Blood-Red Butterflies
An Umineko/Silent Hill Crossover Fanfiction
By: strangedementia
Disclaimer: I do not own Umineko No Naku Koro Ni or Silent Hill. If I did they would probably be less depressing... and less good.
AN: My first fanfiction. It will probably be terrible, but this concept just won't leave my head. Please enjoy! :)
Edit: Since I'm a moron the disclaimer came out as rather insulting before I changed it, so I'm really sorry about that. Also...
Huge Spoilers for Umineko.
It's cold...
You are soaked...
Everything hurts...
There is salt in your mouth...
These are the only things that you are aware of for a while as you try to recover yourself.
Shivering badly from the cold, you manage to get on your back, so at the very least you won't be tasting dirt. After a while, during which you feel like you could never be warm again, you begin the somewhat arduous task of sitting up. Your body protests quite loudly, particularly your left shoulder which feels like it has been run through with a hot poker, but somehow, you do eventually manage it after what feels like several hours of unbearable pain.
Your eyes flutter open and you try to take stock of, well, anything really. You look down, and find that you're wearing a terribly thin set of cotton pyjamas, completely soaked with seawater, to boot. You hope that you will be able to find something much warmer than these at some point, but you don't have much hope. You find that you have washed up near a highway, and that's as much as you can tell at the moment since everything is covered in a thick, oppressive fog.
Very carefully, you try to stand. Your shaking body protests even more from the effort and your legs feel like soggy noodles. Still, at the very least, you can stand on your shaking feet, which is more than you expected if you could be honest with yourself. Walking is another story, and you can't manage more than an unsteady shuffle to and down the highway. Thankfully, after what feels like decades, your efforts are rewarded with a large sign.
It reads: Welcome to Silent Hill.
Suddenly, you're shivering from more than just the cold. You don't know why or what.
By the time you reach the town, your gait is a little stronger, but you also feel, if possible, even colder than before. Your pyjamas have not gotten any drier and alongside the fog is an unforgiving breeze that you managed to endure before, but now threatens to freeze you solid unless you find shelter, quickly. Several of the buildings look long abandoned, and could at least manage to stop the wind, but to your dismay, the first door you reach is not budging. You try another nearby, but that door is also firmly closed.
You try again and again, but every door is either locked tight or blocked by something inside. Your pyjamas are virtually frozen solid and you've stopped shivering, but your breathing is rapid and you feel like you could fall at any moment you're that exhausted. Just when you're starting to lose hope, you spot a wide open door nearby, attached to what appears to be a warehouse.
You eagerly run as fast as you can inside, closing the door behind you, finding a merrily burning campfire near which you see a bundle of men's clothing. Tears spring from your eyes as you warm up, tearing off your accursed pyjamas and, as quickly as you can, throwing on a pair of gloves, a white long-sleeved shirt, a grey hooded sweatshirt, blue jeans, winter boots and a black duffle coat with a flashlight tucked in it's front pocket, staying very close to the fire as you do so. Once you're warm enough, you begin to wonder where this fire came from. Could someone else have found this town? Would they be friendly? If so, could they help? Help with what, exactly? Question after question floats through your mind, none of which have any immediate answers.
After a long while, you are jolted out of your thoughts by the sound of static coming from somewhere deep inside the warehouse. You decide to investigate through the shelves, careful to keep your new flashlight on as the warehouse is rather dark. Still, you can't help but feel uneasy as you walk slowly through the dark quasi-hallways. Along with the constant sound of static, you also hear a very low and pained moan.
You find the source of the sounds... and are just barely able to suppress a scream of horror. A small, somewhat beat up radio was placed in the middle of what looked like an elaborate circle painted with blood, along with what you can only describe as a... monster lurking nearby.
Said creature looked ghastly; humanoid, but tall and lanky with grey, clammy skin. Where there might have been sexual organs, there was only mutilated, infected scar tissue. Rusted, thoroughly bloody barbed wire seemed to be spreading throughout it's body from an equally bloody hole where a human heart shoud have been. However, you find yourself, for some reason the most terrified by it's face, which was covered with a dirty, porcelain mask with no eyeholes, but a detailed feminine face with a blank expression.
Unfortunately, despite this lack of eyeholes, the creature manages to spot you and lunges at you! Luckily, you managed to dodge it, but it gets back up with a ghastly moan forcing you to run, picking up the curious radio in the process. Desperately, you run as fast as you can with the monster close behind, dodging through shelves and slowing it down with whatever heavy objects you could pull down behind you. Breathing heavily, you sprint past the campfire and only stop briefly to slam the door in the monster's face as hard as you could.
After a while, the radio stops shooting static and the monster is nowhere to be seen. You stop running, breathing heavily, in front of a rundown diner. You enter and go dive behind the counter in case the creature might come back. Still breathing heavily, you struggle to make sense out of what just happened. What was that? Why did you take the radio? Are there more like that monster in this town? Maybe that was why the town was abandoned.
While you're catching your breath, you see that one of the counter's cabinets' doors is ajar. You open it and find to your surprise a somewhat battered hand mirror. You look into it and looking back at you is a young, average looking Japanese girl in men's clothing with short brown hair that reaches the middle of her neck, rather pale skin whether naturally or from the cold you don't know, and fearful and somewhat teary dark blue eyes.
It is only after this, that you realize, you don't remember your name.