Who I Really Am

Title: Who I Really Am
Fandom: Silent Hill
Warning: Slash, gore, horror, AU. NC-17.
Pairing: Pyramid Head/James
Disclaimer: Silent Hill is owned and copyrighted by others besides myself. I'm only playing with the boys.
Author's note: I have NEVER written in this fandom. And this wasn't a pairing I had really considered. Honestly, when finding this pairing and having come across a screenshot of the Pyramid Head character, I was thinking 'You gotta be kidding me. Sure the Pyramid is distinctively male and all, but with a head like that?!'
But…I shall brave it and attempt this.
Warning2: I have NEVER played the games (although I plan to). The only Silent Hill I have ever come across was Silent Hill: the movie. *Shrugs* Well, at the very lease *I* enjoyed it.
Warning3: Personally, I can't write fics that have rape; I've only done it once, well, hinted at it. Made me uncomfortable. NOT hinting that fanfiction in this fandom is focused on that, but I've come across fics in many fandoms with this act of violence occurring. Writers who brave that realm, I applaud your efforts and the grace in which they manage it. But myself personally, I shall brave into another realm that in my fic, in the fandom of Silent Hill, that this one particular act of express violence does not occur.
Inspiration: Song 'The Kill' by Thirty Seconds from Mars

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(Lyrics may not be entirely accurate. My apologies)

What if I wanted to fight
Beg for the
Rest of my life?
What would you do?
You say you wanted more
What are you waiting for?
I'm not running from you

Come break me down
Bury me, bury me
I am finished with you
Look at my eyes
You're killing me
All I wanted was you

I'm trying to be someone else
But nothing seems to change
I know now
This is who I really am inside
I've become myself
Fighting for a chance
I know now
This is who I really am


James' hands wouldn't stop shaking. Beyond his control, the gun was nearly vibrating between clammy palms.

His fingers were so tight that it took almost an entire minute to convince them to unstiffen and release the gun. The weapon clattered to the dirt-stained floor, useless and without bullets. The search for ammunition was met with no success. James was forced to acknowledge the reality that all he had to fight with were his wits and his bare hands.

The clatter of the gun was deafening loud in the long dark stretch of the corridor. James had ceased trying to remember his way through the building; too many turns and hallways led to innumerable dead ends and locked doors.

This place….was the epitome of nightmares. No wall was left unstained, many even appearing to be hand-painted with various gore and trash. Like a child slapping dirty hands with glee across a white and pristine canvas.

There were several buildings that remained fully intact and with little altercations to their original designs. But the darkness had leeched itself into the walls, into the floors. The very air reeked with the taint, metallic and thick like one was swallowing the smell rather than breathing it in.

This land of nightmares was having numerous effects on James. Numbness had eventually settled itself inside of him and had gone to seed. After the third time he had inadvertently come across eviscerated and nearly unrecognizable human bodies that were propped up as if on display, James had ceased to feel horror and finally had little in his stomach in order to wretch over the smell and sight of so much blood and carnage.

This place was beyond anything he could have possibly anticipated…

A part of him knew that a piece would always follow him, even if he managed to escape…

Silent Hill.

He had to have spent days in the town. He was aching and bruised, body weak with hunger. What little sanitary food and clean water he had managed to salvage had offered him no better prospects than the few scraps of clean gauze and painkillers he had stumbled upon. The scraps of clean material and small tablets had offered brief respite from the throbbing agony that pulsed inside of his body, matching the tempo of his heartbeat.

Some of the creatures that lurked in Silent Hill had managed to strike him with a hard blow, leaving his body to bear the evidence. His shoulder ached from where acid from on of the Armless creatures had passed over his collar with barely an inch separating clothing and skin from the corrosive fluid.

He swallowed bitterly at the thought of the acid having possibly have come in full contact.

Another, some sort of zombie like dog, had nearly ripped his leg out of its socket, using enough strength to tear James off of his feet and onto the ground dragging the man and gnawing at the thick material of his pants. James had barely managed to make it back off with a few well-placed bullets to the skull, but that had merely managed to slow it down.

James had been lucky to escape from both incidents with no broken bones, but the flesh was weak and with the warning heat of possible infection threatening to sink its teeth deep into blood and meat. He was nearly running on empty.

How long before his luck eventually ran out and one of these creatures managed to snag more than a limb or cause him to stumble? How much longer would he have to endure the image in his head, of him falling into a pool of his own blood as some demon tore into him with ruthless and delirious glee?

It was all seeming so pointless. Everywhere James ran and stumbled, he would only come across monsters that came too close, too many times, to devouring him in mind and body. The creatures' physical bodies would drive a normal person mad. Seeming neither real while simultaneously too real to be a figment of his imagination. The sounds…

James groaned softly. Some of the creatures sounded as if they were in a world of agony that was all their own. The moans and screams shred along his body and brain like nails across a chalkboard. The creatures' bodies pulsed and twitched, seeming to be caught in a thrall of pain and confusion. Trapped within the prison of their bodies and minds.

But there were those that appeared to delight in their twisted and hideous forms. Those few seemed to cackle like mad jesters, faces frozen into grins of fangs and gore as they rustled, slid, and clattered towards their victim. On occasion James had witnessed, from a distance, as the creatures stroked various stretches of skin, claws, and areas of their body. Acting as if entranced by some form of art that only they had the vision to 'see'.

Fewer still were the ones that had little to nothing to do with James. The ones that seemed lost and alone, wane and hopeless shells of their human selves, perhaps? They peered back at the man with flat and blank faces; eyes dead and dry like bones. Their hands twitched and stretched towards the beams of light from the lamp situated on his chest, seeming to find momentary peace and warmth from the fragile light.

The madness of each creature and beast, no matter how great or small, was a disease. The more that James encountered, the harder it was to keep the taint away.

'I must already be a lost cause, if I haven't been driven mad by them.' James chuckled bitterly with an edge of hysteria snaking alongside.

Sometimes he wondered what the hell he was doing here. Chasing after a deceased woman. His dead wife.

Mary, his beautiful Mary.

'Mary,' James begged, 'I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry that I'm not strong enough. No matter where I look, I can't seem to find you. All I find are demons and ghosts.'

A hand slid up to cover his mouth, stifling the initial gasp that signaled his pain-filled sob. 'This place really is Hell.'

The only things he was chasing were ghosts. Trailing after the disappearing scent of his wife's perfume, the tendrils of soft gold hair and a soft floating whisper of his name. Every time he thought he had come so close to reaching her, just to have the image of Mary disappear, it felt a piece of him was shattering and slipping away with her. Trickling through his fingers and leaving a stain upon his soul.

Taking a couple of deep gulping breaths James tried to calm himself. Now wasn't the time to be having doubts and hysterics, least of all with the risk of anything lurking around the corner eager to seize any sign of momentary weakness.

For the past two hours, the building had grown strangely silent. He had had a brief respite it seemed. Stumbling around in the dark while thankfully not tripping over another crawling or dismembered creature, after a while forced to turn off the small lamp stitched into the lapel of his vest. He had learned early on that the light appeared to attract the beasts like moths to a flame. But at the same time he was blind without it, and had nearly been decapitated while stumbling dumb and blind into a creature that had dangled from the ceiling like an overgrown bat and nearly taking his head off with a long and snaking prehensile tongue.

James continued to edge his way down the corridor, shifting away from any adjacent hallways that led to a dead end. He carefully jostled the handles of the two doors he came across, cursing under his breath when finding they were locked and too sturdy to attempt breaking them down.

While it was tempting to attempt to force his way in, James was hesitant to break the temporary silence and solitude in fear of drawing attention to the noise he would generate. Better, it seemed, to be safe rather than sorry.

Passing another adjacent hallway James stopped at the very corner, carefully leaning around to check for any danger--

--And muffled a shout of shock and terror when finding himself nearly chest to chest with the Pyramid creature. He stumbled back, as a gloved hand reached towards him.

By some sheer force of luck or divine intervention, the man managed to duck the long stretch of arm as a stained gloved hand reached for him. Fingers caught the edge of his shirt, and James was forced to slip free of his vest in order to escape the tight grip. The loss of his vest and the only light source that had been on his person were soon the last things on his mind.

A hollow and rumbling sound followed him as the man/demon shuffled tirelessly after him, hand firm and tight around the heavy and large blade that he dragged. The screech of the metal blade across the ground chased after him, almost biting at his heels.

James gasped as he again barely managed to elude another swipe from the tall demon, the panicked man now running for his life.

He was running blind, like a panicked rabbit fleeing a wolf. Litter upon the ground slowed him down, pooling around his legs like water. He forced his way past, breathing heavily as he took a sharp turn down another branching corridor.

Up ahead he could make out a set of doors that he hadn't come across before, the two surprisingly thick and intact metal doors opened partway.

He recognized what they were.

Elevator doors.

Pleading to any silent entity above James ran for the only possible exit that the elevator may offer, finding nothing else in the corridor leading into the opposite direction that only led to a collapsed archway that blocked any further progress forward.

The squeeze between the two doors was tight, barely enough give to allow him to slip through.

"Please, please, please…" He begged softly, feeling along the control panel to the right, eyes barely making out the numbers and letters etched into the smooth buttons.

He slammed his hand several times into the proper area until finally the doors slid completely shut with a soft but definite sound of finality.

James wanted to collapse to the ground with relief and exhaustion, but he knew he had little to no time. The Pyramid creature may appear slow moving, but such a conclusion was deadly. The demon seemed to move around with incomprehensible speed, appearing in the oddest and most startling places even when James was absolutely certain he had left it far behind him.

The small light at the top and center of the elevator was as small as a candle's flame, having flickered to life as his fingers forced the elevator into action, activating long-silent controls and cables.

'Come on!!' He cursed silently, pressing hard at the number '1' key. He already knew that he was several floors below the lobby, and that there were many exits on the first floor that would allow him to escape from the building and to possible safety.

He was so focused upon trying to force the controls to respond that he didn't hear something sliding along the outside of the doors until it was nearly too late.

Reacting on instinct James ducked to the floor, shielding his head as the long and broad blade of metal pierced through the doors like it was burning with the forces of the fires of Hell. The blade twisted and arched, cutting into the doors and the elevator wall opposite. The metal creaked and groaned like a wounded beast, warping and bending to the will of the bearer of the blade.

As quickly as it had forced its way into the small enclosed area the large blade slid out and away with a sharp grating hiss.

James ducked and pressed himself further to the ground to avoid the arm that reached through the gaping hole, the hand flexing and groping wildly reaching for the prey that eluded it so desperately.

The gloved fingers brushed the edges of his blonde hair; James sprawled out as close to the farthest corner that he could, the small space allowing him very little area to escape to. It was either desperation or stupidity that made him dart up several times for the controls, slapping ANY button in the hopes that the elevator would take him somewhere else, as far away from Pyramid Head as it could.

James darted back as the hand persisted in trying to grab him, passing over his face with barely a millimeter between them.

As if losing patience with the game they were playing the hand stopping reaching and searching for James and instead curled around towards the thin line of space between the sealed doors. Fingers groped and sunk deep into the space. James heard something clatter and smack the doors from the outside; the only possibility being that Pyramid Head's other hand was manhandling the doors on the other side.

'NO!' James screamed inside in denial, watching in horror as the doors groaned once again, shuddering as the strong arms and hands pulled with unrelenting force. Slow, so slowly, the doors began to separate allowing a sliver of space to begin growing. Becoming wider and wider with each passing moment.

It seemed like hours, but probably only a minute until the doors were forced open. Pyramid used his impressive size to wedge himself between the doors so that they wouldn't slide closed once again. The pyramid helmet on his head barely fit into the compartment, the demon leaning further inside. He loomed over James like some sort of descending dark angel, the helmet shadowing the man. James shuddered from the steady and heavy breathing that grated through the open underside of the helmet, the inside too dark that James could make out no face or features. Not that he wanted to.

In a desperate bid for freedom James darted forward, attempting to get around Pyramid Head's long legs as he slid between the now fully opened doors.

It wasn't surprising, but all the same James still cried out when firm fingers fell and circled the back of his neck, stilling his flight of escape. Catching him as easily as one would gather up a wild and scrabbling young pup.

The pressure on the back of his neck was immense, his legs kicking helplessly as he was lifted up and into the air. James wheezed loudly, hands clutching at the hand that held him prisoner. His smaller, thinner and pale hands were so inferior when held against Pyramid Head's, circling the thick wrist and squeezing the corded muscles and veins.

"You…bast-ard-" James gasped, spitting and hissing like a cornered animal.

He could swear that, for a moment, that he heard the rumble of soft yet dark laughter at his expense.

JAMES.

JAMES…

The sound of his name was stilling, a whisper that slid along the skin, an abrasion that cut into the bone.

Distantly he heard another voice, and he jerked when he recognized the second voice.

'James!' Mary cried out.

'James, run!! Run! Get away from him!'

"..mary…" James whispered, chasing after the fleeting echo of her beloved voice.

Pyramid Head's other hand came around, laying along the side of James' face as soft and as searching as a lover's did. James shuddered.

The hand stretched along the side of his skull, tilting him to force James to peer up into the recess of the helmet.

TIME TO STOP RUNNING, JAMES.

Something flickered and burned within the deepest shadows of the helmet, burning as bright as lamp torches.

James' eyes met the pair of burning lights, the two dots blinking slowly and purposely.

James felt as if he were suddenly falling.

His body rebelled, shuddering and convulsing as if he were caught in the arms of a vicious seizure. His mind and eyes burned as if blinded by the hot flare of burning magnesium. A long and anguish howl of noise, nearly inhuman with its agony, was filling the air. It took a moment for him to realize that the scream was coming from his own throat.

This time, he really was falling, as the hand that had laid against hi face reared back and descended with determined might. Stars exploded and melted into burning magnesium, and James finally knew blessed darkness and silence.


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His head was throbbing, threatening to explode from the pain and pressure.

Chapped lips fluttered open as a soft sound of pain brought James back into awareness, vision swimming into focus. He could make out the flat brown ceiling far above him, arms and hands stretched over his head with his shoulders and the back of his arms flat against metal.

James twisted around, a curl of ice settling in his gut when his hands refused to budge, a sliding creak or metal tugging at his wrists. Arching his head to the side, he caught the sight of thick chains connected to sturdy manacles on each wrist, securing him to whatever slab of metal he was laid out on.

Whatever he lay on was long and cold, the heels of his boots several inches away from the edge. Around his ankles were another set of chains and manacles, the thick strands of metal disappearing over the edge and secured somewhere else as well.

James rocked and arched, trying to tug free, the chains allowing for no give. The slab of metal creaked warningly, and for a moment, he feared it would topple over. It settled back into place, small dark wheels moving back into place.

A gurney.

He was laid out and chained to a fucking gurney.

'This isn't happening,' James pleaded silently, shifting restless uncomfortable by how he was stretched and laid out like some sort of human sacrifice. He quickly shuffled that thought into a small and distant corner of his mind. Now was not the time to have hysterics.

Okay…the whole situation was impractical and mad. This wasn't mere a simple act of trussing him up with chains. James was being put on display like a trophy.

Trying to gather his wits James took a moment to scope out what he could of the room he was in. The ceiling was the only area with a boring and mute color. The walls and floor were composed of a dark glossy metal, similar to some sort of military barracks, perhaps. Dry stains of rust and other mottled tones of red stretched liberally across broad expanses. There was no door, only a large empty doorframe that led beyond into some unseen room.

Sound was echoed and hung absurdly loud and for a long period. The metal all around him was the perfect accessory in a den for the demons to have fun with their new toy.

The room in general was massive, the ceiling well over twenty feet above him with large metal bolts staked deep into various areas. James chose to ignore the few bolts that held the ragged remains of forgotten and rusted chains, refusing to think about what those bolts and chains had previously been used for or connected to.

He almost looked over the familiar stretch of sharply crafted metal that was leaning against the farthest wall across from where he was facing, leaning near the open doorway. James' automatic response to flinch and jerk away caused the chains to rattle abruptly so that the sound echoed dangerously loud.

It was the large and heavy blade that Pyramid Head would drag behind him, the demon weighed down by the immeasurable and deadly weapon. The tip of the blade was buried into the floor so that the weapon wouldn't crash to the ground. Cracks spread from the area where the blade had been shoved downwards, the force from such a strike must have been massive for the floors to show such damage. The demon was incomparable by far to another other demons James had encountered throughout Silent Hill.

So, then. Where was the creature of the hour?

Perhaps he had grown bored with the unconscious human, instead leaving James to find something else that would offer more sport and entertainment. There was no fun in an unresponsive victim that wasn't even aware of the torment that awaited him.

James could only hope. His faith might be his only weapon right now.

Maybe it would give him enough time to figure out a way to at least slide off of the gurney. From there he could quickly assess how to possibly slide the chains off of the legs of the metal slab, even willing to work the wheels off in order to slip free. If he were quiet and patient for long enough, the possibility of escape only broadened. James was even willing to suffer through the weight and imprisonment of the shackles attached to each limp even if he had to drag them alongside throughout his endeavor.

As if sensing that the human was planning to flee, a long and steady shuffling began to approach from the other room. One heavy blast of sound bouncing within solid and encasing metal forewarned the human of how suddenly his prospects of escape had dropped significantly.

James' chest heaved, cheeks flushing as he began to hyperventilate. Logic and coolheaded thoughts spilled away as if ripped away by rip-tide. He knew what was coming, but hoped against hope that it was his imagination playing a cruel and sick joke on him.

No such mercy.

A strong hand preceded the body of the tall demon, gripping the edge of the doorframe as the great helmet bent in order to fit through the low entrance. Low for him, in any case. Sinew was stretched tight over mottled skin and old scars while the shoulders moved with and under the weight of Pyramid Head's helmet.

James cringed away, trying to disappear into the gurney against his back.

Pyramid Head finally moved fully into the room, taking a broad step to the side and away from the entrance. James thought the action was accidental and had no ulterior motive, but he was soon proven horribly, horribly wrong.

Another demon, as tall and as awe and horror inspiring followed its twin into the room. This one bore upon its head another pyramid helmet, a perfect match to his brother from the long butcher's apron to the gloves upon his hands. The only noticeable difference was in the weapon that the newcomer carried, a long sharp and deadly spear that was as tall as James was.

Two Pyramid Heads. It seemed as if everything was working against James. Karma for whatever errors or negative choices he had ever made in his life. Karma that had become a tangible and physical entity in order to judge and strike him down.

The one who had entered the room first turned towards his twin, indicating the bound human with one hand. DO YOU SEE? He asked.

It was the same deep and rocking voice that spoke and echoed within the cage of James' mind. Wind through a dark and empty stone castle could compete with the stilling voice, a physical force that slammed into and around another's body. Such power behind the act of speech that could be so easily taken for granted. James' knew that there was enough power behind the voice that if Pyramid Head wished it, a curse or a bellow using his voice would sense an army to their knees.

The second Pyramid Head tilted the massive helmet to the side, analyzing James' from the corner of his turned head. From the way he held his body, the second demon appeared neither impressed nor displeased by the human's presence. James would have rather both of the demons simply ignore him and continue on with whatever mayhem or terror they performed in order to entertain themselves.

--YES.-- The other answered. The voices were what separated the two, primarily. Physical one or the other bore a scar that the other did not carry. But the second Pyramid Head's voice…if James' had thought that the first could make men fall to their knees, then the second could make men submit and tremble. The second's voice was a tingle, a rising flood of hot and cold that rose within the body and made you weak in the legs and your voice stutter.

THIS IS THE ONE WHO HAS ELUDED US FOR SO LONG. The first finished.

'Not long enough.' James thought privately.

As the two demons began to move towards him, James' eyes slammed closed. He didn't care how cowardly or weak it may appear, but he was unwillingly to look upon his own death as it came to steal him away. He buried his face into his left arm that was stretched over his head, pressing a forehead to the trembling flesh as if it would help him hide away from the oncoming nightmare.

It's amazing how the body shifts and responds to imminent violence. Skin that had burned hot and frigid suddenly felt like plastic, foreign and restricting blood and bone within. Hearing reached a whole new pinnacle, the swishing sound of blood flowing, heart thudding like a drum, air whooshing in and out, in and out. The body felt frozen in place and weightless, and time slowed to an almost complete stop so that the danger seemed to approach so slow an inescapable reckoning that held no mercy.

He jerked noticeable when two loud and echoing clangs of metal echoed through the room as if several large objects had fallen to the floor. A third clank of metal hit the ground as well although nowhere near as loud as the previous two. But James wasn't willing to open his eyes to see what had made so much noise. Sometimes it was better not to know what was taking place. If you can't see it, then it's not there. Simple logic that even a small child could comprehend.

James stiffened when the heat of a close body drew close to him, practically sensing the tall form that was standing at the head of the gurney. A furnace must be burning hot and alive within whichever demon stood so close. Appearance made one believe that the tall form would be as cold as ice, like a corpse. Stiff flesh stuck in the restrain of rigor mortis and blood unmoving.

Two strong hands clasped the sides of his skull, turning his face away from its hiding place and stilling when his closed eyes were once again looking up towards the ceiling. In his head James' focused on the memory of each rough patch of paint and the cracking and peeling wood and plaster, forcing his mind to focus and dwell only on that. Not focused on the firm warmth against his skin and fingers that could easily gouge into flesh and break the bones of his jaw.

'No begging, no begging,' He commanded, not willing to break down that far.

His bottom lip was bloody, bleeding from the pressure of his teeth as he refused to make any sounds of fear or pain. James' chest heaved and shook, heart fluttering like a caged bird underneath his ribs. Beating and pounding so hard and fast that he thought the organ would tear its way out of the prison of bone.

James nearly brained himself when his head jerked back and clanged hard into the gurney when another pair of hands settled upon his hips. A heavy weight of heat stretched over his bound legs. It took a moment for the man to realize that the other Pyramid Head had circled to stand at the foot of the gurney. With their equal height, the one standing at the edge of his chained legs could easily lean over the bound human, possibly able to lean far enough that the demon and man would nearly be shoulder to shoulder.

A low and stretching moan of panic managed to escape as the hands on his hips began a slow and searching slid up the fabric of his jeans. They passed the edge of his waistband, shifting to slide underneath his shirt and along bare skin. The warm hands skimmed along trembling and cool flesh, thumbs following and tracing the trail of individual ribs as if memorizing each fragile human bone. Finally, the hands stopped, settling heavily on his chest, circling the area where his heart beat madly, the farthest two fingers from the thumbs of each hand just brushing against the flat skin of James' nipples.

His lungs were heaving, aching for air as he hyperventilated. Pools of bright light sparked underneath his eyelids, dizziness rising as the lack of oxygen began to affect him. 'This isn't happening. It's not real, it's not real..' James stuttered silently.

The hands on his chest shifted again until they lay directly over each side of his rib cage. Steady force caught and held the heaving chest, forcing it to expand and fall at the two hands' command. James' body seized, instinctively fighting the weight and foreign presence along flesh and against bone.

--BREATHE, JAMES.-- The Pyramid Head holding James' face commanded, the order shivering through each cell in his body and stabbing deep.

The voice offered no other option or choice.

Having only one avenue to follow, he began to focus on his breathing, focusing on the two hands that coaxed his chest to rise, and pushed steadily to encourage his chest to fall. The process repeated for almost five minutes, the demons' patience unending.

James swallowed with difficulty, coughing raggedly as mouthfuls of air were swallowed eagerly, lungs aching for what they needed. Fatigue settling deep and weighing him down.

James could feel himself breaking and surrendering made aware of his mortality and fragile skin when underneath the hands of the Pyramid Heads. His mind and body were at the threshold of his endurance, and it seemed like nothing could possibly pull him back and away from the stretching void.

'I really was a fool. To think that I could walk out of this place alive.' He cursed his idealism, cursing the cruel reality that this place took no prisoners. And allowed nothing either great nor small, to escape. Holding each and everything within with greedy tenacity, refusing to let go.

"Just do-just do it." He begged, "Just get it over with and kill me."

The hands surrounding his face tightened, enough that they began to hurt him that flesh threatened to flush and bruise. The pair on his chest pressed down further, the pressure seizing him and holding him in place. James was certain that his skull would be crushed or that the inhumanly strong hands would skewer his chest, smashing and punching deep with a loud wet suction as tissue and sinew bent and swallowed the weapons of flesh.

A whisper of a familiar voice sighed through his mind, reaching even the farthest and darkest corners. Soothing him and softly, so softly bringing his mind away from the physical nightmare that his flesh was having to endure.

'James…' Mary called.

'James…I'm with you.'

'Don't be afraid. I'm waiting for you here.'

James shuddered, recognizing the sound of his wife, her voice a siren call, a beacon to his aching and fragile soul. 'Mary…..'

It was tempting, then, to escape into the imminence of death. Just to be free and able to hold his wife in his arms. To finally see and hold her again, to promise that he would never let her go. That he would be the husband that she deserved and needed and not the man who spent long nights out on his job so that she would have to sleep alone. Not the kind of life when there were days that they felt like the other person was a stranger, or where they wondered if it had been a wise decision to rush so early into a marriage that friends had warned them had been too sudden.

That long, stretching moment where James was certain he could 'see' Mary, a softly smiling angel with a halo of light around her, reaching a slim hand out towards her husband, was efficiently shattered by two simultaneous voices.

NO.

--NO.--

YOU WILL NOT ESCAPE.

--YOU BELONG ONLY TO US.--

NOT TO A DEAD WOMAN.

The hard jerk back from the moment of serenity and back to reality made James sob. It was truly a cruel punishment to be so tempted by the light and touch of something he had held and loved so dear. He screamed in pain, frustration, and anger, bucking against the hands that held him prisoner. "JUST KILL ME!!!" He screamed and begged, thrashing mindlessly, wanting it all just to end. Just wanting everything to end!

The voices returned, softer but even more terrifying than before. Words that froze and etched deep into his soul.

BUT JAMES…

--WE NEVER INTENDED TO KILL YOU.--

YOU CAN'T ESCAPE WHAT YOU ARE.

--YOU CAN'T ESCAPE WHAT YOU WILL BECOME.--

"What?!" James demanded, trying to shake the hands away from his face. They refused to budge or shift. Flesh imprisoned by flesh, both burning with a different kind of fire. "What the hell am I, then?!"

YOU ARE THE SLAVE.

--BOUND TO A DEAD WOMAN BY THE DUTY AS HER HUSBAND.--

YOU WILL BECOME THE SERVANT.

--DEVOTED AND WILLING TO SERVE YOUR MASTERS.--

YOU WILL WANT ONLY THE DARKNESS.

--YOU WILL ACHE ONLY FOR US.--

YOU WILL LOVE ONLY US.

--YOU WILL LOVE ONLY US.--

"You're lying." James said, shakily. He shook his head in fierce denial. "You're lying!!! You're lying, you sons of bitches!" He cursed the Pyramid Heads. "As if any beasts such as you would know anything about love! Don't you dare think that you can continue tormenting with such lies!!"

--BUT JAMES…--

YOU'RE THE ONE WHO HAS BEEN LYING TO HIMSELF.

"..no…" James refused.

--YOU DENY YOUR OWN SINS.--

YOUR GREED, YOUR PRIDE.

--WHEN MARY LEFT YOU, SHE LEFT YOU ALL ALONE. HOW COULD SHE NOT SEE THAT YOU COULDN'T BEAR TO BE LEFT BEHIND? BECAUSE OF YOUR GREED, YOU WERE WILLING TO VENTURE HERE IN SEARCH OF A DEAD WOMAN, JUST SO YOU WOULDN'T HAVE TO SUFFER FROM A LONELY HOME AND BED.--

YOUR PRIDE MADE YOU ACT AS A KNIGHT, AS A SAVIOR. CARRYING OUT THE DUTY OF A HUSBAND AS WAS FITTED UPON YOU. THE HERO WHO WAS TRYING TO SAVE HIS BELOVED, TO SAVE HIS BEAUTIFUL WIFE WHO WAS ALREADY THERE, ROTTING IN A BOX UNDER THE GROUND.

"Shut up. Just shut up." James cursed, "What makes you think you have the right to judge me?"

--ACCEPT YOUR SINS.--

"Accept yours!!" James countered loudly.

The two voices chuckled in eerie unison.

WHAT MAKES YOU THINK WE HAVEN'T?

--LUST, WRATH, GLUTTONY, GREED, PRIDE, SLOTH, ENVY. WE'VE SEEN AND DONE IT ALL.--

WE ARE NOT ASHAMED. WE ACCEPT THEM.

--AND ONLY WE CAN FREE YOU.--

ONLY WE CAN MAKE YOU WHOLE.

James shook his head, refusing to speak further, cursing and damning them both.

Something warm and smooth brushed along his lips. The upside-down press of lips sent a sense of vertigo through him. James' parted in surprise, and another heavy press fell to cover his own. Strands of hair caressed his cheeks, and James' eyes almost flared open in shock of the touch.
'The helmet is gone?'

'Then those two loud crashes earlier. One had to have been the spear…and the others…' Unable to believe the possibility of such an act. The helmets were almost sentient, separate entities that held a presence and enormity just by themselves.

The mouth covering his flexed and James' jaw opened further, allowing a strong tongue to reach in and explore every nook and crevice. He moaned softly into the mouth, despair and heat filling him from the intense assault. Something like this shouldn't feel so powerful, so consuming. His body started to twitch and come to attention in interest of the sudden pleasurable assault while his mind railed and shouted violently against any lips other than Mary's coming in contact with his.

James jerked as the hands on his chest slid back down to skim over his hips, exploring down, down, to run along his flanks. He hissed as five lines of pressure tugged along his jeans, the fabric underneath each finger hissing and popping beneath the assault. The fabric split open wherever Pyramid Head's hands fell, baring pale skin and thin lines of crimson unbroken skin flaring brightly. Goosebumps spread over his skin as bare flesh came in contact with cold metal beneath him, to quickly be soothed by almost too hot of hands. He too felt the familiar scratch of hair along the stretches of torn fabric, further feeding his conclusion of the two demons' helmets for some reason or other having been shed and left to fall to the ground.

His mouth was devoured and attacked, pushing and sliding together in a parody of two bodies pushing together. The flesh of his thighs, calves, hips and fluttering stomach were being mapped as if it held some hidden treasure.

James whimpered as lips separated long enough for him to breathe deeply before being sealing closed and together once again fingers sliding and trailing over the arched skin of his neck and collar.

That's when it hit him.

He was being assaulted and groped by two demons.

'What am I doing?' He thought in horror.

"mmmhhMMmmpphhhh…." James whimpered against the other Pyramid Head's mouth. His hands clenched and metal clanked as he rattled the chains, legs kicking helplessly but pinned by the weight of another male body. He stilled instantly as hands along his waist drew dangerously close to the area between his legs, a distant part of him panicking at the thought of those hands closing tightly over the sensitive flesh. Fearing the potential pain from what those hands could do if they twisted and continued to twist until they tore away what made James a man.

James hissed as the hem of his shirt was shoved upwards, the fabric twisted until it pooled near the hollow of his throat. He choked into the mouth devouring him when another mouth fell upon the flesh covering bone that covered his heart. The lips parted and sharp teeth and firm lips and tongue began to map his chest, moving steadily across and downward. James cried out in surprise and no little pain when fingers pressed down on flat nipples hard enough to make him jerk and a firm set of teeth gnawed on the stretched skin of his side right on the edge of his waistband.

Finally he was released, allowed to breathe as their lips separated. His mouth was damp and swollen, throbbing from the pressure that had been asserted upon unpracticed lips. Unnoticed his lips had been wiped clean of the blood that he had done to himself.

"-Stop. You've got to stop this.." James persisted, even as the mouth moved from his side and rose to cover his mouth. A different set of lips captured and swallowed his, James' head falling back underneath the long and steady attack. This time, however, his partner was even bolder. With a sharp tug and suction James' tongue was pulled into a position of reciprocation, sliding and stroking against an unfamiliar caress of muscle.

It felt like they were all over him at once. Hands were everywhere, stretching and mapping, tempting and tormenting. Making James feel alive. Making him feel as if he wanted to die.

'I can't…' James moaned helplessly, slipping free and head falling to the side. Panting for air, legs and arms twitching and shaking while being held down and shifted into whatever position either Pyramid Head desired. 'What is the point of all this?' He wondered.

A sharp rip of fabric and the front of his shirt was ripped entirely away, the twisted material thrown to the side and no longer bunched against his throat. There was a purpose to that, it seemed. The Pyramid Heads were moving with more focus and determination.

Hands returned to surround his face, tilting his head towards the ceiling. The other pair was once again along his rib cage, and for a moment, there was a sense of deja-vu from the repeat of how the hands once again lay. James felt a flash of confusion, panic, and humiliation at the possibility of having daydreamed the session of kisses and stroking.

OPEN YOUR EYES, JAMES.

--LOOK AT US.--

NOW.

Uncertainty and fear once again sparked inside James, and he shook his head in refusal.

--DO IT.--

DO IT.

The voices thundered.

How fierce the command rocked him. Involuntarily, James' eyes shot wide open.

The two faces that he saw above him had precisely the same features except for the eyes. One burned a fiery and molten red and yellow, the other a pale and sulfurous blue. James' human eyes were too weak to comprehend and fully take in the sight of such faces. His vision dimmed, churned, and exploded.

They were too beautiful to look upon.

They were too horrible to comprehend.

At the exact moment that the familiar flare and magnesium began to burn across his eyes, pain like fire and ice began to burn across his chest. Jerking his head down to look upon his torso, James watched in numb terror as seething and glowing scatters of ruby and obsidian began to pour and spread across his skin from beneath the spread of the hands across his ribs. The horrible miasma was etching and carving its way into his skin, beyond muscle and bone, stretching and reaching towards any untainted and unmarked flesh.

The pain was beyond comprehension. It was beyond unbearable. It felt like he was being burned alive from the inside, like his very flesh was peeling and melting away underneath those hands.

James didn't resist screaming.

The hollow and ringing wails were enough to possibly be heard for miles. James screamed and begged while his legs kicking and arms shuddering. His body was beyond his control, twisting and writhing so strongly that the chains groaned and contorted enough that his bones creaked in warning. The blows he managed would have been enough to take down a normal man, but the demons held on with not even a sound of discomfort.

A flood of involuntary tears began to pour from his eyes as the hands around his face slid down to join their brothers, the tide of pain rising and swallowing James like an ocean. His body was convulsing and arching seizing and mimicking a body under the arrest of an epileptic fit. Eyes rolled back showing almost entirely white. Slowly, barely discernable, threads of shadows and red began to seep and stretch across the whiteness until only a thick nimbus of color lay where his eyes where. James retched and thick gouts of blood began to pour out, mouth gaping open as he choked upon the fountain. Blood even poured out of his nose, eyes, and ears. More of it began to pool and seep with the waist and back of his pants, fluids seeping out of every open orifice.

DON'T GO TOO FAR. YOU'LL KILL HIM IF YOU DO.

--JUST A LITTLE FARTHER.--

The words were meaningless noise and grunts. James was deaf and blind, his heart seizing and attempted to beat raggedly. Organs were twisted and collapsing, unable to take the abuse, shutting down and failing to respond even if James managed to gain some sort of professional medical help. His body was becoming a useless and empty husk.

A dull but rumbling roar was filling the room. The very foundation was shaking like it was under the beating of a large fist. Wind tore and whipped its way around them, hurricane force gathering and growing with inconceivable might.

Both of the demons felt it, in that one moment. The brief, weak pulse. There, clustered deep and buried inside of James that it was almost too far for them to reach and seize.

NOW. DO IT NOW!

The Pyramid Head standing at the head of the gurney raised one hand in the air, raised up high in a similar action that he would perform when carrying the spear.

With a sharp and merciless strike his hand fell, sinking and twisting as it buried its way into the maelstrom of crimson and obsidian that burned along James' flesh.

In that moment, the human heart fell silent.

But something else thundered to life, and James gasped, body arching upwards as he felt it tear and roar through him.

And then all was silent.


^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^


WELCOME HOME, JAMES.

--NOW OPEN YOUR EYES.--

IT'S TIME TO TEACH YOU WHAT YOU NEED TO KNOW.

--TIME TO TEACH YOU WHAT YOU ARE.--


YOU'VE FINALLY WOKEN UP.

--HUSH NOW. IT HURTS, YES. BUT SOON IT WILL STOP.--

RIGHT NOW, YOU MUST RISE.


--YES.--

YOU'RE DOING SO WELL, JAMES. YOU MAKE US SO PROUD.

--BUT SOON YOU MUST CARRY ANOTHER IDENTITY. ONLY WE ARE ALLOWED TO CALL YOU BY YOUR TRUE NAME.--

SO SHOW US, JAMES. SHOW US WHAT NAME YOU ARE WORTHY OF.

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^


Alfred Collins was lost. And very, very pissed.

He cursed the broken down car that had run out of gas. Cursed the secretary who had slowed him down and made him an hour late. Cursed the mountain roads and the sudden fog that had risen and engulfed them until the man had finally been driving blind.

His soft gray business suit was wrinkled and dirty from the dampness of the fog and the strange cloud of ash that was falling steadily. Practically stomping his way down the mountain road with an empty gas canister in one hand, a cellphone in the other.

Relatively handsome, tall and fit with short brown hair clipped close to his skull and sharp blue eyes, most women and a few men were known to be holding significant interest with him. A smooth, classic sort of handsome features.

The smooth face was twisted in an ugly grimace of annoyance as he roughly punched the buttons on his cellphone, CERTAIN that he had just charged the damn thing not even yesterday. But it refused to respond the screen lit with a bright flat spread of white static.

He didn't look up as he passed the beaten and half-crumbling large sign on the side of the road. It wasn't like he cared wherever he was going. As long as it had a adequate gas station and an attendant that spoke relatively decent English, it would suit him just fine.

~WELCOME TO SILENT HILL~

Finally several minutes later he ended up stuffing the cell phone into the pocket of his suit jacket, barely making out the silent and looming sentries of buildings as he drew closer to the town.

It didn't take long for Alfred to safely determine that the place, for all better purposes, was abandoned. Run down and cloaked in fog, the place was a verifiable ghost town. Over half of the windows in each building were either boarded up from the inside or smashed inward. Cars rusted and sat dead on the streets choking under thick piles of ash. Display cases for clothing and furniture were stained black and warped with age. All just a dirty and useless mess.

"Just perfect." He sneered. What a bunch of help this place had to offer. Apparently it had and would offer no working gas pump that would offer him a one-way ticket out of this dump. The place should be bulldozed down to the ground and the skeleton left to rot.

A sound like a hesitant shuffle off to the left caught his attention.

He jumped, startled by the loud ringing clang of metal against brick. The top of a metal garbage can rolled out shakily into the street, and Alfred managed to catch sight of a long and ragged black coat flying as a figure disappeared down the alley between two buildings.

"Hey!!" Alfred shouted. "Hey you, stop!" He ordered, running after the fleeing figure.

As he ran into the alley, he saw that the person, what appeared to be a slim and pale-featured man, darting down a descending flight of concrete stairs into an open doorway at the end of the alley. Alfred scrambled to a hasty stop at the top of the stairs, making out the rough outline of the man disappearing into the dark gloom.

"Damn it!! I just want to ask where the nearest gas station is!" Alfred called out after the stranger angrily.

Silence greeted his loud burst of anger.

"Son of a bitch." He cursed under his breath, turning away from the stairs and doorway. The prospect of life in this place apparently had no sense or decency to offer him direction.

A soft, lilting laugh made him pause. The laughter floated out of the darkness.

"..alfred…" The voice was barely discernable, Alfred having to pause in order to listen.

"…Alfred…"

"Alfred."

"Son of a back-alley whore." The voice laughed softly.

Alfred's face flushed in anger at the ridiculing voice that whispered up from the darkness. "You little prick." He hissed, not caring to wonder how the voice knew his name. Taking the descending stairs one at a time, hand still on the empty jug, he promised to the empty darkness ahead as he descended into it, "When I get a hold of you, you little prick, I'll show you not to make a fool out of me."

The cellphone in his pocket gave a low and static-filled hiss and sputter, screen flashing black and white as he descended.


^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^


The building Alfred found himself in had to have been an old hotel. The etched moldings along the walls and pillars had seen better days. The carpet was worn, completely through in some areas down to the rotting wood panels. Various pieces of furniture were scattered and lay broken throughout the lobby and parlor. The few intact pieces of lounges and chairs were sagging and so entirely coated with dust that when his hand passed over the material it came back thick with the tacky material.

A wide arching set of stairs went up to the second story, and looked as if it went up even further. The building must be enormous. There were also several elevators stationed far away, but they were so old and dated that Alfred was certain it would take a miracle to bring them to life.

Alfred jerked when the cellphone started to emit a metallic squeal of gears and static, hissing wildly and the bright blue lights around the individual buttons and the screen flickered madly.

The stairs creaked overhead.

His head jerked up and Alfred caught sight of the figure striding down the walkway above on the second-story floor.

"HEY!" He shouted, darting for the stairs as the man's pace never faltered but quickened, ragged coat billowing after him as he took off down a far corridor.

Alfred took the stairs two at a time, within moments at the top and following the receding footsteps up ahead. He ran down the corridor, hastily peering down hallways and dead ends. Looking down at the floor beneath him, he could make out through the thick layers of dust, the inlay of shoes having trampled their way through.

Down another adjacent hallway, Alfred almost ran by without seeing the door that was swinging slowly to close.

'Got you!' Alfred thought in victory.

He caught the door before it managed to fully close, using his height and strength to force it open. Pushing into the room, he slammed the door shut behind him with a resolute bang. The force of the thick wood against frame sent out a small puff of dust from the cracks in the walls.

The room had to have been a master suite. Two large bay windows were set into the distant wall opposite of the door, the curtains hanging limp and dull with age along the glass panes. A large king-size bed was pushed firmly into the available space between the windows, dusty but fat plump pillows scattered around the surface. Tattered and worn thick blankets were twisted and fluffed about the bed. The room was empty of anything else.

Expect the man who was huddled against the foot of the bed; head bent at an angle so that Alfred could not make out his face.

Alfred sneered down at the ragged piece of trash crouched before him. "You little shit." He cursed. "You think this is some kind of game?" He demanded.

The answer he received was far from what he expected.

"Why not?" The voice was soft, mouth hidden underneath long strands of pale blond hair, "You enjoyed your games with those women." Through the cover of his hair and over the length of his forearm the disheveled man stared in Alfred's general direction. "Are you the only one allowed to have any fun?" He asked.

A bitter gorge rose up in Alfred's throat. No, it couldn't possibly be… "I have no idea what you are talking about." Alfred insisted angrily.

"Oh, but you do." The man persisted, slim hands holding the tattered edges of the long black jacket around him, arms clinking softly as if there was something metallic hidden under the too large sleeves. "Tell me, did you kill those prostitutes just because they were there, Alfred?" The man asked calmly, "Or was it that they reminded you of your mother? The mom who sold her body for profit. The same woman you suffocated in her sleep with a pillow."

"Shut up!!" Alfred hissed.

The game of cat and mouse had quickly shifted. The role of aggressor had alternated to the raggedly dressed stranger who appeared totally weak and without an ounce of worth but who made Alfred cringe with loathing and disgust from both his mannerisms and his words.

"You enjoyed it, even when they begged. Their screams were like a symphony to you, weren't they?" The man rose to his feet, standing at the foot of the bed with his arms still wrapped around his waist. "It made you hard between your legs. The power you received from your acts and the revenge you brought down upon those women are etched within your flesh and across the filth that lies in your soul. Your sins are lust, gluttony, and wrath." The man drew himself to his full height, although several inches shorter than the one standing near the door, "Your answer to the crimes you are challenged with?" He asked.

The man was obviously a lunatic. Alfred's disgust grew even further.

'But a clever one,' A voice whispered warningly, 'Everything had been so careful, so well-planned. Not even the police know about the bodies.'

"Just shut your fucking mouth…" Alfred's threat hung loudly between them.

The man ignored the warning, humming softly to himself, nodding as if listening to distant voices. "He denies it. Like the others. But all the same…" Alfred couldn't see the man's face, but he could sense that he was looking in the taller man's direction, "Your hands are still covered in their blood."

Alfred's hand that was holding the empty gas canister whipped around and slammed into the side of the bent figure's head. The man emitted a weakl and muffled gasp of surprise, stumbling to his knees and then falling onto his side. A trembling hand cradled the side of his face where the bruise was most likely beginning to spread while his flesh swelled with the fevered mark of a sharp impact.

Alfred glared down at the huddled man, feeling a small trickle of delight at the man's weakened state from the blow. It had been almost too easy to strike the man and send him crashing helplessly to the ground. Weaker than any of those bitches he had strangled with his bare hands or anything that had been within easy reach. "Tell me when it hurts, you pathetic piece of shit." He spat viciously down at the huddled figure.

The crouched man shook his head carefully, strands of hair shuffling about and pulling back to reveal small glimpses of pale skin and a thick band of fabric that was wrapped snuggly around his head, completely covering his eyes. The dark fabric against such pale skin made his flesh appear deathly pale and his lips ripe and flushed.

"What the--you're blind." Alfred said in disgust.

The man laughed softly. "No, no. Not blind. After all…" He lifted his head, one corner of his lips puffy and a trickle of blood seeping out of his mouth. "I can see you, Alfred Collins."

"You're insane." Alfred insisted furiously as the man rose unsteadily to his feet, hand still held to the injured portion of his face.

"Maybe." He acquiesced. The man smiled, teeth painted pink from the spilled blood in his mouth. "And you're dead."

'…What?'

Something in the air seemed to shift and thicken around them. Alfred's blue eyes widened in incomprehension and fright as the pale sky outside began to churn steadily and grow darker and darker as if being swallowed by a rising maw of darkness. Frantically he felt behind him for the door handle, twisting and pulling but finding it resisting his desperate efforts to pry it open.

The cellphone in his pocket was going mad. Vibrating and shrieking a metallic and painful scream. Alfred tore it out of his pocket and threw it away from him, banging and kicking at the door.

"Don't bother. It's not like you'll have anywhere to run." The man warned him. He was now sitting down and sliding backwards onto the bed until his back was to the wood headboard. Alfred stared dumbly at the links of metal chains and manacles that slipped out of the cuffs of the man's pants and jacket that were attached to each limb, the ends of the chains appearing to have been torn away from some sort of mounting. The silver metal contrasted sharply with the shabby pair of loosely tied boots, loose black jeans that had open slits along the thighs, knees and calves. He was nearly swallowed by the worn black jacket that was clearly two sizes too large, the shirt underneath the jacket clean but an unimpressive slate gray. Catching how Alfred's attention was on the manacles around his wrists, the man grinned slightly and raised his arms above his head, the chains clinking softly.

"Your sins and fears bind you."

Alfred pressed back against the door, the container in his hand falling from slack fingers. "What the hell are you?"

A small laugh.

"My apologies. My manners have been of little use over such a period of time, that I forget myself. I am Sin." He said, as the darkness spread through the windows and into the room, a tangible presence as it swallowed the two men whole with a whisper of noise that sounded like a sharp breathless exhale.

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^


James wasn't blind. On the contrary, he could see magnificently well even through the fabric. The material was really there in order not to scare away any humans that would possible enter into the realm of Silent Hill. It wouldn't do to ruin the surprise of what they would eventually face and challenge. With his vision, it was like the cloth wasn't even there. He could even see through the darkness that had settled throughout the room and building and that had settled throughout the entire town.

Only he was capable of moving between both realms unattended. His other companions could, if they really and truly desired. But they enjoyed the other area too much to leave it behind for the gray world unless James called out to them. They allowed him his leisure explorations as long as he never attempted to leave Silent Hill.

The human was huddled against the door, head darting in various directions, blind and unable to discern his surroundings. He wasn't able to witness the paint melting off of the walls to reveal slanted black metal or the pieces of rug ripping free from the ground and floating towards the ceiling. Steel grates appeared in the floor, a few lit softly by the bright fires that burned well below the surface of Silent Hill. The bed remained exactly the same while the drapes melted into slick and damp stretches of plastic that dripped down into pools of crimson upon the floor.

But James' attention was not on any of that, really. He was more focused on the limbs and torso that began to melt and reform in a far corner inside of the room. The familiar tall form, the butcher's apron boots and gloves, the bare chest that rippled with muscles and with the occasional old lacerations and scars. Pyramid Head stretched his body like he had awoken from a long sleep, arms stretched to the side and away from his body and right hand holding the long spear, the helmet arching back to reveal the yawning darkness at the bottom of the open helmet.

The human turned his head in the direction of the hollow exhales of air that Pyramid Head released when his body had completely formed. Pyramid Head moved soundless away from the human and towards James, the spear dropping to the ground with such a loud sound that the human jumped and cringed. The demon cared little about the human that had wandered foolishly into the trap, more focused on the man sitting upon the bed. James' venture through the town had left him wandering from the two for almost three days.

James smiled and fell back until he was flat on his back, head nestling into the nest of pillows. Sensing the other demon's intentions, he quickly and efficiently kicked off the loosely tied boots. The pants were loose enough that with a few twists of his hips and a certain degree of arching they slid past the hip bones and rested just above the patch of light curled hair.

The bed was made of strong resilient material to be able to hold not only James but also the other demon's heavier body. It was astounding how Pyramid Head's shoulders, neck and body easily supported and moved the large helmet with ease. The larger demon kept it from hitting James with quiet effort. James would have liked to have clasped the demon too him, as they were wont to do on many occasions, without the helmet. Sadly, it wasn't the time for that with a human being so close to them. The human wasn't nearly capable of handling the awe and magnitude of such as sight. He also didn't deserve to see it.

"Tell me." James whispered softly, too low for anyone other than the demon above him to hear, mouth close to the bottom of the helmet where another mouth was so temptingly close, "Did I do well? Have I brought a good one?" He asked, sliding his arms up and circling the broad shoulders.

Pyramid Head carefully ran a gloved hand over the swollen and damaged portion of James' face and mouth, fingers chasing and catching the fresh trickle of blood as it skated across pale skin. --YES.-- Pyramid Head answered.

James sighed, letting his head fall back and turn into the hand pressed against his face as a firm body slid between loose jeans. The demon's other hand slid down to tug the black jeans and briefs down far enough that James was able to untangle one leg while the other limb lay bound by the constricted fabric. A small sound of need and expectation mewled from the smaller man as his hips were arched back so that Pyramid Head could slide further into the cradle of his thighs, the material of the apron slick and smooth against the sensitive inner flesh.

His head arched as he was penetrated with the firm press of the demon's hand, the rocking motion smooth and solid without causing unnecessary pain. Discomfort was little, unless the need was too great and demanding. James' body was always eager and ready for the heat and the touch. It was all necessary and willing; it was what he craved, what they all had and craved.

Life was good. Really good.

The apron was nearly thrown off and curled over Pyramid Head's hip and thigh as he too began to fall into the thrall of flesh and heat. It wasn't long before the hand pulled back and something much larger and more persistent steadily pushed past the ring of muscle that guarded James' entrance. A firm and long lunge forward and Pyramid Head was buried deep, James' thighs quivering and clutching tight to a firm waist.

Mouth open in an expression of wonder James' hands clenched and anchored onto the shoulders above him, arching as a firm hand cradled his lower back to hold him steady. The chains attached to James' ankles trailed down the back of Pyramid's uncovered flanks and the chains attached to the smaller man's wrists trailed down his upper arms.

--SAY IT.--

-- EVEN IF YOU SAY IT ABOVE OR BENEATH ME.-- (1)

James groaned softly from a hard and electric thrust, his entire body jolting from the motion. "I-I- I'm here. I'm where I'm supposed to be."

--SAY IT.--

"I'm real." James said, dots of fine sweat breaking across his skin. "I won't run away anymore. I've accepted who I am."

Pyramid Head stilled for a moment. The pause made James twist and writhe beneath him, hands tugging persistently, wordless demanding him to move. He took delight in the way James called out to him, to them, just as they called to him.

It had all become so perfect.

Amazing what could happen when one simply stopped fighting the inevitable.

--YES.-- His voice was a hiss of pleasure. He met James' gaze from under the helmet, sulfurous eyes meeting another. Giving in finally he leaned down further to allow James to reach up and hold tightly to him while his own arms circled the smaller form until they were both bound within flesh and chains and cloth.

It felt right, but another was missing. Soon, though, that too would change.

--AND NOW…MY BROTHER WILL PLAY.-- He promised.


^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^


The room had become some sort of nightmare.

Alfred was pressed so firmly into the sealed door that he could feel splinters digging into him through the cloth of his suit jacket.

'What the fuck is this?!' He demanded. No answer came.

His vision was poor but he could finally begin to see in rough detail what was occurring, nowhere near as capable as James was though. The room had melted and reformed into something twisted and a mockery of anything decent and sane. The damn floor was gone in areas where only metal grating kept him separated from some sort of hellish fire that was burning below. The walls were cold to the touch but parts were damp and crumbling. Alfred quickly drew his hands away, trying to rub the filth off of him.

He had to be hallucinating.

There was no way any of this was real.

"……aaaa….haaaaa!!…Aaaahh…." Someone made a long drawn out sound of tension that ended in a low moan.

Alfred squinted, the dim light offering only minimal visual. The sound had come from where the freak had sat when the strange darkness had suddenly risen and consumed the room.

Something else from the same general area rumbled low like an echo across rough metal. A loud sound of something slick and heavy smacking into flesh and this time the voice from early almost screamed.

"HHnnn…st-stop tormenting me…" The voice from before begged with a thread of annoyance.

Dark rumbling laughter echoed the command.

'What the hell?'

Groping blindly Alfred checked his pockets, pushing past the nearly empty packet of cigarettes until he found the familiar smooth finish of his lighter. Jerking it free he flicked the starter several times until a steady flame rose from the tip, illuminating the nearly pitch black room with a warm gold glow.

He wished he hadn't.

The freak, 'Sin', was still upon the bed. But now he was disheveled and half-naked, jacket and shirt shoved up to create a pillow under his head. Jeans and briefs twisted around one leg with the other was bare except for one sock. The man's head was thrown back mouth open and panting deeply and hands gripping tight onto shoulders--

--Hanging onto some THING--

God, it couldn't possibly be human. The body was that of a man, maybe, but that, that, contraption on the head. The build on it was too large and massive to be attained by natural means. Whatever it was, beast, man, or demon, it had the smaller man pinned flat to the bed as it rocked and shoved itself tightly forward between pale strong legs and thighs.

It was like animals rutting. How two bodies, male bodies at that, could even fit and move against one another in such a manner without pain or blood being spilled between them…

The pace seemed to stutter and then quicken, the beast above leaning further down until its chest was pressed along the other's, one last and steady lunge before flanks and buttocks clenching tight and hips rocking in small tight circles. The freak's mouth was pressed firmly into the neck of the one above it, burrowing as close as possible and arms winding loosely around shoulders and neck. He was panting raggedly, a look of bliss on his face with eyes still masked by the dark strip of fabric but hardly hiding the wonder and look of fulfillment.

"Oh..fuck.." Alfred moaned in horror, clapping a hand over his mouth to hold back possible sickness.

The stupidity of his words was soon realized.

The two figures stilled, the large pyramid shaped head turned to the side as if to regard him, but Alfred could 'sense' the eyes that bore into him with a heavy weight that threatened to make his heart stop. A hand came down to brush the area where bruised flesh and bleeding lips were upon the male beneath him-

But wait. That wasn't true. The wounds upon the freak's face were gone, skin untainted and unmarked.

Apparently the demon hadn't forgotten the marks and was absolutely aware of who had brought them down upon the pale flesh.

"No. No." The freak stopped the demon from rising as it rose to kneel on its knees, bringing it back down to stretch over him and press him down into the mattress. "I know how badly you want to. But you both agreed. It's his turn now. You've got to be fair." A shift of a body and covered eyes regarded Alfred with flat but full intensity. "He won't escape."

As if waiting for a cue from the freak, the door behind Alfred was suddenly gone, torn clean off of its hinges. The crash of breaking and shattering wood echoed around him as he fell back. Just as quickly as he had been falling he was shoved forward and sent sprawling ungainly onto the floor inches away from open grating. He was stretched on his stomach limbs askew and trembling from the force of the blow that had shoved him further into the room.

Heavy footsteps thundered into the room to stop near his head, something large being scrapped and dragged across the floor. Shakily and ever so slow Alfred turned his face to the side and upwards, tracing the heavy dark boots, up the slick apron that was wrapped and knotted around the hips of a long and flat bare waist. The torso extended up to broad shoulders and long arms, neck instead disappearing into a familiar pyramid helmet.

Unable to believe his eyes Alfred whipped his gaze from the large bed in the room and back to the figure standing above him. Two. Two, two, there were more of these things.

This one offered a greater threat. In its right hand and between them, it bore a massive and long blade nearly as tall as it was. The great head was tilted down to face the fallen human.

Alfred's mouth opened and closed soundless, too stunned to speak, frozen and paralyzed in his terror.

"These two have been eager for someone like you to arrive." Sin offered helpfully. A hand stroked lazily along the arm of the male above him. "It must be hard for you to think or look upon them. If it's easier for you, since humans have such a need to give everything a name, you may refer to him.." He indicated the one pressed against him. "As Beast. And him…" Now motioning towards the one standing above and near his head, "As Fiend."

The one nearest to him shifted, and a voice rumbled from within the helmet and seemed to sink and twist his way into the interior of his skull.

ALFRED.

ALFRED COLLINS.

Alfred's limbs twitched, a sign that he was contemplating the possibility of fleeing for his life.

THERE IS NO ESCAPE.

--YOU HAVE ONLY MADE IT HARDER FOR YOURSELF, AFTER WHAT YOU DID TO ONE OF OUR OWN.--

Acid rose from his stomach as he remembered.

//Alfred's hand that was holding the empty gas canister whipped around and slammed into the side of the bent figure's head. The man emitted a muffled gasp of surprise, stumbling to his knees and then falling onto his side. A trembling hand cradled the side of his face where the bruise was most likely beginning to spread while his flesh swelled with the fevered mark of a sharp impact.//

"I--I…what is going on…? This isn't real, right? This, this place…It's Hell. It's got to be!" Albert babbled hysterically, shaking and trembling.

IT IS WHATEVER YOU BELIEVE IT TO BE.

BUT THE TIME FOR QUESTIONS IS PAST, ALFRED. YOU HAVE BEEN JUDGED BY OUR OWN, SIN. HOW DO YOU ANSWER?

"Fuck, fuck, fuck. This isn't happening. You have no right to hold me here. I don't belong here!!!"

--YOUR DENIAL BRINGS UPON THE INEVITABLE.--

"Do you see, Alfred?" Sin asked the trembling human upon the floor. When the human looked up towards him, Sin raised a hand, fingers circling the band of fabric around his head. With a sharp tug the material fell to pool within his lap. His eyes were closed, but Alfred lay spellbound as the eyelids purposely opened and finally stared straight back unhidden and aware.

Sulfurous pale-green light, a miasma a burning fire of intense heat, stared back at the human. Sin smiled, more of a snarl with just a baring of his teeth, "Do you see?" He demanded. "You came here, and now you can't escape us and you can't deny what you are." His hand flexed around the arm in his grip as he leaned forward towards the human's direction, "Do you see?!" He hissed. "Do you see what you bring upon yourself. Your words bind you to your fate!"

The demon standing above Alfred bent down, minutely. A hand slowly and inescapably began to fill the entire range of his vision, reaching towards him. There was no means of escape. It was as final and as cold as Death.

The voice held no mercy as it spoke while promising many horrors that made Alfred curl up into a ball, covering his head and screaming wordless against the floor.

TELL ME WHEN IT HURTS. The demon proffered to the mortal man.

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the end
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Author's note: Not near as good as I had hoped, but I give myself two out of five, for effort at least.

(1) That line? Comes roughly from a song/poem I wrote a while back. It's stored in my memories on my livejournal, but unfortunately only Friends can read it.