Silent Hill fic 'Who I Really Am (2/2)'
Epilogue!
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Alfred Collins was lost. And very, very pissed.
He cursed the broken down car that had run out of gas. Cursed the secretary who had slowed him down and made him an hour late. Cursed the mountain roads and the sudden fog that had risen and engulfed them until the man had finally been driving blind.
His soft gray business suit was wrinkled and dirty from the dampness of the fog and the strange cloud of ash that was falling steadily. Practically stomping his way down the mountain road with an empty gas canister in one hand, a cellphone in the other.
Relatively handsome, tall and fit with short brown hair clipped close to his skull and sharp blue eyes, most women and a few men were known to be holding significant interest with him. A smooth, classic sort of handsome features.
The smooth face was twisted in an ugly grimace of annoyance as he roughly punched the buttons on his cellphone, CERTAIN that he had just charged the damn thing not even yesterday. But it refused to respond the screen lit with a bright flat spread of white static.
He didn't look up as he passed the beaten and half-crumbling large sign on the side of the road. It wasn't like he cared wherever he was going. As long as it had a adequate gas station and an attendant that spoke relatively decent English, it would suit him just fine.
~WELCOME TO SILENT HILL~
Finally several minutes later he ended up stuffing the cell phone into the pocket of his suit jacket, barely making out the silent and looming sentries of buildings as he drew closer to the town.
It didn't take long for Alfred to safely determine that the place, for all better purposes, was abandoned. Run down and cloaked in fog, the place was a verifiable ghost town. Over half of the windows in each building were either boarded up from the inside or smashed inward. Cars rusted and sat dead on the streets choking under thick piles of ash. Display cases for clothing and furniture were stained black and warped with age. All just a dirty and useless mess.
"Just perfect." He sneered. What a bunch of help this place had to offer. Apparently it had and would offer no working gas pump that would offer him a one-way ticket out of this dump. The place should be bulldozed down to the ground and the skeleton left to rot.
A sound like a hesitant shuffle off to the left caught his attention.
He jumped, startled by the loud ringing clang of metal against brick. The top of a metal garbage can rolled out shakily into the street, and Alfred managed to catch sight of a long and ragged black coat flying as a figure disappeared down the alley between two buildings.
"Hey!!" Alfred shouted. "Hey you, stop!" He ordered, running after the fleeing figure.
As he ran into the alley, he saw that the person, what appeared to be a slim and pale-featured man, darting down a descending flight of concrete stairs into an open doorway at the end of the alley. Alfred scrambled to a hasty stop at the top of the stairs, making out the rough outline of the man disappearing into the dark gloom.
"Damn it!! I just want to ask where the nearest gas station is!" Alfred called out after the stranger angrily.
Silence greeted his loud burst of anger.
"Son of a bitch." He cursed under his breath, turning away from the stairs and doorway. The prospect of life in this place apparently had no sense or decency to offer him direction.
A soft, lilting laugh made him pause. The laughter floated out of the darkness.
"..alfred…" The voice was barely discernable, Alfred having to pause in order to listen.
"…Alfred…"
"Alfred."
"Son of a back-alley whore." The voice laughed softly.
Alfred's face flushed in anger at the ridiculing voice that whispered up from the darkness. "You little prick." He hissed, not caring to wonder how the voice knew his name. Taking the descending stairs one at a time, hand still on the empty jug, he promised to the empty darkness ahead as he descended into it, "When I get a hold of you, you little prick, I'll show you not to make a fool out of me."
The cellphone in his pocket gave a low and static-filled hiss and sputter, screen flashing black and white as he descended.
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The building Alfred found himself in had to have been an old hotel. The etched moldings along the walls and pillars had seen better days. The carpet was worn, completely through in some areas down to the rotting wood panels. Various pieces of furniture were scattered and lay broken throughout the lobby and parlor. The few intact pieces of lounges and chairs were sagging and so entirely coated with dust that when his hand passed over the material it came back thick with the tacky material.
A wide arching set of stairs went up to the second story, and looked as if it went up even further. The building must be enormous. There were also several elevators stationed far away, but they were so old and dated that Alfred was certain it would take a miracle to bring them to life.
Alfred jerked when the cellphone started to emit a metallic squeal of gears and static, hissing wildly and the bright blue lights around the individual buttons and the screen flickered madly.
The stairs creaked overhead.
His head jerked up and Alfred caught sight of the figure striding down the walkway above on the second-story floor.
"HEY!" He shouted, darting for the stairs as the man's pace never faltered but quickened, ragged coat billowing after him as he took off down a far corridor.
Alfred took the stairs two at a time, within moments at the top and following the receding footsteps up ahead. He ran down the corridor, hastily peering down hallways and dead ends. Looking down at the floor beneath him, he could make out through the thick layers of dust, the inlay of shoes having trampled their way through.
Down another adjacent hallway, Alfred almost ran by without seeing the door that was swinging slowly to close.
'Got you!' Alfred thought in victory.
He caught the door before it managed to fully close, using his height and strength to force it open. Pushing into the room, he slammed the door shut behind him with a resolute bang. The force of the thick wood against frame sent out a small puff of dust from the cracks in the walls.
The room had to have been a master suite. Two large bay windows were set into the distant wall opposite of the door, the curtains hanging limp and dull with age along the glass panes. A large king-size bed was pushed firmly into the available space between the windows, dusty but fat plump pillows scattered around the surface. Tattered and worn thick blankets were twisted and fluffed about the bed. The room was empty of anything else.
Expect the man who was huddled against the foot of the bed; head bent at an angle so that Alfred could not make out his face.
Alfred sneered down at the ragged piece of trash crouched before him. "You little shit." He cursed. "You think this is some kind of game?" He demanded.
The answer he received was far from what he expected.
"Why not?" The voice was soft, mouth hidden underneath long strands of pale blond hair, "You enjoyed your games with those women." Through the cover of his hair and over the length of his forearm the disheveled man stared in Alfred's general direction. "Are you the only one allowed to have any fun?" He asked.
A bitter gorge rose up in Alfred's throat. No, it couldn't possibly be… "I have no idea what you are talking about." Alfred insisted angrily.
"Oh, but you do." The man persisted, slim hands holding the tattered edges of the long black jacket around him, arms clinking softly as if there was something metallic hidden under the too large sleeves. "Tell me, did you kill those prostitutes just because they were there, Alfred?" The man asked calmly, "Or was it that they reminded you of your mother? The mom who sold her body for profit. The same woman you suffocated in her sleep with a pillow."
"Shut up!!" Alfred hissed.
The game of cat and mouse had quickly shifted. The role of aggressor had alternated to the raggedly dressed stranger who appeared totally weak and without an ounce of worth but who made Alfred cringe with loathing and disgust from both his mannerisms and his words.
"You enjoyed it, even when they begged. Their screams were like a symphony to you, weren't they?" The man rose to his feet, standing at the foot of the bed with his arms still wrapped around his waist. "It made you hard between your legs. The power you received from your acts and the revenge you brought down upon those women are etched within your flesh and across the filth that lies in your soul. Your sins are lust, gluttony, and wrath." The man drew himself to his full height, although several inches shorter than the one standing near the door, "Your answer to the crimes you are challenged with?" He asked.
The man was obviously a lunatic. Alfred's disgust grew even further.
'But a clever one,' A voice whispered warningly, 'Everything had been so careful, so well-planned. Not even the police know about the bodies.'
"Just shut your fucking mouth…" Alfred's threat hung loudly between them.
The man ignored the warning, humming softly to himself, nodding as if listening to distant voices. "He denies it. Like the others. But all the same…" Alfred couldn't see the man's face, but he could sense that he was looking in the taller man's direction, "Your hands are still covered in their blood."
Alfred's hand that was holding the empty gas canister whipped around and slammed into the side of the bent figure's head. The man emitted a weakl and muffled gasp of surprise, stumbling to his knees and then falling onto his side. A trembling hand cradled the side of his face where the bruise was most likely beginning to spread while his flesh swelled with the fevered mark of a sharp impact.
Alfred glared down at the huddled man, feeling a small trickle of delight at the man's weakened state from the blow. It had been almost too easy to strike the man and send him crashing helplessly to the ground. Weaker than any of those bitches he had strangled with his bare hands or anything that had been within easy reach. "Tell me when it hurts, you pathetic piece of shit." He spat viciously down at the huddled figure.
The crouched man shook his head carefully, strands of hair shuffling about and pulling back to reveal small glimpses of pale skin and a thick band of fabric that was wrapped snuggly around his head, completely covering his eyes. The dark fabric against such pale skin made his flesh appear deathly pale and his lips ripe and flushed.
"What the--you're blind." Alfred said in disgust.
The man laughed softly. "No, no. Not blind. After all…" He lifted his head, one corner of his lips puffy and a trickle of blood seeping out of his mouth. "I can see you, Alfred Collins."
"You're insane." Alfred insisted furiously as the man rose unsteadily to his feet, hand still held to the injured portion of his face.
"Maybe." He acquiesced. The man smiled, teeth painted pink from the spilled blood in his mouth. "And you're dead."
'…What?'
Something in the air seemed to shift and thicken around them. Alfred's blue eyes widened in incomprehension and fright as the pale sky outside began to churn steadily and grow darker and darker as if being swallowed by a rising maw of darkness. Frantically he felt behind him for the door handle, twisting and pulling but finding it resisting his desperate efforts to pry it open.
The cellphone in his pocket was going mad. Vibrating and shrieking a metallic and painful scream. Alfred tore it out of his pocket and threw it away from him, banging and kicking at the door.
"Don't bother. It's not like you'll have anywhere to run." The man warned him. He was now sitting down and sliding backwards onto the bed until his back was to the wood headboard. Alfred stared dumbly at the links of metal chains and manacles that slipped out of the cuffs of the man's pants and jacket that were attached to each limb, the ends of the chains appearing to have been torn away from some sort of mounting. The silver metal contrasted sharply with the shabby pair of loosely tied boots, loose black jeans that had open slits along the thighs, knees and calves. He was nearly swallowed by the worn black jacket that was clearly two sizes too large, the shirt underneath the jacket clean but an unimpressive slate gray. Catching how Alfred's attention was on the manacles around his wrists, the man grinned slightly and raised his arms above his head, the chains clinking softly.
"Your sins and fears bind you."
Alfred pressed back against the door, the container in his hand falling from slack fingers. "What the hell are you?"
A small laugh.
"My apologies. My manners have been of little use over such a period of time, that I forget myself. I am Sin." He said, as the darkness spread through the windows and into the room, a tangible presence as it swallowed the two men whole with a whisper of noise that sounded like a sharp breathless exhale.
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James wasn't blind. On the contrary, he could see magnificently well even through the fabric. The material was really there in order not to scare away any humans that would possible enter into the realm of Silent Hill. It wouldn't do to ruin the surprise of what they would eventually face and challenge. With his vision, it was like the cloth wasn't even there. He could even see through the darkness that had settled throughout the room and building and that had settled throughout the entire town.
Only he was capable of moving between both realms unattended. His other companions could, if they really and truly desired. But they enjoyed the other area too much to leave it behind for the gray world unless James called out to them. They allowed him his leisure explorations as long as he never attempted to leave Silent Hill.
The human was huddled against the door, head darting in various directions, blind and unable to discern his surroundings. He wasn't able to witness the paint melting off of the walls to reveal slanted black metal or the pieces of rug ripping free from the ground and floating towards the ceiling. Steel grates appeared in the floor, a few lit softly by the bright fires that burned well below the surface of Silent Hill. The bed remained exactly the same while the drapes melted into slick and damp stretches of plastic that dripped down into pools of crimson upon the floor.
But James' attention was not on any of that, really. He was more focused on the limbs and torso that began to melt and reform in a far corner inside of the room. The familiar tall form, the butcher's apron boots and gloves, the bare chest that rippled with muscles and with the occasional old lacerations and scars. Pyramid Head stretched his body like he had awoken from a long sleep, arms stretched to the side and away from his body and right hand holding the long spear, the helmet arching back to reveal the yawning darkness at the bottom of the open helmet.
The human turned his head in the direction of the hollow exhales of air that Pyramid Head released when his body had completely formed. Pyramid Head moved soundless away from the human and towards James, the spear dropping to the ground with such a loud sound that the human jumped and cringed. The demon cared little about the human that had wandered foolishly into the trap, more focused on the man sitting upon the bed. James' venture through the town had left him wandering from the two for almost three days.
James smiled and fell back until he was flat on his back, head nestling into the nest of pillows. Sensing the other demon's intentions, he quickly and efficiently kicked off the loosely tied boots. The pants were loose enough that with a few twists of his hips and a certain degree of arching they slid past the hip bones and rested just above the patch of light curled hair.
The bed was made of strong resilient material to be able to hold not only James but also the other demon's heavier body. It was astounding how Pyramid Head's shoulders, neck and body easily supported and moved the large helmet with ease. The larger demon kept it from hitting James with quiet effort. James would have liked to have clasped the demon too him, as they were wont to do on many occasions, without the helmet. Sadly, it wasn't the time for that with a human being so close to them. The human wasn't nearly capable of handling the awe and magnitude of such as sight. He also didn't deserve to see it.
"Tell me." James whispered softly, too low for anyone other than the demon above him to hear, mouth close to the bottom of the helmet where another mouth was so temptingly close, "Did I do well? Have I brought a good one?" He asked, sliding his arms up and circling the broad shoulders.
Pyramid Head carefully ran a gloved hand over the swollen and damaged portion of James' face and mouth, fingers chasing and catching the fresh trickle of blood as it skated across pale skin. --YES.-- Pyramid Head answered.
James sighed, letting his head fall back and turn into the hand pressed against his face as a firm body slid between loose jeans. The demon's other hand slid down to tug the black jeans and briefs down far enough that James was able to untangle one leg while the other limb lay bound by the constricted fabric. A small sound of need and expectation mewled from the smaller man as his hips were arched back so that Pyramid Head could slide further into the cradle of his thighs, the material of the apron slick and smooth against the sensitive inner flesh.
His head arched as he was penetrated with the firm press of the demon's hand, the rocking motion smooth and solid without causing unnecessary pain. Discomfort was little, unless the need was too great and demanding. James' body was always eager and ready for the heat and the touch. It was all necessary and willing; it was what he craved, what they all had and craved.
Life was good. Really good.
The apron was nearly thrown off and curled over Pyramid Head's hip and thigh as he too began to fall into the thrall of flesh and heat. It wasn't long before the hand pulled back and something much larger and more persistent steadily pushed past the ring of muscle that guarded James' entrance. A firm and long lunge forward and Pyramid Head was buried deep, James' thighs quivering and clutching tight to a firm waist.
Mouth open in an expression of wonder James' hands clenched and anchored onto the shoulders above him, arching as a firm hand cradled his lower back to hold him steady. The chains attached to James' ankles trailed down the back of Pyramid's uncovered flanks and the chains attached to the smaller man's wrists trailed down his upper arms.
--SAY IT.--
-- EVEN IF YOU SAY IT ABOVE OR BENEATH ME.-- (1)
James groaned softly from a hard and electric thrust, his entire body jolting from the motion. "I-I- I'm here. I'm where I'm supposed to be."
--SAY IT.--
"I'm real." James said, dots of fine sweat breaking across his skin. "I won't run away anymore. I've accepted who I am."
Pyramid Head stilled for a moment. The pause made James twist and writhe beneath him, hands tugging persistently, wordless demanding him to move. He took delight in the way James called out to him, to them, just as they called to him.
It had all become so perfect.
Amazing what could happen when one simply stopped fighting the inevitable.
--YES.-- His voice was a hiss of pleasure. He met James' gaze from under the helmet, sulfurous eyes meeting another. Giving in finally he leaned down further to allow James to reach up and hold tightly to him while his own arms circled the smaller form until they were both bound within flesh and chains and cloth.
It felt right, but another was missing. Soon, though, that too would change.
--AND NOW…MY BROTHER WILL PLAY.-- He promised.
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The room had become some sort of nightmare.
Alfred was pressed so firmly into the sealed door that he could feel splinters digging into him through the cloth of his suit jacket.
'What the fuck is this?!' He demanded. No answer came.
His vision was poor but he could finally begin to see in rough detail what was occurring, nowhere near as capable as James was though. The room had melted and reformed into something twisted and a mockery of anything decent and sane. The damn floor was gone in areas where only metal grating kept him separated from some sort of hellish fire that was burning below. The walls were cold to the touch but parts were damp and crumbling. Alfred quickly drew his hands away, trying to rub the filth off of him.
He had to be hallucinating.
There was no way any of this was real.
"……aaaa….haaaaa!!…Aaaahh…." Someone made a long drawn out sound of tension that ended in a low moan.
Alfred squinted, the dim light offering only minimal visual. The sound had come from where the freak had sat when the strange darkness had suddenly risen and consumed the room.
Something else from the same general area rumbled low like an echo across rough metal. A loud sound of something slick and heavy smacking into flesh and this time the voice from early almost screamed.
"HHnnn…st-stop tormenting me…" The voice from before begged with a thread of annoyance.
Dark rumbling laughter echoed the command.
'What the hell?'
Groping blindly Alfred checked his pockets, pushing past the nearly empty packet of cigarettes until he found the familiar smooth finish of his lighter. Jerking it free he flicked the starter several times until a steady flame rose from the tip, illuminating the nearly pitch black room with a warm gold glow.
He wished he hadn't.
The freak, 'Sin', was still upon the bed. But now he was disheveled and half-naked, jacket and shirt shoved up to create a pillow under his head. Jeans and briefs twisted around one leg with the other was bare except for one sock. The man's head was thrown back mouth open and panting deeply and hands gripping tight onto shoulders--
--Hanging onto some THING--
God, it couldn't possibly be human. The body was that of a man, maybe, but that, that, contraption on the head. The build on it was too large and massive to be attained by natural means. Whatever it was, beast, man, or demon, it had the smaller man pinned flat to the bed as it rocked and shoved itself tightly forward between pale strong legs and thighs.
It was like animals rutting. How two bodies, male bodies at that, could even fit and move against one another in such a manner without pain or blood being spilled between them…
The pace seemed to stutter and then quicken, the beast above leaning further down until its chest was pressed along the other's, one last and steady lunge before flanks and buttocks clenching tight and hips rocking in small tight circles. The freak's mouth was pressed firmly into the neck of the one above it, burrowing as close as possible and arms winding loosely around shoulders and neck. He was panting raggedly, a look of bliss on his face with eyes still masked by the dark strip of fabric but hardly hiding the wonder and look of fulfillment.
"Oh..fuck.." Alfred moaned in horror, clapping a hand over his mouth to hold back possible sickness.
The stupidity of his words was soon realized.
The two figures stilled, the large pyramid shaped head turned to the side as if to regard him, but Alfred could 'sense' the eyes that bore into him with a heavy weight that threatened to make his heart stop. A hand came down to brush the area where bruised flesh and bleeding lips were upon the male beneath him-
But wait. That wasn't true. The wounds upon the freak's face were gone, skin untainted and unmarked.
Apparently the demon hadn't forgotten the marks and was absolutely aware of who had brought them down upon the pale flesh.
"No. No." The freak stopped the demon from rising as it rose to kneel on its knees, bringing it back down to stretch over him and press him down into the mattress. "I know how badly you want to. But you both agreed. It's his turn now. You've got to be fair." A shift of a body and covered eyes regarded Alfred with flat but full intensity. "He won't escape."
As if waiting for a cue from the freak, the door behind Alfred was suddenly gone, torn clean off of its hinges. The crash of breaking and shattering wood echoed around him as he fell back. Just as quickly as he had been falling he was shoved forward and sent sprawling ungainly onto the floor inches away from open grating. He was stretched on his stomach limbs askew and trembling from the force of the blow that had shoved him further into the room.
Heavy footsteps thundered into the room to stop near his head, something large being scrapped and dragged across the floor. Shakily and ever so slow Alfred turned his face to the side and upwards, tracing the heavy dark boots, up the slick apron that was wrapped and knotted around the hips of a long and flat bare waist. The torso extended up to broad shoulders and long arms, neck instead disappearing into a familiar pyramid helmet.
Unable to believe his eyes Alfred whipped his gaze from the large bed in the room and back to the figure standing above him. Two. Two, two, there were more of these things.
This one offered a greater threat. In its right hand and between them, it bore a massive and long blade nearly as tall as it was. The great head was tilted down to face the fallen human.
Alfred's mouth opened and closed soundless, too stunned to speak, frozen and paralyzed in his terror.
"These two have been eager for someone like you to arrive." Sin offered helpfully. A hand stroked lazily along the arm of the male above him. "It must be hard for you to think or look upon them. If it's easier for you, since humans have such a need to give everything a name, you may refer to him.." He indicated the one pressed against him. "As Beast. And him…" Now motioning towards the one standing above and near his head, "As Fiend."
The one nearest to him shifted, and a voice rumbled from within the helmet and seemed to sink and twist his way into the interior of his skull.
ALFRED.
ALFRED COLLINS.
Alfred's limbs twitched, a sign that he was contemplating the possibility of fleeing for his life.
THERE IS NO ESCAPE.
--YOU HAVE ONLY MADE IT HARDER FOR YOURSELF, AFTER WHAT YOU DID TO ONE OF OUR OWN.--
Acid rose from his stomach as he remembered.
//Alfred's hand that was holding the empty gas canister whipped around and slammed into the side of the bent figure's head. The man emitted a muffled gasp of surprise, stumbling to his knees and then falling onto his side. A trembling hand cradled the side of his face where the bruise was most likely beginning to spread while his flesh swelled with the fevered mark of a sharp impact.//
"I--I…what is going on…? This isn't real, right? This, this place…It's Hell. It's got to be!" Albert babbled hysterically, shaking and trembling.
IT IS WHATEVER YOU BELIEVE IT TO BE.
BUT THE TIME FOR QUESTIONS IS PAST, ALFRED. YOU HAVE BEEN JUDGED BY OUR OWN, SIN. HOW DO YOU ANSWER?
"Fuck, fuck, fuck. This isn't happening. You have no right to hold me here. I don't belong here!!!"
--YOUR DENIAL BRINGS UPON THE INEVITABLE.--
"Do you see, Alfred?" Sin asked the trembling human upon the floor. When the human looked up towards him, Sin raised a hand, fingers circling the band of fabric around his head. With a sharp tug the material fell to pool within his lap. His eyes were closed, but Alfred lay spellbound as the eyelids purposely opened and finally stared straight back unhidden and aware.
Sulfurous pale-green light, a miasma a burning fire of intense heat, stared back at the human. Sin smiled, more of a snarl with just a baring of his teeth, "Do you see?" He demanded. "You came here, and now you can't escape us and you can't deny what you are." His hand flexed around the arm in his grip as he leaned forward towards the human's direction, "Do you see?!" He hissed. "Do you see what you bring upon yourself. Your words bind you to your fate!"
The demon standing above Alfred bent down, minutely. A hand slowly and inescapably began to fill the entire range of his vision, reaching towards him. There was no means of escape. It was as final and as cold as Death.
The voice held no mercy as it spoke while promising many horrors that made Alfred curl up into a ball, covering his head and screaming wordless against the floor.
TELL ME WHEN IT HURTS. The demon proffered to the mortal man.
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the end
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Author's note: Not near as good as I had hoped, but I give myself two out of five, for effort at least.
(1) That line? Comes roughly from a song/poem I wrote a while back. It's stored in my memories on my livejournal, but unfortunately only Friends can read it.
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Alfred Collins was lost. And very, very pissed.
He cursed the broken down car that had run out of gas. Cursed the secretary who had slowed him down and made him an hour late. Cursed the mountain roads and the sudden fog that had risen and engulfed them until the man had finally been driving blind.
His soft gray business suit was wrinkled and dirty from the dampness of the fog and the strange cloud of ash that was falling steadily. Practically stomping his way down the mountain road with an empty gas canister in one hand, a cellphone in the other.
Relatively handsome, tall and fit with short brown hair clipped close to his skull and sharp blue eyes, most women and a few men were known to be holding significant interest with him. A smooth, classic sort of handsome features.
The smooth face was twisted in an ugly grimace of annoyance as he roughly punched the buttons on his cellphone, CERTAIN that he had just charged the damn thing not even yesterday. But it refused to respond the screen lit with a bright flat spread of white static.
He didn't look up as he passed the beaten and half-crumbling large sign on the side of the road. It wasn't like he cared wherever he was going. As long as it had a adequate gas station and an attendant that spoke relatively decent English, it would suit him just fine.
~WELCOME TO SILENT HILL~
Finally several minutes later he ended up stuffing the cell phone into the pocket of his suit jacket, barely making out the silent and looming sentries of buildings as he drew closer to the town.
It didn't take long for Alfred to safely determine that the place, for all better purposes, was abandoned. Run down and cloaked in fog, the place was a verifiable ghost town. Over half of the windows in each building were either boarded up from the inside or smashed inward. Cars rusted and sat dead on the streets choking under thick piles of ash. Display cases for clothing and furniture were stained black and warped with age. All just a dirty and useless mess.
"Just perfect." He sneered. What a bunch of help this place had to offer. Apparently it had and would offer no working gas pump that would offer him a one-way ticket out of this dump. The place should be bulldozed down to the ground and the skeleton left to rot.
A sound like a hesitant shuffle off to the left caught his attention.
He jumped, startled by the loud ringing clang of metal against brick. The top of a metal garbage can rolled out shakily into the street, and Alfred managed to catch sight of a long and ragged black coat flying as a figure disappeared down the alley between two buildings.
"Hey!!" Alfred shouted. "Hey you, stop!" He ordered, running after the fleeing figure.
As he ran into the alley, he saw that the person, what appeared to be a slim and pale-featured man, darting down a descending flight of concrete stairs into an open doorway at the end of the alley. Alfred scrambled to a hasty stop at the top of the stairs, making out the rough outline of the man disappearing into the dark gloom.
"Damn it!! I just want to ask where the nearest gas station is!" Alfred called out after the stranger angrily.
Silence greeted his loud burst of anger.
"Son of a bitch." He cursed under his breath, turning away from the stairs and doorway. The prospect of life in this place apparently had no sense or decency to offer him direction.
A soft, lilting laugh made him pause. The laughter floated out of the darkness.
"..alfred…" The voice was barely discernable, Alfred having to pause in order to listen.
"…Alfred…"
"Alfred."
"Son of a back-alley whore." The voice laughed softly.
Alfred's face flushed in anger at the ridiculing voice that whispered up from the darkness. "You little prick." He hissed, not caring to wonder how the voice knew his name. Taking the descending stairs one at a time, hand still on the empty jug, he promised to the empty darkness ahead as he descended into it, "When I get a hold of you, you little prick, I'll show you not to make a fool out of me."
The cellphone in his pocket gave a low and static-filled hiss and sputter, screen flashing black and white as he descended.
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The building Alfred found himself in had to have been an old hotel. The etched moldings along the walls and pillars had seen better days. The carpet was worn, completely through in some areas down to the rotting wood panels. Various pieces of furniture were scattered and lay broken throughout the lobby and parlor. The few intact pieces of lounges and chairs were sagging and so entirely coated with dust that when his hand passed over the material it came back thick with the tacky material.
A wide arching set of stairs went up to the second story, and looked as if it went up even further. The building must be enormous. There were also several elevators stationed far away, but they were so old and dated that Alfred was certain it would take a miracle to bring them to life.
Alfred jerked when the cellphone started to emit a metallic squeal of gears and static, hissing wildly and the bright blue lights around the individual buttons and the screen flickered madly.
The stairs creaked overhead.
His head jerked up and Alfred caught sight of the figure striding down the walkway above on the second-story floor.
"HEY!" He shouted, darting for the stairs as the man's pace never faltered but quickened, ragged coat billowing after him as he took off down a far corridor.
Alfred took the stairs two at a time, within moments at the top and following the receding footsteps up ahead. He ran down the corridor, hastily peering down hallways and dead ends. Looking down at the floor beneath him, he could make out through the thick layers of dust, the inlay of shoes having trampled their way through.
Down another adjacent hallway, Alfred almost ran by without seeing the door that was swinging slowly to close.
'Got you!' Alfred thought in victory.
He caught the door before it managed to fully close, using his height and strength to force it open. Pushing into the room, he slammed the door shut behind him with a resolute bang. The force of the thick wood against frame sent out a small puff of dust from the cracks in the walls.
The room had to have been a master suite. Two large bay windows were set into the distant wall opposite of the door, the curtains hanging limp and dull with age along the glass panes. A large king-size bed was pushed firmly into the available space between the windows, dusty but fat plump pillows scattered around the surface. Tattered and worn thick blankets were twisted and fluffed about the bed. The room was empty of anything else.
Expect the man who was huddled against the foot of the bed; head bent at an angle so that Alfred could not make out his face.
Alfred sneered down at the ragged piece of trash crouched before him. "You little shit." He cursed. "You think this is some kind of game?" He demanded.
The answer he received was far from what he expected.
"Why not?" The voice was soft, mouth hidden underneath long strands of pale blond hair, "You enjoyed your games with those women." Through the cover of his hair and over the length of his forearm the disheveled man stared in Alfred's general direction. "Are you the only one allowed to have any fun?" He asked.
A bitter gorge rose up in Alfred's throat. No, it couldn't possibly be… "I have no idea what you are talking about." Alfred insisted angrily.
"Oh, but you do." The man persisted, slim hands holding the tattered edges of the long black jacket around him, arms clinking softly as if there was something metallic hidden under the too large sleeves. "Tell me, did you kill those prostitutes just because they were there, Alfred?" The man asked calmly, "Or was it that they reminded you of your mother? The mom who sold her body for profit. The same woman you suffocated in her sleep with a pillow."
"Shut up!!" Alfred hissed.
The game of cat and mouse had quickly shifted. The role of aggressor had alternated to the raggedly dressed stranger who appeared totally weak and without an ounce of worth but who made Alfred cringe with loathing and disgust from both his mannerisms and his words.
"You enjoyed it, even when they begged. Their screams were like a symphony to you, weren't they?" The man rose to his feet, standing at the foot of the bed with his arms still wrapped around his waist. "It made you hard between your legs. The power you received from your acts and the revenge you brought down upon those women are etched within your flesh and across the filth that lies in your soul. Your sins are lust, gluttony, and wrath." The man drew himself to his full height, although several inches shorter than the one standing near the door, "Your answer to the crimes you are challenged with?" He asked.
The man was obviously a lunatic. Alfred's disgust grew even further.
'But a clever one,' A voice whispered warningly, 'Everything had been so careful, so well-planned. Not even the police know about the bodies.'
"Just shut your fucking mouth…" Alfred's threat hung loudly between them.
The man ignored the warning, humming softly to himself, nodding as if listening to distant voices. "He denies it. Like the others. But all the same…" Alfred couldn't see the man's face, but he could sense that he was looking in the taller man's direction, "Your hands are still covered in their blood."
Alfred's hand that was holding the empty gas canister whipped around and slammed into the side of the bent figure's head. The man emitted a weakl and muffled gasp of surprise, stumbling to his knees and then falling onto his side. A trembling hand cradled the side of his face where the bruise was most likely beginning to spread while his flesh swelled with the fevered mark of a sharp impact.
Alfred glared down at the huddled man, feeling a small trickle of delight at the man's weakened state from the blow. It had been almost too easy to strike the man and send him crashing helplessly to the ground. Weaker than any of those bitches he had strangled with his bare hands or anything that had been within easy reach. "Tell me when it hurts, you pathetic piece of shit." He spat viciously down at the huddled figure.
The crouched man shook his head carefully, strands of hair shuffling about and pulling back to reveal small glimpses of pale skin and a thick band of fabric that was wrapped snuggly around his head, completely covering his eyes. The dark fabric against such pale skin made his flesh appear deathly pale and his lips ripe and flushed.
"What the--you're blind." Alfred said in disgust.
The man laughed softly. "No, no. Not blind. After all…" He lifted his head, one corner of his lips puffy and a trickle of blood seeping out of his mouth. "I can see you, Alfred Collins."
"You're insane." Alfred insisted furiously as the man rose unsteadily to his feet, hand still held to the injured portion of his face.
"Maybe." He acquiesced. The man smiled, teeth painted pink from the spilled blood in his mouth. "And you're dead."
'…What?'
Something in the air seemed to shift and thicken around them. Alfred's blue eyes widened in incomprehension and fright as the pale sky outside began to churn steadily and grow darker and darker as if being swallowed by a rising maw of darkness. Frantically he felt behind him for the door handle, twisting and pulling but finding it resisting his desperate efforts to pry it open.
The cellphone in his pocket was going mad. Vibrating and shrieking a metallic and painful scream. Alfred tore it out of his pocket and threw it away from him, banging and kicking at the door.
"Don't bother. It's not like you'll have anywhere to run." The man warned him. He was now sitting down and sliding backwards onto the bed until his back was to the wood headboard. Alfred stared dumbly at the links of metal chains and manacles that slipped out of the cuffs of the man's pants and jacket that were attached to each limb, the ends of the chains appearing to have been torn away from some sort of mounting. The silver metal contrasted sharply with the shabby pair of loosely tied boots, loose black jeans that had open slits along the thighs, knees and calves. He was nearly swallowed by the worn black jacket that was clearly two sizes too large, the shirt underneath the jacket clean but an unimpressive slate gray. Catching how Alfred's attention was on the manacles around his wrists, the man grinned slightly and raised his arms above his head, the chains clinking softly.
"Your sins and fears bind you."
Alfred pressed back against the door, the container in his hand falling from slack fingers. "What the hell are you?"
A small laugh.
"My apologies. My manners have been of little use over such a period of time, that I forget myself. I am Sin." He said, as the darkness spread through the windows and into the room, a tangible presence as it swallowed the two men whole with a whisper of noise that sounded like a sharp breathless exhale.
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James wasn't blind. On the contrary, he could see magnificently well even through the fabric. The material was really there in order not to scare away any humans that would possible enter into the realm of Silent Hill. It wouldn't do to ruin the surprise of what they would eventually face and challenge. With his vision, it was like the cloth wasn't even there. He could even see through the darkness that had settled throughout the room and building and that had settled throughout the entire town.
Only he was capable of moving between both realms unattended. His other companions could, if they really and truly desired. But they enjoyed the other area too much to leave it behind for the gray world unless James called out to them. They allowed him his leisure explorations as long as he never attempted to leave Silent Hill.
The human was huddled against the door, head darting in various directions, blind and unable to discern his surroundings. He wasn't able to witness the paint melting off of the walls to reveal slanted black metal or the pieces of rug ripping free from the ground and floating towards the ceiling. Steel grates appeared in the floor, a few lit softly by the bright fires that burned well below the surface of Silent Hill. The bed remained exactly the same while the drapes melted into slick and damp stretches of plastic that dripped down into pools of crimson upon the floor.
But James' attention was not on any of that, really. He was more focused on the limbs and torso that began to melt and reform in a far corner inside of the room. The familiar tall form, the butcher's apron boots and gloves, the bare chest that rippled with muscles and with the occasional old lacerations and scars. Pyramid Head stretched his body like he had awoken from a long sleep, arms stretched to the side and away from his body and right hand holding the long spear, the helmet arching back to reveal the yawning darkness at the bottom of the open helmet.
The human turned his head in the direction of the hollow exhales of air that Pyramid Head released when his body had completely formed. Pyramid Head moved soundless away from the human and towards James, the spear dropping to the ground with such a loud sound that the human jumped and cringed. The demon cared little about the human that had wandered foolishly into the trap, more focused on the man sitting upon the bed. James' venture through the town had left him wandering from the two for almost three days.
James smiled and fell back until he was flat on his back, head nestling into the nest of pillows. Sensing the other demon's intentions, he quickly and efficiently kicked off the loosely tied boots. The pants were loose enough that with a few twists of his hips and a certain degree of arching they slid past the hip bones and rested just above the patch of light curled hair.
The bed was made of strong resilient material to be able to hold not only James but also the other demon's heavier body. It was astounding how Pyramid Head's shoulders, neck and body easily supported and moved the large helmet with ease. The larger demon kept it from hitting James with quiet effort. James would have liked to have clasped the demon too him, as they were wont to do on many occasions, without the helmet. Sadly, it wasn't the time for that with a human being so close to them. The human wasn't nearly capable of handling the awe and magnitude of such as sight. He also didn't deserve to see it.
"Tell me." James whispered softly, too low for anyone other than the demon above him to hear, mouth close to the bottom of the helmet where another mouth was so temptingly close, "Did I do well? Have I brought a good one?" He asked, sliding his arms up and circling the broad shoulders.
Pyramid Head carefully ran a gloved hand over the swollen and damaged portion of James' face and mouth, fingers chasing and catching the fresh trickle of blood as it skated across pale skin. --YES.-- Pyramid Head answered.
James sighed, letting his head fall back and turn into the hand pressed against his face as a firm body slid between loose jeans. The demon's other hand slid down to tug the black jeans and briefs down far enough that James was able to untangle one leg while the other limb lay bound by the constricted fabric. A small sound of need and expectation mewled from the smaller man as his hips were arched back so that Pyramid Head could slide further into the cradle of his thighs, the material of the apron slick and smooth against the sensitive inner flesh.
His head arched as he was penetrated with the firm press of the demon's hand, the rocking motion smooth and solid without causing unnecessary pain. Discomfort was little, unless the need was too great and demanding. James' body was always eager and ready for the heat and the touch. It was all necessary and willing; it was what he craved, what they all had and craved.
Life was good. Really good.
The apron was nearly thrown off and curled over Pyramid Head's hip and thigh as he too began to fall into the thrall of flesh and heat. It wasn't long before the hand pulled back and something much larger and more persistent steadily pushed past the ring of muscle that guarded James' entrance. A firm and long lunge forward and Pyramid Head was buried deep, James' thighs quivering and clutching tight to a firm waist.
Mouth open in an expression of wonder James' hands clenched and anchored onto the shoulders above him, arching as a firm hand cradled his lower back to hold him steady. The chains attached to James' ankles trailed down the back of Pyramid's uncovered flanks and the chains attached to the smaller man's wrists trailed down his upper arms.
--SAY IT.--
-- EVEN IF YOU SAY IT ABOVE OR BENEATH ME.-- (1)
James groaned softly from a hard and electric thrust, his entire body jolting from the motion. "I-I- I'm here. I'm where I'm supposed to be."
--SAY IT.--
"I'm real." James said, dots of fine sweat breaking across his skin. "I won't run away anymore. I've accepted who I am."
Pyramid Head stilled for a moment. The pause made James twist and writhe beneath him, hands tugging persistently, wordless demanding him to move. He took delight in the way James called out to him, to them, just as they called to him.
It had all become so perfect.
Amazing what could happen when one simply stopped fighting the inevitable.
--YES.-- His voice was a hiss of pleasure. He met James' gaze from under the helmet, sulfurous eyes meeting another. Giving in finally he leaned down further to allow James to reach up and hold tightly to him while his own arms circled the smaller form until they were both bound within flesh and chains and cloth.
It felt right, but another was missing. Soon, though, that too would change.
--AND NOW…MY BROTHER WILL PLAY.-- He promised.
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The room had become some sort of nightmare.
Alfred was pressed so firmly into the sealed door that he could feel splinters digging into him through the cloth of his suit jacket.
'What the fuck is this?!' He demanded. No answer came.
His vision was poor but he could finally begin to see in rough detail what was occurring, nowhere near as capable as James was though. The room had melted and reformed into something twisted and a mockery of anything decent and sane. The damn floor was gone in areas where only metal grating kept him separated from some sort of hellish fire that was burning below. The walls were cold to the touch but parts were damp and crumbling. Alfred quickly drew his hands away, trying to rub the filth off of him.
He had to be hallucinating.
There was no way any of this was real.
"……aaaa….haaaaa!!…Aaaahh…." Someone made a long drawn out sound of tension that ended in a low moan.
Alfred squinted, the dim light offering only minimal visual. The sound had come from where the freak had sat when the strange darkness had suddenly risen and consumed the room.
Something else from the same general area rumbled low like an echo across rough metal. A loud sound of something slick and heavy smacking into flesh and this time the voice from early almost screamed.
"HHnnn…st-stop tormenting me…" The voice from before begged with a thread of annoyance.
Dark rumbling laughter echoed the command.
'What the hell?'
Groping blindly Alfred checked his pockets, pushing past the nearly empty packet of cigarettes until he found the familiar smooth finish of his lighter. Jerking it free he flicked the starter several times until a steady flame rose from the tip, illuminating the nearly pitch black room with a warm gold glow.
He wished he hadn't.
The freak, 'Sin', was still upon the bed. But now he was disheveled and half-naked, jacket and shirt shoved up to create a pillow under his head. Jeans and briefs twisted around one leg with the other was bare except for one sock. The man's head was thrown back mouth open and panting deeply and hands gripping tight onto shoulders--
--Hanging onto some THING--
God, it couldn't possibly be human. The body was that of a man, maybe, but that, that, contraption on the head. The build on it was too large and massive to be attained by natural means. Whatever it was, beast, man, or demon, it had the smaller man pinned flat to the bed as it rocked and shoved itself tightly forward between pale strong legs and thighs.
It was like animals rutting. How two bodies, male bodies at that, could even fit and move against one another in such a manner without pain or blood being spilled between them…
The pace seemed to stutter and then quicken, the beast above leaning further down until its chest was pressed along the other's, one last and steady lunge before flanks and buttocks clenching tight and hips rocking in small tight circles. The freak's mouth was pressed firmly into the neck of the one above it, burrowing as close as possible and arms winding loosely around shoulders and neck. He was panting raggedly, a look of bliss on his face with eyes still masked by the dark strip of fabric but hardly hiding the wonder and look of fulfillment.
"Oh..fuck.." Alfred moaned in horror, clapping a hand over his mouth to hold back possible sickness.
The stupidity of his words was soon realized.
The two figures stilled, the large pyramid shaped head turned to the side as if to regard him, but Alfred could 'sense' the eyes that bore into him with a heavy weight that threatened to make his heart stop. A hand came down to brush the area where bruised flesh and bleeding lips were upon the male beneath him-
But wait. That wasn't true. The wounds upon the freak's face were gone, skin untainted and unmarked.
Apparently the demon hadn't forgotten the marks and was absolutely aware of who had brought them down upon the pale flesh.
"No. No." The freak stopped the demon from rising as it rose to kneel on its knees, bringing it back down to stretch over him and press him down into the mattress. "I know how badly you want to. But you both agreed. It's his turn now. You've got to be fair." A shift of a body and covered eyes regarded Alfred with flat but full intensity. "He won't escape."
As if waiting for a cue from the freak, the door behind Alfred was suddenly gone, torn clean off of its hinges. The crash of breaking and shattering wood echoed around him as he fell back. Just as quickly as he had been falling he was shoved forward and sent sprawling ungainly onto the floor inches away from open grating. He was stretched on his stomach limbs askew and trembling from the force of the blow that had shoved him further into the room.
Heavy footsteps thundered into the room to stop near his head, something large being scrapped and dragged across the floor. Shakily and ever so slow Alfred turned his face to the side and upwards, tracing the heavy dark boots, up the slick apron that was wrapped and knotted around the hips of a long and flat bare waist. The torso extended up to broad shoulders and long arms, neck instead disappearing into a familiar pyramid helmet.
Unable to believe his eyes Alfred whipped his gaze from the large bed in the room and back to the figure standing above him. Two. Two, two, there were more of these things.
This one offered a greater threat. In its right hand and between them, it bore a massive and long blade nearly as tall as it was. The great head was tilted down to face the fallen human.
Alfred's mouth opened and closed soundless, too stunned to speak, frozen and paralyzed in his terror.
"These two have been eager for someone like you to arrive." Sin offered helpfully. A hand stroked lazily along the arm of the male above him. "It must be hard for you to think or look upon them. If it's easier for you, since humans have such a need to give everything a name, you may refer to him.." He indicated the one pressed against him. "As Beast. And him…" Now motioning towards the one standing above and near his head, "As Fiend."
The one nearest to him shifted, and a voice rumbled from within the helmet and seemed to sink and twist his way into the interior of his skull.
ALFRED.
ALFRED COLLINS.
Alfred's limbs twitched, a sign that he was contemplating the possibility of fleeing for his life.
THERE IS NO ESCAPE.
--YOU HAVE ONLY MADE IT HARDER FOR YOURSELF, AFTER WHAT YOU DID TO ONE OF OUR OWN.--
Acid rose from his stomach as he remembered.
//Alfred's hand that was holding the empty gas canister whipped around and slammed into the side of the bent figure's head. The man emitted a muffled gasp of surprise, stumbling to his knees and then falling onto his side. A trembling hand cradled the side of his face where the bruise was most likely beginning to spread while his flesh swelled with the fevered mark of a sharp impact.//
"I--I…what is going on…? This isn't real, right? This, this place…It's Hell. It's got to be!" Albert babbled hysterically, shaking and trembling.
IT IS WHATEVER YOU BELIEVE IT TO BE.
BUT THE TIME FOR QUESTIONS IS PAST, ALFRED. YOU HAVE BEEN JUDGED BY OUR OWN, SIN. HOW DO YOU ANSWER?
"Fuck, fuck, fuck. This isn't happening. You have no right to hold me here. I don't belong here!!!"
--YOUR DENIAL BRINGS UPON THE INEVITABLE.--
"Do you see, Alfred?" Sin asked the trembling human upon the floor. When the human looked up towards him, Sin raised a hand, fingers circling the band of fabric around his head. With a sharp tug the material fell to pool within his lap. His eyes were closed, but Alfred lay spellbound as the eyelids purposely opened and finally stared straight back unhidden and aware.
Sulfurous pale-green light, a miasma a burning fire of intense heat, stared back at the human. Sin smiled, more of a snarl with just a baring of his teeth, "Do you see?" He demanded. "You came here, and now you can't escape us and you can't deny what you are." His hand flexed around the arm in his grip as he leaned forward towards the human's direction, "Do you see?!" He hissed. "Do you see what you bring upon yourself. Your words bind you to your fate!"
The demon standing above Alfred bent down, minutely. A hand slowly and inescapably began to fill the entire range of his vision, reaching towards him. There was no means of escape. It was as final and as cold as Death.
The voice held no mercy as it spoke while promising many horrors that made Alfred curl up into a ball, covering his head and screaming wordless against the floor.
TELL ME WHEN IT HURTS. The demon proffered to the mortal man.
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the end
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Author's note: Not near as good as I had hoped, but I give myself two out of five, for effort at least.
(1) That line? Comes roughly from a song/poem I wrote a while back. It's stored in my memories on my livejournal, but unfortunately only Friends can read it.