rosehiptea
in
sh_het
"Feathers" (Henry/Eileen fic)
A little vignette of Henry and Eileen in Forest World, for the prompt:
If Heaven and Hell decide/That they both are satisfied/Illuminate the NOs on their vacancy signs
If there's no one beside you/When your soul embarks/Then I'll follow you into the dark
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 1,357
A.N. I took some liberties with the size of Forest World and the number of twin monsters in it, and of course with the dialogue, since this doesn’t actually happen in the game.
Feathers
“Could this be… Silent Hill Woods?”
Henry shivered. Eileen had that tone in her voice again, like it was someone else’s voice. Walter Sullivan was doing something to her, and Henry didn’t even know why. What had Eileen ever done to him anyway? It was Henry who had moved into Apartment 302, though he still didn’t understand why that mattered either.
He took a deep breath, tried to remember what Eileen’s voice really sounded like. He spoke to people so seldom, though he could think of a few little things she had said to him.
“Oh, hello, Henry, how are you doing?”
What kind of answer had he even given her?
“Was my music too loud last night?”
Her music was never too loud… had he told her that though? Had he at least smiled?
”I just feel so scared...”
And he couldn’t help her; not enough.
“Henry… I can’t keep up…”
That was her real voice; he was certain. Henry slowed down. They could be killed if they went too slowly, but the truth was that he was tired too. Eileen hobbled beside him on her injured leg, Henry trying to reassure himself that it might somehow be possible to save both her and himself. The path was barely distinguishable from the grass in the darkness, and Henry had to look at the ground to keep from tripping, leading what was left of Eileen by her good hand.
He looked up when he heard a flutter of wings. One of the winged monsters with child faces stood before him, swiping at him with confusion in its four small eyes. Henry lifted the axe. It had been hard the first time, because they cried out like little children and their faces still looked childlike when he hit them and when they lay dead on the ground. He told himself that they weren’t really children, thought actually he didn’t know what the hell they were. In some way or another maybe they weren’t real at all. Aiming for the head, he managed to dodge the blows of the thing’s huge hands and finally it fell. Eileen stepped forward with the chain but Henry just kicked the monster until it stopped twitching.
“That’s what he did,” she said, in that sing-song tone again. “Killed them with an axe.”
Henry stared at her. She reached down and touched the faces of the monster. “Miriam and Billy. They barely fought; they were too little. And they had to be sacrificed. But now they’re still together.”
“Eileen… stop it!” said Henry desperately.
“He just kept hitting them and hitting them. There was blood everywhere, and hardly anything left of Miriam.”
Henry wanted to vomit. Eileen swished the chain through the air and he backed away, lifting the axe.
“Are you going to hit me, Henry?”
He shuddered. This wasn’t her real self; something sickening was happening. But if he hurt her, killed her, Eileen Galvin would really be dead. And even if he did it to save himself what would that make him? With the axe down at his side, he walked toward her.
“Eileen…” He tried to remember something, anything, that he could say to her.
“Do you remember that guy who used to stand on the corner near the subway entrance and play the guitar?” She looked confused now, and Henry continued. “I could see you from my window. You used to always give him money, every time you walked by on your way to work.”
Eileen nodded, and something haunted left the eye that Henry could still see. “I remember. He only knows two songs, and he doesn’t even find a busier place to stand.”
Henry nodded. “And one time I was standing by the mailbox and you talked to me. You said something about my photography magazines.”
“Yeah. You said something about the first camera you ever had.”
“You really remember that? The one I got for my birthday?”
He reached out and she took his hand. It was her voice now, and she winced when she tried to move her other arm. There was a fence behind them and he pulled her toward it. She sank to the ground and leaned against it.
“I have to rest,” she said, and closed her eyes.
They might die if they stopped, but they would probably die anyway. Henry sat next to her in the cold grass. “Just for a minute,” he warned.
Then they came, two more twin monsters near the body of the dead one, their baby faces staring away from each other. He was nearly too weak to lift the axe, and he began to shout.
“It wasn’t me; it wasn’t her! We didn’t hurt you! It was him.”
By now he wasn’t even sure who he was yelling at: long-dead children, Walter Sullivan, or himself. And now these things might kill him if he couldn’t keep fighting. But as he watched one of the monsters sank to the ground and crouched there with its eyes closed. The other began to groom it, running huge misshapen hands through the first one’s feathers. They did not attack, and Henry backed away to sit next to Eileen again. Gently, he put one arm around her, trying not to touch the numbers carved into her back.
“Maybe you really should kill me, Henry. Or just leave me here. It’s the same thing. And I’m probably dead anyway, aren’t I?”
He searched her bandaged face but he was certain this was really Eileen inviting him to abandon her.
“I’m not leaving you,” he said.
He thought to himself, “If you’re dead I’m probably dead too,” but he didn’t say it.
“Do you remember the time I saw you in the park, over in North Ashfield?” he asked. “I was taking pictures of the fountain.”
“I walked over to you and said “Hello,” and you introduced yourself, even said ‘From Apartment 302’ like maybe I didn’t know who you were,” she said.
He was surprised she still remembered all that. “Yeah. I wanted to ask if I could take a picture of you, there by the fountain, but it seemed too… personal to ask.” And now it was too late.
More twin monsters were approaching, but they only sat down by the first ones, until they were all huddled together like a giant deformed nest filled with feathers and faces, with the dead one in the middle. There was a bizarre hideous beauty to the sight, and Henry would have wanted to take a photograph except for the fact that he never wanted to see it again.
Reluctantly, he stood, and reached down to help Eileen up. She swayed on her feet and he put one hand on the small of her back to steady her. The ground was littered with brown feathers that they crushed into the grass as they walked. One of the monsters opened its luminous eyes to stare at them as they went past.
"Go to sleep..." he whispered to it, and he thought he might be going insane when it closed its eyes.
“When this is all over…” he said to Eileen.
“It’s never going to be all over.”
“Shhh… We’ll go to the park and take a walk in the sunlight.”
“We’re never getting out of here,” she said, and he could tell she was crying. Henry couldn’t think of anything to say, just kept walking and hoping she was still with him.
“There’s a little pond in the back,” she said eventually.
He knew; he had a picture.
“Sometimes there are ducks,” she added, in a strained voice that was still entirely hers.
“I never saw them,” he said. Even though the park was right there in town, he had only been there a few times.
“They come right up to you. I guess nobody hunts in Ashfield.”
Henry nodded. “You’ll show me,” he said.
He waited for her to argue that she wouldn’t live to do that, but she just shook her head. She turned back for a moment, facing the clutch of feathered monsters, then pulled on his hand. “Let’s keep going.”
If Heaven and Hell decide/That they both are satisfied/Illuminate the NOs on their vacancy signs
If there's no one beside you/When your soul embarks/Then I'll follow you into the dark
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 1,357
A.N. I took some liberties with the size of Forest World and the number of twin monsters in it, and of course with the dialogue, since this doesn’t actually happen in the game.
Feathers
“Could this be… Silent Hill Woods?”
Henry shivered. Eileen had that tone in her voice again, like it was someone else’s voice. Walter Sullivan was doing something to her, and Henry didn’t even know why. What had Eileen ever done to him anyway? It was Henry who had moved into Apartment 302, though he still didn’t understand why that mattered either.
He took a deep breath, tried to remember what Eileen’s voice really sounded like. He spoke to people so seldom, though he could think of a few little things she had said to him.
“Oh, hello, Henry, how are you doing?”
What kind of answer had he even given her?
“Was my music too loud last night?”
Her music was never too loud… had he told her that though? Had he at least smiled?
”I just feel so scared...”
And he couldn’t help her; not enough.
“Henry… I can’t keep up…”
That was her real voice; he was certain. Henry slowed down. They could be killed if they went too slowly, but the truth was that he was tired too. Eileen hobbled beside him on her injured leg, Henry trying to reassure himself that it might somehow be possible to save both her and himself. The path was barely distinguishable from the grass in the darkness, and Henry had to look at the ground to keep from tripping, leading what was left of Eileen by her good hand.
He looked up when he heard a flutter of wings. One of the winged monsters with child faces stood before him, swiping at him with confusion in its four small eyes. Henry lifted the axe. It had been hard the first time, because they cried out like little children and their faces still looked childlike when he hit them and when they lay dead on the ground. He told himself that they weren’t really children, thought actually he didn’t know what the hell they were. In some way or another maybe they weren’t real at all. Aiming for the head, he managed to dodge the blows of the thing’s huge hands and finally it fell. Eileen stepped forward with the chain but Henry just kicked the monster until it stopped twitching.
“That’s what he did,” she said, in that sing-song tone again. “Killed them with an axe.”
Henry stared at her. She reached down and touched the faces of the monster. “Miriam and Billy. They barely fought; they were too little. And they had to be sacrificed. But now they’re still together.”
“Eileen… stop it!” said Henry desperately.
“He just kept hitting them and hitting them. There was blood everywhere, and hardly anything left of Miriam.”
Henry wanted to vomit. Eileen swished the chain through the air and he backed away, lifting the axe.
“Are you going to hit me, Henry?”
He shuddered. This wasn’t her real self; something sickening was happening. But if he hurt her, killed her, Eileen Galvin would really be dead. And even if he did it to save himself what would that make him? With the axe down at his side, he walked toward her.
“Eileen…” He tried to remember something, anything, that he could say to her.
“Do you remember that guy who used to stand on the corner near the subway entrance and play the guitar?” She looked confused now, and Henry continued. “I could see you from my window. You used to always give him money, every time you walked by on your way to work.”
Eileen nodded, and something haunted left the eye that Henry could still see. “I remember. He only knows two songs, and he doesn’t even find a busier place to stand.”
Henry nodded. “And one time I was standing by the mailbox and you talked to me. You said something about my photography magazines.”
“Yeah. You said something about the first camera you ever had.”
“You really remember that? The one I got for my birthday?”
He reached out and she took his hand. It was her voice now, and she winced when she tried to move her other arm. There was a fence behind them and he pulled her toward it. She sank to the ground and leaned against it.
“I have to rest,” she said, and closed her eyes.
They might die if they stopped, but they would probably die anyway. Henry sat next to her in the cold grass. “Just for a minute,” he warned.
Then they came, two more twin monsters near the body of the dead one, their baby faces staring away from each other. He was nearly too weak to lift the axe, and he began to shout.
“It wasn’t me; it wasn’t her! We didn’t hurt you! It was him.”
By now he wasn’t even sure who he was yelling at: long-dead children, Walter Sullivan, or himself. And now these things might kill him if he couldn’t keep fighting. But as he watched one of the monsters sank to the ground and crouched there with its eyes closed. The other began to groom it, running huge misshapen hands through the first one’s feathers. They did not attack, and Henry backed away to sit next to Eileen again. Gently, he put one arm around her, trying not to touch the numbers carved into her back.
“Maybe you really should kill me, Henry. Or just leave me here. It’s the same thing. And I’m probably dead anyway, aren’t I?”
He searched her bandaged face but he was certain this was really Eileen inviting him to abandon her.
“I’m not leaving you,” he said.
He thought to himself, “If you’re dead I’m probably dead too,” but he didn’t say it.
“Do you remember the time I saw you in the park, over in North Ashfield?” he asked. “I was taking pictures of the fountain.”
“I walked over to you and said “Hello,” and you introduced yourself, even said ‘From Apartment 302’ like maybe I didn’t know who you were,” she said.
He was surprised she still remembered all that. “Yeah. I wanted to ask if I could take a picture of you, there by the fountain, but it seemed too… personal to ask.” And now it was too late.
More twin monsters were approaching, but they only sat down by the first ones, until they were all huddled together like a giant deformed nest filled with feathers and faces, with the dead one in the middle. There was a bizarre hideous beauty to the sight, and Henry would have wanted to take a photograph except for the fact that he never wanted to see it again.
Reluctantly, he stood, and reached down to help Eileen up. She swayed on her feet and he put one hand on the small of her back to steady her. The ground was littered with brown feathers that they crushed into the grass as they walked. One of the monsters opened its luminous eyes to stare at them as they went past.
"Go to sleep..." he whispered to it, and he thought he might be going insane when it closed its eyes.
“When this is all over…” he said to Eileen.
“It’s never going to be all over.”
“Shhh… We’ll go to the park and take a walk in the sunlight.”
“We’re never getting out of here,” she said, and he could tell she was crying. Henry couldn’t think of anything to say, just kept walking and hoping she was still with him.
“There’s a little pond in the back,” she said eventually.
He knew; he had a picture.
“Sometimes there are ducks,” she added, in a strained voice that was still entirely hers.
“I never saw them,” he said. Even though the park was right there in town, he had only been there a few times.
“They come right up to you. I guess nobody hunts in Ashfield.”
Henry nodded. “You’ll show me,” he said.
He waited for her to argue that she wouldn’t live to do that, but she just shook her head. She turned back for a moment, facing the clutch of feathered monsters, then pulled on his hand. “Let’s keep going.”