Repentance.

Author's Note: Constructive criticism appreciated. I have taken a few liberties, particularly with the timing of the demise of our dear James, but what's the fun of fanfiction if you can't wander outside canon for a while?

Light filtered softly into the closet where James hid, dust mites floating gently in the slivers of false brightness. He fought back the bile rising in his throat, biting down hard on his hand. I will not scream, he chanted inwardly. I will not let it hear me. He knelt there in the semi-darkness, unable to tear his eyes away from the hideous scene played out before him. The red… creature… from the hallway earlier had found its way here, and was standing only a few precious feet from James.

The thing, which James had come to think of as the Pyramid Head, stood in the ruined kitchenette of the apartment. There was something else there, as well. James strained to look. He had an idea, but it couldn’t possibly…

Oh dear God, James thought. It is. Pyramid Head was standing in the kitchen, that was true, but bent backward across the countertop was a pair of female legs. James’s eyes followed the path of Pyramid Head’s blindly grasping hands, steadily upward. Instead of a torso, instead of a chest or forearms, instead of a head, there lay another set of lanky, feminine legs, the length of which were stained with the dried blood of old wounds opened and re-opened, scars and bruises long since beaten into the flesh.

James fought the urge to cry as the creatures moved together, a horrible wrenching and thrusting of inhuman organs and limbs. Mary, he thought. Jesus Christ… The female creature was shoved backward into the wall, and the agitation displayed by the Pyramid Head was truly terrifying. With blood-stained hands it grasped the upper legs of the beast, tearing it into different directions. A cacophony of sounds assaulted James, and his legs gave way. He fell to the floor of the closet with a crash, and the two creatures stopped abruptly. James’s eyes widened, and his fear became utterly palpable. Pyramid Head pulled away from the counter, taking with him one shattered, torn leg of the other creature. Copper-coloured blood drained from the battered limb, and James gagged from the stench.

The butcher inched closer to the door, hesitating slightly with each step. Without warning, the leg was dropped to the floor, a meaningless, wasted lump of unwanted flesh. James saw Pyramid Head moving toward his hiding place, and a choked, hoarse sob escaped his cracked lips. He crawled toward the back of the closet in a desperate, nonsensical effort to escape the beast. The door was flung open, and suddenly James felt himself dragged back into Hell.

His first sensation was that of searing heat, worming its way upward from the ankle by which he was being held. Rivulets of pain screamed up his calves, and visions of his own immolated corpse danced before his eyes. No! he thought. Not like this. Not like this. Pyramid Head released his hold on James’s ankle, and for a moment James thought he might escape. He made a single crawling motion toward the door and felt his hair being tugged, pulling him to his feet. James’s mind raced as he desperately grasped at anything resembling a logical thought, some desperate attempt to grab at reality and watch with relief as the curtains of this terrible dream came to a close, and he would find himself at home, lying in the dark next to his beloved Mary…

For James, no such succor would come. His first scream deafened him to all that followed, as he felt his entire being pervaded by every horrifying, gut-wrenching emotion he had ever imagined. This was chaos, this was loneliness, this was hopelessness, this was murder, this was rape, this was Sin incarnate, Death in the flesh, this was -- please Jesus please Satan anyone who’ll fucking goddamn listen…

…A vision of Mary. She looked so peaceful, lying there on that bed. It was a rare moment of silence for James. Ever since she had been diagnosed with the disease, it had eaten her from within. Nothing he could do could please her. Every breath she had drawn had held in it a rattle of death, and every exhalation was a curse, placed specifically on James. Not a moment’s peace had he enjoyed since her institutionalization. The Mary he loved, the Mary he had held, the Mary had fallen asleep beside, she was gone. And with one swift motion, he had restored that Mary. He had breathed into her blissful, eternal life, where prior to that there had been only decay.

James was torn out of his reverie by excruciating pain tearing through his back. He felt droplets of water caress newly-made rends in his flesh. His head sagged and his eyes fell on the growing puddle of crimson staining the carpet beneath his legs. He realized that the water he felt was not water at all, but his own blood, flowing freely now from his destroyed body. He moaned weakly and his knees buckled. He felt himself pulled back to his feet by an unholy sharpness tearing through his midsection. An inhuman paw clutched at his hair, and James felt his head pulled roughly backward. His spine arched in a graceful curve, a debased mockery of Maria’s Mary’s body the first night they had made love -- and James knew from the bottom of his heart that this was to be his punishment. His atonement.

His mind raced. That fucking sign… that sign… he should have known. There was a HOLE here, it had warned. It’s gone now. James began laughing, softly at first, then a deep, rattling laugh, maniacal and utterly unhinged. The flames had moved up his abdomen now, and he could feel their black fires gnawing at his lungs, charring his arteries. He hardly recognized his own voice as he began shrieking, a low wail from the depths of his soul. “There’s a fucking hole here now, isn’t there?” he shouted, knowing no-one would hear his dying breaths. As if in answer, the beast behind him bent him farther over, and James felt something in his spinal column snap. He screamed, and blood spilled from his throat. “There’s a pretty big goddamn hole now, right? Oh fucking Mary, goddamn Maria, I fucking hate you, you wretched fucking whore! Jesus Christ I fucking hate you...” His words trailed off into an indistinguishable bawling, a mindless spasm of the throat and bitten-through tongue, devoid of all meaning.

Just before he slipped into blissful, cooling unconsciousness, he saw that pale face, framed by dusted blonde hair, those beautiful wide eyes laughing, always at him, always at his misfortune. Bitter, burning tears mixed with the blood streaming from his pores. The butcher, god, demon, whatever he was, released his desecrated body, and James fell to the floor in a heap. And always that face… that beautiful, laughing face, truthful but merciless even to the end… “I’m here, James. Waiting for you.”