Silent Hill 3 Story: Eventually Take Me
Eventually Take Me
“I Love you.”
Harry smiled as his daughter returned the goodbye and hung up the phone. He glanced back at the papers on his desk and started to flip through a few of them. He’d been getting some of his notes organized when his daughter had called to tell him she’d be home soon. She hadn't gotten the envelopes he’d asked her to pick up but he wasn’t really concerned about that. He’d get them tomorrow.
The manuscript for his new book was just about finished and ready to send off but it still could use another read over before that. It was one of the ones he liked to write. A mystery story, he wouldn’t call it his best work but it had been easy to write and he felt the story was good. It had been a bit of peace after his last story anyway. His publisher had managed to get him to write another horror story for that one.
Harry knew better than anyone else that those stories he wrote were better than his mysteries. How many times had his publisher called him and tried to convince him that he could be the next big thing in horror if he just stuck with one pen name and gave up the mysteries and other stories. Harry had always just brushed away the advice, reminding the man that he was only doing this because he liked writing and not because he wanted fame.
In fact that was the absolute last thing he wanted.
The few times he’d been convinced into writing horror stories, the price that came with that was too high. They made more money, which was probably the only reason Harry had even wrote them at all after that first try. The sleepless nights that came with them. Freezing in cold sweat whenever he heard static, coming close to panic when he heard sirens or saw fog. …The nightmares were no treat either. He was sure he annoyed Heather as well. He’d always got more overprotective and worried when he wrote them. He couldn’t help it.
He shook his head. He didn’t need to be thinking about that right now. His story was logical. There was a crime, there was detective, the detective solved the crime, lived to the end of the story and everything was explainable by logic. No fog, no sirens, no other world in sight.
He smiled as he flicked through the last few pages before shuffling them together and placing them off to the side. He might get Heather to take a look through them when she got home. She’d really been trying lately, he could tell. Before she’d gone through a phase where everything he did was wrong. Hanging out with the “wrong” crowd they’d call it.
It had worried him of course, but at the same time it had been something of a relief. This was normal. This is what normal teens and normal fathers went through. There was nothing other worldly about it in the slightest. On top of that, he knew her. He knew it had been a phase she was going through. So he’d waited it out and soon enough she was awkwardly trying to pretend she hadn’t snuck out of the house in the middle of the night just a few months ago.
Harry glanced at the clock after putting the papers away. It was still too early to expect her back yet. Too early to start supper also.
Maybe they could go out for something to eat tonight. He could probably talk her into being seen with him now anyway. He had to chuckle to himself at that before getting up and walking out into the living room. Well his work was done for the day anyway. Walking over to his chair, he picked up the book he’d bought a few days ago and sat down. He tried to avoid reading new books until he’d finished his own but since he didn’t need to worry about that now, he could start this one.
He settled in and opened to the front of the book.
--
It hadn’t been very long after that, maybe twenty, thirty minutes later, when he heard the door open. He was only a few chapters into his book but he put it down.
“Hey honey, back from…”
He trailed off as a he heard another set of footsteps walk into the room.
Something was wrong. Not just because of the footsteps, a feeling of ….horror? Something, his skin was crawling and he was about to get up when he felt a firm hand on his shoulder.
“I’m afraid not Mr. Mason.”
Harry tried to turn and look to his side, but the figure walked out in front of him. For a moment he thought that woman was in front of him. But after she turned to look at him he realized she looked almost nothing like her. …there was that same presence around her though.
“Who are you?” Harry finally spoke up. He could feel another presence behind him but didn’t look back. His survival instincts were kicking in. He hadn’t felt this way since…
“We come from Silent Hill.”
Of course.
“She’s not here.”
The woman shook her head. “Oh we already know where Alessa is. I spoke with her just a little while ago in fact.”
Harry froze.
“…..what have you done with my daughter?”
The woman glared at him. The hatred in her eyes was so raw and angry Harry almost missed her first reply.
“She is not your daughter.”
“Yes. She is-” Harry was cut off as the woman moved forward and slapped him. Hard.
“The child is going to fulfil her role as it has been foretold. And you are going to serve your own role as well, Blasphemer.”
Harry narrowed his eyes. “She’s got nothing to do with any of that. Where is my daughter?”
The look on the woman’s face was one of disgust.
“You steal away our hope. You hide her away from her true calling. You deny the world its salvation. For all of these reasons and more you will spend your days in eternal torment.”
“She is my-“ Harry opened his mouth to say but the woman pointed at him.
“She is not. Nor has she ever been your daughter. She belongs to the world. She will lead us into the glorious new order and you Harry Mason are nothing more than a thief, an infidel who will be purged from this world so that we may have our salvation.”
The presence behind him moved closer and at that moment Harry realized he was going to die. Calmly, quietly he looked up at the women in front of him with her smug grim and her hateful eyes.
“Cheryl will always be my daughter. And nothing you say will change that.”
The smile dropped from the woman’s face and her hands clutched into fists.
“Kill him.”
The moment she said that and before he could move, Harry felt the presence behind him shift suddenly and the next moment he was leaning forward as a blade impaled him. And then again, and again. Whatever person, monster, creature or thing this was. It was inhumanly fast.
A moment later he was grasping his side and the blood poured from his wounds. He didn’t know how many times he’d been stabbed, but it was enough that his vision was already starting to fade and he was breathing heavily.
“Good Bye. Harry Mason.”
The woman’s voice was on the edge of his vision as his heavy breathing started to slow. He leaned against the back off the chair. He was dying. He was dying and his daughter was out there, somewhere. Alone. He closed his eyes, ignoring the wetness on them and his hands as he felt his blood continue to drain. He was leaving her. As much as he’d tried to protect her, it hadn’t been enough.
He was dying.
He’d be seeing Jodi then.
The image of his wife holding onto little Cheryl’s hand and her laughing smile appeared in his mind’s eye. And then he saw Heather, his tall blonde, almost grown daughter smirking as she waved at him before leaving the house just this morning. And-
And- she was wearing her locket.
She had her locket. She was a strong capable girl…..
Harry opened his eyes, and looked up to see Claudia standing there through the black haze of his vision. Cruel smirk back on her face, it vanished the moment Harry quietly spoke up.
“She’s not going to do it.”
And before the woman could reply, he turned his head and let it fall to the side. A moment later his breathing stopped completely.
The book he’d started reading, lay forgotten on the table next to him. To be found later by a distraught young girl crying over the cruel murder of her father once everything else was over.
“I Love you.”
Harry smiled as his daughter returned the goodbye and hung up the phone. He glanced back at the papers on his desk and started to flip through a few of them. He’d been getting some of his notes organized when his daughter had called to tell him she’d be home soon. She hadn't gotten the envelopes he’d asked her to pick up but he wasn’t really concerned about that. He’d get them tomorrow.
The manuscript for his new book was just about finished and ready to send off but it still could use another read over before that. It was one of the ones he liked to write. A mystery story, he wouldn’t call it his best work but it had been easy to write and he felt the story was good. It had been a bit of peace after his last story anyway. His publisher had managed to get him to write another horror story for that one.
Harry knew better than anyone else that those stories he wrote were better than his mysteries. How many times had his publisher called him and tried to convince him that he could be the next big thing in horror if he just stuck with one pen name and gave up the mysteries and other stories. Harry had always just brushed away the advice, reminding the man that he was only doing this because he liked writing and not because he wanted fame.
In fact that was the absolute last thing he wanted.
The few times he’d been convinced into writing horror stories, the price that came with that was too high. They made more money, which was probably the only reason Harry had even wrote them at all after that first try. The sleepless nights that came with them. Freezing in cold sweat whenever he heard static, coming close to panic when he heard sirens or saw fog. …The nightmares were no treat either. He was sure he annoyed Heather as well. He’d always got more overprotective and worried when he wrote them. He couldn’t help it.
He shook his head. He didn’t need to be thinking about that right now. His story was logical. There was a crime, there was detective, the detective solved the crime, lived to the end of the story and everything was explainable by logic. No fog, no sirens, no other world in sight.
He smiled as he flicked through the last few pages before shuffling them together and placing them off to the side. He might get Heather to take a look through them when she got home. She’d really been trying lately, he could tell. Before she’d gone through a phase where everything he did was wrong. Hanging out with the “wrong” crowd they’d call it.
It had worried him of course, but at the same time it had been something of a relief. This was normal. This is what normal teens and normal fathers went through. There was nothing other worldly about it in the slightest. On top of that, he knew her. He knew it had been a phase she was going through. So he’d waited it out and soon enough she was awkwardly trying to pretend she hadn’t snuck out of the house in the middle of the night just a few months ago.
Harry glanced at the clock after putting the papers away. It was still too early to expect her back yet. Too early to start supper also.
Maybe they could go out for something to eat tonight. He could probably talk her into being seen with him now anyway. He had to chuckle to himself at that before getting up and walking out into the living room. Well his work was done for the day anyway. Walking over to his chair, he picked up the book he’d bought a few days ago and sat down. He tried to avoid reading new books until he’d finished his own but since he didn’t need to worry about that now, he could start this one.
He settled in and opened to the front of the book.
--
It hadn’t been very long after that, maybe twenty, thirty minutes later, when he heard the door open. He was only a few chapters into his book but he put it down.
“Hey honey, back from…”
He trailed off as a he heard another set of footsteps walk into the room.
Something was wrong. Not just because of the footsteps, a feeling of ….horror? Something, his skin was crawling and he was about to get up when he felt a firm hand on his shoulder.
“I’m afraid not Mr. Mason.”
Harry tried to turn and look to his side, but the figure walked out in front of him. For a moment he thought that woman was in front of him. But after she turned to look at him he realized she looked almost nothing like her. …there was that same presence around her though.
“Who are you?” Harry finally spoke up. He could feel another presence behind him but didn’t look back. His survival instincts were kicking in. He hadn’t felt this way since…
“We come from Silent Hill.”
Of course.
“She’s not here.”
The woman shook her head. “Oh we already know where Alessa is. I spoke with her just a little while ago in fact.”
Harry froze.
“…..what have you done with my daughter?”
The woman glared at him. The hatred in her eyes was so raw and angry Harry almost missed her first reply.
“She is not your daughter.”
“Yes. She is-” Harry was cut off as the woman moved forward and slapped him. Hard.
“The child is going to fulfil her role as it has been foretold. And you are going to serve your own role as well, Blasphemer.”
Harry narrowed his eyes. “She’s got nothing to do with any of that. Where is my daughter?”
The look on the woman’s face was one of disgust.
“You steal away our hope. You hide her away from her true calling. You deny the world its salvation. For all of these reasons and more you will spend your days in eternal torment.”
“She is my-“ Harry opened his mouth to say but the woman pointed at him.
“She is not. Nor has she ever been your daughter. She belongs to the world. She will lead us into the glorious new order and you Harry Mason are nothing more than a thief, an infidel who will be purged from this world so that we may have our salvation.”
The presence behind him moved closer and at that moment Harry realized he was going to die. Calmly, quietly he looked up at the women in front of him with her smug grim and her hateful eyes.
“Cheryl will always be my daughter. And nothing you say will change that.”
The smile dropped from the woman’s face and her hands clutched into fists.
“Kill him.”
The moment she said that and before he could move, Harry felt the presence behind him shift suddenly and the next moment he was leaning forward as a blade impaled him. And then again, and again. Whatever person, monster, creature or thing this was. It was inhumanly fast.
A moment later he was grasping his side and the blood poured from his wounds. He didn’t know how many times he’d been stabbed, but it was enough that his vision was already starting to fade and he was breathing heavily.
“Good Bye. Harry Mason.”
The woman’s voice was on the edge of his vision as his heavy breathing started to slow. He leaned against the back off the chair. He was dying. He was dying and his daughter was out there, somewhere. Alone. He closed his eyes, ignoring the wetness on them and his hands as he felt his blood continue to drain. He was leaving her. As much as he’d tried to protect her, it hadn’t been enough.
He was dying.
He’d be seeing Jodi then.
The image of his wife holding onto little Cheryl’s hand and her laughing smile appeared in his mind’s eye. And then he saw Heather, his tall blonde, almost grown daughter smirking as she waved at him before leaving the house just this morning. And-
And- she was wearing her locket.
She had her locket. She was a strong capable girl…..
Harry opened his eyes, and looked up to see Claudia standing there through the black haze of his vision. Cruel smirk back on her face, it vanished the moment Harry quietly spoke up.
“She’s not going to do it.”
And before the woman could reply, he turned his head and let it fall to the side. A moment later his breathing stopped completely.
The book he’d started reading, lay forgotten on the table next to him. To be found later by a distraught young girl crying over the cruel murder of her father once everything else was over.