finalflight | OPEN POST; [ JAMES SUNDERLAND / SILENT HILL 2 ]

You really know this place well, huh?

[ It stands to reason, if James has been here before. Perhaps it will eventually become apparent that the place the town is leading them to is the place where James' journey originally began: back to the graveyard on the outskirts of town.

For now, though, the immediate way forward is blocked, so... ]

I'll follow your lead. Just stick close in case more of those things show up.

Don't worry. I'm not going anywhere.

[At least, he doesn't really plan to.

They decide to take a little detour, and James begins walking down the other street, to slip into the alleyway.]

And yeah, I don't think I can tell you how many times I had to backtrack in this place just to get where I wanted. I found a few maps of the town, too, and that helped.

[Which adds to the slight irony of James feeling... turned around once they pass through the alleyway and cut through an empty, dusty bar. Because, ironically, yes, this appears to lead in the opposite direction of where he intends to go — but how is that possible when the hotel could not be farther away from the graveyard?

Yet they approach a creaky gate, and there's no doubt about where they are. James approaches the entrance with confusion clear on his face.]

What the hell?

[ Ivan has no concept of the geography of this place, so he has no reason to feel disoriented when they end up somewhere they should not have been able to get to so fast. ]

What?

[ Wait, is this the entrance to a... graveyard? ]

... Oh.

This is the opposite of where I was taking us.

[He sounds frustrated but also resigned in equal measure. This town will force them in any direction it chooses, no matter if it makes no directional sense. At least it isn't making them jump into bottomless holes—

He reaches out, giving the metal gate a push. It swings open easily, with only a gentle, squeaking protest. Beyond, it's much like James remembered it: a large graveyard thick with fog, with dreary headstones dotted about. A stone church looms in the distance, just a hazy shape from where they stand.

However, unlike before, vines wend around the ground, some even crawl up headstones. If they're not careful, they could trip over one or two, catching them on the toe of their shoes.]

We're at the outskirts of town, now.

Taking the grim reaper to a graveyard is a little on the nose, isn't it?

[ Those vines sure are everywhere, crawling over every surface. They even snake their way up the gate once they pass through, blocking off any chance they have at turning back. ]

So much for getting you to the hotel, I suppose. Sorry.

[ The vines seem to be originating here, at least. Following them might be a good move, but there's movement among the grave markers. More of those strange, skull-faced creatures lurking in the fog.

There's also a shed nearby, presumably for the groundskeeper. Does James need an upgrade from his pipe? ]

Then maybe we should have expected it, if it was the obvious choice. [He shakes his head, though, dismissing the apology.] Not your fault, come on. We'll make our way there eventually.

[Besides, this seems... important. As thought the vines are leading them to one spot in particular; and that's worthy of investigation.

He steps forward, having no choice but to venture forth now, casting about. Monstrous figures in the distance—god, he misses his radio—and a nearby shed. Instinct compels him in the direction of where he could possibly gather useful supplies first, and he says in a hushed tone:]

Let's look there first.

[Time to creep in that direction! Follow him, buddy.]

[ The good ol' survival horror technique of checking everywhere for useful items. Ivan gives a nod, motioning for James to go. ]

I'll watch our backs.

[ Creep creep... don't trip on any vines or step on any twigs! Right now, the creatures don't seem to realize they're there. ]

[He’s quiet-footed! This isn’t his first rodeo… Though if they have to move any faster, that might be a different story.

For now, though… Is the door to the shed unlocked?]

[ Of course it's not. It can't be that easy. There's a big ol' padlock barring their way. Ivan makes a bit of a face. ]

Of course. I could break it down, but that won't make us any friends.

[ Or rather, it will make them too many friends. ]

[Pushes against the locked door for like the 500th time in his lifetime ever, to no avail.

Makes a disgruntled noise.]

Just great. Hold on...

[What if he tries a window? Or is that a no-go, too?]

[ Rusted shut. :) ]

You really think there's something worthwhile in there?

[OF COURSE IT IS]

Maybe, maybe not. But not all of us have a magic scythe. I’d like to have more to my name than just a rusty pipe again…

[Huffs.]

Do it. Break the lock. Just be prepared to move fast after.

[ Break the lock? No, no, no. Ivan rears back with one well-polished shoe, and lays into the door, kicking it down in a shower of wood splinters and no small amount of noise.

There's a beat of silence, then the sounds of low growls start to sound through the fog. ]

Go quick.

[ Said as he summons his scythe into his hands, turning to face whatever might come their way in the meantime. ]

[IVAN… oh my god—

Welp. He better move. James dashes inside, frowning against the shadows in the badly-lit shed, wishing he had his flashlight. But the light flooding in from the broken door will have to do, and he hurries to scrounge around—

Toolboxes. More toolboxes. Gardening supplies. Nothing of use, unless he wants to steal a rake, which feels like a huge downgrade to his pipe.]

Shit…

[But there, in the corner, almost forgotten, is a rusty looking chainsaw. James feels a spike of… anticipation, and he hurries over to grab it and immediately see if he can pull the cord to get it started.

…how’s it going over there, Ivan?]

[ He's got two of those weird skull-dog-creatures on him right now, with one already lying dead at his feet, but they're proving difficult. The moment he beats one back to get some space to use his weapon, the other leaps in to engage instead. Thorns and teeth alike are tearing into him in equal measure. ]

Get off of me, you damn things!

[ One of the beasts clamp its jaws around Ivan's free arm, bone crunching under the force. Vines lash out to wind around his other arm, the one holding the scythe, and pull taut.

So, it's not going great! ]

[Well, fuck.

James rips at the pullcord of the chainsaw, again and again. It sputters, and sputters…]

Come on, you piece of junk—!

[The damn thing has to start. It has to, or they’re all in big trouble, given the current state of Ivan — not doing too hot.

He tries again, pulling with a frustrated growl. And the chainsaw roars to life, its teeth buzzing angrily, and he hefts it up, turning on his heel to face the entrance of the shack.

James might just be a normal human guy, but now he’s a normal human guy with a chainsaw. One who immediately rushes forward with a yell, teeth of his new weapon first, to drive it straight into the nearest monster.]

[ Ivan has no way of knowing what the hell is going on in the shed behind him, so the sudden roar of a chainsaw is startling to say the very least.

The monster James lays into is the one that has Ivan's weapon arm held hostage, and the vines go limp as the chainsaw carves it in two. Now free, Ivan surges forward to drives the skull of the beast still latched onto him into the nearest grave marker. One, two, three times, dashing it to pieces.

His arm is already healing, broken bones snapping back into place, as he brings it up to take his scythe in a two-handed grip. ]

We should run. Follow the vines.

[ It's not like a chainsaw is quiet. There are more of those things closing in. ]

... Thanks for the save.

[The monster is carved neatly through with the chainsaw, vines severing as though they were normal plants and not the strange tendons of a hellish creature. Good. Apparently its rusty appearance has little bearing on its efficacy.

He watches as Ivan dispatches with the other monster, its head beaten against the gravestone. The display of violence doesn't bother him as much as it should, though watching those broken bones snap back into place is still bizarre. He's not sure it ever won't be concerning.

But for now, there's no time to dwell on it. Adrenaline is surging through him, the chainsaw's motor still putters loudly enough to attract attention, and they need to move. James sets his jaw and nods, then rushes forward.]

Sorry I wasn't faster-!

[But perhaps he'll be more useful now; his pipe is left behind in the shed as they flee, following the long length of the vines. Maybe there'll be some kind of sanctuary from these monsters wherever it leads them.]

[ He doesn't offer a response to that apology. Partly because it's not warranted, but mostly because it's time to go. Ivan takes off in a sprint, though not so fast that he doesn't leave James behind, leaping over headstones and winding around trees and shrubs to follow the dark, creeping tendrils of vines.

A structure does soon make itself apparent through the fog: a stone mausoleum, choked in vines spewing forth from the hands of the crumbling and moss-covered angel statue atop its roof. There really is nowhere else to go, with thorns and creatures blocking off all other avenues.

Ivan all but throws himself against the stone door, pushing with all his might to get it to scrape open enough for him and James to pass through. ]

Go, go.

[ Unnoticed as they slip into the darkness with monsters at their heels is the simple, worn engraving at the top of the door, cast in shadow and grown over by vines:

Roza Niklaus
beloved wife

Ivan shoves the door shut behind them, making the darkness and the silence absolute. ]

[James is booking it as fast as he can. His efforts put him a few paces behind Ivan, but it's still impressive, given that he's lugging a new chainsaw around. It might not be the heaviest thing in the world, but it's unwieldy and probably not the best idea to run while its motor is still going, but they don't exactly have the luxury of time.

He doesn't even give thought to where they end up; not the angel statue, not the worn engraving above the entryway. Only the fact that they barely make it in before the monsters are scraping at the stone on the other side. Only that once he kills the chainsaw's motor, they're left with baleful silence and an inky black darkness.

James catches his breath. For good or ill, at least it breaks up the empty quietude.]

Ivan? [He really can't see anything in here.] Jesus, it's pitch black.

[ WHO? (no i'm kidding) ]

I'm here.

[ There's a bit of shuffling and a moment later, an orb of pale white flame springs into being between them. It doesn't give off any heat, but the light is plenty. It reveals that they're on a stone landing, and before them is a staircase stretching down into the darkness. ]

Those things didn't get you, did they?

[The light blooms and casts light, illuminating the space. Like this, it's far more obvious what sort of structure they've bolted into — is this seriously a mausoleum?]

Nice trick. And no, I think I'm fine... somehow.

[He won't second guess his luck. Besides, he feels that luck is about to be tested when he sees a long, long staircase heading downwards below them.]

You've got to be kidding me...

[If he had a nickel for every time he had to go down a long set of mysterious stairs trailing into darkness, he'd have two nickels. Which isn't a lot, but it's weird that it's happened twice.]

Looks like we're heading down. That can't be anything good.

[ Ivan's gaze flicks down to the chainsaw still in James' hands, and the corner of his lips quirk, ever slight. ]

I guess breaking into that shed was worthwhile after all.

[ He's never had someone to watch his back before. He doesn't really have the need, but... James coming to his aid regardless was a pleasant kind of surprising. Maybe that's another mystery he'll unravel while he's here. ]

This whole experience hasn't been anything good so far. Why start now?

[ Down they go, the little flame bobbing along with them. ]

[A little wry "ha," even if it sounds louder than it is within the confines of the mausoleum.]

What, so I can be noisier and messier? Lucky you.

[But James has a similar feeling, now, even if it took a bit to come around to it: not going at this alone (again) is its own comfort. He needn't face the darkness, the ceaseless dread this town can throw at a person, completely alone. It's a small weight off his shoulders, to share that burden.

He follow, a couple of steps behind.]

So do you think Silent Hill is really leaning into your entire "reaper" role, or...?

[Or does this place mean anything special to you, Ivan? Can he even tell?]

I've already demonstrated that stealth isn't my strong suit.

[ Mister kicking down the door...

He glances over his shoulder at James, turning the question over in his head. ]

My best guess is it's leaning into my relationship with death, more than anything.

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