"A woman's figure, judging from what few books I have been able to recover in this place, is quite the opposite, yet similar to a man's, is it not?" the Marked Man asked of Dante, hand dramatically gesturing to emphasize any sort of revelation either of them might have. He lowered his hand slowly, simultaneously turning his head to look over at Dante. Once again, his red, burning eyes acted like smoldering embers, studying Dante's frozen green orbs. A slight smirk twitched at the corner of his mouth - Invidia knew that the human had no clue where this was going. "It was said that Eve was created from a rib of Adam. Similar, yet different," he continued after a pause. Dante merely blinked in confusion, wondering what sort of ploy or distraction the Marked Man was attempting.
"I have never seen a human woman before - I am attempting to create her likeness," the Marked Man then said, holding up the figurine he was whittling earlier.
Dante merely gazed at the Marked Man, at an utter loss for words. Many responses ran through his mind, but he chose to say none of them. He did not know what was going on, or why the Marked Man was trying to recreate a woman.
Invidia frowned, sitting back down in the chair. Although he was not a huge fan of speaking, he enjoyed placing Dante under the magnifying glass to watch him squirm. He went back silently to his attempt to create the form of a female, letting Dante process what he had just said. Maybe he was still recovering from the blow to the head from earlier - evident from the blood caked on his temple.
In that rather long moment of silence - the Marked Man stumbled upon a realization. The one thing he hated the most out of all of Silent Hill, and they shared yet one more thing in common. They were both stuck here, both monsters, and they both enjoyed tormenting others. However, Pyramid Head's sort of torment was cruel and sickening to the Marked Man, who enjoyed a more psychological approach. Ah, it was like some sort of cruel fate... he knew that he and Pyramid Head were "fated" to work together, or even die together.
"... wh-why are you trying to whittle a woman?" Dante quietly asked, surprised of how his own bleak whisper shattered the silence.
The Marked Man silently looked up, studying his work in progress as he thought of a response.
"Women. I wonder, why are there no women here? You and James are both males, and so are most that are fated to drift here. Women must be much more purer than men."
"What does this have to do with anything?"
The Marked Man now wore a full grin, or at least as close as he could get. It came more of a lopsided grimace, making Dante think that he had been wrong to speak.
"Humankind is a flourishing race. And you have noticed here... the only thing that flourishes upon these streets is the fog laced with danger," he then said, looking Dante straight into the eye. The human returned the gaze, though confusion welled in his eyes.
Invidia let his customary frown return to his face. "Dante, pay attention. Upon your answer, your freedom - and perhaps James' - is in the balance."
Immediately, the human blinked the clutter out of his head, his headache suddenly seeming to dissipate with the increase of concentration.
Well, his attention was gained. The Marked Man sat down in his chair, making sure to keep Dante's focus. He took his time, weighing every word he would say, as he often did. This was much more important than anything he had ever said previously. Lacing his fingers together, he rested his chin on them, elbows on knees.
"Will you agree to answer any questions I have of your world?"
How long would he have to wait? How long would the Red Demon simply leave him there?
James wiggled his fingers that were trapped behind his back. He dared to squirm against his restraints a bit more, hands grasping elbows of the opposite arm. His shoulders ached from the straining, slightly awkward position. A sharp stab of pain rocked through his right arm, starting at his wrist. The blonde merely winced, cautiously continuing to wriggle about.
He heard very little noise from the other room where Pyramid Head was.
"W-why?" Dante dared to ask, truly curious, As soon as the syllable left his lips, he realized that he may have already screwed up any chance of getting set free.
"Yes or no!" the Marked Man snapped, scowl returning to his face entirely. He had attempted the thing called "patience", but he just didn't enjoy socializing.
Dante winced, involuntarily blinking rather hard. Damn, he was still scared of that... thing! Upon seeing how human-like the Marked Man was, it was difficult to fully define him as a monster, to place him in the same denomination as those Straitjackets or freaky dog-things...
"Y-yes...! Yes... I will answer anything you ask," Dante managed to gasp past the lump that had formed in his throat. He swallowed hard, trying to subdue his fear, his throat also burning from the need for water.
"Good."
Invidia had slowly formatted an intricate - perhaps impossible - plan ever since he had brushed a thick coating of dust off his first book. He remembered it well. It was a fairy tale of a giant lizard, who ultimately met its demise because of its pride.
Dante was quite vital to his plan, as he would be the main supplier of information that the Silent Hill library could not satisfy.
The Marked Man rose, taking his knife with him, and merely walked out of the cramped hospital room, leaving Dante in silence and darkness.
Footsteps. They were gradually increasing in volume. That meant they were approaching from a long distance or something. But the distinct way the steps were... they were just walking up a long hallway. James assumed they were walking down a flight of stairs.
A dark silhouette blocked some of the light coming in through the doorway as it stepped in front of it. No, it not only blocked it, but seemed to absorb and refuse to reflect it. Red eyes glared down at James past a deep hood. It was the Marked Man.
He simply stepped away, letting light flood back into the room.
James bit his lip, finding himself squirming against his restraints once again. He had to get out of here and find Dante. That is, if the Marked Man hadn't killed him yet.
Heavy footsteps interrupted the man, light once again being denied access to the room. James' blue, clouded eyes suddenly snapped upwards, looking at Pyramid Head. He blinked hard, eyes remaining wide. He refused to let his body language give away his amount of fear.
The Marked Man stepped up past Pyramid Head, kneeling by James, carving at his restraints with his dagger.
"Congratulations, Mr. Sunderland. Dante has managed both of your freedom - at a price," the Marked Man said with a rich voice. It flowed smoothly to James' ears, yet was as harsh as squeezing a lemon on a fresh cut. So, he had killed Dante!
"You are to come with us, and do as you are told."
James was yanked to his feet before he could even let the blood circulate fully back into his arms. Sitting on his legs the entire time, however, currently provided a challenge for him to walk. Pyramid Head grabbed his arm, more dragging him up the steps rather than supporting him.
He was practically dragged outside of the hospital into a drizzling darkness. His own eyes were barely able to discern much outside of two feet around him, but his ears were attempting to make up for the lack of sight.
He heard a slight groan from a voice he recognized.
"Dante...?" he spoke, voice barely above a whisper.
"Hey... James..." the younger male replied, his voice somewhere to the left. He sounded weak, or perhaps still stunned.
"What's going on?" the blonde then dared to ask, despite the tight grip on his right arm.
"We have to help them, I think..."
"Be quiet! Your voices will only bring you suffering," the Marked Man then hissed, ending any further conversation. James heard Pyramid Head give some slight noise, one not unlike a chuckle.
The rain was relieving, perhaps even relaxing if it weren't for the brick in the men's stomachs. But, it was brought to an end when a door was wrenched open, and they were thrust inside some building and into seats.
James heard Dante being shoved in the seat nearby, and he felt a table in front of him. It felt certainly like wood, not metal... had it been saved from the effects of the Otherworld?
The blonde slowly reached his right arm out through the darkness, his fingertips coming across some sort of flesh. He quickly managed to discern it was Dante's hand, and then simply grasped at his arm in the dark, like a scared child looking for their stuffed animal in the darkness. Dante's arm reflexively twitched, as James had pressed against a relatively fresh cut through his sleeve. But Dante did not blame him - he couldn't have known. He also reached out, locating James' arm, and then merely grasped it in return, refusing to let go.
If they were going to die in this place of darkness, then at least they could die together. Neither man planned to leave a fellow human alone in this God-forsaken place, and certainly not at the hands of Pyramid Head and the Marked Man.