October 22, 2003
Oct. 22nd, 2003 12:42 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
emerald_embersUntitled Silent Hill 2 snippet; Mary and James, suicide, PG.
Untitled
"James..."
I should have stayed at home. I should have continued to look after Laura. I should not have left her at a friend's house to discover later on that her second father has left her. But I rarely do what I'm supposed to.
Silent Hill. I didn't even need to go that far. Just wandered down to the subway one day. I had never been there before. Walk through the empty ticket stalls. Walk past the toilets, ignoring the screams and sobs within, the sound of monsters at work on anyone who did not leave in time.
Walk down the steps, ignoring blood, rust, and mucus as it begins to cover the walls in greater depth. The smell. Carry on walking, James.
And there they are, four of them now, standing at the track edge and looking down, a gap in the center for me.
I step through and look down at the track, my Mary. Sick, coughing blood, tied to the line like an old-fashioned movie heroine.
Smile.
Smile back.
I jump down and untie her, lift her up into my arms, the grime and blood on her smearing against me. Hold her close, keep her warm, keep her safe. Kiss her forehead.
"I love you."
"I love you too."
"I can't live without you."
"I know."
She closes her eyes as if asleep, coughs a few times and relaxes, skin warm with her fever, and we can both hear the tell-tale sound of ringing in the distance. I look up at my four companions and they nod in unison as I turn to face the lights, Mary in my arms and a smile on my face.
Bang.
Distantly, I think I hear the sound of four gore-splattered helmets hitting the floor.
Untitled
"James..."
I should have stayed at home. I should have continued to look after Laura. I should not have left her at a friend's house to discover later on that her second father has left her. But I rarely do what I'm supposed to.
Silent Hill. I didn't even need to go that far. Just wandered down to the subway one day. I had never been there before. Walk through the empty ticket stalls. Walk past the toilets, ignoring the screams and sobs within, the sound of monsters at work on anyone who did not leave in time.
Walk down the steps, ignoring blood, rust, and mucus as it begins to cover the walls in greater depth. The smell. Carry on walking, James.
And there they are, four of them now, standing at the track edge and looking down, a gap in the center for me.
I step through and look down at the track, my Mary. Sick, coughing blood, tied to the line like an old-fashioned movie heroine.
Smile.
Smile back.
I jump down and untie her, lift her up into my arms, the grime and blood on her smearing against me. Hold her close, keep her warm, keep her safe. Kiss her forehead.
"I love you."
"I love you too."
"I can't live without you."
"I know."
She closes her eyes as if asleep, coughs a few times and relaxes, skin warm with her fever, and we can both hear the tell-tale sound of ringing in the distance. I look up at my four companions and they nod in unison as I turn to face the lights, Mary in my arms and a smile on my face.
Bang.
Distantly, I think I hear the sound of four gore-splattered helmets hitting the floor.
