Evangeline Sablier is not broken, but please (handlewithcare) wrote in rooms,
Silent Hill: Wren/Evie/Luke/Jack
[When the sirens began Evie had been outside, keeping her eyes peeled for any sign of Luke or Jack. For any sign of more monsters. She'd fought already. She'd run. She'd run and run and she'd hidden. She'd looked out for Wren.
She paced in the apartment and back outside, her gun tucked into the back of her pants, lead pipe slippery in her hand, and a piece of a broken window clutched in her other. It did not feel good, but she didn't know how long she'd been standing there. Five minutes. Five days. Five decades. She had no clue and she preferred it that way.
When the sirens blared she knew there was no moving Wren. There was no leaving this spot, and by now - well by now they'd be inside. So inside she went. Inside to be closed up with the monsters, and the nightmares. Nightmares she didn't even know she'd had anymore. At first they hadn't been bad. She wasn't afraid. She had meant that. Not of them. Not of herself. But after a while, the parts she'd tried to move past started creeping up. Familiar sounds and faces. Manifestations that talked to her and she refused to talk back - not wanting to scare Wren. Not knowing if Wren could see them and hear them too.
But what appeared in the apartment weren't manifestations. They were monsters, demons, her monsters, her demons, but uglier than she imagined. Uglier than she remembered. No one needed to see them, not Wren. No one needed to know. To be subjected to it. And she certainly wasn't going to let her demons harm her closest friend. No. She needed to keep Wren alive, Luke would get there, and he wouldn't let anything happen to her - but the drive to keep her safe was what forced Evie's hand to fight demons she wanted to talk to. They would eat her up alive and she'd want to reason with them.
That was the hardest part - at home she could reason with them. Here, where the fog stuck to her lungs, nothing made sense.
The scene in the apartment was one of fear and graceless carnage. There was none of the finesse in her fighting style that she'd been taught. There was none of the carefully planned dodge and parry. There was no planning anything, there was screaming and hitting, and slashing and stabbing. There was monster goo and blood, and by the time the slam came the last monster - for the moment as far as she knew - falling to the ground and her taking in a loud gasp of air that almost hiccuped in her chest getting stuck there with a strong ache for a long moment. The slam took a moment to register, but no it had definitely happened and the finesse that had been lacking for was almost second nature - it had been a long time since this came second nature to her - as she turned on a heel and her gun was held firmly in her hand that had been holding the lead pipe, not even a shake or a twitch as she pointed it directly at Jack and Luke.
It took a moment, she was pretty sure her eyes were playing tricks on her, or that they were just manifestations by now too, and they were both probably dead somewhere. But she didn't have to shoot the manifestations. Not every time. She lowered the gun once the air bubble in her chest cleared and she breathed in more calmly.
The apartment was littered with empty bags, empty cans, empty wrappers of any kind. Coffee cans, garbage. When she hadn't been looking for monsters, Evie had been looking for a way home.
She didn't say anything right away. She didn't know what else was about to happen and she didn't want to alert anything else that they'd stayed in one place so long. She put a dirty, bloody, finger up to her lips, it might have been creepy, her shushing them in this way, but she was still Evie. Dirty, bloody, practically feral Evie. But blue eyes still shone and sparkled, and the concern on her face was evident. There was emotion there, even as she whispered.] We can't stay here through another cycle, I don't know if this one is over. [Her head nodded at Luke in the direction of where he'd find Wren.]