HEATHER POTTER AND THE LEGACY OF ALESSA

CHAPTER 2:

AN UNHAPPY REUNION

So, monsters were populating the mall, and not just those things with the big club-like paws. Dogs with bifurcated heads and wrapped in purulent bandages, twitching pale human-like creatures that crawled along the ground…the stuff of nightmares. Namely, her own. Heather was almost surprised at how readily she accepted that. But then again, being in the magical world, as well as the friend of Luna Lovegood, tended to erode expectations of normality. And her memories as Alessa and Cheryl helped, anyway.

So, she mused to herself. Either the entity within me is waking up, or someone has harnessed the power of Silent Hill. Maybe it's both. She considered calling her father to warn her, but the few phones she came across were dead. As dead as she would be, if she didn't hurry.

She made it out the back of a bookshop, when she saw a woman, clad in black, waiting for her. She looked very familiar, with blonde hair and features that could have been regally beautiful, if they hadn't been so unnerving. "Hey, are you all right? Do you know what's going on? Where is everybody? And what are those weird monsters?"

The woman spoke in measured tones, "They've come to witness the Beginning. The rebirth of Paradise, spoiled by mankind."

Oh shit, she's one of the Cultists…Heather thought, before recognition seared through her brain. Give the woman eyebrows, de-age her by a couple of decades and more, and you had…

"…Claudia?"

This threw the woman. She hadn't quite been expecting this. "…You know me? You…remember me?"

"Little Claudia Wolf," Heather said, letting the memories of Alessa come to the fore. One of her few friends at school, and as deeply devoted to their religion as Alessa had been…before her relationship with her mother deteriorated, and she realised what the true nature of the Cult of Silent Hill was. Claudia, in fact, was rather like Luna Lovegood…if Luna Lovegood was a religious fanatic and abused by her father. "My dear, little sister. I do remember."

"…Alessa? Is it really you?"

"That was my name, Claudia," Heather said. She shook her head. "Claudia, what have you done to yourself? I mean, what did you do to your eyebrows?!"

Claudia blinked. "…Excuse me?"

"You mutilated a perfectly good pair of eyebrows. Seriously, I would have killed for ones like yours. Did you shave them off, or did you just have an accident near an open flame?"

Claudia blinked again. "…Alessa, are you mocking me?"

"No, I'm lamenting the loss of your eyebrows." Then, Heather's eyes hardened. "And I think I'm going to be lamenting the loss of a friend. I think I know why you're here, Claudia. If you really want me to bear that god of yours…then we can't be friends anymore."

"But Alessa, it's our God!" Claudia protested. "You said it yourself: the world must be purged with fire. Don't you want happiness for all the people of the world? For suffering to end? We all need God's salvation."

"Suffering's a part of life," Heather retorted. "Anyone who tells you otherwise is selling you something(1). Did my mother make you snort a whole cartful of PTV(2)?"

"Show some respect to your mother, Alessa!" Claudia wailed, less angry than mortified.

"She burnt me alive, Claudia! She set me on fucking fire! Kept me imprisoned in my own body for seven years, refusing to let me die, and be with Cheryl instead of that charred husk! That is not the path of a loving mother. And using me to bring about the end of the world…that's not the path of a friend, Claudia."

Suddenly, Heather's head and abdomen began to throb with pain. Crying out, she sagged to the floor. Claudia came over, and looked down at her, her face full of sorrow. "I am willing to bear your hatred, Alessa, as long as Paradise is brought about. The salvation of mankind can only be obtained when the old world is destroyed. And for that, we need God. You are the one who will lead us to Paradise, with bloodstained hands…" As Heather convulsed, Claudia gently touched Heather's face. "We will meet again soon, my dearest sister." Then, she walked away, Heather barely able to follow her through the blinding pain.

A minute or so later, the pain went away enough for Heather to get, rather unsteadily, to her feet. None of the doors were unlocked, but there was a working elevator. But as she entered, a familiar crackle of static occurred. She remembered her father telling her how he used a radio in Silent Hill to detect monsters. As the elevator descended, a radio dropped from the ceiling.

"Oh, Merlin," she muttered, picking it up. The elevator opened into another one, rusty and bloodied. But she knew the only way out was down now.

Stepping forward, she saw, just beyond the cage, one of the creatures from her dream, the one that had dragged her away even as she lay dying. Valtiel, Alessa's memories whispered into her head.

The creature was attacking another, before taking notice of her. The elevator began to descend, bizarre images appearing as she descended, Valtiel following her by crawling slowly down the inside of the lift shaft. Greetings, Mother of God, slid a rusty voice into her mind.

"Piss off," she retorted. As the elevator continued its descent, she thought, I'd think I was going crazy…if it weren't for my memories as Cheryl and Alessa. Or that this was a bad dream that I couldn't wake up from. Still wish it was, though.


Through the warping and changing shopping mall, Claudia Wolf strolled, troubled. She hadn't expected Alessa's reincarnation to remember who she was. She also hadn't expected Alessa to reject everything they had stood for. Some may have considered it a trick, but Claudia Wolf knew that it was Alessa speaking through the lips of Heather Mason. Which made it hurt all the more. But Claudia also knew that what she needed to do was necessary. It was for the Greater Good. She was willing to sacrifice her friend, her friendship, and even her own immortal soul, all to bring about Paradise.

For a moment, her hand reached up to touch her non-existent eyebrows. A faint scowl touched her face. Of all the things Alessa had said, the thing that had actually hurt her was the remarks about the eyebrows.

She found a rather unwelcome visitor waiting for her by the exit, reading a book casually, even as the shopping centre became darkened and dirtied and bloodied. He could have been considered handsome, had he taken the time to do more than groom his hair and dress in neat clothing. He had stubble on his face, and his eyes, flashing beneath his glasses, rarely seemed to look directly at you. His most frequent expressions were either that of a hurt mentor, or a condescending sneer.

Claudia hated Vincent Smith's guts. A recently ordained priest of the Cult of Silent Hill, she knew he had more of a flippant, iconoclastic view towards the religion, something she despised. The fact that he had helped fund a good chunk of it due to his family fortune also helped fuel her spite towards him.

"So, how fares the expectant mother, hmm?" Vincent asked flippantly.

"Well enough. God is growing within her. However, there is a possible complication."

"Pray, do tell," Vincent asked.

"She has access to her memories as Alessa. And she opposes us anyway," Claudia said.

"Really? Are you sure that it wasn't just canny little Heather doing some psychological warfare on you?"

"Do not mock me, Vincent. If she was merely imitating Alessa, I would know. She spoke things only she and I would know. She even called me by name before I told her it. No, that was Alessa. I know it."

"Well, I'll take your word for it," Vincent said with an amiable shrug, returning to his book, even as they strolled through the Otherworld, out of the mall and down the street. "There is an added complication, though, not just Heather remembering who she is and opposing us."

"What is that?"

"Well, when you told me that there was evidence that Heather had been in Britain for most of her life, I contacted some old friends there. A girl answering to the description of Heather Mason is quite well known there, and when I showed them some pictures that the detective took, they knew who she was. Heather Potter. The Girl Who Lived."

"What do you mean?"

"Heather was a celebrity of sorts in Britain. There are hidden colonies of wizards and witches the world over. I've told you this before, but you didn't seem very interested. In fact, I did some research, and found out that Dahlia Gillespie was born from a wizarding family, but she had no magical ability herself. That is someone called a Squib, by the way, whereas you and Heather, because you have some magical ability, are witches. I technically count as a Muggle, a non-wizard born to a non-magical family. But I digress. Heather was adopted by James and Lily Potter, with Lily being a relative of Harry Mason's wife, Jodie. However, Magical Britain was in the middle of a civil war, with a terrorist called Voldemort leading them. He was a fanatical blood purist: think a Nazi, or a member of the Ku Klux Klan, only magical. Anyway, for some reason, probably because they pissed him off, Voldemort targeted the Potters. He used an instant death curse to kill Heather's adopted parents. He then tried to kill Heather. Tell me, did you see a scar on her forehead?"

Claudia frowned, before recalling the jagged, inflamed-looking thing mostly hidden by Alessa's hair. Like a lightning bolt. "I did, actually."

"Well, that scar is the only remnant of the curse hitting her. Nobody knows how it happened, as the only way to avoid getting killed by the curse is to either dodge, or to have something solid between you and it. The most prevalent theory, and one I'd accept, is that one of her parents used some obscure ritual or other to protect her. The truth is, her miraculous survival made her known to the wizards as the Girl Who Lived. However, she disappeared from Magical Britain in 1995, in disgrace, having had her wand snapped and being expelled from Britain's main wizarding school, Hogwarts."

Claudia couldn't help but snort. "What a ridiculous name," she murmured.

"On that, we are definitely agreed, Claudia," Vincent said, smirking. She noted he left unspoken, If nothing else.

"I will go to Mason's apartment and summon a Missionary," Claudia said. "What do you intend to do?"

"Take in the sights. This is really quite fascinating, in a morbid, macabre, Francis Bacon kind of way. The painter, not the philosopher(3)."

Claudia peered at him suspiciously, before dismissing him. If he wanted to get himself killed exploring the dangerous Otherworld, then let him. She had more important work to do…


Vincent was beside himself with glee. He was sure that Heather wouldn't want to go along with Claudia's insane plan. Despite his being high up in the Cult's hierarchy, he was also rather fond of material comforts, and Claudia's plan would ensure that his enjoyment of life would be annihilated.

But to hear that no less than what could be Alessa herself wanted nothing to do with it was cause for celebration. True, it could have been a ruse by Heather, but either way, it didn't matter. The only benefit of Alessa being opposed to Claudia's plans meant that there would be no nasty surprises in terms of allegiance.

There was a business centre not far from Harry Mason's apartment. Vincent really didn't care whether Harry Mason died or not. If anything, it would give Heather the impetus to go after Claudia and assassinate her. He would lie in wait, and watch what Heather did. Perhaps guide her along her way. He could even feel out how genuine her claims to know Alessa's memories were, and see if she truly was opposed to Claudia's plans. Then, he had someone who could help him stop the crazy fanatic. He should be able to get there by car: his own car would hopefully be unaffected by this world. He would just have to make sure he avoided any streets that fell into an abyss. Plus, a few monsters he could run over.

With a macabre chuckle, Vincent jogged away, ready to take his car for a spin. The thought of running over one of those split-headed dogs made him giddy with anticipation, though the thought of derailing Claudia's plans would be even better. Smirking, he thought, Don't die yet, Heather Potter. We have much to talk about, you and I

CHAPTER 2 ANNOTATIONS:

So, the first meeting between Claudia and Heather plays out somewhat differently from canon, though you'll notice that I took dialogue not only from their first meeting, but also one of their last ones, when Heather and Claudia meet in the Church.

Heather's remarks about the eyebrows are actually part of her coping with her suspicions, which are fulfilled, of Claudia acting to make Heather give birth to the demonic god of Silent Hill. She's angry and disappointed, and is using sarcasm and humour as a coping mechanism.

1. I changed Heather's line to resemble a line from The Princess Bride. 'Life is pain, Higness! Anyone who says differently is selling something.'

2. PTV is the name given to the drug mentioned in Silent Hill, derived from the fictional White Claudia plant, and created and distributed by Dahlia and Kaufmann. Given how Claudia acts in Silent Hill 3, I wouldn't be at all surprised if she snorting it by the kilo.

3. There are two Francis Bacons of note. The first was a philosopher and scientist who lived in Elizabethan England. The second was a painter known for creating rather morbid and disturbing pieces, and who was one of the major inspirations for the design of Silent Hill.