Salva Nos

A/N: Read the first chapter notes...they still apply...Silent Hill is still Konami's...they can keep it. Vincent is still Konami's...I'd rather they didn't keep him. The smut is mine. But no fun alone.

"I know about the pleasures of this world. And I want to find my happiness while I'm still here."
I'll find my happiness dear deluded Claudia. Your vision of God is a world where the weak won't have to stand up for themselves. In my vision of God, the strong are rewarded. You never showed me gratitude after I took Leonard from your life. You don't know what devotion is. And I won't let you have your way.
I won't let you despoil paradise.

*******************************

"Where's Douglas?"
"He went out." Vincent stared at Heather, more battle-stained and bloodied than before, but still so radiant. "He left a message for you."
Heather eyed him warily. "Was there someone here now besides you?"
Vincent let that squiggle of a smirk play across his face. He knew she was talking about Claudia but for a moment he imagined it as venom laced jealousy. That she might be jealous that he would take another woman to his bed. Recovering from his reverie he smoothly replied, "No, no...just me. Don't you want to know what the message is?"
"Yeah what did he say?"
"'The church is on the other side of the lake.'"
***The church is a building of stone and brick and wood and meaningless meaninglessmeaningless material. The temple is here...here is where I worship***
"Church? I wonder what he meant by that."
"You don't understand?" He took a step forward, narrowing the space between them. Heather palmed her trusty pipe and backed towards the center of the room, trying to put space between herself and this unusual man.
"That's where Claudia is."
Another step.
"Across the lake, on the north side."
Step.
"If you're going to go you'd better go through the amusement park."
Step. Heather backed into the bed and sat down hard, the pipe thudding on the ugly shag carpet floor of the hotel room.
"It's probably the only way in now. Go northwest on Nathan Avenue."
He stood before her and then leaned down placing his hands flat on the bed on either side of her so he could lean in close to her face, his nose almost touching hers.
"It's a bit far...." he mumbled the words as he ran his tongue over his lips.... "But closer than heaven."
***So wrong...***
He kissed her again, firmly but not violently as he had last time. He wanted this delicious contact to last. Overcoming her with his size and leverage, Vincent pressed Heather back into the bed, covering her body with his. She smelled of sweat and blood and tears and she was delicious. So delicious.
Heather was lost. Her father was gone. Douglas was gone. Everything gone...gone....but Vincent was here. Vincent was REAL. Her tongue twined lasciviously with his. Nothing mattered but this was contact...this was something...something tangible. Something that wasn't leaving her.
His hands slid up the denim vest and he ran his fingers over her breasts, across the sensitive undersides, lightly over her nipples which elicited a moan from the shell beneath him. He ran his serpentine tongue down her neck tasting the sweat and dirt that had accumulated on her. Still delicious...his fingers began to deftly undo the buttons of her vest one by one, exposing more flesh to be traced and marked with his heat and saliva. Too impatient to bother with the bottom buttons he pulled the vest open and pressed his to to one taut nipple first nipping then suckling. Repeat. Then the other side nipping and sucking.
***Grant me your blessing...***
She was moaning incoherent words, one hand on the back of his head violently tangled in his hair, determined to insure that his mouth continued its ministrations. Her other hand splayed blindly over his back and down to his buttocks....then round between them and she struggled for the fastener to his trousers.
Vincent growled and bit hard on one of her nipples, eliciting something between a groan and a whimper from her. Her searching hand had slipped into his pants where it now twined around his engorged cock. The tip of her thumb rubbed over the head while her hand slowly worked the shaft. Moving...moving. He knew bliss.
He shifted suddenly his pants around his knees, his hands wrestling with Heather's skirt. His weak knees quickly gave out and he collapsed heavily on top of her, her offending and infernal panties alat lat lay between them. He slid a hand between them and pressed the tip to the moist spot that had collected on the fabric shee ane and he hungrily rocked forward. Her legs came up around his, meeting him hungrily lunge for lunge as they mimicked the act he so desperately longed for.
And suddenly he stopped. No. This was not right. He would not take this perfect creature here in a ramshackle motel as if she were a two dollar whore from Heaven's Night. Not yet.
Regaining his composure he stood and quickly refixed the closure on his trousers. Heather's face was a mask of bewilderment as she stood and quickly refastened her vest and pulled her skirt back down to its normal length. She stared at Vincent, unable to rectify what she had done yet unable to condemn it either. Silent Hill had offered her so little comfort. Save this.
"So...." Heather began uncomfortably. "Is that it for the message?"
"Uh huh." It was all Vincent could manage as he quickly rebuilt his facade and smirked wickedly at her as she started for the door.
"Thanks." She paused then and turned to him. "Douglas really said that?"
He smiled wickedly his eyes drifting back to the bed they had lain on moments before. "What's wrong, don't you trust me?"
She gave him one final appraising look before stepping outside into the misty fog that enveloped her.
***It swallows her as I would swallow her. As she would swallow me. As we would consume each other....***