concept were commissioned by myself and created by ScooteyBootey.
All reference depicting and using any SCP Foundation-related material is under CC-BY-SA. To use my own work in reference to the SCP related material on this website, please credit me appropriately. For the credits of all mentioned and referenced SCP articles and creations, they are listed at the bottom of the Credits section.
3D models of "SCP-049" and "SCP-106" were created by Aruspice, Shakles, and PixelPuffin, which were released to the public for use.
3D model of Lucia Santos was created by Roman Noodles for use by me.
Portrait renders made by Roman Noodles for use by me.
This concept was originally drafted and completed in collaboration with the Dead by Daylight Community Concept Team and originally posted as a video on the Rarithlynx YouTube channel.
Perk, power, and add-on icons as well as their descriptions, lore sections and effects were created by WheatDraws using the respective license and reference material.
Other image assets, such as icon backgrounds, portrait backgrounds and other such assets from Dead by Daylight belong to Behaviour Interactive.

The burning of her skin and hair filled her nostrils, nerves obliterated as her body resigned to a death by immolation, her extended hands holding baby Anthony felt lighter, finally rescuing an innocent from the obsessive, derranged clutches of a wayward spirit who knew no rest.

She imagined her funeral was a beautiful one, to be seen by her friends and family, but instead she had her own congregation. One that buried her with relic of her manipulator. She wasn't there, of course, but like a bell run, the hook sent falling into the abyss of her grave knocked upon the lid, and she gasped air for the first time in what felt like only minutes.

She looked around, trembling and shaking, the shock of life struck into her body as she laid on a scattered bed of leaves and dirt. She wasn't in Chicago, not even close. Cabrini-Green was nowhere to be seen, neither was the burn pile she remembered delving into before emerging from the blaze in the middle of the night.

Was she dead? Did she die? She woke up like this once before, from a dream, and it resulted in baby Anthony's disappearance. She was terrified that something horrible had happened yet again, but instead she found herself with strangers looking on in fear at the familiar figure near the treeline.

She was terrified, her mind cleared, eyes watering with hypnotic focus upon him. She was speechless, unable to comprehend just how real this enduring nightmare was now. This death would be nothing less than an eternal dream of torment at the hands of Candyman.

extra media

Concept Theme Music

DEV NOTES

First Published: February 19th, 2024
Last Updated: June 7th, 2024

CREDITS

All references to Candyman, Helen Lyle, and usage of other such characters and names belong to their respective owners.
Image render of Helen Lyle sourced from a screenshot of the Candyman (1992) film and edited.
Image render of Candyman sourced from Candyman 1:3 Scale Collectable Statue and edited.
This concept was originally drafted and completed in collaboration with the Dead by Daylight Community Concept Team and originally posted as a video on the Rarithlynx YouTube channel.
Perk, power, and add-on icons as well as their descriptions, lore sections and effects were created by WheatDraws using the Candyman franchise.
Other image assets, such as icon backgrounds, portrait backgrounds and other such assets from Dead by Daylight belong to Behaviour Interactive.

From the fires of Cabrini-Green, his congregation watched. Like ash in the air, a swarm rose from the blaze, filling the night sky as if scattered to the wind, filling the Chicago air.

The heat was not too unlike the sun of an open field he once laid in, looking up at shadow-casting men, women and children. The pain lasted forever, and even as the life left his body, the emptiness it left within him was filled with that pain, overflowing into him as his blood stained the ground, mixing into smeared honey.

He remembered the sun. He remembered the fire. The taste of honey, the taste of ash...

And now, a crisp air filled the space around him, taking it in. The pain, the tortured memories of deaths beyond imagining, the love he felt being taken from him in those moments as he inhaled. The air was cool, the night was dark, and in front of him, a woman he had been convinced left him once.

She looked on in awe of him, while others around her looked on in fear as his spread, open arms unveiled the rotted meat entwining within his exposed ribcage.

"Helen," he spoke, his voice like an echo in the mind and exhaling, the last taste of Cabrini-Green leaving his manifested form. "You came back to me."

candymanlore

thesis research
scorched wood
cabrini-green photo
gas can
bee stinger
medicine cabinet
painting easel
rusty saw
anne-marie's name tag
robitaille's ashes
bouquet of flowers
newspaper microfilm
weatherproof camera
bloody dog collar
slide projector
shattered hand mirror
crushed honeycomb
painter's brushes
funeral casket
iridescent mural piece

extra media

Concept Theme Music

DEV NOTES

First Published: August 20th, 2020
Last Updated: June 10th, 2025

Back in 2020-ish, I had a conversation with a friend about Candyman in Dead by Daylight that spawned an inside joke about "the bee radius" and since then in every iteration of this concept, there has always been some sort of bee radius because I think it's a very funny sentence to have to take seriously. I have since removed it in the current iteration of the concept for the sake of making sure Candyman had something weird, unique, and special to him.

CREDITS

All references to Candyman, Helen Lyle, and usage of other such characters and names belong to their respective owners.
Image render of Helen Lyle sourced from a screenshot of the Candyman (1992) film and edited.
Image render of Candyman sourced from Candyman 1:3 Scale Collectable Statue and edited.
Perk, power, and add-on icons as well as their descriptions, lore sections and effects were created by WheatDraws using the Candyman franchise.
Other image assets, such as icon backgrounds, portrait backgrounds and other such assets from Dead by Daylight belong to Behaviour Interactive.

Mother is talking to you, Jason ...

Jason ... They're still out there. He's still out there.

Kill for Mother, Jason. They deserve to suffer.

You can't let them get away, Jason. Kill them!

Sacrifice them for me, dear.

Kill, Jason! Kill!

Burlap sack
bloody arrowhead
knife sheath
alice's drawing
cruise ticket
twisted belt
counselor's shirt
gore-filled sleeping bag
illegal substance
monster mask
camp forest green sign
road flare
paintball headband
fancy corkscrew
dislodged eyeball
counselor's backpack
LAKE-BOUND CHAINS
IMPOSTOR'S MASK
mother
warm sweater

extra media

Concept Theme Music

DEV NOTES

First Published: September 26th, 2020
Last Updated: June 6th, 2025

CREDITS

All references to Friday the 13th, "The Slasher", "Tommy Jarvis", and usage of other such characters and names belong to their rightful owners.
Tommy Jarvis portrait image render is an edited screenshot from Friday the 13th: The Game.
Jason Voorhees image render taken from Sideshow Collectables and edited.
Perk, power, and add-on icons as well as their descriptions, lore sections and effects were created by WheatDraws using the Friday the 13th franchise.
Other image assets, such as icon backgrounds, portrait backgrounds and other such assets from Dead by Daylight belong to Behaviour Interactive.

Limp in one hand, the corpse of some human-thing dangled weakly. Some life remained, but not enough to survive what came next as a quick hiss of metal slipped through the soft flesh. Precision movements split open the back and delving a hand inside the now corpse, retrieving the length of spine and skull with a vicious rip.

The hunt had many false starts, many disappointing endings, and offered nothing more than a pile of disappointing trophies.

Discarding the dripping item, it and its previous shell were discarded to the grassy forest floor. There was nothing worth pursuing, each were frail and had no intention to defend themselves.

But then, the challenge came. A bellowing roar from something, a human likely in the dark of the night. Climbing up the length of a tree and looking out further into this strange land was a flickering light and a vague suggestion of a person. Such a display was not in defiance of a hunter, but to dare consider them such an easy selection of prey. Only a brief moment of consideration had prevented the hunter from acting on this opportunity before bounding tree to tree, branch to branch, and releasing its own bellowing roar throughout the Entity's realm.

The hunt begins again.

bloody dog-tags
broken axe head
portable medicomp dish
disintegrator gas
gold tooth's namesake
guatemala reports
african dagger
warhammer piece
orange totsiyaa
blain's hat
ottoman blade
warrior spear
camo headband
CUT CLAMP
folding WRIST SHIELD
GUNPOWDER horn
Roaring Torch
Pyramid Petroglyph
ADOLINI'S FLINTLOCK
IRIDESCENT targeting system

extra media

Outdated Concept Video
Chapter Concept Key Art

DEV NOTES

First Published: April 24th, 2021
Last Updated: November 29th, 2024

The original Predator Gameplay Concept Video is easily my least favorite of the Dead by Daylight Community Concept Team videos. It also had the shortest development time and turnaround, that being approximately two to three weeks.
The revamp of the power you see now focuses on the idea of how the hunt is always a contest between creatures, and I wanted that to be central to how the Trophy system works and how it can influence or empower people as well as playstyles.

CREDITS

Originally designed in collaboration with the
Dead By Daylight Community Concept Team

All references to Predator, Yautja, Alan "Dutch" Schaefer, and usage of other such characters and names belong to their respective owners.
Image render of Dutch sourced from Illfonic's Predator: Hunting Grounds and edited.
Image render of Predator commissioned from and created by BenjsArchive for purpose and use by Dead by Daylight Community Concept Team and edited.
This concept was originally drafted and completed in collaboration with the Dead by Daylight Community Concept Team and originally posted as a video on the Rarithlynx YouTube channel.
Perk, power, and add-on icons as well as their descriptions, lore sections and effects were created by WheatDraws using the Predator franchise.
Other image assets, such as icon backgrounds, portrait backgrounds and other such assets from Dead by Daylight belong to Behaviour Interactive.

His mouth tasted of dust, dried and itching at his throat in the darkness of the castle.

Daniel, his mind wiped of the familiarity of the castle only sees echoes of it, like brush strokes or stains of watercolor warping and reshaping what once was fresh in his mind. He could hear the distant scrapes on old stone, the kickup of dust and discarded items on the floors of Brennenburg by creatures not himself.

He had no reason to trust anything here, especially the strange shapes this castle took. His head throbbed with pain, a hand going to clutch his forehead as his other hand trembled, the lantern carried high in it squeaking as it swayed.

A deep, gurgle of noise, nearly a hiss came over his shoulder. Immediately, he spun around and found nothing but darkness. Darkness of a hallway he had just travelled, turned into a new hallway. He turned again, and the formations around him changed, noises rippling out from all sides towards him, driving him closer to madness.

This would be the only familiar thing to him as he would learn that he is no longer in a world of his own or his mind's making. Something else entirely now, something no where near as familiar as those stains of paints that shaped vague suggestions of castle walls and corridors.

Pure, unlit blackness of the dark approached.

And Daniel remembered what it felt like to be terrified for the first time again.

EXTRA MEDIA

Spotlight Video
Key Art Wallpaper

CREDITS

First Published: July 1st, 2023
Last Updated: June 7th, 2024

All references to Amnesia, "The Gatherer", "Daniel", and usage of other such characters and names belong to Frictional Games.
"The Gatherer" / Grunt model was created by Frictional Games.
"Daniel" 3D model was created and provided by Eefernal, created for the Dead by Daylight Community Concept Team and used with permission.
Image renders and textures used for "Daniel" and "The Gatherer" were created and provided by Roman Noodles and used with permission.
This concept was drafted and completed in collaboration with the Dead by Daylight Community Concept Team and originally posted as a video on the Rarithlynx YouTube channel.
Perk, power, and add-on icons as well as their descriptions, lore sections and effects were created by WheatDraws using the Amnesia franchise.
Other image assets, such as icon backgrounds, portrait backgrounds and other such assets from Dead by Daylight belong to Behaviour Interactive.

DEV NOTES

Originally designed in collaboration with the
Dead By Daylight Community Concept Team

While the concept was meant to focus on the original Amnesia title, throughout the perks, add-ons, and other items reference the other titles in the series.

Pain and misery. A physical form nightmarish in shape, and even worse in function. The experience of being carelessly pieced together and torn apart, left a strange, barely recognizable shape of a human if one could call it that.

A twitch of the blackened claws in the crushed mass of a hand, sent a cascade of pain through the arm, to the bones as they pushed against swollen and disgusting muscle. Leathery skin wrapped tight, stitched and repaired, making sure the torment of the form remained contained within this unsightly creation.

If such a creation could cry out for pain, if it could beg for mercy, to be put down and given an escape, it surely would. But all it could do is lash out, becoming a nightmare in the mind of the feeble, becoming a bane to the strong, and a foil to the curious.

These grunts, these creations were in no way like any man. Man has a choice, they can change their lives, they can make compromises, and they can make their suffering end.

This thing has no such choice, no such freedom, and the only remaining quality of man, or imprint from man itself is suffering and torment.

This very being, once bound to Brennenburg Castle, has come with it. In the realm of the Entity, it manifests itself in a far more physical way. More lethal, more ruthless, and more distressed. A new tool, and a new weapon to be wielded more directly be a force as cruel as the Entity.

Aqua Regia
Orpiment
Cuprite
Calamine
Tinderbox
Hollow Needle
Traveler's Locket
Charcoal Lump
Mask of a Pig
Depleted Lantern Oil
Weyer's Tonic
Empty Sanity Potion
Compound X Sample
Agrippa's Head
Lit Lantern
Pot of Acid
Carving Dagger
Glass Jar
Iridescent Orb
Tainted Laudanum

EXTRA MEDIA

Chapter Concept Teaser
Concept Spotlight
Key Art Wallpaper

DEV NOTES

First Published: July 1st, 2023
Last Updated: June 7th, 2024

While the concept was meant to focus on the original Amnesia title, throughout the perks, add-ons, and other items reference the other titles in the series.
Outburst's perk icon was based on and is a reference to Disco Elysium's "Half-Light" skill portrait, and even was called "Half-Light" in the design document until the final draft I had corrected it to something not as direct of a reference. Still, the visual idea of a "blur of violence" was the driving energy behind the perk's visual and mechanical design.
While the Sanity Potion isn't technically in Amnesia: The Dark Descent, the description of the add-on references it as a piece of cut content from the game that can still be found in the files.
The common add-ons all are meant to be part of Amnesia: The Dark Descent's earliest puzzle, which culminates in the "Pot of Acid" add-on.

CREDITS

Originally designed in collaboration with the
Dead By Daylight Community Concept Team

All references to Amnesia, "The Gatherer", "Daniel", and usage of other such characters and names belong to Frictional Games.
"The Gatherer" / Grunt model was created by Frictional Games.
"Daniel" 3D model was created and provided by Eefernal, created for the Dead by Daylight Community Concept Team and used with permission.
Image renders and textures used for "Daniel" and "The Gatherer" were created and provided by Roman Noodles and used with permission.
This concept was drafted and completed in collaboration with the Dead by Daylight Community Concept Team and originally posted as a video on the Rarithlynx YouTube channel.
Perk, power, and add-on icons as well as their descriptions, lore sections and effects were created by WheatDraws using the Amnesia franchise.
Other image assets, such as icon backgrounds, portrait backgrounds and other such assets from Dead by Daylight belong to Behaviour Interactive.

Gathered around the fire, Survivors wear injuries and dirt on themselves casually. It’s a disturbing comfort, barely escaping with your life, caught in an endless cycle of it. Some are more at ease to it, finding it not as relentless as the reality they once came from. Others are petrified in fear still. Here though, they believed it was safe.

“So what do you mean by that?”

“By what?”

“That it would just ‘abduct’ people? Like, what happened to us?”

Stories shared at the fire weren’t uncommon, but all it took was one piece of curiosity to untangle connected threads in the minds of the survivors.

“No, I don’t think so. It was just a local urban myth, y’know? Someone just passed the story around my school and there was some videos online, but it seemed like a hoax.”

“I’ve heard the same story too.”

Across the world, connected and memetic in nature, the story of a tall, thin figure in a suit wasn’t unheard of. Countless disappearances have been attributed to such local mythos, but never proven.

“I never heard anyone talk about it before too, or online. I always saw it out past my fence now and then.”

The door is opened.

“I was told it latches onto you, like a disease. And it spreads that way, from person to person.”

… And the invite is made.

“What was its name?”

A chill breeze sweeps through the campsite, and hairs stand on end. With this story shared, and caught unaware, the Entity finds a new being among its pieces, this time not brought in of its own intention, but of the Survivors with a single utterance of the name that has plagued countless communities–

“Slenderman.”

There is nothing in the doorway, it has already arrived.

old cufflink
missing persons report
scrap paper
damaged camera harness
investigator's notes
marked SD card
thumb drive evidence
recovered microphone
video documentation
prescription pills
missing evidence marker
geocache box
playground photo
tally-marked notebook
melted tape
field trip photo
lost wallet
hiking trail map
iridescent cufflink
blank page

media & links

Chapter Concept Teaser
Concept Spotlight Video
Teleport Concept Animatic
Attack Concept Animatic

DEV NOTES

First Published: September 18th, 2022
Last Updated: January 1st, 2025

The concept was written with popular Slender-related media in mind, and to not de-canonize any of them. This interpretation was meant to be the memetic property noticed in nearly every iteration of Slenderman, where he appears wherever noticed or mentioned, leaning further into it with the lore written of how the Entity never invited or brought Slenderman into the realm, he just showed up from a matter of belief and memetic properties.
The concept video features a recreation of real-life graffiti found by the Marble Hornets crew where a fan of the on-going series wrote "You're Gonna Die Tim" on the wall where they filmed the hospital segments.
I did the soft-spoken whispers in the teaser video for the Slender Concept and hid references or easter eggs in every name and date uttered during it.
The specific direction for the Chapter Concept video narration was "eerie campfire storyteller". We wanted to push the idea that the video itself was a story told at a campfire, or in hushed whispers when you knew no one was around. Something that innately felt taboo to discuss or hear.

CREDITS

Originally designed in collaboration with the
Dead By Daylight Community Concept Team

All references to Slender, Slenderman, Marble Hornets, and usage of other such characters or content belong to their respective owners and creators. This concept was created with a collective amount of popular Slenderman-related media while paying homage to each of them.
Image render of Slenderman sourced from Nicolás Montes's 3D Slenderman model and edited.
This concept was originally drafted and completed in collaboration with the Dead by Daylight Community Concept Team and originally posted as a video on the Rarithlynx YouTube channel.
Perk, power, and add-on icons as well as their descriptions, lore sections and effects were created by WheatDraws using the Slender mythos and collective media.
Other image assets, such as icon backgrounds, portrait backgrounds and other such assets from Dead by Daylight belong to Behaviour Interactive.

Originally designed in collaboration with the
Dead By Daylight Community Concept TeamFirst Published: June 25th, 2020
Last Updated: June 7th, 2024

OVERVIEW

PERKS

Grim Celebration
Cruel Machinations
Backstage Horrors

LORE

After the fire of Fazbear’s Fright settled, the local authorities ruled it as an accident to the public, but were still uncovering some evidence of foul play. The night guard who was staffed at the location that night was suspected to have perished in the fire, or likely fled the scene though the security footage was unsalvageable to uncover any further evidence due in part to the outdated technology bought by the owners.

From the ashes of the ruins, the moldy, torn suit sifted up from debris and rubble rose William Afton, somehow still clinging to life. He believed the suit to be a prison, a cage of felt, wire and springlocks keeping him alive to rot away within like a curse. As he came to realize, it was a tool. He was the parasite, using the curiously malicious nature of his situation to his advantage.

Within the earth, a pit that would lay the foundation of all that would come after, he rested. He waited and grew in power, but it wouldn’t be long before the call of the Entity would bestow Afton with the opportunity to see what he was truly capable of.

Michael could not burn him. Henry could not burn him. With each attempt at ending his life, his flesh would meld with the metal, twisting sinew into the springlocks as a cohesive, horrifying machine. With each movement his remaining muscles strained and manipulated the mechanical contraption that was his body, fully in control of the suit.

Then, the Entity arrived. It gave him an opportunity. He got out. He doesn’t know where he was, but it’s somewhere new.

Instead of burning his remaining existence into the furthest corner of hell, revenge was still wanted by the soul of a victim. As they attempted to pull and pry him from the fate of death and into their own purgatory design, the Entity intervened with its own plans as always. It saw a unique potential with William, and the work to obtain him was mostly done.

Collapsing in a heap of sludge-like blood, machine parts, and rotting fabric and flesh William rose once again. His breathing was like knives raking up and down his throat with each exhale and inhale of stale air. He could just barely taste the ash of the burning attraction around him. There was a familiarity to this place, and an unsettling discomfort. Something was wrong, something was… different.

William, still stuck and rotting within the springlock suit, shambled through the burning building, realizing his opportunity within this new world. If he was to live eternally with his sins, he would while doing what he enjoyed.

He found a fire axe within the blaze and sought out a new wave of victims with knives still in his throat with each low, sickening laugh.

POWER

ADD-ONS

Popped Balloon
Animatronic Operation Manual
Pink Slip
Discarded Minireena
Paper Pal
Safety Guidelines
Fredbear Plush Doll
"Help Wanted"
Pet's Suffering
Endoskeleton Eye
Company Policy Reminder
"COMING SOON!"
Security Bracelet
Tormented Metals
Child's Trauma
FAZBEAR ent. MEMO
Afton Family Photo
Faulty Springlock
Son's Anguish
"IT BURNS!"

RELATED CONCEPTS

MEDIA & LINKS

Concept Spotlight Video
Gameplay Video + Mori
Chapter Concept Teaser 1
Chapter Concept Teaser 2
Michael & Springtrap Render
Render Concept Sketch
Mori Animation Concept

CREDITS

"The Attraction" / Springtrap model is from Five Nights at Freddy's AR: Special Delivery developed by Illumix. The image render of it was commissioned by myself and rendered by Benj's Archive. Five Nights at Freddy's is owned by Scott Cawthon.
Michael Afton model was modified and created by Rarithlynx. The image render of it was commissioned by myself and rendered by Benj's Archive.
This concept was originally drafted and completed in collaboration with the Dead by Daylight Community Concept Team and originally posted as a video on the Rarithlynx YouTube channel.
Perk, power, and add-on icons as well as their descriptions, lore sections and effects were created by WheatDraws using the Five Nights at Freddy's franchise.
Other image assets, such as icon backgrounds, portrait backgrounds and other such assets from Dead by Daylight belong to Behaviour Interactive.

DEV NOTES

Springtrap and Michael Afton's lore and appearances are primarily based on and rooted in Five Nights at Freddy's 3, with some canon taken from games leading up to Five Nights At Freddy's: Ultimate Custom Night.
Grim Celebration's perk icon is meant to be a skull of a "crying child", and was originally called "Filicide". This icon was also for a long period of my early work as an icon artist, was my go-to icon and "badge" on all social media. It's affectionally known as "Party Skull".
This concept in every iteration and version of it was made to avoid using a power for Springtrap that amounted to "stuffing people into suits", and leaned more into the idea of a phantom or ghostly power with the Phantom Animatronics from Five Nights at Freddy's 3 and leaning into the idea of something lurking around nearby to keep someone on edge.
Five Nights at Freddy's Chapter Concept Spotlight was the very first time we ever created a video chapter concept in the spotlight format and abandoned "gameplay" videos. The reason for this is to present the same idea, but "on a nicer platter" to make it easier for people to understand and grasp what the perks and powers did without having to read everything if they didn't want to.

There was so much to relive in the moments, in that singular, almost instantaneous pressure she felt.

The sound of the theater echoing, the sight of girls dancing, the touch of a man in the projection room... Pearl had almost everything she ever would've wanted, but none of it made her happy, or truly satisfied. There was always something more, and being satisfied with what she was given was not what she wanted, even in her old age. Howard, bless his soul, did his best, but she always wanted something better.

Her arm, frail as it was, pressed its attached palm into the dirt. The cool air was against her skin, but so was the blood splattered, the gross gore clinging her to the very earth she was pressed into by a tire. Like corpse, rising up from the loam, long-forgotten, Pearl felt the peel of gore off her forehead, her vision rising from dark crimson, looking forward towards the silhouette she saw.

Her own blood boiled, the crimson gore of her death staining her body, the whispers of not her own voice, but something else assuring her, promising her another chance at her happiness.

She stood, looking at a fractured mirror, perhaps an embodiment of her regrets or missed chances... and felt nothing but a fury known only to her and God as she took a step forward from her death, stained in the blood and rage she held onto for decades.

This was her big break, finally, and she wasn't going to let some defiant bitch get in her way this time.

Straw Bale
Photo of Howard
Projectionist's License Plate
Daddy's Medicine
Chicken Egg
Illegal Film Reel
Goose Corpse
Smooth Ribbons
Top Hat
Face Cover
Howard's Letter
Bloody Pitchfork
Alligator Egg
Hanging Birdcage
Theater Program
Audition Poster
Elegant Hairbrush
Theda's Tooth
Rotting Pig Roast
Iridescent Film Frame

EXTRA MEDIA

ADDITIONAL RENDERS BY TICO

CREDITS

First Published: October 10th, 2023
Last Updated: November 11th, 2024

All references to Pearl, Maxine, and usage of other such characters and names belong to their respective owners.
Pearl and Maxine models used in the portrait render were created by Tico.
Image renders of Pearl and Maxine were created by Tico and used with permission.
Perk, power, and add-on icons as well as their descriptions, lore sections and effects were created by WheatDraws using the X / Pearl franchise.
Other image assets, such as icon backgrounds, portrait backgrounds and other such assets from Dead by Daylight belong to Behaviour Interactive.

DEV NOTES

Early drafts of The Star's power were going to deal with semi-permanent wounds that could be applied while a Survivor is in the Dying State, but applying and making it useful felt clunky and slow, so the design was redone to fit a more natural "top down" design with the idea and visual of a performance occurring and using lullaby as a game mechanic outside of a warning.

Outside of Derry, far beyond the Realm of the Entity exists more than just horrors in the dark. The horrors that live in the nothing of everything are what any reasonable mind would be afraid of.

A dark deal was made between the Entity and this creature only known as Pennywise to many of its victims. While Pennywise had to marinate its prey, causing it to suffocate with its own fear, in the realm of the Entity nearly every human had already suffered extraordinary fear, perfect for a quick bite. However, it was missing a personal touch.

Pennywise would help satiate the Entity, so long as it had access to the near-infinite source of delicious fear. It didn’t need to expose itself to its natural vulnerabilities either, much like a hand reaching into a pond. Only the fingers would appear, but to the small fish in the water, the finger was a monstrous creature in the guise of a dancing clown.

It didn’t take long for them to identify that a balloon was enough to cause them to tremble in terror. While terrorized, panicked, and fearful, they tasted even better.

And so, Pennywise began to salivate, arriving from a long slumber to get Its fill.

feareaterlore

turtle figurine
fortune cookie
balloon string
stanley's letter
richie's token
yellow raincoat
thrown rock
medication inhaler
admirer's poem
recurring knife
unloaded bolt gun
smoldering easter egg
rusted sign
fence carving
Sewer System Map
Lost Shoe
S.S. Georgie
Yearbook Page
Iridescent Eldritch Heart
Ritual Vessel

extra media

Concept Spotlight Video

DEV NOTES

First Published: November 30th, 2021
Last Updated: May 13th, 2025

Originally the chapter concept video had no voice lines or plans to find a soundalike actor to do the lines, but at the recommendation of a collaborator for the concept, we got some audio recordings from the impressionist and were genuinely surprised and a little unsettled at how he had directly referenced the team and improvised some lines.
Dark Dealings's perk name was inspired from Magic: the Gathering's Dark Deal.
While the concept is referencing the 2017 and 2019 films directly, there are quotes and smaller references to the original novel, miniseries, and other Pennywise canon throughout.

CREDITS

Originally designed in collaboration with the
Dead By Daylight Community Concept Team

All references to Pennywise, IT, and usage of other such characters and names belong to their respective owners.
Pennywise model used in the portrait render was created by StraXartS, though modified.
Image render of Pennywise / The Feareater created by Roman Noodles for use by the Dead by Daylight Community Concept Team and edited.
This concept was originally drafted and completed in collaboration with the Dead by Daylight Community Concept Team and originally posted as a video on the Rarithlynx YouTube channel.
Perk, power, and add-on icons as well as their descriptions, lore sections and effects were created by WheatDraws using the IT franchise.
Other image assets, such as icon backgrounds, portrait backgrounds and other such assets from Dead by Daylight belong to Behaviour Interactive.

A blur of neon light. Paints that don't mix of vibrant, eye-assaulting color. This might just be a bad trip, you're hoping it's just a bad trip. But you know it, don't you? Nothing would be as bad as this.

Miami isn't safe. There's some maniac on the loose, killing people and leaving buildings nothing more than vacant boxes of concrete, drugs, and blood.

The world is teetering on war. At least, your world is. If only they were aware of it all, or realized how long ago everything went to shit and was fucked by the powers that be. This blind faith got no one anywhere. It didn't even make people hate each other more, it just made them more honest about it all.

Have you looked in the mirror lately? Are those even your own eyes? Your own hands? It's definitely not your blood on them.

It's like a static in your head, some feedback, but the heart beats to a different tune than your own will.

It doesn't matter if you like it. You don't have a choice.

Hurting people is all you're good for now.

"Rami"
Complimentary Smokes
"Phil"
Evidence Marker #2
"Tony"
"Graham"
Miami Headlines
"Don Juan"
"Zack"
New Product
"Richter"
"Jones"
Journalist's Notepad
"Rasmus"
Midnight Animal on VHS
"Biker"
"Richard"
The First Mask
The Polaroid
"You"

Characters featured in this Tome

Tome Cosmetic - "First Blood"

The Moment It Happens

“Guys, I think we better get out of here.”

The voice of the soldier echoed down the hall, even through the blaring alarm that coated the walls red. The sound of the call button on the elevator clicked. Clicked. Clicked. Clicked.

Before the doors even opened more than a couple inches, the numbing pain of being slammed into a wall rippled through every muscle and bone in his body, trembling as it met the warmth of blood and force pushing against the front of himself, like his body was pressed finely from two different impacts, one expanding and the other unmoving. Maybe it was the hit of his head, blonde hair quickly staining with blood as it dripped down the back of his head and neck, but he could’ve sworn he still heard the alarm.

He coughed, but could not feel his lungs, the pain of the pressure still lingered in his body as he was pulled up, his mouth opening to howl instinctively, knowing his arm felt like it was being ripped out of his socket even though everything felt absurd and otherworldly. His head hung low, seeing the floor moving past him, feet barely able to walk himself as he was pulled forward by his fellow soldier.

“You’re okay, you’re gonna be okay…”

The only sounds he could make out was the soldier, that’s how he knew who was carrying him. The wounded man couldn’t even lift his head enough to see the walls of the underground they had entered in, the failing power supply causing the tunnel to go dark. Distant, winding hallways echoing as he felt the blood and drool escape his lower lip, struggling to keep an eye close as blood followed the curve of his eyelid. Through those hallways, distant screams in Russian, shouting and orders, men defying orders, men acting on impulse and the need to survive.

Jacket felt lifeless in his own body, feeling as his very soul was bleeding out onto his uniform, over his friend, and leaving a trail through enemy territory. The wail of the alarm sounded like the darkness of some beast within the walls, hallways looked less right, the corridors appearing almost malformed. Earthy, even. He could see it on walls, in the red of his vision as he barely lifted his head.

It was the end, it should be. The moment where it happens, some say it’s slow, almost torturous, like you’re given the contrast of your demise against the happiness of life before it. Others say its instant, even painless, an alien mercy of not knowing when it happens or when it arrives. He had never thought of it either way, ignoring it was the only way to stay sane in this war, to keep those he cared about safe when and if he could, but maybe this was the former, maybe he got to know in a dark hilarity that his and his friend’s attempt of an escape ended in their death, his own giving him time to reflect on that.

“... stay with me…”

His voice, like summoning light, the malformed tunnel opening its maw, reverting its shape. He summoned light at the end as the alarm, that beast grew distant, its fangs and claws nipping at the back of his neck, like something reached out to pull at him. The soldier pulled him out of it.

Into the light, he was laid out on the ground, facing upward to the Hawaiian sky, wincing and trembling as he felt the emotion and pain of no longer living in death, but living outside of it. It hurt, and as far as he was concerned, the man who screamed over comms to call for evacuation was his goddamn guardian angel.

“Hang in there, buddy. They’ll be here real soon.”

The soldier knelt down just as Jacket’s bloody hand fumbled with his vest, reaching into the velcro pouch. If this was where he would die, to give the last of his strength, it would be in thanks. As if a physical feat beyond man, encouraged only by his near-death encounter, Jacket pulled open the pouch, and held out the polaroid in a weak hand to his friend.

“No need to thank me, kid.”

From the bottom of Jacket’s vision, the shape of that tunnel took form again, that maw just so barely in sight, something in the dark haunting him. He turned his head up, facing it. Something nipped at him, whispering at him. He didn’t cheat death. He was reliving it. The same death relieved countless times in nightmares, relived in countless days and nights thinking about San Francisco. In each dream, that beast grew closer. For the last time, Jacket ended that dream, waking in a hospital bed, wrapped in bandages, a stinging white noise in his mind as he rose from a coma.

“It’s on the house.”

Overdue

Jacket sat on the edge of his bed, eyes focused on his grip as he moved his hand around, fingers curled around a green ball. The floor of concrete is nothing but a blur, the shoes granted to him as part of his prisoner uniform barely anything more than a dark brown, just past the orange knees.

His thumb pressed in, the ball giving in slightly to the pressure as he meditated as the guards would say, his eyes never leaving the toy. This cell, this prison, felt like a void to him. Everything beyond him was nothing, he had what he cared for ripped from him and everyone who saw him witnessed him for what he was without those people in his life. Without his own sanity. Without his own autonomy.

Jacket gave a firm squeeze with his hand, the thumb not able to dig as deep as he could before just by itself into the toy as he clenched it tightly. Jacket could not hear the sounds of shouts outside his cell, did not care to understand the screams of guards and prisoners alike. No one came to him, and he looked for no answers. He was in his own little world, haunted by a nightmare that no longer plagued him, the memory of his girlfriend and best friend nothing more than faces he only remembers in a violent blur.

The cell was not for Jacket, it was for the man he was perceived to be. It wasn’t the advice of his defense, but he kept his head low because he didn’t care to see it. He didn’t care to look past what he wanted for himself, and now he had nothing to look up and forward to.
Alarms of the prison rang out, distant sirens blared. The beast from the tunnels came to mind, that one nightmare. Jacket didn’t look up, he kept thinking as he released tension on the ball, rotating it in his palm.

He thought of his phone calls, playfully criticizing San Francisco culture and promoting his own local scene to his friend. He thought of the Miami sun on his skin again, looking out over the water and feeling like maybe he could hold a new life here, move past the things he had seen and done in Hawaii.

The sound of the beast screamed, but Jacket still didn’t look up. He pushed his thumb in again, feeling a similar pressure at the nape of his neck. With a deep exhale, Jacket held his thumb, trembling as his nail dug into the material. Maybe he was just dreaming this whole time. Maybe everything did end there… just a prolonged dream.

In these moments of acceptance and peace for Jacket, he remembered the texture of his friend’s uniform on his shoulder. He remembered the touch of his girlfriend’s hand. The feeling of a cigarette. The polaroid. The beast howled at his door, his eyes still fixated on the ball, feeling the warmth of the Miami sun on him one last time as he was overtaken by the nightmare, the string at the back of his neck pulled.

He could not remember the last time he dreamt, and in this nightmare and all dreams before, he dreamed of violence. A violence that was once again leveraged by powers above him, unfeeling, unempathetic, and self-serving.

So begins the nightmare again. Back in Hawaii. Back in Miami. Back into hell.

extra media

Chase and Menu Themes

DEV NOTES

First Published: May 19th, 2021
Last Updated: November 10th, 2024

Original drafts of this concept, Jacket's power was more focused on being "modular" via add-ons and drastically improving the power but at the risk of cancelling out many other add-ons that would affect that part of it. This was ultimately revised for the sake of a more solid base power.
Originally "You" was never meant to be an add-on, and instead The Polaroid was going to be the "Entity gift"/iridescent add-on, but the idea of having an add-on which was a direct tie and reference to the lore and how the Entity would take control was far too tempting to try. In addition, there's a not-so-hidden 50 BLESSINGS logo in the mask's design, as well as a "sealed mouth" to show the forced silence of Jacket, removing the freedom of choice to remain silent.

CREDITS

All references to Hotline Miami, "Jacket", "The Animal", and usage of other such characters and names belong to Dennaton Games.
Dead by Daylight - "Hotline Miami" Chapter Chase and Menu Theme (Fan Made Chapter) was created by SavageD and used with permission. The thumbnail for the video (used in Bonus Content) features artwork from Estacadoth, also used with permission.
Image render used for "The Animal" portrait is from the Hotline Miami: Jacket Resin Figure.
Perk, power, and add-on icons as well as their descriptions, lore sections and effects were created by WheatDraws using the Hotline Miami franchise.
Other image assets, such as icon backgrounds, portrait backgrounds and other such assets from Dead by Daylight belong to Behaviour Interactive.

Deeper than anything, Rapture felt like it had progressed so far beyond what most mortal men could ever achieve, but was so far removed from humanity it was barely recognizable. One slip-up, and Jack was here, waiting a resurrection with Rapture's system...

But it didn't come.

He was drifting, the middle of the sea, no walls around him. Cold, unmoving water covered every surface of his body.

Lost...

He tried to inhale, and it was just water, the last of air erupting out of him. It would've been an eternity, if not for the water to immediately being vomit, a mix of salt water and the little food he's had since he arrived in Rapture.

Shivering, cold, the man curled on the floor, dried leaves and dirt clinging to his sweater and face as he adjusted to the sudden change, staring up at a star-less night sky, trees of a dreadful dark color reaching up.

If Rapture was supposed to be a utopia, this might as well be hell with how far removed it was from the underwater paradise of invention and creation.

Jack wasn't far off in his assumption, as he'd soon learn.

Characters featured in this Tome

Tome Cosmetic - "Son of Rapture"

The Blood that Breaks the Chain

Jack hadn’t been here for too long, just enough to get his bearings. It was… strange. It felt like he spent months if not years beneath the water, and now it was nowhere in sight. He had made actual allies, people he had seen with his own eyes without flesh stretched to cover imperfections or burns to cover the hideous personality of the Splicers.

The comfort of something more human, something more familiar, did not do away with the fear of what he had to face. This was not Rapture, and the resources were scarce. Jack found himself with a new question, a new morality and decision to make. The words of Andrew Ryan stuck in his mind, the philosophy of the rights of a man or the rights of the people stuck with him, battling him as he struggled to survive in these trials at the hands of vicious murderers.

Even while one was impaled, bleeding out upon a grotesque meat hook, he could see his escape in his grasp. He was so close to finally repairing this belching, almost sickly machine.

Jack had considered every possibility he could, it was overwhelming. The free will of a man was new to him, almost hauntingly so. So many decisions made for him he did not realize, and now he could decide even when to pace his breathing. A leash made of words, broken. A chain made of blood, shattered. He could feel the sweat on his brow drip down as time drew near.

By saving someone, just one, he would never be leaving someone behind. With his action to complete the generator, he would be able to allow not only his escape, but all others who were more cunning, perhaps even more useful. The coin however, had two sides. He could save someone and have them indebted to him, their labor sparing himself from the very sweat on his own brow. To finish the repair, he could boast his own efficiency, decisiveness and right to lead and take charge. He was his own man after all, he had the right to make those decisions, to reason them as he saw fit. He even knew that not doing anything at all could make himself more hidden, to be obscure, to prevent himself from being another middle-man to everyone else.

Jack took a deep breath, and focused himself. In his body flowed the blood of a free man, and on his wrist, the chain was broken by that free man in the form of a vein. Jack felt his confidence bolstering, his shoulders squaring.

Knowing he had that power, not a Plasmid, but to shape his own path, he made his move.

EXTRA MEDIA

DEV NOTES

First Published: August 2nd, 2023
Last Updated: November 11th, 2024

Successor was originally a perk design from the original version of an old PREY (2017) chapter concept I had where you could copy or replicate a teammate's perk called "Neuro-Remap".
Jack Wynand's perks were meant to be reflective of his character journey and that freedom of choice and how something selfish / selfless can build up to being a stronger person in his own way with the "Ultimatum" perks.

CREDITS

All references to BioShock, "The Protector", "Jack Wynand", and usage of other such characters and names belong to 2K and Irrational Games.
"The Protector" portrait render is an edited and modified image of the BioShock game cover art.
"Jack Wynand" portrait render is an edited and modified image of a Jack model port for Garry's Mod on Steam Workshop by RatedR4Ryan.
Perk, power, and add-on icons as well as their descriptions, lore sections and effects were created by WheatDraws using the BioShock franchise.
Other image assets, such as icon backgrounds, portrait backgrounds and other such assets from Dead by Daylight belong to Behaviour Interactive.

Maintenance. It was the only thing keeping Rapture from fully imploding, keeping it from succumbing to the pressures of the ocean. Were it not for maintenance, it would have been a finely crushed piece of tin and bronze.

Small punctures in the buildings and glass, multiple districts lost to flooding within mere moments.

The whirring of a drill, the sound of what was screaming masking the sound of pathetic screeches and a lifeless whimper of a Splicer, the body giving up its grip on a hold, pathetically spinning with the drill as it came to a stop, the smear of blood on the still finely polished flooring spiraling before the drill was pulled out from the ribbons that were the creature's intestines moments before.

A low sound, deep, and distant almost, like a whale in the abyss emanated from this cage of a suit. How human could something like this be, something so... truly cruel.

Human enough to recognize empathy, a desire to protect. Such as this small child, a child this creature had lost long ago, relieved to be able to have her close by, but she spoke much differently. She had not grown, but her demeanor was different.

Softly, she beckoned it into a gap in the wall that was not there, a gap that did not lead into the vast ocean, but into an abyss of blackness.

It followed, trusting her whole-heartedly, longing for the walks throughout Rapture, musing over her drawings that scrawled across the wall. A tragedy that it was not truly her, and even more a tragedy that no one with a stable conscious would witness it.

By the time it arrived, lured in by a promise that was lost to it long ago, it was enraged, bellowing out, its song of pain rippling through the vast darkness.

When The Entity needed use of it, a new door would open, the same small child leading it by the oversized finger, and vanishing into the dark, leaving nothing more than a furious protector without a child and the victims now trapped with it.

A cruel method of utilizing such a creature, but what value does cruelty have to a creature that no longer had anything to call it human? It was a tool, one the Entity gladly utilized at its discretion, beckoning it onward when it pleased with the false illusion of that little girl, reliving tragedy of loss over and over again, and unleashing that fury onto the innocent that resided within this realm.

Porthole Lens
Drill Fuel
Oxygen Reserve Tank
Vial of Adam
broken hypos
utility plasmid: scout
broken splicer arm
circus of values machine
steinman advertisement
heavy wrench
damaged security bot
splicer hook
offense plasmid: electro bolt
ruined golf club
bust of andrew ryan
jack's passport
control plasmid: hypnotize
audio diary
little sister's hairbow
iridescent sea slug

EXTRA MEDIA

DEV NOTES

First Published: August 2nd, 2023
Last Updated: November 10th, 2024

This concept was drafted alongside a live Twitch audience. Thank you!
Successor was originally a perk design from a scrapped PREY (2017) chapter concept where you could copy or replicate a teammate's perk called "Neuro-Remap".

CREDITS

Originally designed in collaboration
with a Live Twitch Chat

All references to BioShock, "The Protector", "Jack Wynand", and usage of other such characters and names belong to 2K and Irrational Games.
"The Protector" portrait render is an edited and modified image of the BioShock game cover art.
"Jack Wynand" portrait render is an edited and modified image of a Jack model port for Garry's Mod on Steam Workshop by RatedR4Ryan.
Perk, power, and add-on icons as well as their descriptions, lore sections and effects were created by WheatDraws using the BioShock franchise.
Other image assets, such as icon backgrounds, portrait backgrounds and other such assets from Dead by Daylight belong to Behaviour Interactive.