Re: Silent Hill: Wren/Evie/Luke/Jack
[Where Wren went, Luke went. Arm around her waist like a tether, and he moved with her when she nudged past Evie out into the hall. It was cold, again, a bitter freeze, the drip-drip of water and smell of rotten meat and iron tang. But it was okay. Wren stepped over the carnage, careful and hop, and he stepped right through it, shoes squishing through blood and insides, and it was okay. He tipped his chin up, almost bizarrely proud. Look what I did.
And they agreed, the writhing things with no heads and no mouths. Look what you did. Accusatory. Triumphant, feminine and cruel. Disapproving. But he stepped on them all the same, because where Wren went he went, only a brief glance thrown back to make sure Evie and Jack were following.
They barely even made him flinch, the monsters that leaped from the darkness in the stairwell to attack. Wren didn't scream, didn't fight, didn't stop, and so it was up to Luke to keep them away. He didn't want to let her go, but he had to, because there was more strength in his blows when he used two hands. Laughter echoed, mocking, and maybe it was in his head and maybe it wasn't, but did it matter? They saw what they saw, they heard what they heard, and whether it was real or not it was real to them.
Bashing their fucking heads in took more effort with these monsters, they were bigger, and as satisfying as it was there wasn't time. Knives and batons, they were for slow. But guns, guns were quick, and so away went the bloody baton, out came his gun. He could dodge and weave, he'd learned that skill a long time ago, and Luke reached out with his free hand to grab hold of Wren's, fingers wound tight, and he tugged. They had to run, run, and he shot at the things that laughed when they got too close, but he didn't stop. Down the stairs, down, with no real direction except for away.]