Her memories came rushing back as she stared at its face- if you could even call it that. Images flashed before her eyes. She felt a pain in her stomach, just as she had after ingesting that small red stone. She could see the barely formed god lying on the floor of the church, writhing in blood. She saw as Claudia, that psychotic bitch, consumed it and was consumed, herself, by the building. Cheryl could see the dark hole as she leapt into it. She could see the creature- the same damn creature standing in front of her –as it looked after that "god" monstrosity.
She screamed. This can't be happening, she thought as she turned and began sprinting. This can't be! They won't take me back! Not now! Not ever! She ran as fast as she could until she reached the entrance to the subway. There were people around, waiting for the train just as they probably did everyday. If there are people here, it won't come after me, right? Cheryl did find relief in the company, but couldn't seem to breathe. She continued taking in short, choppy breaths as her train rolled to a stop on the tracks in front of her. She boarded just like everyone else.
As the train began to move along, she composed herself. Maybe I'm just hallucinating, she quietly pondered. Perhaps it's the Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder coming back. Cheryl had struggled with nightmares and flashbacks for months after her trip to Silent Hill. She tried to think of the best ways to calm down. She remembered studying PTSD early on in her courses when she began college. After all, she was a Psychology major. Her thinking was interrupted when she noticed that a small, plump man with a rustled mustache was looking oddly at her. "Are you okay, ma'am?" he asked. He was looking at the left side of her face, around the corner of her mouth. Cheryl reached up to touch her face, and found blood on her fingertips when she pulled her hand back. "Oh!" she said, surprised. "Uh, yes, I'm just fine. Thank you." She quickly wiped the blood off of her face and moved to the other end of the train car.
Soon, the train had reached her stop. She made her way onto the platform, a bit reluctant. Okay, reach the street, run like hell. She wanted to make sure she didn't run into that… thing, again. She casually walked up the steps and faltered a bit under the lamppost that illuminated the stairs leading to and from the subway. Okay, here… we… go! With that, Cheryl was off running towards her apartment complex. Once she reached the main gate leading to her block, she stopped to catch her breath. Play it cool, she thought to herself. After getting her breathing a bit stable, she got out her house key and walked up the steps to room 208.
Cheryl unlocked the door and stepped inside to find Miranda and her boyfriend watching a movie. Or rather, making out on the couch with a movie playing in the background. Be casual. "Alright, alright, break it up, kids!" she joked, trying not to let her uneasiness show. The couple awkwardly pulled away from each other, and Miranda cleared her throat. "I see why you wanted me gone so bad!" Cheryl continued. Miranda let out a nervous laugh, "So how did it go?" Cheryl, who had moved to the fridge to grab something to drink, froze up for a second. "Uh, it went alright. He got super drunk and made out with some girl. I kind of ditched him after that." Good, that was pretty convincing. "Aw, I'm sorry," Miranda consoled. She turned to her boyfriend, "Maybe you should g-" Cheryl interrupted, "Oh, no! It's fine! I think I'm going straight to bed anyways. All that loud music and cigarette smoke, you know?" Miranda looked a bit worried, "Aw, alright. Sorry your date night wasn't so great! Goodnight!" Cheryl grabbed a bottle of water and turned to walk towards her room, "Don't worry about it! Goodnight." She waved to both of them and went into her room.
She plopped down on her bed and gazed at the ceiling as she raised her hands above her body, to stretch. She then noticed something. There were bloodstains on her sleeve, where she had wiped the spatters off her face. So this is happening, she thought to herself. Her uneasiness increased ten-fold when a certain thought crossed her mind: he's dead, and I'm the last person he was seen with. She bolted up and tore off her jacket. "Fuck," she quietly said to herself. Can't put it in the hamper, what if Miranda does laundry? Can't throw it away, it could easily be found. I'll burn it at some point, but for right now… Cheryl thought of places she could hide the jacket until tomorrow. She ended up stuffing it under her bed. "Ugh!" She flopped onto her bed once more, and lay on her stomach, trying to take it all in. Pretty soon, she drifted to sleep.
Fading in and out of consciousness, Cheryl groaned and turned on her back. Something caught her eye and she looked up. Crawling around on her ceiling was… that creature… She let out a scream.