Coming Home

Author's Note: Recently, some reviewers have asked about rumors of continuation of my 'Your Dark God' fic.

I'm here to set the record straight.

I DO plan to continue the fic, once 'Coming Home' is finished entirely. I'm also in the process of moving, so updates may be a little strange from this point on. But have faith in me!

Chapter 3


"BE CAREFUL WITH THIS ONE."

An abrupt sound of displeasure.

"DON'T WASTE YOUR TIME TELLING ME THINGS I ALREADY KNOW."

The first voice chuckled darkly.

"ALL RIGHT. REMEMBER, THOUGH. YOU'RE THE ONLY ONE THAT CAN BREAK HIM. HOPEFULLY THERE WON'T BE ANY PIECES TO PICK UP."

A chuckle answered the first.

"SO CONCEITED. AS IF YOU HAVE NO INTEREST IN HIM."

Another laugh, and the slide of a body.

"NOW WHO IS CONCEITED? THE ONLY REASON I AM INTERESTED, IS BECAUSE THE 'GREAT RED PYRAMID' IS RESTLESS FOR SOMETHING SOFT AND FRAGILE THAT HAS WANDERED INTO OUR HELL, OUR RUBY PARADISE." A momentary pause. "ALL I WANT TO DO…IS SEE IF THIS ONE IS WORTH THE TROUBLE."


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


The only times that James stopped was to refill the gas tank, use a rest stop, or replenish his car with food and drink. He didn't admire the scenery, the entire drive accompanied by the few radio stations that managed to broadcast through the high hills and winding roads.

Rest stops became scarce as he drove in the direction of Silent Hill. Luckily, he had only needed to look at the map once to make sure that he was heading down the correct road. There were so many back roads connected to the main highway, James had worried that he would somehow end up going down the wrong one.

He had drove for almost twenty-four hours straight. Finally, James admitted the inevitable, and pulled down a narrow side road and into a secluded, well-hidden rest stop with thick droves of trees shielded behind a long hill.

No cars could be seen in the desolate parking lot. The building was old and white paint faded, the small area allowing only a few vehicles to rest. James pulled the car into the farthest parking place from the restrooms.

Turning the ignition key, James allowed himself to relax as the car stuttered to a halting stop. He was exhausted, barely able to stay awake even with the few cans of soda he had managed to choke down. The few packages of snack foods did not interest his appetite.

Tucking the keys into his pant pocket, James got out of the car, wrestled with the car seat, pulling it forward and quickly into the backseat. He reached past the folded front seat, slamming and locking the car door.

The long backseat was surprisingly comfortable, wide enough that he wasn't at any risk of falling off and onto the floor of the car. He was confident that he could manage several hours of sleep, since he desperately needed to rest. A close encounter with a oncoming truck occurred only hours ago, when he accidentally veered into the opposite lane.

He lay down on his side, using his arm as a pillow. A long yawn trickled free, jaw cracking from the aching stretch.

Silent Hill was still a long way's away. There was at least ten hours of more driving. He would probably reach the town later that night, most likely when it was completely dark out.

He checked his watch, making sure that his assessment was correct. The time reflected back at him through his digital watch in bold black font. 10:33 AM.

James remembered to phone his father several times during the trip, frequently enough that he opted to tuck the phone into the breast pocket of his jacket. He made sure to remember to recharge the batteries once already, thankful that he had listened to Frank years back. His father had insisted that it was a good idea to have a portable battery in his car, just in case James needed to recharge his phone during an emergency.

There had been nothing new to say to his father. By some odd blessing, during the trip no more strange occurrences or episodes had erupted around him. James was thankful for that, glad that nothing had happened while he had been in the gas stations or anywhere else where other people had been around him.

His thoughts wandered; and somewhere mid-way through his rambling pensiveness, James fell into a heavy sleep.

It was a dreamless lullaby; a symphony of colors, and no faces or sound, appeared to shatter it. Haze of shifting crimsons, blues, and obsidian.

For a brief, sharp moment, James felt himself rise up from the farthest corner of sleep, feeling his body shift unconsciously into a more comfortable position.

What caught his attention, however, was when a firm weight along his waist, pulled him back until he was nestled deeply within the seat.

While he slumbered, a slight frown settled across his lips. Unsure and wondering if his mind was perhaps playing tricks on him, James shifted again, pushing his body forward -- Only to be jerked back with a more resolute tug.

Now he was fully awake, but his body struggled slowly, trying to catch up with the frantic signals coming from his brain, dimly registering the 'Holy Shit!' blasts of panic that were firing across his synapses.

Even if it was a waste of air, James opened his mouth to scream, but was stunned when a solid hand clamped over his lips -- partially muffling his cry of protest.

Eyes fully open and less blurry, James began to scream frantically against the hand that had materialized to cover his mouth.

The appendage was connected to a long strong arm, the elbow region fused into the leather of the seat as if it had been there all along. Muscles corded and rippled underneath the tight skin, flesh along the arm and hand a sickly, pasty white with raised scars. James could make out, on the arm wrapped around his waist, the almost three-inch sharp black nails that adorned the tip of each finger.

**RIIIIP**

**RIIIIP**

**RIIIIP**

Managing to jerk his head up enough, James watched in horror as more hands and arms literally shoved their way through the seat, sliding through the leather without physically ripping it. The sound, though, of the hands pushing through the thick seat sounded like hands ripping through flesh.

James screamed wordlessly as several hands and arms caught his flailing legs, levering, holding him down. Dimly he could hear the familiar ripping sounds as more hands rose to arrest his twisting body. Several gripped his thighs and hips, grabbing handfuls of the jean fabric. More hands snagged the jacket and bunched tight wads of his shirt.

All of that, as horrible and traumatizing as it was…none of it came close to matching what came next.

It was reminiscent to the body pressing up against the mattress. This time, though, the long lines of a body…was forming and crowding along his back, through the material of the seat.

James whimpered against the hand, sensing the wider shoulders and hips as they flowed against his, through the leather of the seat. Hands desperately grappled with the hand over his mouth and the ones holding the waistband of his pants.

'No.' He moaned silently. 'It keeps getting worse. Now…now I can see and be touched by them even further.'

**RIIIIP**

**RIIIIP**

Two more hands and arms shoved through the seat, these two completely different from the rest of the appendages and limbs holding James down. One arm came up near his head, the other dangerously close to his hip. The arms were thicker, and a darker, flesh that actually appeared alive. Old thin scars traced along the forearms, leading up to latex glove covered hands. Muscles and tendons under the skin bunched and moved more fluidly then the rigid twitch of the other limbs grasping James.

The paler hand that was covering his mouth suddenly pulled away, giving James the chance to draw in a deep swallow of air. Preparing to let loose another scream proved moot as the latex hand replaced the previous one, the longer and wider hand easily covering his mouth and lower jaw.

James bucked as the other latex hand rose above his waist, fingers fall to rest underneath his navel. The hand twitched the material of his shirt just enough for the fabric to slid up, baring his midriff.

James' eyes rolled back, feeling the hand begin a slow up and down motion along the bare skin. Tracing the lines of his pale skin, fingers and hand nestling underneath his shirt like a large spider.

The graze of fingers made a dark part of him wanted to arch into it, but his mind screamed against the foreign, decidedly male touch. This was all wrong -- on so many levels. He was being…attacked and…molested by these things…

His eyes slammed shut when the hands gripping his thighs pulled, causing hips to spread wider. He cringed every time the larger hand slid down, closer to his waistband and to the sensitive area between his thighs.

His head twitched while the hand along his mouth shifted, thumb reaching and tracing upper and lower lip. James whimpered against the searching caress, kicking futilely underneath the many hands and limbs. "Please. No. No, no." James begged, the fingers falling over his lips to silence him. He gulped raggedly as the hand shifted, slipping down, outlining the arch of his throat and the slight bob of his adam's apple.

"Please. Please--" James jumped when the firm bulk of a body against his back pushed even closer, until he could almost feel the other one's collar and where shoulder connected to the neck. "Please. Don't do this."

All of the hands, in one single moment, ceased moving. Still gripping him, but frozen as solid as a statue.

A brief spark of relief filled him.

Until all hands pulled downwards at once.

Just as they had pushed the way through the leather, the black substance melted around hands and limbs without tearing. And James was now falling through the leather, being pulled down into the realm that the hands had originally risen from.

It was too fast; all at once. Pooling around him, thick as tar, melting around James in order to swallow him down whole. His legs disappeared first, and James able to make out the sensation of the limbs numbing as he was buried alive.

The ceiling of the car was rising, moving further and further away from James. He screamed monotonously, clawing at the hands keeping him prisoner. "NO! I don't want this! Let me go! Let me go!" Screaming was the only way that he seemed to display any resistance.

As if it was that simple, the hands suddenly released him entirely. All at once -- without any warning.

James nearly exploded out of the seat, with enough force that he tumbled, crashing onto the floor of the car. He twisted desperately, running his hands along his body, unable to believe that he was free.

Jerking up and looking back at the seat, he wasn't surprised to find that there was no damage or permanent marks left on the upholstery from the innumerable hands.

With body so weak, physically and mentally from the ordeal; all James could do was collapse all the way onto the floor, head falling back to stare sluggishly up at the ceiling of the car.

Weakly, James groped half-heartedly for his breast pocket. His hands were shaking while he tried to grab his cellphone in order to call Frank. He had been wrong in his assessment; the attacks were only getting worse. Fuck it. He was ready to forget about Silent Hill, forget about everything, all so that he could turn the car right around and go home.

After more searching, James sat up, looking into his empty pockets with incredulity. The cellphone had been right there! Right in that pocket.

Where did it go?


"DID YOU GET IT?"

"OF COURSE. UNLIKE YOU, VALTIEL, THE OTHER WORLD HAS LITTLE BARRIERS THAT CAN RESIST ME."

"NOTHING IS HOLDING ME BACK, OLD ALLY. ONLY MY LACK OF MOTIVATION."

A latex hand rose to reveal the item that it held. The small cellphone looked remarkably fragile within the wide palm. The other one leaned over to peer closely at the foreign object. He twitched away from the electronic device, retreated as if offended by its presence.

"ALL THAT EFFORT, JUST FOR THAT HUNK OF PLASTIC AND METAL?"

"COME NOW, VALTIEL. USE YOUR IMAGINATION. WITHOUT THIS, JAMES WILL HAVE NO WAY TO ESTABLISH CONTACT WITH THE OUTSIDE WORLD."

The hand closed and squeezed tight around the fragile piece of machinery, clenching until the crunch and crack of plastic and metal ceased. Valtiel watched with private amusement as the hand opened to allow the crumbled remains of the item to shower to the ground.

"ALL THAT EFFORT, VALTIEL, IS IN ORDER TO SPEED ALONG THE INEVITABLE."


James hands didn't stop shaking even when he decided to give up and finally pull over into an old deteriorating motel. He was tired beyond description and hungry, becoming increasingly uncomfortable from the light layer of sweat that had settled across his skin from being in the car for so long.

James forked over a ridiculous amount of money, just to stay in one room. He didn't argue, though, merely accepted the motel key with a quiet 'thank you'. The haggard old man behind the counter simply grunted before turning back to his deck of worn cards spread out along the counter.

The room was pathetic, at best. Bed and sheets were relatively clean, but slightly musty. The carpet was worn so thin that James worried about it tearing underneath his feet. A single nightstand and lamp were the only other accentuation in the main part of the room.

Checking under the bed, James was relieved to find the mattress and bed frame resting on top of a thick block of wood, the sides boarded up with heavy planks. He tossed the suitcase at the foot of the bed, since there was no closet space to shove it in.

Over the next hour, James ventured outside and into the remote town, scrounging around and finding a payphone in order to call Frank. He wasn't foolish enough to tell his dad about what had occurred at the rest stop, and he didn't mention the missing cellphone. James spent several minutes assuring his father that he was okay, huddling inside the glass telephone booth from the chilly wind.

After hanging up, James looked around until he found a small diner. The food was actually decent and not horrendously expensive. He felt better having something warm to eat, his stomach and body feeling marginally replenished.

Back in the motel room, James checked the door and two windows to make sure that they were locked. He drew the curtains together, wanting as much privacy as possible.

He began to practically rip his clothing off, tossing his jacket onto the bed while he bustled through the suitcase in search for fresh clothing. Dressed only in his jeans, James carried clean garments into the bathroom, laying them on the counter.

The bathroom was a moderate size. Like most hotels, there was a small sink, counter, and a large mirror over the cracked porcelain. The toilet was a pale mauve, the floors faded white. A long white curtain hung along the rail over the shower, fitted into the farthest corner from the sink; leaving James with enough room to shift around in the confined space, and able to reach the towels and soap. Other than the pathetic state of the tile and appliances, the room was clean enough.

Closing the door behind him, he turned the shower handle, and finished undressing while waiting for the water to heat to a comfortable level. He shivered from the cool air in the room, hastily getting into the shower and swung the curtain closed.

James spent several minutes allowing the warm water to run over the back of his neck and shoulders, the steam and heat soothing tired aching muscles. He lathered the bar of soap between his hands, rubbing the foam across his body to wipe away the grit and sweat.

The steady hiss of the falling water created a white noise in his head, providing James with an anchor to focus on other than his maddening thoughts. His travel size container of shampoo was used vigorously, massaging it in deep, then pushing face and head into the stream of water to wash it all away.

Finally the water grew chilly, forcing James to turn off the shower and get out. He dried himself off and dressed quickly in another t-shirt and undergarments, sliding the same pair of jeans on. Opening his toiletry case, James pulled out brush and toothpaste. Briefly, his eyes flickered up to the mirror, unable to see his reflection due to the moisture from the steam. Lowering his gaze, James brushed meticulously, filling his mouth with taste of mint toothpaste.

Done, he spat out the toothpaste, running the faucet and cupping a mouthful of water. He rinsed his mouth, spitting again to relieve his tongue of the mint aftertaste. Using the dry corner of a towel to wipe his mouth, James' head rose, level with the mirror again.

Three words were stenciled through the moisture along the glass, allowing portions of James' face to reflect back at him.

NOT LONG NOW

He didn't waste time contemplating what the message meant. Tearing the door open, James rushed from the small room. Frantically he shoved all of his other clothing into the suitcase. His jacket was hastily tugged on, sitting down on the bed to pull on socks and shoes.

In the middle of pushing his feet into his boots, James caught the sound of something clicking and scrabbling along the walls.

Head jerking, James' eyes darted around the room to find where the sound was coming from. The noise continued, and James realized that the sounds originated on the opposite walls, outside of the room.

The scrabbling noise was nothing a normal human could make. They traveled rapidly up and down the walls, and across the ceiling. Too fast to follow the entire trek.

It was maddening. There were so many of them. The windows and door banged sharply when bodies scrabbled across their surface. James could make out the clawing of long nails and digging fingers as hands dug fiercely in an attempt to break through the walls.

Based on the position of James' motel room, there were other rooms on each side of his. Somehow, those things had found their way into numerous rooms. 'Oh God.' James panicked, realizing that he had possibly put other people at great risk. 'They're in the other motel rooms.'

What if there were other people in those rooms? Those…things might actually attack them! And probably easily kill someone. There was a big chance that they would attack anyone that happened to mistakenly intercede in their efforts to get to James.

Why? Why now? He already knew that these things continued to hunt him. Why did they persist so much?

James had to go. Now.

Lacing the shoelaces seemed to take forever. His fingers kept losing their grip, trembling so badly as the walls groaned under the weight of so many bodies. Once done, James made sure he had everything and bolted for the door. Pulling it open, he was greeted with the fading twilight as the sun began to steadily fall behind the distant hills.

He somewhat expected someone or something to be waiting right outside the door for him, but thankfully found no such thing. The motel room door was slammed shut behind him, and James ran along the path to his car. His suitcase was tossed again into the trunk, and he quickly headed for the motel head office.

The old man from before was visibly surprised when James nearly threw the room keys at him; the younger man not sticking around for any conversation and bolting out of the room.

Getting into the car and pulling on his seatbelt, James started up the vehicle and pulled out onto the main road.

He was still hours away from Silent Hill. But he couldn't stay here. The closer he got, the more the freak incidents occurred. And the more that occurred, the more people around James were at risk.

'Not for me.' James promised. 'I won't let anyone get hurt because of me.'


Daylight fell into night several hours later. Wall upon wall of fog began to spread up and down the long winding roads. The sinking sun disappeared behind the cloaking gray mass, vanishing with a last, wane flicker of light.

The silence within the car was uncomfortable. Without taking his eyes off the road, James reached a hand to the radio and turned the dial. There were very few radio stations active, but he got lucky with one that was composed entirely of instrumental music.

He had to slow down a little, down to thirty miles per hour; the fog was becoming so thick that James was having a rough time making out the painted lines of the road. No other cars passed him, as far as he was aware.

'So, what will come next?' James wondered as he drove. 'It's obvious that the closer I get to Silent Hill, the worse things become. What kind of power does that town have? Is it even the town that is responsible for this?'

The lettering on the mirror, back at the hotel, flickered across his mind for a brief second.

NOT LONG NOW

Again, there had been no one else in the room. He had been right there, the mirror barely six inches from his face.

The question was…what was coming? What was he not that far from?

Did he want to know?

Honestly? No. But, James couldn't keep running from this. No matter how far or close he was to Silent Hill, these things would not relent in their chase. The incident in the motel had opened his eyes. James had been a fool to assume that he was the only one suffering from all of the events. If he weren't careful, he would be putting a lot of people in danger if he tried simply ignoring what was occurring around him.

It killed him on the inside, though, to leave his father behind and in the dark. Frank wanted so badly to help James, but this was something that James needed to face. James knew that he couldn't live with himself if something happened to Frank, especially if it was something that he could have prevented.

'Hopefully, things will change. Maybe all of the fear and confusion will fade away.' He hoped that was the case.

Several minutes later, the music on the radio station changed to something a little more upbeat. However, the music started to fade, and static crackled with warning across the station.

James messed with the dial, not surprised that the hills were cutting out the radio signal.

Only, the other radio stations that had been running as well failed to break through the static. If anything, the static grew sharper, wiping out the music and voices that attempted to break through the clicks and crackling.

Finding that he was out of luck with every stations, James decided it would be best to simply turn the radio off--

Except that when he had turned the dial with the arrow pointing directly at 'OFF', the radio still continued to run, the static remaining and hissing with a vengeance.

'Was the entire system broken?'

It continued to refuse shutting off, even when James was dangerously close to breaking the dial as he tried to silence it.

The radio's digital screen flickered into a solid bright blue haze. Dismally, James recalled the same fluorescent shade when his cellphone had acted up back at his father's house.

Static stuttered and garbled. Solid, well-formed words spoke loudly across the connection.

"NOT LONG NOW."

"Jesus Christ." James gasped, snatching his hand back as if it had been physically burned.

His gaze flickered back to the road and to the radio, watching it warily. The headlights of the car were barely cutting through the fog. James could barely see a few feet in front of him.

The radio released a shrill shriek, a metallic scream that made James wince.

"Look outside, James. Look outside your window." The voice commanded.

…No way…

They couldn't possibly mean…

Certainly, nothing was 'outside' in front of the car as he drove.

He didn't want to. James tried to stop himself, but his gaze shifted enough to the side to allow him to peer outside the driver side's window.

It was dark enough outside, that it looked thick enough to cut with a knife. A flicker of movement within the darkness, luminous pale skin shining like streaking fish, slid up from the murkiness. Trees and bushes stood silent, a thick wall along the sides of the road. They didn't mask the forms winding their way through the labyrinth of darkness, trees, and bushes.

There was something out there. No, more than just something. A lot of them.

"…Oh my god…" He whispered.

Tall humanoid figures, lean and fit forms ran along the road, disappearing and reappearing from behind tall shrubs and trees. Pale as ghosts, but obviously solid due to the dirt and leaves their running feet kicked up from the ground. The forms were naked but appeared sexless, moving fluidly that it was near impossible to make out any features save for the large hands with black sharp black nails at the tip of each finger.

Jerking to peer out of the passenger side's door, James saw a similar scene, more figures loping to easily match the speed of the car. Arms and legs pumping smoothly as the humanoids ran with the speeding vehicle. They easily leapt and circled boulders and trees that appeared in their path, raking long nails along the bark of tall trees as they went.

They made almost no sound, rustling leaves and puffs of dirt the only visible disturbance left behind to mark their path. Their breathing was heavy and long, running as efficiently as a well-oiled machine. Wasting no extra effort during their progress of trailing the car.

There had to be at least ten running figures on each side of the car. Close enough to the car, with the road being so narrow, that James thought he could reach an arm out and touch one.

The figures' faces shifted and rippled unceasingly, eye sockets empty expect for small pinpoints of light that shone like cat eyes, flickering towards the direction of the moving car.

When James' gaze met one of the closer figures, its face morphed and a mouth spread wide open in a leer of glee. Sharp gray teeth glistened through thin blue lips, a black moist tongue shown as the beast opened its mouth in a silent howl directed at the moving car.

"…Oh..god…" James tore his sight away from the beast.

They continued to follow James for several miles, moving in unison with one another, a pack, every action mirrored.

To James' surprise, each of the beasts' heads jerked up and peered up ahead. They came to a screeching stop, planting their feet hard across the ground. The rough sliding halt would have torn a layer of flesh from the bottom of the soles if they had been human.

The car tore past the resting forms. James turned back to the road, frowning when seeing only another wall of fog. He still could only see a few feet in front of the car.

The radio screamed and static shuddered.

"JAMES! STOP RIGHT NOW!" The voices rose in unison.

'What…?'

Directly up ahead, coming towards him fast, a set of solid sealed metal gates appeared suddenly out of the fog. A long series of linked chains curled up where the gates met and were sealed by lock and key, padlocked tight and reinforced. There wasn't any time to jerk the wheel in hopes of avoiding to oncoming collision.

"SHIT!!" James cursed, slamming on the brakes.

It didn't do any good.

Tires attempted to grip the asphalt, but the road had become damp from the fog. The tires slid and grappled to gain purchase, the shriek of rubber and working brakes an orchestra of destruction that engulfed James.

"JAMES!"

James braced for impact as best as he could as the front of the car smashed head-on into the metal gates.

The force of the collision threw James forward into the wheel just as the air bag burst open, breaking his fall and preventing James' ribs from snapping. His forehead banged sharply into the edge of the steering wheel, and stars sparked liberally across his eyes. His seatbelt caught his momentum, jerking him back into his seat, and the back and side of James' head cracked into the door.

The front of the car crumbled inward towards the interior of the car, as if a large hand was crushing it like a paper cup, engine crumpling beyond hope of salvaging. Headlights blew and glass shattered across the road, spider web cracks rippling across all of the windows. The metal gates groaned loudly from the impact, bending partially inward, bars warping and twisting, but the sealed gates remained otherwise stationary.

The taillights shone forlornly among the fog and shadows, the front of the car crumpled, smashed almost flat against the solid gates. A steady flow of gasoline and other automobile fluids seeped out from underneath the damaged car.

James was unaware of any of these. He lay unconscious between the door and seat, arms falling limp at his side. A thick streak of crimson shone along the inside of the cracked window. The radio's screen was dark, inactive and busted from the blunt impact.

Figures rushed out of the fog, the humanoid forms that had run alongside James car. They leapt upon the car, on hands and knees, scrambling over the hood, roof, and trunk. Hands dug into the damaged portions of the car, pulling and twisting in efforts to tear the hunk of metal apart.

The driver side door was locked from the inside. One of the creature's hands traced the patch of glass where James' blood glistened within the interior. Trying to pull at the door's handle only caused it to snap and break completely off. The broken handle was thrown away in disgust.

There were twenty, almost thirty forms running and scrabbling over the car. Pulling off shreds of tires, ripping the trunk door off, fierce in their effort the break inside the shattered vehicle. One creature leaned over the roof of the car, fingers digging into the space between the roof and car door. Another, the same that had run its hand along the window, grappled with the side of the door. Metal screeched and rippled as fingers curled hard and began to thrust back and forth, beginning to tear the door off its hinges.

Other beasts hissed in warning, lifting hands and feet to avoid the pool of gasoline that was beginning to swamp and collect under the car.

It took almost an entire minute before the two manhandling the door howled in victory. The one on the roof physically lifted the door from its broken hinges, hurling the metal to the side. Several beasts had to scramble out of the way when the door slammed onto the pavement, close to where they had been crouched.

The closest figure at the opening caught James as his body dropped from the support that the door had provided. The figure struggled with the seatbelt that held James firmly within the seat. As a last resort, the belt was ripped completely off, and James was carefully pulled out of the seat and from the wrecked car.

James moaned softly in pain, head nestled in the crook of a neck. Blood trickled slowly from a long cut on his temple. Several small knots upon his head marked where his skull had suffered from the accident.

He was pulled away from the car, out of the reach of the gasoline. The car rocked and jolted as the figures leapt off the damaged vehicle, several approaching to support the man's limbs, their hands ran up and down James' legs and torso, checking for any trauma.

The questing hands stopped when the sealed gates rattled and shifted sharply. Several looked up, watching as a figure climbed smoothly up the gates from the inside of the barred path, and easily scaled the top. They leaped backwards as the larger figure dropped to land on the roof of the car, the top imploding from the weight of the falling body.

The many that surrounded the car bowed their heads in submission and service in the presence of the newcomer.

A soundless greeting from all present, filled with awe and fear.

"…Valtiel…"

Valtiel, wider in the shoulders and taller than all others, was obviously the dominant one of the entire pack. Thick corded arms were bare, the armless butcher apron sewn down the back all the way to his calves with heavy boots. Latex gloves covered wide palms and strong fingers. His face had no apparent mouth or eyes, as if a thick layer of flesh was stretched across his facial features. Valtiel's entire face and head twitched and jerked hard, left and right as he surveyed the mass of creatures around him. His shoulders hunched low as he fell into a crouch, leaning dangerously close to any nearby, until they fell back in terror.

With a level gait he was immediately across the road, head bobbing and hands flexing spasmodically. Those around James quickly moved out of his path, knowing better than to stumble in his way.

Valtiel leaned over James' prone unconscious form, easily surpassing him in height by at least six inches. His face hovered over James', tilting, appearing to assess the man.

A hand closed over James' throat, squeezing with one sharp clench of fingers. The others around Valtiel moaned aloud in dismay, fearing that Valtiel had decided to kill the man.

James choked softly under the tight grip, head falling to the side from being rocked by Valtiel's hand. Valtiel's other hand slid up to grab the back of James' skull, in a position that would allow him to easily snap the man's neck if he was wont to do.

A flicker of consciousness, and James rose momentarily out of the pain, laid out upon rough asphalt, swallowing painfully around a hard collar of flesh around his throat. Eyes flicked open, dull blue irises staring up at a warped mask above him.

Something inside of James gave him the strength to raise a weak and shaking limb. His hand reached up, fingers cupping one side of the face above. The figure startled back from the contact, but did not move away from James' hand. He could dimly feel the presence of a sharp cheekbone and the corner of eye sockets through the thick pad of flesh covering the face.

A wet cough and James drew in a deep breath. "You…you hide your face." He said, so soft that he was barely audible. "How…sad and lonely."

He winced as the hand around his throat tightened hard in warning.

James didn't need to suffer through the agony. Just as he had risen out from unconsciousness, he tumbled as quickly back into it. Eyes falling shut, hand slipping from the other's face to fall across his chest.

Valtiel felt the man collapse back once again into unconsciousness. It would be so simple to keep squeezing until vertebra snapped like twigs. But, there lay a fallacy. He could find no reason to kill James. He was remotely intriguing, even though presumptuous. As if he knew Valtiel.

No more time needed to be wasted. Effortlessly, Valtiel rose, and tossed James over one shoulder. His hand gripped the back of James' waistband, preventing the man from sliding off.

Ignoring the others around him, Valtiel leapt easily across the distance and onto the roof of the car, causing it to bend downward again. Another jump and he scaled one-handed up the gate with the human over his shoulder. The two disappeared over the top of the gate, toppling down into the enclosed path that led into Silent Hill.

The other beasts moved restlessly, trying to decide what to do next. Uncertain and becoming increasingly frustrated by the lack of tasks, they unanimously turned their rage onto the dying car.


TBC