Chapter 25: Awake
Eyes fluttering open, Beth saw a white ceiling above her. Fluorescent lighting. Grey linoleum floor. Warm, comfy bed.
Bedridden.
Beth gasped, ripped back the sheet and jumped out from the bed. As she landed bare-footed on the floor, a dull pain throbbed in her left hip. She ignored this and limped away from the bed as fast as possible. Two armchairs were situated in the corner farthest from the bed. Beth half sat down, half collapsed on the unoccupied one. She scanned the room for some kind of weapon, waiting for the Bedridden creature to emerge.
It never did.
"You're awake?" the nurse in the chair to her right asked. She had apparently fallen asleep herself while reading a magazine, which now lay closed in her lap. The noise when Beth escaped from the imaginary monster had awoken her, though.
"Yeah," Beth said. The shock of remembering the Bedridden had faded away, and a deep feeling of embarrassment pervaded her thoughts. How could she have been so stupid? The Bedridden, the Nymphs, Caliban, Reapers, God … It had all been ridicolous figments of one big nightmare.
The nurse frowned. "Why did you just run off from your bed? Had a bad dream?"
Beth nodded.
"Well, don't you wanna know what happened to you, Miss … Kalember, right?"
Beth nodded. "I was hit by a taxi?"
"We don't know what kind of car it was," the nurse answered. "Some passers-by just found your body lying on the middle of the road. They called an ambulance, and we patched you up. Your left hip may be a bit sore right now, but it should wear off in a few days."
Beth ran her eyes over the room. The windows gave a view of Hooper Lake City's dull afternoon streets. A few cards on the bedside table ordered her to get 'well' and 'better' soon. "How long have I been here?"
"You were brought in on January 9th, so that's about one and a half weeks ago," the nurse said. "Today's Wednesday the 19th."
A few moments of odd silence passed. The nurse was about to start reading her magazine again, when Beth asked: "Do you have a patient named Dean? Dean Frost."
The nurse dropped her magazine, eyes widening. "How do you know about him?"
Beth sighed. "It's a long story. Is he a patient here?"
"He was," the nurse said. "Died in his sleep last week. No one can figure out why. He seemed quite healthy – physically speaking, that is. He was in the mental wing. MPD case."
"MPD?"
"Multiple Personality Disorder. Anyway, the whole hospital's completely puzzled as to why he passed away. It doesn't make sense … Just like that other mental patient, Carter Linch Bandfield."
Beth remembered the Caliban creature she had killed. Her face turned pale at the memory. "What about Shelley? Do you have an anorexic patient named Shelley?"
The nurse hesitated. "Are you a relative of hers? We're not supposed to give information about …"
"Look, I just want to know if she's alive," Beth interrupted, glaring hard at the nurse. "Is that too much information to give?"
"Fine," the nurse said. "Yes, she's alive." She smiled at the memory of her anorexic patient, who had been showing glimpses of progress during their last few counselling sessions.
The nurse glanced at her watch. "Damn, I have a meeting in five minutes. If you need anything, just push the call button." With that, the nurse stood and left the patient alone in the room.
Beth listened to the footsteps as they trailed off down the hallway. She then rose from her chair and limped back up to the bed. The mattress felt soft, warm, perfectly comfortable. Why would a monster be lurking inside it? Why would there be monsters lurking anywhere in this world? The ice was thick and safe.
"Just a dream," Beth assured herself, laying on her side, staring out the window at the grey sky. "All just a bad dream."
Beth's recovery went by quickly. The next day, she was up and walking with no pains in her hip, and on Friday, she was allowed to leave.
Beth pulled the door open and stepped out from the hospital lobby. Twilight and a few street lamps lit the crowded parking lot. She remembered using this exit before, but back then, three companions had followed her.
"We're … we're really back, aren't we?" Kyle grinned. "We're really back!"
As Beth walked across the parking lot, she glanced over her shoulder at the hospital entrance. Just like in her dream, the sign above the doors proclaimed: 'LAMBERT HOSPITAL – Proud to aid the people of Hooper Lake City since 1910.'
Quick, purposeful footsteps sank into the carpet of snow covering the sidewalk. Beth was heading for the city's only church.
By the time Beth had reached the cemetary, it was completely deserted. The dusk had slipped unnoticed into the darkness of a winter night, devoid of stars. Street lamps cast a faint, yellow shade over the rows of gravestones.
Beth walked across the yard and scanned the epitaphs. Spotting the right inscriptions, she kneeled before two particular headstones. Fresh-looking bouquets adorned both.
Louise Barkin (1991-2005)
Sharon Barkin (1996-2005)
The Good Lord Will Take Care Of You
Beth sat there and stared at the graves for minutes. She simply forgot the wind biting at her face, her fingers turning numb, the icy soil colouring her trouser legs black. Thoughts and feelings whirled through her mind like a blizzard, each snowflake slightly different from all the others.
Warm fur brushed against her leg, and she looked down at a familiar grey cat. The animal stared up at her with those bright green eyes, as if imploring to be given a warm, loving home.
Beth scanned the cemetary to make sure that no one was around to hear her. She then glared back at the cat. "Leave me alone," she hissed. "I don't want to see you again. Ever."
The animal stood motionless.
Beth raised her voice. "Go away! Go!"
The cat finally darted off. Within seconds, it had disappeared in the shadowy maze of gravestones.
The walk to Hooper Lakeshore Apartments took ten minutes. As Beth walked up to her block, she noticed her Honda in the parking lot. The grey vehicle did not even bear the slightest scratch.
The Reapers landed on the Honda's hood with a cacophonic screech of metal grinding against metal.
Beth entered the apartment building and walked up the narrow staircase.
Shelley paused, shivering. "I c-can't go up there," she declared.
In the third floor corridor, Beth produced the key from her wallet and unlocked door 102. Thick layers of dust and a few cobwebs had invaded the flat while its comatose owner lay in the hospital. The potted plants were starting to wither, brown spots appearing on the green leaves. Beth obviously had some cleaning up to do, but most of it could wait till morning.
Closing the door behind her, she walked across the flat and scanned the bookcase. 'The collected works of Sir William Shakespeare, Volume VI' was still there. Beth grabbed the book and walked out to the kitchen. The waste bin was almost full.
Before dropping the Shakespeare collection in the garbage, Beth opened it on The Tempest. Prospero spoke a soliloquy, and she read it through twice.
'These our actors,
As I foretold you, were all spirits, and
Are melted into air, into thin air:
And, like the baseless fabric of this vision,
The cloud-capp'd towers, the gorgeous palaces,
The solemn temples, the great globe itself,
Yea, all which it inherit, shall dissolve,
And like the insubstantial pageant faded,
Leave not a rack behind.'
Beth closed the book and watched it fall into the heap of garbage. She walked back through the flat and entered the dim, narrow bedroom, where she instantly collapsed on the bed.
Kyle, Philip, Dean, Sharon, Louise, Shelley … Beth wanted to forget them all, but the memories would never leave her alone.
As she curled up on the bed, she remembered every little element that had led to the events of her nightmare. A cult brainwashing orphans and murdering those who barred its path. A priest using drugs to maintain his own faith. Two innocent souls killed in a horrible car accident. Victimization. Anorexia. Schizophrenia. Murder.
A question suddenly dawned upon Beth, and she did not want to know the answer.
In many ways, wasn't the real world far worse than any of Silent Hill's horrors?
'We are such stuff as dreams are made on, and our little life is rounded with a sleep.'
When the tears trickled down onto the pillow, she was not even sure whether they were caused by relief, anger or despair. It didn't matter. Beth simply let her mind drift off into sleep.
Sweet, dreamless sleep.
A/N: The END.
This has been my longest story so far, and IMO the best one. I'm really satisfied with how it all turned out. But anyway, I'm not supposed to review my own stuff. (waits in suspense for the reviews)
And here's a list of the obligatory Geeky References in the fic …
Elizabeth Kalember (Beth): Named after the actresses Elizabeth Pena and Patricia Kalember, who played Jacob's girlfriend and his ex-wife in the classic horror film "Jacob's Ladder".
Kyle Coppola: The taxi driver in Jacob's Ladder was played by Sam Coppola. In fact, the dialogue between Louise and Kyle in chapter 17 was completely ripped out of JL …
Philip Blackmer: In the superbly chilling "Rosemary's Baby" film, Rosemary's cult-leading neighbour was played by Sidney Blackmer. Philip's first name is random, though.
Lambert Hospital: Named after the director of "Pet Sematary", Mary Lambert.
Hooper Lake City: Also named after a horror film director – Tobe Hooper (the original "Texas Chainsaw Massacre" and "Poltergeist").
Nymphs, Reapers, Caliban, Harpies and all the quotes from The Tempest: Shakespeare must be spinning in his grave.
To all my readers and reviewers: Thank you for tuning in each week. I couldn't have made it to the end without the encouragement of knowing that someone actually liked this bizarre tale of mine. I'm not sure exactly what I'll be writing next, so if you haven't grown completely weary of my scribblings, keep an eye on my account here and the one at Fictionpress.
Tune in some other time …
E.P.O.
