XxTender SugarxX

She ached. The monster was in the corner of the pharmacy keeping her one free arm over her stomach which was bound in tape. Sleep. Was what she craved. The monster slowy stood using the counter as a balisk. She searched with the free arm. Hands bumped into in shelves and bottles. She dropped to her knee's in the back of the dark pharmacy. She searched her hand bumping into a soft cloth. She grabbed it and tightened her fist around it as if she was in a struggle. The cloth was thin but it was suitible. She fanned it out to a degree with the one good arm. She layed herself on it. Three days had passed since the attack, but what was the point of time? She had no ambition of keeping time. It all blended together in the world of her gray sight. There was no sun, there, was no light.

Her stomach pulsed and ached. She felt ripped and torn inside. She was curious and ripped at the tape on her lower half with the one arm. Her breath fastened and her stomach pulsed. She tried to sleep and ignore. Her grip tightened on the thin sheet and with one fatal movement something ripped through her. She made a loud groan, the ache to scream over pulsating. The stitchs pulled at the flesh of her lips and kept them tightly shut. Her knees tighty bent in a ninety degree angle and her feet pushed about twelve centimeters off the floor. Her back arched and she screeched again but the sound came out as only muffled groans of pain.

Two more minutes of pain surfaced and then she slowy placed her feet back on the floor and her back came out of it's arch. She took a deep breath and slowly released. The pain was now small and dismal but still existant. She rested her head back. She heard a high muffled noise from infront of her. She pushed herself up with her one arm and didnt feel the presence of any monsters. She did feel a small tingling feeling. She put her one hand on the blanket infront of her and her hand landed on something.

For thoses with eyes. She placed her hand on a small bloodied mass, The monster got on her knees and felt the mass which made small groans when she touched it. She knew little about what had happened, but the feeling of protection for this mass became important it washed over her. She sowly tilted her head to the side but she then quickly got off the blanket and proceeded to wrap the mass in it, like a sacred jewel. Every noise it made conceeded her. She crawled on her knees and sat herself against the wall. The blanket layed bundled in her lap. Her finger's gently danced across the fabric and they brushed against the masse's head. She gently ran a finger over the face and she felt the fleshy stitches that traced across the mouth, the one reason the mass didn't scream. For once she tried to make a smile, atleast now she had some company. Her black hair fell to the front of her face as she bent over and took in the scent. The smell of fresh blood didn't bother her. She focused on the real scent which smelled like her. She carefully and easily put her nose to the nose of her small young.

The monster layed the small bundle on the ground and she layed carefully next to it. Using the one arm she carefully pulled the bundel close, she kept her arm around it to insure protection. The small whimmers of the young made her relax and feel at ease. She felt no threat and for some reason she felt so attached to it. She layed her head softly on the blanket next to the tiny head of her own.

Over the course of the next day she would touch the wimmering child. Not knowing if it had sight or not she would search for the tiny arm of the young that was not even bigger than the size of your hand. She would feel for it's hand against the soft skin that was warm to a degree. She took the tiny hand with her one good arm and would lower her head to the bundle of cloth that rested on her lap. She ran the tiny hand against her face and she would turn the process by touching the tiny face of the child with one of her long fingers.

She could not sing the child a lullaby for she had no words to speak. She would pull the young with her one arm close to her chest cavity and would hope the small sound of her insides would lull it to sleep. To her proud assumption it would infact put the child in a small sleep. The monster would lay the child on the floor to her dismay to search bottles on the floor. She would try to feed the young by propping the bundle against her leg and holding the bottle of medication to it's mouth. The child would not feed and she had realized for the child to live and for it to not starve she would have to move. She comforted the crying young.

She decided that now was the right time to move to a new location, so she carefully made her way onto the foggy streets of Silent Hill. She placed the boards carefully back into place and then picked up her bundle and started limping. The town was quiet, still covered in the thick fog Her blind sight clashed with the feeling of where she was heading. She knew she was on the sidewalk due to the feeling of the concrete on her bare feet. It scratched the soles of her feet, she was used to this. She shifted the child.

She felt the brick of a building with her elbow. She traced it trying to find an entrance. She stopped. Her hearing twinged on end and her hair stood on tip and prod. She heard the noise. She heard the light tapping on the concrete and the sound of panting. A Groaner. She quickly decided to take chances and limped to the closest door and opened it after moving the blanket. She shut the door with her weight and stood against it. Right on cue the demonic starved dog hit the door. She jolted but held her weight against the glass door. She slowly slid down the door holding her whining blanket. She placed it in her lap and ran her one hand over the young that lay inside the bundle.

The monster carefully explored the building. She bumped against shelves lined with books. She was in a bookstore. The dark that clasped around the store felt erie but the feeling washed away from her knowing that her own was safe. She bumped into the warm wall of the back of the store. The carpet of the store felt nice on her feet better than the tile and concrete she had to walk on most of the time. She relaxed knowing that the Groaner would soon think she had dissappered and would wander off. The small monster made a small cry and she placed her head against it's. The small cry's turned to silent whimmers. She felt proud of herself, she thought she was being a fine caretaker.

Glass shattered. The chunks fell to the floor from the glass door. The Groaner took it's mad dash in. The moster looked toward the direction of the sound. She limped as fast as she could trying to find away around the store. Then it came in vision. The black shadow of the dog against the grey of her sight. She limped and she tried to get ou-.

It was too late.

The monster woke up in the foggy streets of Silent Hill. A huge pain was formed in her arm. A huge chunk of flesh ripped from it. The monster whimpered from pain but she got on her knee's quickly searching for her bundle. She felt the blanket after streaching her arm, she pushed herself up and crawled on her knee's to it. Her legs became infected with scratches and aches. She searched the whole blanket. Her whimpering young. Was gone. She gripped the blanket and lifted it with the one hand. She placed it close to her face. The smell of dried blood from the youngs birth was replaced. Instead now, she breathed the fresh blood. The still warm blood touched her lips and she held the blanket close to her chest cavity. She found no more reason. The monster made her way to another location. Little known to her it was Alchemilla Hospital. She held the blanket to her face taking in the fading scent of the first born.

What use was it to cry? For when you have no eyes. It is impossible to cry. What else can you do when you have no eyes, when you can't cry?

The Siren sounded.

The monster wished to mourn for her insulence. She was so stupid. She should have gotten out at the last minute but no, she had just stayed in the back of the store. She pushed the hospital door open with her forearm. She limped inside. She didn't bother with the sigh's of the nurse's she limped past she had no light anyway. She pushed inside an operation theatre and just collapsed on the floor. She felt numb and tainted, her body quivered. If only she could have protected her baby. She hit the floor in anger with her one hand. She heard the floor vibrate. Then came the loud screetching of metal being dragged across the floor. Why did he aways follow her?! She was angry, tired and worn. She brought her hand; still holding the blanket to her chest. She wanted to give up.

The Pyramid Head saw her body on the floor.

He looked the body over and noticed the essence of breath. He grabbed her by the ankle and dragged. She had just given up. In her mind she could hear the Groaner crunching up the newborn, his crys. His screams for mother. His bones crunching the blood coming out of the Groaners mouth like a river. She didnt care if she was going to die. She grew so attached in those few days. The Pyramid Head dragged her to his quarters. The room of rust that smelled of decay and flesh. He picked up the motionless form and threw her into a rusted metal cage for safe keeping. She held onto the blanket this whole time while she was in this cage, she held the blanket close to her nose still hoping and praying to catch a small fragment of the scent.

The Pyramid took her out of the cage. He threw her down on the look's of a surgery table. She clutched the blanket it her right hand. She didn't move no matter how many time's he intruded her. As we know Pyramid Head loved for them to struggle with him. With no struggle he grew bored and he saw her breathe. But struggle...She did not. Pyramid Head grabbed her by the neck and pulled her up to look at him. The Hostage's head rolled and she tilted it back to look at him. But all she saw was the pitch black sillouete against the grey. He shook her. He looked in her hand and saw the blanket. He ripped it from her hand and she instantly started to protest.

Her muffled cries excited him. He peered at his new found tourture tool and held it infront of her and she blindly reached for it. He pulled it back. She cryed again wanting the memoir back. He brutally spread her legs. She clawed at him with her nails which made clinking noise's against the pyramid. He once again summoned his black snakey tounge which appeared from the hole in the rusty pyramid's bottom. He forced it through her stitches. With what she manged she bit it. The Pyramid Head made a loud groan of anger and then retracted his tounge. He took the bandaged body by the throat and threw it. The Hostage hit the wall with a loud clang.

The broken leg ached and stung. She slowly lifted her head and he slowly made his way over to her. He grabbed her by the pale neck. Slowy lifting her up and turning his pyramid to get a better look at her. She pictured her baby crying, whimmering. it's neck was most likely cracked before the Groaner took the chunk of her arm, to brand her as prey when it returned. Then it took the dead life out of the blanket and into it's huge jaws and ran. It's plan would be to most likely come back later and claim its huge prize after it devoured it's appitizer.

Pyramid Head slowly squeezed her neck making the air come out of her lungs at a slow rate. He wanted to make her suffer for biting him. Her head rolled forward making the black hair brush over his gloved hands. The short ends of hair poked into the gloves.

Crash.

The Pyramid Head dropped her at the noise and turned to investigate. She pushed herself up to run but she saw the blanket in his hand. She didn't want to leave it. She coudn't leave it, but will forced her to stand. Pyramid Head lifted up the leg of a maniquien the source of the noise just as the Hostage made her way out. She limped down the hallway feeling the walls with the one arm. She made her way around the corner and into the darkness. When she felt safe after three more corridors she placed her back against the wall of the hallway. She took in a deep breath and then heard the clicking. Most likely a nurse.

The Hostage slowly placed her head on her knees. She heard the sound again. The nails. The growling. Was this her mind? Out of shock of losing the first? No... This noise was real. Something with a heavy weight hit her body. The smell of rotting flesh filled her nose and the loud sound of the growls stung at her ears. Something sunk it's teeth into her skin. She made a loud cry of pain. The high pitch sound hurt her own ears. She knew it. She was going to die... Most likely by the same Groaner that took the life of her child. She smelt the blood off of it's teeth. It's saliva hit her in dropets on her chest. She screamed again. She was going to die.

With a loud shierk from the groaner it's weight was thrown off of her instantly. The Hostage scrambled against the wall. She saw the shadow of the thing that tried to choke her. Pyramid Head stared at her by turning his Pyramid to her slightly. He slowly walked over after throwing the weight of the huge sword behind him. He gripped at her neck again holding her up. He walked toward the room she had origanally came from. The Hostage grabbed at his arm trying to force him to let her go.

Pyramid Head slammed her down on the operating table. She let out a small cry of pain. Then more loud cries followed, not from the outer pain. From the internal pain of losing her first. From being kidnapped time and time again by this thing! The Pyramid Head strapped her down first over the chest then the second leather strap came across the stomach and it was tightened to hold her down. She screamed, she cried, she begged, she pleaded she even prayed. She just wanted death. She ached and her insides squeezed. The Pyramid took something off of the table next to the table. He then made his way slowly to the maniquin laying in the corner. He ripped the seams that held the two pale waists together he wound up the leather stitching around his one gloved hand. The hand that the deformed glove layed apon seprarating all other fingers but two.

He pulled a small piece of Iron off of the table and then looked around. He saw the hell fire from the fan inside the room. He held the metal to the light and then pulled it away after three long minutes. The Hostage continued her struggle as the male corpse thread the leather onto the metal. He touched the sharp iron then ran it against the wall. The iron made loud shrieks from the traction thar made echos like nails on a chalkboard. She felt her ears sting from the sound. She felt as if her eardrums were about to explode. She screamed her stitching loose from age. The Pyramid head felt the now sharp tip of the iron. He once again held it to the fire. Then he walked over the needle steaming from heat and the long stream of leather dragging behind it.

He held her head back with one hand and started working. Threading the leather through the holes in her lips until the knotted end could not be pulled through. With each new stitch he would rip the old stitch pulling it out making the Hostage squirm with pain. But then he would continue to thread. Sometime during this process the pain just stopped and the monster just quit struggling. She had blacked out.

But she had a question. Why was he re-threading her stitches. He just tried to kill her awhile ago didnt he? But he also... He also saved her from a illegiment fate with the Groaner. Why did he save her? He had such a dark aura around him that she could sense.

The executioner. The executioner of Silent Hill,

The true killer and punisher of sin.

You had better watch out.

You had better hang onto your skin.

For in this town of fog and death. There is not a sin that goes unpunished and both the sin and the sinner are punished in the end.