Author's Note: This story takes place less than a year after the events of SH1 and either before
or just after the events of SH2. In other words, long before SH3. If you liked SH3, you will like
this story. If you wished that Heather's adventure had been more like James Sunderland's, then
you will love this story. I hope.
Prologue: Nightmare
0:
They stood guard at the Door of Fate, the three children of god.
Two were the same; demons red with blood from victims long forgotten, heavy set and
thick of muscle and bone. Heads huge metallic pyramids, they had no eyes yet saw with perfect
vision the darkest secrets of her soul. Each held a different weapon, one an enormous butcher's
knife that glistened in the shifting firelight of the torch she held high. The other had a long spear
of ancient pain, its sharp point glinting dully.
Though blind of human sight, they saw her nonetheless. They had no mouths, yet she
would have sworn before anyone's god or demon that each torturer's soul was smiling down
upon her as she passed between them.
Around her neck, the seal of Metatron, shimmering with holy might, seemed to grow
heavier with every step she took closer to the third dark child.
It writhed in a state of fasciculation; its misshapen, white bloody head jerking uncontrollably
and grotesquely. Standing nearest the door upon a raised platform, the monster twitched madly,
making thin noises that were barely audible even as she neared to within a meter.
She could not be sure if this thing before her had eyes or a mouth nor could she be certain
of any other sensory organs. It convulsed and shivered too rapidly. Like the Pyramid Heads
now just behind her, she sensed that a smile lurked somewhere within its featureless countenance.
With one quivering hand, it reached out toward her, beckoning her closer.
She came, stepping upward, joining the thing called Valtiel upon the platform.
Still shivering violently, as if eternally in the throes of a dark malevolent passion, it reached
forth and touched her face. An involuntary shudder ran throughout her. Being touched by this
thing made her instantly queasy, though that was only a result of a revulsion at the very sight of it.
She held still as best she could as it traced the lines of her cheeks, explored her small, pert nose,
rubbed gently the closed lids of her eyes. It caressed each feature then moved on until finally
Valtiel pressed a finger against her sealed lips and seemed to shudder with laughter as its
head jerked faster and faster.
At last, it stepped away from the Door of Fate.
The door was decorated beautifully with filigree of gold and silver and a third metal that
she could not identify. In torchlight, it was a sight to behold, one to inspire sonnets. It was a
vision of unimaginable and indescribable purity at the center of the eternal night and monstrously
distorted nightmare world she walked in.
At its center was a circular indentation.
She froze. The seal that protected her was also the key to opening the path.
Turning completely around, she saw the Pyramid Heads. They stood no longer as guardians
but as wolves blocking a trail. Their weapons were at the ready. If she tried to run, they would
rend her body to pieces.
Again, she was certain they were laughing without mouths or sound.
Closer and beside the door, Valtiel had begun to turn one of the multitudes of valves she'd
seen all throughout this dark, unholy world.
Inside the tattered coat she wore, her radio blared to life and thundered static.
There was no time left to think or fear.
She tore the seal of Metatron from her neck and, as the Pyramid Heads behind her lunged
forward, shoved it into the door. Light bled out from it and coursed over the wires of precious
metals like living serpents of electricity. The door began to swing outward ponderously as she
dove sideways, narrowly avoiding a stabbing thrust of one Pyramid's savage knife. Her torch
clattered to the corrugated steel floor and flickered out. A glow shorn from the crack between
the vast door at its jamb as it opened.
The first Pyramid Head swung again, trying to decapitate her as she went to her knees
painfully. Next came its twin with spear held high. She saw it coming but there was no hope.
The point flashed forward with such speed that nothing human could have dodged, yet she didn't
taste its suffering.
A warm light was slowly piercing the deep dark of the ancient corridor. As the sharped
barb came in contact with that almost tangible brilliance, it melted away like a dying dream. She
watched this with wide, stunned eyes.
Perhaps the Pyramid Head was stunned as well, for it drew back the spear and then
stepped away from her, brandishing the now blade-less pole like she would have a long length of
heavy metal pipe. Its twin turned back too, dragging its knife on the ground as it moved. Each of
the torturers strode back to the places they had held before, returning to their guardian positions.
As they moved deeper into unctuous shadow, the spear head reformed.
She looked sideways and saw that their sibling demon stood fearlessly at the edge of
glimmering light. It convulsed, coming forward. As it entered the brilliance, its flesh began to
steam. The creature was cooking with each step, its flesh sloughing off. Unable to keep watching
this macabre suicide for its god, she turned and dove through the Door of Fate and then jerked it
closed with both hands.
Outside, a faint sound of anguish.
She clamped both hands over her ears and wept until it ended.
She'd dropped the torch outside, lost it, but that did not matter for the room was suffused
with that same holy gleaming that foiled the Pyramid Heads. Gazing about her, she started to
laugh. "You were wrong!" She screamed to someone now dead. "This is exactly where I
wanted to go. This is paradise."
Turning about in the vast chamber, bathed in light, she wept freely and laughed.
At the edge of her conscience, something itched in her thoughts.
Her smile froze and began to melt.
She could hear something faint. A noise, very weak. "Oh no." With a trembling hand,
she reached into the coat enshrouding her body, wrapping her delicate fingers around the radio.
Staring down at it, the now familiar sound of static began rising. "No. Nothing evil could enter
this place. This is paradise, damn it!" Angry, terrified, she dropped the radio and started
searching for another way out of the Shining Room.
The walls were covered with plates of strange metal and thousands of engraved murals
depicting angelic protectors. Beneath her feet were laid tiles of gold and silver, and each and
every one marked with the seal of Metatron. Across the room, an enormous pool of crystalline
water was imbedded, its contents gently moving in time with the movements of an enormous orb
that hung high above, casting no shadow but instead pouring light down on every surface.
There were no more doors. No portals. Nothing that seemed a puzzle to solve, no statues
to manipulate to reveal a hidden passage, no levers, switches, or valves.
No way out save the way she had come.
No escape lay behind her, only death.
As the static grew louder, she drew closer to the pool. She gazed down and saw no end
to its depths. Nothing evil could possibly have lived in waters of such clarity. The walls reflected
the light from the orb over head, the same light that burned Valtiel and dissolved a Pyramid
Head's spear head like it was a blot of butter on a star's surface. How could anything reach her
here? She felt her breath catching in her throat with every inhalation, there was something she
was missing, some secret.
Suddenly, the floor beneath her feet trembled.
Terror flooded her as she fell, cracking her head against the edge of the pool. She hadn't
stopped it after all. From the chambers far below, from out of a darkness born from sin and
depravity, god was rising.
"It isn't fair." She whispered through tears. "I tried so hard."
The floor bulged upward. White membranous filaments exploded through the cracks
forming between gold and silver plates. They did not sizzle in the light. Eyes erupted from them,
corrupted, bloody things that stared down at her with infinite contempt.
A great fist erupted from one side of the bulge, then another heaved upward, casting aside
the seal inscribed floor. Metal sharply clanged against metal as it came forth. God was born forth
from abyss, from the dystopia of the unholy elsewhere. Roaring in pain, the sound so terrible that
it deafened her instantly, it glared down upon her with infinite hate and malevolence. More
filaments oozed out of the orifices where a mouth should have been.
They shot forward as she screamed.
or just after the events of SH2. In other words, long before SH3. If you liked SH3, you will like
this story. If you wished that Heather's adventure had been more like James Sunderland's, then
you will love this story. I hope.
Prologue: Nightmare
0:
They stood guard at the Door of Fate, the three children of god.
Two were the same; demons red with blood from victims long forgotten, heavy set and
thick of muscle and bone. Heads huge metallic pyramids, they had no eyes yet saw with perfect
vision the darkest secrets of her soul. Each held a different weapon, one an enormous butcher's
knife that glistened in the shifting firelight of the torch she held high. The other had a long spear
of ancient pain, its sharp point glinting dully.
Though blind of human sight, they saw her nonetheless. They had no mouths, yet she
would have sworn before anyone's god or demon that each torturer's soul was smiling down
upon her as she passed between them.
Around her neck, the seal of Metatron, shimmering with holy might, seemed to grow
heavier with every step she took closer to the third dark child.
It writhed in a state of fasciculation; its misshapen, white bloody head jerking uncontrollably
and grotesquely. Standing nearest the door upon a raised platform, the monster twitched madly,
making thin noises that were barely audible even as she neared to within a meter.
She could not be sure if this thing before her had eyes or a mouth nor could she be certain
of any other sensory organs. It convulsed and shivered too rapidly. Like the Pyramid Heads
now just behind her, she sensed that a smile lurked somewhere within its featureless countenance.
With one quivering hand, it reached out toward her, beckoning her closer.
She came, stepping upward, joining the thing called Valtiel upon the platform.
Still shivering violently, as if eternally in the throes of a dark malevolent passion, it reached
forth and touched her face. An involuntary shudder ran throughout her. Being touched by this
thing made her instantly queasy, though that was only a result of a revulsion at the very sight of it.
She held still as best she could as it traced the lines of her cheeks, explored her small, pert nose,
rubbed gently the closed lids of her eyes. It caressed each feature then moved on until finally
Valtiel pressed a finger against her sealed lips and seemed to shudder with laughter as its
head jerked faster and faster.
At last, it stepped away from the Door of Fate.
The door was decorated beautifully with filigree of gold and silver and a third metal that
she could not identify. In torchlight, it was a sight to behold, one to inspire sonnets. It was a
vision of unimaginable and indescribable purity at the center of the eternal night and monstrously
distorted nightmare world she walked in.
At its center was a circular indentation.
She froze. The seal that protected her was also the key to opening the path.
Turning completely around, she saw the Pyramid Heads. They stood no longer as guardians
but as wolves blocking a trail. Their weapons were at the ready. If she tried to run, they would
rend her body to pieces.
Again, she was certain they were laughing without mouths or sound.
Closer and beside the door, Valtiel had begun to turn one of the multitudes of valves she'd
seen all throughout this dark, unholy world.
Inside the tattered coat she wore, her radio blared to life and thundered static.
There was no time left to think or fear.
She tore the seal of Metatron from her neck and, as the Pyramid Heads behind her lunged
forward, shoved it into the door. Light bled out from it and coursed over the wires of precious
metals like living serpents of electricity. The door began to swing outward ponderously as she
dove sideways, narrowly avoiding a stabbing thrust of one Pyramid's savage knife. Her torch
clattered to the corrugated steel floor and flickered out. A glow shorn from the crack between
the vast door at its jamb as it opened.
The first Pyramid Head swung again, trying to decapitate her as she went to her knees
painfully. Next came its twin with spear held high. She saw it coming but there was no hope.
The point flashed forward with such speed that nothing human could have dodged, yet she didn't
taste its suffering.
A warm light was slowly piercing the deep dark of the ancient corridor. As the sharped
barb came in contact with that almost tangible brilliance, it melted away like a dying dream. She
watched this with wide, stunned eyes.
Perhaps the Pyramid Head was stunned as well, for it drew back the spear and then
stepped away from her, brandishing the now blade-less pole like she would have a long length of
heavy metal pipe. Its twin turned back too, dragging its knife on the ground as it moved. Each of
the torturers strode back to the places they had held before, returning to their guardian positions.
As they moved deeper into unctuous shadow, the spear head reformed.
She looked sideways and saw that their sibling demon stood fearlessly at the edge of
glimmering light. It convulsed, coming forward. As it entered the brilliance, its flesh began to
steam. The creature was cooking with each step, its flesh sloughing off. Unable to keep watching
this macabre suicide for its god, she turned and dove through the Door of Fate and then jerked it
closed with both hands.
Outside, a faint sound of anguish.
She clamped both hands over her ears and wept until it ended.
She'd dropped the torch outside, lost it, but that did not matter for the room was suffused
with that same holy gleaming that foiled the Pyramid Heads. Gazing about her, she started to
laugh. "You were wrong!" She screamed to someone now dead. "This is exactly where I
wanted to go. This is paradise."
Turning about in the vast chamber, bathed in light, she wept freely and laughed.
At the edge of her conscience, something itched in her thoughts.
Her smile froze and began to melt.
She could hear something faint. A noise, very weak. "Oh no." With a trembling hand,
she reached into the coat enshrouding her body, wrapping her delicate fingers around the radio.
Staring down at it, the now familiar sound of static began rising. "No. Nothing evil could enter
this place. This is paradise, damn it!" Angry, terrified, she dropped the radio and started
searching for another way out of the Shining Room.
The walls were covered with plates of strange metal and thousands of engraved murals
depicting angelic protectors. Beneath her feet were laid tiles of gold and silver, and each and
every one marked with the seal of Metatron. Across the room, an enormous pool of crystalline
water was imbedded, its contents gently moving in time with the movements of an enormous orb
that hung high above, casting no shadow but instead pouring light down on every surface.
There were no more doors. No portals. Nothing that seemed a puzzle to solve, no statues
to manipulate to reveal a hidden passage, no levers, switches, or valves.
No way out save the way she had come.
No escape lay behind her, only death.
As the static grew louder, she drew closer to the pool. She gazed down and saw no end
to its depths. Nothing evil could possibly have lived in waters of such clarity. The walls reflected
the light from the orb over head, the same light that burned Valtiel and dissolved a Pyramid
Head's spear head like it was a blot of butter on a star's surface. How could anything reach her
here? She felt her breath catching in her throat with every inhalation, there was something she
was missing, some secret.
Suddenly, the floor beneath her feet trembled.
Terror flooded her as she fell, cracking her head against the edge of the pool. She hadn't
stopped it after all. From the chambers far below, from out of a darkness born from sin and
depravity, god was rising.
"It isn't fair." She whispered through tears. "I tried so hard."
The floor bulged upward. White membranous filaments exploded through the cracks
forming between gold and silver plates. They did not sizzle in the light. Eyes erupted from them,
corrupted, bloody things that stared down at her with infinite contempt.
A great fist erupted from one side of the bulge, then another heaved upward, casting aside
the seal inscribed floor. Metal sharply clanged against metal as it came forth. God was born forth
from abyss, from the dystopia of the unholy elsewhere. Roaring in pain, the sound so terrible that
it deafened her instantly, it glared down upon her with infinite hate and malevolence. More
filaments oozed out of the orifices where a mouth should have been.
They shot forward as she screamed.