ATTN PLZ: So, these used to be separate oneshots of mine. I’ve just consolidated them into this one story collection. Sorry for any confusion.

Disclaimer for once and for all stories: I don’t own Silent Hill. I just like writing Silent Hill fics. Some of these might have hints of shipping, others won’t; I’ll define the pairings, lack thereof, and genre at the start of each chapter/oneshot.

“Jewelry Box”
Heather/Vincent. Angst.

There was a tune playing in the distance…something slow, windy and beautiful. It was not unlike the tune that a jewelry box would play, she thought, as she stepped out onto the ballroom floor, her fists clenched full of the fabric of her pure white gown as she did so. With a twirl she danced right into his arms, allowing him hold her about her waist, his hands enclosing over her own as he spun them both around whimsically. Laughter--that was the music that now mixed with the jewelry box tune and filled her ears, causing her to smile as he spun her around to face him, before pulling her up against his body, where his hands came to rest at the small of her back.

“You look absolutely beautiful…” he growled into her ear, his voice low and husky.

“And you are just as handsome.” she replied, before moving her hands up and running her long fingers through his sandy-toned hair. “My Vincent.”

The glasses-clad man smiled back down at her, before placing his mouth to hers.

“And you are my Heather…” he murmured against her soft, pale lips, before kissing her softly, his hands roaming up and down her back as he did so.

As the kiss continued, the blond-haired young woman entangled her fingers even more deeply into his wavy hair, moaning when Vincent let his lips move from her own to instead graze over her neck.

“I love you…” she breathed out, sucking in a quick breath of air when she felt him bite her gently.

He nipped at her again in response, the jewelry box tune become increasingly louder now that the laughter had died away, the only other sounds in the room now being the occasional moans coming from herself and the subsequent groans coming from her Vincent. Her Vincent. Hers. She had wanted nothing more than this for so long, and now that he was finally here, she hardly dared to believe it…

“Vincent…” she began, breathing out his name as he kissed her on her collarbone. “Is this real? Are you going to stay with me forever this time?”

“Yes, my Heather, forever…” he answered, murmuring against her skin as he pulled her up even more closely against him. “Forever, and ever…”

His lips left her collarbone to recapture her lips once more, before he suddenly took hold of her hand, spinning her out and away from him. Laughing once again, the short-haired girl paused and turned back to rejoin him, but gasped, a cold, hollow feeling arising within her when she saw that he was no longer there.

“V-Vincent?” she asked, her eyes wide in fear, one hand nervously going to her hair as her other hand found its way to her bosom. “Vincent, where are you?!”

The jewelry box tune grew louder and louder the more she yelled, and soon Heather found herself to be positively screaming at the top of her lungs, her voice growing hoarse and her lips becoming chaffed from the onslaught of tears that now streamed from her eyes.

“VINCENT!”

Still, the tune played on, almost as if mocking her torment.

“VINCENT, WHERE’D YOU GO?!”

On and on it played…louder and louder and louder…

“VINCENT, I NEED YOU!”

Heather awoke with a start in her bed, her breathing labored and a cold sweat all over her body. She looked over to the side of her bed at her bedside table, where a little wooden jewelry box--a childhood gift from her father--sat, the top opened up as the little ballerina inside it slowly twirled around, an almost sickeningly sweet, windy tune playing over and over again as it did so.

“Damn it…” she said in a voice just above a whisper, tears stinging her eyes as she reached over and picked up the box.

It had been nothing more than a dream. Just a dream, just like all the others. Vincent was not with her, he would never be with her…

“Why’d you die on me you stupid bastard?!” the forlorn-looking young woman screamed at the top of her lungs, angrily throwing the jewelry box across the room, where it subsequently smashed against the wall, slightly splintering it's wood before falling to the floor.

Heather drew a long, shuddery sigh, before collapsing back onto her pillow, her fists clutched onto handfuls of her comforter as her tears began to fall.

“It was just a dream…”

She sighed again as she pulled the comforter even higher, so that it was covering her head.

“And I wouldn’t mind the dreams so much…” she spoke aloud in a voice softer than a whisper. “If my waking reality wasn’t such a nightmare.”