Greetings, everyone! This is just a brief piece I wanted to write, reflecting my dear Miki's life in prison. If you don't know who he is, then shame on you! Go read Infatuate Infection right now! Tsk, tsk…heheh, anyways, it just goes deeper into the character, something perhaps a few might appreciate if they wanted to know a little more about Miki. It starts a few years before Infatuate Infection. Reviews are always loved!
Disclaimer: I do not own Silent Hill, but I do own Miki. SO DON'T STEAL HIM! Not that anyone would want to, anyways…
February 17th
My third day here, and I've already made a reputation for myself, I suppose. Somehow, prison is not what I was expecting. Yeah, so I had a good idea competition was gonna be high, and dominance was gonna be something one would have to win, but a lot of these guys are looking at me as if I just invaded on personal territory. They look at me in hate, in caution. They don't wanna get near me. I don't look that dangerous, do I? I wonder what they're here for…
February 19th
Writing on toilet paper sure makes me feel damn degraded. I swear I'm going to starve myself before they decide to let me out of here—that is, if they decide to do that. The food tastes like the chef bent over and shit in the pot. What the hell am I to these people? They've dubbed me the nickname 'Madcap Miki'. I'm a messenger. I'm an angel. I'm a prophet. I'm a savior. I'm a healer. I'm a blessing. Damnit, I'm a fucking shepherd. Even the highest of redeemers must strive in the filthiest of pits…
March 2nd
My hair's starting to get longer, and I look like I just crawled out of a sewer…my face is infested, and the stench is starting to fill up the cell. We don't take showers that often, but I don't care. I'm happy about that—no, ecstatic, mentally speaking. I detest water. People still keep away from me. I'm starting to forget what my own voice sounds like.
March 5th
"I shall bring down bitter vengeance upon thee and thou shalt suffer my eternal wrath. The beauty of the withering flower and the last struggles of the dying man, they are my blessings." Thankfully, I still have my precious book, Crimson Ceremony. They couldn't take it away from me on the first day. They all bombarded me, searching me, and then they found it—and I held on, tightly, to it…I ripped the first few pages away from the spine and swallowed them in desperate need, and soon after they backed off and let me alone. I have my Lord's words within me. The body shall pass them through, but their meaning will forever remain. I wasn't able to keep my other book, Lost Memories. I've promised myself, and my people to return to the church and to the Order when I get out of here. I'll retrieve it again someday.
March 10th
I met a new friend today. His name is Rashnu, he told me, which means Angel of Judgment. He lives in a hole in my cell, and he takes the form of a little gray mouse. We talk—I question, and he listens. He answers. He tells me I'm a very thoughtful man, and I have no right to be here, in the slums of human sin. I tell him that I agree. I tell him almost everything…he never speaks until I'm done. I talk of my family, and my hopeless ideas of ever getting out of here. My father and brother would not step foot in here if they knew where I was. Believers of Metatron, I told my little friend. Grew up with Metatron, but I never got attached. I shall keep to my Lord Sammael's orders. Never knew my mother. She died when I was two, and I don't remember anything.
March 21st
They tried to get me to confess and apologize today. I'm supposed to be on death row, but my dumbass lawyer claims me insane. They say if I admit what I did was wrong, it would be the first step to getting out of here—no, first step for them to prove that I'm not a crazy fuck. First step to gas me, zap me with their damned chair, or hang me by one of their stained nooses. I don't want someone else's blood on my cracked neck when I die. I'm not sorry for what I did.
April 10th
Another meeting, another refusal. They're getting frustrated with me, I can tell. They just don't understand. Orders are orders.
April 15th
I kind of miss my little girl. She looked a bit like me—more like her mother, though. Had the same eyes and hair as me, though. Pretty little thing, she was. Her mother meant a lot to me. I'm not a careless asshole. Not as bad as people think, anyways. I felt love. Swear it on my soul. Too bad they had to go.
July 5th
Rashnu asked me how they tasted. Not so bad, I told him. Had to chop them up into little pieces, though, or it wouldn't go down. A little bitter, though. Sour like the flavor of a nonbeliever.
September 16th
Another meeting. I went crazy. "Heads went off real easy," I screamed at them. "Nothing to it. Lots of struggle, but nothing else. Slipped right off. Popped 'em into the oven and watched them burn. I ate pretty damn well that night! Orders are orders. Orders are orders. Orders are orders. Orders are orders. Orders are orders. Orders are orders. Orders are orders. Orders are orders…"
September 18th
Where has my sanity gone?
November 28th
I have a feeling something's going to come. I've read the same book over and over and over, but it gives off no hints as to when my Lord shall bring what us believers have suffered through to deserve. Paradise. I wonder what it looks like, feels like…I wonder who will be there? I hope there's a saved seat for me next to my Lord Sammael's high throne…
December 25th
Some of the prisoners say it's snowing outside, although I doubt any of us would really know. Probably heard it on one of the guard's radios. I haven't seen snow in years…only fog, and lots of it. I gave a little more than half my food to Rashnu in mock celebration of this "wonderful" day. My happiness does not benefit.
February 2nd
I've been here for a while now, and I know almost everything about the prison. Today, however, I saw something new. Something I'd never seen before. Today was an unfortunate day that we were led to the showers, and while in there, trying to avoid as much moisture as possible, my eye caught something…too strange for the eyes to perceive. As the showerheads sprinkled out clean drops, a long, tube-like thing began to crawl out from a particular drain, the one in the corner. It reminded me much of a fleshy worm, purple veins lining its sides, no eyes to adorn its head. Only a small mouth, which you had to squint to see, holding perhaps hundreds of teeny sharp teeth. I watched in awe as it flopped itself out from its mold-ridden burrow, and onto an enormous prisoner's bare foot. I ran forward just as the vile thing was opening its mouth to take a chunk from the prisoner's toe, and I pushed the man, not even knowing why I cared. After there was a clutter of falling, I bent down to catch the monstrosity, but…it was no longer there.
I received two black eyes today.
At least Rashnu believed me.
March 13th
I keep seeing them. Worms everywhere. One even tried to spit water at me. Is this supposed to be a cruel punishment for what I have done? Where is my reward?
July 1st
My mind is no longer there, or here. Wherever it has been for the last thirty or so years of my life. Nothing's the way it used to be. Sinks and showerheads are rusted. The walls are flecked with blood. I wake up in my hard, cold bed to the sight of my daughter's head lying in front of me, mouth agape, green eyes staring. My Lord must be testing me.
September 23rd
The images are getting thicker, more accurate. My hallucinations are no longer blurred. They're not even hallucinations anymore. They're reality.
June 2nd
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June 14th
There are loud noises outside my cell. Screams. Yells. Chaos. What's going on? I have no clue what's happening, and yet, I have a feeling it's connected to what I've been seeing. Messages being sent to me…tests I've been required to pass. Is this the result? Have I won or lost? Let me go get my book…all right, it's safe. What am I going to do? My door won't budge, and there's nothing I can do to open it otherwise. Paradise! Has Paradise come at last? Or is this just the second step? Oh, my Lord, how I have longed to see you, fulfill your needs! I still do not regret what I did. Get me out of here, I beg of you! I want to help the process deepen. I can hear their shrieks and pleas! Smite them, my Lord, for they have done me wrong! It has come, it has come, it has come at last…let me out of here, my Lord, let me out, let me out, let