Next to last chapter, guys! Hope it came out well... it's a little difficult to concentrate today as I'm feeling a bit feverish... (Still came to school in full costume, though - Heather Mason cosplay FTW!) Anyway, thanks again to all my lovely readers, including (but not limited to) Hemotypsis, and most recently, Leminer, whose constructive criticism was mucho welcome (although I wish I could do something about it, it's a bit late now... but it's good for future reference, so thanks lol!) along with the compliments. :) (Also, in answer to your question about Kate, Leminer, yeah, she's an OC. This is actually the third part of a fanfic series of mine featuring her and Barry... "Sixty-Six" is the first in the series, followed by "Feelings," followed by this. ^^)

Also, Leminer reminded me of something I should have said sooner: y'know those chapter commentaries I include at the end of each chapter? I only mean those to be guidelines, not actual rules. Part of my reason for including them is that I really enjoy reading all the symbolic interpretations of the monsters on the Silent Hill Wiki, so I thought it might be cool to include something sorta like that in my fic. However, the symbolism is really still up to the reader in the end... you guys will probably come up with even cooler meanings for some things than I did, plus I gotta be honest, I didn't include everything in the commentary anyway, because (a) I am lazy and (b) it was just way too much to write. So yeah, read the commentary (or don't), but don't take it as the final word. I'd be more than happy to hear more interpretations for anything I've written here, besides what's in the commentaries! :D

Anyway, read on, dear readers, and review if you've got a moment. Also... HAPPY HALLOWEEN! 8D

Disclaimer: I own nothing! BLAH!


Chapter 7: If You Gaze Into the Abyss

"When this monster entered my brain, I will never know, but it is here to stay. How does one cure himself? I can't stop it, the monster goes on, and hurts me as well as society. Maybe you can stop him. I can't." – Dennis Rader

"If you turn around here, / you can walk back, safely; / you will lose no face. I will think no less of you." – Neil Gaiman

A sudden burst of static from the radio sent a shock through Kate's system like a bolt of lightning. Hastily she switched it off… but after a moment the static came back again. Cursing aloud, past reason and past caring, she seized it and threw it with all her strength against the opposite wall, where the cheap plastic casing abruptly shattered, and fell to the floor in a loud clatter.

Even so, an instant later, the static came back again.

Kate bowed her head, covering her ears. "Shut up, just shut up…" she groaned; she had had enough of cryptic messages and voices from the past and, above all, static and monsters. But the static did not go away, and at length, she began to make out voices coming through it.

"Hey – what is this, some kind of joke?" It was Barry's voice again, only he sounded… odd. Scared? "'Cause I've got news for you – it's not very funny, Meatloaf."

"Who you callin' meatloaf?" said another voice, which sounded like it belonged to a large man with a short temper.

"Settle down, both of you." It was the third voice that caught Kate's full attention; with wide eyes, she sat up and stared at the radio in disbelief. It sounded like… "No, this is no joke. You have been selected for exemption from the usual death sentence; you will instead be taking part in a – ah, a special research opportunity. Consider it your lucky day… number Sixty-Six."

There was no mistaking it. The third voice, which spoke with that same eerily calm tone that Kate thought all scientists must have been taught as part of their training, belonged to none other than her brother, Connor Steele.

"Huh? What are you talking about? My name is Barry the Chopper, Barry the…"

"Yes," said Connor. "We are all aware of your morbid collection of titles. But that's not who you are anymore. From now on, you are number Sixty-Six. You have no other name. Is that understood?"

"Sixty-Six, huh?"

Barry's voice sounded calmer now, more curious; Kate's skin crawled just listening to the conversation. He had no idea what was about to happen to him… but she did. And that made it all the harder to keep listening – and yet, it was impossible not to.

"How about Six-Six-Six? I should think that would be far more fitting."

"Shut your face. You should just be grateful you're not sitting in front of the firing squad right now!" snapped the angry man.

"Oh, I AM, believe me. But… well, what exactly IS this 'special research opportunity,' pray tell?"

"It's an alchemical experiment, something no one has ever tried before. And lucky you, you're going to be our first test subject. Mr. Ito, if you would be so kind, please strap him down."

"Hey – hey, what kind of experiment is this? What's the suit of armor for? What are you going to do to me?" Barry sounded nervous again now, and Kate could hear the faint sounds of a scuffle as the man named Mr. Ito forced him to be strapped into… whatever it was they were fastening him to.

"We're going to give you a new body," said Connor. "A better one. You won't age, you won't get sick, and you won't be able to feel pain. You'll be almost immortal."

"Well… that doesn't sound so bad," Barry ceded. "What's the catch?"

"You have to guard Laboratory Five for us, along with a few of your fellow inmates."

"Will I get my cleaver back?"

"We can retrieve the murder weapon from Central's evidence storage," Connor said with obvious distaste. "You are not to leave the lab premises at any time, no matter what. You are to deter any would-be intruders."

"Deter? Does that mean I get to chop them up?"

"Only as a last resort. Mr. Ito, is he secured?"

"Yes, Dr. Steele."

"Good. Mr. Tucker, are you ready?"

"Yes," said a fourth, also male voice, which Kate did not recognize. The name sounded familiar, but she couldn't quite place it.

"Very well. We'll leave you to it, then. Come on, Mr. Ito."

"Don't screw this up, Tucker," said Mr. Ito as he and Connor exited the room; he slammed the door behind them with a loud clang.

"Hey," said Barry a few minutes later, "is this going to hurt?"

"Well… most likely," said Tucker. "Now… hold still!"

Barry began to scream. The process of extracting a soul from a living body, while a delicate business, is also a violent one. When Kate had transferred his detached soul from the armor to his new body, that had been easy – but forcibly ripping a living soul from a living body was much, much more difficult.

She had never heard anything scream like that before – like his very essence was being shredded to pieces, like every atom in his body was in agony.

Finally, the screams faded back into the white noise, which then faded into a silence almost more deafening than the screams. Kate stared blankly at the broken bits of the radio, her body gone numb with shock.

When sense finally began to come back to her, the first complete thought she was able to string together was, Barry. I have to find Barry.

She stood up, wavering a little, bracing herself against the wall for balance. He was a killer, he was a monster, she knew – but he was also human. And her responsibility. And, though she hardly knew how it had happened, she cared for him. She knew now what he was capable of – knew that someday it would probably be the death of her – but she also knew that she couldn't just let him go. Nothing would ever bring back those twenty-three people Barry had killed, and nothing she or Barry could do would atone for them. There was no changing the past; only the future was uncertain.

She was not the same as her brother; she knew what he had once said to her was true: she could not fix everything. She could not fix Silent Hill, nor would she ever probably be able to fix Barry – or herself. But the world was an imperfect place. That was how it was meant to be. Some things were meant to be broken, just as other things were meant to be fixed. It was not her place to decide which was which… but it was part of who she was to keep trying, regardless.

But first, she had to find Barry, and then get the hell out of Dodge.

She took a deep breath, and headed to the door. She paused when, outside, down the hall, she heard the faint metallic screeching that she knew now was the trademark of her hunter. She clenched her fists. She was still afraid; her newfound clarity had not changed that. But she also realized that she and Barry were never going to leave Silent Hill if she didn't face that thing first.

I need to get it out in the open, she thought, trying to remember the layout of the first floor, and where in that layout she was now. If it's on the left, I'll head for the front entrance, lure it outside. If it's on the right, I'll go for the stairs.

She tried not to think about what would happen if it was waiting for her right outside the door. The scraping sounds had stopped, and she had no way of knowing where it was now.

I have to move fast. She counted to three in her head, took a deep breath, then clapped her hands together, then against the door, breaking it down in the blink of an eye. Stepping over the rubble, she looked around hastily for the creature; it wasn't hard to miss. It stood about a hundred yards down the hall, to the right.

She sprinted to the left, towards the stairs.

The muscles in her legs burned from overexertion; she had been on her feet for she didn't know how many hours, and had already run up three flights of stairs during her earlier panic. Her lungs ached from panting and from the dust. Her heart felt like it would burst at any moment. But she kept going – she had no choice. She didn't have to look back to know that she was still being followed; she could feel it coming after her now. It wasn't far behind.

Up one, two, three flights of stairs – finally, she pushed through the door labeled ROOF. As soon as she was through, she turned around and alchemically sealed the door to the wall. Under normal circumstances, this would stop pretty much anything that wasn't an alchemist or a tank, but in this case she figured she had given herself a few moments at the most.

She pulled out the chalk in her pocket; as Barry had said, her alchemy had to count for something.

"Come on, think," she said to herself when she hesitated, her mind suddenly gone blank. Her expertise in putting things back together was of no use here, but she knew how to take things apart.

Of course, this wasn't a thing. This was a living being. Or at least, an animate one.

They're not so different from humans, though…

Suddenly she had it. Two words came to mind; two, simple words, which together spelled one of the greatest taboos an alchemist could commit. But separately, re-imagined into something just as dark, but (incredibly) not forbidden…

Kneeling on the ground, she began to draw, working from memory and praying she could remember enough, just enough to get it right. She didn't think about whether it was right or wrong… she didn't let herself wonder whether the similarities the creatures had to humans was only skin-deep.

She just barely finished the circle before her stalker began to, literally, chop through the door, cleaving the wood as easily as if it were raw meat. It didn't take long for him to get through to the roof.

Although its eyes were covered (if it had eyes at all), Kate could feel it staring at her (or perhaps into her) as they faced each other. She forced herself to keep her eyes on its hooded face, even though it felt like staring into an abyss – anything to keep herself from looking down at the transmutation circle and giving the whole thing away.

The thing took one step forward, then another. Just a few more steps, that's it, she thought, holding her ground and doing her best to ignore the instinct to run. She was shaking now, but she managed to stand firm. She waited, motionless, as the thing slowly advanced towards her.

Finally… Got it! she thought as it finally reached the mark, and dropped to her knees, ready to clap her hands to the circle and perform the transmutation. But with a sudden burst of speed, the monster lurched forward, its butcher's knife headed straight for her head. With a cry, she rolled out of the way and scrambled to get back to her feet. She tried again, with the same results – apparently, this thing wasn't a slow as it seemed. It had merely been taking its time.

Now what? she thought, panicked, as it attacked once again, this time just barely missing slicing off her shoulder.

Meanwhile, seven levels down, Barry was facing his own demon, which, although Kate had not noticed it, had been following him since they'd arrived in Silent Hill. Perhaps she hadn't been listening closely enough, or perhaps it was all in his head, but every now and then he had heard it: a wailing in the distance, a familiar whining sound which brought back far too many memories. He had suspected it at first, but had not been completely sure why it sounded so familiar until he'd heard her voice while standing with Kate in the crematorium.

Ann.

Of course, it wasn't her anymore, not really – it was just as he'd told Kate: she wasn't a person anymore. She'd been dead for years. And if this thing really was in any way Ann, or even a part of Ann, she had not aged well underground. The thing she had become was nameless, faceless, and indescribable – a grotesque mockery of a human being, neither really alive nor fully dead. It reeked of death, but unlike the other monsters they'd encountered, it could speak now and then, and when it did it had her voice.

And it grated on his ears just as aggravatingly as it had the last time he'd heard it.

"SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT UP!" he screamed at it, attacking it over and over again. It hung above him from the ceiling like a vaguely woman-shaped spider in a giant web – except the web was part of it, flesh and blood. Whenever he managed to hit it, it shrieked Ann's high-pitched squeal which he remembered so well, and when he missed, it sobbed, and begged for his mercy. Yet all the while, it clawed down at him, with hands that had drag-hooks for fingers; he already had a large gash in his left arm, and a cut just under his right eye that would probably leave a scar.

"Don't you love me anymore?" it wept. He managed to hack through yet another one of the many web-like sinews, and it shrieked, and clawed out at him, crying, "Why are you doing this to me? What did I ever do to deserve this?"

"I said SHUT UP!" He hacked at it again, and again, and managed to cut off one of its troublesome hands. It writhed in agony, and he laughed bitterly at its pain.

"Please, Barry…" It managed to sink the hooks of its remaining hand into his side; he cried out as it dragged through his flesh, leaving behind a deep, freely bleeding wound.

He redoubled his efforts, chopping away with random, wanton violence at the seemingly endless web of sinews and veins above him, barely batting an eye at the blood dripping down onto his arms and face.

"LEAVE ME ALONE!"

He was faring little better than Kate, who had begun to sustain similar wounds as her reflexes began to give way to weariness. The thing that haunted her, which reminded her so horribly of everything in Barry that she feared, was much faster than she had anticipated, and it was all she could do just to avoid being cut in two. She hadn't managed to land a single blow on it yet.

But she had to manage something soon, before her strength gave out completely. She couldn't use her usual trick of cracking the ground under its feet, not without breaking the transmutation circle, and there was nothing else on the roof that she could use to transmute into a weapon.

Then, she remembered – the gun! Feeling a fool for not remembering it sooner, she drew the pistol and, leaping back to avoid yet another attack, took aim and fired. She was not the best of shots, and even worse under such pressure, but she managed to clip its right shoulder, which was attached to the hand with the cleaver.

In the brief halting of the onslaught which this caused, Kate took the time to take better aim at it, aiming for its head – and said a little prayer, knowing this was the only bullet she had left. Then, she fired.

BANG!

Whether it was luck, or fate, or perhaps both, the bullet actually managed to hit its mark. The creature cried out in pain, with a roar eerily similar to the way Barry's old body had yelled when she'd fought it in that alleyway in Central, something like a thousand years ago (or perhaps it just felt that way) – but it did not die. Not yet. Tossing aside the empty gun, Kate sprang forward, clapping her hands together and then against its shoulders – again it howled in agony as she removed two handprint-shaped layers of flesh. It stumbled backwards… back onto the transmutation circle.

It slashed out at her again, and though it missed its intended mark – her neck – it did not miss her arm. She cried out, but did not waste time trying to heal the deep wound it had inflicted, though she was bleeding profusely. Instead, she dropped down, and finally, finally pressed her hands to the edge of the circle. Please, let this work…

There was a flash of blue alchemical light, and for a moment, that was all. Then the thing roared again in anguish as, piece by piece, it began to fall apart. The circle she had drawn on the ground was a combination of a human transmutation circle and a simple deconstruction circle; she had never seen anything like it before, but apparently it worked. She made herself watch as one chunk of meat after another dislodged itself from the thing's body; it was like watching the sped-up version of a flesh-eating virus. But she would not let herself look away, horrifying though it was to watch, and all the while she thought, I did this. I killed it. I won.

But it didn't feel like a victory. She wasn't sure what she felt – relief, perhaps. And tired; so very tired. As the last of its cries died away, and the last of the flesh disintegrated, leaving behind only a bloody cleaver, she let herself collapse onto the ground, pale with loss of blood and completely exhausted.

It was easy to let the world slip away into nothingness.


Chapter 7 Commentary

The title of this chapter comes from a quote by Friedrich Nietzsche, a 19th century German philosopher whose last name will never cease to drive me insane (no matter what I do, I always get it wrong! Thank goodness for spell check). The full phrase is: "Battle not with monsters, lest ye become a monster; and if you gaze into the abyss, the abyss gazes also into you."

"When this monster entered my brain, I will never know, but it is here to stay. How does one cure himself? I can't stop it, the monster goes on, and hurts me as well as society. Maybe you can stop him. I can't." – Dennis Rader

Dennis Rader was better known as the BTK killer, or the BTK strangler. (BTK stands for "Bind, Torture, Kill.") He murdered 10 people between 1974 and 1991, and would send letters describing the murders in detail to the police and to newspapers. He was arrested and convicted in 2005, and is serving ten consecutive life sentences at the El Dorado Correctional Facility in Kansas.

"If you turn around here, / you can walk back, safely; / you will lose no face. I will think no less of you." – Neil Gaiman

All good things end in Neil Gaiman. This is also from his poem, "Instructions."

Mr. Ito, if you would be so kind, please strap him in.

The guy strapping Barry in for the experiment is no one of real consequence, but all the same I went ahead and named him after Barry's Japanese voice actor for the 2003 anime, Kentaro Ito, for the lolz.

"Good. Mr. Tucker, are you ready?"

I have no idea how long ago Barry was supposed to have been captured and turned into armor, but I'm going to hazard a guess that this is physically possible. Yes, the Mr. Tucker of this scenario is THAT Shao Tucker, the Sewing-Life Alchemist. Connor isn't as good of an actual alchemist as he is just a scientist, and moreover, as we already learned, he's not one to get his hands dirty. Tucker, on the other hand, has expertise when it comes to screwing with nature and living beings, and is obviously not adverse to getting his hands dirty when he deems it's necessary. (I hate Tucker. XP) Kate never met Tucker, but I'm sure she's heard of him… it's just that, at the moment, she's far more concerned with what she's hearing, rather than where she's heard his name before.

She sprinted to the left, towards the stairs.

Notice how Barry went to the lowest level possible to face his demon, whereas Kate chose to go up the stairs to the roof instead. This was done intentionally, and I'll leave it to you, dear readers, to deduce the reason for yourself.

But separately, re-imagined into something just as dark, but (incredibly) not forbidden…

Human. Transmutation. Well, sort of.

She didn't think about whether it was right or wrong… she didn't let herself wonder whether the similarities the creatures had to humans was only skin-deep.

Kate may have taken the high road, but in Silent Hill all roads lead to hell, no matter how paved they may be with good intentions. She's overcome her road-blocks with Barry, at least for the most part, but that doesn't necessarily mean she's becoming a better person. Doesn't necessarily mean she's becoming more evil, though, either… Evil, after all, is in the eye of the beholder, and on the moral compass, there isn't always a true north. There's a fine line between accepting the darkness within and letting it take over…

Of course, it wasn't her anymore, not really – it was just as he'd told Kate: she wasn't a person anymore.

This was a last-minute addition to my little Silent Hill bestiary; originally, I hadn't planned on revealing much about Barry's fight or about his monster at all. But then I started to feel like that was cheating you guys out of something, and I knew at the very least I had to allude to it… then this scene happened. I guess the name for this one is the Memory of Ann, since this is the one monster that has a direct connection to a specific character. I'm purposely trying to be a bit vague with her, but I'll elaborate on the few things I did mention: the web-like flesh is sort of a "black widow spider" allusion, although really it's Barry who's the widow(er). Also, webs have a tendency to cling to you, even though you'd really rather they didn't… sort of like the memory of Ann for Barry. As for the drag-hook fingers… again, these are used to snag onto things, and it's difficult to get them out once they're in. The reason she's suspended from the ceiling is (a) this is an allusion to the way her memory hangs over him (at least in the back of his mind), and (b) Barry wasn't kidding when he says she nagged him all the time. In life, she was probably a teensy bit overbearing.

The thing that haunted her, which reminded her so horribly of everything in Barry that she feared…

Exactamundo, Kate my dear. That's exactly what the Chopper's all about.