Although she's finally left Silent Hill behind her, Alessa's powers still live on within her, and when she loses herself the world still changes.
If she was smart she would run, but she'd never been the type to flee from danger. She chased her monsters into any grubby, out-of-the-way, corner they tried to hide in, shot them down and smashed their skulls until there was no chance of their ever moving again. There were things in the world that just needed to be killed, and as long as they'd crept oozing and screeching out of her own mind she'd be the one to do it. She even enjoyed it, Vincent had claimed, and she hadn't been able to deny the claim.
But even she could admit that, yes, she should have run when a jagged, rusty, blade shot out of the darkness and through her throat, pinning her to the wall. As she reached up to try pulling her out, two more blades slammed through her elbows, then her hands, her feet, her knees. Even as the creature that had attacked stepped out of the darkness she continued to struggle, trying with all her strength to push her arms further long the swords, trying to reach the hilts so she could push them out of the wall and free herself.
She did not scream. This was only pain, and she'd been hurt so much worse in the past.
She did not scream until the twisted claw in the place of the creature's hand burst into flames as it pressed into her chest, filling her with its fire.
She startled awake, clawing at the hands holding her by the shoulders until her eyes adjusted to the darkness enough to make out Douglas's face. Then she went limp, sagging back against the cot he'd set up for her in his home office.
"Pretty bad nightmare?" he asked, awkwardly shifting himself from kneeling over her into a sitting position, his cast-encased not easily going along with the movement.
"/I'll/ say." She swiped her hand across her forehead, wiping away the sweat, then peering up at him, suddenly realizing that she should be concerned about him being up. "Was I screaming? Sorry if I woke you."
"Nah, you didn't make a peep. I knew because, well, take a look around."
He leaned over her to flip on the lamp by her bedside. She squinched her eyes against the sudden brightness then slowly opened them to look around her.
The walls were pulsing in time with her heart beat, and blood was slowly dripping down them from the ceiling.
"...Oh." She realized she was blushing, and told herself to stop it that instant. "I'll just... figure out a way to stop that, then."
"If you don't mind, I think I'll stay in here until you do that. With this leg of mine in the state it's in, I'd rather have my own action hero around if a monster suddenly jumps up than trying to take it on my own." He shifted until he was sitting at the head of the bed beside her and could lean against the wall, blood and all, and reached out to ruffle her hair.
"You old guys, always trying to make us young people do all the work." She leaned against his shoulder, making herself feel comfortable, making herself feel safe, using him to start dissolving the feelings that warped the world around her. Then she closed her eyes and started to try finding the switch deep inside of her that would make everything go back to normal.