Eh, I've been bad and carried on writing this through my exams which I really shouldn't have. Oh well, it's not like I would be revising every single free second I have…

Well, all you who've been wondering what Jobe did to get wound up in this whole fiasco, the moment of truth is at hand…

Envy: The final interlude

'What have I become, my sweetest friend,

Everyone I know goes away in the end.

You could have it all, my empire of dirt,

I will let you down, I will make you hurt.'

There was a final, twitching kick and silence slid back over the room, its smothering hold broken only by the dry creek of rope. Somehow, that cold, sharp sound was a hundred times worse than the chocking gasps.

Jobe clamped his eyes so tightly shut that his forehead began to ache, tears creeping from their corners and traced the lines of his face, but no matter how hard he pulled the covers of skin over them, they could not forget what they had seen.

Grace sat, as if made of wood, her face frozen in the same expression of incomprehensible shock. The only thing that mover were her pupils as they rolled back and forth, locked on the motionless Virgil's body as it swung to and fro. The rope creaked yet another chord with each gentle swing, singing out her lowly requiem.

Jobe tried to shut his eyes all the tighter, but to no avail. He could still see the moment when Casper lashed out, dragging away her only means of support. He could still see her fall, jerking as the rope caught her. He could still see her eye catching his, the moment before his own clamped themselves safely shut and that, above all else, had been the worst of it all.

Why?

For the simple reason that in her final moments, Virgil had been smiling. The girl knew as plain as day that the man she'd seen do so much and prevail for so long couldn't lift a finger to save her, and grinned morbidly at the fact that he knew it too.

That knowledge alone was enough to kill him.

"You son of a BITCH!"

Casper looked away from his swaying handy-work and saw Jobe glaring up at him from his spot on the floor with so much malice that for a moment, the German though he could feel the hatred in the man's eyes burn at his skin.

"You think you're some kind of holy man?!" Jobe's voice rattled in his throat, failing to reign in control as it rose. "You're nothing but a goddamn murderer!"

Casper shook his head gravely.

"Her death iz of no importance. Vhat are a few moment of pain to zhe eternal Paradise zhat your acceptance vill bring us a few steps close to achieving?" Casper paused his monologue, drawing himself up to his true, towering height. "Now Jobe, vhat is your true name?"

"I DON'T KNOW!" The chained up man roared back, spittle flying from his mouth. Casper watched the minute spray's flight until it seemingly disappeared into the air, remaining un-rattled by his captive's blatant stress. Clearly he hadn't pushed him far enough to see the truth, at least not yet.

"Vhat is your name?" He skipped back, singing the words as he avoided Jobe's thrashing leg and grinned as he left the screaming man kicking at nothing but empty air. "If you can bring yourself to remember, zhis von't have to carry on any longer than"
"Go to HELL!" Jobe jerked forward, not giving a damn about the sharp pain that exploded in his shoulder as the handcuffs yanked him back down to earth. All he could focus on was what he was going to do to Casper the minuet he broke out of these chains, letting the darkest and most violent thoughts flood his brain and plunging ever deeper into the frenzy he'd drowned himself in.

"You know, I don't think I like zhis attitude…" Casper raise an eyebrow and stifled a smirk as he watched the man before him strived against his bonds, legs slipping against the slick, moist floor. It was almost comical seeing Jobe trying so hard to get anywhere that even the veins running across his eyes looked as though they were about to burst with frustration, but ultimately getting nowhere closer to his target…

But all that struggling stopped the moment Casper whipped the sleek black pistol from behind his back. He cocked the weapon, and the ring of metal sliding over metal was all it took to render Jobe utterly still. In an instant, the delirious anger drained from him, joining the nameless wet that sloshed about the tiled floor and left him with nothing but empty dread to fill the capacity of his body.

Even the tireless creaking of the rope had submitted to the heavy silence.

"I'm sorry, mien friend, but you've forced mien hand…" Jobe's eyes went wide as he watched Casper lazily saunter over to Grace's chair, realization grabbing his heart in a mercilessly icy grip. "Maybe if you hadn't been so stubborn, I vouldn't have to do zhis." The woman screamed, a hideously muffled sound behind the tape that pinned her lips firmly shut no matter how much they writhed, her painfully stretched eyes on the barrel of the gun as it swept upwards. The tears of fear had begun to flow freely down her grimy face as Casper violently pressed the muzzle of the weapon into the side of her head, allowing himself a phantom of a grin to dance across his face as Grace whimpered with each twist of his wrist, digging the metal ever deeper into her skull. He never though, not even in his wildest dreams reducing her to the dog she was would be so… so satisfying.

"Wait…" Jobe choked, trying and failing yet again to free himself. His brain swam, there had to be something, anything he could do to stop-

"Vait? I've been vaiting patiently for you for so long, Jobe." Casper snapped back bitterly, killing Jobe's desperate cry. In the background, Grace howled, cringing as her tormentor dug the firearm even deeper into her scalp with each curt word. "Tell me your name, or I swear to god in heaven I'll blow zhis little bitch's head apart right in front of you!" Casper grinned, his skull like face twisting with manic malice. "And you vouldn't vant her death on your consciences asvell now, vould you?"

Grace wailed; the low, pitiful sound piercing the dank air.

"One…"

Casper's grip on the gun tightened.

"Two…"

Jobe threw his screaming self forward and went crashing face first into the floor as the chains yanked him back.

"Three…"

The still body of Virgil silently observed the scene unfold with unblinking eyes.

"Four…"

A trembling Grace cast Jobe a final, pleading glare.

"Five…"

And in that instant, the revelation hit Jobe with more force than any physical blow could ever muster and he remembered every thing….

Every horrific detail.

8 8 8

It had rained all day. The incessant drumming had been threatening to drive Jobe up the wall and out the window as he'd slaved away in front of a computer, his fingers banging numbly against the keys, ceasing to care what they were typing out.

But he was free of that now, he'd completed the dull, colourless work set but his boss and fled the soul-crushing environment of the office. It almost felt good to be saturated from head to toe, a wonderfully refreshing reminder that he was no longer copped up in the smothering world of fax machines, computers and photocopiers.

Jobe grinned. Today was going to be a good day, after all, with his brain switched off he'd managed to hand his work in substantially early and had been let lose almost an hour before the rest of his colleagues would be allowed to rejoin the real world. To make things better, Phil was going to be coming over and the three of them were going out for the evening, something he hadn't had the time to do in what felt like an era thanks to his job.

But there's always a cloud to accompany the silver lining, and the private rain burst that hovered over Jobe's head came in the form of Julia. They'd moved in together aeons ago and everything had been hunky dory. After all, they were a young couple with all to live for, especially each other but then…well, it was as if things had started to grow stale. At first, they didn't say anything but it was painfully obvious the spark that had pulled them together was starting to dim and the once ravenous hunger they had for the other was starting to ebb. Sure, Jobe still loved her but it just wasn't the same as before.

Then, out of the blue, she'd started accusing Jobe of ignoring her and spending way too much time at his 'precious' job. God, it was as if, as laughable as it sounded, she was jelousy of the damn thing. What, did she actually think he enjoyed pushing pencils? Well, she must have done for the argument that erupted from that particular comment ended with her threatening to walk out the door and the neighbours pondering over the possibility that the young couple down the hall had just murdered each other.

But just like any storm, it didn't last forever and the tension dissipated just as quickly as it came. Maybe Julia had seen the light and realised how unreasonable she was being but Jobe doubted that. She was way too headstrong to be capable of even visualising her self in the wrong let alone actually being it, but something changed and thank god it had. If it hadn't, then maybe one day in the not to distant future the neighbours would have to call the paramedics in…

It was the moment when Jobe slid his snug fitting key into the familiar lock that the sensation hit him; nothing major, just a tingly sensation of apprehension that itched at the back of his skull. The man froze in the hallway and let his hand go lax against the small, metal key. For a moment, it was as if time itself stopped with the man as he stood stock still in the grey afternoon light that flooded through the lonely window at the end of the corridor, the itch slowly progressing in to maddening paranoia. Suddenly, Jobe was utterly alone save for the rapidly growing dread that threatened to consume his entire being in one, hungry gulp.

Somewhere on the floor below, a door slammed shut and the world came back to life.

"Don't be stupid…" Jobe muttered to himself, shrugging off the feeling like one shrugs off an unwanted hand on their shoulder. He applied the tiny bit of pressure needed to the key and the lock sprung open with a dry click.

It was hardly an inviting sound…

'Stop it!' He hissed at himself. 'You're just over blowing everything. It's just a case of the heebie-jeebies, that's all…" Something in the back of his mind folded its arms stubbornly and scowled, muttering bitterly at being shouted down.

'You'll be sorry…' it hissed in a voice dripping with sullenness.

It was just as he was passing over the threshold to his familiar abode that a wave of high laughter hit him and the sense of foreboding bit back with a vengeance.

"Julia?"

No answer, only another crop of giggles that bubbled away somewhere in the depths of the apartment.

Jobe forgot the door as he tentivly began to walk towards the ecstatic sound at a painfully slow pace on feet that did all they could to stick to the carpet, his face contorted by a bewildered scowl. It didn't take long for him to click that the noise was trickling through the partially open bedroom door.

There was a heavy moan.

The man stopped dead in his track, inches from the almost sealed room. The rest of the world seemed to be blotted out in inky blackness, save for the narrow rectangle between the door and its frame. The traffic down bellow had ceased, replaced by animalistic sighs and grunts that threatened to deafen Jobe with their passion.

'Just walk away…' Some little voice deep with him pleaded, trying to pull him with arms made of nothing but air. 'We don't need to see this. Please don't do this to your-'

Too late. Jobe shifted his feet, allowing the bed to slide in to view. It wasn't empty.

He didn't cry, he didn't scream... hell, Jobe didn't even move a muscle as he let his eyes adjusted to the half-light that barely lit the room. He didn't need to see anyway, for deep down he already knew what was going on in the shadows of the bedroom.

Oddly, it wasn't rage that filled his heart as the image of Julia's body entwined with Phil's burnt itself onto his retina with merciless clarity, nor was it grief. It was something else altogether.

Jelousy.

It tore relentlessly through the man, infecting each and every nerve with its green toxins. It churned in the depths of his stomach and burnt away at the back of his throat, all the while poisoning his brain with its words.

Was this the reason Julia had relented? Had she found someone (ha, his oldest friend no doubt) else who had something Jobe lacked? Did that back stabbing little shit think he could take her away from him?

How dare they.

Jobe stepped back from the door without a sound, his face as blank as a weathered stone. It was as if something had pushed him into the back seat and was running the show for him, but Jobe didn't complain. Hell, he was more than happy to let it take over. He trudged back to the still open door of the apartment, so numbed that he didn't even feel his feet touch the floor as he dragged them listlessly across the floor.

Jobe was just about to draw the door too when he noticed the sleek, polished form of the baseball bat his brother had given him all those years ago poking rigidly out from beneath the coat rack, its handle emerging invitingly from underneath a heavy rain coat.

Jobe smiled to him self, the mirthless expression felt oddly alien on his face as he stooped towards it in an utter trance. He wrapped his hand around the grip and shut the door, closing off the out side world.

How dare they.

Jobe turned and mechanically crept back towards the bedroom, his clutch on the bat's handle growing tighter with each and every step.

How DARE they…

They were two engrossed with each other to notice as he slipped into the room, as silent as the shadows that hugged its sharp corners. With each step, he could feel the darkness's fearful eye on him as he drew up to the bed, praying that someone would turn on a light and banish it before it was forced to witness whatever was about to pass.

No such luck, for neither Julia nor Phil, entwined like a pair of vipers caught in each other's coils noticed the new smouldering presence in the room until it was too late.

"What dose he have that I don't?"

Phil turned his head in time to see a brown blur rapidly engulfing his vision. There was a burst of red and that was the last thing Phil ever saw, the sound of Julia's shrill screaming dying his ears as everything faded to black.

8 8 8

Only god in his infinite wisdom knew how much latter it was when Jobe finally snapped out of the lurid stat of semi-consciousness that had grabbed him only to find himself behind the wheel of his car, hurtling down some barren road that seemed to be cutting straight through the middle of nowhere. The familiar forms of buildings and houses had given way to a barren landscape that held nothing but grey trees that poked out tentivly from a thick fog.

'What the- how long have I been driving for?'

He was just about to shift his eyes from the windshield that revealed nothing but a world of empty fog to the clock when they caught on something red. Jobe blinked as his gaze dropped to his hands, pupils dilating to fine dots as the man saw his hands were absolutely caked with vibrant crimson that stood out almost painfully against the colourless world he'd suddenly found himself in.

Jobe let go of the wheel, not noticing the sticky print his hand left as he stared with mute horror at his hand.

"What…what have I done?" He croaked in a dry whisper, trying to hold back the waves of nausea as his mind began to play back the scene like a shaky, old projector and Jobe could do nothing to stop it.

Something heavy thudded dully in the boot as the car thundered along the lonely stretch of highway.

Jobe barely noticed the sign that stated a town known to the rest of the world as Silent Hill was only a few miles away, his mind far more preoccupied with rabidly trying to convince itself that none of that had really happened, and this was all just a mad nightmare…

Maybe if he'd been paying the outside world a little more attention, he would have seen the figure stubble out from the heavy fog that lined the road-side in time to swerve, but alas, that was not so.

A sudden explosion of sound shook the dead hills as the car collide with the shadow, losing all grip it had with the road as its screeching wheels were ripped free of the tarmac surface. There was a crack of metal fracturing as the vehicle hit the road again, this time on its side and came rolling to a halt. Silence slowly crept back over the hills and everything was still once more.

8 8 8

'What is my name?'

"envy…" Jobe whispered numbly, but the quiet sound was effortlessly drowned out by a sudden roar of gunshot.

A/N-

And in one fell swoop, I've managed to wipe out the majority of the cast…

Yes, I know this is horribly SH2 but as I've said (or at least think I have), that was the main inspiration of this story. Argh, I feel so cheep…

I've set a deadline for Christmas so this sordid affair should be finished by then. Thank you so very much to everyone who's read, you don't know how motivating you are.