A/N: Here it is, my new multichapter story. I hope you enjoy it. I've put a lot of work into it. If you'd like to see more, pop in a little review to remind me to add the new chapter. Thanks xxx
DISCLAIMER FOR FULL STORY: I do not own Silent Hill or Pyramid Head, or the nurses. Everything else is mine, unless you recognise it.
Within Silent Hill
Flesh oozed from beneath the blade.
The butchered meat was alive with maggots and feasting cockroaches, festering as it lay in the dark basement. Blood oozed from the body to the iron floor. Drop by drop. Little by little. Purging the last of the life within.
Faint groans emitted from the victim's dry throat. What remained of its face was strapped tight in mouldy bandages, barely containing the twitching muscle beneath. Even so, the creature fought for release. It didn't know that all hope was gone, drained away with the last of its crimson fluids. The poor thing pleaded in cracked sobs, hands upturned beseechingly to the light. It was begging for mercy.
The Executioner released a grating, mirthless chuckle at the mere thought of such a thing.
Mercy? That word was obsolete. It was a lie, a tale for children, a fairytale.
Only the truly damned would dare make such a pitiful request in his presence.
For he had no mercy.
Hands gripped rotting thighs, hips thrusted in shattered spaces. Screams died within mouldering meat. Pleasure was taken where pain was wrought and loathing made love with hate.
Welcome to Silent Hill, my friends.
Here, the nightmare begins.
* * *
He came from the darkness, a pale streak in the gloom. Tears crusted on a colourless face, blood congealed in dishevelled hair. He looked a mess, a miserable, godforsaken mess. It would be no surprise to anyone who saw him that he did not have long left in this realm of living. It was an inescapable fact.
It was such a shame.
He was so young, so pathetic, scarcely into his twenties yet already aged with trauma. His grubby forehead was crisscrossed with lines, and shadows hugged his lids. These factors, along with the filth upon him, made him a truly wretched sight. But his eyes were most dismal of all. Their bloodshot whites stretched wide in the car headlamps, pupils wide and empty. They flicked to and fro in his sockets with intense paranoia. It was obvious that he was afraid of being followed… or hunted down.
When he eventually reached the end of the sidewalk, the young man ceased his desperate run. Standing there alone he gathered himself together, taking long deep breaths and running his hands through pale hair. His expression, sorrowful as it was, echoed that of an abandoned child: lost, isolated, hopeless.
He waited there, sad and solitary, until the road before him was a seething mass of vehicles.
Then he stepped out amongst them.
Entire chaos broke out. There was an ear-splitting crash of metal on metal and tyres screeched, glass shattering over the tarmac. Exhaust filled the air. Women screamed. Crowds pushed forth. There were so many people rushing to the scene that the traffic was forced to grind to a complete halt. But at first, the extent of the accident could not be seen through the smoke rising from the wreckage. However, it gradually cleared to uncover a truly gruesome sight. The road flowed with blood and mangled flesh, peppered with the occasional hanks of grisly hair.
But of the unkempt young man there was no sign.
After a baffled silence, a child's voice piped up innocently.
"Where'd he go, Mommy?"
* * *
Dreams
I walk my nightmare as if reliving a memory.
I am, in a way, give or take a few details.
The world is black and white, like all my dreams, but I know the young girl beside me wears a stark red dress. Blood red. I admire its prettiness openly, stroking the smooth material with one hand. The girl preens and flicks honeyed curls over her shoulder, lashes aflutter. She's pretty too- dangerously so. Every move she makes has the grace of a delicate princess. She's almost painful to behold.
"You are so beautiful," I murmur. I reach out a hand, touching her silken cheek. "You know that, right?"
The pretty one giggles, her lips a pout of mirth. I feel the strong urge to touch them, kiss them, devour them. But I do not show it. The only outward sign of my burning need is a slight shaking she hasn't noticed.
"Look at you," I continue. "You're flawless."
Laughter comes again. The girl is flattered by my adoration. Blushing modestly, she takes my hand in hers and fondles it. Her touch sends sparks down my spine, setting my body alight. I bring her pale palm to my lips and kiss it rapturously. The girl smirks. Even that small gesture makes her features glow.
I kiss her hand again, then again. I cannot help myself. My mouth moves up her wrist, arm, and shoulder. Lovingly, feverishly tasting her flesh.
The girl tilts her head and moans in self-indulgent pleasure. To me, the sound is perfection. It drives me insane. Almost greedily, I kiss the hollow of her throat and flick my tongue across her collarbone. My friend spasms with ecstasy and encircles my neck with her slim arms. She wants more… as do I.
Continuing with my caresses, I carry the girl across to the bed and lay her upon it.
"Jewel," I say plainly. That one word states everything I want to say.
"Well, I love you too," Jewel responds, and pulls my head down to hers. Our lips meet innocently, but soon move into something more adult. Tongues touch, hands fumble, breath quickens. My fists tangle in her vanilla hair. In my passion I bite Jewel's lower lip and pierce the skin. But she licks the blood sensually away. I shiver. Unable to restrain myself any longer, I part her legs and slide my hand between them. I feel the warmth and arousal there.
Jewel arches her back. I see a crystal tear squeeze out and brush it away.
"You're an angel," I gasp into her ear. My fingers entwine tenderly with hers. "Look at yourself. Go on."
Both of us turn towards the mirror on the opposite wall. It reflects a girl barely into her teens and a very young man. Both pairs of eyes are shining with carnal hunger. We smile at this wanton image, admiring it together. I think it's beautiful.
But then something terrible happens.
In the mirror, Jewel's cherubic face greys like ash and her mouth gapes wide in an almost reptilian fashion. Those doll-like cheeks of hers are marred with an ugly crust of yellowed tears.
I am appalled beyond words. My eyes flicker with horrified enthralment across Jewel's reflection, stopping dead at her sinuous neck. A brutal slit is ripping across her jugular. Steaming blood splashes out onto the bedclothes. As I watch speechlessly, the girl's head flops back. Dead. Repulsed, I glance back to the real Jewel and gag in disgust. She is as maimed as her grisly image.
Sweat breaks out on my forehead. I clamber rapidly from Jewel's body with closed eyes, hoping it is an illusion. But it's not. When I look again, her thighs are splayed lewdly apart to unveil her mangled girlhood.
"Oh my god," I moan, feeling my guts squeeze. Jewel's limp head is straightening itself. The once sweet expression twists as she smiles sickeningly at me. Then she parts her rosebud mouth and screams.
* * *
A Strange Place
The young man jerked awake with a sharp gasp. His shook his head groggily from side to side, groaning heavily. The whole of his body ached and he felt cramped and uncomfortable. He didn't know where he was.
Something touched his mouth.
The man snapped his head round at once. He spotted a small figure crouching at his side and reared away immediately, back rammed up against a rough wall.
It was a little girl.
She peered at him shrewdly, dark eyes narrowed in the gloom. She had an unruly mane of black hair and an unhealthy complexion. This would have made her seem rather ordinary if her face had not been full of sly mischief.
"Hi," said the girl, flopping down beside him. "Nice to see you're awake. You've been out for at least half an hour."
"Um… Out? What do you mean?"
The man recalled the cars, the crash, the blinding lights. He remembered a huge vehicle hitting him head on at over 60. Gears screaming, horn blaring...
But he didn't know how it had happened, only that it had occurred.
I should have died, he thought. I'm lucky to be alive.
"Oh yeah," he mumbled. "Well, I'm awake now."
The girl grinned wickedly.
"I can see that. So what's your name, mister?"
"Sam," the man replied, feeling a little dazed. He sat up and grunted. "Sam Reeves. And… I hope you don't mind me asking, but who're are you?"
He paused, rubbing his forehead.
"And where the hell am I?"
The girl smiled, almost proudly.
I'm Alison," said the girl. "And this-"
She waved her arm majestically around the grubby room.
"-Is the town of Silent Hill."