Miles Edgeworth (defyingxgravity) wrote in sh_chaos, @ 2009-04-09 13:43:00 |
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Current location: | Silent Hill? |
Current mood: | busy |
Current music: | The Terminal Show |
Entry tags: | henry, journal, thoughts, walter |
Fiction.
Title: Journal Entries of Henry's
By: Alex C
Rating:Okay for Most
Description: Henry keeps journals of his days in the room and begins on his dreams. He's in for a rude awakening.
Pairing: M/M
Disclaimer: All characters and places are property of Konami.
Dear Journal,
It’s a cold night outside of the windows as I can tell. I haven’t been able to get out of the apartment for weeks upon weeks now. I feel like I’m losing my mind. I can hear voices in the back of the room. The bathroom has me worried the most. Sometimes I can hear something… The bathroom is not safe. It has been days since my last shower. Nights begin to melt into days. Days into nights… I feel my body growing tired on me. I believe that…last Monday was the only chance I got of sleep. And what little of sleep I got was about only…four hours. Oh God… Food is running scarce here. I’m not sure if I should eat. The radio gives me a few channels. The news is mainly what I can get. None of my great music channels are available to me. The clock stopped two weeks ago. I have not the foggiest why.
Dear Journal,
Two days have passed by now. I think I hear a man’s voice speaking within the bathroom. I can definitely hear it within my bedroom. I try to close my eyes and rest but that voice… He doesn’t want me to sleep. But he keeps on saying something about a ritual. I’m a bit shaken up now… I need more sleep but I’m afraid I may not be alive if I do fall into slumber’s embrace. Oh please…! I just want to get out of this apartment! I want to breathe in the fresh air…
Watching the people go on by down below the apartment at the subway has become a hobby of mine. I think they cannot see me. Yea… That’s it. I can only see them from up here. I feel like I’m a prisoner in some kind of prison. This room feels that way to me. Days go by and I wonder why I can’t even get out. My neighbor next to me, she wonders by the door at times. I believe her name is Eileen. Eileen… Does she even know?
Dear Journal,
A day has passed on by… I peeked out of the peephole to see who was at my front door. It was the Super. He must be wondering where is the rent. I thought I slipped the envelope under the door last time. It’s like nothing is ever getting out of this place. Hell has me… The air gets so stale at times. There are other times when I swear that I can feel hands along my shoulders. Nothing strong of touch but I know someone is touching me. I believe it is that man… He never reveals his name to me. I can’t understand why he is haunting me.
I went to try and nap a while ago and I swore I heard footsteps in my room. What the hell is going on!? I’m getting so confused now days. Days… They used to be so care free and not so troublesome. Why did I move here in the first place? …I was…drawn to…
Dear Journal,
Oh god! Something very odd is going on… I laid along my bed and stared at the ceiling for hours. That is when it happened. I heard that man’s voice again. Now it was not about rituals… He said my name! MY NAME! How can he know my name? I haven’t even told anyone much. Henry Townshend. And he knew… I’m freaking out! He whispered my name and I thought I felt someone caress my cheek for just a moment. That is enough to freak me out! God… Why is this all happening to me?
Does anyone else in this hellhole of an apartment get this? I wonder… I sat on the couch and dreaded what would become of me. When that door ever opened…they would find me dead on the couch or floor. Shriveled up and eyes open like I’ve seen a demon or ghost. The phone doesn’t work! I wish I could call my parents… You know that feeling?
Dear Journal,
I watched some woman stand in front of the subway entrance to go down to them… I think it was in the day. I can’t tell the days from nights anymore it seems. I saw her… The woman was watching around her for a few minutes. I think she frequents around there… A hooker? After I moved from the window, I heard a voice within the room tell me she was not worth any time to save. What is that supposed to mean?! Every life is valuable. This man…he is cold. Yet for some reason he…he...is gentle to me. I believe that is for now.
I heard Eileen in her room… She was talking to that guy. I can see him sometimes when I look straight across from my window. His window is across from mine. I believe I heard his name. Richard… Richard, eh? Then when I spoke his name out, the voice spoke again. He told me that Richard was not so nice. His time will come… What? That was what I heard from this man’s voice. It’s like those I see…he despises. Despises… I wonder if he despises me. What if this is just a cover for this man’s main plot? I have no idea! I’m growing tired…
Dear Journal,
I heard the man speak again last night… He kept on calling my apartment mom. Mom? He believes this place is his mother? What is going on here?! I walked to the kitchen and this sudden chill swept over me. Sometimes I think this apartment is alive. It’s creeping me out. I did not buy this apartment to be killed in it… What does this man want? When will he reveal his self to me? It is not fair that he knows my name and I don’t know his! Is he some kind of dark angel? I feel at times it is like that.
Oh god! What is going on…? The room looks like it is breathing. I heard a knock on the door outside of my apartment room. I think it is…one in the morning. I could be wrong. Someone is at the door? I went to open the door and found out…nothing was there. I am losing my mind! That has happened twice to me now. Then sometimes I hear the fridge moan…but it doesn’t sound normal. It sounds like a dying cat is in there. The bathroom reeks at times… A death smell.
It’s probably close to five in the morning now. I can’t fully sleep… I’ve been woken up about three or four times now. I’m writing now to tell of this… Now I know that there is something wrong with my fridge. I heard a cat’s death meow. The last breath sound or a scratching noise from within the fridge. I went to look into the mirror of my bathroom and thought I saw a glimpse of this man. He has blonde-ish hair. …Blonde hair. Why is it that no one else but me can see him?