Dark Nights, Black Days
by diddly day
Note to the reader: Well, it's about damn time I updated. I understand that a lot of you are probably back in school now. So, hopefully, this should cheer you all up. I actually had been drilling out this chapter, but then I went on a vacation, and I didn't get a chance to finish it.
The last chapter had very little Henry and Eileen interaction in it. So there is a lot more in this one. Dialog and such. They have a lot to talk about.
Is Eileen stressed? Is she going nuts? Is she just plain weird?
Read and find out!
WARNING: This chapter is freakin' long.
Chapter Five:
"You'll be scared soon."
That clown had to be a friend of crazy Robbie. How else would he have known about her incident before her?
The police had seemed slightly distressed when she had talked with them.
However, when they had first arrived, they hadn't taken her seriously. The cops just assumed that she was only another tourist with an overactive imagination. But once she had finally finished her story, the two men exchanged a look of uneasy dread. Apparently, calls like this weren't new to them, as odd as that sounded. Eileen had a very difficult time envisioning anyone else being tormented by a rabid bunny.
All they did was tell her that they would search the area for the child or any person packing a Robbie costume in their back pocket. But when they said it, it sounded crazy. Even so, the police still appeared to be disturbed by her report, and clearly wanted to help. They had told her it was probably some hooligan strutting around, looking for anyone to scare as a good joke. Eileen had responded if that was the case, it hadn't been very funny.
And that was it.
No driving down to the sation to make a statement. No sketch artist (though all he would have sketched was a six-foot-tall rabbit). Not even an announcement of cation to the customers leaving for home. Just a few questions by the police, a pat on the back, and a large apology from the owner of the park. For her nights troubles, she had received two free season passes for her next visit.
After she had calmed down, everything that had happened to her now seemed extremely silly. It probably was just some stupid kid in a Rabbit suit. He, in all likelihood, did it every night to one of the customers She had just been foolish enough to make a huge fuss about it and call the cops. All in all, Eileen had come to the conclusion that it wasn't a big deal. Everyone else appeared to feel the exact same way. That is, aside from Henry. . .
Throughout her entire interview, he had kept remarkably silent. He also stood a nice way off from her as the police questioned her on the nights events. His arms folded over his chest, eyes cast downward the whole time, Eileen wondered why he stood like a Greek statue. And when he took her hand and led her to the car, his gaze lazily pointed at the ground.She felt suddenly very sad that the night had ended like this.
But now they were in the car, traveling back to the inn, where they could put that memory behind them.
At first, she hadn't been paying attention to Henry. Her eyes scanned the wide road as they drove down Sanford Street for any sign of the young boy. But after a few minutes, she began to noticed how his quiet, calm demeanor was starting to slip away. He had been so cool and composed when she had first dashed into his arms after the terrible fright she had enured. Then, he became quiet and isolated during her talk with the cops.
Now, upon looking at him, he was staring straight ahead at the road. His eyes were hard, making them look unnaturally like small, green gems. She could see him constantly clenching and unclenching his jaw. The muscles bulging, then relaxing under his skin in the dark. And his knuckles were turning snowy white as they clutched the steering wheel.
Eileen shifted in her seat apprehensively. Gulping, she racked her brain trying to think of an answer as to why he looked so intense. It was look that did not suit him.
"Henry?" she asked shyly. "Are you. . .okay?"
It was rather dark, but she could see his mouth twitch faintly. His grip on the steering wheel faltered for a moment. She heard him exhale forcefully as he regained his firm hand on the wheel. Passing under a streetlight outside, the bland orange tint reflected off his skin briefly. He appeared lightly damp. Little beads of sweat clung to his brow, and one drop leeched its way down his temple while the car was once more engulfed by the night.
When he didn't reply, Eileen's anxiety grew hostile.
"Henry? What's wrong?"
His parted his lips thinly, and she saw that his white teeth were clamped firmly through the slit in his mouth. Henry's eyebrows furrowed, meeting together on his forehead. She could see him moving his shoulder blades as though he were forcing his arms to stay still. Eileen watched him scrunch his nose for a moment, grinding harder on his teeth. The thing about him that unsettled her the most, was that he was shaking.
"Henry?" she whispered, now terribly worried.
Eileen, by three years, was very used to his silence. However, this wasn't normal. Not even for him. Henry was a very quiet man, but he always could open up to her. Even if it was only a little bit. And his muteness was upsetting her more and more as they drove on. He was so hard to read, that it made it was difficult for her to know what he wanted, what he was thinking, or how he was feeling. At times, she could let herself feel enormously isolated if she didn't try to get inside his head. Because getting inside Henry's mind, was sometimes one of the most emotionally demanding things she could ever attempt.
She had no idea what was going on in his head at the moment. And she was afraid to even try to understand. His breaths were now heavy, and his mouth was quivering uncontrollably. Whatever was happening in his mind, it was growing. Eileen could virtually see something rising within him. A sudden dread filled her, and she did not want to return to her motel room. When they did, she knew Henry would sit her down, go into the bathroom, and splash some cold water on his face, and return to bed without a word as he always did when he was upset. Making her feel all alone.
"It's okay, Henry. Just tell me what's – "
WHAM!
"Dammit, Eileen!" Henry grunted through his gritted teeth.
Eileen bolted in her seat as she stared at Henry in shock. The steering wheel was still jittering loudly as he had just slammed his fist unexpectedly into it. Her voice caught in her throat. Henry had just struck something. In all the years she had known her husband, she had never seen any violent tendencies in him whatsoever. She had always thought of him as a man who, when angry, would go pant a picture, or listen to some soothing music to calm himself down. But she had just witnessed him, firsthand, pounding on the wheel wildly.
It scared her.
"You can't do that," he whispered furiously. "You can't do that. . .ever. . .again."
His outburst confused her. What? She couldn't do what?
"What are you talking about?"
Henry slammed on the breaks. Her entire body lurched forward. The seatbelt was the only thing that kept her head from smacking the dashboard. Jerking the wheel, he pulled onto the side of the road. The tire riding along the curb, and finally stopping outside the empty building of Pete's Bowl-o-Rama. Another burst of fright exploded in the pit of her chest.
Her husband had lost his mind.
"You can't just run off like that!" he snapped. Eileen's insides froze. Henry's voice was taking on a tone she never thought he could possess, and it was raising at every word. "I don't want you chasing after some phantom kid! I don't want you leaving me like that! You're going to get hurt! YOU'RE GOING TO GET YOURSELF KILLED!"
He was screaming. And he was screaming at her. Her chest felt like she could produce ice-sickles, but her heart was ramming hotly against her ribcage. A terrible sensation spread about her body. It was as though Henry were digging his hands in her, and ripping apart her soul. She could feel her eyes slowly filling with tears.
It was the first time he had ever shouted at her. The first time he had ever erupted in nothing but pure, white-hot rage. And Eileen wasn't just startled, shaken, confused, or horrified. She was devastated.
Eileen didn't even think to respond angrily. It didn't occur to her to open her mouth and lash her tongue back at Henry for his over-the-top response. Whenever she even got the slightest hint that Henry was mad at her, she, in turn, would become just has pissed. What right did he have to be mad at her? But now, it was different. Now, it was serious.
"Henry, I. . ." But she couldn't finish. Her voice seemed to die right as the tears threatened to leak from her eyes.
"What?" he snarled. "This is the second time in less than two days that you've followed some stupid kid off alone, in a town that we don't know that well. What the hell were you thinking?"
"I– I– I don't know."
"Did Robbie hit you, and knock some sense out of your head?"
That hurt. An awful speculation struck her. He didn't believe her.
"I'm not crazy." Her voice was so strained as she tried to speak with the lump in her throat. After all, he had told her he didn't want her chasing after any phantom kids. But was that true? Was she delusional? "You think I'm crazy, don't you?"
"Of course I don't!" he barked. "But that was so reckless of you! I leave you alone for less than five minutes, and you go off, trailing a strange child.
"And to make matters worse, some lunatic decides to make you his next victim! I don't care what the police say, that guy was going to kill you. And you waltzed right into an area where he could get away with it. No one would have heard you. No one would have seen you. You know damn well that not a single person in their right mind drives through Paleville at night. All he had to do was drag you over that hill and. . . and. . . " He stopped.
Eileen couldn't help it. Two large tears trickled down her cheeks. It marked the seriousness of the matter that she wasn't fighting back. Usually, Eileen quarreled with him if she felt scandalized. But he was so mad at her. She didn't know what to say. Even so, deep down, she knew she had done something stupid. All she wanted to do was make it right again.
"I'm sorry," she whispered, eager to apologize and explain herself. "But, Henry, I'm fine. Nothing bad happened. I was just trying to help that boy. I got away, didn't I?"
"And if you didn't?" nipped Henry. She didn't say anything. He did not wait long for her to respond to him. "You don't get it, do you?"
Eileen shrugged her trembling shoulders. "What's not to get? I did get away," she choked, fearing he'd hear her voice break.
"A dozen different outcomes could've happened tonight," Henry lowered his voice dangerously. "All of which depended on whether or not you fell down when that psycho was running after you. Or if you didn't kick him in the right spot before you got away. What would've happened if you hadn't heard him approach you from behind in time?"
She didn't reply. To be honest, she hadn't thought about that. Eileen knew what would've happened if any of those scenario had occurred. The answer was simple: she would have died.
"Henry," she began, desperate to make him understand, "I was only doing it because I thought that boy needed help. He looked lost, and he was without any parents! I was only thinking about him!"
"And what about me?"
"You?"
Henry shook his head in frustration. For a moment, Eileen was afraid he was going to strike the wheel again.
"Did you think about me?" cried Henry. He gripped the door tightly with his hand and looked away irefully.
"Well, I was only going to –"
"Imagine me pulling up the car to look for you," he interrupted. "Imagine me not being able to find you, and I go to look for you."
She did. A vision of Henry driving by the park drifted inside her mind. His dark green eyes darting through the crowds searching for her. Then, she saw him getting out of the car, and walking up and down the sidewalks, craning his neck to find her among the customers. Eileen could see the expression of worry on his face as he stopped pedestrians on the street asking them if they had seen his wife.
"Now picture me venturing out to the street. I walk along until I see something lumpy up ahead." There was something in his voice that she had never heard before. It was tinged. Husky and higher than usual. "I get closer to it. It's still there, and it comes into view. Closer and closer, I'm now a few feet away, and I can see an arm. I break into a run as I stumble over your bloody corpse."
The image in her mind made her shiver as she pictured Henry staring down at her dead body. His eyes wide with terror. The stinging in her eyes intensified.
Suddenly, she felt her face burn in anger. I wasn't like she knew she was about to get attacked by a man in a rabbit costume.
"Henry," Eileen hushed, "I can't see into the future. How was I to know that there would be some crazy nut following me? I also can't stay by your side all of the time. I can't do it. I won't do it."
"I don't expect you to. I don't want you to feel like you need my permission to do anything. But I do expect you to tell me where you are, or where you're going." He sounded so strange. His words seemed as if they were squeezing themselves out of his throat. "And I also figure that you'd be more careful. Because you're right. You can't see into the future. You never know when you're about to die."
Those words had a massive impact on her. Closing her eyes, she strained to keep her hands in her lap, as to not cover her eyes.
"Everything's okay, isn't it? I mean, I'm okay! Nothing bad happened!" stressed Eileen.
"But what if it HAD?"
She couldn't stop herself from jolting in her seat as he yelled at her again. Just why was she getting so upset? Was it because she was embarrassed for not considering Henry? Or was it because she was ashamed of her act of stupidity by going after that kid? She did not want to admit that her overwhelming sadness was caused by that fact that she was fighting with her husband. It did not set well with her that the reason she was having to restrain herself from bursting into tears was because Henry was yelling. That for the first time, throughout their entire marriage, he was genuinely furious with her.
A ghastly thought occurred to her. She had never seen this side of him before. Neither did she know Henry even had this side of him to reveal. He had concealed it from her all these years. Yes, she had always known that he could get angry. But Henry was not the type of man to erupt in rage like this. At least, she thought, until tonight. And that desperate realization was now engulfing her mind. He had hid something from her. All this time, he had hidden those emotions, those feelings. Now they were leaking out, all the while becoming stronger and stronger from the many years of suppression.
Just what else had he been hiding from her?
"What if it had, Eileen?" Henry throttled. "You didn't think about what could have happened. What if I had stumbled upon your body? What if you disappeared, and the cops found you floating in the lake weeks later?" His voice was hoarse with fear.
"I– "
"How do you think I would have felt not knowing where you were? Only able to imagine what some psycho was doing to you?" The words that fell from his lips were becoming tighter and tighter. She could hear them shake as they escaped his mouth.
"Henry, it's not like– "
"Can you even fathom how scared I was when I heard what you were telling the police? Did you know about all of the hideous scenarios that were flashing before my eyes as I listened to your story? Do you have any idea what I would do if I lost you? No. You didn't think about that, did you?"
The car was abruptly filled with silence. Eileen bit her bottom lip. The guilt she was now experiencing stung her heart, making it burn inside her chest. This was, by far, one of the most emotionally draining nights of her life. How could such a sweet day turn so sour?
Henry appeared to be done with his rant. Eileen gazed at him through the fine layer of tears that clouded her vision. He was back to clutching the wheel solidly. His breathing was shallow and he was tightly closing his eyelids. She could see him clamping his teeth down once more. It was hard to tell in the blackness of the car, but she could barely see his skin turning a gentle red. His entire body shivered lightly, and Eileen suddenly fought back a groan of sheer horror as she now understood his weakened appearance.
He was trying not to cry.
Along with never hearing him shout, Eileen had also never seen him cry. She had often suspected that he always carried a heavy, fierce burden. Even when he was happy, she could tell that the things that weighed on his mind were a constant, tiring pain that never went away. So many times she had wished that she could help carry his load for him, but every time she got close, he shut her out, and proceeded to walk alone with his dark affliction. But now, under the stress of tonight, he was breaking. The burden was now too heavy, and she didn't think Henry could heave it another step.
Just set it down, Henry. Let me in.
And out of nowhere, it hit her. He wasn't mad at her. The reason behind his outburst hadn't been indignation. Henry wasn't roaring at her because he was furious. Their fight wasn't caused by his irritation, or shock of her near death experience.
The root of his outburst had been fear.
He was scared. Henry had known just how close she had come to dying. And for some reason, it shook him more than it could ever dismay her.
Eileen gulped. "I didn't think. . . I mean, I never knew – "
"What? That I loved you that much?"
Henry didn't even look at her as he said it. The words had justleft him and floated in the car around them. That had not been what she was going to say. She never knew Henry worried so tremendously about her. Eileen had no idea that Henry even thought about what would happen if she died.
The headlights of a passing car blinded them momentarily. Light befell over Henry's face. He didn't look mad anymore. His mouth was turned down, and his eyes drooped lazily. Everything about him had changed. He was back to being her exhausted, soft-spoken, gentle husband. Her loving husband.
Eileen had a sudden impulse to hide her face from him. She couldn't look at him anymore. No, she didn't want him to see her anymore. Turning just in time for a few more stray tears to drip from her lashes, she pushed her fist under her nose.
This was so weak. Crying was for the weak. After her attack, she vowed to try to never shed tears again. And so far, she was failing miserably.
Why am I so emotional? Am I stressed? Am I going insane? Am I pregnant?
At the last thought, more tears splashed down her face. She tried so hard to not let a whimper escape her lips. Sitting there, weeping silently, Eileen tried not to think about the difficulties of motherhood. Blasting out any thought in her mind that dealt with her wearing a straightjacket, she fought back another sob. She pushed out every idea, every scenario that could have happened tonight because of her recklessness and stupidity. And she tried not to think about Henry's unprotected expression.She just tried not to think. . .at all.
Embarrassment and shame caused her to moan softly. She sure was feeling those two emotions lately. Every time she opened her eyes, she felt hopeless, weak, and pitiful. And that made her ashamed and embarrassed.
Shame. . .Embarrassment. . .Same difference.
Her shoulders were shaking. All these thoughts made her head feel exceptionally small. She could not handle one more. But the most important subject of all, was still hanging around she and Henry's heads.
Covering her eyes with her hands, she prayed that Henry would start the car so she could get back to the inn. Eileen wanted. . .needed sleep. She put her now damp hands in her lap and stared out of the dark window. All Henry had to do was just start the damn car. She jerked slightly when she felt Henry's warm fingers brush her temple and sweep the hair away from her watery eyes.
"Eileen," he whispered. His hand stroked the soft strands of her hair which had grown longer since their first meeting. "I do love you. . .that much."
She couldn't stop herself from hiccuping. It was not like her to become so upset by a stupid marital spat. His fingers moved down her shoulders, playing with the ends of her dark hair.
"I was just so scared," Henry continued, "I kept thinking about what could have happened to you. This has happened before, when – "
Eileen turned her face to look at him. She didn't realize how quietly he had unbuckled his seatbelt, and moved toward her, his chest almost touching her shoulder.
"When," he tried again. Eileen wet her lips.
"When I was assaulted," she finished gently. Henry closed his mouth and nodded. His hand was now under her hair, traveling his fingers over the back of her neck.
And for the first time, Henry revealed something about her accident that she never knew.
"I couldn't save you."
Her lips trembled, and her eyes searched his face. What?
"I couldn't get the door open in time." She could feel his hot breath on her cheeks. All the while, his head dipping closer and closer. "I was terrified. I could hear you. And I could do nothing."
Now he was massaging her neck and shoulders. He had been there? He had heard her getting attacked?
"I tried." Eileen almost felt his lips brush her face. "But I was too late. I failed you then. I can't again."
She never knew who it was who had gotten her to the hospital. The police told her that they had a gotten a call. All the person had said was "303, South Ashfield Heights. Hurry." The operator said that the caller had sounded like a little boy. Now, Eileen knew who it was.
It was him. . . her husband.
Her lips parted.
"I'm sorry," hushed Henry. His nose faintly touched her face. The tip of it nestling over the wet streaks her tears had created.
All she said was: "Henry."
And then he was kissing her. His warm lips twisting over hers. She had a flashback of the night before, and how she and Henry had changed places.
"It wasn't your fault," she soughed after the kiss was over.
He didn't respond at first. Eileen only felt his chest rising and falling with hers. It was amazing to her how Henry's fire and rage had diminished so quickly. A small buzzing noise surrounded them as they sat silence. Henry rested his chin on her shoulder.
"You okay?" he asked after some time.
Eileen could only reply by sliding her arms around him. He hadn't been mad at her. Or irritated. He had felt scared and guilty. He blamed himself. . .for so much. She hugged him for a few moments. It was the least she could do for scaring him so badly.
"Forgive me for frightening you," she spoke in the coldness of their car. "I don't know wh – "
"Hey," Henry rose his chin from her shoulder, and placed his lips on her throat, "Let's get out of here."
"Okay." Her voice was barely audible. "But let's go to the drug store first."
Henry, finally, started the car.
I I I
They were negative. All three of them.
Eileen rested the back of her head on the bathroom door. She didn't know if she should be sad or relieved. Throwing the last pregnancy test into the trash, she grabbed a few sheets of toilet paper and covered up the evidence. Before ripping the recite to shreds and flushing it down the toilet, Eileen had been careful to get rid of the packages first, after reading the instructions.
Henry hadn't asked questions when she came out of the drug store. Back at their motel room, she had pulled Nighttime, Aspirin, and a package of antihistamines out of the shopping bag, making a careful effort to conceal her pregnancy test. It seemed that Henry hadn't picked up on what she was doing.
She really couldn't explain why she didn't want to tell Henry that she suspected that she had been pregnant. Did she want it to be a surprise? Did she think that he would freak out? Or was it that she didn't want to give his hopes up before she knew the results? She didn't know. And anyway, it didn't matter.
She wasn't carrying a child. And that was that. Her birth control pills had worked after all.
A soft tapping came from behind the door.
"Eileen?" Henry inquired tenderly. "Is everything okay?"
It took a nice long time for those tests to work, and she kept having to refill her glass of water so she could take it. Otherwise. . .
"Yeah," she responded weakly, "I just don't feel good."
That wasn't a lie. After tonight, she felt awful. Standing up, she made sure everything was hidden. Splashing some cool water on her face, she ran her damp fingers through her messy hair and wiped her, now, swollen eyes.
Feeling more composed and a little bit better, she opened the bathroom door. Henry was going to want make-up sex now, and she didn't have enough strength to argue.
Instead, she saw him standing by the small table in their room. He was pouring something green into atiny cup. Beckoning for her to come closer, he held the cup out to her, his other hand underneath it to keep it from spilling on the carpet.
"Here," he said handing her the Nighttime medicine she had purchased. "You could use this."
He was being sweetly apologetic. She knew that much, and she took the cup graciously. Her nose was still stuffy from crying earlier.
"Thank you," she smiled at him.
Putting the medicine to her lips, she downed it in one gulp. Tasting the bitter liquid, she cringed. It was the only thing that actually tasted like its color. She shuddered as she finished. A warm sensation filling her stomach, and traveling through her body. It wasn't much longer before she felt slightly hot, and brushed a few beads of sweat off her forehead.
Setting the cup on the table without rinsing it, she began to head for the bed, when Henry wrapped his arms around her. Placing a kiss on her temple, he whispered shyly into her ear.
"I'm not angry at you. I never was."
Eileen stared over his shoulder at their bed. It looked so inviting, and she was so tired. But she knew what Henry wanted.
"I know."
"I only care about you." He kissed her softly.
"I know."
He was going to kiss her neck now, and slip her nightgown off as he coaxed her into bed. However, she was surprised and thankful that he did neither. He did, anyway, lead her to their bed. Pulling back the covers, he sat her down. Her silk gown felt good against the cold sheets that cooled her heated body, and she relaxed into them. He stretched the covers over her.
"Rest," was all he said.
The last thing she remembered was him kissing her eyelids before drifting off to sleep.
I I I
She was so scared, she was shaking. Every bone in her body screamed in agony as she hobbled down the rocky trail. She knew she couldn't keep running away from Him. Sooner or later, He was going to sneak up behind her, and. . .
Her body convulsed noticeably.
"What's wrong?" he asked.
"My leg hurts."
Her heels were sinking into the moist ground. She would've given anything for a pair of sneakers right now. The stabbing pain that was shooting up and down her shins almost made her ankle want to give way. Now, the bandages around leg was damp and sagged as it was full of her blood. It was loose, and leached its way down her leg, making her wound open and vulnerable to the elements.
"Can you walk?" He stepped closer to her. She waved at him with her good hand.
"Yeah, it's no big deal. It's just, my heels are slowing me down, and making my leg ache. I'm sorry."
The fog was clinging to her skin as the faint glow of the light illuminated the dark, hazy forest. The scent of burnt wood and fresh air was nice for a change. Rather than the stench of blood, decaying flesh, and rust. Charred remains of some wooden cabin reminded her of the times she had gone camping with her father in. . .
"Could this be. . . Silent Hill Woods?"
"I'm sure it is, Eileen." He was now gazing at her bandaged leg. "That doesn't look good," he observed.
"It hurts like a bitch," Eileen seethed.
"Come here."
He began to direct her to the burnt pile of wood. Carefully, he sat her down on, what looked like, steps. The firelight from his torch warmed her as he moved it, and wedged it into one of the ball pens that sat next to the once old cabin. A sign that had been reduce to nothing but almost charcoal barely read: WISH HOUSE.
"Henry," she started, "do you know where we are?"
Henry pulled his eyes from her ankle to meet hers.
"This is an old orphanage, that's all I know." He paused. "Can I tend to your injury now?" He didn't sound annoyed. But she could tell that he was pressed for time, and wanted to get the hell out of here.
"Sure, beats me reading those dumb journal entries." She could feel his hand grasp her calve. His other hand unwrapping the dressing on her leg.
"What language is that in, anyway?" His voice sounded timid, like he was forcing himself to make small talk with her.
She took a short inhale of pain as he slightly turned her ankle. Bitting her bottom lip, she strained to answer his question.
"It looks like Aramaic," replied Eileen. Henry stopped again and gazed at her in wonderment. He had given her that look a few times as she translated those mysterious words before.
Actually, it looked a lot like something of the Native American language. However, there had been traces of Aramaic in those words. Which was the only reason she was hardly able to render it.
"You sure know a lot," he muttered with a small voice. His eyes avoiding hers as he said the words. Eileen blushed softly.
"I studied archeology in college," she returned as modestly as she could.
The heat of her face turned hotter. She was unexpectedly very aware that he was touching her. Pressing her knees together more firmly, she wished that she had worn a longer dress and vowed that if they made it through their nightmare, she would burn this outfit to cinders.
"Aramaic," Henry repeated. "That sounds familiar." He was putting something on her bloody gash.
"It's uh, it's the language that Christ spoke – Ah!" Her teeth clamped down at the stinging uproar that cleansed her wound.
"Sorry." Eileen was sure that there was a flicker of a smile on Henry's lips. He pulled a small candle out of his pocket, lit it, and sat it next to her. "I think you twisted it when you were running. If I could find some shoes for you, I would. But until then, you're going to have to stick with the heels. That gash looks pretty deep, and your kneecaps are all banged up and bruised."
"I'll be fine," she tried to reassure him. Eileen didn't like the fact that she was slowing him down. And yet, she didn't want to be left alone. He was her only chance.
Henry was now re-bandaging her wound with some clean tape he had carried with him. She could feel his fingers sliding up her skin and he squeezed her kneecap to keep her leg steady. Eileen bit her lip again, but this time, it wasn't out of pain. She had just seen him wack a thousand demons to hell. And yet with her, he was so tender.
A chill swept over her body and she shivered. Henry was grasping her ankle softly again.
"Does that hurt?" He looked up at her once more. She could see the blaze from his nearby torch reflect in his eyes.
Eileen shook her head. His green eyes glowing like a cat's, he stared deeply at her. She was faintly aware of her heart thudding violently . An abrupt desire to push back the matted, greasy locks of hair out of his eyes fired into her fingertips. Forcing her hand to stay put, she glanced away from him, now very aware that she looked like a roughed up hooker.
She hadn't realized that he was done until he stood up and dusted off his faded jeans. Eileen was already trying to maneuver getting up with one hand when he grabbed her pale arms, and pulled her gently to her feet. Stumbling at first, she feared that she would fall. However, his hands moved to her waist, and her stomach was unexpectedly pressed over his.
She almost let out a gasp.
Henry's grip on her soothed her battered skin. He was her protector. As long as he was with her, she was safe. Her face was so close to the curve of his neck, she could smell blood and sweat on him. But there was something else. Something strong. . .Something masculine.
His hands shifted to her back. She thought she felt them tremble slightly. He then grabbed her hips, and pushed her back away, steadying her as he bent down to pick up his bloody axe. All of the pain in her body seemed to intensify, and she remembered why she had felt so crappy earlier. Looking down at her feet, she saw the candle melting slowly on the ground. Just watching it made her feel better.
"Is that better?" Henry questioned, making her snap her gaze away from the flickering candle.
"Yeah." She bent her knee, the new bandaged seemed more secure. "Much better."
Almost. . .not entirely. . . but almost, did she see his white teeth and he barely grinned at her. Could it be? Could it be that for the first time in her adult life she had actually met a genuinely nice guy? She couldn't help herself from smiling back.
The creaking of a rusted gate sounded behind them. Followed by a deep, ghostly laugh.
Henry had already dropped his axe, and was pulling his pistol out from the back of his belt. But he wasn't fast enough.
POP!
Blood exploded from Henry's chest as the bullet ripped through his skin like tissue paper. His body stood still for a moment, and he turned around, his gun still raised, to shoot that strange man. To shoot Him.
POP!
Eileen never saw the another bullet burst from Henry's back. She felt his hot blood splatter on her face. Screaming, she squinted to see if he was all right. The entrance from the earlier bullet looking so small compared the exit wound that were both on his back.
POP! POP! POP!
More dark crimson spirted from his shoulders and back.
"Henry!" she cried.
His body went livid under the splotches on his skin. The greasy pistol slid out of his fingers and landed on the ground with a soft thud.
"Henry, no!" She grabbed his back just as he fell into her arms. She wasn't strong enough to support him, and they both went down.
"Eileen," he grunted.
"Henry! Henry!" She knelt over him and touched his face. "Don't go! Don't leave me alone."
His sticky fingers reached out and his hand stroked her face. She looked into his eyes, that were now growing dimmer and dimmer.
"Eileen," Henry gurgled as blood gushed out of his mouth.
Eileen stared at him, tears clouding her vision. Memories flashed behind her eyes. Henry was smiling as he paid for their food at a restaurant. . . He was kissing her. . . They were both hunting for a new apartment together. . . She held his hand as they walked along the stormy docks. . . She was wearing a clean white dress, and a golden ring on her finger. . . He was making love to her in a dark room.
They were married. But how? She had just met him! How could she have all of these memories?
"Henry." She shook him. "Get up!"
Her trembling chin made it hard to form the words elegantly. His lips had stopped moving. And his breathing had slowed almost to a complete stop. He was her husband, and he was dying. Grabbing his chest, she tried to apply pressure to the wounds on his flesh. But it did no good.
His hand fell from her face. Staring down at him, she could see that those jade eyes were now nothing but gray.
He was dead.
Before she could even cry for him, she heard a click. Looking up, she saw a gun close to her face. He was smiling. His sick eyes laughing at her. The long coat flooding over his dirty pants. She could see Him clearer than ever.
"Time to go," He uttered. "Mom."
About this time, Eileen awoke the entire motel with her shrieks.
To be continued. . .
Note to the reviewer: Kind of a long chapter. I know. And I will, again, be very impressed if anyone actually read the entire thing. I know I have the tendency to ramble a lot. But. . . oh well! Ah, what the hell! Just me putting down my thoughts on paper.
The whole Eileen remembering her marriage to Henry is kind of like when you're having a dream, and it changes. You remember certain things that really don't make any sense to your dream. Have you ever had that?
Why do so many people like Walter? He's a killer! I can see why people feel sorry for him, but I would figure that the pity would diminish after he slaughtered a bunch of people.
Thank to all the people who reviewed.
MicaUK:I'm very happy you enjoyed it! I'm not really afraid of clowns, but I don't like them either. And rabbits, those aren't scary. . .kinda. They poo a lot, but that's about it. Thank you so much for liking this story. And finding it scary for that matter. Horror is very hard to do, because it's hard trying to make people laugh. Thanks again!
Evil: You just said something about that I should have a good reason that I brought Walter back, and I just meant it that maybe he's not back. Maybe Eileen is just going crazy. You know, I am very glad that you keep on reviewing my stories. To tell you the truth, I am kinda surprised. Way back in the day, I got kind of a critical review from you, and I got a little sour (Just for the one review, I'm a little too sensitive). Since then, I've had waaay worse reviews. And I'm so touched that you still read and review my stories. It means a lot to me since you always seem to say the right thing. Thank you. And I don't write sex scenes because I'm a religious person, and I just don't feel right about it. Not that I don't want to right one, hehe, I could write a steamy one too. But sadly, I'm can't. And I won't. Thanks for the review!
ShGr: Hey! Thanks for the review! You just said the sweetest thing about me, I actually go back and reread those when I feel like I'm just an awful writer. Do you have any idea how long I waited for a good Henry/Eileen fic? Like, for freaking ever! Finally, I had to sit down and write one myself. It may take a while, but dammit! I'll do it. They are really cute together. I can't figure out why so many people liked him with Cynthia or Walter. Eileen is just cool. A little too much fluff in this chapter, for that I apologize. But I hope you liked it. You are just. . .awesome!
DaLilMoomba: Nah, you weren't random. I loved your last review. And your current one as well. Don't sweat it. Who doesn't love Robbie? I would love to have a stuffed animal like that. I'd just make sure there were no knives lying around. I'm glad you liked the story. Clowns can be creepy. Like the one on "IT" I was little when it premiered, but it scared the crap out of me. And the little boy. . .hmmm. I can't say much about him. I guess we'll just have to wait and see. Thanks!
slpytlak: Thank you. Thank you very much!
Skittlefratz: Well, I'm glad you played the game! Isn't it just an awesome game? Henry and Eileen make a great couple. At least, in my opinion. You know, now that I'm older, it takes a lot to scare me. So I understand completely. The more exposed you are to things like that, that more desensitized you become to it. Like, I read "Salems Lot" which is supposed to be the scariest book ever written, and it didn't scare me. However, Silent Hill 2 when I first played it freaked me out. This chapter is a little bit more romantic, but I hoped you liked it nonetheless. Thank you so much!
Gaia Faye: Okay, first off I just have to say how much I loved your last story. I think I've read it like three times. You said so much that I also was working up to saying in my story. It was weird, when you said something about Henry acting goofy as an apology to Eileen, I was planning on saying that almost exact same thing! ( I can always tell when my sister is trying to say she is sorry about acting different after fight.) I was very impressed. Which isn't easy to do. I really don't read that many Silent Hill stories. And I only review the ones I really like. Yeah, I know my spelling sucks. But they're typos, and they suck. Even when I proof read, I miss them sometimes. Sorry about that. I never really watched "IT" all the way through, and I got halfway through the book before I lost interest. "We all float down here" is one of the scariest scenes in that book. Thanks for the review.
PJ: That is a great compliment to me. It's really hard to keep the characters in character. Because you want to write your own story, but you have to make it seem true to the game/movie/or book you are basing it off of. If I scared you a little with my last chapter, then I did my job! One of the best things you can call a fic is cool. Thank you so much! And also thanks for reviewing my other fic.
Rodarian: Like I said before, your opinion really makes my day. Whether it be criticism or praise, it's worth it to have you read it. Actually, I just got the rabbit idea by brainstorming. It wasn't until I went back and read your review that I thought "Weird." The whole clown thing I feel is a little cliche (this story is full of cliches) but I really thought the Rabbit thing countered it. I'm glad that you appreciated that fact that the last chapter really focused on Eileen, rather than Henry. This chapter was important due to the interaction between them. But I know how many romantics are out there who want to see some "action" so to speak. I'm also happy that you liked the therapy session. I'll admit, it was a last minute add on, but a woman who has been through what Eileen has been through would have to see a therapist. To be honest, I hadn't thought about Heavens Night, but you have sparked an idea in me. Maybe I will have to make a quick stop there in my next chapter. Sorry, it's long. I get a little winded, lol. But what I am trying to say is thank you.
X: Thank you. Whenever I see an "X" it reminds me of my old favorite show "The X-Files."
Dark Lord: Is your name a Harry Potter reference? Sorry, I'm a nerd, but I had to know. Why are the people nuts if they reviewed my stories? I thought they were all really nice. Ah, I'm guessing you're talking about "In Secret"? Actually, I hadn't even thought about it until you mentioned it. While it is similar in the fact that the two main female characters have "forgotten" so to speak, but they overall plot, and they way most of the characters are handling the amnesia are very different. Eileen really hasn't forgotten, but repressed her incident. And while Squall will try to help Quistis remember, Henry will try to keep Eileen's memory repressed. Does that make sense? It's really complicated, but that's the best I can do. Thank you for reading my story!
Kronos106: LOL! What clown has the gall to creep people out without being paid? Well, I'm impressed that you actually read the whole thing. I appreciate it immensely. It's hard to keep people attention while rambling about thoughts and such. But the fact that I can keep your attention without putting you to sleep is a great compliment to me. Creepiness is hard to write. I want the reader to be scared and not to burst out laughing. And I'm glad that you did do that. . .You didn't right? Thanks for the awesome review!
Saddened Soul: Takes a bow You are just so damn good, and that means a lot that you liked this story. I seriously would have reviewed every chapter of your awesome story, but I was gone and out of town. That doesn't mean that you have not been doing a great job. You're really hard on yourself. You should be proud that you are brave enough to put your writing out there. It's really scary. Especially when there are so many punks on the internet who like to put others down. Trust me, I know what I'm talking about. I loved Robbie because he disarmed Eileen. She thinks he's all cute and cuddly, but he's a nightmare. Oooo, I just got chills! The child might be real. But Eileen really might be losing her mind. I love to tease my readers. I guess we'll have to wait and see. Thank again for such a cool, rockin', and sweet review. YOU ROCK!
SageoWind218: You were waiting for a new chapter? Really? That makes me blush and giddy at the same time. I can't believe you said so many nice things about me. It's just. . .awesome! That fact that you think I'm a good author, makes me want to go out and write a book of my own. The best thing a writer can be told, is that they are creative. That just made my day when you said that. And don't worry, I'm not giving up on any of my stories. Thank you a million times over!
Yeah, it's long. I had to make up for my last chapter thank you. But hey, you guys deserve it.