You know, I can understand the 'reply response' thing, but I do like to reply in the story chapters. Ah, well.
Thanks to everyone who reviewed! I hope you all had a very Happy Thanksgiving!
Ah, the lovely warnings… I think we've made it clear what they are; gore, slight language and… a character death. I think. I know there will be one, but in this chapter, I don't know.
Henry, Eileen, Walter, and that other stuff from SILENT HILL :woooo: are owned by Konami. Haley Oren and Brad Caulns belong to me. "The Hardest Part" is owned by Coldplay.
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The Hardest Part
Chapter Six: Waiting for that Bell to Ring
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"…Haley…" came the name, as if it was an exasperated plea for something vital and yet it was not received… and probably never would be…
It hurt… it burned immensely as if there was a fire just under his skin and he could do nothing to quell it. Breathing heavily, he slumped over, his bangs shading over his pain-filled eyes as the flaming skin met with the chilled tile below him. Henry groaned and then sluggishly laid down on his back to alleviate the fiery sensations coursing through his exhausted body.
Glancing around at his surroundings, he sighed stoically as the flame died down at the icy feel of the kitchen tile and Henry felt the numbness that followed ebb away also. Something had happened… something horrible had just occurred and somehow, the brunet knew Haley was going through something similar. The coarse, intermingling whispers that he heard just recently still rung hauntingly in his head and he shuddered from the mentioning of the 'AntiSacrament.' Turning his head over to the other side to stare at the island in his kitchen, Henry began to think of the terrible reasoning behind of the anguishing experience.
… Walter… he was still around and powerful enough to harm anyone he saw fit, grinning that awful smile as he toyed with the lives of innocents like he had before. Regardless of his past efforts, Walter's evil still reigned its ugly head high and Henry felt that this time… he wouldn't be able to stop him… at all. He was weakened… blood still dripped from his mouth and scarlet tears fell from his emerald eyes as his hands trembled coldly. Knowing that he was in no condition to fight depressed him even though the determination to keep the man in the coat from harming anyone else still burned strong. The photographer wondered if Walter would go after Eileen even though he had been thwarted by them both before… he hoped to every deity that he wouldn't dare think about her… the brunet felt that he wouldn't have been able to take the pain of losing Eileen if he also lost Haley…
… After all, Walter wanted Haley for some no-good reason… the poor Southern girl probably knew somewhat of what the blond psycho wanted with her and was helpless- as hard as it was to soak that into his mind- to fight back.
The ticking of the wall clock in on the living room wall echoed frighteningly and shivers pricked at his skin still as the tenant of Room 302 attempted to finally stand up now that some strength had returned. Pulling himself to a sitting position, Henry laid his head on his hand as he conceived that whatever happened could and probably would occur again. Grasping the countertop, the brunet heaved himself to stand on his feet after the dizziness quelled away, breathing labored and cold sweat dripping down the nape of his neck. Leaning against the pale, white counter, he held his heavy head as he managed to think about all the different things that had brought him to this moment.
"AntiSacrament… Why her?" Henry yelled angrily as he slammed his fists into the wood, gritting his teeth, "What did she do to deserve to be called this damned 'AntiSacrament!'" Waiting for his anger to dissipate, his ears strained for an answer from the silent walls and items of the Room. He supposed that the hauntings would appear all over again, like before when Walter was after him, and tell him some ludicrous stupid reason why she was now the core of all the problems taking place. Expecting that red blood would spill from the white walls as a corrupted victim tried to pull itself through or a soft 'meow' would be heard from the refrigerator behind him, Henry waited for some sign of illogical reference.
None of such came.
Why Haley Oren? Why him? Why Eileen? Why anybody for that matter? Why were so many people seized and dragged down an ebony, gory mist only to find death standing there in the form of a blue-coated man who was supposed to be dead himself?
The brunet could only guess that that was how things were fated to be… at least, in the world—or mind of Walter Sullivan….
… Yes, Haley had a temper… yes, Haley could be annoying at times when he was tired from work and bearing Brad's existence… but, in his view, she didn't deserve to be tormented and harmed in some form by Walter Sullivan. Hell, no one really did, but he supposed that some things couldn't be help with a suicidal, 'Room-loving' madman running around…
… "AntiSacrament… Conjurer…"
… He had to stop him… one way or another…
Rushing to the door, the photographer was just able to get his hand around the door when there was a knock on the other side.
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"Shhh… I know it's hard to take in…"
Haley gripped Walter's shadowy coat as tears flowed freely down her flushed cheeks. After his 'loving' words and learning the shocking truth that she was to fade away into some guy she wasn't even sure she knew… the Southern had thrown herself even farther into His icy arms, crying her brown orbs out. As He nuzzled her hair with His dark countenance, His hands rested against her shoulder blades and He grimaced slightly when He heard her sob miserably.
"I'm sorry you had to know this way… if only he hadn't stopped me… You would have been safe… And We could have been with Mother…" Walter hissed malevolently as He moved His head to rest against her neck, His long, whispery hair tickled her delicate skin. Haley whimpered softly when she felt the pads of his ebony fingers press harder into her back, feeling His anger being seethed hotly against her throat. The sultry air made her shudder softly as a pinkish blush slightly enflamed her cheeks and the brunette tilted her head so she could rest it against His.
"Some things… can't be helped…" whispered the college student as Walter kissed her jawbone affectionately before embracing fully once more. Tears became fresh in her sad irises and the student just decided to give into to His kind aura, letting silence take over the depressing yet tender scene… It didn't last long when curiosity poked the side of her mentality, mumbling a question in her ear that she had wanted answered for some time…
"… What's your name?"
Walter chuckled at His own impudence, realizing that even though He had been at her side for several days now, He had not once even mentioned His own name. How was He supposed to love her if she did not even know His name?
… He decided to fix that minor problem quickly…
"Walter… My name is Walter…"
Haley gently closed her eyes, seeing an image of the young boy again in her fatigued, emotionally-wracked psyche as his small, gory hand reached out for hers. A frozen air brushed against her and the brunette jerked. Gasping as she glanced frettingly around, she perceived that she was no longer in the cool bind of Walter, but trapped in a nightmarish daydream where sanguine coated the sides of a room and rust accented the distorted objects and doorways. There were no hovering, decaying corpses… yet, but she also saw no traces of the mangled dogs and hand-walking Siamese twins which relieved her greatly. The pungent odor of death reeked around her and she brought her hand to cover her nose defensively before she hurled.
"… AntiSacrament…" his small voice called her happily as he beamed sweetly at her. Hesitating, she squatted down enough to lay her arms across her bent knees before he giggled childishly, running away from her to rush down a blood-ridden hallway. As she watched him fall into the shadows, the Southern straightened her body so that she could follow him.
"Hey! Hey, kid!"
Jogging to catch up with him, she found that her surroundings blended from a dank, horrid hallway to a menacing forest and she yielded long enough to gaze at the trees towering above through the light mist. A lantern's light flickered in the night air and the soft, contenting fragrance of pine trees met her range of smell. The girl inhaled it joyfully, despising the prior odor immediately. Walking forward, she breathed once more, only to find that the air was filled with the 'aroma' of…
… Burning flesh…
The crackling of flames and a static-like hum poured into the placidity, making the hairs of the back of her neck stand. A gurgled groan echoed behind the student, who slowly turned around with a flash of cold fear etched across her paled face and brought a lithe, trembling hand to her lips.
A young man… Haley could see glimpses of a pained, burned face through the menacing fire engulfing him as this unknown male twitched and floated towards her, a chalice hanging in his hand. Behind his approaching form, a slithering glimpse of something crossed the brush before edging out before a grayish woman slinked into the morbid clearing, her impossibly long hair trailing around her. They jerked profusely and hovered just above the ground before coming to a stop right in front of her…
'17121… Jasper Gein… Source…'
'16121… Cynthia Velasquez… Temptation…'
…
'19121… Richard Braintree… Chaos…'
As the words whispered through the soft breeze around her, something began to prick at her head; something harmful and yet achingly familiar. The stinging of another presence, and yet she knew before she caught a full view of it that it wasn't human. Another man this time, only elderly and standing completely on the forest floor with a pipe in his hand, ready to strike and the numbers '19121' carved in his forehead. A brief insult of his charred guise and tie flickered in Haley's mind, but it was banished immediately when the most frightening of them appeared…
The 'twins'…
'07121… Billy Locane… 08121… Miriam Locane…'
"Children… only children…"
They were just children… barely old enough to know that there was such a thing called 'evil' in the world… hardly old enough to protect themselves from a man who axed them and stole their hearts…
Tears abruptly pierced her eyes, and the Southern girl fell to her knees as ensanguined scenes of two kids played on a dirt road began to play through a grainy 'screen'… So innocent and happy they were, just playing with their toys… not a care in the world… Then a shadow loomed above them… fear and dread on their naïve features… an axe beating down on the boy… then the girl… screams… crimson and skin… hollow eyes staring at an endless sky as rain clouds formed above…
A bell rung in the distance…
"No… no…"
Another clang of metal against metal…
Two young adult males… strangled… choking breaths for help echoing deathly in the halls…
A teenager with dread on his face as he pronounced he saw God… before being beaten to death…
An elderly woman floating in a disputable source of water… garbed in black…
A middle-aged man writing mysterious markings on his own hands… a soft chant of children fading in the background…
A Hispanic woman… younger… stabbed… a… man holding her as she died…so familiar…
"A… dream?"
A portly man drowned… being watched by that same mourning man…
Electricity…a child… that man…
Eileen…beaten… numbers carved in her back…Walter…
As the cause of their deaths overloaded her horrified mind, the other victims came… and the numbers and names hissed into her ear similarly as before… The myriad of shushes would have completely overwhelmed had she not fallen to her knees and grabbed the sides of her hair for leverage against the melancholy onslaught. It wasn't possible… all these things circumcising her… used to be people…These corpulent forms were at one time alive…
How could have anyone have done this to them…?
'12121… Peter Walls… Void…'
'13121… Sharon Blake… Darkness…'
'02121…Bobby Randolph…'
'03121… Sein Martin…'
The list went on and on in no ordained order… just mixed-and-matched and dripping with homicide.
Finally… glimpses of the man that had been shown in some of the more recent deaths… began to take better shape… Haley could see that he was a brunet with broad shoulders and a exhaustedly saddened gaze at all he had seen in his ventures through the hellion safe haven. His eyes were kind and yet they showed a determination to right what was wrong in the nightmare…
'21121… The Receiver of Wisdom…'
So… he was the Receiver…
The college student, quietly resting on her knees now that most of the rushing insanity had receded, now perceived this man's true role. Regardless of whether it was because of her or not, he was destined to die… like all the rest… but that didn't mean the brunette had to agree with it…
The young boy now sympathetically stood beside her, laying a hand on her back before hugging her neck. "It's all right… Mommy wants to see You…" he murmured encouragingly. In response, the young woman shook her head, unable to see why all these deaths summed up to help one person… It was inconceivable, in a sense, to have so much blood on hands such as His... and such hands could be used for purposes other than insanity-induced murder. Resting her chin against his small arms, she shook her head again more fervently while feeling an acrid twinge growing in her chest.
"It's not right…" retorted Haley before grasping his tiny hands into hers. "It's not right to kill people…"
"But what if they deserved it?"
Gasping, she jerked her head up to find the man in the coat standing ahead of her kneeling form, His cold verdant eyes gazing upon her harshly. The ambiance she once felt as warm and amorous was now bitter and distrustful, signaling that the killer had taken hold of the man's body now and was ready to fully approach her with His psychotic meaning for destroying the lives of twenty people. Sensing His dissolving patience, the Southern clung to the hands of the younger form in fear of what He was capable of now that He had His physical being back…
"Answer."
A name voiced itself through her ears by some unknown sound and the woman raised herself as she took the child into her arms and held him close to her upper form in a motherly fashion. Glaring loathingly at Walter Sullivan, Haley tensed her shoulders bravely met His steel-emerald eyes with her own dark brown ones.
"The Receiver of Wisdom would tell you that 'no one deserves what You put these people through…!' And I… agree with that; I agree with Henry!"
Her words seemed to have pierced His thoughts as a vague look of surprise slipped onto His face before the stoic expression filled the crevices back. The blond showed no contempt for her growled rebellion and He did nothing for a few minutes.
Smiling hideously, He stepped closer, and Haley pulled the child closer as he cringed at the nearness of the man. A calloused hand briefly grazed along the cheek of the female and though the blood on His skin sickened her, she found that she could not pull back. Instead, she leaned further into the feel of His skin on hers and soon, His palm was pressed completely against the side of her visage. The flame that once reigned against now barely lit the back of her mind now that His knuckles were caressing the area just beside her lips.
"So frail… and so beautiful… My AntiSacrament…"
Chapped, torn lips fell on hers lightly, kissing her almost exaltingly as His hair tickled her calm countenance, all anger and hatred towards him blowing out in a puff of smoke. The boy in her arms became nothing but air and the formidable presence of the victims' ghosts left without a reason nor a trace. She became aware of Him and Him alone as His arms encircled her waist and pressed her quivering torso against His own. His lips stayed on hers lovingly and soon He began to pour His soul into hers after discerning that she would no longer put up a worthy fight…
Her fingers glided into His greasy hair as His essence, His being… they became a part of her…
"Through you… I will kill them… and soon… we can be together…"
Eyes that were supposed to be russet shot open and revealed impassive orbs of emerald. The long, blue trench coast covering most of 'her' form creased slightly as she stood, motionless once 'she' achieved the stance. Listening intently, 'she' heard a muffled yell through the walls as a commotion took place in the apartment beside 'hers.'
"You bastard! You stole her from me!"
A pained grunt followed afterward and 'she' smiled evilly, 'her' feet stepping towards the kitchen to grab a knife before moving to exit the apartment.
Soon… very soon… He would be with Mother…
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End of Chapter Six.
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Hoped you liked that piece of literature… if it's called literature.