'Am I really supposed to die this way?'
The home of Alessa Gilespie was being consumed by a fire. Her mother, Dahlia, had already escaped, not even bothering with the child she had dubbed "evil."
Alessa lay in the middle of an intricate circle design, surrounded by lit candles. The circle was to send her "evil" self to Hell, the candles to help her be forgiven by God. Dahlia had set the candles into place while Alessa lay, paralyzed and vulnerable.
Dahlia lit the last candle and backed away from the girl. "May God have mercy on your damnable soul," she whispered before walking through the bedroom door. Alessa heard the click of the lock, but did not care. She could hardly move.
Soft crackles could be heard from behind the closed door. Alessa stared at the peeling ceiling. She was going to die. She was going to die. Here, of all places. Here, where she spent so many years being mentally tortured.
The door caught aflame. The fire soon spread to her curtains, her dresser, her bed. It soon came to outline the circle design Alessa lay upon. She could feel her dress and her hair singe away. A flame licked at her bare ankle.
Searing agony.
Instead of yowling in pain, Alessa embraced it. She remained still, eyes closing as the fire burned away her very skin. Milky white charred to a harsh blackish-red. Her frilly blue dress burned away like tissue paper.
'This is it. This is the end.'
Alessa slowed her breathing.
"Hello?! Is anyone still in here?!"
Her eyes snapped open. Who was that? It wasn't Mother. The person sounded male.
"Hang on!" the male voice yelled across the roaring flames, "I'm coming to get you!"
Alessa's eyes slowly closed. It was probably another church-goer. She slipped into a state of semi-conscious.
A pounding noise jolted her awake. The person was trying to break down the door. It gave away. A man with a trucker hat and a yellow vest stumbled into the room. His green eyes searched frantically for the survivor. He spotted Alessa. By now, the girl was hardly recognizable.
'Go away,' Alessa thought, knowing that the man would hear her.
He blinked before a determined look came onto his face. He strode over to the girl and picked her up bridle style. "I can't do that." He cradled Alessa to his chest to shield her from the fire as he made his way out of the burning building.
Alessa was shocked. 'He's helping me? Why?' She tilted her head up a bit to closely examine the male. Strong jawline that was covered in a 5 'o clock shadow. Bright green eyes that looked for a safe way out of the house. She was held in a firm grip, indicating that he was strong. She could feel the muscles on his arms.
"Damn it," the man cursed. A wall of fire blocked their path. Alessa narrowed her eyes at the flames.
'Down.'
The flames crackled, then died down. The man raised both eyebrows, but continued. Two more walls of flames blocked their path, but Alessa commanded them both to go down.
The man half-ran to the staircase. It had collapsed. He muttered a curse and ran in another direction. The man soon came to a dead end, flames covering the walls in front of him. He turned around and found that the fire had spread. They were trapped.
"Not good," He said, "Not good at all."
The floor underneath the man's feet began to groan under his weight.
"Oh, boy," he gripped the girl tighter to his chest, being careful of her burns, "Brace for impact." Alessa clutched a handful of his vest.
The floor gave away. Miraculously, the man landed on his feet. "Whoa," he said, amazed. Alessa gave a small smirk. The man shook his head and continued the escape.
He whipped his head around, trying to find the front door. There it was. He kicked the door open and stumbled out of the now collapsing building.
The man made sure he was a good distance away before setting the girl down, gently, on the grass.
Alessa sighed in pleasure. The dew from the grass cooled her burns. She heard a rustling sound and looked toward the man. He had taken off his vest and was folding into a square shape. He lifted Alessa's head carefully and set the vest under her head as a sort of make-shift pillow.
The man set her head back on the vest. "We need to call for help," he stated. He stood up and looked around. He could see flashing red and blue lights down the road. The man gave a relieved smile.
His vision became fuzzy. The smile vanished. The sirens coming from the ambulance truck became warped and muffled. He felt like he was going to be sick. A headache started to form in his forehead.
The man gripped his head in his hands, "Wha-? What's going on?" The last thing the man saw before passing out was the girl's ice blue eyes, seeming to stare at his very soul.
Alessa gazed at the man's green eyes before they rolled up into his head. He crumpled to the ground. She owed this man her very life. And she didn't even know his name.
Wait.
Travis.
Travis Grady. That's his name.
Alessa gave the fainted man a small smile before disappearing completely, the vest gone along with her. She would remember Travis.
He helped her.
Her savior.
AN;
I LOVED Silent Hill Origins. The graphics were amazing, the bosses were creepy (shudders), and the storyline was AMAZING! You could actually follow it without getting confused or having a "What the fuck?" moment. Problem; Dahlia was a fucking BITCH. And I mean super bitch.
Reason for this fic: Thanks to SHO, I am in love with the Travis x Alessa pairing. Ever since I saw the first cutscene, I KNEW that these two had to be together.
Notice: The dialogue may be a bit different. I tweaked it (just a little) so it could seem a little bit better. It's not much, but (shrugs).
Disclaimer: I own nada thing. Just the lovely imagination that wishes the pairing was canon. (sigh)