The demented laughter and inhuman moans make the Night Hunter twitch in her sleep, the haunting echo of muffled sirens causing Vayne's eyes to suddenly snap open. With practiced ease and a discipline accumulated from escaping countless surprise attacks, Shauna rolls away from her current position and points her wristbow across the old gloomy room.
And yet Vayne quickly realizes that her miniature crossbow is missing as well as the enormous one that is usually strapped on the pale huntress' back. With no weapon nearby and a lack of immediate threats in sight, the huntress decides to survey her unfamiliar surroundings lest Shauna fails to notice something of importance and dooms herself by her inattentiveness.
Dusty grey walls and rotten furniture surround the huntress from all sides, a few rays of sunlight barely manage to slip under the wooden boards that have been nailed to the barricaded windows of the room. Shauna's red orbs carefully examine the clear drag marks left against the dirty floorboards of the depressing bedroom, the vigilant Night Hunter's deductive skills already constructing a picture of her unconscious body being dragged against the dusty and creaky wooden planks. The faces of her assailants remain shaded for the time being, mere black holes nesting inside weathered hoods and ceremonious robes that are splattered with fresh crimson.
That will have to do for the time being, the Demacian huntress grudgingly decides as she checks her body for life-threatening wounds, but curiously enough, everything seems fine and there isn't even a new scratch on her fair pale epidermis. Some small notion of relief minutely makes its way into the disoriented aristocrat's gut, red eyes already observing the only door in the room even as purposefully silent steps take Vayne closer to the rusty doorknob. But alas, the rotten wooden planks refuse to cooperate with the Night Hunter's plan and the aged wood creaks, squeals and complains with Shauna's each light footstep. The eerie sounds filling the already tense atmosphere of the gloomy room, dust particles slowly falling from the walls and irritating Vayne's nostrils.
The short time it takes for Shauna to cover the distance to the mysterious door feels like an eternity for the Night Hunter. Each low, creaking sound making the pale noblewoman curse under her breath, itchy ears perked up for the thumping of approaching danger below the gap of the door.
And then abruptly, the distance between the huntress' sanguine glare and the door is less than a sawed-off millimeter and Vayne can actually count all the tiny specks of dust resting upon the ancient looking doorframe. A pale hand reluctantly reaches for the rusty metal hook of the deformed doorknob, but the door is already opening before Shauna has a chance to grasp the handle.
*Creeeeeak* The door slowly swings on its hinges, revealing an empty hallway so dark that even Vayne's nocturnal vision has some trouble distinguishing between the silent black walls and the thick tar of shadows that is drowning the entirety of the narrow corridor in utter darkness. Once more the silence is deafening and makes Vayne's ears heat up and itch as the kidnapped huntress attempts to pick up any signs of life in her new surroundings.
…
The courageous hunter grimaces in annoyance when she fails to identify a whisper or a sudden intake of breath, much less the sounds of incoming foes rushing to attack her. At least the wooden planks underneath her are a bit sturdier there and the pitiful groans of the wood below are being muffled to a degree due to the welcoming addition of a ratty red carpet. The existence of the carpet makes the cogs inside Vayne's head spin. Red was a color that was usually associated with luxury and royalty, so could she perhaps be at a deserted manor owned by a lesser Demacian clan? That would certainly explain the length of the empty corridor since less wealthy families wouldn't be able to afford living in such vast buildings.
Quiet steps mutedly follow the scratched tongue of the dusty red carpet, maroon-colored orbs hurling hostility at every wall, every locked door and hastily boarded window. Peeking through the gaps between the pathetic barricades against the outside world, Vayne can only get a glimpse of blanketing mist, falling ash and the exterior of other buildings packed closely together like thirsty animals huddling along the edge of a dried-up riverbank. The architecture of those simple grey blocks of concrete is another thing that unwittingly registers in the mind of the lost huntress. Demacians tended to use wood, stone, marble and occasionally bricks as their preferred building materials and the appeal of grey concrete was usually associated with the communities of Zaun and Piltover. And yet the perplexed huntress was fairly certain that a Piltovian or Zaunite mansion would have strange devices riddling their walls and hex-crystals hanging from the ceiling.
And yet there was no abundance of steam pipes running along the dark corridor, or valves, switches and power buttons apparent a stone's throw away from her, as far as Vayne knew at the very least. And the sirens? That infernal buzzing was still present even now, no doubt warning the people on the streets of- of something important, most likely. Perhaps the men that had brought her here were Zaunite scientists interested in her vampiric nature, perhaps the manor was devoid of artificial light in order to just look abandoned to outsiders.
Perhaps the screeching of metal coming from the simple door at her right was also an indication that she should pay more attention to her surroundings and less at the grim machinations of her own dark musings.
A pale hand hesitates for only a moment, before Vayne quietly twists the dented ball of the scratched doorknob and opens the door just enough for her to take a quick peek inside. But merely not even four seconds later, Shauna quietly closes the door once more and tiptoes further into the dark corridor. Vayne's wide pair of maroon-colored orbs still rapidly blinking even as the pale huntress' long confident strides soon turn into a slow jog and then to wild, frantic running.
There was some kind of demon in the building with her! A muscular man wearing a butcher's apron and a sinister helmet in the form of a sharp bloodstained pyramid. The ghastly demon was wielding a giant kitchen knife, big enough to put Tryndamere's sword to shame and had just used his enormous sword to murder two other mannequin monsters in cold blood, for seemingly no other reason than that of his sick amusement.
After finally spotting the stairwell and a way out of the macabre hellhole she had suddenly woken up in, Vayne all but lunges down the stairs whilst violently shoving a stumbling mannequin monster away with her shoulder in the process. The haunting moans of the recovering angry monster and the scrapping of a heavy blade at her heels accompanying Shauna as the Night Hunter hurriedly exits the building with a heaving chest. Only for Vayne to find herself in a nondescript road that was shrouded in thick mist with various ominous figures blindly stumbling inside the white blanket covering the town.
"Where the hell is this place?" Vayne quietly mutters, red eyes fruitlessly scanning the lifeless exteriors of the sleeping concrete giants for a blind beggar or a city guard, or a traveler. For any sign of normalcy, really, and utterly failing completely.
"Gaaah!" The Night Hunter screams whilst clutching her throbbing head in her palms as white letters suddenly dance before her blurry eyesight. "Silent Hill? What's that?" Vayne grunts as the pain quickly intensifies. Gory images, red symbols and visions of sheer terror now assaulting Shauna's mind and forcing the courageous huntress on her knees. Through the tears and the intense pain that is presently obscuring most of her vision, Vayne abruptly notices that there is a smirking gray-haired elderly woman that's standing right in front of her.
"Alessa…" The gray-haired hag slowly drawls with glee in her evil, faded blue glare. "I am so glad that you came back to us, Silent Hill isn't the same without suitable sacrifices. Even if I do find your current incarnation.. disgusting, in all honesty. Nevertheless, you will still birth our god, my child."
"W-wha-?" Vayne tries to whisper in a weak pained tone, but then another flare of white hot pain nearly immolates her brain causing Shauna to pass out at the sight of the smiling cultist.
Notes: Sometimes I like watching Silent Hill lore videos and I get drawn into the SH universe with its dark references and deep psychological/supernatural explanations. This Oneshot could have been so much better if I had the time to plan it beforehand and work out the kinks. I could have introduced the mannequin enemies before the Pyramid Head encounter, drop a few more SH hints across the lines to smoothen the revelations, maybe replaced Pyramid Head with the dark Tryndamere skin and Dahlia with LeBlanc, or have Lb watch Vayne flee the building with a cruel smirk pointing to her being the one to bring Vayne there. I could have explained better that Vayne is the next reincarnation of Alyssa and Cheryl and how she had been brought to Silent Hill through the chasm of reality or a horrible event. Unfortunately I don't have the time to write anything, but small snippets nowadays and so I wrote this one on the fly.