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31_days2008-01-31 09:08 pm
rosehiptea.livejournal.com) wrote in 31_days2008-01-31 09:08 pm
[January 31] [Silent Hill 4] Inside
Title: Inside
Day/Theme: January 31/vague, tangled, chaotic, and exceedingly disturbing
Series: Silent Hill 4
Character/Pairing: Eileen Galvin/Cynthia Velasquez
Rating: PG
Word Count: 780
Note: This is set in an AU world that started in this ficlet, in which Eileen is in Henry’s role and Cynthia is in Walter’s. This story was also written for the theme “insides” at![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
100_women.
A hole leads to somewhere, or it wouldn’t be a hole. Eileen contemplates this fact as she stares at the bathroom wall. She’s been stuck in the apartment for something like days now with no food (though she doesn’t feel hungry) and no water (though she doesn’t need a bath). She remembers something like hours of screaming, pounding, trying to break the locks on the door, but now she’s nearly hit a state of la belle indifference. It seems only strange but true that she could die here.
There was a party on Friday, but Eileen can’t remember when that is, or when it was. In fact she seems to be losing the concept of time. But she’s still starting to think, as she stares at this hole, about whether whatever is on the other side could be any worse than this. And then she hears it.
“Come here…”
It’s her voice again, the one from the dreams, the woman who calls to her. Listening to this voice is probably the worst idea possible, but Eileen begins to crawl through the hole anyway. It takes forever, wriggling down through the stone. She doesn’t try to keep track of how far she has gone because she is certain she is going nowhere. But eventually she finds herself landing on cold tile in a place that smells of mildew.
She recognizes it instantly. It’s the ladies’ room in the subway station. When she was a child she came here often with her father. But the place is dead silent and freezing cold, and she can already tell she won’t be catching a train and getting out of here. When she opens the bathroom door her suspicions are confirmed – this place has never been this empty and everything seems wrong: the colors, the sounds. For a small moment she wishes her father were here to hold her hand.
Then she hears breathing and the click of clawed footsteps. Some kind of animal is moving toward her, a dog-like thing but too big, and a hideous shade of green. It drools and growls at her, but when she picks up a piece of broken concrete it slinks away around a corner. Eileen heads down the hallway to where the turnstiles should be. She has no token though, and no ticket, and even if there were a train she thinks she’d rather not go wherever it would end up.
Then she sees her in the shadows, the woman. Eileen stares at her for a moment.
“Do you remember my name this time?”
“Cynthia…” Eileen breathes.
“You came!” Cynthia is beautiful, even standing in this horrific place. She’s dressed in a short skirt and a blouse with a deep neckline, as if she wants to catch someone’s eye, and her long brown hair flows over her shoulders. And now Eileen knows that something else is very wrong, because Cynthia is a dream and she isn’t asleep. This woman shouldn’t be here, and she certainly shouldn’t be smiling.
“Are you stuck here too?” Eileen asks, though she knows that’s not it.
“I am here,” laughs Cynthia. “Here is me… you’re inside me now Eileen.” She picks up Eileen’s hand and kisses it. “Welcome to my world.”
“You’re crazy!” Eileen says, but she doesn’t back away just yet.
Cynthia picks something up from the ground beside her. It’s a doll, torn and dirty.
“Emily!” she says.
“Oh, she has a name after all?” Cynthia says.
Eileen still remembers that moment, years ago, when she was a child staring at a bench here in the subway, realizing that the lump under a filthy blanket was a person. She could barely see anything but tangled brown hair. It had seemed so sad to her that anyone had to sleep in a cold subway station and be dirty and lonely. So she had put Emily down on the bench.
“Leave that woman alone,” her father had said. And then Eileen had realized that this was a woman, and wondered if she was anybody’s mommy.
“Emily’s mine now.”
Eileen stares at Cynthia as the woman hugs the tattered doll.
“I was so jealous of you, walking through here with your father on your way to somewhere else. And you grew up to be so pretty, didn’t you?” Cynthia strokes Eileen’s hair. “I’ve been watching you.”
At those words Eileen’s wits come back to her and she begins to run back toward the bathroom and the hole in the wall. Maybe that’s still Cynthia’s world – she doesn’t know what the hell is going on anymore. Cynthia herself doesn’t move, just calls after her.
“Do me a special favor, Eileen. Say hello to mother.”
Day/Theme: January 31/vague, tangled, chaotic, and exceedingly disturbing
Series: Silent Hill 4
Character/Pairing: Eileen Galvin/Cynthia Velasquez
Rating: PG
Word Count: 780
Note: This is set in an AU world that started in this ficlet, in which Eileen is in Henry’s role and Cynthia is in Walter’s. This story was also written for the theme “insides” at
100_women.A hole leads to somewhere, or it wouldn’t be a hole. Eileen contemplates this fact as she stares at the bathroom wall. She’s been stuck in the apartment for something like days now with no food (though she doesn’t feel hungry) and no water (though she doesn’t need a bath). She remembers something like hours of screaming, pounding, trying to break the locks on the door, but now she’s nearly hit a state of la belle indifference. It seems only strange but true that she could die here.
There was a party on Friday, but Eileen can’t remember when that is, or when it was. In fact she seems to be losing the concept of time. But she’s still starting to think, as she stares at this hole, about whether whatever is on the other side could be any worse than this. And then she hears it.
“Come here…”
It’s her voice again, the one from the dreams, the woman who calls to her. Listening to this voice is probably the worst idea possible, but Eileen begins to crawl through the hole anyway. It takes forever, wriggling down through the stone. She doesn’t try to keep track of how far she has gone because she is certain she is going nowhere. But eventually she finds herself landing on cold tile in a place that smells of mildew.
She recognizes it instantly. It’s the ladies’ room in the subway station. When she was a child she came here often with her father. But the place is dead silent and freezing cold, and she can already tell she won’t be catching a train and getting out of here. When she opens the bathroom door her suspicions are confirmed – this place has never been this empty and everything seems wrong: the colors, the sounds. For a small moment she wishes her father were here to hold her hand.
Then she hears breathing and the click of clawed footsteps. Some kind of animal is moving toward her, a dog-like thing but too big, and a hideous shade of green. It drools and growls at her, but when she picks up a piece of broken concrete it slinks away around a corner. Eileen heads down the hallway to where the turnstiles should be. She has no token though, and no ticket, and even if there were a train she thinks she’d rather not go wherever it would end up.
Then she sees her in the shadows, the woman. Eileen stares at her for a moment.
“Do you remember my name this time?”
“Cynthia…” Eileen breathes.
“You came!” Cynthia is beautiful, even standing in this horrific place. She’s dressed in a short skirt and a blouse with a deep neckline, as if she wants to catch someone’s eye, and her long brown hair flows over her shoulders. And now Eileen knows that something else is very wrong, because Cynthia is a dream and she isn’t asleep. This woman shouldn’t be here, and she certainly shouldn’t be smiling.
“Are you stuck here too?” Eileen asks, though she knows that’s not it.
“I am here,” laughs Cynthia. “Here is me… you’re inside me now Eileen.” She picks up Eileen’s hand and kisses it. “Welcome to my world.”
“You’re crazy!” Eileen says, but she doesn’t back away just yet.
Cynthia picks something up from the ground beside her. It’s a doll, torn and dirty.
“Emily!” she says.
“Oh, she has a name after all?” Cynthia says.
Eileen still remembers that moment, years ago, when she was a child staring at a bench here in the subway, realizing that the lump under a filthy blanket was a person. She could barely see anything but tangled brown hair. It had seemed so sad to her that anyone had to sleep in a cold subway station and be dirty and lonely. So she had put Emily down on the bench.
“Leave that woman alone,” her father had said. And then Eileen had realized that this was a woman, and wondered if she was anybody’s mommy.
“Emily’s mine now.”
Eileen stares at Cynthia as the woman hugs the tattered doll.
“I was so jealous of you, walking through here with your father on your way to somewhere else. And you grew up to be so pretty, didn’t you?” Cynthia strokes Eileen’s hair. “I’ve been watching you.”
At those words Eileen’s wits come back to her and she begins to run back toward the bathroom and the hole in the wall. Maybe that’s still Cynthia’s world – she doesn’t know what the hell is going on anymore. Cynthia herself doesn’t move, just calls after her.
“Do me a special favor, Eileen. Say hello to mother.”