Chapter 25: Gluttony

"My name's Grace,"

Jobe looked up from the sink that resided behind the bar's counter as he listened to the woman, icy water streaming down his face. He winced as it bit into his cuts but that aside, it felt wonderful to scourge his face of some of the clinging dirt that had built up on his face like another epidermis all this time.

Grace had been, to some extent, right in suggesting coming to the unlocked café (a rarity in the town of Silent Hill) to shelter from the near tundra conditions outside. Only problem was that it was only a bare few degrees above freezing inside thanks to the apparent lack of power in the town.

Still, it was better than nothing.

Jobe could have slapped himself for letting his guard drop so low and allowing Grace to go in by her self, but he'd been lucky; nothing had reared its ugly head upon the woman's entrance and they seemed to be alone…

"So what are you doing in Silent Hill, Grace?" Jobe asked, his head buried in a cupboard, rummaging through the dinner's stock of dusty, faded tins. Despite Virgil's memorable offerings, he hadn't had anything to eat since some pallid sandwich from a service station that tasted suspiciously of plastic and car-board but right now, he was hungry enough to eat the box it came in if someone were to offer him it. It would probably taste better anyway…

"Me?" Grace paused for what felt like a very empty gap between her words. A little too empty for such a straight forward question. Jobe looked up from the cupboard, a tin of what he guessed were tomatoes in his hand. Another darker question slithered across his still tongue.

'What have you done to get yourself here, Grace?'

"Well, I have a brother and I haven't seen him since he packed his bags and left home. I wanted to look him up, for old-time's sake, you know? Some reason, I thought he might be in this town but there's none here…" She looked around the dinner's sparse interior, leaning back on her chair. Apart from a few chairs upturned on tables whose tablecloths had been replaced with untold layers of vintage dust, they were completely alone.

"And it looks as though it's been that way for a long time." Grace observed dryly, running a finger over the table's ghostly surface and admiring the grime that concentrated on the tip of her finger.

"What about you…"She crinkled her brow trying to remember his recently given name. "Joe?"

"Jobe," He corrected, taking a seat beside her. "As for me, I was driving through when my car crashed. I've been trying to get out of here ever since." It may be a slight variation of the truth but it would lead down a road ambushed with a smaller number of questions.

Grace's brows shot up.

"You mean that van I found you in wasn't yours?"

In all his time fighting nightmares, Jobe had forgotten about the trivial ethics of human's, however, Grace quickly saved him from wracking his brain for a plausible excuse.

"Do you think I care? It's not like anyone around here's going to miss it." Jobe laughed weakly but halted abruptly when he saw the mirth drop from her face. "But seriously," She continued, the chair legs came down on the greasy floor with a heavy 'clunk'. "If you're planning on splitting, you mind if I tag along?"

Jobe saw something in her eyes that silently begged for him to say 'yes', something she would never allow to creep into her steady voice. It was naked desperation.

"Sure, this place is creepy enough on its own and it would be nice to have some company for once." Jobe said, trying hard to keep up the façade that everything was hunky-dory.

'Not the kind of company who tries to decapitate you or reduce you to a stain on the road…'

Grace smiled, but it was more than easy to see that she was holding back. However, despite whatever she may be leaving un-said, he was glad she'd asked him instead of the other way around. Some women had a common trait of being wary of strange men offering to accompany them out of the blue. But given the current situation, one could be forgiven for throwing caution to the wind.

Still contemplating, Jobe began to fish around in the open can with a lonely fork he'd saved from the solitude it had been enduring in an empty draw.

"Please tell me you're not going to eat that…"

Jobe's jaw stopped moving. If he'd been in her position a day ago, he would have said the exact same thing.

"They taste fine."

Apparently, with these few carefully chosen words, he had awoken the neurotic hygienist within.

"They taste fine? Do you have any idea how long they could have been there?! You could contract salmonella or something!"

Jobe snorted.

"From tomatoes?"

Grace rolled her eyes.

"Whatever, did you even bother to look at the expiery date?"

The fork dropped back into the can, rattling against its wet sides, he could afford to humour her. After all, if mouldy food was the kind of thing that made he stomach turn, Grace was in for a very rude awakening. Jobe decided he would enjoy the eye of the storm for as long as he could.

"Ok, ok. These tomatoes have been off since…"But that was as far as he got. His pupils rapidly dilated as they scanned the can's print and Grace saw him go ridged before she smiled contently to herself.

"Don't say I didn't warn you."

But Jobe didn't hear her. He was to busy trying to repress a scream kept locked in place behind clenched teeth, for there was only one word on the back of the can, printed in bold, gleaming letters.

Gluttony.

Jobe leapt up from his chair as if he'd just sat on a pin, glaring at the can. From the look on his face, it might as well have bitten him.

"What"

"We have to get out of here, NOW!"

Grace looked at him, an expression of perplexing confusion drawn upon her face.

"What are you" This time, it wasn't Jobe who cut her off mid-sentence.

'BANG'

The sound of something slamming into a hard surface flash-flooded the dinner. Jobe froze, his breath catching in his throat.

'It's already here…'

Grace jumped up from her chair, staring in the direction of the sound.

"The hell?" She muttered, her eyes locking on the store cupboard that seemed to be containing the source of the noise.

'BANG'

It came again, louder than before and this time the cracking of wood was clearly audible. Jobe didn't hesitate to pull the shotgun from where it had been stuffed (somewhat uncomfortably) between his shirt and trousers and cocked it, the sound wonderfully crisp and reassuring. Grace turned to him with eyes as wide as dinner plates.

"Oh my"

She began to back away from Jobe, temporally forgetting about the raging anomaly in the storeroom, her attention focused on the long firearm that seemed to have been produced from nowhere.

Before the door finally gave with a piteous whine, one terrified though flashed through Grace's head.

'He's going to kill me…' Then it was gone, like a flare of light in the dark as splinters of wood rained across the room, exploding out from where the door once stood.

Grace ducked, turning back in time to see Jobe fire into the dark cupboard, the shot briefly illuminating the room as a hellish mew of inhuman pain erupted from it and for a moment, everything was blissfully calm.

Jobe turned to her, a look of aching guilt clearly visible on his face. His lips moved to say something but Grace never got a chance to hear the unformed words.

There was a tremendous crack as the wall around the now gone door bulged and buckled, the very plaster coming free of the wall as the cupboard's occupant ploughed effortlessly through it.

Jobe raised the gun again, firing at the huge shadow lumbering towards him through the cloud of frantically dancing dust and crushed plaster, rewarding him with another bellowing howl.

The manufactured fog settled and Jobe got his first glimpse at the Sin.

Acers of pallid, white skin met his eye, folding around a somewhat human build like waves of water. Every now and again, a strip of brown cracked its surface where the fat had been packed so tightly the skin itself had ripped apart under the gargantuan stress.

It dwarfed Jobe by at least a third the man's height and from where he stood, he could barely see the tiny head that stared blankly down at him for the expansive gut, dropping down low between its knees. Those themselves sagged and Jobe found himself thinking it was a miracle the beast could even walk, let alone build up enough speed to barge its way through a wall.

That was the last thing that went through his mind before Gluttony's solid arm smashed into him, the gross limb sending him flying into the nearest table.

Grace watched in mute horror. For some reason, her legs refused to comply with the frantic order to move from her brain, which in turn was too busy trying to process and salvage some sort of sense from what she'd just born witness to. Even though she had lead a far from sheltered life, nothing in it could have possible prepared her for this.

The giant rounded slowly on her, clenching a tiny fist encircled by a ring of fat that practically engulfed it. Its eyes fell on Grace and she felt her insides shrivel up to nothing but dust.

Those shark-like eyes were all but lost behind slumping brows that were dragged down the creature's face, unable to resist the pull of gravity. Tiny, narrow teeth protruded from its fat and pouting bottom lip, a river of mucus-yellow saliva dribbling between its corners and the crease of its chin. This, along with its flat cheeks swallowed up its neck, blowing out like a frog's air sack.

The little mouth twisted itself into a wicked grin that simple said 'I'm going to eat you…'

"Grace!"

Jobe's gasping shout was all it took to break the hypnotic stare. Both pairs of eyes flashed over to the nest of smashed chairs and tables that had painfully broken his fall as he crawled out from the mess.

"Run, get the hell out"

Despite its hideous mass, Gluttony revealed just how fast it could shift its weight if it wanted to. Grabbing the nearest chair, it effortlessly hurled the seat at Jobe so fast that the flying projectile was nothing more than a brown blur. The man barely had time to duck behind another table as the chair smashed again the pile of its wooded brethren, shattering and fracturing against it.

Grace didn't need to be shouted at again to get moving and lunged at the caf's double doors, skidding dangerously on the tiled floor as she ran haphazardly towards them.

She launched herself into them, bracing herself for the searing kiss of pavement.

Except for the fact that the doors didn't budge one inch and instead, she harmlessly bounce off them and hit the floor, hard.

For a moment, she did nothing but lie there, trying to refill her winded lungs and come to terms with the dull ache that gripped her arm. That was until she heard the sound of Gluttony's approaching footsteps through the floor, each menacing 'thud' growing louder in her thumping ears. Grace turned her head buzzing with the delirium of fear and adrenalin, only to be greeted by the flabby trunk that was Gluttony's foot. Slowly, she traced it up till her eyes reached its summit. It was still grinning that hungry, childish smile.

It bent towards her; a chubby hand tipped with minute nails reaching greedily towards her.

Grace had heard over and over again how your entire life is meant to flash before your very eyes before you die. Obviously, that was just another lie churned out by the movie industry because all she seemed to be able to think about was how funny it was that she was going to be eaten by the 'Michelin Man' from hell.

The hand brushed against her face, its taunt skin the texture of rubber but that was as close as it got.

It paused.

And then a piercing wail erupted from its podgy face, splintering Grace's eardrum as she asked for the nth time what the FUCK was going on.

Gluttony's leg crumpled beneath it, the skin dyed a glistening red.

Grace's rather unspectacular flight into the double doors had distracted the lumbering giant long enough for Jobe to get behind the hulk and burry the axe's sharp head into its thigh with as much might as he could muster. He pulled it out and slashed at the limb again and again, ribbon's of blood streaking from its serrated edge.

The Sin tried to turn on him but stumbled, its feet desperately trying to keep a hold on the floor slick with its own blood. It stumbled fatally, going over its centre of gravity.

Grace's eyes went wide as she saw it tip horribly slowly towards her as if someone had turned on the slow motion effect. She all but managed to roll out of its way before it smashed into the spot she'd been laying in only seconds before. Shakily, she got to her feet, still staring at the walking mass as her heart hammered away at the back of her throat.

She tried to say something but the words just wouldn't come.

"C'mon, we need to find a way out of here."

She nodded dumbly at Jobe's gentle words and turned to follow him to find another way out of the café now that the conventional one had been blocked off. He couldn't help but glance at Grace (who looked as though she was trying not to be sick) from the corner of his eye as he began to walk away.

'Damn, that must have been one hell of a start for'

Something locked around Jobe's ankle and he went down. Grace spun in time to see the tiny, white hand yank his feet from beneath him and slowly start to drag the man towards the upturned head, its gross features twisted by wrath.

"NO!"

Grace jumped, coming down on the hand with a converse-clad foot with all she had. Even though she didn't weigh much (Jobe had silently noted to him self how petit she was.) there was a satisfying crunch of bone as they grinded together beneath the skin.

It howled, the smashed hand flying open and Jobe took off, grabbing Grace's thin wrist as he bolted towards the toilets. As they sailed through the doors, he glimpsed over his shoulder. To his horror, Gluttony was already struggling to its feet.

Grace saved herself from tripping as they stopped abruptly in the small room, glancing around frantically.

"What now?"

"Through there." Jobe pointed to a tiny window left adjacent, visible through one of the cubicle's open door. "You go first." He turned to the door, swapping the bloodied axe for the shotgun; franticly re-loading it while Grace jumped onto the toilet and dove through the window. She grunted as she wormed her way through the painfully tight hole, the wooded sill grating against her hips and side.

Jobe's eye flew from the door they'd been watching with a hawkish intensity when a curt scream shortly followed by a 'thud' cut the heavy air.

Grace had vanished from the window, gravity having carried her the rest of the way out, and he eagerly dove for the free square of grey light. He'd already got his head and shoulders out into the open air when there was the sound of crashing wood behind him.

"Help me!" His eyes shifted nervously to the woman, snapping her from the hold the sound of Gluttony's internal entrance had on her. Instantly, she grabbed a hold of the green material of his shirt and viciously tried to yank him free. He began to inch through, the arm with the shotgun slid out but it was never going to be fast enough by any stretch of the imagination. Jobe could see it in Grace's eyes as she valiantly tried to drag him through the window, biting her lip with effort.

Something else locked onto Jobe's thrashing leg but it wasn't the hand from before.

A million needle daggers's seared his calf, clamping down on his leg with a merciless force.

Grace fell back as Jobe screamed, the sound pregnant with ruptured pain. The army of vicious teeth came down again and he writhed against the narrow window in a vain attempt to free himself.

Grace leapt to her feet and grabbed onto the man again. No matter how much she pulled him, he just wouldn't come free…

Her eyes landed on the shotgun.

"Wha?" Was all Jobe could manage between screams as Grace tore the shotgun from his hand and ran off down the back ally the window looked out on.

'She she's left me here to die…'

The though flashed through his mind before it was yet again absorbed by the overwhelming pain as Gluttony's teeth came down on his leg.

Jobe barely heard the thunderous crack of the shotgun behind him, only aware of the brief gap in the pain that wracked his leg. The next five shot came more clearly, each one louder than the last as the mist of hurt started to clear. There was a silent pause, broken only by the sound of a hideously large dead weight hitting the floor while slow, dragged footsteps faded away in the background. Jobe finally came free of the window, tumbling towards the earth. For a while, he could do nothing but lye there and try to build up the courage to look at his leg. Fortunately, Grace provided him with a brief distraction. The woman walked towards him, dragging the shotgun listlessly behind her. Her eyes were focused on something a million miles away, a black expression of shell shock on her face. Stripes of Gluttony's crimson blood ran over it while the denim jacket was now mostly a sickly shade of brown. She sat down beside Jobe like a tonne of bricks and for a blissfully long time, each of them tried to come to terms with their separate injuries. The one's invisible to the naked eye ran so very much deeper…