As promised... Pyramid Head's Bad Romance. *womp womp wooooomp*
That probably wasn't the best sound effect.
Six feet sloshed in the damp, cold underground, one masculine and two feminine figures. The Dark Nurse, Twitchy, hung close to Bubbly, who followed Zerox fearlessly.
"If you look to your right, you can see a wall. If you look to your left, you see another wall, but you'll notice there's a random red square on it," Zerox audited their sojourn.
"What are you doing?" asked Bubbly.
"I have to make this interesting somehow." The Butcher shrugged, but stopped anyway.
There was much background noise in the Labyrinth, such as the pervasive drip, drip of water echoing through the endless tunnels. At Twitchy's heels trotted Fluffy, tail waving, tongue lolling. His shoulder muscles glided smoothly under a translucent membrane and the dim light in the tunnels shimmered on his savage set of fangs. He provided a decent amount of comfort to Twitchy- Fluffy's deadly claws and teeth ensured only the most insane of creatures would dare pester him.
The ground ended suddenly in a wide hole, going unnoticed until the two nurses plunged into its open maw. Zerox, who had clearly been expecting it, steered himself and Fluffy off to the side.
"And if you look at the floor, you'll see a hole," he stated.
"A bit too late to warn us," Bubbly called up.
"Hey, it was the only way I was going to get the tall one down."
Twitchy mumbled murderously under her breath, crawling on her bony hands and knees, scrabbling in the pitch black. Her palms slid on the disgusting slime that sprouted in the fecund water, and the stench of rot was particularly thick.
"I can't see a thing!" she groused, searching for Bubbly. She sat back, looking about, vague shapes materializing around her as she grew accustomed to the darkness. A figure, slightly warped, was hunched against the brick wall, inert. Twitchy leaned in, skating her fingertips on the thing. "Bubbly? Is that you?"
'Bubbly' was slick with algae, skin plastic and cold as death. Twitchy could see better now, realizing that a pair of legs sprouted from where a head should've beem. Her hand fell to the creature's stomach- where a living mass writhed and munched on the soft tissues.
Twitchy screamed and backpedaled, arms churning in the air, scattering the maggots in hundreds of little arcs. She scrabbled back, distancing herself from the creature, the dead Mannequin, sobbing loudly, "Bubbly! Where are you?"
A cool hand clasped her ankle from a darkened hollow in the sewer, which she kicked away in terror.
"Shh! Please," a familiar voice begged, tone thick with fright. She talked quietly, hardly above a whisper.
"Bubbly!" Twitchy exclaimed in relief.
"Shh!" Bubbly hissed savagely, digging her talon-like nails into the flesh. "Come here. No time to explain. Get in!"
Twitchy moved to crawl, only to be stopped by the grating, mocking chuckle of, "Well, well. Look what the Feral dragged in."
oOoOoOo
Arcade flitted through the debris eternally present in the residential area of Silent Hill, rifling through unlocked cars, heart pounding in her chest. She panted in desperation, withdrawing after another fruitless investigation to clutch handfuls of her hair and tug forcefully. She grunted in frustration, kicking her heels in the ash, stirring up gray clouds. Emilie hung around behind her, crossing her arms, a brown eyebrow cocked.
"What are you looking for?" she inquired, painfully unaware.
Arcade shushed her frantically, enveloping her in an embrace as she confided, "Something to defend ourselves with. Puppet could be anywhere."
"She was throwing axes at us! Those weren't good enough?" Emilie struggled against the tight hug.
"We need a long-range weapon. You know, a gun. An ax, while powerful, is still short-ranged. By the time we get in a chop to her shoulder, she'll have a throwing knife planted in between our eyes." Arcade pressed her finger to the girl's forehead for emphasis.
"Umm... I didn't know nurses were good with throwing knives," Emilie hesitantly responded.
"Don't underestimate Puppet," Arcade growled, releasing Emilie and returning to the crashed car.
Emilie sighed as she squinted at the dark gray, uniform shapes rising out of the paved streets, negotiating puffs of ash out of her long blonde hair and brushing it off her pink dress. Her matching hairband had long since been lost to the devious clutches of this hellish town, given to a nurse in exchange for directions.
Clang.
The noise was hardly audible, detected only by Emilie's hearing, superior to that of Arcade's. It was metallic in nature, like a hailstone falling on a tin roof. In any other place, it would be another ambient sound, but here, her mind flew to the multiple horrible things contained in the fog. Could it be Tuberculosis, her diligent protector, come to slay anyone who dared come near her?
No. TB wasn't the type to lurk; he would've pounced by now and flayed Arcade, who excitedly snatched a revolver from the compact car's glove compartment.
"Arcade..." Emilie nervously tapped Arcade's shoulder.
"Hold on... there's only one bullet in here. There has to be more..." Arcade dismissed her with a shaky wave of her hand.
A bulky shape flew from one rooftop to the next, oddly graceful. That shape straightened, its outline revealing a thin, sharp object clasped in its awful paw. The arm coiled...
In a silver flash, that thin, sharp object whizzed just past Emilie, embedding its cruel point into the back of Arcade's veiny thigh in a scarlet burst, dripping down her calf and onto her lingerie.
"Augh!" she shrieked in agony, collapsing on the seat, wrapping her hands around the injury as blood welled between her fingers. She visibly debated with herself whether to pull the knife out or not, her hand dancing back and forth.
"Arcade!" Emilie squeaked, rushing to the nurse's side. She never expected to care this much for a creature who she knew as the feminine beast constantly trying to kill her.
"You've got... to get outta here, kid..." Arcade rasped, laying back on the passenger seat.
"I can't go without you!" The revolver was shoved into her grip; with trepidation, she accepted it.
"She'll kill you, too," Arcade stated, resigned to her fate. A red puddle formed beneath her.
With newfound determination, Emilie weighed the gun in her palm, contemplating it. Two shots. Two shots to make it count, and two shots to save herself and Arcade.
Puppet landed with a heavy thud near a garage, a horrendous smirk played across her cracked lips, revealing two rows of sharklike fangs.
Hello, my pretty... step aside for just one minute and we can go our separate ways, forget this ever happened... Puppet lurched closer.
"No." Emilie stubbornly refused to relinquish an inch of terra firma to the monstrosity. If only Daddy could see her now. Then again, it was probably best not to wish for that, as he was adamantly opposed to his daughter handling anything resembling a firearm. She outstretched the revolver, aiming down its barrel. She mimicked the cops on television, stating, "Drop whatever weapon, back away, and we can go our separate ways, forget this ever happened." She couldn't resist throwing in a jibe at Puppet.
So you're defending Arcade, are you? Puppet's bright scarlet tongue worked over her teeth. How noble of you. Her joints popped as she sauntered in.
"I said to back away!" Emilie hadn't the resources to fire a warning shot into the air. She could potentially scrabble for a box of ammo, but there wasn't a guarantee that she'd find one. And Puppet was unnaturally fast and cunning; it was inexorable that she'd take every opportunity that came her way and attack Emilie.
As Arcade slipped into unconciousness, Emilie gulped and pulled back the revolver's hammer.
"Well, then," she snarled. "Come at me."
I hope the cliffhangers of this chapter will make up for me updating so criminally late. I LOVE YOU ALL, I SWEAR! And thanks for sticking with me, despite my schedule or lack therof.
