Dreams, Lies, and Faceless Masks

-Chapter VII: Pieces (introduction)-

Go away,

Go away,

Go away,

Never come back…

Even though he knew perfectly he couldn't find a way back, he still felt like he was too close to his room and his bed, and entered more rooms, went through more doors, until the hallway stopped in a wall, where he supported his back as he slowly slid to the floor. Clutching his face with his hands, he felt like screaming; he didn't know how long he had been running, though it had left him breathless. Panting, he fell sideways to the floor, letting it cool him down.

James wasn't sure if the adrenaline or the fright or the running had left him so warm, but he felt like he was burning. Probably a fever of sorts. It surprised him how he never got sick, after all the beatings and the instruments Pyramid Head used to heal him, which he doubted were clean at all.

A shiver went up his spine at the mention of the monster, and James whined softly, hugging himself.

Pathetic.

Looking around him, even though he could swear someone had whispered the word, his mind had said it too. He was pathetic. Lying in the cold floor, trembling, and only wishing to see the one being that had damaged him so much.

He closed his eyes.

He didn't even want to decide which being he was referring to.

Blocking the thought away, like afraid of opening a box because of its contents, he switched to his surroundings, like he always did to distract himself. The place was dark, barely lit by the dim light entering through a window blocked by newspapers. He stood up, seeing as the hallway had two doors, wondering what were their purpose. It looked useless, like a trick, like the end of a labyrinth.

Labyrinth.

Something clicked in his head, and the man walked through the hallway, supporting himself on the rusty walls. His socks barely resisted the cold surface under them, but he didn't mind - There was something in the end, like a ringing, like a constant noise he couldn't decipher. He met a split end, one way was another dead end with a window covered by newspapers too, and to the other side more darkness. He followed the dark path, still following the noise - He encountered locked doors, and in the end, a big, familiar door.

It was the one that led outside.

He stood there, staring at it like it was something out of this world, and kicking himself mentally for not trying before, he tried to open it. It was locked, of course. Sighing, he punched it lightly, to then rest his head against it.

So close to freedom.

It wasn't freedom, anyway. It was just a chance to escape and see the sunlight, and then what? Run back home? Keep looking for Mary? Killhimself?

He wasn't even sure if this was the real world, if he could in fact kill himself, or what would happen once he did. Perhaps rest, like he wanted before, rest eternally to not be bothered ever again.

He smiled sadly.

One never knew what came after death.

He turned his back on the door, and went down the stairs that were close to it. He hadn't thought of it, and if he had, he didn't remember - Perhaps he was dead and this was Hell. Something he apparently deserved.

Clutching his hair, he suppressed a moan.

He didn't deserve this…

Snapping him out of his thoughts, the noise came back. It wasn't his head, and he was sure this time - It was almost like a ringing, less high-pitched. And he was closer to it. He wandered through the hallways, trying to follow it, thinking about why it sounded so…familiar. Almost like he had to follow it, or find its source. Still, his chase was interrupted by a stinging pain - he supported himself on the wall, feeling his legs weakening.

D-Damnit. He thought, staying against the wall a few seconds, to rest. His legs were too tired, and he supposed it was normal, after running so much. James pulled up his pant leg, and met an ugly scar, not bandaged anymore, also showing bruised skin. That wouldn't heal up. Some scars just never healed, not even with time.

Pathetic.

The blonde looked up. In this floor, noises were much more clear. And that voice was not his. He shivered, trying to block it out. He wasn't inventing voices on his head. And he wasn't inventing noises, either, this one was real, and he would find it.

Ignoring now the pain, which had softened a bit, he continued his chase through the hallways.

AUTHOR'S NOTE, PLEASE READ.

Well hello there, do you hate me, readers? I surely do hate myself for not keeping up with this story. It's been what, two years already? And I must say, it still is the fanfiction I hold closest to my heart, I love this story.
But as I told someone already, I promised that no matter how long it would take me, I WOULD FINISH IT.
And it's a promise. I will finish this story. Believe me, it's hard to keep it close since I've already beaten Silent Hill 2 like what, 6 times already? It's hard to find the inspiration, but I'll do my best.

THANK YOU SO MUCH if you're still reading this. This was a really short peek of the seventh chapter, that I will be writing from now on. I promise things will get moving, I still remember all the ideas I had planned for this, and I shall bring them and do my best. Thank you again if you're still reading it!