'Art of Grace' section has been added. Sorry this took so long to put up but this chapter was giving me HELL.
Chapter 29: And then there were three
It had to be the worst thing Grace had ever heard. The sound of Jobe's cracked scream made her writhe all the more against the living bonds that held her captive as she strived to break free like a rabid dog. The low shriek did nothing but whip her into frenzy, stripping her mind of all but one though.
'HELP HIM!' So absorbed by it that she didn't even notice the warm trickle that had slowly started to flow out from underneath the leather-like straps that firmly held her. No matter how hard the little voice in the back of her head screamed at her, her efforts were futile.
And all the while Jobe screamed.
Grace began to sob, falling flat against the restraints, and like a person stranded in a huge mass of water, finally let go, sinking into the overwhelming sense of defeat.
'Shhhnip'
The tears stopped. Grace's head instantly perked up like a startled rabbit's as the bonds on her left hand fell away. She looked up in time to see a flash of metal, sparking in the dark before the tight rope that wound itself round her right wrist were cut loose and she fell forward onto the shadow before her.
It caught her against its cold, damp body and Grace felt for a moment if she'd fallen into an old, dug up grave. The smell that rose from whatever garment it was wearing did nothing to break the elusion.
She looked up into the dark shadowed face, a hood falling flatly over it shading every feature in perpetual darkness. The only thing she saw was her own reflection in a pair of eyes that mutely glimmered like frosted glass.
For a brief moment, a crazy notion flitted across her mind that the angle of death had come to usher her off to the darkness but a refreshed scream from Jobe pushed this delusion far to the deep crevasses of her mind.
"You gotta help him, please!"
The faceless stranger glanced Grace over before breaking away and charging suicidaly at the bed that bore what could have once been a man named Mr. Kaprow. Jobe's tormentor twisted its crooked neck and there was a momentary break from the howls as its tendrils slackened. Jobe panted heavily, trying not to pass out as his body continued to scream at him. It was probably all the pain that gripped his muscles but he could have sworn he saw a glimpse of naked fear twist the deteriorated muscle structure of Sloth's face before an impossible expression of hate and frustration clouded its features as it examined the new comer.
"Why must you interfere?" The voice that rose from the gaping hole that served as a mouth was nothing more than a dry whisper, as if the beast was trying to speak as it inhaled. Jobe willed himself to turn his head to see what, or rather who, had yanked Sloth's rag. The man lifted his head but that was as far as he got to identify the newcomer as gravity finally caught up with him and he fell.
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Grace didn't waist her time sitting around, she'd already done enough of that to learn that it almost certainly lead to a near-death situation and she'd had more than enough of those in the last two hours to last her a life-time.
Her saviour had de-accelerated to a slow trot, approaching the bed with what looked like some kind of sword drawn and ready. Grace caught sight of the fallen fire-axe, the sharp edge of its head glinting in the low ambient light as if winking and whispering in a smooth voice 'come on, Grace, pick me up. You and I, we'll have a whale of a time!' The offer seemed very attractive.
The woman lunged for it as Sloth suddenly became aware of the ever growing shadow in it peripheral vision. It turned its head and felt one of its worn, ruddy eyes twitching.
"Why must you always interfere?"
Grace scooped up the axe and charged haphazardly towards Sloth's bed, skipping over the ever-thickening forest of leathery tendrils. She was going to cause some serious damage to this lazy son of a bitch and she was going to have a 'whale of a time' doing it.
She swung the axe with all her might at the closest vine that held Jobe captive and suspended limply over Sloth, grinning as if she belonged to be locked away with Moroi, Stanley, Leonard and the other inhabitants of this institution.
The axe sliced through the dry vine, severing it effortlessly. So unpredicted was the action that Sloth screamed, dropping its captive as its gasping roar of pain blasted through the room. Jobe landed directly on the frail copse, muffling its cry of protest.
Grace refreshed her psychotic smile, raising the axe high over her head as she prepared herself to bid adieu to Sloth's gnarled foot…
…Well, that was until she felt something moving against her own.
She looked down, just in time to see something rush with unprecedented speed towards her face. She only managed to get the "Oh" of 'oh shit' out before the tendril smacked her full in the face, sending her head snapping back. Grace actually managed to see the spray of blood that shot from her nose rise above her in a crimson arc as she stumbled back.
'This is all the axe's fault…' Was the last coherent though to scramble through her swimming brain before she hit the ground, consciousness fleeting like a dream.
"GRACE!" Jobe leapt from the bed, not giving the stranger a second thought as he stumbled over the wasted limbs of the Sin. He felt one of the twisted vines wrap itself around his waist and rip him from the bed, launching him head first into the nearest wall, the only thing that saved his skull splintering instantly on impact was the unforgiving bed that caught him.
Sloth watched with mild amusement as Jobe slid numbly down the matters, collecting in a heap on the floor before turning its drawn face back to the person who stood by the bed.
"What?" It wheezed mockingly, its ribs rising and falling erratically. "Have you come to kill me?" The hooded figure remained silent, slowly raising the oriental sword she grasped tightly. "I see…" Sloth continued, narrowing its eyes to nothing but vicious white slits. "Well, I'm afraid you're going to have to try a lot harder than that!"
Virgil registered the brownish blur out of the corner of her eye as one of the tendrils lunged at her. She jumped forward, knees banging against the hard metal rail that held the bed together as the living vine whipped through the air where her head had been only seconds before. She glowered down at the wasted figure on the bed, the kantana twisting in her hand as she drew it up, the o so sharp point aimed at its chest.
Without blinking, she brought it down, savouring the sound of tissue ripping apart as the metal blade carved its way through its gut. Sloth screamed again, arching its back as it tried to come to terms with the sudden pain that tore directly through it. For a moment, it struggled against the sword that had impaled it, pinning it to the bed like some butterfly in a collection.
Sloth turned its rigid neck, its weeping eyes locking with Virgil's.
"This rebellion of yours is pathetic!" It spat, choking on its own words. "Do you really think you can do anything to stop the rise of god?" It panted, whatching the girl for any reaction as the room fell quiet except for the sounds of Grace slowly stirring back into life.
"No."
"Then why do you persist?"
"Because I can." Virgil grimaced and twisted the sword as hard as she could, ripping the thing's stomach to ribbons.
There was no scream this time, only a long dry gasp as Sloth went rigid and dug its bony fingers into the bed's sodden matters. Slowly, the eyes began to glaze over and the fingers gradually let go. Virgil pulled the sword free, wiping the blood off onto the moth-eaten sheet that stretched across the bed, silently whatching the deep crimson stain that spread out across it from underneath the 'fresh' corpse before turning her attention to the woman.
Grace had already propped herself up, gazing up at the figure who towered over her.
"You you killed it…" She mumbled in disbelief as she struggled up to her feet, her feet slipping on the tiles as the rubber soles refused to grip onto the slick floor. The figure remained silent, ducking its hooded head as if trying to shrink back from Grace's curious and awe-filled gaze.
"You're bleeding…" Virgil muttered, her words barely audible. Grace raised a hand to her nose and winced as her fingers brushed against it, setting of a sharp sting but she did her best to shrug it off. She'd been damn lucky to escape with nothing but a broken nose, had Jobe been as lucky?
"Jobe?" Graced wheeled around, desperately scanning the room for any sign of her companion. Virgil broke away from her side, slowly stalking towards the opposite wall, her eyes fixed on the curled up form of the man that lay at the base of one of the beds. The girl crouched down beside Jobe, gently rolling him over as Grace drew up behind her, whatching with fearfully anticipation.
"Is he…"
The man's eyes fluttered open and there was a pause as Jobe blinked, trying to clear his vision.
Then he planted his balled fist unforgiving into Virgil's face.
The girl tumbled back clutching at her feet as Jobe jumped to his feet and rounded on her. Grace dove out the way as he thundered past her on his warpath after Virgil and for a moment all she could do was gaze after them, her jaw hanging slack as she was absorbed by bewilderment.
"You goddamn BITCH!!!"
He lunged at the girl with a fist, snarling with contempt as she shifted out of harms way, holding her hands out, the very gesture imploring peace.
"Please, Jobe, you have every right to hate me"
"Damn right I do!" His fist sailed again, connecting with her check. His other fist went to follow its brother's path…only to find itself encased in Virgil's palm. Jobe blinked in disbelief the fact she'd caught his hand. He didn't get a chance to free it as he felt another clap down viciously on his shoulder.
"STOP IT!" Grace roared, sending his ears ringing. "What the hell's wrong with you? She just saved our lives and you're try to kill her?"
"Save our lives?" Jobe snapped sarcastically, glaring viciously at the woman over his shoulder. "This…" Jobe stopped, daring himself to say the word but hey, if she chose to crush his fist then it proved his case quite nicely. "…Freak's tried to kill me. Twice!"
Grace's eyes leapt from Jobe to Virgil and back again, brimming with confusion.
"I won't deny it but I swear I didn't mean to!" Virgil piped, only to get another sneer from Jobe.
"You didn't mean it? It sure didn't look that way to me when you trashed the van!"
Grace broke in again, frowning as she spoke.
"I thought you said I was the first person you met?"
"Yeah, sorry about that…to be honest, you're the fifth including those two down there, someone as equally crazy as them and this thing…" He jerked his head towards Virgil. "But then she's nothing more than another monster," He turned his gaze back to her. "Aren't you, Virgil?" The girl squirmed uncomfortably on the spot.
"Please Jobe, I'm sorry…I…" She trailed off, knowing no excuse would appease Jobe. There was an uncomfortable silence, broken yet again by Grace.
"Jobe, I don't know what the hell's happened between you two but you're being a royal shit. She saved us"
"Oh, so you're taking this freak's side now"
"Stop calling her THAT!"
Jobe snorted and Grace found herself starting to back away. Just catching the dark glint that sparked wildly in his eye made her shudder.
'He's gone mad… completely mad'
If Virgil had seen it, she would have recognised it instantly as the same one Jobe himself saw in Phil's decaying eyes and in her own before that unfortunate incident in the truck that had laid the seeds for this scene.
But those weren't the only time's this 'spark' had cropped up in Virgil's bizarre history…
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She'd met Curtis Green in the bowls of this very hospital. When she'd first met him, it would have been hard to believe that the man had been a highly successful lawyer before he'd stumbled into the town of Silent Hill. If you were to look up 'nervous breakdown' in a medical dictionary, there would be a picture of him right next to the signs of symptoms. She'd managed to entice the quaking, stuttering heap of a man from the hospital back to the (relative) safety of the sewers and managed to keep him from going right over the edge for four whole days.
On the fifth, she'd lost him.
She'd been trying to get him to eat something other than the vitamin tablets he'd been slowly chewing, in a fashion that suggested he was teetering on the edge of catatonia, ever since she'd dragged him screaming from the hospital when he'd asked the question.
"Can you hear something?"
"Huh?" (The yet to be named) Virgil dropped the spoon she'd been holding, letting it rest inside the can she held as she strained her ears.
"It it sounds like voices…" Curtis trailed off, his already wrinkling brow furrowed with concentration. Virgil watched him wearily from underneath the peak of her hood as Curtis closed his eyes, the orbs visibly racing back and forth under the thin rolls of pink skin. "They're saying something…"
They snapped open and slowly, he turned his head to Virgil. She felt her throat cramp up when she saw the grin that was cracked across his face but the thing that really made her blood run cold were the eyes. There was something in them.
Something dark…
And in that instant, Virgil knew the town had finally hunted her down.
"They want to know why you've been keeping me here," Curtis rose to his full towering high and loomed down at the girl. "They want me…I see it now," He looked down at his hands as if liquid gold ran beneath his very skin. "I have my part to play, and so do you…but…" He stalled, squinting as if trying to understand some great truth. "…You…don't want too…"
By this point, Virgil's fingers had crept back to the spoon and clasped it so tightly that is smooth edge could slice them open easily. Curtis's eyes had fallen upon the upon a misplaced wrench that lay on the floor next to his foot. In a blink of an eye it was in his hand and he was slowly lumbering towards the girl, thick, dead laughter bubbling in his throat.
He'd lunged at her but somehow, the spoon had found its way into the lawyer's neck before he'd managed to land a blow, the flat, silver head rupturing skin and slashing his jugular vein open…
She'd dumped the body in one of the underground reservoirs, whatching as the body slowly sunk to the depths of the muddy, artificial lake of waste.
He'd become nothing more than yet another tool of the town…
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"You don't believe me?"
Virgil was torn from the memory as Jobe whipped his encased fist back, reeling the unsuspecting girl with it and catching her in a chock hold, wrapping his free arm around her throat.
"Take a good look at this and tell me she's not another monster!"
"NOOO!" Virgil choked, her voice grating as Jobe's forearm clamped down on her neck like some iron bar, helpless to do anything as he viciously tore the hood back, grinning triumphantly.
For a moment, there was silence as Grace slowly lifted her hands to her mouth, her eyes wide with quite horror and repulsion but the message was loud enough for Virgil as the woman looked up and down her ruined face.
Grace had never seen anything like it in her life, trying to control the weird hybrid between pity and disgust that rose within her for the girl. It was as if her very features had been viciously scowered off, leaving nothing but cracked skin and scar tissue behind. All she could manage was a quiet "Oh my god…" as she tried not to stare; all the while the girl grimaced under her gaze as if it caused her some deep pain.
In truth, it did.
"See?" Jobe goaded, and that one word was all it took for something snapped in the girl he held captive. The roar burst from her mouth as she violently bucked forwards, sending the man tumbling over her bent back. He hit the floor with a crack as hot pain shot up his spine, gasping as the air gushed from his lungs.
Virgil rose up over the downed man, casting a low glance at Grace before pulling up the hood.
"He's right. I was just trying to help but maybe it would be for the best if I just…" She turned her back on the woman, who still stood slacked jawed, and took a step towards the door. "Oh, and I found this. You two might need it." She whispered heavily in her horribly cracked voice, tossing something over her shoulder. The small object flailed through the air before hitting the tiled floor with a soft jangle, sliding to a halt against the side of Grace's shoe. By the time the woman looked back to Virgil, the stooped girl had almost made it out the door.
"Wait!" She took a step after the shadow, subconsciously reaching towards her in some effort to appeal to her to stay. The girl stopped, casting a glace over her hunched shoulder. "Who are you?"
Virgil let out a lone choke of laughter and it made Grace want to plug her ears, so soulless was the sound.
"I'm just another monster."
And with that, she vanished back into the dark abyss that was Brook Haven Hospital.
"Oh man…" A voice behind the woman moaned and Grace turned on the man who was in the act of slowly propping himself up, rubbing his forehead. He felt as though someone had set a firework off inside his head, his temples thudding to a painfully precise beat that sent a fresh wave of dots dancing across his vision.
"What happened to it?"
Jobe seriously considered running like a mad man when he saw the look of sheer venom that set on Grace's face.
"It?" She hissed. "It left Jobe."
"Left?" Jobe's brows furrowed. "How could it, that thing was strapped to the bed."
"What?" The scowl momentarily melted, replaced by a look of utter confusion. Jobe reluctantly let the hand messaging his head momentarily leave its post and point at the bed, now almost completely dyed the deep, unmistakeable red tone of blood.
"Sloth…"
Grace was beginning to wonder if she was missing something.
"What the fuck are you on about? Virgo squared that thing!"
"Virgo?" Jobe jumped up in a flash, suddenly forgetting all about the vindictive headache. "You mean Virgil? She was here?"
Grace let out a shuddery laugh, not quite sure she was hearing the words tumbling from Jobe's mouth correctly.
'This is unbelievable…'
"Yeah, she was here. You watched her kick the crap outta that 'Sloth' before you TRIED TO KILL HER!" Grace found her voice rising uncontrollably; the gormless expression that adorned Jobe's face didn't help dampen the urge to slap him stupid. "That ring any bells?"
"What are you on a" Jobe stopped, something catching his words as an expression of sheer horror began to slowly gestate as the truth bulldozed into him. "Oh god…"
He fell quite, slowly shaking his head as if that could some how stop the memory of the last few minuets playing over and over like some skipping record in his head. Of course, it was no avail.
Somehow, he managed to muster the will power to look into Grace's eyes, even though he felt as though nothing would suite him more than crawling back under one of the beds and curling up in the darkness, with only that and his damning shame to keep him company. Grace wouldn't have protested.
"Where did she go?" The only answer he got from the woman was a grunt as she turned her back on him.
"What? You want to go finish the job?"
"Grace, I'm being serious!"
The woman turned on him, and in that single moment, Jobe truly did understand the phrase 'hell hath no fury than a woman scorned'.
"So am I!" She bit back, sneering. "Jesus, I've never seen anyone go completely off the handle like that! What the hell were you thinking?!"
Jobe raised his hand in some feeble attempt to appeal to Grace, only the words never came and the hand dropped limply to his side. He hung his head.
"…I wasn't." He whispered, more to the floor than anyone else. It was true, but there was no way he could explain it to Grace without her thinking he was just trying to dig him self out of the hole he'd landed quite nicely in. The moment he'd opened his eyes and seen Virgil, It was as if every iota of malice and hate he'd even born against her consumed him. In the few minuets, nothing other than reducing the girl to a bloody mess would appease the overdose of rage that flooded his system. For a moment, it had been as if someone else had been at the controls…
'This town, it does things to people…' the words echoed round his head, and the man began to wonder if he'd just suffered from the same disorder that had inspired Virgil to crash the van, and slice his hand open. God help him if it got to Grace before they managed to get out of here…
Jobe took a step towards the door, unconsciously causing the pain in his leg to flare, almost downing him.
"What are you doing?" Grace did nothing to help the man as he stumbled from the room, watching with cold eyes.
"I'm going to apologise, for all the good it'll do."
The man limped from the room, the sound of his limp foot squeaking against the floor slowly trailing away.
Alone, Grace bit her lip as she tried to work out just who's side everyone else was on, all of this was enough to make her spin. With a disgruntled sigh, she opened her fist, revealing Virgil's parting gift.
A set of car keys winked back at her from the palm of her hand.
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scccccch-chunk
The sound of the butt of the shotgun's handle hitting the floor echoed lifelessly up the claustrophobic hallway as Jobe lumbered along it, retracing his steps to the entrance.
Sccccch-chunk
He winced at the pain as he dragged his foot but remained silent. He more than deserved it.
Sccccch-chunk
As much as he may have told himself he hated Virgil, he'd never actually wanted to hurt her, and the way he had was unfathomably malicious.
Sccccch-chunk
"Let me give you a hand, that noise is going to drive me mad."
Jobe craned his neck, only to see a shadowy Grace standing behind him, the fire axe tossed carelessly over her shoulder. He didn't protest as she slipped an arm around his shoulders and began to gently lead him down the hallway towards the weak light that poured through the open entrance.
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Virgil lent heavily against the wall (almost a parody of Jobe's newfound walk) that lined the entrance walkway a little too hard. Deep down, she almost enjoyed the tingling sensation as the rough brickwork raked against her tattered skin and she was still dizzy from slamming her head against it. For reasons we could not begin to understand without a good comprehension of physiology, the girl had managed to convince her self that this masochistic punishment was more than necessary. Encoring Jobe's wrath like that was bad, and having disgusted that woman just by her physical appearance was even worse…
Once again, the town had proven to her that she was meant to be alone.
"Virgil!"
The girl stopped dead at the sound of her appointed name and turned.
Jobe and the woman had already started their messy decent down the flight of stone steps that lead to the hospital's entrance, their bodies moving to fast for their feet to keep up and for a moment, the girl feared the pair would trip as they staggered drunkenly towards her.
"Virgil," Jobe gasped again, breaking off from the poor woman whom he'd practically been draped over and stumbled towards the girl. "I know you probably won't even listen to this, and I don't blame you but I'm so sorry"
"P-please, don't"
The girl cut him off and even though Jobe had been expecting this, he felt crushed. He'd been desperately hoping that she'd at least hear him out.
"I understand, so there's no need, you see?" From the rush, shuddery way she said it, you would have thought she'd been the one to have the momentary slip of sanity.
Grace almost collapsed there and then. How could anyone possibly be so forgiving?
Jobe would have started gushing apologies there and then had not Virgil meekly continued.
"After all, it's not my place to judge you. I-if anything, I'm sorry for putting you in such a position."
This was all too much for Grace.
"Wait, you're apologising to him?!"
Virgil turned to her and nodded slowly as she rasped.
"If you'd been hear for as long as I have, y-you'd see that this place has a habit in bringing out the worst in people"
As the last word crossed her lips, Jobe saw all the confidence that had fuelled her mild outspokenness burn out as she dropped her head, avoiding Grace's quizzical staring and collapse upon her self. He felt a quiet smile begin to form upon his face.
Something crossed Grace's face and she dug a hand into her pocket, pulling something from it and holding it out towards the girl.
"Hey, what's up with this key you gave me?"
Virgil allowed herself a short, nervous grin before jerking her head towards the road, nothing but a dark grey smear through the milky billows of fog. Despite that, even from where they stood, the large, solid shadow was almost visible.
Jobe took a shaky step towards it, coming so close to pinching himself to make sure that he wasn't asleep in some dank corner of the town as the (rather badly parked, the thing was practically at a right angle to the road) car slowly materialized out of the fog, revealing a little more of itself with every step he took.
Despite it looked as though the wheels could roll free at any moment and there was more rust than paint on its metallic outer shell, it was the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen.
He turned to Virgil, grinning from ear to ear.
"Thank you…" He rushed as she handed him the key. She cringed at his words, as receiving complements had become an almost completely forging notion to her. Jobe turned his attention to Grace. "You still going to come, right?"
The woman scuffed her foot against the pavement thoughtfully. This guy had flipped from one extreme to the other fast enough to leave her wondering if he was some kind of schizophrenic, but the girl had managed to somehow forgive him, so why couldn't she. After all, he'd seemed like a pretty level guy before all that. Plus, how else was she going to get out of here other than through something unsavoury digestive system?
"What the hell," She sighed cynically; letting her self into the back of the once cream coloured automobile. "As long as you don't crash this one as well…"
Jobe slid himself into the driver's seat with a self-content smirk that quickly passed. It was scary how much everything had changed in the last few hours…
He made to put the key in the ignition but the sound of a third door being slammed shut staved his hand. Jobe glanced up in the mirror, only to see Virgil staring blankly up at him from the back seat, instantly shifting when she caught the man's eye's in the glass's dusty surface as if he'd caught her with a hand in the metaphorical cookie jar.
"If you don't want me to come, then just say…"
"No. Please, stay."
Virgil froze.
"Y-you really mean that?" She choked out the words in dumb disbelief.
"Of course, I owe you more than that."
A gloomy silence fell over the car as it pulled away from the hospitals entrance, melting effortlessly into the fog. Soon, even the sound of the car's engine faded away into the mist and the town resumed its cold silence. Yet, for those who could stretch their ears to hear the sound would be able to tell there was something content in it and those who could see would know it was smiling,
For the town knew it hadn't seen the last of them…
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A/N: The first part of this chapter was written to 'Linkin Park's Breaking the Habit and…well, despite the amount of people who hate that groupe, it kinda goes. Next chapter, we'll be learining a little more about who Virgil is, though I fear most of you have probably worked it out…
