Meet Vincent, The Dogcatcher - ferocious killer of prewar London (New Killer Idea/Concept)
Ladies and gentleman, people of The Fog,
Before you read (I hope you will do so) an actual concept, I would like you to read this introduction. I know, reading them might be a pain, but I promise it will be worth your time.
I love Dead by Daylight. This love comes in all shapes and sizes. More often than not, it takes the form of a love-hate relationship. Dead by Daylight has its strengths, as well as its flaws. Even when we’re angry while getting facecamped, tunneled or simply losing the game, we can’t help it but still play it. I asked myself – why?
Is it because of its gameplay? What about the simple fact that we can play it with our friends? Who doesn’t like playing games with friends? I don’t know such a person.
My point is, there are too many answers. In my opinion, the right question isn’t why people >play< this game, but why did they >start< playing this game in the first place.
I believe it’s all about its atmosphere, its unpredictability, its pace. Thrill of the hunt, thrill of survival, and most importantly - good stories.
We all love good stories. There is nothing better than a good story taking place in equally good setting. What makes good stories good is presence of complex characters, their individual nature, their traits, beliefs, actions. Even tho we know they’re not real, they become real in our heads. Once they become real, they bestow us with the greatest gift of all – an ability to feel genuine, wild, unchained emotions.
That’s the main reason I decided to create this complex, ferocious killer who is nor good nor bad, whose motives to kill are as human as it gets, quite simple and clear, yet terrifying.
People of The Fog, I present you Vincent, the unstoppable hunter of London.
Artwork & sketch created by Bartosz Chmielewski.
© All Rights Reserved.
It’s quite a long read, but don’t get discouraged – the joy of reading it is just as big as the wall of text in front of your eyes. It explains why and how Vincent became the servant of The Entity itself.
It is no mystery that the human race has been ruled by the primary instincts. It is impossible to hide that after all, we are only animals. Over the centuries, we have tried to cover up our true nature under the guise of morality, ethics and norms. Religion has proved to be an invaluable tool in suppressing the inner darkness hidden in the depths of so-called "humanity." People performed good deeds not because they wanted to change the world for the better, they expected a reward in a second, better life, they feared the punishment awaiting for those who disobeyed God’s commandments.
Everything changed at the beginning of the 20th century AD. Ironically, the theater was flourishing at that time, but people tended to gradually forget about the metaphorical masks, conventions and other fetters imprisoning their primary instincts. The air was filled with a scent of the oncoming war; the war that would shuffle history’s cards forever.
Vincent Preston came into the world in the embrace of an icy January night in 1902 in London. The town was booming at that time, but social inequalities, ubiquitous poverty, hunger and diseases were obscuring it. The boy was unlucky, because he was born into a large family, which could barely make ends meet. Nevertheless, he was cheerful, friendly and full of life.
In the neighborhood, he was given a joking nickname, "Holmes," because he was very smart, liked riddles and chased after stray animals, pretending that they were fugitives from the law. When he caught them, he used to send the captured “criminals” away to the "prison," a local animal pound run by his grandfather, Roger Preston. Roger was a local dogcatcher; it was a difficult and highly thankless job, but at the same time very necessary.
The biggest challenge was enduring the insults and hostility from the community, who perceived his profession as one reserved for only the most evil, heartless and repulsive citizens. Contrary to popular belief about dogcatchers, Vincent's grandfather was not a villain. It was true that he wasn’t especially pious. He was given to bouts of belligerence after consuming too much alcohol, but he did everything he could to provide for his son’s family and neighbors' children as well, who happened to face an equally meager existence.
It was Roger who played the role of moral compass for his grandson, teaching the boy how to be a good man and how not to fall prey to a brutal reality. His teachings did not go to waste, because Vincent looked up to his grandfather, his undisputed authority.
The date of November 18, 1910, was indelibly etched into Vincent's memory. It was the day his grandfather got into another fight, one he did not survive. Also on this date, known to many as "Black Friday," a march of suffragettes led by Emmeline Pankhurst took place.
The women were in a peaceful protest marching to the Houses of Parliament. Little did they know, a cordon of the London police awaited them right in front of the building. The "law enforcement officers" reacted most violently, beating the suffragettes unconscious and throwing them into a crowd of men, enraged at the women's temerity to demand the vote. One suffragette had her clothes torn from her and was passed around naked from one man to the next to take turns violating her body.
Roger could not stand by idly - he approached the scum with a knife in his hand and began to stab wildly. The blood gushed in all directions. The sounds of the mob, shouted profanity, now combined with animalistic shrieks and cries of pain until an even louder sound - the sound of a gun – silenced all of them.
Roger slumped to the ground like a rag doll. He leaned back against a dirty brick wall, looking ashen-faced at the big hole in his chest. He dropped the knife and looked at the shooter - a young, tall policeman. The next thing one could see was a mocking smile spread across Roger's face.
The old man burst into mad, loud laughter, spitting scarlet blood and sputum out through his teeth. He couldn’t believe that the man responsible for protecting the highest human values has just committed the most serious sin. What's more, he committed it to defend worthless people who should have disappeared from this world a long time ago. A dozen seconds later, Roger gasped with a last breath of disappointment.
Vincent could not cope with his grandfather’s death. He was reflecting on the old conversations and happy days spent alongside the best and only friend he ever had. He felt bitter resentment at the idea of his grandfather's murderer escaping punishment. When he turned 12, the accumulated anger boiled over.
The boy could not control it anymore, he tried to find a way to get rid of all the negative emotions devouring him from the inside. He began to get into fights, he was running with a bad crowd, repeatedly abusing alcohol. He led a life of despair until August 1914, when his father enlisted in the army. Vincent's mother worked her tail off to provide for the family in the absence of the head of the family.
Vincent came to the conclusion that he must end many years of mourning, help his mother and relieve her daily duties. It became very clear to him that Roger wouldn’t approve of his grandson’s behavior. He would be disappointed with Vincent, more specifically the person he has become. He used to say: “Vincent, do not repeat my mistakes. You are smart, you are better than that.” Vincent got a grip of himself, found a job as a dogcatcher trainee. Charles Longman, the man who took over the duties of Vincent's grandfather, felt obliged to employ the boy, because his grandfather often gave the money to Charles’ niece.
It soon turned out that Vincent has a flair for this profession. He was quick, smart, he could understand the animal's psyche, he could catch any stray dog with ease. It is obvious he wasn’t making heaps of money, but his salary was high enough to provide for the family. This profession, however, had a big flaw - it was exhausting, both physically and mentally. Vincent was returning home hungry and exhausted; sometimes he heard whispers coming from dark streets in which there was no living soul.
Vincent's father, Douglas, returned from the war in 1918. Vincent was convinced that everything would be as before, but he was wrong. Douglas came back… changed. He stared at the empty walls for days. He used to wake up in the middle of the night, screaming. He was very aggressive towards Vincent’s mother and other family members. He sat in pubs all day, and would return home drunk and bruised over and over again. From time to time, he would smoke opium to silence his war-tormented mind.
One night he returned more drunk than usual. He started shouting, waving a broken bottle in front of his wife. She begged him to calm down, pull himself together, but her requests remained unanswered. Douglas threw the bottle to the ground, grabbed his wife by the hair and dragged her to his room.
The woman screamed; she was hitting him blindly, trying to break free from the iron embrace of the monster she had once called her husband. Douglas got even more angry, punched her in the face, threw her on the bed, squeezing his hands around her neck while forcing himself upon her. The woman's cry turned into a muffled squeak, then to a desperate panting until it finally froze in the endless silence. The innocent soul left a fragile, pale body.
After a few minutes, Vincent became disturbed by the sudden silence. The previous quarrels were different - his parents used to argue with each other for hours until his father fall asleep, fuddled by stinking alcohol. His mother used to return to her room angry like a bear with a sore head, slamming the door behind her. Something was wrong. The boy approached the door ajar hesitantly, asking his father about what has just happened. A moment later he caught a glimpse of his hunched over, crying father, whispering something under his breath. He managed to understand his words: "I did not mean to."
Vincent opened the door wide, ran up to a bed and looked at his mother. She was pale and still. He tried to help her, but it was too late. He realized that his mother is dead. A feeling of helplessness and disbelief came over him. Moments later, they were replaced by enormous anger. Douglas begged his son not to call the police. He swore he would stop drinking and look after his family once again.
Vincent had no choice - he was terrified by the vision of starving siblings. They decided to fake the mother's suicide by hanging her in the basement. They wrote a farewell letter “from Charlotte” – “she” wrote that she decided to commit suicide, because she could not cope with the fact that her husband became someone else, someone she did not recognize anymore. The police swallowed the bait right away.
A few weeks passed. Vincent's father tried to find a job, but to no avail. Nobody wanted to employ a mentally-unstable alcoholic. Charlotte’s parents blamed Douglas for their daughter's death. They claimed that he was responsible for her suicide. Douglas returned to his addiction and the vicious circle began running again.
One December morning, he got up completely drunk, went into his daughter’s room and closed the door behind him. He began to compliment his daughter's beauty, saying that she looks just like her mother. A moment later he grabbed her, tugged at her hair, threw her on the bed and began kissing her belly. Terrified, Alice tried to break free, but she was too weak. She began calling for help.
The girl’s screams woke Vincent up. He pulled out of bed quickly, and ran to the room from which the noise came. He opened the door and froze like a salt pillar - he saw his father forcing himself upon his own daughter. The boy could not stand it anymore and... he snapped. He lunged at his father without a word, grabbed him from behind by the chest and pulled him away from Alice. The angry man hit his son in the face with an elbow. Vincent slumped onto a commode, but he remembered why he was here, so he got up as quickly as he fell. He realized that his father, or whoever he was at the time, was gone forever. It was not his father anymore. It was a monster, an enemy to defeat.
The boy grabbed the lamp and hit Douglas on the head. One could see disbelief in the man's eyes. He stood still in the middle of the room with blood dripping from his temple. He did not even have time to react because Vincent hit him on the head again. This time the man fell limply to the ground. Vincent was not planning to stop - he hit his father several more times, screaming like an enraged animal. He fell into a trance - he thought he was someone else, somewhere else.
He was beating him until he gave up the ghost. When Vincent came to his senses, he looked at his father's corpse, then at his bloody hands and finally at his sister. He got up from his knees, tried to calm her down, but when he touched her, she shuddered like a wounded animal. She stared at her brother, horrified, crying, "What have you done?"
Vincent's mind was filled with emptiness. He stood motionless, his face was without expression. He mumbled something under his breath, walked out of the room, then headed to the living room and sat on a moving armchair, rocking back and forth like a catatonic. Alice called the police. They took the speechless Vincent to the police station and threw him into a cell where two other, strong men were sitting. After a few minutes, the company of dubious reputation began pushing the boy, laughing at the same time, but Vincent did not react to their taunts. The situation changed when the criminals said that such a beautiful boy would undoubtedly be sought after by other fellow inmates.
One could see an animal rage in the boy's eyes. He rose up from the bench, hit one of the men, knocking him to his knees and began slamming his head with all his strength against metal bars. The other prisoner could not believe that what he saw is really happening. In one moment, the quiet boy turned into a brutal killer. The man shouted as loud as he could, crying for help in a shrill, broken voice. One of the guards approached the cell slowly, convinced that prisoners were dramatizing as usual, and then... he noticed a dead prisoner with a crushed skull.
The second prisoner was huddled on the ground, struggling desperately for life, trying to shield himself from the powerful blows of the young boy. The guard ordered the boy to stop, but it seemed like he did not hear the guard; the law enforcement officer opened the cell and then hit the boy on the head with a wooden police nightstick. The boy fell, and a moment later he lost consciousness. He woke up in solitary confinement.
It is hard to imagine how strong the stench was. The solitary confinement was dirty, damp, there was a smell of piss and vomit in the air. Every normal human being would start screaming, punching metal doors, cursing like a sailor. But not Vincent... Vincent was no longer a normal man. It is a mystery whether there was even a little bit of humanity left in him, a grain of goodness sown in the boy's heart by his dead grandfather. His thoughts resembled the worst nightmares. He began to question whether there is goodness or justice in the world, because his life was filled with cruelty and pain. In his world, the stronger always wins and usually does not live according to the divine commandments. The boy promised himself that he would not be broken, even if it meant betraying his grandfather's teachings. He fell asleep in the corner of the room, filled with anger and disappointment. He woke up in the middle of the night because of the sudden argument. He tried to overhear the conversation, but he managed to catch only the last few words: "murderer," "madman," "potential". It seemed to him that the word "potential" did not match the rest, but...
Vincent heard the sound of footsteps along with keys clanking, followed by a metal creaking yank. Someone opened the door and crossed the threshold of solitary confinement - a muscular middle-aged soldier. He had many medals pinned to his uniform. He introduced himself as Clifford Harrison and submitted an unusual proposition - he said that he would free the boy from imprisonment for his crimes on the condition that he would undergo military training and fight against the Irish partisans. Vincent accepted the man's offer in the blink of an eye. He was pleased that he was offered an opportunity to release his fiery anger that burned him from within. When he got to the training camp, he quickly proved that he had a knack for war, but he was most famous for his talent to predict the movements of other people, chasing them down like a relentless hunter. People became interested in Vincent’s life and began gossiping. When they got to know the story of the boy and his family, they started calling him "The Dogcatcher."
"The Dogcatcher" came to Ireland at the end of January 1919. The Irish partisans were convinced that the British would not dare sending their soldiers to an unfamiliar territory deep into the forest. They were right - British commanders came to the conclusion that chasing partisans so far into the forest is not the best tactical move. Vincent, however, had a different opinion - he did not plan to wait for the opponent's move, he wanted to attack him. He moved from words to deeds. The local group of IRA partisans consisted of a hundred people. Two weeks have passed. The partisans were losing men at the rate of one per day. Whoever the enemy was, he was in the habit of stealing dog tags which belonged to the dead partisans. The leader of the Irish unit of partisans decided that it is high time to find the mysterious enemy. He was surprised that so far no one had caught him, especially considering that his people used to scout the area in a squad of five men. He devised a bold, risky plan - he decided to send a smaller group of scouts, consisting of three men, to lure the enemy out at night. He wanted to set an example to others, show them that there is nothing to be afraid of, so he joined the group as a volunteer. His plan succeeded... in a way.
The Irish partisans crept down under the cover of the night, passing by old, rotten trees. They walked a few hundred meters and found a small pond and a wooden forester's lodge nearby; they were convinced that the enemy was hiding in the house, because in their opinion it was impossible to survive outside at night, especially during frosty winter. They did not even know how wrong they were. They went into the house. The wooden floor creaked under the weight of soldiers' boots. One could feel the icy moisture coming from the nearby rooms. The partisans looked around - at first glance the house seemed empty. It made them confused and surprised but they decided to search every room to be absolutely sure that nobody was in the house. Vincent emerged from the pond and sneaked behind his enemies. He managed to find the first soldier in under two minutes, he fell on him from behind silently, strangling him using a rear-naked choke and held him until he lost consciousness, falling to the floor like a rag doll. He dragged him to the basement secretly, tied him up with a rope to a barrel and went upstairs, leaving the cellar door wide open. He went to the kitchen, took out the cutlery from the open drawer and threw it down to the basement, then hid under the bed in the nearby room, from which he had a view of the entrance to the basement. A loud sound alerted the other partisans. They approached the entrance very slowly. The other subordinate pointed at the place he intended to go to. The leader nodded his head affirmatively and walked down the stairs. A moment later, Vincent got out from under the bed and sneaked on the partisan from behind. He strangled him unconscious in the same manner. Vincent felt a sudden rush of adrenaline, because he realized that he had only one more opponent to deal with - the leader of the group. Vincent hoped that the leader would be a bit stronger and smarter than the rest, but it turned out that he was not.
Vincent went down the stairs to the basement and set his eyes on the man clutching a heavy, large shotgun in his hands, looking nervously around the basement. He found an unconscious subordinate. The man opened his eyes widely; an icy chill took over his body. Vincent thought that the last opponent deserves special treatment, grabbing a shotgun lying on the floor and firing at the ceiling. The leader began shouting in a trembling voice, calling a soldier who, he thought, was just upstairs. The omnipresent silence was his only answer. Terrified, he went up the stairs and met Death itself.
Vincent emerged from behind a corner with a hunting knife in his hand and slashed the poor man's throat. A moment later he stabbed him with a knife in the stomach, and finally snatched the shotgun from his hands. Fog, fear and disbelief covered the eyes of a dying man. He was bleeding out on the stairs, looking at Vincent with tear-stained eyes. Vincent looked at his prey icily and said something that the leader of the partisans took with him to the grave: "One at a time.”
After a few hours, the unconscious partisan lying upstairs woke up, looked around him and found the corpse of the leader. He pricked his ears up, trying to find out if the enemy was still nearby, but he did not hear anything. He decided to take a risk, grabbing the rifle in his hand, proceeding down to the basement, rousing his companion and freeing him. They ran out of the lodge as fast as they could and returned there as a team consisting of twenty men. They searched the area for the enemy, but they found no one. The next day the partisans waited for another attack, but nothing happened. They were guessing that the attacker, whoever he was, ran away to call for reinforcements. They decided to withdraw from the forest and camp somewhere else to avoid further casualties.
The war came to an end, the Irish partisans having achieved their goal, becoming somewhat independent of Great Britain. While visiting Irish pubs, one could hear the story spreading as fast as an epidemic – the story of a British assassin, hunting for partisans hidden somewhere in the forest thicket. Irish parents used to scare their children with this story to prevent them from wandering alone at night. Some people were embellishing the tale, adding newer elements – some of them claimed that the soldier was lurking in the wilderness, waiting for another war to start his hunt again. Others claimed that he had settled somewhere in Ireland and hunted for partisans who survived the previous war. The truth, however, was a bit different...
On that fateful night, when the partisans returned to search the lodge for the second time, Vincent ran away stealthily to a nearby village. He needed food. He could not hunt animals in the forest; it would be too loud, too risky. Under the cover of the night, he went into a barn, trying to steal some wheat, oats - anything. Suddenly, he heard muffled screams. It turned out he was not alone - there was someone else. He saw two British soldiers, trying to ######### an Irish peasant woman.
The old, painful memories returned. Vincent thought that he might regain some of his former humanity by murdering rapists - he believed it was a good deed. He drew his gun and shot one of them in the head. The other soldier's eyes widened; he tried to pull up his pants, but then Vincent came up to him, grabbed the scum by his uniform, threw him on the pile of hay, snatched the pitchfork and stuck it in the man's chest. The soldier could not believe his eyes; he was filled with fear he had never felt before; fear of death. Vincent turned to the girl, smiled and said resolutely "Ah, these men."
A moment later he heard the shot. He felt cold. Ironically, it did not bother him all winter, but then he felt it twice as hard. The next thing he heard was the girl's plea, begging the shooter to lower his weapon. It turned out that he was the girl's brother. He took Vincent as one of the attackers, because he wore an enemy uniform.
Unfortunately, it was too late. Vincent slumped limply on the wooden wall. He looked at the hole in his chest. He tried to breathe, but couldn’t. Nevertheless ... he was satisfied. He was happy that he would leave this world like his grandfather. He did not feel regret, resentment or fear. Quite the opposite - he felt relieved that someone put him out of his misery. Before he died, he heard a quiet, dark voice in his head, making an unusual proposition; the voice promised Vincent that if he stops fighting for his life, closes his eyes and hunts the others for some sort of “Entity” in “their world,” then after a while, he might be able to meet his grandfather once again.
At first, Vincent did not know what to think, but eventually came to the conclusion that good and evil did not matter at all. What really matters is the people we care about. He accepted the offer. He would do anything to unite with the only person he really ever loved.
He closed his eyes. When he opened them, he woke up in a completely different dimension. He noticed his grandfather’s old hat lying on the ground – it was a proof from The Entity itself, the proof that The Entity’s promise was not spurious. Vincent picked it up and put it on his head – that’s when The Entity enslaved his mind and soul alike, turning him into relentless servant of the deepest, inhuman darkness.
Nothing will stop him. He will do anything to meet his grandfather once again.
© Copyright 2019 Daniel Andrzej Kłosiński. All Rights Reserved.
Power - Whip of The Entity
Vincent is not only stealthy, he IS stealth.
The Dogcatcher's past is a scar turned into a dark weapon. Having been freed from all emotions and desires, he draws his power from The Entity itself.
The Dogcatcher has a power gauge that builds up over time. The Power ‘Whip of the Entity’ can be activated by tapping the Power button. Once active:
- The Dogcatcher turns into a nearly invisible shadow
- The Dogcatcher enters the status of 'Undetectable' for 30 seconds - makes no sounds, his terror radius is reduced to 0 metres, and his Red Stain disappears
- The Dogcatcher can attack the Survivors with his primary weapon while being in the shadow form.
New status effect connected to the power - 'Drained'
While ‘Whip of the Entity’ is active, hitting a Survivor who is not currently afflicted with the ‘Drained’ status effect:
- Applies the ‘Drained’ status effect for 90 seconds
- Injures the Survivor, if he is not already injured
- Depletes The Dogcatchers's entire power gauge and ends the power immediately; The Dogcatcher returns to his physical form.
The Survivor who suffers from the ‘Drained’ status effect stumbles after vaulting through a window or a pallet.
The Survivor who suffers from the ‘Drained’ status effect might remove it by:
- Finding another Survivor who’s willing to channel his energy; the Survivor who channeled his energy suffers from the ‘Exhausted’ status effect for 60 seconds
- Waiting for the effect to wear off
Weapon: Claws of The Entity
The Dogcatcher’s hand has been transformed into a ghastly weapon made of shadows. Not only is it capable of piercing through your flesh and bones but also your soul, filling it with unimaginable fear and pain.
As strange as it sounds, men and women alike wear matching underwear for a reason - it makes sense. Perks of the characters are no exception to this rule, and must be related to the story.
One at a time
Killing is a ritual which mustn’t be rushed.
You become obsessed with one survivor. Each time you hit your obsession, you earn one token. You can earn up to 8 tokens. You do not earn any tokens for hooking or putting your obsession into the dying state. When you accumulate:
· 2 tokens – Once downed, the obsession can’t recover from the dying state independently.
· 4 tokens – Once unhooked, the obsession suffers from the Broken status effect for 40/50/60 seconds.
· 6 tokens - The obsession suffers from the Exhausted status effect permanently.
· 8 tokens – Grants the ability to kill the obsession by your own hand. Once you kill your obsession, all remaining survivors suffer from the Exposed status effect for 30/40/60 seconds.
Once your Obsession dies, the other random Survivor becomes your new Obsession. The aforementioned effects sum up and stack.
“One at a time – no rush.”
Stealing your loot is a death sentence. The survivors search chests 50% slower. Whenever any Survivor searches a chest, his aura will be revealed to you for 3/4/5 seconds. Additionally, he will suffer from Exposed status effect for 40/50/60 seconds. ‘Hands off!’ has a cool-down of 30/25/20 seconds.
“My goods will cost you dearly, you pathetic thief!”
Hex: Shroud of Silence
A hex that affects the Survivors’ ability to hide and hear the Killer. All survivors are affected by Shroud of Silence, which causes the following:
· The Survivors suffer from the Oblivious status effect.
· The Survivors can’t hide in the lockers for 80/100/120 seconds at the start of the Trial.
The Hex effects persist as long as the related Hex Totem is standing.
“The eternal silence shall chew on your soul”
All add-ons would be related to the Killer's power and the 'Drained' status effect. As of now, I decided to avoid creating tons of potential add-ons, because that's the least relevant thing at this point.
Lastly, your feedback
I would be insanely grateful for any feedback, critism or any other expression of your thoughts. I want to believe that the Killer made by the fan can actually make it into the game. Hopefully, with your help, we can make that happen.
Beware of The Entity, People of The Fog