A/N:  Hmm…you know, Strategies of Psychotherapy is an actual book (written by Jay Haley, might I add), so I figured I'd best disclaim that.  Jay Haley owns it.  I don't.  Fuu.
But I own his evil twin.  He he.  Again, loopholes are fun.

Harry sounds like a gentleman here.  Being insane can do weird things to you.

Just to clarify- I was watching Home Alone when I wrote this.  He he.  I love the blowtorch over the door and the ornaments in front of the window.  Why is this movie on in the middle of July?  I have no idea.  The same reason it snows in Silent Hill when there's a heat wave everywhere else.  Oh my.  There's a lovely little nugget of joy for you people…

Cheers,
~Rumer ("Why the hell d'ja take yer shoes off?" "Why the hell are you dressed like a chicken?")

Autopsy Report: Chapter Eight

Harry Mason hesitated a moment on the cot before gracefully getting to his feet.  He was tall.  About 6'5" or so, give or take a few inches.  Thick, matted black hair hung slightly in his eyes, giving the impression of shadows across his face.  Spiky, toothy shadows, but shadows nonetheless.  At one point he had been an extremely attractive man, there was no doubt about that.  He looked almost underweight, but not quite.  I was surprised; most people lose a lot of weight in prison.  Either he hadn't been too thin to start with, or he'd been eating all he'd been given.  Considering the status of prison food, I leaned toward the latter.  Prison food is just a step below cafeteria slop, and I am just one of the many who believe the cooks there have to go to a special school just to learn how to turn perfectly good food into glue.

His eyes.  His eyes were an absolute piercing hazel.  You could tell the color, but it was the intensity behind the colors that sent a shudder through my bones.  I wasn't sure, but I thought I could pick out a ring of gold encircling each of his pupils.  The shadows cast over them made the gold seem to glow slightly.  I ignored the impulse to shudder and put on my best professional smile.

"Mr. Mason," I said crisply, "my name is Dr. Kira Devereaux.  I'm a forensic pathologist at Brahms.  If you don't mind, I'd like to ask you a few questions."

Harry closed his eyes and smirked to himself, eyebrows arching in a sneer.  He kept silent for a moment, but then answered in a clear voice with an almost manipulative tone.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Dr. Devereaux.  Charmed.  Enraptured.  Honestly, I am.  What could possibly bring you to the abode of the lowest persons of the populace?  Surely it isn't just to see me.  Am I right?"  He opened his eyes on the last phrase.  The gold seemed to dance around his eyes now. "Or are you just here to poke fun at me?"

I closed my eyes and opened them again.  "No one will be poking fun at anyone, Mr. Mason.  May I please sit down?"

Harry extended a graceful hand.  "Please.  Sit.  I don't mind in the least."

"Thank you."  I sat on the little metal chair.  "As you probably know, there have been a great number of Silent Hill-related murders lately…and since you had several preternatural…experiences…in the town, I'd like to ask you if you know anything about the unusual homicide rate."

Harry sat on the edge of his cot as gracefully as a cat.  He gave a little snicker.  He looked directly into my eyes, sending a stare that would shatter diamonds.  "Ah, so that's what Cybil was talking about.  Yes, she did mention happenings in Silent Hill again.  You see, she was made available to the local paper, so she knew all about your little escapades.  She relayed the information to me, as friends do, and would I be correct in saying that you don't have any idea as to what you're doing?"  His eyes never left mine for an instant.  It didn't occur to me to look away.  Damn the matriarchal dominance factor.

"In a nutshell, Mr. Mason, that's exactly right.  That's why I'm coming to you."

Harry gave a tsk of disapproval.  "You're lying.  I can see when you lie.  Tell me; have you visited Silent Hill?"

I nodded.  "Once before.  Only once."

"You know Kira- may I call you Kira?"

"Of course, Mr. Mason."

"Oh, call me Harry.  Anyway, Kira, it would be better for you to stop lying.  It is unbecoming for a pretty young woman such as yourself."

I'm one of those people who are unfazed by flattery.  We just don't believe it.  Good to have handy at times, now being one of them.  "Young, I'll believe.  And how do you know I'm lying?"

Harry smirked.  "It's an age-old technique.  But you are, correct?"

I suddenly became interested in my shoes.  "I was in a car accident with my mother just inside the city limits a long time ago.  That's the only other time."

Harry sat up, a triumphant smile on his face.  "Now that wasn't so hard, now was it?"

I shot Harry a weak glare.  "Enough.  I've answered several questions for you.  Now you do the same for me."

Harry held up both hands in defeat.  "Fine.  Ask away, miss forensic pathologist.  I'm waiting."

"Silent Hill.  When you went there last, did you notice anything different?"

Harry stared at me for a second, then burst into a peal of laughter that subsided in a few moments.  "Kira, the last time I answered that question, it got me in here.  I will not answer it twice."

"I assume you were talking to the police that time.  I'm not the police.  I'm not the FBI.  I work at a hospital, and if anything, I'm curious.  Honestly, anything you say here will stay here.  You have my word of honor."

"Never assume, Kira.  When you assume, you make an ass out of you and me.  I know that quite well."

I was beginning to get pissed.  "I'm sure you do, Harry.  May I please rephrase the question?"

"Rephrase all you like."

I took a deep breath and spoke.  "I'd like you to tell me in detail why you were going to Silent Hill and the events that followed.  You were at one point a resident of Thorstad, that I am certain.  That's at least a day away.  I'd like you to tell me why you went."

Harry smirked to himself.  "That's a bit better, Kira.  I'm impressed.  Truly, I am.  I was on my way to Silent Hill for a quick visit.  I'd promised my daughter that I'd take her there.  On the outskirts, I also got into an accident.  So alike, you and I.  In any case, I was knocked unconscious, and when I awoke, my daughter was gone.  I went to look for her."

"Did the town look…different…in any way?"

"If you count fog and snow in the middle of July, then yes, it did look different."

"Was there anything else?"

Harry gave a snicker and lay back on the cot.  "Dear, dear Kira, if seeing is believing, and believing is seeing, where do hallucinations fit in?"

I blinked.  "What do you mean by that, Harry?"

Harry suddenly sat up and fixed me with that piercing gaze again.  "According to the doctors here including your friend Dr. Haley, all that I saw were hallucinations."

"Do you believe they were hallucinations?"

Harry was silent.  I asked again, "Do you believe they were hallucinations?"

Harry stood up and leaned very close to the bars.  I could see his eyes up close now, and they did have those rings of gold in them.    He whispered, "People like you live on the edge, Kira.  The problem is, I fell off into the chasm long ago.  Good day to you."  He stood back up, walked back to his cot, and lay down.  I could tell that was his way of saying 'thanks for coming, please fsck off now'.  I stood up and turned to go.  As I made my way down the hall again, I heard the scuffle of feet and heard a voice.

"Kira!  One last thing before you go, if you please!"

I trotted back to the cell and stood beside the chair.  Harry stood at the bars, as close as he was the last time he talked to me.

"I predict you will be seeing my daughter soon, Kira.  I think…she will be a client."

"What do you mean, Harry?"

"Kira!"  Another voice called down the hall.  "Time's up!  Come on back!"  Good ol' Jay.  I turned my attention back to Harry.  He'd gone back to his cot, but he was looking at me with his fixed gaze again.  Hands clasped, back bent over slightly.  He had a strange little smile on his face.

"Thank you for your time, Harry.  I hope all goes well for you."

"And for you, Kira.  I believe that I shall be seeing you again."  I walked away from the cell quickly, but I could still feel his hazel eyes etched with gold piercing my soul.

***

I was getting into my Audi when my cellphone rang.  I picked it up.

"Devereaux."

"Dr. Devereaux, this is Elwood Lecter."

"Hello, Dr. Lecter, I just got finished.  I'm heading back now."

"Good, because you have a job waiting for you when you get back."

"Female?"

"Yes."

"Silent Hill related?"

"Again, yes."

Shit.  "Anything else?"

"I hope you don't have any scruples about performing autopsies on children."

Double shit.  I hated dissecting children.  It's never fair how they died.  "Name?"

"Actually, yes.  We just took a blood sample; it's been analyzed.  Her name is Cheryl Mason."

My heart skipped a beat.  "Pardon?"  I said, nearly choking on the words.

"Cheryl Mason.  We're checking to see if she's related to-"

"Harry Mason."  I finished breathlessly.  "It's his daughter."

"How did you know that?"  There was accusation in his voice.

"A hunch," I said quickly.  Whatever was said in the Tomb, stayed in the Tomb.  I keep my promises.

"Some hunch.  Anyway, you'd best get down here pronto."

"Of course."  I hesitated.  "What's the apparent cause of death?"

"I'd like to say-"

"-Burns?"  I was almost afraid to hear the answer.

"Yes and no. She looks burned…and ripped open."  A hint of disgust lined his usually sharp voice.

"Right," I choked, "I'll be there.  Ta."  I hung up.

Bloody hell.

~~~

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