{ fic: "heaven give me say" - part ii }
Title: Heaven Give Me Say
Chapter: Part II
Series: Young Justice / Silent Hill
Rating: R (violence, disturbing imagery)
Word Count: 5,104
Summary: In which the Young Justice team traverses the portals of reality and visits a small town called Silent Hill.
Note: Written for the yj_anon_meme . Loosely inspired by this prompt.
Part I. checking in
Heaven Give Me Say
II
(abandoned streets)
The tunnel is longer than he expected, and by the time he reaches the end of it, his knees are aching and his hands are scraped from the rough and jagged concrete. He clambers out of it rather ungracefully, stumbling as he drops out onto the ground below. Regaining his balance, Wally dusts himself off before taking in his surroundings.
For a moment, he’s disoriented enough that his vision swims in front of him. He shakes his head to clear it, counting to ten before opening his eyes again.
Nothing has changed. The alley is still there, overflowing trashcans and all. There’s no sign of the evergreen forest the lumber mill is supposed to be in, let alone the mill itself; instead, he’s surrounded by brick walls and what looks like the white marble of a church. A glance behind him doesn’t show the wooden structure of the mill, but the concrete facade of another building instead. The hole is still there, the glowing symbols appearing much fainter in the overcast daylight-
Daylight. Even though it had been nighttime just a few minutes ago.
Wally feels a shiver run up his spine despite himself.
The alley seems to be empty, void of any sort of ambush. Of course, they could be waiting out on the street, or they’ll strike from above once the entire team has arrived. Wally casts a cautious look above him, but all he sees are broken windows and the dark steeple of the church rising up against the cloudy sky. It doesn’t do much to reassure him - the utter silence around him is too unnerving, too unnatural.
Wally looks at the hole again, frowning worriedly. The rest of them is taking too long. Artemis had entered the tunnel only a few moments after him, and Robin after her. Surely they should be here by now-
All at once, the clanging of church bells fills the air. Wally lets out a shout of alarm that he hurriedly muffles with a hand, even as the ringing reverberates through his head. It’s deafening, insistent - but the bells die away soon enough, and the stillness returns as if it had never been interrupted.
He mentally curses himself for being so jumpy - Robin must’ve given him those heebie-jeebies with that damn speech of his. Even so, something about the situation is off, and as much as Wally doesn’t want to admit it, he doesn’t think it has much to do with science.
That thought makes him laugh, albeit nervously. C’mon, don’t be stupid, you’ll psyche yourself out.
The minutes pass by at an agonizingly slow pace, and after Wally checks his communicator for the seventh time - still no signal, no reception, even though the League headquarters provides unlimited and constant service - he decides he’d better start moving. There’s no use staying here like a sitting duck, and it’d be stupid to have come all this way and not continue the investigation. He’s sure the others will catch up once they get here.
“That is, if they didn’t chicken out,” he mutters. The more he thinks about it, the more likely that seems. With a last look at the hole, he heads to the mouth of the alley, stepping over piles of trash and overturned garbage cans as he goes.
The street is just as empty, save for the thick fog settling over it. There isn’t a car or person in sight, and judging from the dirty store windows across from him, there hasn’t been anyone here for quite a while. Shaking his head - because that’s a stupid thought, really, considering someone had to have been ringing those bells - Wally looks left and right, seeing nothing but fog. It’s becoming denser by the second, and in a few more minutes he’s not going to be able to see his hand in front of his face.
He’s emerged next to the church - a Catholic one, from the looks of it. Most of the windows are broken, even the stained glass ones, and those that are not are cracked or at the very least dirtied. For whatever reason, staring at it is making him nervous, and it’s all he can do to stop himself from dashing off right away.
On impulse, he goes right, heading towards the corner. Once again, he has to forcefully remind himself to take it slow. The desire to run through the streets to find the gangsters they came here for is nearly overpowering, and as much as he wants to give into that temptation, he’s more concerned with figuring out where he is first.
A look to the right shows a few storefronts, as well as what looks like a Shell gas station down at the end of the block. Across the street to the left shows pretty much the same. One of the storefronts says CUT-RITE CHAIN SAWS in large white letters above its shattered display window. Wally will be damned if that doesn’t creep him out a little bit - which is stupid, because it’s just a store, like the church is just a church, and he’s an idiot if he’s going to let himself get spooked by whatever trick this is.
Grumbling to himself, he decides to go straight, continuing along what appears to be Bachman Road, according to the street sign. It’s getting darker again, though he figures that’s mostly due to the fog. The stores lining both sides of the street are becoming nothing more than vague shapes. The only sounds he can hear are his footsteps, and even those seem obscenely loud to him, echoing in his ears. The air feels unnaturally damp and chilly for this time of year, but despite that, it isn’t long before snow begins to fall gently down through the fog surrounding him. As he reaches the next street - MATHESON STREET, reads the crooked sign - he’s about to resort to calling out for anyone who might be around, even if it’s the bad guys.
Before he can do so, however, he hears something. It sounds like it’s coming from the left, and he pauses, holding himself still as he listens intently. It’s a scraping noise, as if something heavy is being dragged across the pavement. At the same time he hears it, a burst of static erupts from his communicator.
As he watches, a large figure forms amidst the rolling fog. At least, it appears large at first, but as the silhouette becomes more substantial, Wally can make out that most of the volume is made up by a pair of massive arms. It is these that are being dragged along the ground, for the rest of its torso is disproportionately lithe and apparently unable to support the weight of its own bulky limbs. It doesn’t seem to have a head.
The creature - and he has to call it that because there’s no other word for it, really - comes to a stop still some distance away from him. Wally remains frozen, openly gaping at it. Its skin is fleshy, caked with a layer of grime and blood. The majority of the latter covers its forearms, which are torn and raw from being dragged. It has no visible eyes, and yet, he still feels as if it’s staring at him.
And it does nothing more than that. He loses track of the minutes that pass as the creature continues to watch him. It makes no move to attack or run. It simply stands there. Watching. And he stares back, valiantly struggling to even comprehend what he’s looking at, because there’s something off and wrong and terrifyingly familiar about this thing-
Suddenly, the sound of shattering glass comes from up the street, followed by a chorus of barking and growling - along with an enraged voice he recognizes instantly. Wally’s head whips in that direction, and he takes several steps towards the commotion on reflex, calling out Superboy’s name as he does so. If Superboy’s here, the others can’t be far, and while he doesn’t understand how they could’ve gotten ahead without passing him, he could care less, because at least he isn’t alone now-
By the time he remembers the creature and looks back, it’s disappeared into the fog once more, leaving behind only the sound of its arms scraping along the pavement.
--
(missionary ethics)
This time, Wally doesn’t think twice about taking it slow. He dashes up the street towards the racket of shouting and animalistic snarling, going as fast as he dares while being unable to see much in the dense fog. Any uneasiness that had formed since he’d come out of the hole has been replaced by sheer relief. Superboy and the rest of the team are here, even if they were separated somehow - it doesn’t matter, because whatever this is, they’ll get through it together-
All at once, the sounds of fighting cease, ending with a pained yelp that rings out through the fog. Wally hits the breaks a second too late, because abruptly there’s something other than asphalt beneath his feet, and he’s tripping and crashing headfirst into what feels like a brick wall. The impact sends him sprawling to the ground, and for a moment, he’s dizzy enough that he just lies there. Once his vision reorients itself, he carefully props himself on his elbows and looks up.
Sure enough, Superboy is standing there in front of him. The clone’s arms are crossed over his broad chest, and his eyes are narrowed dangerously. Wally manages a weak smile in return.
“Uh, sorry,” he offers. “Didn’t see you there.”
Superboy grunts in response. Shaking his head to clear it, Wally pushes himself to his feet. While he would’ve preferred to run into one of the more talkative members of the team, Superboy’s better than nothing. Though the fact that Superboy’s alone, too, isn’t very promising. Wally bites his lip, meanwhile glancing down to see exactly what he’d tripped over. As he does so, a ripple of trepidation runs through him, displacing whatever reassuring calm had settled there.
Bodies litter the ground around the two of them. Wally supposes he should be grateful that none of them are human, which he’d expected, given the noises that had drawn him here. That being said, he can’t exactly call these dogs. They’re canine in shape, but only vaguely. All of them are grotesquely emaciated and hairless, their bones jutting out from their rotting brown skin. Their jaws are elongated and hanging open, blood seeping from between the jagged fangs - and judging from the bite marks on Superboy’s arms, not all of it is theirs. And that’s concerning in and of itself, because while the bites are shallow and the dogs must have been strong enough to rip a normal human limb from limb, they still managed to pierce Superboy’s skin. Wally can count the things capable of doing that on one hand.
“I don’t suppose they looked better before you killed them, did they?” he says lightly, trying to drown the growing apprehension he feels with an attempt at humor. He prods one of the dog corpses with the toe of his boot, half-expecting it to still be alive despite the fact that its skull has been bashed in.
Like many things, the joke goes over Superboy’s head. “No,” he answers with a frown. “All I did was hit them.”
“Yeah, I can see that,” Wally says, examining another dog. This one’s ribcage is crushed, and some of the ribs have even pierced through the ragged skin of its chest. He makes a face and turns away. “So, what- the gang sic’d them on you or something? I didn’t think they’d have attack dogs, that seems a little high-class for people cooking up drugs in an abandoned shack.”
If anything, Superboy’s frown deepens, clearly from confusion. “No one was there. I was walking down the street, and they attacked me.”
It’s Wally’s turn to frown now. “Why would they just attack you if you hadn’t attacked first?” he asks. “Stray dogs are usually afraid of people, seeing someone like you should’ve sent them running.”
Superboy shrugs, uncrossing his arms and looking at the healing bites scattered over them. “I think they were hungry,” he says simply.
Wally’s frown deepens, but he doesn’t press the issue. For whatever reason, the explanation doesn’t sit well with him, because he’s certain that something must have propelled the dogs to attack. More concerning is the idea that there could be others out there, hiding in the fog, circling them, hunting them - along with that thing he’d seen earlier. His teeth digging into his lip again, Wally’s about to suggest that they keep moving, try to find the rest of the team, or at the very least find somewhere safe to set up a regrouping point.
It’s then that M’gann’s voice rings through his head.
(Hello? Hello, can anyone hear me?! Please, please, anyone - Aqualad? Artemis? ANYONE, PLEASE-!)
Wally breathes out a sigh of relief, and the way Conner relaxes marginally shows that he feels the same. The fear in the Martian’s mental voice is palpable, though, and Wally finds himself responding with the same urgency.
(It’s Kid Flash, Miss M. I’m with Superboy, where are-?)
(Don’t move! I’ll find you, just- please, stay where you are!)
Superboy answers this time, brow creased with worry. (We will. Hurry.)
It doesn’t take long for her to arrive. She descends through the fog some feet away from them, taking care to avoid the remains of the dogs as she lands. The two of them go to her side simultaneously, though it’s Superboy she embraces. Wally watches as she buries her face in his chest, sobbing erratically, and even though his jealousy is burning through him and making his face flush, he can’t help but think that he wouldn’t know what to do if she were clutching him like that instead. Granted, Superboy doesn’t look like he knows what he’s doing, either, but when he cautiously wraps an arm around her, that seems to be enough.
After a minute or two, she pulls back, swiping furiously at the tears streaming from her eyes. “I’m sorry, it’s just- the evil in this town, we shouldn’t be here-,”
“Where exactly is here?” Wally interrupts, trying to ignore his ever-growing sense of dread.
M’gann hesitates, looking between the two of them with large, frightened eyes. When she speaks, her voice is barely audible.
“Silent Hill,” she whispers. “We’re in Silent Hill.”
--
(admitting fear)
There’s a diner just up the street, and the door is unlocked when they try it. Surprisingly, the electricity works when Wally experimentally flips on the main switch. The lights are dim, and many of them are flickering weakly, but it’s better than nothing. Even in the artificial gloom, it’s obvious this diner was never a five-star establishment. The tiles are dirty with a build-up of dust and filth, as are most of the other surfaces. Many of the seat cushions are ripped, aged yellow foam seeping from between the ragged edges of vinyl. An archaic pinball machine sits in one of the corners; the words MEDIEVAL MADNESS flash half-heartedly, many of the letters suffering from burnt-out bulbs. There are several posters on the walls, one for a band Wally’s never heard of, and two others of a bearded man holding a gun with the words STUDY, DAMMIT!! at the bottom, both flanking the pinball machine.
M’gann sits down in one of the booth seats situated against the wide front window. Superboy sits next to her, while Wally remains standing, watching as the girl leans forward and hides her face in her hands once more, apparently trying to regain some of her composure. They let her stay like that for several minutes, but eventually Wally’s impatience gets the best of him.
“How do you know what this place is, M’gann?” he asks. He hopes none of the suspicion he feels works its way into his voice, but if there’s ever been a time he’s been skeptical of her “sensing” ability, it’s now.
“Easy - I’ve seen signs all over with that name on them,” she answers, the corner of her mouth quirking upwards. While it’s not much and it falters a moment later, it’s still something, because it’s the first time she’s shown any emotion other than fear since he’d stood with his arm around her outside the mill.
“Believe me, I wish it were that simple,” M’gann says with a sigh. She stops to organize her thoughts before continuing. “When I came out of that hole, I was in a grocery store - it’s a couple of streets south from where we are now, I think. I couldn’t understand how I’d gotten there, and then I couldn’t find any of you, so I tried to locate your energies, but I... I connected to this town’s energy instead.”
Superboy shifts uneasily beside her. He’s never been comfortable with her psychic abilities (for much different reasons than Wally), but he’s making an effort nonetheless. “What happened?”
M’gann tries to start several times, but she’s clearly struggling with how to describe this to them. Eventually, she settles on rolling up the sleeves of her stealth suit, and Wally watches nervously as she holds out her bare hands to them. Her skin, normally a peculiar shade of lime, appears muted and olive in the diner’s lighting.
“I can’t explain it,” she says, “but I can show you. If you want me to, of course.”
Wally glances at Superboy, finding that the other is staring at him with that same wary look in his eyes. M’gann’s hands remain extended towards them eagerly, and against his better judgment, Wally lets out a sigh and strips off one of his own gloves, taking a seat in the chair across from her. As one, he and Conner grasp M’gann’s hands, and as he does so, all he can think is that he wishes Robin was here right now, because he’d have a better way of figuring out what’s going on without resorting to freaky alien mind tricks-
And then he’s plunged into chaos.
Darkness overwhelms him, obscuring the diner and his friends. The feeling of M’gann’s hand clasped in his disappears, replaced by a drowning sensation, as if some great and powerful and cruel force is smothering him. The blackness is impenetrable, a tangible malevolence. It exudes pressure on him from all sides, crushing him, and when he tries to scream the noise is sucked into the emptiness that is this void.
Except this void is anything but empty. Demonic manifestations surround him, laboring and wriggling and scuttling through their tortured existences. A ship vanishes from the midst of a lake, and it is a sign that the seal has finally been broken. Fire greedily devours a stairwell and he can feel it blazing against his face. A man lies on the floor, his throat torn open and a spoon bathed in blood clutched stiffly in his fist.
(-in my restless dreams i see that town silent hill needed somebody to punish me for my sins you will birth a god and build an eternal paradise my justice for you the town is being devoured by darkness there was a HOLE here it’s gone now God loves even you through the ritual of the holy Assumption he built a world have you seen a little girl into the fire she swallowed their hate MY DAUGHTER WILL BE THE MOTHER OF GOD-)
Fat white bugs burst from molded spots in the walls and pour forth in a flood, falling over each other helplessly in the wake of this involuntary stampede. A hospital room is consumed by flames, and the girl lying in the bed screams in agony. Dead men hang from the ceiling, imprisoned in cages, while others are electrocuted or simply ripped to shreds. A creature dressed in scraps of human flesh, lurking between the rungs of a ladder, waiting, waiting, and the Executioner is ever-present, stalking the streets and the corridors and the very depths of hell, haunted by the constant scraaaape scraaaaaaaaaape CLANG-
(-it is a small town and it has known the greatest evils of this realm and those beyond it. It is Heaven and it is Hell and it is the Birthplace of God. Thus it has been and thus it always will be. Too long has it watched as servants of the Mother attempt to raise her for the purification of this world. Too long has it watched as those servants have failed - as the unbelievers, the faithless, the enemies of God have interfered and caused the Mother suffering. No more. Heaven shall not rely on unworthy hands. For redemption is the will of God and She will be denied no longer-)
The ritual is complete and God the Holy Mother descends, and she is terrifying and she is beautiful and she has come to purge the sins from this world with cleansing fire-
(-FOR IT IS THE WILL OF GOD.)
With a choked shout, Wally jerks backwards, tearing his hand out of M’gann’s grasp. The connection breaks instantly, but there’s a paralyzing moment when he opens his eyes and sees nothing but rust and chains and grates and blood, so much blood-
But then his vision clears, the diner reforming before him. Superboy is leaning back against the seat, clutching at his forehead as if to ward off a strong headache. Sweat stands out starkly on M’gann’s skin, dripping down the sides of her face. She’s panting, staring unseeingly at the table between them, back rigid and shoulders hunched. For a second, he’s worried that she’s stuck in the trance, but then she blinks and her eyes refocus.
She meets his gaze. No words are necessary to convey what they’re feeling, but Wally speaks regardless.
“Scared?” he asks; his voice is hoarse and he wonders if he’d been more successful at screaming than he’d first thought.
M’gann nods, glancing to the side. “Very,” she says quietly, and then her eyes flicker back up to his. “Are you?”
He hesitates, but in the end, he decides he’s sick of lying to himself. There isn’t any point in pretending otherwise, not now, not after that.
“Yeah,” he says with a heavy sigh. “Yeah, I really am.”
Superboy lowers his hand, and while his expression doesn’t look upset in the slightest, Wally can tell just from his posture alone that he’s extremely unnerved. “What now?” he mutters, casting a cautious look around them. The diner hasn’t changed from what Wally can see, but it’s good to know he’s not the only one who feels like it has. It’s as if they’ve discovered some dark secret of the town-
And the town knows it, he thinks before he can help himself. He immediately regrets it when he feels the fine hairs on the back of his neck rise, a chill washing over him. He shivers involuntarily.
“I’m not sure,” the Martian answers, shrugging helplessly. “I was only able to find the two of you because I was lucky. If you hadn’t responded when you did, I would’ve flown right by without any clue you were there. I don’t know how we can possibly find the others.”
Conner stands up without warning, walking towards the back of the diner. Wally frowns but doesn’t question him - he’s used to the clone’s sometimes unpredictable behavior by now. Instead, he turns back to M’gann. “But the three of us were pretty close, right? They can’t be far.”
“Hopefully,” she says, but she looks doubtful. “Where did Superboy come from?”
“A secret laboratory hidden deep underground, why?” Wally says in as serious a tone as he can, receiving a playful slap on the arm for his efforts. Grinning (and halfway amazed that they can even manage to joke around right now), he calls to Superboy over his shoulder, meanwhile tugging his glove back on. “Hey, Supey - where’d the rabbit hole take you?”
Conner doesn’t answer right away, and Wally wonders if he went to find a bathroom or something, but then he hears the familiar heavy footsteps coming back to them. A creased, aged piece of paper - a brochure, he thinks - is placed on the table, and Superboy points to spot near the bottom of the page. “There,” he says simply.
It takes Wally a second to realize he’s staring at a map of the town. Both he and M’gann lean forward to get a better look, which is easier said than done considering how faded it is. From what he can tell, the town is situated around the shores of a lake, and it’s comprised of four districts. He recognizes the street names BLOCH ST., MATHESON ST., and BACHMAN RD., as well as CAFE 5TO2, the name of the diner they’re in right now. CUT RITE CHAIN SAWS is there, too. That places them in the district labeled ‘Old Silent Hill’. There are bridges to the east, connecting it to ‘Central Silent Hill’, and the district of ‘South Park’ beneath that.
The district Superboy is pointing at is called Southvale; it runs along the corresponding border of the lake, connected to the rest of the town by a winding lakeside drive. When Wally gets him to move his finger, he sees that Conner was pointing specifically at a building located near the edge of the lake, at the end of a path shaped like a wishbone. It’s labeled WISH HOUSE ORPHANAGE, and dammit if that isn’t the slightest bit ironic.
“Damn, dude,” Wally says, glancing up at Superboy. “That’s gotta be at least fifteen miles away. How’d you get up here so fast?”
Conner’s brow furrows. “I jumped.”
Before Wally can comment on that, M’gann speaks up. “Look at this.” She taps the center of the map, right in the middle of the lake.
At first he doesn’t see what he’s supposed to be looking for, but as he reads the name of the lake, it clicks. Toluca Lake, Toluca Mill. “So it is connected to this place,” he muses, “Just- not the way we thought.”
“Exactly, and it probably wasn’t included on this map because it’s- well, abandoned,” M’gann says, but then she sighs and leans back against the seat. “I’m just not sure how we’re going to find them. That hole... It wasn’t meant for us. That’s why we were separated - it’s only for one person to use.”
Wally is quite sure he doesn’t want to know how she figured all of that out. “So you’re saying they could be anywhere?” he asks instead, trying not to sound too frantic. Judging from the map, the town is pretty big. There’s hundreds of buildings, thousands of hiding places. It’ll take days to search the entire place, and for whatever reason, Wally doesn’t think they’ll have that long.
M’gann only nods morosely. Superboy, however, lets out a furious yell and smashes his fist into the wall - literally. He stands like that for a few seconds before pulling it out. Shaking the debris from his hand, he returns to his spot next to M’gann, breathing heavily. She touches his arm gently, and he seems to relax somewhat.
“Great,” Wally grumbles, “So, what are we supposed to-?”
The window to their left suddenly explodes inward as a dark shape crashes through it. Glass flies everywhere, and they throw themselves to the ground, Superboy shielding M’gann and Wally with his arms over his head. A piercing shriek fills the diner, along with the sound of flapping wings, and Wally feels a powerful gust of wind churn the dust-ridden air around them. Static flares from their communicators.
Wally’s on his feet quickly, heart beating wildly in his chest as he stares at the creature hovering across from him. He thinks it’s a giant bat, but something about it is almost prehistoric - the way its nose looks more like a beak than a snout, the absence of fur anywhere on its body. Its skin is similar to that of the dogs, but leathery and lacking the coat of grime. Vicious talons adorn the joints of its wings, as well as its scaly feet. As he stares, it lets out another ear-splitting cry; the glass cover of the pinball machine shatters, along with its remaining lightbulbs.
It lunges towards him clumsily, which he dodges, albeit not as quickly as usual. Shock has made him slow, brain struggling to catch up with a body that wants to flee. Fortunately, the beast is having trouble maneuvering in such a small space, turning over itself awkwardly in order to face him. It shrieks again - this time half of the fluorescent lights overhead burst, raining glass down upon them. The strange beak parts to reveal several rows of crooked fangs, and then it’s diving once more, and Wally belatedly realizes that it’s backed him into a corner-
But then Superboy is there, wrapping his hand around one of its ankles. The creature struggles, wings beating furiously as it tries to claw at him in vain. Superboy’s other fist smashes into the back of its head, sending it tumbling. A second later, a chair flies at it of its own accord, a green glow surrounding the metal frame. It strikes the bat’s wing, staggering it, and then another volley of chairs knocks it to the ground.
Superboy is on it immediately, pummeling it with fists of steel. The sound of splintering and snapping bones is clearly audible, even over Superboy’s grunting. The creature squawks with agony, its talons scrabbling over the tiles for purchase, but it falls still and silent soon enough.
For a minute, no one moves, and then Conner gets to his feet, wiping blood from his knuckles off on his pants like an afterthought. Wally’s relieved to see that it isn’t his when he moves forward, broken glass crunching beneath his feet. M’gann’s standing in the adjacent corner, raised hands still glowing faintly. She looks shaken but otherwise unhurt, and after a moment she comes over, too.
The three stare at each other, the tense silence ending when Wally lets out a tired sigh, running a hand through his hair.
“So, as I was saying before we were interrupted,” he says, trying and failing miserably at sounding lighthearted, “what now?”
Surprisingly, it’s Conner who answers. The clone carefully makes his way back to the table they’d been sitting at, and after a moment of searching, he retrieves the brochure of Silent Hill from under an overturned chair. He offers it to them, his expression resigned.
“We start looking.”
Chapter: Part II
Series: Young Justice / Silent Hill
Rating: R (violence, disturbing imagery)
Word Count: 5,104
Summary: In which the Young Justice team traverses the portals of reality and visits a small town called Silent Hill.
Note: Written for the yj_anon_meme . Loosely inspired by this prompt.
Part I. checking in
Heaven Give Me Say
II
(abandoned streets)
The tunnel is longer than he expected, and by the time he reaches the end of it, his knees are aching and his hands are scraped from the rough and jagged concrete. He clambers out of it rather ungracefully, stumbling as he drops out onto the ground below. Regaining his balance, Wally dusts himself off before taking in his surroundings.
For a moment, he’s disoriented enough that his vision swims in front of him. He shakes his head to clear it, counting to ten before opening his eyes again.
Nothing has changed. The alley is still there, overflowing trashcans and all. There’s no sign of the evergreen forest the lumber mill is supposed to be in, let alone the mill itself; instead, he’s surrounded by brick walls and what looks like the white marble of a church. A glance behind him doesn’t show the wooden structure of the mill, but the concrete facade of another building instead. The hole is still there, the glowing symbols appearing much fainter in the overcast daylight-
Daylight. Even though it had been nighttime just a few minutes ago.
Wally feels a shiver run up his spine despite himself.
The alley seems to be empty, void of any sort of ambush. Of course, they could be waiting out on the street, or they’ll strike from above once the entire team has arrived. Wally casts a cautious look above him, but all he sees are broken windows and the dark steeple of the church rising up against the cloudy sky. It doesn’t do much to reassure him - the utter silence around him is too unnerving, too unnatural.
Wally looks at the hole again, frowning worriedly. The rest of them is taking too long. Artemis had entered the tunnel only a few moments after him, and Robin after her. Surely they should be here by now-
All at once, the clanging of church bells fills the air. Wally lets out a shout of alarm that he hurriedly muffles with a hand, even as the ringing reverberates through his head. It’s deafening, insistent - but the bells die away soon enough, and the stillness returns as if it had never been interrupted.
He mentally curses himself for being so jumpy - Robin must’ve given him those heebie-jeebies with that damn speech of his. Even so, something about the situation is off, and as much as Wally doesn’t want to admit it, he doesn’t think it has much to do with science.
That thought makes him laugh, albeit nervously. C’mon, don’t be stupid, you’ll psyche yourself out.
The minutes pass by at an agonizingly slow pace, and after Wally checks his communicator for the seventh time - still no signal, no reception, even though the League headquarters provides unlimited and constant service - he decides he’d better start moving. There’s no use staying here like a sitting duck, and it’d be stupid to have come all this way and not continue the investigation. He’s sure the others will catch up once they get here.
“That is, if they didn’t chicken out,” he mutters. The more he thinks about it, the more likely that seems. With a last look at the hole, he heads to the mouth of the alley, stepping over piles of trash and overturned garbage cans as he goes.
The street is just as empty, save for the thick fog settling over it. There isn’t a car or person in sight, and judging from the dirty store windows across from him, there hasn’t been anyone here for quite a while. Shaking his head - because that’s a stupid thought, really, considering someone had to have been ringing those bells - Wally looks left and right, seeing nothing but fog. It’s becoming denser by the second, and in a few more minutes he’s not going to be able to see his hand in front of his face.
He’s emerged next to the church - a Catholic one, from the looks of it. Most of the windows are broken, even the stained glass ones, and those that are not are cracked or at the very least dirtied. For whatever reason, staring at it is making him nervous, and it’s all he can do to stop himself from dashing off right away.
On impulse, he goes right, heading towards the corner. Once again, he has to forcefully remind himself to take it slow. The desire to run through the streets to find the gangsters they came here for is nearly overpowering, and as much as he wants to give into that temptation, he’s more concerned with figuring out where he is first.
A look to the right shows a few storefronts, as well as what looks like a Shell gas station down at the end of the block. Across the street to the left shows pretty much the same. One of the storefronts says CUT-RITE CHAIN SAWS in large white letters above its shattered display window. Wally will be damned if that doesn’t creep him out a little bit - which is stupid, because it’s just a store, like the church is just a church, and he’s an idiot if he’s going to let himself get spooked by whatever trick this is.
Grumbling to himself, he decides to go straight, continuing along what appears to be Bachman Road, according to the street sign. It’s getting darker again, though he figures that’s mostly due to the fog. The stores lining both sides of the street are becoming nothing more than vague shapes. The only sounds he can hear are his footsteps, and even those seem obscenely loud to him, echoing in his ears. The air feels unnaturally damp and chilly for this time of year, but despite that, it isn’t long before snow begins to fall gently down through the fog surrounding him. As he reaches the next street - MATHESON STREET, reads the crooked sign - he’s about to resort to calling out for anyone who might be around, even if it’s the bad guys.
Before he can do so, however, he hears something. It sounds like it’s coming from the left, and he pauses, holding himself still as he listens intently. It’s a scraping noise, as if something heavy is being dragged across the pavement. At the same time he hears it, a burst of static erupts from his communicator.
As he watches, a large figure forms amidst the rolling fog. At least, it appears large at first, but as the silhouette becomes more substantial, Wally can make out that most of the volume is made up by a pair of massive arms. It is these that are being dragged along the ground, for the rest of its torso is disproportionately lithe and apparently unable to support the weight of its own bulky limbs. It doesn’t seem to have a head.
The creature - and he has to call it that because there’s no other word for it, really - comes to a stop still some distance away from him. Wally remains frozen, openly gaping at it. Its skin is fleshy, caked with a layer of grime and blood. The majority of the latter covers its forearms, which are torn and raw from being dragged. It has no visible eyes, and yet, he still feels as if it’s staring at him.
And it does nothing more than that. He loses track of the minutes that pass as the creature continues to watch him. It makes no move to attack or run. It simply stands there. Watching. And he stares back, valiantly struggling to even comprehend what he’s looking at, because there’s something off and wrong and terrifyingly familiar about this thing-
Suddenly, the sound of shattering glass comes from up the street, followed by a chorus of barking and growling - along with an enraged voice he recognizes instantly. Wally’s head whips in that direction, and he takes several steps towards the commotion on reflex, calling out Superboy’s name as he does so. If Superboy’s here, the others can’t be far, and while he doesn’t understand how they could’ve gotten ahead without passing him, he could care less, because at least he isn’t alone now-
By the time he remembers the creature and looks back, it’s disappeared into the fog once more, leaving behind only the sound of its arms scraping along the pavement.
--
(missionary ethics)
This time, Wally doesn’t think twice about taking it slow. He dashes up the street towards the racket of shouting and animalistic snarling, going as fast as he dares while being unable to see much in the dense fog. Any uneasiness that had formed since he’d come out of the hole has been replaced by sheer relief. Superboy and the rest of the team are here, even if they were separated somehow - it doesn’t matter, because whatever this is, they’ll get through it together-
All at once, the sounds of fighting cease, ending with a pained yelp that rings out through the fog. Wally hits the breaks a second too late, because abruptly there’s something other than asphalt beneath his feet, and he’s tripping and crashing headfirst into what feels like a brick wall. The impact sends him sprawling to the ground, and for a moment, he’s dizzy enough that he just lies there. Once his vision reorients itself, he carefully props himself on his elbows and looks up.
Sure enough, Superboy is standing there in front of him. The clone’s arms are crossed over his broad chest, and his eyes are narrowed dangerously. Wally manages a weak smile in return.
“Uh, sorry,” he offers. “Didn’t see you there.”
Superboy grunts in response. Shaking his head to clear it, Wally pushes himself to his feet. While he would’ve preferred to run into one of the more talkative members of the team, Superboy’s better than nothing. Though the fact that Superboy’s alone, too, isn’t very promising. Wally bites his lip, meanwhile glancing down to see exactly what he’d tripped over. As he does so, a ripple of trepidation runs through him, displacing whatever reassuring calm had settled there.
Bodies litter the ground around the two of them. Wally supposes he should be grateful that none of them are human, which he’d expected, given the noises that had drawn him here. That being said, he can’t exactly call these dogs. They’re canine in shape, but only vaguely. All of them are grotesquely emaciated and hairless, their bones jutting out from their rotting brown skin. Their jaws are elongated and hanging open, blood seeping from between the jagged fangs - and judging from the bite marks on Superboy’s arms, not all of it is theirs. And that’s concerning in and of itself, because while the bites are shallow and the dogs must have been strong enough to rip a normal human limb from limb, they still managed to pierce Superboy’s skin. Wally can count the things capable of doing that on one hand.
“I don’t suppose they looked better before you killed them, did they?” he says lightly, trying to drown the growing apprehension he feels with an attempt at humor. He prods one of the dog corpses with the toe of his boot, half-expecting it to still be alive despite the fact that its skull has been bashed in.
Like many things, the joke goes over Superboy’s head. “No,” he answers with a frown. “All I did was hit them.”
“Yeah, I can see that,” Wally says, examining another dog. This one’s ribcage is crushed, and some of the ribs have even pierced through the ragged skin of its chest. He makes a face and turns away. “So, what- the gang sic’d them on you or something? I didn’t think they’d have attack dogs, that seems a little high-class for people cooking up drugs in an abandoned shack.”
If anything, Superboy’s frown deepens, clearly from confusion. “No one was there. I was walking down the street, and they attacked me.”
It’s Wally’s turn to frown now. “Why would they just attack you if you hadn’t attacked first?” he asks. “Stray dogs are usually afraid of people, seeing someone like you should’ve sent them running.”
Superboy shrugs, uncrossing his arms and looking at the healing bites scattered over them. “I think they were hungry,” he says simply.
Wally’s frown deepens, but he doesn’t press the issue. For whatever reason, the explanation doesn’t sit well with him, because he’s certain that something must have propelled the dogs to attack. More concerning is the idea that there could be others out there, hiding in the fog, circling them, hunting them - along with that thing he’d seen earlier. His teeth digging into his lip again, Wally’s about to suggest that they keep moving, try to find the rest of the team, or at the very least find somewhere safe to set up a regrouping point.
It’s then that M’gann’s voice rings through his head.
(Hello? Hello, can anyone hear me?! Please, please, anyone - Aqualad? Artemis? ANYONE, PLEASE-!)
Wally breathes out a sigh of relief, and the way Conner relaxes marginally shows that he feels the same. The fear in the Martian’s mental voice is palpable, though, and Wally finds himself responding with the same urgency.
(It’s Kid Flash, Miss M. I’m with Superboy, where are-?)
(Don’t move! I’ll find you, just- please, stay where you are!)
Superboy answers this time, brow creased with worry. (We will. Hurry.)
It doesn’t take long for her to arrive. She descends through the fog some feet away from them, taking care to avoid the remains of the dogs as she lands. The two of them go to her side simultaneously, though it’s Superboy she embraces. Wally watches as she buries her face in his chest, sobbing erratically, and even though his jealousy is burning through him and making his face flush, he can’t help but think that he wouldn’t know what to do if she were clutching him like that instead. Granted, Superboy doesn’t look like he knows what he’s doing, either, but when he cautiously wraps an arm around her, that seems to be enough.
After a minute or two, she pulls back, swiping furiously at the tears streaming from her eyes. “I’m sorry, it’s just- the evil in this town, we shouldn’t be here-,”
“Where exactly is here?” Wally interrupts, trying to ignore his ever-growing sense of dread.
M’gann hesitates, looking between the two of them with large, frightened eyes. When she speaks, her voice is barely audible.
“Silent Hill,” she whispers. “We’re in Silent Hill.”
--
(admitting fear)
There’s a diner just up the street, and the door is unlocked when they try it. Surprisingly, the electricity works when Wally experimentally flips on the main switch. The lights are dim, and many of them are flickering weakly, but it’s better than nothing. Even in the artificial gloom, it’s obvious this diner was never a five-star establishment. The tiles are dirty with a build-up of dust and filth, as are most of the other surfaces. Many of the seat cushions are ripped, aged yellow foam seeping from between the ragged edges of vinyl. An archaic pinball machine sits in one of the corners; the words MEDIEVAL MADNESS flash half-heartedly, many of the letters suffering from burnt-out bulbs. There are several posters on the walls, one for a band Wally’s never heard of, and two others of a bearded man holding a gun with the words STUDY, DAMMIT!! at the bottom, both flanking the pinball machine.
M’gann sits down in one of the booth seats situated against the wide front window. Superboy sits next to her, while Wally remains standing, watching as the girl leans forward and hides her face in her hands once more, apparently trying to regain some of her composure. They let her stay like that for several minutes, but eventually Wally’s impatience gets the best of him.
“How do you know what this place is, M’gann?” he asks. He hopes none of the suspicion he feels works its way into his voice, but if there’s ever been a time he’s been skeptical of her “sensing” ability, it’s now.
“Easy - I’ve seen signs all over with that name on them,” she answers, the corner of her mouth quirking upwards. While it’s not much and it falters a moment later, it’s still something, because it’s the first time she’s shown any emotion other than fear since he’d stood with his arm around her outside the mill.
“Believe me, I wish it were that simple,” M’gann says with a sigh. She stops to organize her thoughts before continuing. “When I came out of that hole, I was in a grocery store - it’s a couple of streets south from where we are now, I think. I couldn’t understand how I’d gotten there, and then I couldn’t find any of you, so I tried to locate your energies, but I... I connected to this town’s energy instead.”
Superboy shifts uneasily beside her. He’s never been comfortable with her psychic abilities (for much different reasons than Wally), but he’s making an effort nonetheless. “What happened?”
M’gann tries to start several times, but she’s clearly struggling with how to describe this to them. Eventually, she settles on rolling up the sleeves of her stealth suit, and Wally watches nervously as she holds out her bare hands to them. Her skin, normally a peculiar shade of lime, appears muted and olive in the diner’s lighting.
“I can’t explain it,” she says, “but I can show you. If you want me to, of course.”
Wally glances at Superboy, finding that the other is staring at him with that same wary look in his eyes. M’gann’s hands remain extended towards them eagerly, and against his better judgment, Wally lets out a sigh and strips off one of his own gloves, taking a seat in the chair across from her. As one, he and Conner grasp M’gann’s hands, and as he does so, all he can think is that he wishes Robin was here right now, because he’d have a better way of figuring out what’s going on without resorting to freaky alien mind tricks-
And then he’s plunged into chaos.
Darkness overwhelms him, obscuring the diner and his friends. The feeling of M’gann’s hand clasped in his disappears, replaced by a drowning sensation, as if some great and powerful and cruel force is smothering him. The blackness is impenetrable, a tangible malevolence. It exudes pressure on him from all sides, crushing him, and when he tries to scream the noise is sucked into the emptiness that is this void.
Except this void is anything but empty. Demonic manifestations surround him, laboring and wriggling and scuttling through their tortured existences. A ship vanishes from the midst of a lake, and it is a sign that the seal has finally been broken. Fire greedily devours a stairwell and he can feel it blazing against his face. A man lies on the floor, his throat torn open and a spoon bathed in blood clutched stiffly in his fist.
(-in my restless dreams i see that town silent hill needed somebody to punish me for my sins you will birth a god and build an eternal paradise my justice for you the town is being devoured by darkness there was a HOLE here it’s gone now God loves even you through the ritual of the holy Assumption he built a world have you seen a little girl into the fire she swallowed their hate MY DAUGHTER WILL BE THE MOTHER OF GOD-)
Fat white bugs burst from molded spots in the walls and pour forth in a flood, falling over each other helplessly in the wake of this involuntary stampede. A hospital room is consumed by flames, and the girl lying in the bed screams in agony. Dead men hang from the ceiling, imprisoned in cages, while others are electrocuted or simply ripped to shreds. A creature dressed in scraps of human flesh, lurking between the rungs of a ladder, waiting, waiting, and the Executioner is ever-present, stalking the streets and the corridors and the very depths of hell, haunted by the constant scraaaape scraaaaaaaaaape CLANG-
(-it is a small town and it has known the greatest evils of this realm and those beyond it. It is Heaven and it is Hell and it is the Birthplace of God. Thus it has been and thus it always will be. Too long has it watched as servants of the Mother attempt to raise her for the purification of this world. Too long has it watched as those servants have failed - as the unbelievers, the faithless, the enemies of God have interfered and caused the Mother suffering. No more. Heaven shall not rely on unworthy hands. For redemption is the will of God and She will be denied no longer-)
The ritual is complete and God the Holy Mother descends, and she is terrifying and she is beautiful and she has come to purge the sins from this world with cleansing fire-
(-FOR IT IS THE WILL OF GOD.)
With a choked shout, Wally jerks backwards, tearing his hand out of M’gann’s grasp. The connection breaks instantly, but there’s a paralyzing moment when he opens his eyes and sees nothing but rust and chains and grates and blood, so much blood-
But then his vision clears, the diner reforming before him. Superboy is leaning back against the seat, clutching at his forehead as if to ward off a strong headache. Sweat stands out starkly on M’gann’s skin, dripping down the sides of her face. She’s panting, staring unseeingly at the table between them, back rigid and shoulders hunched. For a second, he’s worried that she’s stuck in the trance, but then she blinks and her eyes refocus.
She meets his gaze. No words are necessary to convey what they’re feeling, but Wally speaks regardless.
“Scared?” he asks; his voice is hoarse and he wonders if he’d been more successful at screaming than he’d first thought.
M’gann nods, glancing to the side. “Very,” she says quietly, and then her eyes flicker back up to his. “Are you?”
He hesitates, but in the end, he decides he’s sick of lying to himself. There isn’t any point in pretending otherwise, not now, not after that.
“Yeah,” he says with a heavy sigh. “Yeah, I really am.”
Superboy lowers his hand, and while his expression doesn’t look upset in the slightest, Wally can tell just from his posture alone that he’s extremely unnerved. “What now?” he mutters, casting a cautious look around them. The diner hasn’t changed from what Wally can see, but it’s good to know he’s not the only one who feels like it has. It’s as if they’ve discovered some dark secret of the town-
And the town knows it, he thinks before he can help himself. He immediately regrets it when he feels the fine hairs on the back of his neck rise, a chill washing over him. He shivers involuntarily.
“I’m not sure,” the Martian answers, shrugging helplessly. “I was only able to find the two of you because I was lucky. If you hadn’t responded when you did, I would’ve flown right by without any clue you were there. I don’t know how we can possibly find the others.”
Conner stands up without warning, walking towards the back of the diner. Wally frowns but doesn’t question him - he’s used to the clone’s sometimes unpredictable behavior by now. Instead, he turns back to M’gann. “But the three of us were pretty close, right? They can’t be far.”
“Hopefully,” she says, but she looks doubtful. “Where did Superboy come from?”
“A secret laboratory hidden deep underground, why?” Wally says in as serious a tone as he can, receiving a playful slap on the arm for his efforts. Grinning (and halfway amazed that they can even manage to joke around right now), he calls to Superboy over his shoulder, meanwhile tugging his glove back on. “Hey, Supey - where’d the rabbit hole take you?”
Conner doesn’t answer right away, and Wally wonders if he went to find a bathroom or something, but then he hears the familiar heavy footsteps coming back to them. A creased, aged piece of paper - a brochure, he thinks - is placed on the table, and Superboy points to spot near the bottom of the page. “There,” he says simply.
It takes Wally a second to realize he’s staring at a map of the town. Both he and M’gann lean forward to get a better look, which is easier said than done considering how faded it is. From what he can tell, the town is situated around the shores of a lake, and it’s comprised of four districts. He recognizes the street names BLOCH ST., MATHESON ST., and BACHMAN RD., as well as CAFE 5TO2, the name of the diner they’re in right now. CUT RITE CHAIN SAWS is there, too. That places them in the district labeled ‘Old Silent Hill’. There are bridges to the east, connecting it to ‘Central Silent Hill’, and the district of ‘South Park’ beneath that.
The district Superboy is pointing at is called Southvale; it runs along the corresponding border of the lake, connected to the rest of the town by a winding lakeside drive. When Wally gets him to move his finger, he sees that Conner was pointing specifically at a building located near the edge of the lake, at the end of a path shaped like a wishbone. It’s labeled WISH HOUSE ORPHANAGE, and dammit if that isn’t the slightest bit ironic.
“Damn, dude,” Wally says, glancing up at Superboy. “That’s gotta be at least fifteen miles away. How’d you get up here so fast?”
Conner’s brow furrows. “I jumped.”
Before Wally can comment on that, M’gann speaks up. “Look at this.” She taps the center of the map, right in the middle of the lake.
At first he doesn’t see what he’s supposed to be looking for, but as he reads the name of the lake, it clicks. Toluca Lake, Toluca Mill. “So it is connected to this place,” he muses, “Just- not the way we thought.”
“Exactly, and it probably wasn’t included on this map because it’s- well, abandoned,” M’gann says, but then she sighs and leans back against the seat. “I’m just not sure how we’re going to find them. That hole... It wasn’t meant for us. That’s why we were separated - it’s only for one person to use.”
Wally is quite sure he doesn’t want to know how she figured all of that out. “So you’re saying they could be anywhere?” he asks instead, trying not to sound too frantic. Judging from the map, the town is pretty big. There’s hundreds of buildings, thousands of hiding places. It’ll take days to search the entire place, and for whatever reason, Wally doesn’t think they’ll have that long.
M’gann only nods morosely. Superboy, however, lets out a furious yell and smashes his fist into the wall - literally. He stands like that for a few seconds before pulling it out. Shaking the debris from his hand, he returns to his spot next to M’gann, breathing heavily. She touches his arm gently, and he seems to relax somewhat.
“Great,” Wally grumbles, “So, what are we supposed to-?”
The window to their left suddenly explodes inward as a dark shape crashes through it. Glass flies everywhere, and they throw themselves to the ground, Superboy shielding M’gann and Wally with his arms over his head. A piercing shriek fills the diner, along with the sound of flapping wings, and Wally feels a powerful gust of wind churn the dust-ridden air around them. Static flares from their communicators.
Wally’s on his feet quickly, heart beating wildly in his chest as he stares at the creature hovering across from him. He thinks it’s a giant bat, but something about it is almost prehistoric - the way its nose looks more like a beak than a snout, the absence of fur anywhere on its body. Its skin is similar to that of the dogs, but leathery and lacking the coat of grime. Vicious talons adorn the joints of its wings, as well as its scaly feet. As he stares, it lets out another ear-splitting cry; the glass cover of the pinball machine shatters, along with its remaining lightbulbs.
It lunges towards him clumsily, which he dodges, albeit not as quickly as usual. Shock has made him slow, brain struggling to catch up with a body that wants to flee. Fortunately, the beast is having trouble maneuvering in such a small space, turning over itself awkwardly in order to face him. It shrieks again - this time half of the fluorescent lights overhead burst, raining glass down upon them. The strange beak parts to reveal several rows of crooked fangs, and then it’s diving once more, and Wally belatedly realizes that it’s backed him into a corner-
But then Superboy is there, wrapping his hand around one of its ankles. The creature struggles, wings beating furiously as it tries to claw at him in vain. Superboy’s other fist smashes into the back of its head, sending it tumbling. A second later, a chair flies at it of its own accord, a green glow surrounding the metal frame. It strikes the bat’s wing, staggering it, and then another volley of chairs knocks it to the ground.
Superboy is on it immediately, pummeling it with fists of steel. The sound of splintering and snapping bones is clearly audible, even over Superboy’s grunting. The creature squawks with agony, its talons scrabbling over the tiles for purchase, but it falls still and silent soon enough.
For a minute, no one moves, and then Conner gets to his feet, wiping blood from his knuckles off on his pants like an afterthought. Wally’s relieved to see that it isn’t his when he moves forward, broken glass crunching beneath his feet. M’gann’s standing in the adjacent corner, raised hands still glowing faintly. She looks shaken but otherwise unhurt, and after a moment she comes over, too.
The three stare at each other, the tense silence ending when Wally lets out a tired sigh, running a hand through his hair.
“So, as I was saying before we were interrupted,” he says, trying and failing miserably at sounding lighthearted, “what now?”
Surprisingly, it’s Conner who answers. The clone carefully makes his way back to the table they’d been sitting at, and after a moment of searching, he retrieves the brochure of Silent Hill from under an overturned chair. He offers it to them, his expression resigned.
“We start looking.”