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! You can also find my other work and contact info on my personal website here.To navigate concepts, click on any of the banners featuring a character or use the navigation bar above to browse all concepts within a category.
ANNOUNCEMENTS
Multiple older concepts have been moved to Legacy status. This is sort of a 'retired' badge, where the concept will no longer be recieving updates in the future for one reason or another.
SITE CHANGELOG
This public site changelog is in text format only.
November 26th, 2024
Several concepts temporarily excluded from the site amid updates and reworks.
November 14th, 2024
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.
LICENSE CONCEPTS
Concepts are listed by newest to oldest of original publication date, sorted by year.
ORIGINAL CONCEPTS
Concepts of my own creation and writing, featuring original characters and artwork of them.
Original Chapter Concepts are listed by newest to oldest of publication, from top to bottom, left to right.Concepts listed will always have their core text elements added (Overview, Perks, and Power if applicable), but some pages
may be missing finished or finalized icon artwork as many of the concepts have outdated art which takes longer to update and create.
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.
THE ANTIQUITY TRILOGY
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 can handle.
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.
Band together, defy the powers that be. The world can be better, but those that would oppose you will push back harder, more ruthlessly, and see your hope as something to exploit.Coming 2025.
THE APOCALYPSE TRILOGY
Venture into the world of fame, power, and passion. How the addiction to that power can corrupt, and when that power is cut off from the body, it can grow into a terror of its own kind.Coming 2025.
As the world crumbles, as the people riot, the bottom line is what matters. How much longer until enough is enough? No one is untouchable, and the world will be eclipsed by pain and fear.Coming 2025.
COLLABORATION CONCEPTS
These concepts were created alongside other creators and/or groups in the design or
development process and have been posted here with permission.
Concepts are listed by collaborator A-Z.
CONCEPT ARCHIVE COLLECTIONS
Additional lore entries written to expand a character's concept and role both within and outside of the Entity's Realm, focused into collections with a specific theme
and occasionally guest writers that are credited where appropriate.Want to contribute as a writer? Consider applying here to be commissioned for lore / archive entries. Additional info can be found inside the application form.
This is a paid commission, so applicants will be taken seriously and chosen at my own discretion. Applications will be held onto and kept in mind when possible.
WANT TO MAKE YOUR OWN CONCEPT?
This section is dedicated to resources and guides on how to format and create your own Chapter Concepts, or improve upon them.
The resources below are not meant to show any "correct" way of making a concept, but to improve your creation and presentation!
WRITTEN GUIDE
Below is an early version of a PDF document written by me and my own process of designing and writing DBD Concepts. While it's not a set of definite rules, if you're interested in how I approach it or want to use my methods to improve your own, you can get it here!
JOIN THE COMMUNITY!
Join the concept community on Discord where we share our ideas, our work in progress projects, and get feedback from others.
FILE RESOURCES
Here you can get access to all assets I use myself and templates to create my Dead by Daylight concepts, including text boxes, perks, and image assets.
Note: No guide has been made yet how to use these all effectively.
THIS CONCEPT WAS ORIGINALLY PUBLISHED IN 2021.
THE PRESENTATION BELOW IS THE MOST RECENT ITERATION OF IT AND HAS BEEN ARCHIVED AS A LEGACY CONCEPT.
IT WILL NOT RECIEVE ANY MORE UPDATES AS IT IS HERE FOR PRESERVATION ONLY.
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 AS A LEGACY CONCEPT.
IT WILL NOT RECIEVE ANY MORE UPDATES AS IT IS HERE FOR PRESERVATION ONLY.
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.
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 AS A LEGACY CONCEPT.
IT WILL NOT RECIEVE ANY MORE UPDATES AS IT IS HERE FOR PRESERVATION ONLY.
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.
First Published: October 23rd, 2024
Last Updated: November 11th, 2024
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.
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.
dev notes
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.
First Published: September 9th, 2024
Last Updated: October 15th, 2024
LORE
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.
ARCHIVE ENTRIES
Deep Below and Within
Written by WheatDraws
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.
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.
DEV NOTES
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.
First Published: September 9th, 2024
Last Updated: September 9th, 2024
LORE
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.
ARCHIVE ENTRIES
None ( yet . . . )Interested in writing archive entries for commission?
See here to learn more.
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.
DEV NOTES
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.
First Published: September 9th, 2024
Last updated: September 9th, 2024
LORE
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.
ARCHIVE ENTRIES
None ( yet . . . )Interested in writing archive entries for commission?
See here to learn more.
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.
dev notes
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.
An Original Dead by Daylight Chapter Concept
Designed by WheatDrawsFirst Published: October 28th, 2024
Last Updated: November 14th, 2024
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.
ARCHIVE ENTRIES
The Fires Eternal
Written by WheatDraws
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.
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.
DEV NOTES
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.
An Original Dead by Daylight Chapter Concept
Designed by WheatDrawsFirst Published: October 28th, 2024
Last Updated: November 14th, 2024
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.
ARCHIVE ENTRIES
Eyes in the Dark
Written by WheatDraws
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.
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.
dev notes
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.
An Original Dead by Daylight Chapter Concept
Designed by WheatDrawsFirst Published: September 13th, 2024
Last Updated: October 9th, 2024
LORE
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”.
ARCHIVE ENTRIES
Unfamiliar Friend
Written by WheatDraws
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.
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.
dev notes
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.
An Original Dead by Daylight Chapter Concept
Designed by WheatDrawsFirst Published: September 13th, 2024
Last Updated: September 13th, 2024
LORE
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.
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.
DEV NOTES
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.
First Published: September 3rd, 2024
Last updated: September 3rd, 2024
LORE
"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.
ARCHIVE ENTRIES
None ( yet . . . )Interested in writing archive entries for commission?
See here to learn more.
RELATED CONCEPTS
LINKS & MEDIA
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.
DEV NOTES
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.
Designed in collaboration with Pixel BushFirst Published: September 3rd, 2024
Last updated: September 3rd, 2024
LORE
Written by Pixel Bush
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.”
archive entries
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CREDITS
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.
DEV NOTES
Designed in collaboration with Pixel BushFirst Published: September 3rd, 2024
Last updated: September 5th, 2024
LORE
Written by Pixel Bush
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.
archive entries
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CREDITS
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.
DEV NOTES
Designed in collaboration with Pixel BushFirst Published: September 3rd, 2024
Last updated: October 9th, 2024
lore
Written by Pixel Bush
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.
archive entries
Martha Jones: A Cold Night in London
Written by Pixel Bush
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.
credits
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.
dev notes
First Published: August 15th, 2024
Last Updated: August 15th, 2024
LORE
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.
archive entries
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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.
DEV NOTES
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.
First Published: August 15th, 2024
Last Updated: August 15th, 2024
LORE
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."
archive entries
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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.
DEV NOTES
First Published: November 26th, 2020
Last updated: November 8th, 2024
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.
ARCHIVE ENTRIES
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RELATED CONCEPTS
MEDIA & LINKS
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.
DEV NOTES
Originally designed in collaboration with the
Dead By Daylight Community Concept TeamFirst Published: October 31st, 2024
Last Updated: October 31st, 2024
LORE
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.
archive entries
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See here to learn more.
CREDITS
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.
DEV NOTES
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".
Originally designed in collaboration with the
Dead By Daylight Community Concept TeamFirst Published: October 31st, 2024
Last Updated: October 31st, 2024
LORE
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.
ARCHIVE ENTRIES
None ( yet . . . )Interested in writing archive entries for commission?
See here to learn more.
CREDITS
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.
DEV NOTES
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".
An Original Dead by Daylight Chapter Concept
Designed by WheatDrawsFirst Published: June 7th, 2024
Last Updated: November 14th, 2024
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.
Head of House
Written by WheatDraws
“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.
archive entries
A Cage Without Walls
Written by WheatDraws
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.
CREDITS
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.
DEV NOTES
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.
An Original Dead by Daylight Chapter Concept
Designed by WheatDrawsFirst Published: June 7th, 2024
Last Updated: November 14th, 2024
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.
archive entries
Anonymous Associate
Written by WheatDraws
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.
CREDITS
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.
DEV NOTES
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.
First Published: July 30th, 2021
Last updated: October 15th, 2024
LORE
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.
ARCHIVE ENTRIES
A Future Without
Written by WheatDraws
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.
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.
DEV NOTES
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".
First Published: July 30th, 2021
Last Updated: June 7th, 2024
LORE
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.
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.
DEV NOTES
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.
First Published: October 10th, 2023
Last Updated: June 7th, 2024
LORE
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.
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.
DEV NOTES
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.
LORE
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.
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.
DEV NOTES
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).
First Published: July 27th, 2022
Last Updated: June 7th, 2024
THE PRESENTATION BELOW IS THE MOST RECENT ITERATION OF THIS CONCEPT AND HAS BEEN ARCHIVED AS A LEGACY CONCEPT.
IT WILL NOT RECIEVE ANY MORE UPDATES AS IT IS HERE FOR PRESERVATION ONLY.
LORE
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.
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
First Published: November 25th, 2023
Last Updated: June 7th, 2024
LORE
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.
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.
DEV NOTES
• 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.
First Published: November 25th, 2023
Last Updated: June 7th, 2024
LORE
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.
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.
DEV NOTES
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.
First Published: November 25th, 2023
Last Updated: June 7th, 2024
LORE
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.
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.
DEV NOTES
• 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.
Originally designed in collaboration with the
Dead By Daylight Community Concept TeamFirst Published: October 3rd, 2021
Last Updated: June 7th, 2024
THE PRESENTATION BELOW IS THE MOST RECENT ITERATION OF THIS CONCEPT AND HAS BEEN ARCHIVED AS A LEGACY CONCEPT.
IT WILL NOT RECIEVE ANY MORE UPDATES AS IT IS HERE FOR PRESERVATION ONLY.
LORE
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.
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.
Originally designed in collaboration with the
Dead By Daylight Community Concept TeamFirst Published: July 22th, 2021
Last Updated: June 7th, 2024
LORE
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.
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.
DEV NOTES
Originally designed in collaboration with the
Dead By Daylight Community Concept TeamFirst Published: February 10th, 2024
Last Updated: June 7th, 2024
LORE
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.
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.
DEV NOTES
Samantha Giddings's perkset was inspired and created with the idea of a chain reaction or the simple cause and effect.
Originally designed in collaboration with the
Dead By Daylight Community Concept TeamFirst Published: February 10th, 2024
Last Updated: June 7th, 2024
LORE
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.
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.
DEV NOTES
Gordon Freeman's perkset was designed with the idea of intervention being front and center.
Originally designed in collaboration with the
Dead By Daylight Community Concept TeamFirst Published: June 26th, 2021
Last Updated: June 7th, 2024
THE PRESENTATION BELOW IS THE MOST RECENT ITERATION OF THIS CONCEPT AND HAS BEEN ARCHIVED AS A LEGACY CONCEPT.
IT WILL NOT RECIEVE ANY MORE UPDATES AS IT IS HERE FOR PRESERVATION ONLY.
LORE
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.
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.
First Published: March 9th, 2021
Last Updated: June 7th, 2024
LORE
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.
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.
DEV NOTES
First Published: March 9th, 2021
Last Updated: June 7th, 2024
LORE
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".
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.
DEV NOTES
The original version of DOOMS Attunement (then called DOOMS Proficiency) was more of a trap / sensor playstyle with Beach Jumping to BTs wherever on a cool-down. This was revised in the overhaul to distance the design from the now released Skull Merchant and leaned more into playing with the "level up" mechanics found across different Killers and to tie into the lore and function of DOOMS.
First Published: November 25th, 2023
Last Updated: June 7th, 2024
LORE
“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.
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.
DEV NOTES
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.
First Published: February 14th, 2021
Last Updated: June 7th, 2024
LORE
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
RELATED CONCEPTS
media & links
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.
DEV NOTES
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.
First Published: July 30th, 2021
Last Updated: November 10th, 2024
ARCHIVE ENTRIES
01000101 01011000 01000101
Written by WheatDraws
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.
CREDITS
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 Sova.
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.
DEV NOTES
First Published: July 22th, 2021
Last Updated: June 7th, 2024
LORE
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.
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.
DEV NOTES
First Published: July 27th, 2022
Last Updated: June 7th, 2024
THE PRESENTATION BELOW IS THE MOST RECENT ITERATION OF THIS CONCEPT AND HAS BEEN ARCHIVED AS A LEGACY CONCEPT.
IT WILL NOT RECIEVE ANY MORE UPDATES AS IT IS HERE FOR PRESERVATION ONLY.
LORE
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.
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
First Published: July 31st, 2023
Last Updated: June 7th, 2024
LORE
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."
RELATED CONCEPTS
media & links
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.
DEV NOTES
First Published: May 31st, 2023
Last Updated: June 7th, 2024
CREDITS
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.
"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.
DEV NOTES
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.
First Published: May 31st, 2023
Last Updated: June 7th, 2024
CREDITS
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.
"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.
DEV NOTES
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.
First Published: February 19th, 2024
Last Updated: June 7th, 2024
LORE
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.
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.
DEV NOTES
First Published: August 20th, 2020
Last Updated: June 7th, 2024
LORE
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."
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.
DEV NOTES
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.
First Published: September 26th, 2020
Last Updated: June 7th, 2024
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.
DEV NOTES
Originally designed in collaboration with the
Dead By Daylight Community Concept TeamFirst Published: July 1st, 2023
Last Updated: June 7th, 2024
LORE
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.
CREDITS
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
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.
Originally designed in collaboration with the
Dead By Daylight Community Concept TeamFirst Published: July 1st, 2023
Last Updated: June 7th, 2024
LORE
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.
CREDITS
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
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.
Originally designed in collaboration with the
Dead By Daylight Community Concept TeamFirst Published: September 18th, 2022
Last Updated: June 7th, 2024
LORE
“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.
CREDITS
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.
DEV NOTES
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.
Originally designed in collaboration with the
Dead By Daylight Community Concept TeamFirst Published: June 25th, 2020
Last Updated: June 7th, 2024
THE PRESENTATION BELOW IS THE MOST RECENT ITERATION OF THIS CONCEPT AND HAS BEEN ARCHIVED AS A LEGACY CONCEPT.
IT WILL NOT RECIEVE ANY MORE UPDATES AS IT IS HERE FOR PRESERVATION ONLY.
LORE
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.
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.
First Published: October 10th, 2023
Last Updated: November 11th, 2024
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.
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 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.
Originally designed in collaboration with the
Dead By Daylight Community Concept TeamFirst Published: November 30th, 2021
Last Updated: November 11th, 2024
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.
CREDITS
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.
DEV NOTES
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.
First Published: May 19th, 2021
Last Updated: November 10th, 2024
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.
The Moment It Happens
Written by WheatDraws
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.”
ARCHIVE LORE
Overdue
Written by WheatDraws
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.
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.
DEV NOTES
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.
First Published: August 2nd, 2023
Last Updated: November 11th, 2024
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.
ARCHIVE ENTRIES
The Blood that Breaks the Chain
Written by WheatDraws
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.
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.
DEV NOTES
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".
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.
Designed with a live Twitch audienceFirst Published: August 2nd, 2023
Last Updated: November 10th, 2024
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.
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.
DEV NOTES
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".