Categories > Games > Silent Hill > Story's End
/DISCLAIMER: /I still don't own Silent Hill, Konami does. Sexual advances don't loosen their vice grip over it either, I've tried. Moroi, Growl, and Moroi's psyche belong to me....Author's notes are at the end of this chapter.
Plate V
A Silent Hill fic by Q
thp thp thp thp.
Such was the sound of the girl's naked feet hitting the concrete surface of the chilly stairs. She climbed effortlessly, the head mounted light dancing in her rush. It's beam made seizuring movements against the cold, dead walls. She passed the door allotting entry to the second floor, and continued on. Moroi's room was on the third floor, after all, and maybe looking for the books from top down would be more effective.
Finally, the young asian girl reached the third stairwell. One above her would give her roof access, but really, what would be the point of going up there? No, Moroi opted to enter the third floor, and so she did.
The handle was oddly warm, as if someone had recently touched it. Moroi knew now that she wasn't alone. After all, she had encountered that 'nurse', and had heard sounds similar to those it made. Other 'nurses' lurked. Moroi did what she could to avoid them.
The door gave with a groan, and Moroi winced. Opening it just a sliver, the girl peered down the hall, left, then right. Nothing but dim corridors lay before her, and that was fine with Moroi.
With a motivating inhale, Moroi pushed the complaining door open farther, slipping out of the stairwell and letting it shut numbly behind her. The patient approached the door separating her room's wing from the rest of the hospital.
What Moroi saw tacked to the door made her breath die lackluster-ly in her small throat.
Plate V.
Rorschach's fifth ink blot card. Moroi shied away slightly. She hated Plate V. Most claim to see a bat or a butterfly, and Moroi could see the interpretation, yet too, she could see movement. Figures dancing around in a sick, depraved dance, snuffing life from one another, or sometimes carnal drives would take over.
Moroi wished to look away, yet her bright eyes were compelled to stare at the offending blot. It shifted before her eyes, engaging in its lustful swirl. Moroi's eyes narrowed, wishing to blink, but somehow denied.
The blot of harmless ink smudged. No-..it leaked. The darkness upon the stiff, over-fondled paper began to expand from all directions, the dancers and killers approaching the border between ink and the corporeal world. Oily patterns swirled within the murk, and the ink finally reached the lower edge of the page, dripping onto the the tile in the form of a thin rivulet. As it made contact with the ground, it's impact made one very distinct sound.
'Torpor'
Slanted, almond shaped eyes widened as large as possible, fear pushing salty water to her lids. Moroi turned and ran, fearing for her life.
Torpor, the place she went to when sedated by the Brookhaven staff, the place all her dark denizens resided. Torpor was a place of pure evil, where Moroi housed all the negative characters and personas. Torpor sent the sins of her mind...
The colourless pattern on the door exploded outwards, blackness rushing after the girl, devouring all it could. Walls, floors and gurneys all vanished within the pit that was this Torpor Tsunami. From the edge of this wave came tendrils, and horrible, cruel hooks, claws, and wings. It knew that without Moroi's conscious state, Torpor would be free.
Moroi ran as quickly as she could, not thinking about where she was going, or her goal of finding Coleman's books. No, she just had to run from the blackness inside her head.
Her body slammed against the end of the hall, the force of the collision sending a wave of pain through her whole frame. Thin shoulders danced with the heavy breaths her form needed to sustain itself. Moroi looked back, hearing the seductive cries from within Torpor. A hoarse scream tore from her throat and she jumped as the mass of the shapeless wave crashed into the wall inches from her. The girl pushed from the wall, heading down to her right.
Above the coaxing din of Torpor, Moroi heard a very distinct sound: A ding.
She heard the elevator doors at her left and ahead slide open, and she dashed.
A claw of Torpor gripped Moroi from behind, filling her nostrils and pulling her head back. At the speed the young woman was going, the force caused Moroi to fall back, feet sliding out from under her. Her skull crashed heavily against the tiled floor, and she screamed, forcing her eyes to stay wide. Closed eyes meant sleep, a detachment from reality. And that meant Torpor won.
The girl, while in a heightened state of panic, managed to keep her focus on the elevator just beyond Torpor's borders.
"We're a part of you," Hissed the inhabitants of Snailgirl's locked and keyed psyche. "you're a part of us..."
"IIE!" Screaming out in her native tongue, Moroi Kagyuu focused on the pinpoint that was the real world. Moroi snarled, knowing that she was the one in power here, and not Torpor. This wasn't a story, and even if it was, now was the time to allow one of the graver writing errors.
"Hai-YA!" Curling her knees to her chest, Moroi kicked out with all her strength, breeching the darkness touching her feet and letting cracks of normalcy spider web their way through out the vileness. The evil crumbled away at that spot, and the pained Torpor release it's hold on Moroi, who escaped through the broken Fourth Wall.
She squealed with a laugh of success as she ran from the beast, dashing the few feet to the elevator. Moroi skid to a halt at the invite of the open doors, the elevator was stopped between floors. Below her was the roof of the elevator, which seemed to be stuck just shy of floor two.
Two options now wafted quickly through Moroi's head. The first was to jump, and possibly risk a broken bone, the second was to stay where she was, and possibly risk a broken mind. Thankfully, bones heal, souls, free will, and trauma does not.
Moroi leapt down the shaft without hesitation. Her feet made stiff, sore impact with the metallic roof of the cart with a clang. Yet for a jolt to her person, Moroi was otherwise unharmed.
A thick sludge oozing down the shaft wall reminded Moroi of her plight, and the girl looked up, seeing a new wave of Torpor beginning to seep into the shaft. Moroi narrowed her almond eyes, quite fed up with this ebony leak. With a defiant smirk, she waited for Torpor to come for her.
With a cry, Moroi threw up her hands, middle fingers and thumb tucked in, pointer and pinky out. She crossed her delicate snail hands over at the wrists, her middle arching back to meet the slime head on. It splashed against her arms, crying in agony as it was pushed back by the sheer force-of-will that the Snails brought the girl. Torpor broke, pounding against the shaft walls and running down like lifeless torrents of dirty water. Monsters cried as their person was exorcized from Moroi's imagination. Soon, the girth of Torpor was spent, and nothing but little puddles still dripped down the long, square tunnel. Moroi panted, brows furrowed, and mind buzzing with a dull sensation of freedom. She puffed out a final cleansing breath, before uncrossing her Snails, and righting herself.
With a ding, the second floor doors to her right split open, and Moroi stepped back onto Brookhaven floors.
7:56pm
Sun July 11th/04
Notes:
Plate V, or Plate 5 is the fifth inkblot in Rorschach's inkblot test. It is a simple black blotch that resembles a bat or a butterfly. It's reported that to see moving forms in this particular blot is a sign of schizophrenia.
Torpor- A state of mental or physical inactivity or insensibility. Lethargy; apathy. The dormant, inactive state of a hibernating or aestivating animal.
Plate V
A Silent Hill fic by Q
thp thp thp thp.
Such was the sound of the girl's naked feet hitting the concrete surface of the chilly stairs. She climbed effortlessly, the head mounted light dancing in her rush. It's beam made seizuring movements against the cold, dead walls. She passed the door allotting entry to the second floor, and continued on. Moroi's room was on the third floor, after all, and maybe looking for the books from top down would be more effective.
Finally, the young asian girl reached the third stairwell. One above her would give her roof access, but really, what would be the point of going up there? No, Moroi opted to enter the third floor, and so she did.
The handle was oddly warm, as if someone had recently touched it. Moroi knew now that she wasn't alone. After all, she had encountered that 'nurse', and had heard sounds similar to those it made. Other 'nurses' lurked. Moroi did what she could to avoid them.
The door gave with a groan, and Moroi winced. Opening it just a sliver, the girl peered down the hall, left, then right. Nothing but dim corridors lay before her, and that was fine with Moroi.
With a motivating inhale, Moroi pushed the complaining door open farther, slipping out of the stairwell and letting it shut numbly behind her. The patient approached the door separating her room's wing from the rest of the hospital.
What Moroi saw tacked to the door made her breath die lackluster-ly in her small throat.
Plate V.
Rorschach's fifth ink blot card. Moroi shied away slightly. She hated Plate V. Most claim to see a bat or a butterfly, and Moroi could see the interpretation, yet too, she could see movement. Figures dancing around in a sick, depraved dance, snuffing life from one another, or sometimes carnal drives would take over.
Moroi wished to look away, yet her bright eyes were compelled to stare at the offending blot. It shifted before her eyes, engaging in its lustful swirl. Moroi's eyes narrowed, wishing to blink, but somehow denied.
The blot of harmless ink smudged. No-..it leaked. The darkness upon the stiff, over-fondled paper began to expand from all directions, the dancers and killers approaching the border between ink and the corporeal world. Oily patterns swirled within the murk, and the ink finally reached the lower edge of the page, dripping onto the the tile in the form of a thin rivulet. As it made contact with the ground, it's impact made one very distinct sound.
'Torpor'
Slanted, almond shaped eyes widened as large as possible, fear pushing salty water to her lids. Moroi turned and ran, fearing for her life.
Torpor, the place she went to when sedated by the Brookhaven staff, the place all her dark denizens resided. Torpor was a place of pure evil, where Moroi housed all the negative characters and personas. Torpor sent the sins of her mind...
The colourless pattern on the door exploded outwards, blackness rushing after the girl, devouring all it could. Walls, floors and gurneys all vanished within the pit that was this Torpor Tsunami. From the edge of this wave came tendrils, and horrible, cruel hooks, claws, and wings. It knew that without Moroi's conscious state, Torpor would be free.
Moroi ran as quickly as she could, not thinking about where she was going, or her goal of finding Coleman's books. No, she just had to run from the blackness inside her head.
Her body slammed against the end of the hall, the force of the collision sending a wave of pain through her whole frame. Thin shoulders danced with the heavy breaths her form needed to sustain itself. Moroi looked back, hearing the seductive cries from within Torpor. A hoarse scream tore from her throat and she jumped as the mass of the shapeless wave crashed into the wall inches from her. The girl pushed from the wall, heading down to her right.
Above the coaxing din of Torpor, Moroi heard a very distinct sound: A ding.
She heard the elevator doors at her left and ahead slide open, and she dashed.
A claw of Torpor gripped Moroi from behind, filling her nostrils and pulling her head back. At the speed the young woman was going, the force caused Moroi to fall back, feet sliding out from under her. Her skull crashed heavily against the tiled floor, and she screamed, forcing her eyes to stay wide. Closed eyes meant sleep, a detachment from reality. And that meant Torpor won.
The girl, while in a heightened state of panic, managed to keep her focus on the elevator just beyond Torpor's borders.
"We're a part of you," Hissed the inhabitants of Snailgirl's locked and keyed psyche. "you're a part of us..."
"IIE!" Screaming out in her native tongue, Moroi Kagyuu focused on the pinpoint that was the real world. Moroi snarled, knowing that she was the one in power here, and not Torpor. This wasn't a story, and even if it was, now was the time to allow one of the graver writing errors.
"Hai-YA!" Curling her knees to her chest, Moroi kicked out with all her strength, breeching the darkness touching her feet and letting cracks of normalcy spider web their way through out the vileness. The evil crumbled away at that spot, and the pained Torpor release it's hold on Moroi, who escaped through the broken Fourth Wall.
She squealed with a laugh of success as she ran from the beast, dashing the few feet to the elevator. Moroi skid to a halt at the invite of the open doors, the elevator was stopped between floors. Below her was the roof of the elevator, which seemed to be stuck just shy of floor two.
Two options now wafted quickly through Moroi's head. The first was to jump, and possibly risk a broken bone, the second was to stay where she was, and possibly risk a broken mind. Thankfully, bones heal, souls, free will, and trauma does not.
Moroi leapt down the shaft without hesitation. Her feet made stiff, sore impact with the metallic roof of the cart with a clang. Yet for a jolt to her person, Moroi was otherwise unharmed.
A thick sludge oozing down the shaft wall reminded Moroi of her plight, and the girl looked up, seeing a new wave of Torpor beginning to seep into the shaft. Moroi narrowed her almond eyes, quite fed up with this ebony leak. With a defiant smirk, she waited for Torpor to come for her.
With a cry, Moroi threw up her hands, middle fingers and thumb tucked in, pointer and pinky out. She crossed her delicate snail hands over at the wrists, her middle arching back to meet the slime head on. It splashed against her arms, crying in agony as it was pushed back by the sheer force-of-will that the Snails brought the girl. Torpor broke, pounding against the shaft walls and running down like lifeless torrents of dirty water. Monsters cried as their person was exorcized from Moroi's imagination. Soon, the girth of Torpor was spent, and nothing but little puddles still dripped down the long, square tunnel. Moroi panted, brows furrowed, and mind buzzing with a dull sensation of freedom. She puffed out a final cleansing breath, before uncrossing her Snails, and righting herself.
With a ding, the second floor doors to her right split open, and Moroi stepped back onto Brookhaven floors.
7:56pm
Sun July 11th/04
Notes:
Plate V, or Plate 5 is the fifth inkblot in Rorschach's inkblot test. It is a simple black blotch that resembles a bat or a butterfly. It's reported that to see moving forms in this particular blot is a sign of schizophrenia.
Torpor- A state of mental or physical inactivity or insensibility. Lethargy; apathy. The dormant, inactive state of a hibernating or aestivating animal.
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