My fangirl-ish-ness knows no bounds...
So... I was randomly staring at a blank template in Word, pretending to be working on my own story (and failing miserably, hence the blank template) when a line, or rather, a scene popped into my head...for whatever reason.
I saw Heather grown up, several years after Silent Hill 3 ended, sitting in a coffee shop reading the newspaper when suddenly she notices a familiar face in the line waiting to be served... :]
And my fangirl-ish-ness exploded when I thought of who that "familiar face" could be, and so, I present you with my first fanfic for...gosh... seven years? O.O It's rather short, but I like it... Plus, I'm super proud of the way I wrote Heather... *evil laugh* Her personality is so fiery!
“There’s no break from heartache here, eh?” She smiled and tipped her coffee cup towards him, delivering a gentle nod before her eyes returned to scanning the morning paper.
“Uh,” he stammered, slipping out of the long line of anxious people awaiting their morning coffee. “Are you talking to me?” He moved toward her table, curiosity and a bit of anger creeping over his youthful, yet stress-worn face.
“Do you see another Alex Shepherd here?” her voice mocked him and her eyes didn’t even attempt to break away from the paper.
He was intrigued now for sure. He took a seat across from her at the small table. “How do you know my name?”
She ignored him.
A bit of anger rose in his voice. “I’m talking to you!” He snapped, reaching forward and ripping the paper out of her hand and slamming it onto the table. Everyone in the coffee shop suddenly had their eyes on him, terrified of what he might do next.
She eyed him, gently. He found himself seized underneath those auburn eyes, and the rage leaked from his muscles until he collapsed back into his seat. A soft smile spread over her pink lips. She set her coffee cup down, grabbed the now crinkled and ripped newspaper with both hands, turned it over, and pushed it toward him.
“You’re not exactly hard to spot.”
Confused, he glanced down at the newspaper and was startled to find his face on the front page. Skimming the headline and opening lines of the article, he read aloud: “U.S. Soldier’s Lost Memories. Alex Shepherd, claiming to be a U.S. soldier, was found early Monday morning wandering the streets of Brahams, West Virginia, claiming he was looking for his younger brother. An enlisted hero searching for his family? A heartwarming story, perhaps under different circumstances. The newest information from the U.S. Army proves that there is no record of anyone named Alex Shepherd enlisted in the first place. So who is this lost soldier, and what memories does his mind have hidden away?”
He glanced at her. “You believe this crap?”
She nodded and sipped her coffee. “I believe that you were found outside of Brahams…well, I believe you were found about ten miles west of Brahams.” Her voice dropped to a whisper and she leaned forward. “You know about that town, don’t you?”
He immediately shook his head. “I-I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“It’s okay, Alex,” she said with a quick laugh. “You’re not the only one who has been forced to suffer through that hell.”
“What are you talking about?” He searched her face for any hint of humor. There wasn’t one. “Who are you anyway?”
She stood up, clutching her coffee in one hand and folding up the newspaper with the other. Silently, she headed for the door, never looking back. With a gentle ring of the bell over the door, she was gone from sight.
Sighing, his head spinning, Alex turned back to glance at the barren seat she had occupied only seconds earlier. His mind was reeling with questions: who was she? What did she think she was talking about? “I believe you were found about ten miles west of Brahams.” He shuddered. She couldn’t have been talking about…
“You know about that town, don’t you?”
That town? Could she know about it too, or was she just trying to screw with his head like every other crack-pot journalist and reporter that had tried to get in touch with him over the last week?
“You know about that town, don’t you?”
You’re damn right I do, he thought. Silent Hill… I’ll never forget that place.
And he wouldn’t forget her either.
Hmm... I smell a Sims Series... :P Kidding, of course...it's too much damn work, but this ws fun to write! If it goes somewhere, maybe...plus..I already made sim versions of Heather and Alex... *blush*
I saw Heather grown up, several years after Silent Hill 3 ended, sitting in a coffee shop reading the newspaper when suddenly she notices a familiar face in the line waiting to be served... :]
And my fangirl-ish-ness exploded when I thought of who that "familiar face" could be, and so, I present you with my first fanfic for...gosh... seven years? O.O It's rather short, but I like it... Plus, I'm super proud of the way I wrote Heather... *evil laugh* Her personality is so fiery!
“There’s no break from heartache here, eh?” She smiled and tipped her coffee cup towards him, delivering a gentle nod before her eyes returned to scanning the morning paper.
“Uh,” he stammered, slipping out of the long line of anxious people awaiting their morning coffee. “Are you talking to me?” He moved toward her table, curiosity and a bit of anger creeping over his youthful, yet stress-worn face.
“Do you see another Alex Shepherd here?” her voice mocked him and her eyes didn’t even attempt to break away from the paper.
He was intrigued now for sure. He took a seat across from her at the small table. “How do you know my name?”
She ignored him.
A bit of anger rose in his voice. “I’m talking to you!” He snapped, reaching forward and ripping the paper out of her hand and slamming it onto the table. Everyone in the coffee shop suddenly had their eyes on him, terrified of what he might do next.
She eyed him, gently. He found himself seized underneath those auburn eyes, and the rage leaked from his muscles until he collapsed back into his seat. A soft smile spread over her pink lips. She set her coffee cup down, grabbed the now crinkled and ripped newspaper with both hands, turned it over, and pushed it toward him.
“You’re not exactly hard to spot.”
Confused, he glanced down at the newspaper and was startled to find his face on the front page. Skimming the headline and opening lines of the article, he read aloud: “U.S. Soldier’s Lost Memories. Alex Shepherd, claiming to be a U.S. soldier, was found early Monday morning wandering the streets of Brahams, West Virginia, claiming he was looking for his younger brother. An enlisted hero searching for his family? A heartwarming story, perhaps under different circumstances. The newest information from the U.S. Army proves that there is no record of anyone named Alex Shepherd enlisted in the first place. So who is this lost soldier, and what memories does his mind have hidden away?”
He glanced at her. “You believe this crap?”
She nodded and sipped her coffee. “I believe that you were found outside of Brahams…well, I believe you were found about ten miles west of Brahams.” Her voice dropped to a whisper and she leaned forward. “You know about that town, don’t you?”
He immediately shook his head. “I-I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“It’s okay, Alex,” she said with a quick laugh. “You’re not the only one who has been forced to suffer through that hell.”
“What are you talking about?” He searched her face for any hint of humor. There wasn’t one. “Who are you anyway?”
She stood up, clutching her coffee in one hand and folding up the newspaper with the other. Silently, she headed for the door, never looking back. With a gentle ring of the bell over the door, she was gone from sight.
Sighing, his head spinning, Alex turned back to glance at the barren seat she had occupied only seconds earlier. His mind was reeling with questions: who was she? What did she think she was talking about? “I believe you were found about ten miles west of Brahams.” He shuddered. She couldn’t have been talking about…
“You know about that town, don’t you?”
That town? Could she know about it too, or was she just trying to screw with his head like every other crack-pot journalist and reporter that had tried to get in touch with him over the last week?
“You know about that town, don’t you?”
You’re damn right I do, he thought. Silent Hill… I’ll never forget that place.
And he wouldn’t forget her either.
Hmm... I smell a Sims Series... :P Kidding, of course...it's too much damn work, but this ws fun to write! If it goes somewhere, maybe...plus..I already made sim versions of Heather and Alex... *blush*