|Desolation or Salvation?
Author: Fritz Will Get You PM
Pyramid Head thought his existence was over after James left, but when a creature that is the spitting image of him sans helmet falls at his feet, defeated and lost, he discovers that maybe he still has a purpose. Valtiel x Pyramid Head? Eh. Take a look.Rated: Fiction M - English - Horror - Chapters: 2 - Words: 4,741 - Reviews: 31 - Favs: 23 - Follows: 13 - Updated: 04-23-07 - Published: 04-18-07 - id: 3497169
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
Hello, it has been quite a while since I've been here. I'd appreciate it if you wouldn't maim me with angry things about not updating the other stories... I'm just not interested in them yet. I haven't completely abandoned them, just not too enthusiastic about them at the moment. I'm sure you all understand. As for now...
Okay, so this hit me not too long ago and I wanted to give it a shot. No matter what I'll still add on to this, but I thought that you would all like to read this too, blah blah blah.
For all of you who decided to tune the above stuff out, at least read this little part below:
This is kind of a blend between the movie verse and the games. I am familiar with all of them, but if I get something totally out of whack feel free to (politely) tell me and I'll fix it. In this version of Silent Hill there are people at the church (I love their interactions with Pyramid Head :D) and they do roam around the town when it's not all crusty and evil for food. More will be explained later. At the beginning of each chapter I'll try to do my best to answer reviews. And I do have some of an idea where this is going, but some things will be confusing until I get to that point, so bear with me.
Okay, disclaimer. I don't own any of them, nothing at all, but I did make a plushie Pyramid Head doll that is mine. That's it.
Thanks. Enjoy it!
He was not a victim of this town, nor was he a survivor. He was a manifestation of guilt long gone, left to wander in the gloom and satisfy his insatiable hunger upon the other poor saps that got trapped with no way out. The humans learned to stay away whenever they heard the metallic dragging of his weapon or saw him walking down a hall. They were smart, but everyone slipped up sometime. Then he would be waiting for them. It had happened once or twice with the more foolish of the bunch, but they were learning. They had even given him a name. Granted, 'Pyramid Head' didn't sound too fearsome, but it was an accurate description.
He had been given a body, one decidedly masculine, and the ability to wield a knife that was as big as a full grown man. Covering his whitish dirty skin was a bloodied butcher's apron that barely hid his toned body. Over his head was a giant metal pyramid, thus providing basis for the nickname. Striking terror in the hearts of monsters and humans alike was a given. He used to have a purpose. He had a reason for existing. But now… he had no motivation. Nothing was keeping him in the foggy town. Nevertheless he stayed.
Pyramid Head's booted footsteps were muted by the mist as he ambled down the road. Up ahead he could sense a figure, hidden by the haze, coming towards him. This was a first. No one had willingly approached him before. He couldn't make out much, but the being lurched forward in an erratic stumble that none of the other monsters could reproduce. Each step seemed to be a major struggle as the creature staggered across the pavement. Even though it was getting closer Pyramid Head could still not make out any familiar features. And he could not sense any fear or hate, only… familiarity. Like he had encountered this creature before.
With a soundless cry the being fell at his feet, upper body twitching sporadically. In the fog its skin was a pasty white with red stains, defined muscles moving under the skin smoothly with each spasm. Its head, however, was a tanned brown color and looked like it was made of some kind of leather. There was no face or features, just the smooth leather and a long seam with stitches at the back. It wore brown clothing that resembled a dress that ended just above black boots much like Pyramid Head's. In fact, this creature could easily be mistaken for the tormentor at a glance.
Intrigued, Pyramid Head dropped his knife and kneeled down in front of the fallen thing, prodding its shoulders with a gloved hand. It twitched a little then went still. Tattooed onto the shoulders were familiar symbols that Pyramid Head did not fully understand. It was the same symbol that marked the floor of the room where he had last seen James, the room where he had died and been discarded. He had thought that the symbol meant nothing now, but here it was again on a creature he had never seen before. One that could pass as his double.
With the familiarity he could sense pain, fresh as newly fallen snow. A physical and emotional pain that ravaged this creature's body like a sickness. For once Pyramid Head felt something that he could not place. He had seen it in the human's eyes before. What was it? When someone close to them lost something, they got this feeling. Was it… pity? Yes, that seemed to be it. Pity. What an odd feeling. Why was this creature making him feel pity?
Something spoke to him, made him stoop down and pick up the lithe body and abandon his knife. He would be able to find it again. Right now this creature needed him. It was an odd feeling, being needed. He was not feared for once. Instantly the being settled into his muscular arms, featureless face turned towards the stained apron. Pyramid Head still did not know what he was doing, but he found himself starting towards the abandoned hospital. The nurses there would leave them alone, he was sure of it, and the humans did not dare venture near such a hellish place.
Both were silent as Pyramid Head trekked to the infirmary. His burden was warm against his chest but it wasn't an unwanted feeling. The fog seemed to part for them and in no time at all the giant dilapidated building was in sight. Just as his boots hit the top steps the siren perched atop the church sang, bringing the darkness upon the two. This happened often, the switch between the foggy world and the Otherworld, so it did not come as a surprise when the hospital came back into view, decrepit and bloody. A few headless bodies lay on the steps, bleeding out over his boots. Irritated, he kicked them away and continued through the glassless doors.
Once this hospital was bright and cheery, full of pleasant staff and a general sense of healing; now it was a decrepit, filthy place full of twisted deformed monsters that brought death upon everything they touched. The Otherworld was where Pyramid Head had been born, where he thrived and terrorized the other tortured souls stuck with him. Every time the humans heard that siren they knew their life was in terrible danger, and if they did not get back to their church he would have his way with them. He had little use for the church and their religion.
The being shifted and twitched before falling still again, arms hanging limply towards the ground. Pyramid Head altered his hold on the smaller body and headed for one of the empty rooms. The nurses were nowhere to be found, which was unusual. Normally the disfigured women would huddle in groups, hidden in the shadows, waiting forever to strike. Pyramid Head and the Nurses crossed paths multiple times but they always ended in his favor.
Various medical equipment were scattered in the halls, many with flesh hanging off the needles and decaying bodies on the blood soaked gurneys. Finally he came to a room with an empty, relatively free of blood, bed with tattered sheets and a really sad looking pillow. With little care he dropped the creature on the bed and stepped back to examine it with minor concern of the growing decay the room had suddenly changed into.
It was pitiful, really. If it had a face it would probably be contorted in pain. Its pain rolled off it in waves, washing Pyramid Head every time he drew near. But it was not just physical pain, it was emotional as well. The familiar tinge of despair was a comfort to him, but what puzzled him was the fact that the only opportunity he had to encounter this feeling was when he was tormenting the humans. This was the first time a monster had presented him with this sensation. Even the monsters borne from human beings eventually lost all emotions after awhile. What made this one so special?
Something wailed down the hallway, echoed off the walls and curled around the doorway as if asking for an invitation to join the party. Pyramid Head waved it off, not caring if the nurses were making their rounds again. He had other things to attend to. This creature was sick and in pain, and, although he wasn't sure if monsters could actually do this, had a chance of dying if they lingered here for too long. This hospital only brought death to its patients. If he was going to have his way with this creature he would have to first bring it back to consciousness, a task that was lost on him as a tormentor. But if the ignorant, weak, feeble minded humans could take care of their own he surely could accomplish this small task.
The scream echoed through the halls again, and a familiar twinge of annoyance rose up in him like an itch he could not scratch. A low growl escaped his metallic mask and his fingers curled in the air, which reminded him of his misplaced weapon. Not that he needed his Great Knife (although why it was great he was still puzzling that one out), but when the others heard the methodical metallic scraping down the hall it sent a clear message.
The creature on the bed shifted fluidly, straining upwards as if bound to the bed by its arms and legs. Slowly it rolled onto its side towards Pyramid Head and extended a misshapen hand towards the bloodstained smock. With a cold shock the tormentor noticed the similarity between his own hand and this creature's. He reached out with his own gloved hand and, almost hesitantly, maybe gingerly, touched the melded fingertips with his own. They were so alike…. The creature's hand fell limply into his own; he resisted the urge to cover it with his other hand. Too many feelings were crowding out the normal pleasure he derived from this despairing atmosphere: now he only felt confused with a strong urge to keep this creature from harm.
Could he do it? Was he actually going to attempt to do exactly the opposite of which his very existence was based on? Would he help this dying, dejected creature? He dropped the hand and watched it dangle lifelessly towards the floor. Was he looking at what he would become? Would he eventually rot to the point where he could not stand and be forced to barely function as this? It was a chilling thought.
Something gurgled behind him, and angrily he turned to come face to face with one of the nurses; a hideous bubbled face with a seductive stained body barely enclosed in a low cut nurse's uniform, wielding a rusty dented piece of pipe. This was hardly a threat to Pyramid Head, but to the twitching figure on the bed this nurse could easily be a hazard. She was stepping towards the bed in her high heels, arm reaching out in a seemingly tender gesture. The creature shrank back from her touch and let out a low, tortured growl as it thrashed around on the musty sheets. Pyramid Head, without thinking, grabbed the back of the nurse's head and pulled her back, taking her neck and turning it quickly with rough precision. She screeched as she died, falling to the floor with a muffled thump.
They could not stay here any longer; with this nurse more would come. It would not be a problem for Pyramid Head, but if he was occupied with the group the still being on the bed could be swept up and taken away in the confusion. Without considering this further Pyramid Head gathered the creature in his arms again and stepped out into the hall. He wasn't surprised at what he saw.
At least twenty nurses stood in the small space, each wielding some form of weapon and teetering on bloodstained high heels. Pyramid Head turned and found more behind him, pressing in on all sides like a vice. He would have none of this; he wrenched the nearest nurse closer to him and tossed her like a limp rag doll, holding the creature close to him to ensure that he wouldn't be snatched away.
Instead of fleeing like they usually would have, the nurses screeched in anger and advanced even more, attempting to take Pyramid Head's burden even if it meant their death. This was puzzling but more annoying, and with a furious roar Pyramid Head took hold of another nurse with a long black extension that came from his helmet, strangling her before ripping her head from her body. In his arms he held the creature, batting away the hands that reached out to grab it. He could see the end of the corridor but it was a long ways off. It seemed that for once Pyramid Head would have to exert his full force to get rid of these nurses once and for all.
As the monster prepared to set down the creature and full on attack the group of nurses a horrible, drawn out siren wailed, bringing everything to a screeching halt. The hall was plunged into a sea of darkness once more as the siren continued to drown out the moaning of the nurses, eventually falling silent as the light arrived again.
Pyramid Head was now standing in a gloomy hospital hallway, dusty wallpaper cracked and peeling over the fractured tile. The bloodstained gurney was now clean and covered with a fine layer of cobwebs. All of the nurses had retreated, leaving the two alone yet again. He felt slightly disappointed that he hadn't been able to continue their interaction but the creature in his arms shifted and prompted him back to his present position.
Carelessly he stepped onto the decapitated corpse to outside, pausing at the top of the stairs to stare at the foggy streets. The mist left tiny water droplets on his skin, the tiny pricking sensations the cold made barely registering in his mind. Pain was something he created in others, not something he usually felt himself, and even bullets were dulled to such an extent that he rarely took notice of them and the little damage they did to his physique. No, he was devoid of emotions, filled only with a drive to punish and execute. The lingering need to destroy, hurt, and contravene would never leave.
James had given him an outlet for these needs. With James's guilt he had been able to satisfy his deepest cravings, but the pleasure only lasted for a few moments before being swallowed up by his purpose again. It was an endless cycle. Want, crave, need, punish, execute…. Freedom. He felt free for a brief moment, the moment the life left the souls of his latest victim, free from the mental bonds of his sadistic existence, unbound from the helmet that weighed down on his shoulders for all and eternity. Then the weight would fall back into place as the body fell to the floor, now useless and unwanted, and the want would start again, the want to fill out his purpose. It was an endless cycle.
With James he had been able to create a woman, a woman made of all the man's guilty desires, a woman that he was able to slaughter over and over again. James's anguish was beautiful each time she died. But even Pyramid Head knew that this state of affairs could only last for so long, and soon he found himself in that room with the odd symbol on the floor. That symbol. It was gone now, but every time he entered that room he could feel the design under his feet, calling out to him in his desolate, twisted existence. What did it mean? He knew that he already had the answer to that question, but the meaning was long forgotten in his cycle of want. James had made an attempt to save to the woman again, save her from him, but once again she died, and with her death soon followed his. James had tried to fight back. Luckily he had been freed from his guilt and was allowed to leave with Pyramid Head being punished instead. Granted, a spear through the throat would pose some problems in an attempt to continue living, but he did not die.
Pyramid Head had been freed from the sinister shadows of the Otherworld; however this freedom did not stretch far. The farthest he could go was the outskirts of the town, and even if he left the Otherworld that he had thrived in he would still be confined to the hazy streets of the less decrepit version of the town. For some reason he had not been destroyed when James had been set free, and now all he did was continue to satisfy his needs by using various monsters (mainly nurses or mannequins) or the more ignorant of the humans. It seemed that that was all he was meant to do from then on…. Until now.