"I do it for Mom. Because when we are finally together, she will recognize my devotion for her and be happy."
For Her
:'Silent Hill' is owned by Konami":
The darkness of the forest seemed rather ominous, but that was something of an understatement. Bizarre, deformed entities roamed through those trees, and so the forest could be considered dangerous, as it was a dangerous place to be. The light from the lantern above them was nothing comforting, because the light was not able to stop the creatures from assaulting. It really only made her be reminded of her injuries, as she looked upon herself.
Ahead of her, he was inspecting the area. She felt safe, if only a little, due to the rusted chain dangling from her free hand. Before she knew it, he was walking back, his tired, heavy eyes darting from side to side.
"Are you all right?" he asked, his gaze falling over her. She nodded meekly, but looked up at him.
"What's wrong?" she inquired, her voice weak; her leg was aching again. He glanced back at where he had come from.
"I found some tracks in the dirt… the imprints were from what were probably shoes."
Her eyes widened in sudden fear, but that was the only sign she showed. "Do you… Do you think he's somewhere nearby?"
His haunting image appeared in her mind, his coat covered in splotches of crimson. He was the same man who had nearly murdered her that evening, and he was the same one she had seen Henry gun down, back at that strange subway, and then just stand up after a few moments.
She gasped slightly when Henry placed his hands on her shoulders; for a second she thought it was him.
"Don't worry, I won't let him come near you. I messed up before, but…" He shook his head, backing away. "Let's go."
She stayed close behind him after he brandished his axe once more while holding the unlit torch in the other. He said he would light it when they reached the ruins of Wish House, which they did pretty quickly. Henry shut the gate closed and continued towards the single torch in the corner of the wide, square-shaped place, however, before he lit the item, he turned back to stare at her for a minute, thinking.
"W-What is it?"
He sighed. "I… I want to retrieve the rest of those parts of that thing… alone."
She limped over to him, fearful. "No, Henry, please! I, I don't want to be alone in this place!" The man moved and lit the torch, its flame illuminating his handsome, yet stressed facial features. She looked into his face, and realized what she had just said.
"I… I guess it's alright… I'll slow you down anyway, and we have to get out of this place… Don't take too long, though, okay?" The brunet smiled reassuringly, although his smile was a tad forced.
"I won't be long," he replied, and with torch in hand, left through the nearest gate. And she was alone.
The young woman glanced around her, and suddenly felt extremely tired. She eyed the metal fence with affection and leaned against it, plopping down on the dirt and dead grass. The air whistled far away, and a shriek erupted from somewhere in the forest. Yet things were silent after a second, and she closed her eyes, drifting into a light sleep…
Wheels wobbled on burnt wood, and her eyes shot open. Her head rotated left to right, but she calmed down upon seeing the ash-covered mannequin fall from its chair, the head and right arm connected loosely to its burned body.
And he was there, sitting down, arms spread out over his knees, with his greasy blond streaks covering his face. She was about to stand, but decided against it; he seemingly had no idea she was there, and she would rather have kept it that away.
So, she slowly got up, hugging the fence with her back. Her eyes were stuck on him, never leaving, but because of this a cracking noise echoed throughout the area, and he lifted his head. She looked down and discovered she had stepped on a twig.
The man stood up. He turned to face her slowly, an aged, bent pipe held firmly in his left hand. She rushed for the exit Henry had left through, but he was fast as lightning, and blocked her way.
"Hen-," she began to yell, but he grasped her arm-gently, not roughly-, silencing her. His right index finger rose before his lips, and he made a quiet "Shh…" sound. There was nothing she could possibly do at the moment, frozen in fear as she was, but he let her go.
"I thought I would let you sleep. You seemed peaceful."
She was at a loss of words. His aim was her death, was it not? Walter Sullivan just smiled. Was that because he was glad?
"Don't you… Don't you want to kill me?" she questioned lightly, not wanting to provoke him in anyway.
"Yes," he answered, emotionlessly.
"Then-,"
"You want to know why I have not killed you yet, correct?"
"Well, um…" she glanced downward, "…yes…"
Walter cocked his head to the left slightly, bemused. "Aren't you… happy, I have not killed you…?"
The brunette woman did not expect that, and became even more at a loss of words, as the situation turned even more awkward than it was before. 'If only Henry was here…' she thought, before the gate farthest away slowly creaked open. There was a faint hope in her that it would be Henry, at least coming to check on her, but that hope disappeared instantly when a disgusting, bleeding canine staggered in, its bleak, green flesh hanging off of it.
She held back the urge to puke as it came towards her; its long, revolting tongue dragged by its side. She started to back away, but Walter stepped forward, looking at it with his usual, odd grin.
It stopped in front of him, its head rose to look at him; it was shaking somewhat, as if afraid. The brunette looked from him to the beast. She felt pity for the dog, if only for a split second; it was already wounded, and it did not seem intent on attacking them, which was strange.
The dog whined a little and continued on its way to her, but this was enough for Walter to drive his pipe through the creature's skull, pinning it to the ground and ending its existence instantly.
As a result, she looked away in disgust. Even after watching Henry deal with the other hideous abominations in this world, it was still a horrible sight to see these things slaughtered, even if they were attempting to harm them most of the time. She had thought Henry himself had had second thoughts, back near the turnstiles in that subway.
There had been a woman, but she was not human. Her skin was decomposing, and she floated above the ground, with her unbelievably long hair dragging beside her. Her male companion had, when first encountering the being, seemed a bit surprised when he saw it. After a moment, however, he raised the axe in his right hand and struck it down, with nothing but hard, clear determination on his face.
Afterwards, when they departed through the station, leaving the thing pinned to the floor with that mysterious sword, she had tried to question him about it, but he had only replied with, "That wasn't her… it… it just isn't right…"
Something similar had occurred earlier in the forest too, around that massive boulder, when another zombie of sorts attacked them, covered in flames. Henry had not hesitated as much that time and quickly forced it down.
The creature slumped to the ground and Walter jerked out the pipe, holding it up to glance at it. The woman turned back. "Why… Why did you that?" she demanded, her leg hurting once more. He remained silent, but let his arm fall.
"It was a threat to your safety, and if Henry is not here to protect you, I suppose I will, for the time being."
Once again, the reply was not expected. A few leaves were picked up by the wind, and the wheelchair toppled over; another inhuman cry sounded throughout the forest. Walter looked away from her, towards the lake. Lake Toluca.
"Henry will be coming soon," he said plainly, before starting to the east exit. The brunette, though, still somewhat stunned, called out to him, "Wait! Please, wait!"
The murderer stopped and looked at her from the corner of his eye, not speaking. She swallowed hard, gathering her courage. "Why are you doing all of this?" she asked shakily. "I just… I… Why?"
He chuckled. "I do it for Mom. Because when we are finally together, she will recognize my devotion for her and be happy."
Without another word, he left, the hinges of the gate squeaking in his wake while Henry ran through the opposite door, the three last doll parts held by his left arm, which was hugging his chest. He had left the torch behind, and a large medallion of some sort stuck out from the back of his pants.
"…Come on, let's get going," he said solemnly. She nodded and hurried over to him as he approached the remains of the orphanage.
She watched him attach the parts back to the mannequin, but blinked in surprise. It was back in its previous position, sitting down in the wheelchair. She, nor Walter, had put it back up, but she decided to ignore it. This place was a place of dreams and nightmares, and logic did not fit here.
And as she saw him glance at her before stepping away to allow the mannequin to roll back and let out a moan, she realized what was driving both him and Walter. The other was doing this for his mother, whether she be existent or not, and Henry was doing this for himself and for her.