Word from Fanfic Writer:
I do not own any of the story nor characters from Hellraiser, I did however write this fanfic entirely on my own and do hope you all enjoy it. Please be kind, this is my first work on this site and I hope you all enjoy it. I plan to put up more chapters in this one if it gets popular reviews. I'm not too educated in the deep information of Hellraiser so forgive me if I do not pull everything off just right. Enjoy!
Chapter One: Uncertain Mishaps
As the lonely breeze of a summer's day collided with rash swells of the Pacific San Francisco was left to it's own evening demise of perpetual storms and rain. Small boats and vessels came forth to the bay as tide swept low on the horizon. With the low howl of the torrent and billow of ship horns came distant chiming of church bells, their toll a mournful lament to the loss of an elderly soul.
Indeed it was the perfect day for a funeral, the darkening skies overhead and rain none too far off. One could almost feel the bitterness and sorrow within the air, almost touch it as if it were a playful mist in the breeze. Oh yes…it was the perfect day for a funeral…
An abrupt car alarm took the young woman from her daze, eyes gazing back over to the deceased cargo being lifted carefully into the hearse. What a pity it was…to lose a grandmother she hardly knew. If only Emily had been a bit older, perhaps then she would have been able to visit her grandmother a bit more often then just in summer days.
Shaking her head the girl reprimanded herself, there was nothing she could do now to fix old ends. The woman she had only known by letters and secret phone calls was gone and with her demise all she had left in her name was a little intricate box. Emily kept it close in her grasp, it was the only present the old woman had ever given to her. The last time they had met before this…
Being she was one of the few relatives who had shown up for the event Emily was allowed to ride in one of the first vehicles to leave, taking due care with the little box the whole time. Her grandmother was to be buried at an old family lot, one which Emily figured she too would find as home someday.
"I know those greedy estate men will come for just about everything I own and have... right down to the wedding band on my finger here…but I also know that you're a good girl…not like your family. I'll let you have this little box…you see, it was your grandfather's…he loved to travel. It was meant to be a music box…but you can only ever hear the tune if you find out how to open it…I've never been so clever to do such a thing…but perhaps you'll be able to. Oh…how I've always wanted to hear the tune…I bet it's the most wonderful lullaby in the world…"
The words of the old woman rang through Emily's head even as dirt was tilled over her grave. Out of all her grandmother had owned she knew the little keepsake was something of top priority to her…and the brunette knew she was close to solving it…if only the woman had stayed around long enough for her granddaughter to finish.
"You keep holding onto that thing as if it were going to be stolen from you" a voice rang out. Emily jerked her head to glance at he who had been watching her movements and let out a sigh.
"I know it doesn't mean much to you, Mark, but this is the only thing my grandmother left me." the young lady retorted.
"No need to get upset with me, I'm only the driver." the man took a step back, realizing how easily his friend could be hurt at the time.
"And I thank you for taking me, but I'm a bit far from wanting to hear the snide remarks of my roommate"
The blond sir tried to hold back his comments, seeing as how they were standing right over the old lady's grave. Letting a hand push back tousled hair he turned away and began heading back over to the car.
"I'll take that as a hint you need some alone time. Just call me when you want to be picked up, I'm heading back to the hotel room for a nap."
Emily was thankful for what kindness he let show as the car sped off and down a hill. She really did need some time alone. Moving her fingers over and over the intricate curves of the box she stared down at the grave with less than little movement. Minutes strolled by to an hour and some before the brunette realized the heavens above had begun to let out their own tears as rain.
"I wanted to stay longer…" she murmured, but turned and walked away. Even if the weather made bad company the hotel was no more than a few blocks down the road. Emily didn't want to wake up her already wearied roommate just for him to make a quick dash down the lane to get her. He'd done enough already.
"Besides, I could use the walk…"
It was with grim surprise that Emily found out how many bars were just down the hill from her grandmother's resting place. Rude, really considering that the cemetery had been there ages before all the new buildings were put up. Moving on she took glances in on the ones with opened doors, noting how cheerful the mood was inside. She was far from that bliss…in fact how could one find any bliss after they'd been to a funeral?
It occurred to her how long she had been standing in one of the doorways when two men kept glancing over at her and talking amongst their buddies. She abruptly picked up her pace and moved along, careful not to spy into the pubs again. The hotel was only a few more blocks away, wasn't it? She'd be glad to get off the streets in the increasingly bad weather…
Only, there was no chance for her to spy the building ahead, her left side heaved against, veering her into the nearby alleyway. She really had no time to scream, not that anyone would have heard her in the torrential wind. It was against the trashcans for her, plummeting onto the grimy surface of blacktop. Fear-filled eyes glancing up at her attackers she found only the four men from the bar she had batted an eye in for too long.
"What are you doing walking the streets alone, sweet-cheeks?" one scoffed, bringing from his waistcoat a dull hand-blade. His friends gathered around, each with a mouth full of chuckles and grins. Emily gapped at them, trying to find what words she could use against them…
"Aww, Paul, I think we found ourselves a mute! What, is the little girl too good to speak with us?" another crooned, the one who had first laid eyes upon her in the doorway. His heel stamped down on Emily's ankle, her scream filling the darkening sky. Immediately another drunken fool swept upon her, palm scouring over her mouth and muffling her cry.
"Look it what the darling has given us, boys? A little box.." the bladed sir spoke up once again
"What the hell do we need a box for?" the one holding down both her head and now hands inquired, looking over to the young woman's palms and spying what the others hand already seen. Emily grimaced and jerked around, knowing all too well what they had found. It was the only thing that could be worth money she had on her.
"Hold her down, ass" One of them remarked, his blurry-eyed gaze wandering up and down her figure. As he came forward, hand moving from her chest and down to the little box Emily could find nothing worse than their fingers inching around the only thing she had gotten from her grandmother.
Blood streamed down the man's hand as Emily bit into his flesh, feeling the deep pungent liquid drip about her tongue and fill her mouth. Just as she had hoped he jerked back, a shout filling his lungs. Before the others moved forward she griped onto the box, jamming it into the head of the one who had made to take it.
But before she could do much more the end of a blade made way into her own skin, tearing into her throat and forcing into her shoulder. She let out a choked cry, falling back and onto the alley floor, writhing in pain. The men looked to their friend for a moment, his dull eyes filling with rain from the skies above.
They can't have it…
Their gaze turned piercingly upon her, their faces contorted with rage.
They can't have it…
Her own blood intertwined with the dirtied ground, the box soaked in the dead man's flesh. The men came forward, their kicks breaking into her body and blades molding her flesh.
The can't have it…
Their unjustified revenge halted and their heavy breaths came to a close. The first man came forward again, smashing his foot upon her wrist and crushing the bones within. He bent down, gripping onto the box and pulling it from her reach. As if by instinct and what little strength she had left within her other hand came to meet with his. She wrapped her fingers around the edges, cutting in to her own skin and tainting the poor box further.
With a gruff snort he made the final pull, the box leaving the dying hands of the girl. But a little click let off and a sound breathed life from the confinements of the trinket. It's melody was faint, but ever so deep and ethereal. Emily would have never thought such a tune existed…her grandmother had been right….it was the most beautiful thing she had ever heard…
"Fukin waste if you ask me…" one of the men interrupted the girl's thoughts. "Danny's dead because we wanted to have some fun…fuckin waste…"
"Have your fun then, the bitch isn't dead yet." the man who had pulled the box from her dying hands commented, looking it over as it began to open. "Never seen something like this before…"
"Who gives a rat's ass about some music box" the other replied, moving over to Emily's twitching form. She had lost too much blood, too much life. She was going to die here in an alleyway, the men who had killed her were going to get away with the only thing her grandmother left her…there wasn't a thing she could do.
As the light fell from the brunette's eyes she watched the man hover around her, getting ready to do the final heinous act he could do before her corpse lost all warmth. But something made him jerk up, eyes wide in terror and surprise. Blood began to pour from his lips as he stared down at his abdomen. The shirt he wore was growing red and the sickening quivering of breaking ribs forced him to give off a cry.
Chains…Chains just out the corner of her eye piled from the ground and walls, creeping into the three men's bodies and tearing them limb from limb. They squirmed, screamed and fought at thin air, their body's liquids and entrails falling to the grimy floor. As the last breath formed from Emily's lips a figure moved into view. A leather covered sir with a face as terrifying as none she had seen bent forward and picked up the box from the twitching grip of a hand. He turned to her, depthless eyes staring into her own and tilting a curious head. A voice came next, as deep and rich as the liquid covered ground.
"Hello Emily…" he spoke. "Quite a surprise…"