A New Fear: The Next Chapter Part 7
"I am sorry, I did not wish to insult thee." Thanos replied, tilting slightly as if it were bowing. "But, from what I can see from my master’s emotions, thou art the most beautiful thing in the world."
Tommy just wanted to die right now. 'God damn it, I was gonna wait till after we get out of here to say that!' Tommy thought, his cheeks burning red. "Uh...I can explain that..."
***
Duncan was about ready to choke Ai, frustrated as he tried to get back the map in vain. No matter how quick or how cunning he was, she would always be one step ahead of him. "Give it back!" Duncan cried, running towards the map once again. But fate had a funny way of screwing this up. Duncan, who was too busy keeping his eyes on the map, didn't notice a corpse on the floor, and sure enough, Duncan tripped over the corpse and flew through the air. Duncan once again tried to recover using his wing, but it only sent him off course, and now he was heading straight towards Ai. The only thing Duncan could think was, 'I'm dead, no matter what happens now...'
*-*
It kind of went in one ear and out the other. Why?
Because she heard Duncan’s failed attempts to get the map back from Ai all the way down the hall. That and the fact that Damion had come back, glaring at her as if to say hurry the fuck up or Ill be carrying you, too.
She glared back, but only looked at Tommy and his egg-friend, shrugging, then getting up to follow Damion. Shed done a good enough job with her patching up that it should hold until they got out of here.
Dierdre stopped when she realized that she had just left Tommy, who was currently in to condition to walk, on the floor behind her with a floating egg. She couldn’t feel more stupid if she tried.
She looked at Damion, a silent entreaty in her eyes, You’re smart, you think of something!
Sighing, Damion walked over, and propped Lin up so Dierdre had her on her back. He was right. She really was light.
She couldn’t help but shake her head and laugh when she thought of how the next few minutes would be.
***
Why am I doing this? He thought about it for a moment, Oh, right. This would turn out well. He was only going to be carrying his victim, who was in no position to fight him if he tried anything.
Yeah, I am such a good person. Yeah, right. Lets say that to the kid you pushed down a well, I’m sure he’d agree!
He ignored the floating egg, and he ignored the look he was getting from Tommy as he knelt down and picked him up. He silently turned around, following Dierdre down the hallway.
The fighting would begin any moment. Any moment now.
***
She was faced with a dilemma at this moment in time.
She had a winged person flying toward her, and if she didn’t do something, shed end up on the floor. Shed hit her head, and it would hurt. Ai didn’t feel like knocking her head on a dirty stone floor.
So, she did the only reasonable thing that anyone would do.
She stepped aside.
*-*
Tommy didn't say anything as Damion picked him up and carried him out of the room. 'She only shrugged...is that what I get...is that all I get for risking my life to save her, to keep her "brother" safe.' Tommy wondered, to deep in thought to complain about who was carrying him and why Damion of all people had to carry him. Was what he was doing all just for nothing, was he fighting for a love that would never be? Tommy sighed, his feelings torn as he wondered what he was fighting for.
***
Duncan slid across the floor, scraping his wing on a crack as he skidded to a halt. "Ow...That hurt..." Duncan muttered, standing up slowly and rubbing his wing tenderly, glad that it wasn't showing any signs of bleeding.
'Boy, why do you keep that wing? With out the other one, it is useless.'
"Well, it gives me a sort of...nostalgic feeling. Not only that, but it's a part of me, and it would hurt pretty badly if I hacked it off."
'...I understand...but don't do that stunt again.'
Duncan nodded, looking down the hall to see Damion carrying...Tommy? "Uh...did I miss something?"
Tommy didn't say anything, leaving Duncan to believe that Tommy was unconscious. Duncan smirked, "I never thought I'd see the day when Damion sweeps Tommy off his feet!" Tommy wanted to shoot Duncan right there, no...actually he didn't. Tommy was too deep in his thoughts to even pay attention to what Duncan said.
*-*
Ai only giggled when Duncan slid across the floor. He fell down! She said it as thought it were the funniest thing in the world. She hadn’t laughed at something in a while. It felt...nice.
Now, with the lack of attention on her, Ai decided to have more fun
In the form of running further down the hallway, map still in hand.
***
He’s not even fighting? Something was definitely wrong here. He had to be missing something. There was no way that Tommy would allow this in any other situation. Hell, he wouldn’t even allow it in this situation.
But he wasn’t even moving. His head just stayed there, resting against Damion’s shoulder. It was as if the will to even bother moving or doing something as simple as yelling at the person who killed him had left him completely.
Well, that just made him feel like the nicest person in the world, didn't it? Hardly. Hell, he wasn’t sure what was wrong with the kid. He’d been talking to Dierdre, and then
That’s it. It had to be. Something happened with her; must’ve been bad.
You gonna be alright, kid? If calling him a kid didn’t get a reaction, Damion was about ready to just drop him and forget about it. Then again, he’d hear about it later from Dierdre. But she didn’t even seem to make an effort to help out.
She either didn’t care, or something Tommy felt should be returned wasn’t.
But what was really scary...
...Was the fact that Damion actually cared if Tommy was alright.
***
Darkness. It was all darkness. So much darkness.
Cold, suffocating...yet comforting, like the embrace of a mother as she held her child. Her mother never did give her much attention after she turned eleven. When she was thirteen, her mother seemed to lose all interest.
Maybe that’s why she wasn’t scared when the darkness took over.
It felt good; it felt fantastic. To have power and protect herself, to bring down an enemy that was so many times her size and weight. To not need protection at all.
It was amazing.
But frightening.
And this darkness didn’t seem to want to let her wake up.
*-*
"What do you care..." Tommy muttered, pausing after his words, as if he wanted to take it back. "I...I feel dead inside. I've helped her...helped you for so long...and all I get is a shrug...not a caring look, not a blush, just a shrug. She walked out on me...almost forgot about me even. Why? Did I do something wrong? Didn't I try hard enough..." Tommy whispered to Damion, which was hard due to Tommy's current position. Tommy kept quiet, feeling tears begin to form in his eyes. Tommy held them back as best he could, staring at Damion's back so that no one could see his face.
***
Duncan left Damion and Tommy alone, mainly because Tommy wouldn't retort to Duncan's statement. Duncan sighed, restarting his chase, noticing Ai as she tried to get a head start. Duncan was completely oblivious to what Damion and Tommy were talking about, Duncan was oblivious about a lot of things that were going on, but he just went with the flow.
*-*
Great. He never was good at pep talks. Namely because he’d never been given one. Only lectures. I...wouldnt know. It hadn’t been hard for him. It had never been hard for him. She’s too different from when we were younger. She’s still the same in some ways, but He sighed, unable to resist the small smirk that appeared on his face.
If Tommy thought he was stupid enough to not notice when someone was crying, he was dead wrong. No pun intended. He’d been around the block too many times and seen plenty of people cry.
But he didn’t say anything. Bringing attention to someone when they’re upset only makes it worse. It might be fine for some people to have massive amounts of attention when they’re sad, but for some, it was the last thing they needed.
He’d never been able to really do or say anything, though. He just let them cry if out, not saying anything. He’d let them cry on his shoulder or even hold them if that’s what it took to make them shut up. But he never said a word.
So far, it had worked. But it seemed it would be a different case with Tommy.
Its not your fault. He shook his head, smiling bitterly. And this is coming from a psycho...I really am fucked up.
***
This was fun. It was lots of fun. Maybe if she ran long enough, she could tire him out, and get everyone out of here at the same time!
Then again, this place intrigued her. She wanted to explore! Exploring was always enjoyable. Ai rounded a corner, and went to the nearest door.
Opening it as quietly as she could, Ai slipped into the room, shutting the door just as quietly. Duncan was still trying to keep up; he was still approaching the corner, most likely.
After all, shed gotten a good head start.
*-*
"...You know...I'm starting to think everyone's fucked up. Duncan, Ai, Naomi, Lin...and Dierdre too." Tommy stated, thinking about how much time he had spent with everyone and how many problems they had. Duncan was the cheery orphan who turned emo at just the mention of Samael or Alessa's name. There was Lin, who was slowly getting swallowed by darkness. There was Ai...it was pretty obvious what her problem was. Then there was Dierdre, just thinking about her made Tommy feel bad. "If anything, you're the normal one, and you killed me." Tommy chuckled, a bittersweet grin on his face.
'Why am I smiling, and did I just call Damion...normal?!' Tommy couldn't understand this...but so far, he wasn't able to understand anything. But maybe he would...if he helped things move along.
"Damion...I'm going to stop trying to kill you. I realized, trying to avenge myself was a stupid reason to continue living...But...what will I do when we get out? That's what I wanna know..." Tommy said, wanting to have some kind of hand point him in the right direction.
*-*
Asking the resident demon for advice, huh? Well, he was older, so technically it was only natural. I don’t know. He smiled, but bitterly, I’m not sure what’s going to happen to me. I’m not fit for society. I don’t know if I can do it
He looked over at Lin, platinum strands falling over her cousin’s shoulder, eyes closed and breathing softly. I might have a chance, but
Damion probably wasn’t making Tommy feel any better while he was looking at Lin, not to mention the person that was more than likely to be someone Tommy would avoid for a while.
But...thanks for calling me normal. He laughed, but it was an empty one. I’m gonna kinda miss our arguments, though. That was actually the truth. But...now that he wasn’t going to try and kill him anymore...what would happen, now?
Where would they go from here?
*-*
Well...that left one conflict solved.
"And to think," he whispered to Duncan. "Just a few minutes ago, Tommy had an egg pop out of him and Damion was...well, he was his old self. Wow, things sure do come and go quickly around here."
But a question popped into his mind: Will it last?
Probably not. Something would spark.
But now onto more serious matters.
"Hmm..." Gavin hummed, and looked about. "There's another room over there, and I think that sign says...'OFFICE.'"
Best bet. There might be a map.
"We might as well try it. There might be something worth using," he more or less repeated to the others.
*-*
There is absolutely no consistency here, anymore. Things were coming and going so fast that it was hard to tell what was really going to stay the same. Apparently, Lin was now the princess of darkness, and Tommy was going to be avoiding Dierdre for some time.
And Ai would apparently have to be watched when it came to valuable items. She seemed to like stealing them.
***
Dierdre perked up at the sound of the word office. An office had chairs, sometimes couches. Lin wasn’t heavy...but it was kind of annoying to be carrying her around. Uh, lets try the office.
She looked down the hall, back the way that Ai had gone. If they heard any screams of bloody murder...then that was more than likely the case. Why was she so calm about the thought of Ai dying?
Must just be her minds way of saying hurry up and put her down, now.
When the door was opened, she was the first one in. Apparently Silent Hill wasn’t all bad...or the people here actually did something right. She set Lin down on a sofa that was near the door.
Dierdre stood up straight, cracking her back and stretching, grateful to be able to stand up straight again. She didn’t know how some people did it; carrying people around all the time.
***
The feeling of movement, of weightlessness suddenly stopped. For a brief moment, it felt almost like she were falling. But then she hit something; that something wasn’t the ground.
The darkness seemed to recede a bit, but didn’t allow her to open her eyes.
She would remain in darkness, it seemed.
***
When he set Tommy down in an armchair nearby where Lin now lay, there was no real movement once he let go. Was being in contact with his killer a comfort, now?
Well, things were more messed up than he thought.
Looking away from Tommy, he looked over at the seemingly comatose member of the group.
What the hell happened to you? This wasn’t the way he’d imagined it would be. Then again, there had been something wrong with her even before he’d disappeared from their group, only to wake up lying on the street in the rain.
It had been like waking up from a deep sleep (he hadn’t had one of those in years, actually); the only thing close to that had been all the times he fell unconscious. That wasn’t really considered a deep sleep, in his opinion. Hell, he couldn’t remember getting a good nights sleep in hell knows how many years.
*-*
Gavin was on the other side of the room, rustling through the drawers of the desk that stood kiddie-corner to a bookshelf and was the only other piece of furniture besides the couch, the armchair, the bookcase, and a small refrigerator that stood next to the door.
There were papers. Many papers. And it seemed that a lot of them were about...
Wait...what are these?
The papers...were about...him.
One paper which caught his eye particularly read:
BROOKHAVEN MEDICAL HOSPITAL
Silent Hill, West Virginia
PATIENT: #04629
Gavin John Annette, Age 7
The Record of Mr. Michael J. Kautzmann
The patient, Gavin, has shown very little sign of improvement. Since the loss of his brother in the fire that consumed his family home, Gavin has become encased in a state of almost psychotic delusion. He believes that a "demon" had come from the "Dark World" or "Nowhere-place" to take his brother, and has drawn horrible, yet strangely entrancing, simple drawings to illustrate his meanings.
Gavin has been with us for over a year, and now I believe it time to start what we here at Brookhaven call "the Sunlight treatment". Three doses of 200-volt surges should break this state of near-catatonia.
Although, I wonder if it a.) will have any adverse side effects, and b.) will be the safest and most secure course of action. I suppose experience breeds knowledge.
In the meantime, Lisa Garland will care for the boy until the treatments begin.
Gavin stood for a moment, swayed, and crashed into the desk-chair. It rolled backward and thumped into the wall. He merely stared at the paper.
What was this?
This wasn't true. He'd never been to a hospital before. Especially not for psychiatric treatment.
And how did they know about Richard...?
He looked up, and saw that everyone was staring at him. But their faces were blurred, distorted, as though through a waterfall.
It was then that he noticed he was crying.
Richard...
He began to sob.
"R...R-r-richard...oh God...."
*-*
Gavin’s outburst startled everyone in its own way. Dierdre looked up from her arms (shed been sitting on a chair next to the mini-fridge, leaning on it.) Even in her tired state, the sound of a desk chair hitting a wall was enough to get her attention.
Lin rolled over, brows furrowing briefly, before her face went lax. Tommy even looked up briefly before he went back into his zoned-out stupor.
Damion only stared. He just continued to stare until Gavin started bawling. He just walked right up to him, taking the paper out of his hand, and read it to find out just what the hell was upsetting him so badly.
Seven years old...I was around thirteen then...But I don’t remember anyone at the hospital like
But it came back. At least a fragment; a brief segment of a memory, like a scrap of paper with only half a sentence on it.
Damion had been in the serious cases in the Psyche Ward. He wasn’t really let out of his room unless he was extra special good...which wasn’t that often. He’d bite the doctors and nurses and glare bloody murder at other patients, his eyes promising pain and suffering if they so much as looked at him the wrong way.
But when they did let him out...he was always outside. In the garden. Or on the roof. They had a fence, but still...it was the closest thing to freedom he’d ever had since he was locked up at Brookhaven.
He remembered, now...there was a kid that just might have been Gavin. He wasn’t sure if they’d ever talked or what
Damion heard a lot about his brother. He’d watch him as he drew his creepy drawings. Damion himself was an artist in his own right; he just drew scenery or roses. The roses usually had one too many thorns and blood was usually involved...but a nurse had described everything about him as dark, morbidly beautiful, yet terrifying.
Yeah, that about summed him up.
But...he may very well have seen Gavin...back then.
I was there...around the time I was thirteen. He only meant to put a hand on Gavin’s shoulder, but he ended up coming down to his level, putting his arm around Gavin as he continued to sob. I might have seen you.
He wasn’t even sure if Gavin was listening. It seemed that, in this instance, talking to him was the only way to really solve it. That, and just letting him cry it out.
*-*
Gavin barely heard the words Damion spoke to him, and the arm around him went unfelt, as though the back of his neck were numb. But it didn't go unnoticed. He continued to sob.
I wish I could stop, he thought, but it's just...Richard, he...and I...I don't remember...
A pain, across his mind like a knife. He gasped, his sobs choked at once. Images flashed before him, like a horrible, evil movie one couldn't help but watch, the power button on the VCR either broken or completely forgotten. And somewhere, deep inside him, he felt that Damion, who was making direct contact with him, could see these things, too...
A long hallway, white as marble and lined with doors. It melted into the image of a door, Rm. #111, and as it opened, the darkness streamed from within, melting the walls and staining the world.
This faded into...
Gavin, sitting on the bed, writhing as things -- horrible, unspeakable things -- stood nearby, in the shadows. He tried to escape them by cuddling the wall, trying to melt into the wall...
This again faded into...
The garden. He sat upon the grass underneath an oak, scribbling maniacally upon a drawing pad. A field of roses, and a figure in their midst, being swallowed by their thorns. He was only a stick figure, but the position and the frowning face said everything that was needed to say.
A shadow passed over him.
He looked up.
And into the devil's eyes --
The scene ended abruptly. Damion's face replaced that of the one he had just seen.
Or had it?
It was the same face. Older, but the same.
Gavin screamed and twisted backward, causing the chair to tip and crash over, spilling him out onto the floor. Still screaming, he scrabbled into the corner, curled up, and covered his head with his arms.
Oh God, the visions!
What the hell was wrong with him?!
*-*
Even he was startled by Gavin’s violent outburst. But that wasn’t what concerned him. It was that vision
He remembered that day.
The sun had been warm that day. He hadn’t felt the sun in a while. Not since that doctor decided that he could tell him how he was feeling, despite the fact that he was the only one who was inside his own head.
That doctor was walking around with a cast on his wrist. They’d kept him locked up for a while, after that. He was treated like a prisoner. They’d talk to him through the door rather than risk him breaking any more limbs.
But now, he was outside. Sitting on a stone bench, half in, half out of the shade of a tree. A pencil was in his hand, a sketch pad on his lap. A brush full of deep red roses sat across from him, the wind carrying their sweet scent through the air.
Slowly the picture took shape. A wall, covered in roses, thorns plentiful and blood dripping onto the desolate ground below.
What are you drawing, today, Damion?
He looked up; there was a nurse with red hair and green eyes leaning down, looking over his shoulder. He didn’t really know her name. She was always around him at least once or twice a week, though.
He didn’t make it in his best interest to learn the names of the people that kept him in that hospital, anyway.
She looked down at the picture, then back up at him. Its...beautiful.
He stared at her from beneath dark bangs. Whatever. He turned to look down at the paper again, ignoring her presence. She stayed there, watching him for a few moments, before patting him on the head.
He gritted his teeth, grip on the pencil so tight that it began to splinter. I have to go check on the other patients, now. She smiled brightly, before turning around and walking down the stone pathway.
He looked back up, fully intent on continuing his sketch. But there was someone under the tree, a few feet away, now. He hadn’t even noticed that kid. He must’ve shown up when that nurse was bothering him.
He was scribbling furiously on a pad in front of him. For some reason, it reminded Damion of himself...maybe during his first few months here.
Standing up, he set the sketch pad down on the bench, dropping the pencil beside it. He slowly approached the kid
And now all he could hear was screaming.
*-*
It was a few moments later that Gavin realized his horrid, piercing scream had become a meek, raspy whisper. A small exclamation of stress rather than a full wail of sheer terror.
He closed his mouth and merely sat there, shaking uncontrollably, unable to think, or act, or speak.
The visions were slowly fading, but that one image, of the devil staring over his field of thorned roses, the man being swallowed by the spiny daggers of the flower, and...
And Richard...
How had he forgotten?
And even now, he couldn't remember even going to a hospital.
In fact, he couldn't remember...anything shortly before and long after Richard's death. Not up until the age of nine.
What was keeping his brain locked up?
He continued to shiver, and looked up at Damion.
His face shared his feelings exactly.
"I th-th-think I want to l-l-l-leave the r-room now," Gavin stammered, but couldn't stand.
His body was seized in fear-trembles, and he couldn't stop shivering.
*-*
Tommy didn't say anything once again, trying to look as far away from Dierdre as possible. So, Tommy was stuck watching Duncan as he walked over to the door and opened it so that Gavin could leave faster. "That wouldn't be a good idea, something could attack you in the halls." Tommy paused briefly, wondering if that’s how he should really be treating Gavin right now. "Never mind, you can go, but take someone with you." Tommy added, having a sudden change of heart.
"I think he meant us too genius." Duncan replied, rolling his eyes as he walked out, not really in the mood for Tommy's superiority complex. Duncan kept the door open, but left the room, standing on the left side of the doorway. "I swear, if somebody else has a mental breakdown, I am gonna give 'em a good bitch-slap." Duncan muttered to himself, waiting for the others to come out of the room (if they decided to leave).
*-*
He just wanted to leave. Now.
The moment the door to the office closed, he stumbled to the opposite wall, clawing at the stone. It wasn’t right. It just wasn’t right. It didn’t add up. Not at all.
Why couldn’t he remember the things that he should? Why the hell did everything seem so clear for a while, only for him to find out there was another hole in his memory? It felt like everything had been in place, that there was nothing left that he didn’t know.
Now life was throwing him another bloody curveball. He felt sick just thinking about the fact that he really had no true knowledge of just how many unknown parts of his memories were out there.
***
Screaming.
Then...someone leaving. Then another.
No...don't leave me here. This darkness was getting to be unbearable. No matter how comforting it had been at first...now it was just cold. No one was nearby.
She couldn’t open her eyes. She couldn’t move.
Wait
Somewhere--if felt so far away--her finger twitched faintly. Then her hand. She dragged it across her stomach, felt the brief feeling of air, then her hand hit the cold floor. She turned it, groping across the surface. Slowly, her body began to wake up, to break through the haze.
*-*
Duncan watched as Damion busted out the door, looking a little distressed. '...Okay, I'll admit, I'm stupid...but I'm not that stupid.' Duncan thought, knowing that if he did slap Damion, he would get hurt pretty badly for it. Instead, Duncan rushed to Damion's aid, wondering why he was acting like this all of a sudden.
***
Tommy stared at the door for a few moments before hearing a small shuffling sound from behind him. He quickly turned around, regretting it due to his back injury, and saw Lin, who was slowly but surely starting to wake up. "Jeez, is that what you women call 'beauty sleep'?" Tommy asked jokingly, smirking a little in relief.
*-*
Thank you. She opened her eyes, blinking. Even if the light was dim, it seemed pretty damn blinding to her. Her eyes focused, and she looked over at Tommy. Glad that you know beauty when you see it.
She heard Dierdre scoff off to the side, and only grinned. So glad to see you’re concerned.
Lin sat up, then used the side of the couch to stand up. Once she was sure she wouldn’t fall flat on her face the moment she let go, she slowly went toward the door. No one else was in here, so she only assumed that they were outside.
She guessed right.
But she wasn’t expecting to see Damion in distress. He never got distressed. She really hoped it didn’t have anything to do with her. If it did...then damn did she feel bad.
Damion?
***
There was a hand on his arm. So what? He’d seen plenty of hands in his time; shouldn’t be that shocking. But this hand had rings...Celtic rings. He followed said-hand up an arm, then a shoulder. Platinum hair with black streaks. Hazel eyes.
Hi there.
She frowned when he only seemed to stare at her, waving her hand in front of his face. Hello? Am I a ghost? She crossed her arms, expression one of deep thought.
Then she seemed to get an idea.
Yeah. It was her. There was just the right amount of hold in the arms that were around him. Her head was at the right height; the scent was even the same.
That faint feeling of darkness was enough to convince him. Lin.
Yep! Took you long enough.