There's an added picture of out two recently acquainted sins in my profile but without further a do, here's the next chapter.
Chapter 26: Keys to the Kingdom
"I'm not going to get a sane answer if I ask you what that thing was, am I?"
Jobe looked up from where he lay on the ground at the spot where Grace sat. Only silence hung heavily in the air between them. "Thought not…" Her head sunk dejectedly behind her knees.
Foe someone whose world had been turned upside down in the blink of an eye, Jobe thought she was taking it quite well. With a grunt, he sat himself up and finally built up the courage to take a look at his leg. The good news was that it wasn't as bad as it felt. The bad news was that it felt as though his lower leg had felt as though it had been all but stripped of flesh.
His trouser leg had been soaked a muddy brown, the little material that wasn't torn to ribbons saturated with blood. Through the gapping holes in the cloth, countless vibrant red teeth punctures were clearly visible; each was weeping tears of stark crimson blood.
Jobe suddenly found himself feeling very light-headed.
"Are you sure you're alright?" Grace's voice asked again, the concern welling in it. Something hadn't quite rung true in his voice the first time she'd posted the question and she'd just seen him recoil when he'd peaked at his leg.
"Absolutely…"
"Jobe, I've known you for what? The grand total of ten minuets and already I can tell you can't lie to save your life." She got and walked towards him. Jobe tried his best to shift it subtly out of her direct line of vision as Grace knelt down next to him. "Let me see."
"It's perfectly fine and I'm not about to start taking health advice from a woman who thinks you can contract salmonella from a"
"Oh my God!"
Despite his best efforts to hide the worst of it, she'd still seen.
"It's nothing!" He snapped at the prying woman, dragging it further away from her wide eyes. They couldn't afford to waste anytime getting out of here worrying about a mere flesh wound.
"Nothing?" She echoed hotly. "It looks as though you fell into a meat-grinder! Can you even stand on it?"
"Of course I can!" gritting his teeth, telling himself that his mind was only playing up the throbbing pain. Grace watched cynically as he shakily rose to his feet, his face set in an expression of grim determince as if his very existence depended on proving the woman wrong. He stood up at his full height…
…For about two seconds before the mauled leg crumpled like paper beneath his weight.
"Ok, maybe it's a little sore," He grudgingly admitted, a gross understatement if there ever was one. "But we really can't afford to stay in this town for any longer…you saw that thing in there with your own two eyes, didn't you? Well that's only the start of it! This place is packed with a whole horde of freaks just like that one…" Jobe cut himself before he started to rant and took a deep sigh. "I 'm just saying, we should forget about this and try to get out of here as fast as we can, ok?"
"And just how do you plan to do that if you can't even walk?"
Jobe opened his mouth to fire off his reply only to find he didn't have one at the ready.
"Anyway," Grace continued, intent on destroying any argument he my have built up. "What would be the point if you finally did get out of this place only to collapse from blood-loss or septicaemia?" She folded her arms, waiting for his retort. There was none.
"So what do you propose we do about this?" He nodded to his leg, trying to ignore that the wounded appendage felt as though it was on fire. Sullenly, he had to admit Grace was right. If they didn't do something about it soon it might as well turn out to be just as lethal as any of the lumbering abominations that called Silent Hill home.
Grace's folded arms dropped to her sides.
"I'm not to sure…" She saw the flash of restrained anger flash across Jobe's eyes and hurriedly offered a rushed answer before he exploded. "I guess we should bandage it up to stop the bleeding?"
"With what?"
Grace scanned the dank back ally for something, anything that could be salvaged while asking herself if this man was always going to be such damn –stubborn pessimist. Her eyes fell on her ruined jacket. Even though it was cold enough to think twice before licking the nearest lamp post, Grace wouldn't miss the coat that made her look as though she'd just done a particularly messy shift in an abattoir.
She slipped the coat off her shoulder and gave it one last look goodbye before grabbing it by the now frayed shoulder and viciously yanking the worn material apart. Jobe watched as she tossed the jacket into a near-by trashcan and turned to him with the limp piece of denim dangling from her hand.
"If I get hypothermia, I'm so going to kick your ass."
The two hobbled from the ally out onto the open street as if doing some bizarre three-legged race, moving painfully slowly as Grace tried to support the man draped over her, leaning heavily on the shotgun Jobe had presented her with.
"How…much…further?" She gasped, wheezing like an old woman as they hobbled down yet another foggy street, their feet dragging on the slick, wet tarmac. They'd only been moving for what couldn't have even been five minuets and already, her tar-clad lungs were just about ready to pack in on her. For the umpteenth time since she'd started, Grace wondered if she should seriously consider quitting smoking…then she remembered how much she wanted a cigarette right now and pushed the idea to the back of her mind.
Jobe looked at the map in his free hand, wincing each time his foot came down.
"Not to far…it should just be down the next road."
Since accepting Grace's proposal to try and amen some of the damage inflicted to his leg, a light had gone of in his brain and he dimly recalled Virgil mentioning something about a hospital. On opening the map, he'd seen that she hadn't been spinning yarns, and there was in fact not just one, but two hospitals in the town. Despite being spoilt for choice, 'Brook Haven' was considerably closer than the other and the vote had been unanimous.
"So…" Grace puffed in an attempt to make some type of conversation that would momentarily distract her from the slow feeling of asphyxiation, "What's up with this town?"
"I don't think you'd believe me if I told you."
"Please, after that thing in the café I wouldn't doubt it if you told me Elvis lives…"
Jobe feet suddenly stopped dead and the small woman only just managed to stop herself from introducing her face to the pavement. "Wha?"
"Did you…" Jobe stopped himself, the expression of bewilderment on Grace's face clearly saying that she hadn't heard the sound of yet another pair of feet on the pavement behind them that belonged to neither of them. He shook his head; perhaps his mind was just playing up on him in petty revenge for subjecting it to the twisted atmosphere of the town. "Never mind."
Jobe shot one last look at the fog behind them, half-heartedly expecting to see some monstrosity standing with open arms, ready to pounce, but there was nothing there save the empty grey air. He gave a dismissive snort, glowering at the concealing billows of fog before they continued their awkward pilgrimage down the street.
"What was that all about?"
Jobe hung his head, pulling his lame leg behind him. "I thought I heard"
This time they both stopped.
Jobe twisted his head painfully fast over his shoulder, ignoring the yank of momentary pain as his muscles protested, in time to see the fleeting black shadow melt back into the fog. Grace felt the sudden tautness that flooded his body.
"What?" She snapped her head over her shoulder, furiously trying to get a glimpse of whatever it was.
"Let's just keep going." Jobe urged, his voice had gone horribly quiet as he whispered quickly. Grace felt the flesh on her back creep at the sound of it and didn't protest.
They'd barely moved when the thing burst, howling, from the fog.
"RUN!"
Jobe's yell wasn't needed; Grace was already frantically dragging him up the street before the single syllable left his mouth. He stumbled, desperately trying to match the remarkable burst of speed that he'd never expect the woman (who only seconds ago was having enough trouble walking, let alone running) to be capable off. Human desire for self-preservation can be a wonderful thing at times…
There was the sound of cracking glass as their faceless pursuer propelled itself into the air and came smashing down on one of the dejected cars that cluttered the pavement like rusting litter. Grace saw nothing but a ghostly siloet as the straggling pair put another few meters between them and it. There was another squeal of metal as the thing jumped from the roof of the car, twisting the roof even further.
Jobe saw it looming out of the fog like some great black hole, intent on swallowing them up in the overwhelming darkness of its form.
Without thinking, Jobe whipped the nearly spent handgun from his belt and plugged a final round into the beast's chest and the Drowned hit the floor with a wet thump. He didn't bother to see if it stayed down. Grace began to slow, curiosity taking the edge off the blinding terror that frayed her nerves like a drug.
"DON'T STOP!" he pushed her forward and the pair continued their mad race towards 'Brook Haven Hospital', the tall building now visible towering over its shabby neighbours, standing out almost proudly from the eternal fog that choked the town.
The sound of inhumanly fast footfall began to hammer away again behind them, the Drowned's tattered feet madly pounding the pavement. Jobe and Grace bolted up the hospital's gravel path, pushing each other toward the derelict building's open door, all the while the rabid thing was feverishly snapping at there heals. Jobe caught the door as they sailed through it and propelled the heavy metal panel shut, sending a vibrant echo up the empty hallway. His legs finally gave on him and both he and Grace when sprawling on the slick lino floor.
There was a final roaring impact as the Drowned lunged in vain at the door as its pray was swallowed up by the hospital before a deathly quietness slipped over the place.
They didn't call it Silent Hill for nothing.
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A/N
E.P.O- I'll agree, it's difficult not to draw the simerlarities between the 'insane cancer' and 'gluttony'. Once you've seen one fat blubber monster, you've seen them all. As I said before, I came up with the idea for this story and the indivdual 'sins' long before SH3 came into existence so when I first saw an 'insane cancer' it was like "damn…"
For a clue as to the next sin, take a peek at chapter 8 of a story called 'Story's End' by Q1
Rodarian- Grace's role in the story will be reveald…eventually.
Snickers- don't worry, Casper will be making another apperence in a chapter or two. Lol, by now, Jobe should probably be dead.
