Chapter 17: No Such Luck

Sleep came uneasily and unfulfilling in the hotel room they had chosen to spend the night. Light from outside crept in gradually and Julia woke several times only to drift back into a half sleep. Her muscles were stiff and her head was slightly throbbing from the whiskey which reminded her how rough yesterday was. Wiping a bit of drool from the corner of her mouth and yawning she stretched out her arms and legs as far as they would go before snapping them back towards her torso. Rubbing her eyes she yawned again and pulled the 9mm out from under her pillow.

Rubbing her temple with her free hand she opened the door of the bedroom to the living room. Chuck was fast asleep on the couch with his head back and mouth hanging open in complete dereliction of his guard duty. Shaking her head Julia meandered about the room with the gun at her side looking for intruders. While she found none she had the almost irresistible urge to fire off a round anyway just to give the Canadian a rude awakening. Eying one of the cups they drank out of she thought of a better plan.

Standing over the couch with the cup now full of water she dumped it directly down his throat. The killer sprang into a flurry of motion and coughing as Julia leaned away from the couch so she wasn't struck but his flailing limbs. Sputtering, wildly convulsing and eventually falling off the couch in a whirlwind he coughed for a minute while she looked on indifferently.

Coming up with a wet face and wild eyes Chuck looked like he had just seen his ancestors. "What the hell just happened!?"

"Wakey wakey, eggs and bac-ey." she said. "This is your alarm clock. The time is now you-shouldn't-have-been-asleep-you-idiot."

"Oh. Right." he wiped off his brow. "Whoops."

"C'mon, get your stuff. We've got to get back to the apartment."

"Already? I just woke up..."

"Unless you've got a sandwich packed in with your bullets then yes, already. As gross as it is I'm really jonsing for one of those MREs with nothing but booze going down the hatch in the last day or so."

Chuck muttered something about delicious but obliged her and started to pack up. Slipping on the same sweaty socks she'd been wearing the day before Julia sighed to herself. She always knew that one day she'd be right back here, back in this town, mixed up in something insane and just wanting to go home and have a bath. It was true though that even though she was constantly in danger and wanted everyone to be safe that there was something exciting about being here again. She had a good job, a good man, put in time at the gym learning to box and to choke a grown man unconscious but it was all very safe. While she could never admit it to Victor a small part of her wanted to be here more often.

After Chuck relieved himself they headed towards the exit of the old hotel. "You think Victor will be looking for us?" the Canadian asked as he hefted the knight's large shield. Julia kept his large barreled shotgun slung over her shoulder for the time being and sincerely hoped she wouldn't have to use it any time soon.

"No." she shook her head. "He said to go back to the apartment and stay put if we got separated. That's exactly what we're going to do. I wouldn't be surprised if he was there already, polishing his sword or something."

"Heh. Euphemism." Chuck said. "I'm sure he's fine with that armor on."

"You think that'll stop Pyramid Head?"

"Your boy knows what he's doing. A week ago I would have assumed he was dead already but after seeing how well he knows his way around...dude's been at this a long time. I'm sure he's fine."

"I-" she started as they made their way down the grand staircase and Julia realized that they were not alone in the foyer. A girl was rummaging through one of the desks and her head jerked up as they stopped halfway down to the ground floor. She had the surprised look of someone who was caught in the middle of stealing something. Wearing salmon colored jeans and a beige top the thin blonde girl looked like a thousand others Julia associated with malls and cafes. She could have just stepped out of a store that sold flimsy scarves for hundreds of dollars and thus it only accented how out of place she looked standing in the ruined hotel with them.

The three of them did not move for a few seconds. With the surprise gone there was something else in the girl's eyes that Julia didn't like. It was a barely controlled hysteria, a feral gleam just on the brink of total meltdown. The pilgrim could not even think of anything to say but Chuck cleared his throat. "Um, hi." he said.

The girl turned towards them and reached for something. Julia didn't see the gun until it was pointed at them and it did not occur to her that they might be in danger. "Whoa!" she blurted and hastily brought the shotgun up to return the lethal threat of violence. The skittish blonde swung the barrel of a giant revolver back and forth at the both of them and Julia realized from the way she was holding the gun that she likely had never even fired one before.

Chuck acted and dropped himself in front of her. Going to a knee he set the shield down on the steps and used it to cover himself and most of her. Crouching just slightly to get most of her bulk behind the round disc she kept the shotgun on the girl. "All right, drop it." Julia ordered.

"Um..." the girl squeaked uncertainly and she looked more scared now than anything. "No...you drop it."

"Don't be stupid." Julia chided her. "We're behind a bulletproof shield and you're out in the open. From this range the shotgun will turn you to bitch-paste and you look like you couldn't hit the broad side of a barn with that thing."

"You're with him aren't you?" the girl said disgustedly.

"Uh...there's a lot of people that you could call a him. You'll have to be more specific."

"Breannan Murphy. You know who I'm talking about."

"Never heard of him."

"I don't believe you!" she said angrily. With Victor's shield they weren't in much danger and she really didn't want to shoot the poor girl over a misunderstanding. Trying a different tactic Julia asked, "What's your name? I'm Julia."

Taken aback by the sudden change in conversation the girl stammered, "Buh- Veronica."

"This is my friend Chuck here, Veronica. We don't want to hurt you. There's enough things around that want to do that already."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Haven't you seen the monsters here?"

"Why would there be monsters?" the blonde girl wrinkled her nose. "This place has been abandoned for years."

Julia looked down at Chuck who could only shrug. "What brings you here in the first place then?" she asked.

"I'm...looking for Breannan Murphy." the girl said almost hesitantly. "He stole my family's legacy but...I don't know, he's supposed to have died in 1931. I don't even know what I'm looking for..."

Relaxing Julia stood up and put her hands up. "See? We're not your enemies. Put the gun down and let's just talk."

Quivering and looking at the two of them as if she was expecting a trap Veronica finally put the revolver down on the desk she was previously looting. "Wouldn't do me any good anyway." she said dejectedly. "This thing is only good for killing ghosts."

Standing up Chuck let the shield move to the side and Julia took a step down towards their unstable new acquaintance. She had only gone two steps when the blonde cried in a shrill tone, "Don't come any closer!"

"Hey, calm down I'm only-"

"Back off!" she said and jumped towards the revolver. Julia jerked back and brought the shotgun up to her shoulder in case the crazy girl planned on trying to shoot her.

"Whoa, what the hell!?" the pilgrim asked angrily. "We aren't trying to-"

"Just leave me alone!" Veronica cried and suddenly bolted for the door without her gun.

"Hey, wait!" Julia called but the skinny girl was surprisingly fast as she yanked the front door open and disappeared into the mist. Standing there in confusion the dark haired pilgrim looked back to Chuck who was just as confused as she was.

"Uh...okay..." he said.

"Did we...do something wrong?" she asked.

"Nope. It's a shame though."

"What is?"

"That we didn't get her to come with us." he explained.

"Why the hell would we want her coming with us? Bitch almost shot us for no reason."

"Yeah but..."

"But what?"

"She was kinda cute." he shrugged.

Julia rolled her eyes so hard they almost thumped against her skull. "Men. One frickin' track."

"So sue me."

Setting her shotgun down on the table Julia picked up the hand cannon the girl was holding. "Look at this thing. .357 Magnum? Probably would have broken her wrist the way she was holding it."

Rolling the barrel open she found that it was indeed loaded and could have been deadly if used on them. Tilting the gun up she shook the bullets out only to find something odd. Five of them were very, very shiny, almost polished to a mirror luster. The sixth bullet wasn't a bullet at all but appeared to have a hard glass tip. It was fit with a proper cartridge like the others but had some minute amount of red liquid in the hollow tip instead of being solid metal. She wondered if it would even fire or simply explode in the barrel.

"Check this out." she called to Chuck. "Have you seen a glass tip before?"

Holding up the glass bullet to the feeble light the Canadian shook his head. "Never seen anything like this. Look at the shell, no markings or stamps, like they were custom made."

"Hmm."

"Why are they so shiny?"

"No idea."

"Didn't she say it was for killing ghosts? Is that why this one's glass?"

"Maybe. Haven't met a ghost yet though. Don't know if a gun would be useful against one."

"We should take it with us, just in case." he advised. "I'm sure Victor will want to look at it."

"Good idea. I feel bad though." she said as the tucked the bullets into her pocket.

"Why?"

"Even though it wasn't our fault that freaked out girl doesn't even have a weapon. She kinda reminded me of myself when I was first here."

"Yeah but look at you now. You turned out okay."

"In a manner of speaking. Come on. Let's get going."

Heading for the door they stepped out onto the morning streets. The mist seemed lighter, less oppressive than the day before but that might have just been her imagination. Looking around at the empty pavement she tried to get her bearing on where exactly they would be going.

"So...that way?" she pointed the way they had come.

"I guess. Maybe we should take a different street? In case those guys are expecting us again?"

"Yeah, just to be safe."

They started trudging south instead of east. Hopefully the mercenaries were either dead, too scared to follow them or both. There was no helping it though, she had to find Victor and make sure he was okay. She could only hope that he knew she was still alive and he didn't do anything stupid.

"Oh Lily Bell, oh Lily Bell, though I may have done some foolin', this is why I never fell..." he hummed to himself. The near eternally dark sky and thick clouds beat a constant patter everywhere around the solitary figure. Far from the tower that scraped the clouds he sat at the very top of a crumbling castle. Behind him a great forge bellowed itself automatically under the large canvas which kept the ever present rain at bay. Wrought of adamantium and powered by unobtanium the leviathan-shaped forge could create almost anything the user put their mind to.

It was also the location of the sharpest object in that particular reality, period. A fragment of creation itself the Sharpening Stone set into the end of the forge wasn't actually even sharp. It simply unmade whatever passed near it's edge no matter how hard the substance was. Even the forge it was set into, otherwise unbreakable, could not withstand the Stone itself. Though it required no easy trek to get to it was the only thing that would faithfully cut the objects he was shaping. Of course, he had to be careful when working with the Sharpening Stone. There was no substance safe from its event horizon, even the flesh of the one who was in all intents and purposes the god of this plane.

Sitting cross legged in front of the forge he continued to hum to himself as he shaved minute pieces from the great claws at his side. There was no naturally occurring material better suited for making blades than the bones of a dragon and he had some serious restocking to do. His knife harness of adamantium kunai blades had been confiscated by the hated Order though he doubted they had any idea how precious the metal was. It wasn't possible to get enough of the ore to make more of them and he was due for a change in weaponry anyway.

"Master." came the telepathic voice in his head from miles away.

"What is it?" Nothing asked out loud.

"The Lightening approacheth. We do not have sufficient units to restore you to full lethality."

"Make do, Tower." The shade replied as he concentrated on shaving fractions of edges from the bone he was working on. "We don't have time to wait. The resonance draws closer and closer to completion of the Descent every minute."

There was a pause that indicated the other entity was hesitant to speak again. "About the...contingency you have planned..."

"There will be no more discussion on the matter." Nothing instructed as he peeled a layer off the section of dragon claw to form a foot long, three sided dagger not unlike a bayonet. While a traditionally flat edged weapon could cause a deep but not fatal injury this one was guaranteed to leave a grievous, gaping wound with significant blood loss potential.

Pulling the blade away from the Sharpening Stone he examined the edges of the new bone knife. With a proper grip and some decorative carvings it would be fit to carry into battle against Marcus Stone and his Order. While focused on his task the Fater was aware of his servant's silent anxiety. "Speak then." he commanded.

"Master, this mortal is not the proper vessel for such a monumental task. He has not the will, the fortitude, the passion for even a half-Descent. He has already left the misty land once. His fascination with his female companion also does not bode well for his candidacy."

"The old magic runs strong in Victor Rosencrantz." Nothing replied as he selected another three foot claw to begin stripping down. "He is of Silent Hill as surely as I. The signs are all in place, his blood lust, his greed for forbidden knowledge, his oneness with the Darkness. His departure was most unexpected but he remains the best choice."

"And his unwillingness to do what is necessary to complete the Descent, even when furnished with the requisite tools?"

"Let him ponder the complexities of Nowhere. Let him imagine the wonders I can create with a wave of my hand. Make no mistake Tower, the seeds of his Descent have already been planted. All that is left to do is to break down his moral objections. I was hoping he would...better absorb the savage nature of his birthplace sooner than later but we're running out of options."

"He does not respect what you do."

"He will understand in time that I am the only thing standing in between the world of men and true darkness." Nothing promised.

"And if he doesn't?"

Blowing off a bit of scale dust from the bone Nothing said, "Then I will find a suitable replacement."

"Charles Taylor?"

"No." Nothing shook his head despite being alone in the room. "His mind is too fractured, too frail. Already it has broken once but even whole again it is weaker than before. My champion must be not only be dedicated to the task but possess a mind as deadly as anything I could forge. That is the keenest blade of all."

"Who then?"

"Someone born of the misty land, someone who craves it more than she realizes..."

"Julia Stormson?"

"Already once she survived that which would have broken most people. No frilly lass simply walks into the misty land and walks out in one piece without a fire in her heart. Maybe I can get her to view herself as a hero, a protector. It matters not why she chooses to accept this burden, only that she does. Perhaps a glimpse of Nowhere would suffice to alight her curiosity."

"You intend to draw her here?"

"If the circumstance is right. We will see how well she dances on my strings. In the mean time, pull every believer we have left for the Lightening. I intend to pay the Order back a thousandfold for daring to imprison me."

The rain pattered around him and the shade continued to work more weapons out of the bones around him. They would be necessary, oh yes, and he dreamed of nothing else but burying them in Marcus Stone's throat. He would return to Earth soon and when he did, a reckoning would follow.