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entrancelogs2007-08-10 10:50 pm
picksupstrays.livejournal.com) wrote in entrancelogs2007-08-10 10:50 pm
harry and james and GOD [complete]
Those partaking in the Silent Hill event should really effin' read this. Right after this log takes place, that is when the mansion shifts.
Who: Harry Mason and James Sunderland
Where Outside of room 302
When: Late evening of 8/10/07
Rating: PG-13 for creepiness in general.
Summary: Harry sets out to leave 302 alone, but James is set on going there.
the Story:
The whisper is not one he knows, when he listens to what's behind the door. It's a gasp, choking -- he can tell it's not pleased. It struggles to speak.
It says his name.
Leon is right; he needs to stay safe. Mostly, he needs to stay with Alessa and the others, make sure they're safe. That's the key point. He needs to stay useful to them -- and make sure he can keep Alessa grounded.
Still, it hisses.
"Harry." And She says, "I remem...ber you."
That's about when Harry had back away and left the floor. He wasn't hanging around much longer again, and the radio wasn't sounding too happy either.
Wherever James may be -- his room, the hall, the kitchen -- a radio will be. Old-fashioned, really. Dusty, cobwebs and all. It hisses white noise, no matter where he goes.
Every corner, there it is.
In a manner, it is taunting.
It hasn't been long since James last talked to Harry on the mansion's network. By now he's come to realize there's really nothing else that serves better inside, and thus, checking the computers (that always seem to work, even when nothing else does) becomes a frequent, daily habit.
Harry has mentioned going back, last he checks. Back to that eerie, rusty door they'd met eachother at last time. 302, third floor. His first habitual thought is that Harry must have a screw loose somewhere to want to go back. But the thought is very short-lived.
Why wouldn't he go back?
Lately, it sure seems, anyway, that wherever the most activity is, the more likely one was to find something to work with; something more than the whole lot of nothing James had, at least. Maybe something has changed up there? Has it gotten worse? Has it spread? There was only one way to know for sure, and sitting around wondering wasn't it.
James tires of doing nothing and glances over while reaching for the shotgun Harry had leant him from last time.
Going back to Alessa's room would... be the best thing. Part of him honestly dreads it, considering their latest conversation, but he isn't about to abandon her or anything drastic like that. Still, she's...
So damned morbid. Understandable, of course, but things aren't the same anymore. He can't understand why she isn't glad for that.
Sure, she's hardly normal -- he'll accept that -- but.
Harry tenses at the radio; it's not really calming down, but he doesn't really want to run into any other monsters, either. He'd like to keep the bloodiness significantly down.
"James," the radio closest to the named man hisses. "James..."
James tenses and immediately looks down at his pocket as he hears the static, expecting it to be his radio. But it isn't. How could he have forgotten it after last time? It's not his, but it is a radio. He doesn't relax, but he stays calm and looks for where the noise is coming from. Which is...the wall?
He hears it again, this time more clearly, and knows for sure it was his name being said. In a female's voice. His eyes narrow. He comes closer, listening. At first, he can't place it. But it registers before long.
"... ...Mary?"
"James... James, where are y--?"
The static increases for a moment before her voice becomes clear again.
"The door is locked. James...? James... I don't want to be here, James."
The voice becomes obscured again by the white noise until the radio goes silent.
"Mary? Mary are you--?" He doesn't realize how pointless talking to a radio is while he's at it, but the static cuts for a moment, and he stops, trying to listen again.
"The door? What door-?" He asks, though subconsciously, he's pretty sure he already knows. He wants to be sure, though. He wants to hear it from her, or rather, hear the woman's voice again just to be sure it really is her.
There silent pause then is long enough for James to grow impatient, so he reaches up to grab the radio and take it with him. Luckily, it's seperated rather easily, and there's no wires that get dragged along with it. Hopefully she'll get through again.
The noise starts again and she says--
"That man--! ... Walter's keeping me h--"
The radio almost seems to tremble in James's fingers. Or perhaps that is a mere illusion.
"302, it's locked. James, James--!"
Static. Static. Just noise.
In turn, static screams in Harry's ears, and he's all too glad to manage to outrun the monstrous dog following him -- but it seems to be gathering up a pack of sorts. He isn't looking forward to this; just because he has a sword does not mean he's mastered it by any means.
He whirls around, katana in his hands, and dumbly sticks it out in front of him as one of the dogs leap, letting it impale itself onto the blade.
God damn, the blood again -- Harry wrinkles his nose and tries not to think about it, throwing the dog off and swinging at another.
He's almost distracted by the sound of... church bells in the distance.
"Walter-?" James pulls the radio back towards his face and looks down at it while he continues towards the stairs. "He put you in there?" Fingers are tighter curled around the trembling transmitter now, and his pace picks up a little. Truthfully, James isn't really sure what to think of any of this. Why would Mary be in room 302? What does Walter want her for? Before he'd even found himself in this place he was doubting what Mary.....
No. Something has just gone terribly wrong here, and James plans on figuring out what that something is.
wooden plank: He's on the third floor now, and the radio's crying something fierce. As soon as he turns the corner, there's a splash of thick, dark blood he barely manages avoid. James tries not to look surprised as he hoists the shotgun up, one finger on the trigger as he supports the weight and aims right at...Harry?
The radio gives no further clues about James's late wife. It remains in white noise, no matter how quickly he approaches. She speaks no further.
Harry, on the other hand, is still preoccupied with the sniffer dogs. He's injured one, but he stops when he notices someone around the corner.
With a gun aiming at him.
Wow, this feels familiar. Fortunately, James is no Kaufmann.
"H-hey, hold it--" Harry starts, raising a hand to wave the other man off before the injured creature snarls and tackles the brunet to the floor.
He does manage to let it gnaw its teeth on the katana in his hands, but he can't quite kick it off.
James quickly realizes it's Harry and lowers the gun before he's finished with his sentence. It doesn't matter much, though. He'd be cut off either way, with that deformed dog tackling him to the floor like it was. James jumps back a little surprised, his finger back on the trigger. He's moving away, preoccupied. But Harry seems to be having a little trouble.
Two shots and the disfigured animal makes a disturbing noise as falls off to the man's side, a more gorey sight than it already was. Lucky for Harry, James is smart enough to shoot from an angle, but he's already walking away, back down the hall towards 302. Mary's waiting, afterall.
Like he needs the dye job. Harry stares at the dead dog a moment before he rises to his feet, looking after James.
Where's he--?
...Oh. Oh no.
"James? James, hey!" Harry wipes off his face before he hurries to follow. "James, you don't want to go that way, trust me."
Did he still think that it was going to take him to Silent Hill? No, there's... the thing is inside there.
James doesn't really seem to hear Harry at first, unflinching as he continues to walk down the hall, focused and just cautious enough. The sound of the man's footsteps following him do register before long, however, and he speaks just loud enough to be heard, not bothering to stop or turn.
"I have to get in there," he states simply, a hand supporting the long barrel of Harry's shotgun as he approaches the rusting door, listening. It has gotten worse.
What the hell's gotten into him? Harry frowns and points at the door. "Look, we can't be near this right now. There isn't any way in, either. James--"
Both radios begin to shriek static, and the door trembles, chains rattling. It's like a bad horror film, but the rust slowly becomes more obvious as it crawls towards the two men.
"James!" her voice screams out. "Let me out!"
It starts to sound less like Mary, more like something else -- but Harry doesn't seem to hear the voice, or at least react to it. He looks concerned, though.
"James, we should get out of here."
James clearly isn't listening anymore. If it's about leaving, he doesn't want to hear it. No... He just doesn't want to hear anything that's not Mary or this door opening. He needs to get through, to get to her and know for sure. What was real? And what of his suspicions...?
The radios shriek and the door is trembling on its own. He hears her voice again, and even though it sounds less like Mary, or even a human, he gets desperate a little desperate. The rust comes off the door and chains and James somehow seems to think that shooting at it is a good idea. The gun sounds but there's no sign of the bullet. He pauses then, a curse under his breath, and suddenly he's reaching forward to fight the door with his bare hands.
What the hell is he doing--?! "James!" Harry reaches out, trying to catch the other man by the shoulder -- but he isn't that quick and misses him.
The door doesn't seem to fight back. Not immediately. But the rust bubbles and hisses, the chains starting to pop off the door at the first touch from James's hand.
"James. James."
The voice is a little more mocking.
"Go on. Open the door. Open the door, James. Save me, James."
Harry knows this is no good, the first sign of the chains dropping from the door. He reaches to grab James by the arm. "Stop it-- James, c'mon!"
What the hell is going on here?
James shrugs off the first brush of the other man's hand and pushes his own against the surface of the door as if to make sure it was still solid. They smooth around, fearless as Mary's voice calls him, somehow avoiding the chains as they snapped.
"It's open," his voice is low, almost too calm as he realizes this, reaching for the knob. His fingers curl, and his heart is pounding.
James honestly doesn't know what he's feeling then, but he admits to himself that he thinks it's some sick sense of excitement. The shotgun drops (and thankfully doesn't fire), and Harry is still pretty easy to shrug off.
Finally, the door opens.
Immediately, rust and blood rushes out, and the church bell rings louder, almost madly. Inside the room, barbed wire snakes out, whipping around and stabbing the wall behind the two men, but not striking them.
Inside is the God, hanging on the wire, imbedded into the rotting corpse.
She gasps, then smiles.
"Thank you, James." It's spoken, halfway in Mary's voice, halfway Her own.
Her twitching eyes turn to Harry. She sneers.
"Harry Mason!"
Every possible curse floods into Harry's mind and he reels back before he grabs onto James's sleeve. "James!" he snaps at him, far more forcefully than before. The smartest idea is to run, but he's not abandoning the other man, even if he's basically unleashed something.
James can't help but just stare, looking utterly lost, bewildered by the sight. The sound of the church bells make his head want to split, and he squints slightly at that, but he's still searching, looking amidst the barbwire and the mess with his eyes; he has pointless hope, even as the other man pulls at his arm harder than before. He already knows he's made a mistake, in the far corner of his mind. Mary wasn't here. That thing wasn't Mary, that wasn't even her voice anymore. Was this...
"Harry-?"
...revenge?
He isn't sure how strong the barbed wire is, but Harry is mangaging to cut through some of it to escape the God in room 302. The grip is far more firm and Harry has no qualms in dragging James along to get the hell out of there.
Once there's a path managed, he yanks on the other man to pull him along into a run. He has no idea where to -- what the hell is going to happen...?
The radio in his coat pocket screams to life.
"Harry Mason!"
The church bells suddenly stop ringing. What builds up instead is that damned air raid siren--
"Shit." Harry stops running, if only so he can shove James, hopefully get him to his own feet. This isn't good, got to get out of here.
James stumbles to his feet, picking his legs up as Harry more or less forces him to move. He can't say he was ready to leave yet, even after seeing that thing, but he's certainly not fighting it.
He hears the man curse after the air raid sirens start, and fortunately this makes him become more alert. James just runs now, following Harry for now as he takes one glance back, seeing the barbed wires and the mess still left at room 302.
What the hell had he just done?
Who: Harry Mason and James Sunderland
Where Outside of room 302
When: Late evening of 8/10/07
Rating: PG-13 for creepiness in general.
Summary: Harry sets out to leave 302 alone, but James is set on going there.
the Story:
The whisper is not one he knows, when he listens to what's behind the door. It's a gasp, choking -- he can tell it's not pleased. It struggles to speak.
It says his name.
Leon is right; he needs to stay safe. Mostly, he needs to stay with Alessa and the others, make sure they're safe. That's the key point. He needs to stay useful to them -- and make sure he can keep Alessa grounded.
Still, it hisses.
"Harry." And She says, "I remem...ber you."
That's about when Harry had back away and left the floor. He wasn't hanging around much longer again, and the radio wasn't sounding too happy either.
Wherever James may be -- his room, the hall, the kitchen -- a radio will be. Old-fashioned, really. Dusty, cobwebs and all. It hisses white noise, no matter where he goes.
Every corner, there it is.
In a manner, it is taunting.
It hasn't been long since James last talked to Harry on the mansion's network. By now he's come to realize there's really nothing else that serves better inside, and thus, checking the computers (that always seem to work, even when nothing else does) becomes a frequent, daily habit.
Harry has mentioned going back, last he checks. Back to that eerie, rusty door they'd met eachother at last time. 302, third floor. His first habitual thought is that Harry must have a screw loose somewhere to want to go back. But the thought is very short-lived.
Why wouldn't he go back?
Lately, it sure seems, anyway, that wherever the most activity is, the more likely one was to find something to work with; something more than the whole lot of nothing James had, at least. Maybe something has changed up there? Has it gotten worse? Has it spread? There was only one way to know for sure, and sitting around wondering wasn't it.
James tires of doing nothing and glances over while reaching for the shotgun Harry had leant him from last time.
Going back to Alessa's room would... be the best thing. Part of him honestly dreads it, considering their latest conversation, but he isn't about to abandon her or anything drastic like that. Still, she's...
So damned morbid. Understandable, of course, but things aren't the same anymore. He can't understand why she isn't glad for that.
Sure, she's hardly normal -- he'll accept that -- but.
Harry tenses at the radio; it's not really calming down, but he doesn't really want to run into any other monsters, either. He'd like to keep the bloodiness significantly down.
"James," the radio closest to the named man hisses. "James..."
James tenses and immediately looks down at his pocket as he hears the static, expecting it to be his radio. But it isn't. How could he have forgotten it after last time? It's not his, but it is a radio. He doesn't relax, but he stays calm and looks for where the noise is coming from. Which is...the wall?
He hears it again, this time more clearly, and knows for sure it was his name being said. In a female's voice. His eyes narrow. He comes closer, listening. At first, he can't place it. But it registers before long.
"... ...Mary?"
"James... James, where are y--?"
The static increases for a moment before her voice becomes clear again.
"The door is locked. James...? James... I don't want to be here, James."
The voice becomes obscured again by the white noise until the radio goes silent.
"Mary? Mary are you--?" He doesn't realize how pointless talking to a radio is while he's at it, but the static cuts for a moment, and he stops, trying to listen again.
"The door? What door-?" He asks, though subconsciously, he's pretty sure he already knows. He wants to be sure, though. He wants to hear it from her, or rather, hear the woman's voice again just to be sure it really is her.
There silent pause then is long enough for James to grow impatient, so he reaches up to grab the radio and take it with him. Luckily, it's seperated rather easily, and there's no wires that get dragged along with it. Hopefully she'll get through again.
The noise starts again and she says--
"That man--! ... Walter's keeping me h--"
The radio almost seems to tremble in James's fingers. Or perhaps that is a mere illusion.
"302, it's locked. James, James--!"
Static. Static. Just noise.
In turn, static screams in Harry's ears, and he's all too glad to manage to outrun the monstrous dog following him -- but it seems to be gathering up a pack of sorts. He isn't looking forward to this; just because he has a sword does not mean he's mastered it by any means.
He whirls around, katana in his hands, and dumbly sticks it out in front of him as one of the dogs leap, letting it impale itself onto the blade.
God damn, the blood again -- Harry wrinkles his nose and tries not to think about it, throwing the dog off and swinging at another.
He's almost distracted by the sound of... church bells in the distance.
"Walter-?" James pulls the radio back towards his face and looks down at it while he continues towards the stairs. "He put you in there?" Fingers are tighter curled around the trembling transmitter now, and his pace picks up a little. Truthfully, James isn't really sure what to think of any of this. Why would Mary be in room 302? What does Walter want her for? Before he'd even found himself in this place he was doubting what Mary.....
No. Something has just gone terribly wrong here, and James plans on figuring out what that something is.
wooden plank: He's on the third floor now, and the radio's crying something fierce. As soon as he turns the corner, there's a splash of thick, dark blood he barely manages avoid. James tries not to look surprised as he hoists the shotgun up, one finger on the trigger as he supports the weight and aims right at...Harry?
The radio gives no further clues about James's late wife. It remains in white noise, no matter how quickly he approaches. She speaks no further.
Harry, on the other hand, is still preoccupied with the sniffer dogs. He's injured one, but he stops when he notices someone around the corner.
With a gun aiming at him.
Wow, this feels familiar. Fortunately, James is no Kaufmann.
"H-hey, hold it--" Harry starts, raising a hand to wave the other man off before the injured creature snarls and tackles the brunet to the floor.
He does manage to let it gnaw its teeth on the katana in his hands, but he can't quite kick it off.
James quickly realizes it's Harry and lowers the gun before he's finished with his sentence. It doesn't matter much, though. He'd be cut off either way, with that deformed dog tackling him to the floor like it was. James jumps back a little surprised, his finger back on the trigger. He's moving away, preoccupied. But Harry seems to be having a little trouble.
Two shots and the disfigured animal makes a disturbing noise as falls off to the man's side, a more gorey sight than it already was. Lucky for Harry, James is smart enough to shoot from an angle, but he's already walking away, back down the hall towards 302. Mary's waiting, afterall.
Like he needs the dye job. Harry stares at the dead dog a moment before he rises to his feet, looking after James.
Where's he--?
...Oh. Oh no.
"James? James, hey!" Harry wipes off his face before he hurries to follow. "James, you don't want to go that way, trust me."
Did he still think that it was going to take him to Silent Hill? No, there's... the thing is inside there.
James doesn't really seem to hear Harry at first, unflinching as he continues to walk down the hall, focused and just cautious enough. The sound of the man's footsteps following him do register before long, however, and he speaks just loud enough to be heard, not bothering to stop or turn.
"I have to get in there," he states simply, a hand supporting the long barrel of Harry's shotgun as he approaches the rusting door, listening. It has gotten worse.
What the hell's gotten into him? Harry frowns and points at the door. "Look, we can't be near this right now. There isn't any way in, either. James--"
Both radios begin to shriek static, and the door trembles, chains rattling. It's like a bad horror film, but the rust slowly becomes more obvious as it crawls towards the two men.
"James!" her voice screams out. "Let me out!"
It starts to sound less like Mary, more like something else -- but Harry doesn't seem to hear the voice, or at least react to it. He looks concerned, though.
"James, we should get out of here."
James clearly isn't listening anymore. If it's about leaving, he doesn't want to hear it. No... He just doesn't want to hear anything that's not Mary or this door opening. He needs to get through, to get to her and know for sure. What was real? And what of his suspicions...?
The radios shriek and the door is trembling on its own. He hears her voice again, and even though it sounds less like Mary, or even a human, he gets desperate a little desperate. The rust comes off the door and chains and James somehow seems to think that shooting at it is a good idea. The gun sounds but there's no sign of the bullet. He pauses then, a curse under his breath, and suddenly he's reaching forward to fight the door with his bare hands.
What the hell is he doing--?! "James!" Harry reaches out, trying to catch the other man by the shoulder -- but he isn't that quick and misses him.
The door doesn't seem to fight back. Not immediately. But the rust bubbles and hisses, the chains starting to pop off the door at the first touch from James's hand.
"James. James."
The voice is a little more mocking.
"Go on. Open the door. Open the door, James. Save me, James."
Harry knows this is no good, the first sign of the chains dropping from the door. He reaches to grab James by the arm. "Stop it-- James, c'mon!"
What the hell is going on here?
James shrugs off the first brush of the other man's hand and pushes his own against the surface of the door as if to make sure it was still solid. They smooth around, fearless as Mary's voice calls him, somehow avoiding the chains as they snapped.
"It's open," his voice is low, almost too calm as he realizes this, reaching for the knob. His fingers curl, and his heart is pounding.
James honestly doesn't know what he's feeling then, but he admits to himself that he thinks it's some sick sense of excitement. The shotgun drops (and thankfully doesn't fire), and Harry is still pretty easy to shrug off.
Finally, the door opens.
Immediately, rust and blood rushes out, and the church bell rings louder, almost madly. Inside the room, barbed wire snakes out, whipping around and stabbing the wall behind the two men, but not striking them.
Inside is the God, hanging on the wire, imbedded into the rotting corpse.
She gasps, then smiles.
"Thank you, James." It's spoken, halfway in Mary's voice, halfway Her own.
Her twitching eyes turn to Harry. She sneers.
"Harry Mason!"
Every possible curse floods into Harry's mind and he reels back before he grabs onto James's sleeve. "James!" he snaps at him, far more forcefully than before. The smartest idea is to run, but he's not abandoning the other man, even if he's basically unleashed something.
James can't help but just stare, looking utterly lost, bewildered by the sight. The sound of the church bells make his head want to split, and he squints slightly at that, but he's still searching, looking amidst the barbwire and the mess with his eyes; he has pointless hope, even as the other man pulls at his arm harder than before. He already knows he's made a mistake, in the far corner of his mind. Mary wasn't here. That thing wasn't Mary, that wasn't even her voice anymore. Was this...
"Harry-?"
...revenge?
He isn't sure how strong the barbed wire is, but Harry is mangaging to cut through some of it to escape the God in room 302. The grip is far more firm and Harry has no qualms in dragging James along to get the hell out of there.
Once there's a path managed, he yanks on the other man to pull him along into a run. He has no idea where to -- what the hell is going to happen...?
The radio in his coat pocket screams to life.
"Harry Mason!"
The church bells suddenly stop ringing. What builds up instead is that damned air raid siren--
"Shit." Harry stops running, if only so he can shove James, hopefully get him to his own feet. This isn't good, got to get out of here.
James stumbles to his feet, picking his legs up as Harry more or less forces him to move. He can't say he was ready to leave yet, even after seeing that thing, but he's certainly not fighting it.
He hears the man curse after the air raid sirens start, and fortunately this makes him become more alert. James just runs now, following Harry for now as he takes one glance back, seeing the barbed wires and the mess still left at room 302.
What the hell had he just done?