Drag Them Into Hell - Chapter Three

[housejackbuilt1]

Title: Drag Them Into Hell
Author: housejackbuilt1
Rating: NC-17 eventually
Warnings: Swearing, violence, gore, horror *SPOILERS FOR SH5 AND SH2!*
Chapter Warnings: Strong language, violence.
Pairing: None as of yet
Disclaimer: I don't own Silent Hill or any of its characters or creations. All credit goes to the makers. I am not making any money off this story.
Author's Note: My first SH fanfiction. I've just finished playing SH5 and loved it. I wanted to write something with my two favourite boys, Alex and James (and Pyramid Head of course) Here is the result. Comments and feedback are loved more than puppies.
Summary: It's been five months since Alex Shepherd left Silent Hill and he is trying to rebuild his life. Things are going well until children start to go missing from his hometown and he hears voices calling him back to Silent Hill. James Sunderland is still in Silent Hill, continuously being tormented. His spirit is faltering and he is growing weaker by the day, considering suicide daily. Pyramid Head won't allow James to leave and wants Alex to come home. You cannot escape who you are.


Beware of he who took them-he goes by many names.
The Bogeyman, the Shadowed One, but all are he, the same.

The first thing Alex awoke to besides a splitting headache was a very wet tongue lapping at his face and the foul smell of canine breath invading his nostrils.

"King get off! Get off me boy!" Alex said, pushing the dog away. He sat up and let out a sharp hiss when a bolt of pain shot through his head and took residence in his temples. He felt like he'd just been on a twenty-four hour drinking binge and was suffering the effects of the monstrous hangover that would inevitably follow the next day. But this was no hangover. Alex wished it were that simple. He'd suffered from a blackout, and not just any blackout. This particular blackout had a familiar bitter taste about it. He'd experienced the same bouts of unconsciousness before... In Shepherds Glen and Silent Hill. A feeling of dread began to form in the pit of his stomach but was banished quickly by a little voice called Common Sense.

The blackout could have been caused by anything. Just because you had blackouts in those places that you'd rather forget about, doesn't mean that the two are related. Maybe it was the medicine that old Dr Fox has been prescribing? Maybe it was tiredness, fatigue or just a simple spell of dizziness? It could have been a number of common things yet you jump straight to good old Silent Hill. You can always be counted on to think of the craziest solution first Alex my boy!

He wanted to listen to that pompous voice that was shouting at him deep from his subconscious. He wanted to believe it so much and he would have done, had it not been for the fact that he was watching a news report about a child who had gone missing not ten minutes away from his home when the blackout happened.

So you had a blackout while you were watching a news report about a missing child, so what? The answer is simple: Stress. The news about the missing kid brought back memories for you. Bad memories. Memories of missing children and sacrifices and-

"Okay!" Alex shouted to the empty room. King had lost interest once his owner had picked himself up off the floor and was now mooching about in the back yard. "I get it!"

That explanation would have been satisfactory for Alex. He couldn't handle hearing about children going missing again, not this soon after Silent Hill. He couldn't handle it and his brain had gone into overload causing him to lose consciousness. Of course that was what happened... except... it wasn't. Something was niggling at him, gnawing away until the irritation became unbearable and he could stand it no longer. Before he blacked out he heard something. He heard a whisper. Very faint, but he heard it. The voice, which he didn't think he recognised, was whispering his name. He knew he didn't imagine it and silenced the irritating Common Sense voice that was just about to pop up to suggest that very same thing. He heard it. He heard it as clear as he heard King barking in the back yard at that very moment. He heard it as clearly as he heard the footsteps of the children playing jump rope outside. He knew it wasn't some phantom voice caused by the blackout and he wasn't going to let anybody, Common Sense or otherwise, tell him any different.

Alex didn't recognise the voice but the more he thought about it, the more sharp needles of fear began to prickle his scalp. He didn't know to whom the voice belonged, but he couldn't help feeling that he did know. Right now the answer was evading him and he needed to get out of the house to clear his head and think things through.

"King, you want to go for a walk boy?" Alex shouted and the black Labrador came sprinting inside, skidding on the linoleum floor as he did so.

The sun was beginning to set over the town of Oakley and the last bits of blue that could be seen in the sky were being drowned out by the brilliant blaze of orange that dusk was creating. Flecks of ruby painted the sky, giving the impression that the pink clouds that resembled candy floss, were crying tears of blood.

Alex pulled up the collar of his khaki jacket to keep out a stiff breeze that was constantly at his back. King pulled on his leash, happily sniffing everything that was in reach of his curious nose, trying to chase brightly coloured butterfly's that were making their way home for the evening. Alex smiled at the dog fondly and realised, without any conscious thought, that he'd arrived at the local park.

Ordinarily the park would be full of life. Children would be laughing and chasing one another with their seemingly endless amounts of energy. Shouts of, "Push me higher Mummy!" would frequently be heard as the kids would beg their parents to send them to the sky on the swings. Girlish giggles would float around as the boys would tease the girls and pull their hair. But now, the park was abandoned and as silent as a cemetery. It looked less like a children's paradise but more like a playground in the pits of Hell. Discarded pieces of litter blew across the pavement, some getting caught in the climbing frame, and the sky which was now more red than orange, bathed everything in its eerie glow and the shadows cast from the setting sun became more elongated and gnarled. The red glow paired with the deep shadows gave Alex the impression that someone had put a match to the park and burned it to the ground. He shuddered and walked around the perimeter, stopping whenever something took King's interest.

Even if Alex wanted to go inside, the yellow police tape that surrounded the park would have prevented it. He saw three police cars parked along the sidewalk nearby and about half a dozen police officers searching the field which faced the park, obviously looking for the missing child, Toby Griffiths. Only one of the three cars was occupied by a broad shouldered cop talking into the police radio. Alex also spotted a news van a little farther down the road but figured the reporters must be inside, wrapping up for the day. All of the other reporters had apparently called it a day a while ago.

Alex was about to call it a day himself when he was violently jerked forward by King who had begun to bark frantically and was bounding across the road toward the occupied police car.

"Shit! King stop! Bad dog, STOP!" Alex pulled on the dog's leash to try and get him under control but the more he pulled, so did King and the leash was pulled from his grip. The Labrador accelerated across the road just as the broad shouldered police man was getting out of his car and for one horrifying moment, Alex thought that King was going to attack him. But King apparently wasn't interested in the police officer because he made his way to the curb behind the black and white cruiser and continued to bark ferociously down a gutter.

"Excuse me Sir, would you mind getting your animal under control? We have police officers handling a very delicate crime scene here and your dog going ape shit over a drain isn't helping matters." Officer Broad Shoulders shot a disapproving look at King and then the same look back at Alex.

"I'm sorry Officer," exclaimed Alex, making his way over to King. "I don't know what's gotten into him; he's never usually like this."

Alex knelt down and had to physically drag King back by his collar. He clipped his leash back on and stood up.

"Bad dog King! Don't you ever do that again!" Alex scolded the animal and the mutt produced a whining sound, his barking subsided for now.

"Now would you please make your way home Sir? We're trying to keep this area clear after the incident yesterday."

Alex apologised again and Officer Broad Shoulders got back into his car. Alex was about to leave when he heard a faint laughter that sounded very child-like coming from behind him. He turned around quickly and wasn't surprised to see that nobody was there. Boy Alex, you really need to ask Dr Fox for more pills, he thought.

"Rock a bye baby..."

What the hell? Alex turned his head sharply toward the gutter that King was barking at just a few moments ago. Did he really just hear singing coming from down there? He looked at Officer Broad Shoulders who was still pre-occupied with his radio. Of course he didn't hear singing coming from down there. It was a gutter! But he knelt down on one knee and leaned closer regardless. Alex looked into the gloom; the blackness seemed to be never ending. He felt tiny sharp pieces of ice begin to crawl up his spine when the faint, child-like voice began to sing again, floating up from the darkness.

"... On the tree tops,

When the wind blows the cradle will rock,

When the bough breaks the cradle will fall,

And down will come baby, cradle and all."

This was followed by more children's laughter and Alex felt nauseous. Was he really hearing this? How was this possible? There can't be children down there. There just can't! He decided that he was hallucinating, hearing things. The blackout he had today must have triggered it. Plus, he hadn't taken his medication today. Yes, that was the reason he was hearing children's voices singing to him from a sewer. That had to be the reason.

"Come down here Alex. Come and hold our hands and let us take you with us. He misses you... he wants you to come home Alex."

At that very moment, more than a dozen fat black bugs erupted out of the gutter, making sickening clicking and popping noises as they crawled over one another. Alex let out a startled cry and fell back on to the pavement. His feet scraped against the concrete as he frantically tried to push himself away from the oncoming creatures. King barked and snapped at a few of them, saliva flying out of his mouth as he did so. Alex finally got to his feet and realised with horrified fascination that these weren't the kind of bugs you saw on those nature programmes on TV. He'd saw these bastards before. He'd saw them in Silent Hill! What the hell was going on here? Panic began to rise in his throat and he crushed the will to scream by crushing the bugs instead. He stomped on them violently, one after the other, green pus exploding from each one as they were flattened under his shoes.

"Whoa, whoa! Easy Sir!" Officer Broad Shoulders appeared at Alex's side after hearing the continuous stomping and King's violent barking. "It's just bugs Sir, calm down."

Alex looked down and whatever insects that had managed to escape had all retreated back down the gutter. The rest were either smeared on the pavement or on the bottom of his shoe. He tried to slow his breathing but he couldn't. He was confused and scared. Too much had happened today for it to be a coincidence or for him to be imagining it all. He had to get home. Alex made a feeble excuse to the officer about having a phobia of bugs and began making his way across the road. He noticed that when he left, the door to the police car was hanging open. And as much as he denied that the events of today weren't simply coincidence, he found himself hoping that the static omitting from the police radio was.

The sky had turned a light shade of purple by the time Alex returned home, with little flames of orange trying to poke their way through the thick clouds. He felt shaky and sick and King apparently felt the same way. He wasn't sniffing at anything or pulling on his leash like he normally did, he looked like he wanted to get home just as much as Alex.

As Alex passed Bill Oldman's house, he saw his neighbour sitting on his porch with his son William. William had a book in his hands and was reading to Bill. He often did that so he could progress in the reading stages in school, he was a bright kid.

Bill looked up from the book and waved to Alex. "Hey buddy, how's it going?"

When William saw King he dropped his book and came running over, he loved to pet him. "Hey King! How's my favourite dog huh?" He stroked the dog behind the ears. "Hey Alex," he said, almost as an afterthought.

Alex smiled at William. He reminded him so much of Josh. The brown hair, the big brown eyes, the bunny doll that he constantly carried around with him just like Josh used to do. Alex did a double take. In the hand that wasn't petting King, William held a pink bunny rabbit doll, very similar - no identical to the one Josh used to have. Alex had Josh's doll in his house; he couldn't bear to throw it away. So was it sheer coincidence that his next door neighbour's kid happened to have the exact same doll? Alex didn't think so.

"Hey William, can I take a closer look at your doll? My brother used to have one just like that."

William handed Alex the rabbit and he turned it over in his hands, examining it. It was exactly the same, right down to the last detail. Alex noticed some writing on the label in a childish scrawl. It said, 'William Oldman, Oakley'.

He handed William back the doll. "Where did you get that William?"

William looked at his father on the porch, then back at Alex. He lowered his voice. It was as if he didn't want his dad to hear what he was about to say. "I got it from the park yesterday. The man who lives in the gutter gave it to me."

James coughed violently, the black, poisonous gas burning his lungs and his throat. His eyes were streaming and through his blurred vision and the thick cloud of poison he could just about make out the Smog that had took him by surprise.

He had wandered from the moderate safety of the Woodside Apartments in south Silent Hill to central Silent Hill, looking for something to barricade his apartment door with after the unfortunate incident with Pyramid Head the previous night. He wasn't pleased to wake up the next morning to find that the hole his tormentor had created in the door had been invaded by several black bugs during the night and he'd spent the best part of an hour stomping on them and whacking them to oblivion with a plank of wood.

He hadn't slept much at all due to nightmares and more whispers in his head and now he was paying the price. His lack of sleep had made him groggy and sluggish whilst walking the deserted streets of Silent Hill and he'd not noticed the Smog that had seemed to materialise out of the fog. He'd suspected the little bastard had come out of Dargento Cemetery, that's where they all seemed to congregate these days.

Now James felt like he'd drunk a pint full of sulphuric acid. His lungs were on fire and he was finding it increasingly difficult to breathe. He had to get out of this gas and fast! He blindly took as many steps backward as he could, praying that he wouldn't trip on some unseen rubble or bump into another creature that was ready to skewer him from behind. The poisonous toxin began to thin out the further back he went and he found that he could breathe and see a little better with each step.

James wiped his eyes furiously with the back of his hand and looked through the fog, trying to locate the son of a bitch. He didn't have to look very hard. The monster's glowing orange eyes and bulging tumours were like candles in the dark and James took aim with his pistol, his hand steady. The Smog reared its head back, inhaling a lung full of fog-filled air.

Wait for it. Wait for it!

Its awkward, twitching movements gave James the impression of a mental patient, slowly being burned to death. It looked like each laboured step the creature took caused it great pain. It took a few lumbering steps forward.

Wait... wait.

It leaned forward, then leaned backward... and opened its ribcage.

NOW!

James squeezed the trigger on his pistol three times and shot it point blank in its exposed lungs. The Smog fell to the floor in a smouldering, twitching heap. It was dead. James aimed his pistol at the creature just in case it decided to jump back up again, which they often did. But it was dead and James reloaded then lowered his weapon.

He had to move on and find something for his door quickly. He'd been out in the open way too long. He'd hoped to avoid confrontation as much as possible. Not only to avoid being ambushed and to conserve ammo, but the shots from his pistol would most likely alert other beasts to his location and the last thing he needed was a pack of Ferals or Lurkers on his heels.

James hurried south on Sagan Street and decided to see if the Bait shop on the corner was open. Maybe they'd have something in there he could use. It came as no surprise to him that the door was locked. He decided against breaking the glass, he wanted to make as little noise as possible. Maybe they'd have something around the back? He turned around and was about to head towards the back of the shop to rummage through whatever junk might have been left there when movement to his right caught his eye. James spun around sharply, weapon raised at whatever was about to attack him. But he lowered his weapon as soon as he'd raised it in disbelief when he saw what was standing a few yards in front of him.

It was a child. A little boy with sandy coloured hair and blue eyes that were full of fear. He was wearing a yellow t-shirt that was ripped at the collar bone and blue shorts. James noticed a nasty graze on his right knee and saw that the kid was missing a shoe. He couldn't have been more than ten years old. What was a child doing here? The only other human beings that James had saw here since he found out the truth were Order members and in a strange way, just like the monsters, they belonged here. But a child? A child had no business on these dangerous, shadow filled streets.

James suddenly had an image of another blonde haired child, only this child was a girl. Laura. The little girl that Mary was hoping to adopt had she not... had he not... James shook his head and forced himself not to think about it. This wasn't the time or the place. James slowly put the gun in the back of his waistband and held up his hands carefully.

"Are you lost kid?"

No response. The child only stared.

"What's your name?"

The boy opened his mouth to speak, "T-Toby. Toby Griffiths. I-I want my mommy!" His fragile voice began to crack and tears seeped out from his sapphire eyes.

"Okay, okay," James said in the most soothing tone he could muster. "Just come with me and-"

"No! You have a gun! You're a bad man!" cried Toby and bolted off into the fog.

"Hey wait! You can't go out there alone!" shouted James and ran after him. It was a good job that the boy was wearing such a brightly coloured t-shirt or James would have lost him to the fog before he could even gather speed.

Toby's footsteps echoed on the pavement with James' own footsteps echoing seconds after. It sounded as if a phantom horseman of the apocalypse was galloping behind them and catching up fast, leaving all kinds of destruction in his wake. They were running west on Sagan Street and James considered shouting to the boy again but decided against it when he realised he should just save all of his energy on catching him. Toby made a sharp turn left on to Simmons Street and James skidded on the pavement, almost losing his balance at the unexpected change in direction. He cursed under his breath and picked up speed again. Overlook Penitentiary loomed on their left like some phantom death house that you only read about in horror novels and James tried not to look at it. It made him feel uneasy, just like everything else in this town.

He skidded to an abrupt halt when he saw that Toby had also stopped. The boy was cautiously taking slow steps backward and as the fog momentarily cleared, James saw why. A very hungry looking Feral was standing in front of the kid, growling and licking its chops in anticipation. James looked down and saw a thin stream of urine making its way down Toby's leg and he could hear the child whimpering. James quickly retrieved his pistol and took aim but the boy was in the way.

"Get out of the way kid!" James shouted.

Toby began to move to the right without turning around and it was a good job he did because before James could even squeeze off a shot, a huge blade cut through the fog and pierced the Feral from behind and out through its mouth. A fine and thick spray of blood protruded from the canine and rained down on the pavement, staining the concrete. Toby squealed as the blade withdrew back into the fog and the body of the Feral collapsed on to the floor, a pool of blood spreading from the corpse. James tried to stifle a despaired moan when the owner of the deadly blade slowly stepped into view.

He knew who the instrument of death belonged to as soon as he saw it but he was hoping that the owner would just leave after killing the Feral. No such luck and James knew it. The point of the large pyramid protruded from the mist, then the bloodstained apron and then the rest of him in all of his horrifying glory. Toby began to cry when he saw Pyramid Head and James wished he could do the same thing. But instead he raised his pistol with damp, shaking hands and pointed it at the creature.

As soon as James began to raise his weapon, a dark tongue, the very same tongue that had wrapped itself around James leg the night before, shot out from the rusty helmet and wrapped itself around the boys waist. Toby's scream pierced through the air as he was dragged toward Pyramid Head and was hoisted up from the ground and into the creatures bulking arms. James lowered his weapon. No way was he going to shoot. He couldn't risk hitting the boy. He already had one death on his conscience, he didn't need another. Pyramid Head begun to turn around and head into the fog.

"Wait!" James cried. The creature turned his head. "Just let the kid go. He doesn't deserve this; he's just a fucking kid!"

"If you want him my Creator... come and get him. You know where I'll be don't you? You've always known... that's where I've always been waiting. Waiting for you James."

James knew exactly where the bastard was going to take the boy. Beneath the Church, down to his Lair. Down, down he would drag little Toby, ignoring his screams and his tears. He would drag him to the depths of hell, never to be seen or heard from again. Down into the darkness.

Pyramid Head turned and disappeared into the fog. James could hear Toby's cries for help. He could hear Toby begging James not to leave him, crying and begging and pleading. James's hands were shaking violently and he had broken out in a cold sweat. He stood there staring into the fog at the spot where his tormentor had been just a moment ago. He should go after him. He should try and save the boy from his oncoming fate worse than death. He was innocent, he was a child! James should save him. But his legs wouldn't move. That's just what the bastard wants! James thought. He wants me to follow him down there so he can torture me and do God knows what to me. The boy was just bait, a maggot on a stick and I was the fish he was trying to catch. If I go down there now I'll never come out. And I can't die at the hands of that monster, I just can't!

James heart shouted one thing. It was shouting at him to go and save Toby. Pyramid Head was, as the monster so aptly put it, his creation. The boy wasn't to blame in any of this and shouldn't be punished just because James was a murdering bastard. But his mind, the dark side of his mind that he was forever trying to silence, told him to run. To leave the little brat behind and haul his ass out of there. The boy wasn't his problem anymore and even if he did go after him, he probably wouldn't be able to save him anyway. It was a lost cause and James wouldn't go near that Lair, not for anything.

His heart and his head argued back and forth and eventually, one of them won. James ran. He turned and bolted up Simmons Street, then back onto Sagan Street. He sprinted in the direction of south Silent Hill, back towards the safety of Woodside Apartments.

I wouldn't have been able to save him anyway, James thought. Can't go down there, can't go down into the dark.

James ran even harder and faster, his footsteps echoing off the pavement. This time, it wasn't the horseman of the apocalypse he was trying to run away from, it was the screams of Toby Griffiths he could hear in his head. Screams for help as he was being dragged off into the dark. Screams that James wouldn't be able to forget for a long time.