Chapter 38: The evil that men do
The chair fell to the side, pushed over by the force of the shot and it and its occupant crashed into the floor.
"GRACE!"
But the woman did not respond to her name. Her wide, startled eyes stayed fixed on some invisible point that held them indefinitely, and she was blissfully ignorant to the dark pool of blood that grew around her head like a crimson halo.
"Sorry mien friend," Casper trilled in a voice that lacked any remorse for what he'd just done. "But you vere just zhat little bit too late…"
Jobe said nothing, unable to take his eyes from the still body of his one time friend as his stomach clenched violently. How… how could Casper have done that in such cold blood?
"I know just vhat you're zhinking." Came the tall German's retort to the unasked question as he replaced the pistol in his undersized belt that would have quite easily suffocated most normal built men. "But before you pass judgment, you should ask yourself zhe very same thing."
Jobe tried to come up with some sort of defence but the only thing that came to him was the image of Grace's head snapping back and a torrent of bloody rain erupting from the side of her skull. It left his mouth dry.
"See, you cannot question it," Casper crowed triumphantly, staring at Jobe down the sharp angle of his nose. "For in doing zhat, you vould be doubting vhat it is you are…" He drew a breath, but that dramatics of it all were lost on the audience. "…Envy." Casper closed his eyes in rapture as he spoke the word, letting the sense of fulfilment cores through his veins. The father and his pale prophet had given him a job, to enlighten those chosen seven who were going to aid god in rebuilding this ruined world, and he had finally completed the task they themselves couldn't do. It felt wonderful.
Grinning from ear to ear, Casper knelt down next to the man, pulling the rusty keys that were cut from the very same metal as the handcuffs binding Jobe.
"Come, do not be sad." He whispered in the lifeless man's ear as his nimble fingers worked the lock that held the metal rings around Jobe's wrists firmly shut. "Rejoice in your new found purpose, for you are going to do something marvellous!"
There was a dry snap as the cuffs sprung open.
"You will atone for man and-" But Casper never got the chance to finish for a hand leapt at the German's throat, silencing him with fingers that wrapped themselves greedily around his scrawny throat.
"Bastard!" Jobe rushed to his feet, pushing the thin man back as his other hand joined the first and drew an ever tightening circle around Casper's throat. "You've taken EVERYTHING!" He roared into the man's scrawny face. An eye, wide with naked terror rolled to look at Jobe and silently begged for him to let go.
"Can't…breathe…" Casper wheezed, the words barley able to escape his crushed wind pipe as he used up the precious oxygen already rotting in his lungs.
Jobe only tightened his grip.
"I don't want to save the world. I don't want to be a herald of your goddamn paradise. I don't want to remember!" With each word, the fingers wove themselves that little bit tighter; forcing livid red veins to crop up on the surface of Casper's rolling eyes. As the suffocating man stared at the damp, grey ceiling, the panic boiling in his chest took over and he found his long fingers snatching madly for the hand gun.
"And you, YOU took the last two people I had left! When is it going to be enough? WHEN?!" Through the rabid rage, Jobe saw the skeletal hand reaching for the exposed handle. Snarling, he let go of the man's throat and ripped it from his belt, effortlessly beating Casper to it.
"Nein!" The German screamed, reeling back from his former prisoner as Jobe took aim, his face twisted into a wrathful sneer. This was so very wrong… it wasn't meant to be like this. He should be gladly accepting his title, embracing it with open-
'BLAM'
The though was cut short by the sudden eruption of sound, magnified in the cramped confides of the room and Casper suddenly became very aware of the odd sensation spreading through his body from his chest. It felt as though someone had punched him, painlessly forcing their fist straight through his body. Confused, he looked down at the epicentre of this strange feeling and felt his eyebrows knot together when his gaze was met by a small circle of red, standing out against his stainless white shirt. Casper looked back up at Jobe with the face of a lost child.
"You- you shot me?"
But the only answer Casper got was a scream as Jobe lent his head back and vented his anguish into the rancid air before pulling the trigger again.
And again….
And again…
Pretty soon the only sound accompanying his song of pain was the hollow click of an empty chamber. He let the gun drop to his side and a dry, desolate sob broke into his roar.
Ever since Jobe had ventured into Silent Hill, a weight of fear, pain and sorrow had been condensing over him, following him wherever he went like some personal vulture, forever wheeling over his head. It was now that the thin supports holding it up finally gave under the impossible load, splintering like twigs and letting the whole thing come crashing down on the man.
He fell to the floor like a dead weight and cried, curling up on the cold, uncaring floor and whished for it to all just go away.
But it wouldn't, and Jobe knew it. The slumped form of Casper looked back at him with glazed eyes at the end of a gory trail smeared down the wall, serving as a painful testimony to what he truly was….
…Just another monster.
The end of this is nearly here. I know that was short but I though it would be better if I ended this chapter here and you all must be getting sick of reading five page chunks. Next chapter's going to be a little lighter as we go back to Parker and Claudia…
Until then, adieu.
