Book Of The Path

Disclaimer: I do not Own Silent Hill Konami and Team Silent do. I just wanted to play with the world they made





Disclaimer: I do not Own Silent Hill Konami and Team Silent do. I just wanted to play with the world they made

Title: Book Of The Path.



Author: RaveEchidna



Fandom: Silent Hill 2 with splashes of the other games/ movie.



Paring(s): James/Maria, Pyramid Head(s)/James…too many to list



Warnings: Spoilers, Heterosexual sex, Gay sex, rape, snuff, dubious consent, gore, torture, child abuse, death, suicidal thoughts, suicide attempts, strong langue….lots and lots of very wrong things.



Authors notes: Twenty points if you know who the Doctor is. Also I want to thank my new Editor Severn Zared.











Time had no relevance in the hospital, it came and went as it pleased taking ages for seconds to pass only to make a day vanish as if the sun had more pressing matters to attend to. James found himself lying on his back counting the cracks that dappled the aged ceiling he didn’t dare turn on the television fearing that all he would see would be static or his wife’s murder. One of the unknown doctors had come in to poke at him rattling off a list of injuries he had suffered. However at that moment James didn’t care if his ribs were cracked or jelled. He couldn’t feel a damned thing and his belly was filled with the best tasting food he’d had in what seemed like forever.



“Mister Sunderland?” The voice jarred James from his vegetative state. “Your mother has been contacted, and informed of your whereabouts.”



“What?” The food in him shifted transforming into an iced brick that sat heavily in his gut “My mother? Why the hell did you do that?!”



The man sighed, “If you had been listening Mr. Sunderland...”



“James,” he snapped. “Mister Sunderland is my father.”



“Right then James, if you had been listening to me I would not have to repeat myself.” The doctor snorted removing his glasses cleaning unseen dirt from them. “It is in my professional opinion that you are unable to take care of yourself; not only that, you are a danger to yourself and those around you.”



Even though the haze of blessed narcotics a flash of anger cleared James’ mind. “After less then a week?” Bitterness dripped from every word, his eyes narrowed as locks of blond hair flopped hanging down but doing nothing to lessen the intensity of his glare. “I thought that you had to inform me before you did something like that.” James was amazed at how cold his voice was he wondered where that brutal tone had come from. “All of my medical records state that she is not my emergency contact my Aunt and Uncle are.”



“That might have been the case but Mister Sunderland I regretfully inform you that they have passed on since your disappearance.” The doctor slid his glasses up his long beak-like nose with a graceful push of his middle finger. “I am terribly sorry that I had to be the one to break that news to you. Still, you are dangerous, you have had moment of aggression that led to the injury of several staff members.”



James growled looking down not wanting to see the man’s ash flaked obsidian eyes any longer. The only things keeping him from lunging at the man were his injures and shock. He had hurt people? “How long do I have doctor?” He wanted to snarl and spit at the bastard gut him with his spoon after all wouldn’t that be the most normal response for a lunatic?



“She should be here within the next day or so.” He had the nerve to smile at him. “Though we will be keeping you for at least a week.” The doctor blinked looking to James. “Where are my manors? I keep forgetting that you have been asleep and we have yet to be introduced I am Doctor Versteckt and I will be the one in charge of your care during your stay in this place.”



James frowned his eyes narrowing in thought, as damaged as he was they had no reason to be keeping him that long. The food had turned back into heavy slush and now rolled and sloshed threatening to make a reappearance, “Why?” He brought his head up his eyes burned demanding the truth.



“We need to watch your reaction to the medications, and we are going to be holding you as per your guardian’s request.” Versteckt stood in one smooth almost liquid motion the friendly warm smile still on his face. “You should try to get some rest and if you would like to talk to me I am fully trained grief counselor—”



Those words acted as a trigger, the world bled down to a thousand hews of red, his lips pulled away from his teeth showing them in an animalistic snarl. “Fuck you and your training. Medications? Fuck that I'm not insane.” He sat up fully and pulled himself to his feet ignoring the blaze of pain that washed over him. “Tell me doc how useful do you think that talking and pills are going to be?” He moved oddly graceful somehow. “Grief for what; my wife that I killed, the whore that I saw murdered before my eyes not once but twice and once again when I choked the life from her? Or for my Aunt and Uncle who were the last totally sane members of my family?”



Versteckt swallowed stepping back moving closer to the door. The man’s rage, the way he could move as injured as he was awe-inspiring. Each step that James took set of bells of alarm within Versteckt’s mind. “Mister Sunderland, James,” he spoke softly as soothingly as he could. “Please sit down and breathe, you are under extreme amounts of stress and while you might not be able to feel it your body is in pain.”



James was vaguely aware of the shift in his face in his expression he snarl was traded for a smile of pleasant madness “Really, doc? Stress and pain why didn’t I think of that?” The words were light and filled with exaggerated sweetness. “I should have but then I didn’t go to med school I bet you have to go to one to come up with that diagnosis.” He took another step forward delighting in the doctor’s clumsy backpedaling that almost sent the dark haired man falling to the ground. “You should know I can’t sleep or rest with strangers watching over me.” The smile became wider more pleasant but it held all the meaning of a light bulb.



“Yes...James that’s all right, I’ll leave you to rest.” Versteckt bowed his head, a few greased strands draped over his glasses obscuring his face. “Getting you well is our—is my top priority.”



A low growl trickled from James’ throat, but he did step back sitting carefully on the bed. He could not swallow the hiss of pain that slid from between his teeth. He held up a hand warning the man to keep his distance. “Stay away from me.” Something about the man’s look and professional care made James feel as though he had been dipped in a sewer. Perhaps the man had made a mistake in calling his mother; chances were he was just performing his duties even if he had jumped the gun in declaring him unable. “I don’t like strangers touching me.” The more he thought the slower his mind raced the less twisted his guts became. Yes, that was perfectly logical, a slightly over zealous doctor had decided to play god and assumed that he knew what was best for his subject. James closed his eyes feeling a bubble of hope form and start to rise. Logic however had not been part of his life for many years nor was he one to have any kind of faith in hope. Brahms was still close to the heart of his nightmares. “Embrace the path of righteousness holding the Mother ever close.” The words fell from his lips hollow and frigid. “To stray from the path is to walk down the slope of sin to stand head bowed before merciless judgment.”



The doctor’s face contorted to ecstasy laced fear as the light wash of color drained away leaving him almost ashen gray. Thin lips parted closed and parted again as his obsidian eyes glazed over in reverence. “May the Mother illuminate your path, may your eyes ever be clear to pass swift judgment on the wicked.” Versteckt bowed his head before he turned to slink out of the room an odd half grin twisted his lips. “Rest well, Brother James.”



It took most of what remained of his will not to hurl the pillow at the doctor like some plush instrument of death. Once the vulture like man had faded from sight and his door closed James hissed, “Damn it!” He lay down slowly on the firm hospital bed, his head swimming, pain cutting through the medications. Shadows of his distant past were cropping up once again ripping away at the normal world he had struggled to become part of. He knew the moment the hell bitch burst into his room his life as he had come to know it would end and she would rule over him keeping him clutched in her vice grip of insane dogma. Part of him would rather suffer through another session of rape with the red pyramid thing, but then that part of him argued the validity of calling that experience rape. His eyes closed once again to help clear and silence his mind. At the most he had a week before the woman would be allowed to take him into her den of madness. That meant that he had to somehow find a doctor that would contest the four eyed bastard’s professional option. Normally finding one money grubbing doctor to counter another’s was ridiculously easy however James had a sinking feeling with his luck he would find nothing but true believers in this pit willing to lick his mother’s fine Italian pumps.



Two days passed a blur of sleeping and waking hours of dread. He had found no one that would listen to his explanation. The one time he had thought he’d gotten through to some one it led to him being heavily sedated. James was starting to loath the ceiling above him for it refused to give him any kind of inspiration or answer to his problems. His lips moved in a silent prayer as he begged for any kind of intervention on his behalf. Once more the powers that ruled over all denied James any trace of compassion.



The lesser cuts that had dappled his body healed while the patch work of mottled bruising had begun to fade into a sickening yellow green. He ignored Madison as she sauntered in a bright smile on her face. He didn’t like to be handled by any one but having her change the miles of bandages was better then having Versteckt come in and do it. Something about the doctor's not quite smile--really almost a lecherous gaze-- left James shaken and feeling tainted. The only problem with Madison was he knew the stupid woman was trying to make him want her. The lower cut of her uniform top, the light scent of perfume that she had taken to wearing, all clear signs of a woman that was keen on making a man take interest so she could in turn trap said fool and beat him into the ideal image she wanted. Most of the time he would avoid talking to her, he wished that she would come to understand that words and extra makeup and an eyeful of cleavage were pointless. “You’re looking better today James.” Her words were something like the soft coo of a dove but something was wrong her muddy eyes watered. “You’re mother will be into see you once the paperwork is taken care of.” The lightly glossed cupid’s bow lips sank seeing the other wince. “The odd thing is that it seems that someone spilled coffee all over the original copies making them impossible to read. I wonder who that could have done that.”



James looked up to an expression he had not seen in years, the way Madison smirked and her eyes glowed with mischievous joy. He couldn’t help but smile. “I wonder.”



She could feel the blush blossom, James’s face transformed with the simple turn of his lips. The illusion of added years brought on by his serious expression faded. Even as battered as he was the man was handsome something about the way the light would catch his light hazel eyes turning them to shifting gems all shades of blues and greens, or maybe it was the way the golden locks always looked artfully rumpled from sleep. She looked away not wanting him to see her flushed in the cheeks like some school girl with a horrible crush.



“Are you all right?” James asked, his tone one of concern.



Madison nodded her head quickly. “Y—yes!” She forced herself to return to the task at hand this man was depending on her to take care of him not Johnny the Quarterback best looking boy in the world. “Why did you ask?”



It was James this time that had to look away. His eyes slid over to the window cheeks dusted a light rose. “No reason.” No matter how much Madison might resemble his lost Mary she was not her. If he let anything start with her would be cruel and a lie to himself and her. She was some one that more then likely deserved a lot better then a mentally damaged clerk. “No reason.”



She swallowed and took her hands away, hearing something all too final in James words. “Right.” She had to get out of the room before he saw her cry she wouldn’t allow him to see her fall to pieces. Quickly she bolted from the room almost knocking over one of her co-workers.



For a long time James did not turn from the window. Madison had been too close to what he had lost, what he had—no she had been ill. “Mary...” Her name was a loving whisper soothing and this time he could almost see her within his mind's eye, alive and well, vibrant, almost glowing with life. He blinked, not understanding where the drop of water on his hand had come from, until it was joined by another. He was crying. Three years after her passing and just the mention of her name could move him to tears. His breathing hitched when he realized the perfection of the sky, the brightness of the sun and the green of the grass. His mind paused to wrap around the unblemished beauty of the morning.



The sun had been shining that horrid day bright and cheerfully—no—blissfully unaware of the tragic nature of the ages old ceremony that was being carried out that cool spring morning. Clusters of people lined the sides of the deep mahogany casket. Golden rays of light warmed the backs encased in expensive black funeral garb but the soothing touch could not thaw the killing frost that had settled in his torn heart. James stood at the foot of the coffin, body numb, expression slack, broken. Part of him refused to believe that Mary was dead it still whispered words of hope of faith that she would overcome the cancer. With each breath he took he could smell her, when he closed his eyes he would see her feel her touch and amused voice. The body in that damned box couldn’t be her, couldn’t be his Mary. If it was her the sky its self would open up with tears soaking the earth and all that mourned with sheer sorrow. In the depths of his soul rage burned condemning what ever had taken his Mary away shattering his world, how dare that happen!



James snarled throwing his pillow at the window, wishing it were a brick. A sudden need to break something filled him howling to be appeased. Nothing mattered, nothing since his life had been turned inside out his last hope shattered at the hand of a deranged beast, demon, monster—himself?