I don't own anything associated with Kingdom Hearts or Silent Hill. They belong to Disney/Square Enix and Konami respectively.

Just some creepy stuff before we see what Ven's up to.

Chapter 10

The water was red as it ran down her arm. Aqua found the blood washed off easily, and soon the only sign of her assault were a couple of bruises around where the fangs had penetrated. They were an ugly sight, a black of such clarity that it looked as though she had painted her arm with ink.

They didn't hurt when she touched them, a good thing since the boys (and by boys, she meant Ven) were sure to poke at it when they saw. They had a custom of flaunting bruises and boasting about how tough they were; and the bigger it was, the better they considered it. However, neither seemed particularly happy whenever she tried to do the same, especially Terra. He tended to hover instead, and demand to know what had happened.

She sighed. Xemnas had passed a scarf onto her right before she walked out, and now she tied the red fabric so that it covered the bruises. Along with acting like a grouch whenever she came home injured, Terra had an annoying inclination - if she or even Ven were injured on a mission with him - to try to seek out the thing that had hurt them. Usually, Ven or her had already taken care of it themselves, to which Terra would respond by being unnecessary violent as long as they were on that world. And with his previously voiced frustrations about Ven, she didn't think that was a state she wanted him in.

Surprisingly, although the wind brushed her wet arm, the site felt warm, not cold. The frayed ends of the scarf fluttered behind her, the colour matching the flush on her skin as she shivered. The water had soaked into the ground by now, leaving behind a thin layer of red that dyed the withered grass. She scanned her arm once more for any more blood, and then muttered a quick spell to lessen the bruising.

The gravestones lay bare before her when she walked to the front of the church. She did her best to advert her gaze, although sometimes, her eyes would pass over one or another, and each name sent shivers up her spine. The letters were all finely etched, flawless when compared to the graves that bore them. They were old and worn, crumbling in some places, and a few were cracked down the middle.

There was an open grave, which was strange because Aqua was certain it hadn't been there earlier; however, the dirt walls were crusted with frost, so it couldn't be that freshly dug. Thankfully, the hole was empty.

She wasn't that close to the hole, but her foot hit a patch of ice as she passed, and she stumbled towards it. Just as she had righted herself, the earth gave way; she tumbled into the grave, smacking her head against the opposite side.

Her arm stung. Aqua rubbed it tenderly, looking around in confusion. It took a few seconds for her location to click, but once it did, the hairs on the back of her neck stood on end. She scrambled out, breathing hard as she sat by the edge. The air felt as though it had dropped a few degrees, and she unconsciously hugged her knees tight to her chest.

Across the hole, a grave stared at her. Unlike the others, it wasn't just words. There was a crude drawing of an upright figure wielding a knife, with a red helmet.

She walked up to it and crouched to get a better view. She had seen this picture before in Naminé's room. It was a side profile and she could only see one side of the triangle, but Aqua knew that there was more to the helmet; that if she could pluck it off the grave and shape it into something real, the edges would come together as a pyramid. Without thinking, she reached out to do exactly that.

When the red passed from the helmet to her fingers, she knew it was not something as simple as paint. Aqua hurriedly wiped it away, first on the ground and when that failed, on her shorts. The helmet remained unblemished, as if she had never touched it at all.

Directly above the figure were written two lines. These words weren't neat though, but more like a child's scribble. With a growing feeling of forbearing, she read:

Here comes a candle to light you to bed,

Here comes a chopper to chop off your head.

She spun around. Her arm had flown out to the side, anticipating the need to call upon Rainfell. But there was no need; she was alone. Aqua slowly turned back, certain that for a fleeting moment she had heard something like a heavy object being dragged across stone.

There was one more word positioned above all the rest. It was unfinished, as evidenced by the shallowness of the letters. But despite the faintness, this was the word that struck deepest, not only because it was the name of whom the hole was dug for, but because it was a name that she knew.

Ventus

"No," she whispered. Her body was stiff, trembling. This was a sick joke. That was all. Nothing else. But her eyes were drawn again to that figure, whose knife seemed flecked with red to her horrified mind.

"I won't . . ." she murmured, "I won't let them . . ." She wasn't even sure what kind of promise she was trying to make, nor if Ven was in any danger. Not in reality, at least; but her heart was pounding erratically, shouting that this was not the work of some prankster with too much time on his hands. No, this had been made with a darker purpose.

"If it bothers you that much, just scratch his name out. Of course, you'll have to put another in its place."

Her hand twitched. Aqua was tense as she faced the speaker, having already developed misgivings in the few seconds he'd been present. It was a boy, smaller than herself, who wore a black and red bodysuit with a black, domed helmet. He stood not five feet away from her and it was disturbing how close he got without her noticing. The fog seemed to crowd around them, thickening into clouds so that the church vanished and the only things she could see were the graves, and him.

The boy nodded at the grave and asked, "Is he that important to you?"

"Yes," she said simply.

His coiled stride reminded her of a panther. There was a deliberate softness with which he moved, a feigned one that put her on edge instead of calming her. It was only when Aqua started to move to match him, that she saw that between the grave and the hole, he had almost cornered her. Quickly, without any subtlety, she stepped out of the trap.

The boy paused in his movements. "You should forget about him," he said. "It'll only be trouble."

She bristled. "I beg your pardon?" she said, although she had heard him perfectly.

The boy stepped back, hands spread. "It's only the truth, Aqua." She gasped as he spoke her name. "You don't need a runt like that holding you back anymore."

Rainfell flashed into her hand. "How dare you!"

The boy's face was hidden behind that mask, but she could certainly hear his sneer. "Oh, please," he said, "why do you waste so much time protecting that idiot? If it wasn't for him, you wouldn't be in this mess."

"What makes you think that –?"

"So, that scarf is part of your normal ensemble?"

Aqua blinked. She could feel the force of the boy's stare as it focused on the aforementioned object, which seemed to cling tighter to her skin as if alive. Now that it was brought to her attention, the bruises seemed to remember they were there, and ached. The boy chuckled as they did, and it seemed to her that he could look right through the scarf and see the ugly marks beneath.

"That's none of your business," she said curtly, "and unless you want to say something that doesn't insult my friends, Vanitas, then I –"

His voice was sickly sweet, mocking her with false notes of curiosity as he echoed, "Vanitas?"

She went silent. The name had popped out unbidden, and at the time had seemed to fit the masked boy perfectly. Now that she thought back on it though, she could not remember a time that she had learned the boy's name, nor what would have led her to believe so.

"That name was correct, so point for you. Now," and suddenly he was too close, "what would have led you to guess that?"

In her haste to get away, she tripped backwards over a grave. Vanitas' hand shot out, closing on her wrist. It was a harmless gesture, really, meant to keep her upright; however, the fear that filled her was not something that should accompany that sentiment.

However, it did become appropriate when he showed no signs of releasing her.

"Let go, please," she said softly.

Vanitas clicked his tongue, but he did do as she asked. "You still haven't answered my question," he pointed out.

That was true, but because there was no answer to give. She looked away from him, rubbing the wrist he had previously held. His grip had burned.

Vanitas, either not understanding – or ignoring – her silent hint, approached. He moved so suddenly, so swiftly that Aqua didn't have time to check behind her, and backed right into a tree. In that moment of pause, Vanitas closed in, and something stirred in the back of her mind.

"It's been so long," he whispered, and it was in a tone that left her baffled. It sounded more like reuniting with Terra after a long period of separation than a random, creepy remark from a stranger.

She was saved from saying something back by none other than Vanitas himself, who abruptly swivelled around. "What?" he snarled at some unseen person. She could see his rage building, his shoulders beginning to tremble with the strain of keeping it in check. "That stupid witch . . ."

She turned to her suddenly, and although his tone was gentle, she couldn't forget the threat that had been there before. "Looks like I'll have to cut this visit short. See you around, Aqua."

The fog swallowed him up as quickly as he had first appeared. The only evidence that he had even been there were a couple of footprints and the cold sweat that had broken out. She shook her head, attempting to throw off the uneasy sensation that was making her skin prickle, and was moderately successful.

With the departure of Vanitas, the world seemed to open up again. Leaving the church suddenly seemed feasible, and it surprised her that she had not really considered it before. But as tempting as it was to leave and forget everything that had happened, she couldn't ignore the image of the grave that held Ven's name.

Aqua leveled her keyblade at the grave, feeling guilty for what she was about to do. It was technically vandalism, yes, and the Master probably wouldn't have been too pleased, but there was a profound wrongness in leaving the grave as it was; she didn't think she would be able to handle it either, not when she already expected to have nightmares about this day.

The Firaga spell left a black mark where Ven's name had been. She lowered Rainfell, satisfied. Really, nothing had changed: someone had still written Ven's name and underneath all that ash, it must have still been there, but she felt better, at least.

Her task complete, she found her way to the graveyard's metal gates, where a sole raven sat perched on one of the spines. She yanked them open and as she stepped out into the world, the ash fell from the grave, revealing that Ven's name was untouched.