Quiet Observations
folder
+S through Z › Silent Hill
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
1
Views:
3,604
Reviews:
1
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
+S through Z › Silent Hill
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
1
Views:
3,604
Reviews:
1
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
Silent Hill is owned by Konami. No money is being made off of this fanfiction. Heather Mason and Harry Mason belong to Konami, and so does Valtiel. >_> I've been told he eats interns there on a daily basis.
Quiet Observations
AN: This fic was inspired by a picture a user posted on the SH Het group.
Quiet Observations
Harry Mason is not a man who is easily startled. Having seen all manner of things in his 49 years, he has grown a hard shell around his fears. Until tonight, there were very few times he was truly startled in his life, post a certain incident in a small time. Now, there were two recent instances of that only in the span of a few hours. The first was getting impaled through the back by a monster, summoned by the heir of one of his old enemies. The second was tonight, several hours removed, when he walked in on an unusual, disturbing site.
He had walked in here to explore, hoping to find something of use. Instead he found something that shattered his sanity for one brief, soul-stricken moment.
The demon was human-shaped, with pasty purple skin and lean, defined muscles. He is sitting in some old chair barely recognizable in the shadows. With his robe colored brown like burlap, he reminded Harry of the bodies he had seen in the Otherworld long ago. He was naked, almost, wearing nothing beneath his garment besides the black boots on his legs. And on top of him was Harry's daughter.
He watches as the demon took his beloved Heather with little remorse or hesitation. He wanted to run up and rip that thing away from Heather, but he knew that would only resort in death, sort of. He was already dead, but if the demon ripped him to pieces and sent him back to where he came from, he would really no longer be able to watch over Heather.
The more surprising thing was Heather's reaction. He was shocked when rather than resisting, he saw that Heather was actually embracing this thing with this being. What was most disturbing is that it was obvious this wasn't her first time. She was too excited visibly by the act. Either she adjusted quickly or else she had done some 'practicing' before. It sickened Harry, almost, to know his little girl was doing this of her own accord. Somehow he withstood the urge to retch, yet all he could do was stare. Was she that starved for comfort, that she would submit herself to this monster willingly? He would have preferred it to be anyone else, even that little creep Vincent who was running around, rather than this monster who didn't even have a face.
The monster's faceless head twitched as the sordid dance continued. Heather bucked furiously against the monster, uncaring of her nudity. This was his little girl, but she was still a woman. It was inevitable what was going to happen. Harry still had some innocent memories of Heather left. He would rather not sully them by seeing something he wasn't supposed to.
So he leaves them alone. If the demon isn't harming Heather, then it's really not his place to interfere. Heather will take care of herself if he does something dangerous. It goes against every one of his fatherly instincts to stand by and let his daughter put herself in this situation. But if Heather willingly chose to do this, then there was little he could do to stop her.
He doesn't hear what happens afterwards, as Heather spasms in the demon's grasp, her hips trembling around his monstrous organ. “Daddy,” Heather whispers, breathing hard against the monster's body. There are tears in her eyes, and her voice is nearly a sob. She can only look at the faceless monster's visage, thinking of her father, wishing it was him underneath her, and not this pathetic substitute of a monster.
Quiet Observations
Harry Mason is not a man who is easily startled. Having seen all manner of things in his 49 years, he has grown a hard shell around his fears. Until tonight, there were very few times he was truly startled in his life, post a certain incident in a small time. Now, there were two recent instances of that only in the span of a few hours. The first was getting impaled through the back by a monster, summoned by the heir of one of his old enemies. The second was tonight, several hours removed, when he walked in on an unusual, disturbing site.
He had walked in here to explore, hoping to find something of use. Instead he found something that shattered his sanity for one brief, soul-stricken moment.
The demon was human-shaped, with pasty purple skin and lean, defined muscles. He is sitting in some old chair barely recognizable in the shadows. With his robe colored brown like burlap, he reminded Harry of the bodies he had seen in the Otherworld long ago. He was naked, almost, wearing nothing beneath his garment besides the black boots on his legs. And on top of him was Harry's daughter.
He watches as the demon took his beloved Heather with little remorse or hesitation. He wanted to run up and rip that thing away from Heather, but he knew that would only resort in death, sort of. He was already dead, but if the demon ripped him to pieces and sent him back to where he came from, he would really no longer be able to watch over Heather.
The more surprising thing was Heather's reaction. He was shocked when rather than resisting, he saw that Heather was actually embracing this thing with this being. What was most disturbing is that it was obvious this wasn't her first time. She was too excited visibly by the act. Either she adjusted quickly or else she had done some 'practicing' before. It sickened Harry, almost, to know his little girl was doing this of her own accord. Somehow he withstood the urge to retch, yet all he could do was stare. Was she that starved for comfort, that she would submit herself to this monster willingly? He would have preferred it to be anyone else, even that little creep Vincent who was running around, rather than this monster who didn't even have a face.
The monster's faceless head twitched as the sordid dance continued. Heather bucked furiously against the monster, uncaring of her nudity. This was his little girl, but she was still a woman. It was inevitable what was going to happen. Harry still had some innocent memories of Heather left. He would rather not sully them by seeing something he wasn't supposed to.
So he leaves them alone. If the demon isn't harming Heather, then it's really not his place to interfere. Heather will take care of herself if he does something dangerous. It goes against every one of his fatherly instincts to stand by and let his daughter put herself in this situation. But if Heather willingly chose to do this, then there was little he could do to stop her.
He doesn't hear what happens afterwards, as Heather spasms in the demon's grasp, her hips trembling around his monstrous organ. “Daddy,” Heather whispers, breathing hard against the monster's body. There are tears in her eyes, and her voice is nearly a sob. She can only look at the faceless monster's visage, thinking of her father, wishing it was him underneath her, and not this pathetic substitute of a monster.