Gehenna

Disclaimer: The very first Condemned fanfiction I have ever written! This one was inspired by replaying the first game and it carries on through the second. I hope you guys enjoy reading it. Please read and review if you so wish.

"Murder is not the crime of criminals, but that of law-abiding citizens."

-Emmanuel Teney

I wish that I could write you a melody so plain that would save your dear lady from going insane.

-Bob Dylan

By: VampireQueenAkasha

Ge·hen·na (g-hn) n.

1. A place or state of torment or suffering.

2. The abode of condemned souls; hell.

Prologue

Metro City

"The moon and stars to rule by night: for his mercy endureth for ever."

-Psalm Chapter 136:9

I was always told that good exists in everyone. That no one is born evil; it's something that it taught to us, bred into our minds at a young age, through systematic abuse, or even through unfortunate circumstance. It is in this that we bring out the monster that slumbers deep within our souls. It is so…amazing, horrible to reach that point where you find this festering thing living inside of you. Funny thing is … it looks just like you. It has your face…your body…your eyes; a sleeping, restless monster. It walks and sleeps, eats and lives just as you do.

It is horrible to fear the thing that you had once loved, to see the familiar and still fear the shadow behind it. Once the thing you love changes, you can never hope to bring it back. I never knew such fear until long ago when my own naivety ended my way of life.

I changed that day and that was when it touched me; the realization, the pain, the anger and the betrayal. I knew then at that day, that everyone has a monster. It waits beneath the surface of your skin, breathing, hungry to take over. I began to wonder after that … Will I ever be that girl again?

I was naive. So very naive.

O

A hand slowly, shakily begins to paint red on a rough, white wall. It is a graceful gesture, each brush stroke extracting, and then returning to paint more, dripping with the consistency of blood itself. A storm raged outside, and lightning flashed through the stained - glass windows, lighting the colors in a ghostly, eerie way. The hand it belonged to was a woman dressed in a black nightgown and robe and she was painting several red eyes on the wall. Her features were blank, almost devoid of every emotion. She continued to paint these frightening upside-down eyes on the living-room wall while a four - year old girl watched this from the doorway, terror in her eyes. A German Shepherd puppy stood at her side, whining softly, it ears flat against its head.

This was Nancy. Nancy Morello. Her mother, Sylvia Morello had been doing this for a long time and she hadn't slept in a while, even hours as far as the child could tell. It was like this task of painting the "scary eyes" was the most important thing in the world. She wished her father was still alive for him to stop her. When her mother did this stuff, she became scary.

"Mommy?" she said, quietly.

Sylvia halted for a moment and peered over at her daughter, or rather peered through her as if she wasn't even there. Her eyes were bloodshot and a bright green, flickering with a controlled madness that she seemed to be losing a hold on. "The sound ... " she whispered, her gray eyes as dark as pitch. "The sound ... I hear the sound. It shows me what I must do ... Through these eyes and the eyes of many ... It will show us ... the way."

Nancy flinched, as if she had been struck and took a step back. Her mother spoke scary things at night and she was doing it again. Nancy never heard the Sound like what her mother talked about, but it must have been important because her mother was always obsessed with it. She turned and walked away, shutting her ears as her mother began to laugh. It was a hollow sound, not at all amused, but it reminded the girl of evil. She had been brought up in a strong - enough religious household to know what evil was.

The sounds of her mother's raving grew louder as Nancy ran into her room and hid inside her closet. She reached up to a small chain connecting to a light switch, pulling it so that it bathed the tiny area with dim light. There was a scratching sound at the floor of the door and she opened it to let her puppy inside with her. She held the creature close for comfort and waited for her mother's fit to die down. Shivering against the cold and the thunder roaring outside, she peered at a small mirror across from her.

"Nancy ... Don't feel bad ... She's going to be fine ... "

The voice sometimes came to her whenever she had felt scared. Nancy didn't like it so much because there came a time when she felt that the voices weren't from the source of good; but she felt that it was all that she had sometimes. Whenever she would close her eyes, sometimes she would see the voice beside her in physical form. It looked like her and talked like her, but she knew that it wasn't. It was just a voice; a voice that came to help her feel a little less alone. It was a voice that had appeared when her father had died. She was only a baby when it had happened and yet despite that, she was afraid that she'd become scary, like her mother.

"Go to sleep ... " the voice soothed. "Tomorrow, we'll play … "

Nancy curled herself into a fetal position and rested her body against the cold, wooden floor, shivering and attempting to blot out the sounds of the world around her. The storm continued to rage outside, pattering against the rooftops in an almost soothing rhythm.