Silent Hill Activation: Destined To Die

Chapter Six

Chapter Six

1

     Beyond a lone glass pane shadows slashed in two by an intermittent canary vein of lightning. Drayton Falls needed a guardian to preserve its secrets and warriors of judgment. Succumbing to mortal requirements violated such a treasured position. Like a snake her head bobbed and weaved. Her thin swan like neck lengthened as her face now pressed against the cool glass panel. From between her parted lips darted a divided tongue that tasted the smooth surface. Upon the swallow of night she opened her coal eyes to view the segment of life now slowing to a crawl. Soon enough power would be hers to wield.

     Who was in need of judgment? Against her scaly skin a dull pink crept as brilliant pupils shone from within murky depths. There was always someone, she discerned. There was always someone in need of judgment and atonement.

    As she blinked a section of wall exploded. Clouds of dust obscured fragments of flying plaster and glass. Across a choppy block of pavement Destra spread her webbed fingers. The two slits in her face widened. Orange orbs swelled within. As her mouth cracked open a thin rope slithered out to taste crumbled debris. Slowly rubble turned over. Underneath laid fresh soil. Its grit worked between her teeth. The rows of needle thin bone chewed it into dust.

     Her scaly face twitched. A new arrival graced the banks of her mind. She was a rather haughty young thing, secure in her belief she knew all there was to know about life. Destra hissed. A string of salvia jetted from between her thin black lips. The young girl would never last. She had yet to learn her opinion was a magnet for trouble. Still, as far as humans went, she was a mighty detestable one.

     Even now as a wall of fog rolled across the way the judge was on the hunt. His large bulky frame was split down the center. From the gaping wound, organs continued their function. They pulsed with each giant step he took.

     Yes, Destra thought, he would be a fine executioner. His bulging mammoth head twisted on the thick stump of his neck. Barbed wire wrapped about him as though a clever decoration choice. It was wound so tight flesh swelled on either side of the strong wire and its teeth.

     "Yes," Destra hissed, her hook like fingers clawing fresh dirt and squeezing large clumps. "Seek out the critic."

     Death comes but only in a swift blow to the innocent, she thought, watching the rotund monster stride between two buildings. For the arrogant, death is a bittersweet hell fashioned by hounds who purpose inflammable responses. Soon even the most dejected would suffer unto a new order.

     She crawled along on her belly, occasional whipping out her tongue and stopping only to examine cold slabs of flesh littering the avenues. She turned into an alley where a fresh blood trail sparked her interest. It was a wide and dark joy that enticed her senses.

    "Oh, the blood of the arrogant," she confirmed after a brief taste. As it filled her mouth with a copper flavor she slithered on. At the end, slumped up against a chain link fence was the critic. Her mouth yawned, exposing a hideous hole missing a tongue and teeth. Her eyes forever stared up at the smoky heavens. They had become clouded marbles now, but Destra still leaned forward to look into them.

2

     Krosnos/Heather staggered onto the fog enveloped street. Through her eyes everything blurred a moment before becoming clear. As her focus sharpened the figure in the distance was easy to read. She stumbled toward it, one foot after the other and sometimes not in that order. This is what caused her sway and lurch forward.  She paused as again contents grew hazy. The smell of decay and burnt debris was everywhere though nothing in her proximity revealed destruction aside from collapsed sections of road.