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Silent Hill 2 Fanfic

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Author Topic: Silent Hill 2 Fanfic  (Read 17254 times)
Mutou Yami
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« on: October 16, 2010, 02:44:59 pm »

Chapter Thirty-One
Not Your Mary

I was lost.

This place, whatever it was, it was like a maze, constructed without even the slightest semblance of logic. It of course didn’t help that I was locked in panic mode, and that I couldn’t really be bothered to remember which way I had come from before. I didn’t care about that. Wherever I went, it was away from the red pyramid thing, and that was what I cared about. It was all I cared about. The more distance, the better. That’s why I barrel-assed through this dirty old maze, heedless of what I might run into. For I knew, whatever might be in front of me couldn’t be any worse than what was behind me.

I quickly found that, in my terror, I inadvertently chose a new direction. That was okay, because there really wasn’t anything in the other direction anyway, except that place cordoned off with wire. What wasn’t okay was that my new yellow brick road led me right to another descent down a ladder. There was a sort of gorge torn out of the floor, and I had to climb down to span it. I could see in the distance where another ladder led back up out of the hole. And, since turning back wasn’t a viable option, I mounted the ladder. It was cold and damp, and every step I took rapped harshly against the old iron, sending a sharp report echoing about. As I lowered myself, the rotten old laminate floor disappeared, replaced by something a little more natural. This ladder was bolted to a wall of rock that was wet and well-worn to a fine shininess. The ladder had fifteen rungs, and on the fourteenth step my right shoe plunged into water up to my ankle, soaking my shoes once again. It was tepid and warm, and it had a faint chemical smell similar to what I noticed outside of Pyramid Head’s love bungalow, but not as strong or acerbic.

The distance between the two ladders, at least from above, didn’t seem that great, but the path wasn’t as direct as it seemed. I sloshed down the tunnel, trying to keep a steady pace so that I didn’t fall, but at the same time, trying to keep that pace as swift as I could manage, in case I was being pursued. I winced with every splash made by my footfalls, because I was straining to hear splashes from other sources, in case those sources happened to be mobile. As high-strung as I was, I might pick up on them before the radio did, and I’d take any advantage I could get ahold of right now. Of course, as high-strung as I was, I might also hear things where no things were to be heard, but I’d chance that. Too careful would trump not careful enough when situations like these came knocking.

The controlled pace was probably the safest I could manage, but my mind wanted me to go faster, not only to put even more distance between me and Pyramid Head, but because the water was very murky. The walls, though rough, were rather even, and so far, the ground beneath me was the same. I had to be careful not to land in a rut and twist or sprain an ankle. I also had to be careful to avoid falling into a deep rut or hole, because there would be no way of seeing it. The still waters were upset by my presence and movement, but they were also thick and full of sediment and runoff, and even though it wasn’t quite high enough to crest my knees, I could not see through it to terra firma. One false step and I-

My foot came down, and it did not rest against slippery rock, as I expected. It was slippery, but pliable, like soft rubber.

Or, like flesh.

I stumbled forward and landed hard on my knees. The momentum kept me going, and only by smarting my elbow on the rock face did I prevent cracking my noggin. My pants soaked up the water all the way up to my crotch, and on my sleeves past my elbows

All this nasty **** getting in my wounds

and the flaps of my jacket. I sprang to my feet, digging for the radio, terrified that I might have drowned it. It did take a dip, but not a long enough one to kill it. What a relief.

Or, would have been, except that it sprang merrily to life, as if to celebrate its survival. Just as it did, the murk exploded in motion as something tore through the shallows at an amazingly high rate of speed. It first aimed away from me, as though to avoid getting stepped upon once again. It thundered away for twenty feet or so, then came to a sudden, complete halt. I watched in fascination as it changed direction with lightning quickness and darted forward again, stopping this time with an audible thud as it struck the wall. It then came to a rest again. I kept my gaze on it, or rather, the spot where it stopped; whatever it was, it was submerged completely and I couldn’t tell what it was. Whatever it was, it was fast, much faster than I was, and if it came after me…

The thought didn’t even finish bouncing around my skull before I saw green water fountain around its resting spot, then watched with dumb horror as it raced straight towards me like a torpedo.

I darted to the side, trying to get out of its path, and I almost made it unscathed. The monster, whatever it was, struck my left foot as I was moving, but I leveraged against the wall and it didn’t upset my balance enough to knock me over. I decided it wasn’t prudent to waste the opportunity and I ran forward, keeping near the wall as I did.

The tunnel seemed damn near endless, made worse by the water. I felt like I was trying to run through drying cement, and my legs couldn’t go as fast as the rest of my body wanted them to. Finally, I saw the end of the tunnel. And when I did, my heart seemed to cannonball right into my scrotum.

Dead end!

But it wasn’t. My mind was fighting against my body and packed it in too quickly this time. A few more slushy steps brought another rusty red ladder into view, and the sight made my heart climb back into its designated seat. I lunged towards it. My arms pinwheeled for balance, and I looked like a ballroom dancer whose shoes were tied together.

I heard the funneling riptide slicing through the trench towards me as I laid my hands upon the cool steel, and a quick look behind confirmed it. I practically jumped onto the first rung, and I had to loop my entire arm around the strut to keep from falling back off. I quickly scrambled up a handful of rungs, hoping I was high enough to be safe, and I looked back down from my perch.

The monster struck the left strut of the ladder with fantastic force. It rattled and shivered, and I wrapped it with both arms in a bear hug, terrified that it would come unbolted and fall, depositing me back into the soup and the mercy of whatever was down there. The ladder shook, but it held, and stabilized after a moment. I climbed up, not wanting to tempt fate anymore.

The ladder brought me into a new area, one that seemed immediately bare of threats. I stepped off of the ladder and onto a dirt floor. It was a mostly-empty room walled in pitted old concrete. The only thing in the room was a large pedestal, and I went over to take a look.

It was a strange-looking thing, to be sure. A cube sat upon an iron hinge. Each side of the cube bore the face of a man, who sported a flowing beard and a stern, commanding gaze. It seemed to be made completely out of sandstone, except for the eyes. The piercing look came by way of colored jewels. Each face on each side had jewel eyes of different colors, and they all sparkled brilliantly against the light. Red, green, blue, and other colors too. All of them were doubtlessly precious stones. Even the iron hinge was trimmed with gold, though it seemed dimmer and less dazzling than the stones in the eye sockets. It was perched upon a square pedestal that was ornamented with ceramic engravings on each side, all of them in a queer sort of cartoonish style that was quite reminiscent of Aztec art. It was rather nice, if a little gaudy-looking. I left it alone.

Behind the little tableau was a portal to another room. This one looked considerably stranger. The walls, floor, ceiling, everything was paneled in thick steel plates, as if it were some kind of cubical battleship. It was completely unremarkable but for that. It was also a dead end. I felt like venting my disappointment, but what was the point? All I would get for my trouble was my own anger ricocheting back off of the walls and into my own ears. I walked back out into the first room, thinking about my next move.

I found myself staring into the eyes of the cubical tableau, and it gave me a bit of a start. The face looked like that of the Greek gods, Neptune or Zeus, or perhaps the classical interpretation of God Himself. I was brought up taught that God was loving and kind, if a little on the touchy side. This face didn’t show even the slightest trace of mercy or compassion. It looked like it was in a tightly-controlled state of rage and righteous fury. If this was the face of God, this wasn’t the God who saved us with gift of His son. This was the God who told Adam and Eve to throw on some clothes and get the hell out of Eden, the God that drowned the armies of the Pharaoh. I had to look away, it was creeping me out.

I saw the hinge that held the cube aloft, and I noticed that it seemed to allow for movement. I reached out and pushed the top of the cube until it turned completely. The display rumbled as I moved it. A much more powerful rumbling sounded from behind, and I turned on a dime to see why.

And I didn’t see anything except a blank concrete wall, where once there was a steel-plated chamber. Utterly fascinated, I turned the cube again. With the sound of a minor earthquake, the door reappeared, and the chamber along with it. And this time, there was another portal on the other side. I stepped into the chamber and passed through the other opening, trying not to think too hard about what I just experienced, and how flagrantly it violated the laws of physics. It wasn’t the first time that had happened since I got to Silent Hill, but it was certainly one of the more unique instances. The far portal led to a set of stairs, and I descended into the black.

It led into another room, this one considerably smaller, and similar in appearance to the long, twisted corridors from before. The room was divided by iron prison bars (just when I thought I’d seen the last of them). On my side was nothing but a few old seat-stools scattered about. On the other side was a dingy old bed and a chair with gaudy, floral cushions.

Sitting in that chair was a human being, an actual person. A woman. I saw her face, and she looked into mine with sleepy, interested eyes. Her face was smiling, but the eyes were not. Seeing that face made every system in my body go absolutely haywire, made my brain spin and cartwheel and dance the **** Charleston, because I was looking into the smiling, impossibly vibrant face of a woman I saw die just hours before, in the wet-fart basement of the medical center of the lower Hells, upon the spear of an executioner with a pyramid-shaped helmet.

Maria sat in that chair, perfectly healthy and sporting no signs of injury whatsoever. Her midriff shirt was spotless and her pale stomach had nothing to show except the small butterfly tattoo near her hip. I couldn’t even begin to think of what to say, but when my surprise and confusion forced my mouth and vocal cords into action, what came out was probably the most obvious.

“You’re alive!”

She said nothing, just smiled.

“Maria! I thought that thing, that red pyramid thing… he killed you! Are you hurt? You don’t look like you are but it was so horrible-looking and…

“I’m not hurt at all, silly,” she broke in, “I’m completely alright.” She outlined her body with her hands, illustrating the point. An obvious one.

“Completely alright? That Pyramid Head thing, it stabbed you! I saw it happen! I saw the spearhead come out the front of your body! There was blood everywhere, even on me!” I was way beyond incredulous and nearly hysterical, faced with the impossibility of what I was seeing.

“Stabbed me?” She laughed softly, as if being told something completely preposterous. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, James. I don’t remember that at all.”

“What do you mean you don’t remember?” I said, nearly at a shriek. “It was just a little while ago! You were dying! You were screaming my God damn name, for Christ’s sake! How do you not remember?

Her smile thinned, but didn’t disappear entirely. She looked at me with a sort of dull, stunning gaze. Looking at it made my limbs turn to jelly, and I slumped down on one of the stools. We looked at each other for a very long moment. I could find no words to say. In a world of absolute impossibilities, this one topped them all with whipped cream and a candy cherry. I know what I saw. I know what I remembered. I know she was gored by Pyramid Head, and in a very messy manner. I know the elevator door closed and that was the last I would see of her.

But was I wrong? She was sitting on the chair two feet in front of me, her legs at a tilted, very feminine angle. It was certainly a convincing argument that I was indeed wrong. But how? Why?

“James, honey,” she said, “Did something happen to you?” She paused for a moment, not long enough for me to give her an answer that I didn’t have anyway. “Did something happen after we got separated in that long hallway?”

Seperated?

“Are you confusing me with someone else?” Her voice was soft, but had that same subtle note of condescension she used to get me to allow her to tag along in the first place. “You were always so forgetful, you know. Do you remember that time, in the hotel?”

What the ****. I slumped forward, my confusion multiplying to the point where it was dulling my sense. Who was this?

“You told me you took everything,”, she continued, and her voice changed, altered somehow in a way I couldn’t explain but I could certainly catch. “But you forgot that videotape we made. Ha, I wonder if it’s still there?” Subtle and different. Different, like she wasn’t Maria at all, that perhaps…

“How do you know about that?” I asked, my voice sounding weak and dry, “Aren’t you… Maria?”

The pursed smile disappeared, winked out like a light. Her dreamy gaze hardened like ice as she stared me straight in the eyes for the first time.

“I’m not your Mary.” She said.

That’s it, that’s what I thought I heard. I thought I heard her speaking with Mary’s voice, about Mary’s memories. But how?

“Then you’re Maria?”

The smile returned, the light switch flicked back on. “I am. If you want me to be.”

I stood up and paced, with my forehead in my palms. My brow was hot. The brain was being overworked. “All I want from you is a straight answer!” I said, my confusion giving way to anger.

She stood, and leaned against the bars. Her head tilted to the side, playful and whimsical. My mind was being given a Muhammad Ali beating, but it all seemed like a terrifically funny joke to her, all the funnier because she was telling it to someone who couldn’t get the humor.

“It doesn’t matter who I am. I’m here for you, James. I’m only here for you.” She reached through the bars and touched my face, both hands resting on my cheeks. She massaged them softly. The sensation was at once comforting and maddening. “See?” she said, “I’m real. Don’t you want to touch me?” she asked, and her eyes commanded mine to keep step in a dance that she completely controlled. She reached behind my head, her fingers running through my hair and locking both of her hands together.”

All of the spit and fire in me was gone, the vacuum filled by more confusion, different confusion. This was the first real intimate touch I had felt in forever, to say nothing of the first implied request that I give in return. I felt completely drained and listless.

“I don’t know,” was all I could manage to say. She laughed, pulled her hands back through the bars and sat back down on the chair. Instead of sitting up straight as before, she leaned back a bit, crossing her legs and looking undeniably sexy. Did I want to touch her? I

“Come and get me, tiger,” she said, her voice sultry and satin. “Come over and get me. I can’t do a thing through these bars. They’d just get in the way.”

I looked at her for a second, completely unbelieving what I was she was asking me. Sex? Here? We’re at the threshold of hell and she wants to have sex with me? It had been so long since anyone had asked me that. It had been so long since I last made love to Mary, so damned long. I stayed true ever since. I never ended up in bed with another woman, there was no way I could allow it. And now, when I come looking for Mary, I finally get the chance come my way. It was all too much for me. I didn’t want to have sex. I didn’t want her in my arms. I didn’t even want her touching my face again. Something was seriously, truly **** up here, and it was her.

Or is it me?

I don’t know.


“Okay,” I said, “Stay right there. I’ll find a way over.” I spoke those words as if they were the first to ever come out of my mouth. They sounded very stuttered and short, as if I were practicing the English language. I did want to reach her, but I had no idea why. I had no idea what I wanted, and I had no idea how to settle a world that had, in the span of five minutes, become completely turned on its head. Nearly being gored by Pyramid Head was terribly frightening because it would have been a painful way to go. A woman offering sexual favors, a woman who looked too **** much like my wife, a woman who I know I saw die right in front of me hours earlier, that was terribly frightening too, in a much different way. With Pyramid Head, it was a matter of losing my life.

This? This was a matter of losing my mind, and right now my grip was more tenuous than ever before. This offended my notions of reality on a fundamental level, and I shuffled slowly out of the room, back towards the steel chamber, wondering when the last of my grip would slip. Wondering, perhaps, if it didn’t happen already.
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R.I.P. Paul Gray - April 8, 1972 – May 24, 2010.


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Long Live, Mr.Yamaoka Akira, The Silent Hill Legend.
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