Silent Hill: The Inner Monster
Page 27
By John Priest (Noctros, Efrit, Drake, etc)
*John's story*
As Tai and her companion Jake manage to continue their voyage through the Otherworld they have been trapped in, John hasn't had as much luck. He's been confined inside this room, unable to get out or find a way around the locked door which is hindering his progress. The inability to move on ahead has gotten to John, aggravating him as if he was being bitten by a flea. He's already tried breaking through the door down with his Emergency Hammer, but since the door is composed of a strong iron alloy, it was to no avail.
He paces throughout the room, trying to concoct any possible solution to his current dilemma. After several minutes, he still cannot come up with one and in frustration, slams his right hand on a nearby wall, causing something to let off a sound. Even though he was being fueled by his rage, John still managed to catch that sound and in curiosity, slams his hand on the same wall, once again causing the nose to occur. He repeats this, slowly treading across the wall until he comes to an odd, tore-up painting.
He grips both sides of the painting with his hands and removes it from its perch, revealing a little stone marker. Curious, he slightly pokes at the odd concrete protrusion, which in effect, causes the marker to tip over and reveal a small, circular indentation. John's touch causes the indentation to sink, an odd loud echoing noise being let out from the direction of the door that bars his path. He cautiously approaches the door, Emergency Hammer gripped tightly in both of his hands. He frees his right hand from it's tight hold on the hammer and uses it to slowly twist the door's handle. Slowly, he open's the door, his right shoulder planted firmly against its iron layer. He then bursts through the door, using his right shoulder to throw the door against the wall and possibly into the path of any awaiting monsters. But it hits none, revealing John's path to be clear.
John hunches the Emergency Hammer upon his right shoulder, gripping its handle tightly with his right hand. He uses his free left hand to make sure that the contents of his duffel bag are still intact. Satisfied with his quick check, he marches on ahead across the barren, frost-covered metal grating. Each footstep scatters the underlying frost beneath his feet, lessening the chance of him tripping. But John still tries to be careful, his caution being fueled by a mixture of paranoia and unease. He's fully aware of his own paranoia, feeling that it is justified in the sense that he's been trapped inside this surrounding arctic hell.
The ensuing survey inside the long, cage-like hallway, only serves to further deepen John's belief in that this world is toying with him. Occasionally, he hears the sounds of anothers footsteps. The footsteps being softer, yet somehow even more audible than his own. He takes a few glances to his right and a few to his left, trying to do it un-suspiciously so that he doesn't alert the being that may be stalking him. He'd consider these footsteps as mere paranoia, perhaps a simple trick of the mind, but he knows better. He made sure to remember how the frost he walked past looked, and always noticed how it'd be scattered as if someone or more appropriately, something, was following him.
Eventually, John forces himself to ignore the unease he is feeling and tries to move on, focusing on the environment around him, taking in its perplexing landscape. Looking through the hallways grating makes John queasy. He hates heights, contradictory to what people may think when they see his tall stature. In fact, his height only serves to further deepen his fear of heights. Yet, for some reason he cannot explain, he finds the prospect of windy mountain tops and high-up areas, to be beautiful in a way. Natural, serene, calming, and soothing are the words he'd use if asked to describe them. Yet this overlaying structure, above a seemingly endless pit with an eerie, barely visible blue glow, covered by a thick fog which seems to act like a form of a barrier between those above it and those below it, fills John with a profound sense of dread.
When he looks above through the grating over his head, he can only see darkness. The same can be said of the areas to his left and his right, which seem to harbor no walls, only a hollow space, devoid of corporeal matter. It perplexes John how this structure can remain afloat. There seems to be nothing tethering it to any form of matter. He smiles a bit, realizing how idiotic he's been. He's been applying real, sane life physics to this odd, insane domain. He'd likely had continued to dwell on this matter had he not just reached the end of the hallway, opening the accompanying door and heading right through it as he tries to escape the feeling of being pursued.
Once through the door, John feels as if a weight had been lifted off his shoulders. He still has his paranoia, but it isn't as severe as it was during the hallway. He lets out an audible sigh, taking in another breath of air and focusing his mind. He walks slowly, making sure to examine every little detail he can. The room he is in, is less metallic as its predecessor yet almost as cage-like, exuding out a constant aura of oppression. Two windows of medium height placement are the only openings inside of the room, letting through a look into the space outside of the room. Having already seen enough of that bluish void to last him a lifetime, John instantly decides to avoid the windows on account of what may have been following him and what could possibly be awaiting him should he let his curiosity get the best of him.
No real furniture exists in the room John is in, only a few oddly placed obtrusion's coming out of the "floor" align together in his view. Patches of frost occupy various spots on the floor, having come through the windows above them. John shivers slightly, putting his arms together and rubbing each other mildly, so he can warm himself up and raise his body temperature. Each breath he has let out takes on a vapor-like form as it exits his mouth, showing just how cold his surroundings truly are. He rubs his arms a few more times before ceasing his previous activity, and proceeding to look around the room for any possible clues or items of interest. For a few minutes, his search appears to be fruitless, bearing no positive results for him.
John decides to take a break away from his search, his body already feeling the chill of his surroundings once more. He locates a suitable perch, it being one of the many obtrusion's located inside of the room, using it as a seat. He goes to sit down on it, ready to rest his agitated legs, but when he finally puts his weight on top of the obtrusion, it shatters. He goes down hard, landing on top of something. He lets out an incredibly audible curse in response to his latest misfortune. He gets off of his bottom after sitting down at the spot for a couple seconds, dusting himself off and turning around to see what he had the unfortunate luck to land on. He finds a box of pistol ammo together with a small, metallic key. With no label or tag, John can only guess as to what this key may go to.
Deciding he has spent enough time in this room, not wishing to possibly lure any unforseen forces to himself, John exits out of the room to the left, going through the door and onto a ramp. The ramp slowly elevates farther and farther into the air, making it clear that it leads to higher ground. The ramp, made of grated metal and patterned frost, adds to the frozen atmosphere that surrounds him. Walking up the ramp, John can't help but to feel a need to look around, to make sure that he's safe. Something about this place, just unnerves him. From the floating mist in the air, to the darkness around him, with only a dark blue light beneath him being the only source of illumination besides his own flashlight.
John notices an array of noises circling about. Soft, unspoken laughter. Weak, child-like sobbing. The constant wailing of the voices around him dig deep into John's skin. Causing it to crawl, unnerving him further and further as he ascends into the next level. He comes to a sudden halt at the iron door, hesitating as his hand firmly grips the door knob. He isn't sure why, but he's suddenly been entrenched by a sudden sense of dread. Perhaps it's the voices echoing all around him. Perhaps it's the knob's frigid feel to his touch. Whatever it is, John takes a moment to gather his courage and proceeds to trudge through the doorway.
Once he makes his way through it, he strongly slams the door shut behind him, placing his back onto it for a moment before resuming his trek through this strange, twisted, and preserved area.
The room he's entered is fairly normal for the area he's in. Covered in varying amounts of frost, icicles hanging up above him, etc. Nothing particularly noticeable. So, John spends a few minutes inside the room, moving around some of the "furniture" to see if he can find anything, but his search comes up fruitless. He decides to leave the room to explore on ahead, but he is caught in a dilemma. Two doors, two paths. Which one does he take? He ponders this issue for a moment or two before settling with an adequate decision. He goes with the door to his left, located at the western half of the room.
Same as before, the hallway is composed of open iron grating, showing the surrounding world to all potential observers. Various obtrusion's align the floor, sometimes forcing him to force his way past them as he walks down through the hallway. He can see various room ahead, which stick out like sore thumbs when connected to the grated iron hallway. They are made up mostly of solid metal, with things like windows being the only openings on them. The first several doors he comes to have broken locks or have been barricaded from the inside. But luckily, the fourth door he comes to, on his right, is not broken or barricaded. He crosses through the doorway and into the room itself, shutting the door behind him as he trudges forward.
In the room, cages seem to litter the floor, emitting some sort of putrid stench as they lay still. All John can really do, is cover his nose and hope to make this a quick visit. He searches throughout the room, uncovering a couple health drinks in return for his curiosity. Happy, he continues his search, eventually coming to a dilapidated heap of scrap metal. He looks' around the heap, trying to pinpoint any possible interesting things. For a moment, he cannot for the life of him locate anything. But, after prodding the heap with his hammer a few times, he notices a tiny little glint emanating from a bronze-colored object. With a single moment of slight hesitation, he slowly plunges his hand into the heap and grips the mystery item with his hand. He quickly closes his hand and pulls his hand out of the heap. He moves his hand into a viewable position and opens it, revealing a key with the label "containment".
As he was preoccupied with this matter, the darkness around him slowly grew darker. Phantoms emerging, shadows casting, and figures crawling out from oblivion itself. John smiles for a bit, but his smile quickly dissipates and his soul is frozen with fear as his ears are assaulted by a moist gurgling coming forth from behind him. His eyes open wide and his lungs exhale all oxygen as he slowly turns his head and the phantoms lunge.