As the countless nights skim by, I perpetually stalk she who will birth God. And as each countless nights skim, I grow weak. Weak? This is ludicrous, weak. I know the meaning, but I have never felt it. Not until now. Weakness.

I am indestructible. I am sacred. I am worshipped. I am everything. I am a mere servant.

What would those religious crazed people think if they knew the things I dream about? The things I worship? The things I feel? Do they know I feel? I could care less. Lesser they will always be, less than me. Lower than the servant.

I create with my own blood rusted hands. I resurrect with the very fibers of my being. But what I cannot do… is breathe.

For a discomforting amount of heavy time, I watched the meat girl Heather bleed and scream and fight and breathe. Her actions and details perplexed me. Like the way she turned for a backwards glance at the kills she made, or the warm smooth flesh of her legs as I dragged her away for a resurrection. It made me-- I envied her on a reasonable level. I have and always will be cold and breathless but the task she has bore upon me is pushing the boundaries I thought that I never had.

Of the few beings that enter Silent Hill, they all share one thing. Mortal blood. This salty crimson fluid; I stretch it, bend it, and revive it. But I can never have it. I can never entirely know pain or pleasure. These complicated creatures could never compare to any of my characteristics. Not until I watched her.

I stalked moreover than I thought I had. There. Again, I am forgetting. Forgetting? Only humans carry out such foolishness. The deed was to watch and guard the God within her. But my task became an error. I watched and guarded her instead.

Her imperfections are – dare I say – glorious. I let her see me when I chose, only so that my own imperfections weren't revealed.

Imperfections? I have imperfections now too?

For the first time, I do not understand. I don't think I want to understand either. Unlike many humans, Heather doesn't lie. She doesn't hide any of her faults. She is a wonder.

On occasions I feel grief now. I suppose its grief anyhow. When she sleeps, she cries for her father. She cries and cries until her limp convulsing body cannot weep anymore. Is it pity that I feel for her? These absurd new oddities are truly fascinating. But are they wrong?

It is time now.

Time to conclude my watch, my wait, and my want. Their freak God was born dark and unnatural just like them. And I helped. I helped her. As I had placed the veil over the monstrosity's face, I –in a sense– masked the creature of all hope of being revived.

So from afar I watched as my precious fought her battle, as my Heather annihilated all immortality from my soul. And after she wept again for her lost father, through the silence and darkness of this forsaken town… I approached.

The boogeymen are coming.

She saw. She gasped. She breathed. As did I… I breathed.

Stay with me.

She's seen me before; she knows I won't harm her. Good girl. Stay.

Safe and ignorant.

I smell no fear. Just pain, loss, and regret. But why? She has it all. She has her freedom…

Stay with me.

Her bruised hand lifts and takes mine. Does she know? She has to know. She surely knows. I squeeze her softness in return and she begins to leave, looks back and smiles. Smiles. She thanked me. She thinks I'm done.

Hold you and protect you from the other ones.

I'm hardly finished as her guardian. I am indestructible. I am worshipped. I am her servant.

Go back to sleep.

I am Valtiel. And she is mine.





Glad I got this off my chest, wow. By the way YES if you awesome people have figured it out by now, I was inspired by the phenomenal song "Pet" by A Perfect Circle. This is just one of my many favorites from that band. Originally this was going to be based off the song "Weak and Powerless" but that one steers away from the 'inner conflict' Valtiel has in the little POV I created here. Whereas Pet virtually explains everything that Valtiel does. He protects her from the boogeymen.

I highly consider you to listen to this song. It's beautiful, it's blunt, and it's very Silent Hill in my opinion.

Sorry if it's short but this fiction sums it all up in my perspective. You can look at this anyway you like, because like the games… it's the way you see it.