Wretched
Disclaimer: I do not own Silent Hill.
VII. The Seventh Day
A/N: See, I told you there would be more. And there's more after this, too.
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When Pyramid Head woke up, he wished he hadn't.
Maria's weight on his chest was something of a reminder of his responsibilities, now. He had come to be the only friend—besides James Sunderland—to her, and as such, since he was the only one around at the time of her death, he should put her to rest properly.
But…he didn't. Because he couldn't. Because he didn't want it to be the end, and maybe, just maybe, if he let her lie still in the room they had shared for almost a week, she would magically wake up.
He didn't dare touch her, because he doubted he could keep as calm as he had been if she were cold or stiff. Or both.
So he left quietly, leaving her to lie forever curled around the shape of where his body had once been, perhaps still thinking he was there, even in death.
His legs were significantly weaker and unsteady, but he managed just fine as he stormed down the hall, hands fisted tightly at his side. He needed some sort of distraction—something—anything—to take away the unyielding constrictions working around his heart.
He found it in a faceless nurse.
"You," Pyramid Head growled, stopping mid-step to watch the zombie woman convulse and then whirl around to face him, scalpel at the ready. When she saw it was just him, though, she dropped the defensive stance.
He surprised her by grabbing her by the neck and tossing her all the way to the other end of the corridor. Her body hit the opposite wall with a sickening sound of breaking bones and splitting flesh.
And he loved every minute of it.
Kill her, the voice implored. She killed Maria, kill her.
He passionately agreed and grabbed the first weapon he could find—a spear hanging on display in a dead man's room.
The nurse began to painfully pick herself up, her feet twisted at an impossible angle and bleeding from her empty face as well as various other choice places.
The end of his spear jutted straight into her chest at one deft shove, and he delighted in her shriek and the way blood spurted to paint the hallway red. Suddenly, he looked like himself again. Even the smell of citrus had eventually faded so that all he could detect was the scent of blood and steel.
Pulling the spear out was what officially made the zombie nurse drop to the floor, just a puddle of shuddering limbs.
He bent down, picked her up by her dress, and tore it off. His fingers grabbed at skin—ripping it, making it bruise and bleed even as she rasped and cried in her strange monster language that sounded more like moans than anything. His pulled his apron up around his hips and sunk himself in, groaning at the sensation that he'd missed most in the past week. He closed his eyes and tried to imagine that it wasn't a dying she-fiend thrashing and clutching at him beneath his almost panicked thrusts.
It didn't take long. It usually never did when he was in such a bad mood, and he came with a throaty gasp. "Maria."
The nurse was limp by the end, hands lying on the ground by her head. When he covered her face with a palm, he could imagine it was Maria. It was Maria who had just accepted him, trusted him with her life, and even let him fuck her. It was Maria who was covered by him, with his filth, and she cherished every second of it. It was Maria who had agreed to stay with him for a while—just until he went back to normal, at which time she should run and run fast.
He pushed himself off of her and kicked her corpse aside, grabbing his spear by the hilt and continuing on down the hall, through a few sets of doors and down a few stairs, and exiting the building. He walked throughout Silent Hill without really knowing where he was going.
Truth be told, he doubted it would be an easy task dragging himself back into his daily routine—his deliver punishment, do something indulgent, and then whatever else the divine forces gave him the inclination to do. Maria being absent, even though she only stayed by him for a short amount of time, created an odd-shaped hole near him, and it bothered him greatly.
There was another building in front of him, now, and he entered it without a second thought. He was just roaming his territory, anyway. There was nothing to look for anymore—nothing to look forward to. Even killing James Sunderland didn't really appeal to him much. He just wanted to get his rounds done and over with so that he could find some place to sleep his anxiety off.
There were quite a few hall- and stairways in this building, he pondered briefly, stopping to scratch his neck. And he was incredibly tired. He thought it wouldn't matter, so he sat down, folded his legs beneath him, and dozed lightly. His dreams were tainted with blonde hair, though he couldn't tell whose it was.
Hours later, when he could tell that night was upon him through a nearby window, hurried footsteps awoke him. He looked through the opening of a room divider to see James Sunderland running. He stopped short of a door, though, and pulled out a first-aid kit. "Maria," he said suddenly, motioning for someone to come forward.
At the mention of her name, the hair on the back of Pyramid Head's neck stood on end.
A girl trotted forward, stained with blood and panting. "James," she said, gasping for breath. "You're going too fast!"
He shook his head. "I'm sorry. I just want to get out of here as soon as possible."
Pyramid Head was on his feet in an instant, spear in hand and marching down the hall in quick strides. Maria, Maria, Maria… She was alive, walking, breathing, and even talking. He didn't know how it was possible, but he didn't care at the moment. All that mattered was, once again, Maria and her safety.
James stilled, his fingers tightening around the first-aid kit he had pulled from his pocket. He looked up at Maria then, a frightened expression marring his features—rugged from prolonged exposure to Silent Hill in all its greatness.
Maria blinked, stared at the ground, and then looked back at James. "It sounds like footstep—"
"Maria, run!"
He was pulling her along before she ever really got a chance to stutter in confusion.
"What? What is it?" she shouted over the hollows sounds of their footfalls.
"That red pyramid thing!" James said on a breath, turning a corner sharply. "Come on!"
She faltered for a second, then stopped completely, turning around to face where Pyramid Head began advancing upon them. She frowned, taking a hesitant step toward him. "Pyramid Head…?"
James skidded to a halt, visibly grinding his teeth. "Maria, let's go!" He nudged her forward. "He'll kill you!"
She took a couple more cautious glances at Pyramid Head before nodding fearfully and following the blond man.
But Pyramid Head would have none of this, and he broke into a full-out run.
James turned his head slightly, gasping and panting for breath, to see Pyramid Head closing in on him. He grunted and pushed Maria farther ahead of him.
Maria stumbled a few steps. "James!" she said in half indignation, half worry.
He pulled out his gun and loaded another clip into it. "Maria, just go! I'll…I'll hold him off!"
"James, don't!" Maria yelled, balling her fists. "I can't—"
James opened fire, scowling at each kickback. The bullets bounced dully off of Pyramid Head's helmet.
Maria, Maria, Maria, the voice chanted as James finally gave up on incapacitating him and instead turned to run. She's there, just ahead of you, behind James Sunderland, take her.
James Sunderland dove into the elevator at the end of the hall, huffing and whirling to watch Maria follow after him. "Maria, hurry!"
"Wait!" Maria shouted, terror lacing her words. The elevator doors began to close, and she pushed herself faster.
Pyramid Head's heart coincided with the beat of her quick footsteps on the carpeted ground. His tightened his fist around the spear, beginning to sprint as he saw that she would actually make it—that she would actually leave him again.
He wasn't about to let that happen.
She stuck one of her hands in between the two doors, and Pyramid Head heard the telltale crack of bones. She yelled out in pain.
"No!" James cried, sounding a little shell-shocked. He began to pry open the elevator doors, but they wouldn't budge.
"James," Maria pleaded, her eyes glassy with tears and her broken wrist hanging limply through the doors. "James, please."
"H—hold on, I'm trying!"
Sobs tore from her throat as she turned halfway to face Pyramid Head, a look of body-wracking dread painting the features of her visage.
Pyramid Head lunged, weapon pointed dangerously toward her.
Maria screamed.
James closed his eyes.
And the elevator started down.
Then Pyramid Head stuck his spear in the wall near Maria's head, causing her knees to buckle beneath her. He caught her as she fell.
Her eyes were wide and staring at nothing, at first, before switching to the square in his helmet that she kept thinking was where he saw out of. "H…how…?"
"I don't see from there."
She didn't seem to care, for her body stayed lax and she kept on staring at him with those bright blue eyes and the soft curve of her lips. Then, finally, she brought her good hand up to touch his helmet.
He didn't even flinch.
She hadn't stopped crying. "You're better." Her hands felt to the back of the helmet, and then underneath it, playing with his neck and the straps that held his headpiece on.
He still held her half-suspended above the ground, the heels of her boots resting against the floor and her back arched around his grip. The only thing she kept up was her head, and that was only to look at him in an amazed daze.
Something behind his left ear clicked. Then the right ear. And finally, right behind his head. He almost dropped her, twitching away.
"Wait," she commanded gently, finally righting herself. He still didn't release her, though.
Slowly, he felt the helmet being lifted from his head. Cold air swept through his hair and over his face as she removed it.
He wondered what he looked like.
She didn't say anything for a moment, just traced the curve of his exposed cheekbones with her thumbs. "You…"
He frowned, and he watched her facial features tighten into a wry smile when he did so.
"You have very pretty eyes," she said under her breath, leaning forward to inspect them more. "Very b—"
He touched his lips to hers, just like he had dreamed about.
Her hands immediately came to rest upon his chest, pushing him away. But he didn't, and she tried to talk around the kiss. "Pyramid Head, wait—"
His arms pulled around her waist, pressing her against him. He was so tall and she was so delicate… He had to bend down at an extreme angle to be able to reach her, but somehow, this just increased the attraction factor.
The voice, who he expected would start chirping his little "fuck her" piece, surprised him with an earnest plea. Don't let her get hurt again. Keep her—make sure she's safe.
"Pyramid Head," she said again, mumbling now. "Please stop."
He only did so when a nurse came upon them and he was forced to turn around, killing her with his bare hands. He didn't have to mull over why the nurse had stared at him so intently. His face was naked to all of Silent Hill. So why hadn't he been able to pull the pyramid off?
Maria held the helmet tight to her when Pyramid Head came beside her again. She smiled good-naturedly, but she still trembled. "I'm glad that you're able to walk again."
He averted his eyes to the vital piece of his ensemble she held in her hands.
She followed his gaze and then swallowed, handing it to him. "This is—I'm sorry. I was…I just thought that, before I go, I should at least do you a favor."
He took the helmet and promptly threw it aside.
She winced. "I'm sorry. I should…I mean…can I leave now?" She began inching toward a nearby door.
"No," Pyramid Head ground out, making a grab for Maria. She struggled against his hold.
"Why do you want to kill me?" she asked on a breath, making him start.
He furrowed his brow. "What?"
She wriggled her arm to try and free herself, but to no avail. "You keep stalling, and it's only starting to grate on my nerves! If you really want to get rid of me so bad, then do so now."
He released her, scowling deeply.
She took a few steps backward, holding her arms out as if to display herself, for all her worth, to him. "Well? Go ahead. Do anything. I'm tired of you tormenting me and my…my friend!"
Her friend meaning James Sunderland. His expression took a dark turn for the worse, and he advanced upon her, reaching out one groping hand.
She kept her resolve.
He tugged her up by the collar of her torn jacket, pinned her against the wall harshly, growled…
…and kissed her again.
This time she leaned into the kiss ecstatically, folding her legs around his waist to keep her balance against the wall. Her hands smoothed back his hair from his forehead, though he noticed that one set of fingers moved much gentler than the other. He'd have to help her fix that soon.
"You left," he murmured against her, breaking apart for a second only to come back more forcefully, parting his lips in such a way that he made his own mind go fuzzy.
"You left," she said, but in a mock-anger tone. "You were gone this morning."
"You were dead."
"I was not."
He didn't care anymore. He just wanted to bury her in himself—wrap around her so tight that she'd never hope to escape again, and anybody or anything that came near her would feel his swift ire.
At the first feel of her tongue, a jolt of electric pleasure shot through his body, and he almost bit down. Filthy, disgusting, vile bitch, but she was his filthy, disgusting, vile bitch, and he never wanted that to change.
She pulled away from him suddenly, and he groaned piteously at the loss.
"Is there a reason," she teased, tugging lightly at one fringe of his bangs, "that almost everyone in Silent Hill is blond?"
And then he knew he'd never hear the end of this little escapade.