~Silent Hill: World of Madness~ Ch. 2: Guilty Soul
Whoo, chapter 2!!!! We've made it two whole freaking chapters! But sadly, there will be many more to come (sorry short-story fans). Thanks for all who have read up to this point. Feel free to message me if you ever want to talk to someone sick and twisted, or if you have any criticizm. I'll always take opinions. So, with no more ado, let is continue to chapter two!!!“He-he called me,” Deirdre said with a sniffle, curled on the couch with her knees up to her chin. Tamara laced her arm behind her, combing her fingers through Deirdre’s hair to soothe her. “He told me…that h-he didn’t want to be alone.” Deirdre said as she wiped her face yet again. “He was…seeing things. Having hallucinations. He said he was a-afraid to be by himself…” She went to wipe away her tears once more, but was stopped by Tamara as she brandished a box of tissues towards her in an attempt to save her hands from being sullied with even more eyeliner stains. Deirdre accepted and brushed the liquid from her cheeks. “H-he was in bed when I got there,” she explained to Tamara through sobs. “He a-asked me to s-stay with him. To watch over him…but I…” She stopped mid-sentence, burying her face shamefully in her hands as she began to weep pitifully. “I fell asleep,” she cried. “And when I woke up, h-he was g-gone…and I f-found him in the living room…” As her friend erupted into fits of miserable sobbing, Tamara wrapped her up in her arms. She laid Deirdre’s head on her lap as she stroked her hair. “It was b-because of me,” Deirdre wept. “Because I-I wasn’t the-ere, h-he died. If I had b-been there, if I had watched o-over him like h-he asked me to, he would still be ali-ive.” She gripped Tamara’s jean miniskirt in her fragile white hands, burying her face in the fabric. Tamara was overcome with pity for her friend, lying vulnerable and wailing brokenhearted. “There was nothing you could do,” She said to Deirdre in a low voice. “You did all that you could, sweetie…none of this was your fault.” A few moments of silence passed, Deirdre’s sobs having at last calmed to small airy gasps. She lay still on her friend’s lap, staring catatonically at nothing in particular with her large glassy eyes flooded with tears. In her mind, she was replaying the scene over and over again… “You’re lucky,” Deirdre spoke at last to her friend, although she did not look at her. “You’re lucky you didn’t see him…he was…he was horrible.” She closed her eyes, her brow furrowed as though she was trying to block an image from her mind. “His face was covered in gashes, like something had just torn him to pieces. And there was so much blood…everywhere, just blood…” The girl began to shiver, the trauma of the situation tempting her to curl into a tight, insecure ball. “Something was cut into his chest,” she spoke off-handedly. “I don’t know what it was…but it was deep…gouged…” Tears began to fall down her face once more, although she did not sob. Her expression remained cold and aloof, almost catatonic, as she stared at the wall unmoving. *~*~/< SH>\~*~* Tamara took one last look before closing Deirdre’s bedroom door. She lay on her bed, silent and sleeping, peace at last finding its way if only for a few hours. With that equanimity, Tamara shut the door and stepped out into the hallway, stumbling slightly in her exhaustion alone. Would it be possible for her to sleep at all? She wondered to herself as she shuffled her way into her own bedroom. It hardly mattered now. The sky was already beginning to glow with a purple illumination, the impending sunrise a sad reminder of time and its horrible tricks. Tamara sighed as she lay down on her bed, listening to the sounds of the city just beyond her window. She almost feared the prospect of sleeping. The last time she had let herself succumb to slumber, she was awakened with tragedy. Perhaps these were her nightmares coming to life… Yeah, right…she thought to herself as she slipped off her socks and covered herself in a thick blanket. Maybe when I wake up, this will all have been just a dream. Just one, big, horrible dream… ----- Deirdre sat near the wall, her head lying against the window sill as she stared out into the cruel world just beyond the glass. Her fingernails scratched away bits of paint from the filthy, half-rotten walls, the hideous wallpaper peeling away piece by piece. Her eyes were magnified to at least twice their original size--something that was quite impressive considering their natural dimensions. The shadows beneath them reflected sleepless hours and tears. Her catatonic expression reflected nothing less than misery. Like a zombie…a walking zombie making its way through life, unfeeling and cold. Cold as the headstone on Vikk Kovaleski’s grave. A small chunk of the wall came loose in Deirdre’s hand, crumbling like dust in her grip. She rubbed it between her fingers before noticing another substance--black, thick, and fluid like. It seeped from the wall little by little, smaller than the slightest trickle of blood from a wound. It created a small black mark on the wall, smaller than the tip of one’s finger. Deirdre touched it cautiously, staining her skin black as she did so. ----- In the realm of Tamara’s wandering mind, this sleepless night brought long lost thoughts back to her consciousness. Memories, long dismissed but never truly forgotten. “He said he didn’t want to be alone.” She heard Deirdre’s voice in the blackness. “Seeing things…having hallucinations…” It was only then, in this dreamlike shape of hers, that she realized something she would have never remembered in the waking hours. This was not the first and only time… ~xXx|xXx~ The phone rang; once…twice…a third time. “Deirdre, can you get that, hun?” Tamara called through the bathroom door as she ran a brush through her damp hair. She heard the sound of footsteps sprinting from one side of the apartment to the other, the phone ceasing to ring as the young girl answered. After making the last stroke and shaking away the excess water, Tamara hung up her towels and exited into the hallway. The phone was missing from its holster. Deirdre’s bedroom door was closed shut. This was peculiar of her… “No, no, it’s okay.” Tamara heard her friend’s soft voice from within the confines of her bedroom. “You’re not bothering me…It’s alright, I understand…hmm?…Again?…You can’t just keep waiting around forever. You have to--…yes, I know. But I just worry about you…I know…Y-yeah, I can, that‘s fine. Right now?…okay…Alright, I’ll be over in about fifteen minutes. Is that okay?…okay…see you soon, Vikk.” With that, the phone beeped as she turned it off, the small red light on the holster disappearing. Tamara made herself scarce, running into the living room with a flourish and pretending to lounge on the couch as though she had been there all along. Deirdre came stepping out of her room, buttoning the front of a long black overcoat. “Ever try wearing colors?” Tamara said smartly to her friend as she passed her. With an air of annoyance, Deirdre rolled her eyes. “I’m going out.” she said. “Just gonna meet Brianna for a movie or something…don’t know when I’ll be back, so ahead and lock the door. I’ll just take my key.” Tamara raised her eyebrows. Brianna, indeed… “Okay,” she said at last. “I guess I’ll see you tomorrow then…Have fun.” As though she sensed the distrust, Deirdre smiled only weakly at her companion before grabbing her keys and heading out the door without another word. ~xXx|xXx~ Tamara sighed. The daylight was slowly beginning to peek into her window, a gathering of rain clouds moving in to quickly hide it from view. The world itself seemed to be shrouded in a dark cloud. Something was different--something that she could not put her finger on. It was a mysterious feeling, a foreboding emotion that smothered her but still remained peculiar. Things were changing… Alright, my lovelies, I would like to take a moment to explain some of the icons that will appear throughout this series. You may have noticed an icon that looks like this: *~*~/< SH>\~*~*. That is a sign that represents two things; a change of time, or a change of both time and place. Also, now and then I have five dashes, like so: ----- That symbolizes a change of place/character POV, but not time. And for flashbacks, I use a symbol like dis: ~xXx|xXx~ Just making sure that we were clear on that, as it’s likely I will be using them quite a bit. Thank you for your time, my beloved forgotten souls. ~x ~D.D~x~
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