Where Darkness Falls

Where Darkness Falls






Where Darkness Falls

 

Chapter
3 - Meetings

 

Misato simply stared at the man in front of her. What
on earth is HE doing here?! she thought, finding no RATIONAL reason that
the commander of NERV, Gendou Ikari, would be standing in the middle of the
police station on the outskirts of downtown Nowhere USA.

 

Then again, not much had been rational since she had
arrived.

 

I’ll
bet he’s not here looking for Shinji, she thought, assessing the
man closely, maybe he’s after Ritsuko?

 

This explanation made a bit more sense. After all,
Gendou did not seem like the kind of man to take betrayal easily, and Ritsuko
had definitely betrayed him. Misato
also seemed to recall hearing whispered rumours of a planned ‘backup program,’
involving brainwashing the EVA pilots should they prove uncooperative - so she
sincerely doubted that his son’s welfare was at the front of his thoughts. This concept was reinforced by the vivid
memory of Shinji’s scream of agony at seeing the pilot of Unit 03, Touji
Suzuhara, pulled from his shattered entry plug after his father’s cold-hearted
activation of Unit 01’s Dummy Plug autopilot system.

 

No, Misato decided, Gendou was definitely not the kind
of man to trek halfway around the world for one errant boy - be it his son or
God himself.

 

Too
much silence…

 

“Hello Commander,” Misato blurted, finding that she
really had no other opening.

 

or,”or,” the man replied coolly, his gun staying
barrel down, but at the ready. “Would
you be so kind as to give me a status update?
Or to put it a bit more bluntly - what the hell is going on here?”

 

“I don’t know sir,” Misato confessed, “it was like
this when I got here.” She hesitated
only a second. “What are you doing here?”

 

He
didn’t ask you that, her mind whispered, he’s too cool about all this - be careful…

 

“I was on my way to inspect the new American branch of
NERV when my car was rammed off the road by a police cruiser,” Gendou said
smoothly. “My bodyguard was killed in the crash,” he elaborated as he slid off
the desk and tucked his pistol into his jacket.

 

“New branch?” Misato asked uncertainly.

 

“It was need to know only,” Gendou replied calmly,
“you did not need to know.”

 

They stared at each other for a moment in silence,
then Misato whispered, “Well, you’d better leave town, sir… it isn’t safe here.”

 

Training
is a hard thing to break, I guess, she thought ironically, scum sucking bastard from hell or not, he’s
still The Commander, and if - WHEN - I get out of here, I’ll still have to work
with him… at least until I turn in my resignation. New branch my ass!

 

Yes, she decided as the man studied her over the top
of his glasses, a resignation sounded just peachy to her at that moment.

 

“Indeed,” the Commander said belatedly, “good luck
then, Major.”

 

Misato kept her face neutral as the man headed for the
door, keeping her eyes on him until he had made his exit. Gendou, she noticed, did the same, watching
her from the corner of his eyes as if hoping she would drop her guard and leave
him an opening to-

 

To
what? her mind chided, Attack
you? The COMMANDER?? This place is getting to you, Katsuragi. She frowned as she looked down at the
creature on the floor. No, she thought darkly, no, I don’t think I was out of line for
treating him like a possible enemy - for God’s sake, the man barely blinked… and
he was just too damn cool about everything!

 

She shook off the feeling that the man was still in
the room with her and did a quick search of the room, turning up a spare clip
for her pistol, several girly magazines, a half eaten ham sandwich, and
thankfully - a small medical kit.

 

Applying a liberal amount of antibiotic ointment to
the cut on her arm, Misato looked around the r Lo Looks like they were
working on a pretty big case, she thought, pausing in her assessment to
wipe some of the excess ointment away and peal the backing off of an oversized
bandage. Drug trafficking? In a resort
town? I guess it makes sense - hook the
tourists and keep ‘em coming back for more… but what is ‘White Claudia’? I’ve never heard of a plant with that-

 

A soft click behind her made her whirl around,
spilling the contents of the first aid kit all over the desk. She stared in silence at the long barrel of
a standard-issue police assault rifle, held by a standard-issue American police
officer. The man was of medium height,
with blue eyes, blonde hair, and a neatly trimmed blonde moustache.

 

Misato noticed that he wore a small, tin star with the
word ‘sheriff’ etched in it just over his regular badge.

 

“Sorry about that,” the man said, slowly lowering his
weapon, “I thought you were another one of those monsters.” He extended his right hand, keeping his left
wrapped firmly around the stock of his rifle.
on Fon Fletcher - I’m the chief of police around here.”

 

Misato cautiously took his hand, flinching slightly as
he shook her hand firmly, the thick muscles of his upper arm rippling slightly
under his too-tight shirt. “Misato
Katsuragi,” she murmured in her best English, reclaiming her hand and
discretely rubbing it to regain some of the circulation, “Operations Director
for NERV.”

 

“NERV?” Fletcher arched an eyebrow, “You here to check
out the new branch over in Hartford?”

 

“Y-yeah,” Misato lied with only a small hesitation,
“just… got a little sidetracked.”

 

Why
is it, she thought suddenly, that everyone else knows about this ‘new’ American branch but me? And why isn’t he more concerned?!

 

Misato found her hand drifting to rest on the butt of
her pistol as it dawned on her that the chief of police had not once asked her
if she was ok - in spite of the fact that he knew there were monsters
in his town.

 

Fletcher clarified this by smoothly asking, “Don’t
suppose you passed any of my officers while you were out there, did you? They all have orders to direct any
stragglers to come here for shelter… but so far, you’re the first person to
turn up.”

 

Misato relaxed slightly. “I saw a cruiser over by the school, but no one was in it,” she
said calmly, wondering why she was so edgy around this laid-back official.

 

“I see,” Fletcher nodded sagely, “well, I better go
check that out. You should stay here…
wait for me to get back.”

 

“Absolutely,” Misato said, trying to inject a note of
relief into her voice, “thank you sheriff.”

 

Fletcher laughed, glancing down at the tin star and
shaking his head. “My kid gave me
this,” he chuckled, “le wle weeks before his
mother took him over to Brahms to stay with her
mother.”

 

Another
broken family, Misato thought, feeling a bit more empathetic tos
ts
the man, guess it’s everywhere these
days. You’d think people would want to
stay together, with the whole damn world falling apart and everything…
sometimes all we have he phe people we care for.

 

“Stay put now,” Fletcher said lightly, giving Misato a
brief salute, “you look like you cane cae care of yourself… but leave this to
me and my people, ma’am - we’ll take care of you.”

 

“Yes sir,” Misato returned the salute, letting her
smile stay in place until the man had made his way to the door and slipped
out. “I’ll stay right here until I see
if there’s anything else I need to help me find Shinji.”

 

**

 

Misato searched the police station as thoroughly as
she could, but unfortunately she found the armoury securely locked with a
computer-coded touchpad, and seeing as things electronic no longer seemed to
work (and she did not have the keycode) trying to open the thick door was a
futile exercise. The garage, however,
yielded spare ammunition for both her pistol and shotgun and, oddly, three more
small, silver crosses, exactly like the one she had found by the abandoned
cruiser near the school.

 

Strange… she
thought, cupping the crosses in her palm for a moment before slipping them
instinctively into her pocket. Must be a hell of a religious town.

 

Wandering back through the station, she found herself
in front of a small wooden door marked simply ‘chief.’ “Well mister Fletcher,” she murmured, taking
a quick look around to ensure that the man had not slipped in at some point,
“let’s see what you have to hide.”

 

It was quite a letdown. Other than a very tidy desk, a comfortable looking chair, and a
row of six, four-by-six-inch picture frames on the windowsill, the chief of
police had a very unexciting office.
None of his drawers yielded anything more interesting than a box of
thumbtacks and a bottle of aspirin (which she pocketed), and all of the papers
on the man’s desk pertained to speeding tickets and complaints of dogs barking
too loud.

 

With a sigh, she threw herself into his chair,
reclining the seat and lacing her hands behind her head. “Nice looking family you have, Sheriff,” she
commented quietly, unconsciously deciding that this would be the way she
referred to him as she surveyed the row of photos, “too bad you couldn’t hold
it together.” She frowned. “What’s that…?”

 

She let the chair rock forward, rolling it closer to
the windowsill. Her frown deepened as
she found a seventh picture lying face down in a small dusting of broken glass,
a small drop of blood - still wet - gracing the sill directly in front of it.

 

“Temper, temper…”

 

Slowly, Misato lifted the frame, fully expecting to
find the chief of police shaking hands with the devil, or something equally as
shocking… but the picture in the frame was mundane - just a picture of a small,
towheaded boy with peanut butter and jelly smeared across his grinning
face. With a sigh, Misato began to put
the picture back down, but she paused as her sharp eyes picked up another
detail.

 

Now
why… she thought, frowning as she examined the picture a
bit closer. The boy, she realized, was
being held by someone just off camera.
She could see a sweater-clad arm wrapped loosely around the boy’s waist…
but for some reason, a small square had been cut from the photo, obscuring most
of the person’s hand.

 

“Huh,” Misato mused, turning the frame over in her
hands and examining it from every angle, “strange…”

 

She shook herself.
I’m wasting time - none of this is
helping me find Shinji.

 

Setting the picture back down she twisted the chair
back to face the desk and rose to her feet, but as she moved, she felt
something brush the top of her leg.
Lowering herself back down, she reached under the desk, her questioning
hand encountering cool leather and rough packing tape.

 

With a grunt of effort, Misato pulled the tape free
and retrieved her prize - an ordinary looking brown wallet. “Well that was hardly worth it,” she
muttered dryly, staring into the empty billfold, “just an old credit card
receipt and an address.”

 

Then
again, she thought with a sudden wave of tiredness, has anything been ‘just’ this or that since
I got here??

 

Setting the wallet to the side, she unfolded the
credit card receipt, frowning as she found a very innocuous book title
alongside the sales price of $.05.

 

“‘The Growth
Patterns of New England Wildflowers,’” she read aloud, shaking her head as
she puzzled over the price. “Why put
five cents on credit??”

 

Still confused, she pocketed the receipt and read the
address, feeling a chill wash over her as she looked at the street - Asimov -
alongside a single, Kanji character… Sakura.

 

I
never was too good at handwriting analysis, she thought, running
her forefinger slowly over the character, but…
I’d swear this is Shinji’s &nb  

Shaking herself from her thoughts, she pulled out her
map, scanning for the location of the bookstore. “Sakura blossoms are pink,” she muttered, trying very hard to
convince herself that she was not grasping at straws, “maybe White Claudia looks like - damn it!” She slammed her fist down on the desk. “What does this mean!? Why would Shinji be writing notes to the
police chief about flowers? He can’t be
involved in that drug business, can he?
No way! He would never let himself be forced to-”

 

She took a deep breath, trying her best to calm
down. God, just be alive… that’s all that REALLY matters.

 

**

 

The walk to the bookstore was tense, but
uneventful. Though nothing came out of
the fog to attack her, Misato still walked as fast as she could while still
staying quiet, and she nearly jumped out of her skin when she heard the
far-off, reverberating howl of a dog.

 

Or at least, what she hoped was a dog.

 

“This town is gonna be the death of me,” she groaned,
wishing she could laugh at her little double entendre as the bookstore came
into view. She drew her pistol,
approaching the front door cautiously, but as it became clear that there were
no creatures lurking just out of site, she hurried inside and shut the door,
heaving a sigh of relief.

 

Taking a moment to collect herself, she glanced
around, finding herself in a cosy (if just slightly too warm) little book shop,
every shelf overflowing with all manner of novels, self-help books, cookbooks,
magazines, and pamphlets imagina

 

A small shelf marked, ‘floral,’ caught her eye.

 

“Let’s just take a look, shall we?”

 

She knelt in front of the shelf, taking a quick look
around to make doubly sure she was alone, and began scanning titles, mumbling
under her breath until she found a small row of the book listed on the credit
card receipt… but all bore small stickers reading ‘marked down! Now just $4.99!’

 

“Huh,” Misato whispered, tapping one of the books
thoughtfully, “maybe it was a mistake when it was rung up? No… he wouldn’t have signed it…” She rose to her feet and rested her chin in
her palm, taking another look around the bookstore. “Or maybe,” she said softly, “it was in a different
section.” She grinned to herself as her
eyes happened osmalsmall shelf tucked in the corner.

 

The sign over the shelf read Clearance.

 

With a sense of certainty, Misato strode over to the
shelf and began scanning it. “Clive
Barker,” she muttered, “Stephen King… SD Perry… man, they’re just clearing out
all their horror, aren’t they??”

 

Pushing a handful of novels aside, she found what she
was looking for.

 

“Eww!!”

 

The lone copy of The
Growth Patterns of New England Wildfls was was the single most disgusting
book Misato had ever seen. The cover,
depicting a wild rose of some sort, was so dingy and crusted with filth that
Misato did not even want to touch it.
On corner of the book appeared to have been chewed on by a large dog,
which had apparently succeeded in cracking the spine and tearing the bottom
corner of the front cover clean off.

 

Then there was the matter of the large clump of some
brown substance clinging to the top, partially obscuring the small ‘only
$.05!!’ sticker in the upper corner.

 

Why
me? she thought, her fingers twitching in subconscious
revulsion as she beheld the vile book. Why does stuff like this always happen to
ME!?

 

With a pre-emptive cry of disgust, Misato let her hand
shoot out and seize the book, pulling it towards her and praying that this
might have an answer to at least ONE of her questions. Instead of sliding out, however, the book
tilted forward, a heavy clunk echoing
from some hidden mechanism behind the shelf.

 

With silent awe, Misato rose to her feet and watched
as the clearance shelf laboriously moved to the side, exposing a narrow stone
staircase.

 

“Now that’s something you don’t see every day.”

 

Misato whirled around, relief flooding her at the
familiar voice. “Ritsuko!” she
cried. “Oh thank God! I thought you
were dead!”

 

Ritsuko smiled.
“I nearly was,” she muttered dryly, “one of those damned winged demons
dropped out of nowhere and tried to eat me, so I ran. By the time I lost it and made my way back to the school, I
couldn’t find you anywhere.” She
shrugged. “So I figured I’d just lay
low in one of the houses around here until I caught my breath… then I saw you
go in here, followed you, and here we are.”

 

Misato nodded.
“Did you see any sign of Shinji?” she asked bluntly.

 

The atmosphere of the town was wearing on her, forcing
her to discard simple ideas like courtesy and manners.

 

Ritsuko seemed to understand. “I did
see someone,” she said slowly, biting her bottom lip pensively, “but I
wasn’t sure if it was Shinji… I was kind of far away.”

 

“You just let him go!?” exclaimed Misato.

 

If possible, Ritsuko looked even more flustered. “Well, no - I didn’t really have a
choice!” She took a deep breath. “He was walking on thin air!”

 

“What??”

 

“You heard me,” Ritsuko sighed, rubbing her eyes in a
tired fashion. “I couldn’t see who it
was from where I was standing, but it looked like a young man with black hair…
and he was walking over a twenty-five
foot crevasse in Bachman Road in the direction of the lake… so, yeah, I didn’t
really have a chance to stop him, since I left my jetpack back at NERV!”

 

An awkward silence fell between the two, broken when
Misato mumbled, “Sorry.”

 

“I understand,” Ritsuko said calmly, “I want to find
him just as much as you do.” Her eyes
flicked to the stairwell. “What’s
this?”

 

“I don’t know,” shrugged Misato, “just found it.”

 

Ritsuko checked her shotgun. “You want to go first, or me?”

 

Misato considered this for a moment, then shook her
head. “You stay here and watch the
entrance for me to make sure no one follows me, and I’ll check it out.” She hesitated, then asked, “Have you ever
met the chief of police?”

 

“No, why?”

 

Misato quickly outlined her experiences in the police
station, including Gendou, Fletcher, the wallet, and the little bit she
understood about the drug investigation - simply because it now seemed to have
a bearing on finding Shinji.

 

“I can see why you’d be nervous about someone sneaking
up on you,” Ritsuko said, looking a bit green as she considered what might
happen to her if her former lover got his hands on her, “be careful.”

 

“You too.”

 

Misato went down the dark tunnel, snapping on her
flashlight after a few feet. Someone forgot to pay the power bill, she
thought grimly, I think… I’m starting to
hate this town - not just dislike it or find it creepy, I actually HATE it!

 

After about fifteen feet, the narrow hallway opened up
into a small, alcove like room… complete with what looked suspiciously like an
alter whose centrepiece was an elaborately decorated brazier, carved with
symbols she did not recognize, but still made her uneasy. Tapestries hung on either side of the
brazier, and the floor under the altar had been painted in a rough, unhealthy
looking diagram.

 

Kind
of like the Tree of Life the Commander has on his ceiling,
Misato thought, letting her eyes follow the diagram’s serpentine pattern. Man, I
wonder what kind of sick stuff went on here… wait, no I don’t - I don’t want to
kn-

 

Her thought was cut off as the brazier suddenly flared
to life, filling the room with intense heat and a sickeningly sweet, cloying
fragrance - like incense left on a shelf for years. Misato felt her head swim, and she swore she could hear a loud,
wailing siren, somewhere far off in the distance… calling her - DEMANDING that
she heed its cry…

 

Back up the stase, se, Ritsuko nearly jumped as she
heard an odd humming sound, coming from somewhere down the stairs. “Misato?” she called cautiously, “Are you
ok?”

 

But the only reply she received was silence.

 

What
if something happened? Ritsuko shook her head, grasping her shotgun
firmly as she walked down the steps.
Making her way into the small room, she blinked in confusion. What
did they worship here?? This looks like some kind of pagan religion, probably from the… she shook her head,
dismissing the old, half-learned lessons on ‘alternate religions’ she had been
subjected to in college.

 

“Misato!” she called, checking every corner of the
room for another way to leave it… but there was nothing. Just her…the altar… and silence.

 

Where
could she be!?

 

**

 

Misato opened her eyes with a start, quickly scrambling
to her feet and casting around the room in fear. “Did I… pass out?” she whispered. nbspnbsp;

Everything seemed the same, as far as she could see,
but the air somehow felt heavier - as if no one had been in this room for years
and years, and everything had gone to mould.
Shaking her head, she quickly made her way back up the stairs… and her
jaw fell open at what she beheld. Decay
that permeated the entire shop, the books that had been so warm and inviting
now looked old and worm eaten. The
grime that covered the walls reminded her instantly of the apartment building,
as did that same horrible stench, hitting her nostrils like a hammer, and she
barely contained a scream as she spotted three bodies, all carefully arranged
on the rotten walls… exactly like the one she had seen on the school roof.

 

There was no sign of Ritsuko.

 

What
if this is just some kind of nightmare or some kind of hallucination, she
thought wildly, what if I’m in the
hospital or some other shit like that… she shook her head, I don’t know what’s real anymore! Ritsuko was RIGHT HERE!!

 

Misato walked out of the bookshop and found that
outside was the same story - every building she could see looked decayed and
dilapidated, as if the town had been abandoned for over a century. Instead of windows she saw rusted bars, the
pavement underfoot cracked and worn… and as she stood there, she distinctly
heard the now-familiar sound of flapping wings, coming closer… closer…

 

With a cry, she broke into a run, pulling the shotgun
off her shoulder as she moved and pumping a shell into the breach. I’m
not going to die standing still, she swore, dashing around a corner as
something slick and groaning slithered out of an alley to her right, I WILL make it out of her, damn it! I can - the house!!

 

Misato skidded to a halt, yanking the piece of paper
with the Kanji on it out of her pocket. t tot too far,” she whispered, quickly consulting her map as the flapping
sound grew louder, “go… go, go, GO!!”

 

With all the demons of Hell (quite literally) nipping
at her heals, Misato ran as fast as she could towards the small house indicated
on that little slip of paper, gasping from the effort as she burst through the
front door and slammed it behind her.
Deciding that she was not safe enough standing by the thin, wooden
portal, she hurried up to the second floor, sweeping the air in front of her
with the shotgun as she moved.

 

Something
important has to be here, she told herself firmly, making her way
through the hall towards what looked like a girl’s door - all decorated in pink
and pop-singers. This is all related somehow, I just need to find-

 

She froze as a rustling sound came from the other side
of the door… and the knob began to turn.

 

Misato brought the shotgun to eye-level and snapped
the flashlight off, deciding that she would not fire until she could see the
thing’s head clearly. Plus it could be Ritsuko, she thought,
nearly laughing at the ludicrousness of her optimism, Right, sure… and a thousand angels - real ones - will fly down from the
heavens and say, ‘Oh we’d love to have you!
But I’m afraid you have travel arrangements already. Going down!’

 

She tensed as the door swung open with a small creak,
and a small form shuffled out of the room… but her eyes widened in shock as she
realized that the form belonged to, “Amber?!”

 

The girl was so shocked that the scream she seemed
intent on giving came out as a muffled squeak, but once Misato snapped on the
flashlight, a decidedly relieved expression washed over Amber’s features, and
she slumped against the doorframe, clutching her chest.

 

“Oh Miss Katsuragi,” she gasped, immediately launching
into an apology, “I’m… I’m sorry I ran off - but I was so scared! I’m sorry!”

 

“I understand, believe me,” Misato assured her, “Hell,
I ran too - soon as I got the chance.”

 

“R-really?” Amber asked, smiling a sick little
smile. “You look so cool, I didn’t
think you would run from anything!”

 

The flattery was so honest that Misato had to
laugh. “I’m about as far from cool as
you can get,” she said warmly, leaning against the hallway wall, “but I’m glad
you did run, because that thing was
nasty.”

 

“Yeah…”

 

Misato glanced around the house for a moment. “So,” she said slowly, “umm… why’d you pick
this house to hide in?”

 

No
need to tell her why I’M here, she reasoned, she’s probably known the sheriff all her
life - I don’t want her to think I’m after him or think he’s a criminal or
something.

 

Amber’s reply shocked her.

 

“I live here.”

 

“Uh… oh,” Misato stammered, not really knowing how to
respond, “so you figured it would be a good place to hide, or what?”

 

“Huh uh,” Amber shook her head, glancing back into the
room (her room, Misato mentally
corrected herself), “I forgot my ring when I went to school, and it’s really
important to me, so I came to find it.”

 

Misato’s jaw fell open. “It can’t be that
important,” she sputtered, “Amber - you should be on your way out of town! You can get another ring!”

 

“It’s special,” Amber said, blushing brightly as she
timidly added, “my boyfriend gave it to me.”

 

“I see,” the older woman sighed, knowing it was
pointless to be trying to convince the girl of her error at this point in
time. “Hey, can I ask you something?”
she said, pushing away from the wall and resting the shotgun on her shoulder. When Amber nodded, Misato said, “How do you
get to the lake from here?”

 

Amber shrugged.
“Just take Bachman Road,” she answered, stepping a little closer to
Misato - clearly for comfort - and tilting her head as if she had heard a
sound.

 

“That road’s out,” Misato countered, frowning as she
recalled Ritsuko’s tale, “Is there any other way?”

 

Amber looked thoughtful for a moment. “Well,” she said
slowly, “it’ll take longer, but if you go east along Sagan Street, you’ll
eventually go past a railroad. Go right
after you pass the railroad crossing and you’ll get to Munson Street. Keep going along there and you’ll hit Nathan
Avenue - follow it… it goes all the way around the lake.” She looked up at Misato curiously. “Why do
you want to go there? It’s not that
great - all that’s there is few houses - oh, and my dad told there was a house
owned by some Japanese guy… but I can’t remember his name.” She bit her lip. “Is that why you want to go?”

 

“No,” replied Misato. “Shinji might be there…”

 

“Um…Miss Katsuragi?” Amber asked, glancing over her
shoulder and frowning again, then shaking her head and clearing mouthing, ‘just
imagining it.’

 

“Yes,” Misato replied, holding up her hand to
forestall any further comment as she added, “And don’t be so damn formal - call
me Misato!”

 

“Okay… M-Misato,” Amber nodded, “Ummm… why is Shinji
so important to you?”

 

Misato was taken aback by this question. “He… he was placed in my custody when he
first moved to my city,” she replied with a trace of guilt, “I promised I would
take care of him.”

 

Amber looked thoughtful. “That makes sense,” she said slowly, “I never thought that
Takeuchi lady was his sister anyway.”

 

“What?”

 

Misato was curious to know how a young American girl
could tell that two Asian’s that had lived in town for less than a month were
not related… but the girl seemed to have another question on her mind.

 

“Do you think he would come looking for you?”

 

Misato blinked but Amber shook her head, quickly
saying, “I’m sorry Miss Katsuragi… I shouldn’t have asked that.”

 

Misato nodded. “Its okay,” she whispered, briefly
considering whether or not Shinji WOULD come after her.

 

Probably
not after what happened with Kaworu, she thought sadly, but… but maybe when things were good between
us - there were SOME good times, right?
She shook her head to clear it, looking down at the earnest, slightly
dirty girl in front of her. Well, I guess it’s not important right now,
she thought firmly, and I can’t just
leave Amber here, so I guess…

 

“Amber,” she said calmly, “it’s too dangerous here…
you’d better come with me -- your boyfriend will just have to get you another
ring.”

 

Amber’s shoulders slumped, but she nodded
reluctantly. “Yes ma’am,” she said
diffidently, “but he doesn’t go out with me that much anymore - he’s so busy
with his work and stuff.”

 

“You have a working boyfriend?” Misato asked, sounding
impressed.

 

“Oh he’s the best,” Amber said, immediately perking
up, “sometimes he takes me for long drives in his-
&n
 

Before Amber could finish her sentence, something hit
the side of the building with an enormous bang,
shaking the windows in their frames.

 

“Get behind me!” Misato cried, grabbing the girl’s
shoulder and stepping between her and the open door.

 

It’s
coming through her window, she thought grimly, raising thotghotgun in
preparation, here it comes!

 

And come through it did… only the monster that crashed
into Amber’s room took more than the window - it took the glass, the frame, and
a large chunk of the wall surrounding it as well.

 

“Downstairs!” Misato barked, “Amber, get downstairs!!”
bsp;bsp;

She pulled the trigged before the girl could reply,
trying not to throw up as she beheld another nightmarishly deformed
monstrosity. The most sickening thing,
to Misato’s eye anyway, was that the thing looked almost human… if you ignored
the fact that it’s entire body was a horrible fusion of rotted flesh and dull,
lifeless metal. Where a human’s hands
would have been, only claws resided - made up of that same, metal and flesh
combination like a sickening, patchwork lion.
Its head, while human in shape, was entirely covered in metal, allowing
only two slits, ever so slightly too high and wide apart to be quite human… and
each filled with ice blue embers, burning with malice.

 

The buckshot from the shotgun ricocheted off the metal
of its body, leaving tiny, pepperish holes in the wall all around it. Misato immediately rushed for the stairs,
realising that she was at a horrible disadvantage in this cramped space. As she took the steps two at a time, she
kept firing, praying for a miracle as the creature slowly, almost casually made
its way down the hall, regarding her through the slats in the stair’s handrail
as she pumped round after round towards it.

 

It’s
playing with me! Misato thought desperately, imagining that she
could hear a soft, raspy laugh coming from somewhere under its metallic
hood. Think… thinkthinkthink!!

 

A guttural growl came from somewhere deep in the
creature’s chest, and Misato’s mouth went dry as it hunkered down on all fours,
shaking what were clearly its hindquarters in obvious preparation to jump.

 

“There!”

 

Dropping the shotgun, Misato whipped out her pistol,
praying that her sudden inspiration would pay off. The monster, seemingly tired of playing with its pray, flew at
Misato, bounding over the railing of the stairs and freefalling towards her even
as she brought her weapon up and fired.

 

Time seemed to stop for Misato as she pulled the
trigger, and she imagined that she could actually see the bullet leaving the
barrel. In her mind’s eye, she saw the
round speed through the rapidly closing space between herself and the monster,
and when it struck home, passing neatly through the right eyehole in the
creature’s mask, Misato swore that she could actually see its soul leaving in a
roar of cold blue fire.

 

Then the world exploded all around her, forcing her to
close her eyes as a brilliant white flash flooded her consciousness.

 

When she was still breathing a moment later, Misato
opened her eyes.

 

Gone was the decay… gone was the grit and grime of
disuse… gone were the signs of abandonment and disrepair. All that was left was a pleasant little
house on Asimov Street, and several gaping, still smoking holes that Misato’s
shotgun was clearly responsible for.

 

Taking no time to glory in the apparent defeat of the
metalloid beast, Misato immediately turned to the living room. “Amber!” she cried. “Amber, are you ok? Amber?!”

 

She searched the entire first floor for any place a
teenager could squeeze into - closets, under beds, the pantry - everywhere… but
there was no sign of the girl.

 

“Damn it,” Misato nearly sobbed, throwing herself down
on the sofa and burying her face in her palms, “Damn it! DAMN
IT!!” She pounded the cushion next
to her, letting out a quick cry of pain as something sharp and metal stuck into
the flesh of her hand. “Figures…” she whispered
dejectedly, carefully pulling out the small, chintzy looking ring that had
apparently fallen between the cracks in the couch.

 

Now
I have two children to save, she thought grimly,
slipping the ring onto her pinkie finger for safe-keeping, Amber... you know where I’m heading - please have the sense to go there
too.

 

Drawing a deep breath, Misato levered herself off the
couch and retrieved her shotgun, then, taking a moment to reload it, she
reviewed her course of action: Go along
Sagan Street, past the railroad, and then go left. You’ll come across Munson
Street, then Nathan Avenue, there’s a road around the lake…

 

Brushing at her eyes and telling herself sternly that
she was NOT a failure, Misato stepped back out into the nightmare that was
Silent Hill.

 

TBC