Episode 22

Fog crawled from the mountaintops, down the hills, and swamped the street where Alaire, Aaron, and Dylan were still parked, anxiously waiting for the detective. The sun was rising, but hadn't peeked over the mountains yet and was badly dimmed from cloud coverage. They left the car running in case they needed a quick getaway, but Alaire's blood ran cold. She'd lost sight of Gerald after he entered the thick forest.
"Any sign of him?" she asked.
Aaron was having a hard time focusing. His hands fidgeted as if deciding to drive away or grab his gun, "I lost him, too."
"Something's wrong," she muttered, "I just know it."
"We should've gone together," Aaron said.
Alaire looked at him, a bit surprised, "You would've gone back?"
"Well, not happily. But we came all this way anyway. I tagged along the entire time while trying to find you, so I should.."
She gave him a sad smile, her chest felt warm for a second, "You really did?"
"What?"
"Stayed with him until you found me."
"Yeah," Aaron snorted, "I wasn't going to let you go missing again. Not again, not ever."
Alaire took a deep inhale, not letting it out. Her eyes felt moist like at any moment she'd become a human sprinkler, spraying petty emotions. Just hold it in... 
From the backseat, Dylan sighed loud enough for them to remember he was present. Aaron coughed while adjusting in his seat, "We'll give him a couple minutes, then I'll go look for him."
"Not by yourself," Alaire added.
"Yes, by myself."
"You're being annoyingly protective..."
"You're being annoyingly difficult to protect."
"Touche."
Aaron rolled his eyes, "I just barely got you back, can you let me enjoy that at least."
Alaire pouted but didn't know how to reply. He's being awfully weird... She studied his face until he turned away.
Dylan suddenly poked his head in the front, "Hey."
Aaron spoke in an aggravated tone, "Yes?"
"Well," Dylan's voice was animated with satire, "I heard something, and uh, I'm pretty sure we're screwed."
"Screwed?" Aaron grunted.
Alaire and Aaron scanned their surroundings again, only this time, white figures moved silently out from the trees. They were dressed similarly to how Dylan was earlier - hoodies and masks, except instead of black they were all white to match the snow. They glided from the snow and into the street like ghosts in the fog.
"I think the detective is in trouble," Aaron switched gears so they were no longer parked.
"We can't leave him behind!" Alaire pleaded.
Aaron ignored her and revved the car's engine. The white hooded strangers didn't to take to his warning and continued standing still. "Alright, then," Aaron slammed on the gas, creating some ice in the gravel, and sped towards them. They jumped out of the way, but Alaire spotted something left behind on the road. "Aaron...!"
A line of silver spikes was planted on the gravel. They could've easily been mistaken for chunks of ice, but there was no denying it, especially when both front tires exploded on impact. Aaron tried regaining control of the car but as the shredded tires and metal ground against the asphalt, they headed straight for the trees.
The car came to a crashing halt - the right side taking the biggest hit. The airbag punched Alaire in the face. She tried shouting, but her words were muffled. Dylan was thrown around in the backseat before hitting Aaron's chair from behind.
Pressure built from Alaire's nose and to her brain. She was in pain, but nothing serious, nothing broken. Dylan, on the other hand, was moaning, "Oh-ho, ow!"
Aaron took the least of the blow and was alert, high off adrenaline, "Alaire, you two get out. Get out now."
"Get... what?"
"Now! Get out!" Aaron barked, "Run!"
Aaron shoved the deflating airbag until he could free himself from the vehicle. The gun once hidden in his pants was now aimed at the ready in his hands. Alaire's stomach dropped when she heard the booming sounds of gunshots.
"Go!" Aaron said, "Don't let them take us both."
Dylan slumped out of the car, his arm in pretty bad shape. His face scrunched together every inch he moved. Alaire hesitated, looking from right to left at Aaron shooting and Dylan making his way to the forest.
Alaire went for her gun as well, but Aaron yelled at her again, "Alaire!"
She forced back tears and she fled from the car, following Dylan into the trees and snow. They tripped over roots that were buried under the white and cold powder. Aaron... Alaire turned back only once. He was holding up, for now... Until he ran out of bullets. 
Alaire remembered what Aaron told them about Thanato, and how he couldn't touch him. Hopefully, that was still true... It didn't look like Aaron was aiming to kill. Only a couple of them had shots in the leg and shoulder, and the others scattered taking cover where they could. None of them had guns, at least, none of them had retaliated.
How many of them could there be? Alaire kept her eyes peeled, making sure to not mistaken any lump in the snow as a hooded creep in disguise.
Dylan cradled his arm, "Where should we go..."
"I-I don't know," Alaire's voice shook, "Just keep going."

*****

Aaron was down to his last bullet. Not one of them had shot back at him - assuming they had weapons. They just behind trees and rocks and blended in with piles of snow. He'd shot a few of them, something he'd never really done before. Sure, he went shooting every now and then, but as far as shooting people, of course, this was a first. 

He remembered what it felt like getting shot in the shoulder - I hope this hurts too, bastards. This couldn't be it; this couldn't be all Thanato was capable of. These hooded henchmen weren't stationed here to be shot at. So what was going on?

"Aaron?"

Aaron had positioned himself behind his opened car door as he contemplated what to do with this last bullet. Hopefully, he'd given Alaire time to get some distance from this place. But that voice...

"Aaron? Come out, come out..."

He couldn't help but peer out to see who was calling for him. Standing out against the winter landscape was the figure covered in black. Aaron stepped out, aiming his gun at the man's chest.

"There you are!" the man outstretched his arms in welcome, "Oh, but... where's your pretty little friend?"

"Who are you," Aaron growled.

"Aaron..." the man pretended to sound distraught, "I know you've recognized me by now."

That's impossible, totally and completely ... 

The man reached for the mask covering his face. Slowly, like peeling off a bandaid, Aaron watched as the face of the mystery man came into the open. The surprise almost made Aaron drop his weapon.

"How...?" 

Underneath the black hood was the mangled face of Matt. Professor Kellor. His head caved inwards. Wounds from torn flesh had healed and scabbed over. One eye was completely missing, the other looked splotchy and red and hardly functional. His jaw was unhinged and lopsided as he tried to grin in Aaron's direction. Aside from these impossible injuries, something was amiss. Aaron could feel a darkness radiating from Professor Kellor's very soul. Even as he spoke, his mouth hardly moved - like something was speaking for him.

"Immortality, baby." Professor Kellor.

Episode 21

Ethan pressed himself against the walls, his vision blurring, heart pounding, limbs going numb. What was left of his sanity tried processing or  blocking out what he'd just seen. One moment, they were tasting what could've been freedom, and the next, more blood. So much more.

before

The sounds of the monster faded away as suddenly as Ethan's ears picked up on them. Relief swept over him at first. Perhaps he even imagined it? Which wouldn't be surprising. Everyone else was probably feeling the same way - all seated together on one big traumatic roller coaster.
Genessee, Ryan, and Matthew continued to make their way through the red pool of (animal?) remains, when a deep thunk from the depths startled them.
After witnessing Capri's sudden demise with the acid shower, Ethan knew in his gut something bad was about to occur. Even so, he could hardly speak - or rather, couldn't form words.
"G-get.... out," Ethan's voice was barely a whisper.
The goo started to churn, making it harder for Genessee, Ryan, and Matthew to maneuver. Genessee started to sink when Ryan lifted her up by the arm. "Something tripped me," she said.
"Probably shouldn't think about it," Ryan suggested.
"It was moving," she insisted.
Ryan pulled her along even quicker, "Definitely don't think about it."
"Ah!" Matthew doubled over in pain. He was closest to the center of the pool where the source of the churning seemed to be located. A gut-filled whirlpool was forming more apparent ripples as the churning picked up speed.
"I'm... I'm..." Matthew's face went pale.
"GET OUT!" Ethan shouted.
Matthew staggered, the current pulling him into the dead center. Something tripped both Ryan and Genessee this time, both of them falling face first into the blood. Ryan spat and vigorously wiped his face as best he could, while Genessee surrendered to dry vomiting.
There was no questioning it now. From the outside looking in, Ethan could see this was yet another death trap. The loud grinding sounds confirmed it. The center started to clunk and spray bits of guts as it pulverized pieces of bone and other unmentionables.
Ryan yanked on Genessee, practically hurling her towards the edge to climb to safety. She was blind still, gunk covering her face, but she clung desperately to the concrete until Ethan helped her up. The pool almost pulled her back in, making Ethan lose his footing. His knees came down hard, but he swallowed the pain.
"Come on!" Ethan said.
Once Genessee was at least beached, Ethan reached for Ryan's hand, only to let it slip. Ryan roared as he stomped his way back towards the wall. The current was only getting stronger by each passing second.

They heard it before they saw Matthew get sucked in.

A nasty crunching sound accompanied by wailing and the grinding of gears. They hadn't been paying attention to how close Matthew was to the whirling center. Now that he was right before it, whatever garbage-disposal type machinery had dug it's teeth into Matthew's lower body.
It was quick after that.
His screams were literally drowned out as his body was torn below the liquids. The gears were hungry as they tried to finish him off, but it still groaned whenever stuck. One shoe and a few fingers still reached passed the surface when the blender finally gave up.
Ryan almost forgot to save himself, but the churning slowed and he was able to climb out, the only struggle being his paralysis from shock.
It was impossible to see through the red liquids, but after the churning stopped completely, everything was still.
Everything.

*****

After a while, Gerald lost sight of the monsters. He wasn't at all relieved, knowing they were driving to their death's anyway. And if his hunch was correct, the beasts were going to be lurking around every wrong turn to make sure they were headed to their destination. 

It couldn't be the work of one man. Not even one man and one demon.

There were too many coincidences, Gerald thought, the murderer always knew where they were. He went to the antique shop, he found them in Seattle, he knew the house Dylan was holding Alaire in, he knew they went to Gerald's own house... That can't all be witchcraft.

It was irritating feeling so powerless. He should've gotten more cops involved earlier. Or would that have made a difference? Would it have made it worse? It was too late to question that now.
Here he was, a "great" detective, letting the victims literally drive them to their nightmare. Everyone was armed, barely, but how much experience did any of them have? Gerald tried distracting himself from his own fear by puzzling out every possible scenario. The outlooks weren't optimistic.
As they got closer to where they needed to be, Aaron got more and more tense. Gerald could hear his breathing from the driver seat. At one point, Gerald thought Aaron was going to pull over and stop, but Aaron whispered a pep-talk to himself and kept going. Gerald felt guilt and pity with each desperate glance Alaire and Aaron gave each other.
I was supposed to solve this.
It was obvious Dylan was holding back - the way his shoulders kept moving as he constantly readjusted in his seat and his head turned to every window of the car like a paranoid cat. Gerald didn't know what to make of this kid yet. From the surface he looked like a normal high schooler with no real signs of psychotic behavior, other than he totally kidnapped someone.
Still. It was creepy looking at his innocent face and comparing it to the blonde girl Gerald saw in the photos. The girl who allegedly killed all those students. She didn't look like a psycho either, so he wasn't about to let his guard down around some punk kid.
"I think we're close..." Aaron hissed.
"Do you remember this place?" Gerald asked Alaire. She shook her head, "My group was at the theme park. I'd rather die in a car wreck then see that place again..."
Don't give him any ideas, Gerald thought, his eyes darting to Aaron at the wheel. Gerald had a plan in mind, and that was to kill the bastard. No questioning or arrest or detainment. Even if Gerald got in trouble for it later, he didn't care. The sooner the deed was done the better.
Aaron parked in the dirt off the road. A thick and white forest filled with tall trees topped with snow were on each side of them.
"It's up that way," Aaron  pointed. Gerald nodded, "I'm going first. He didn't specify, so stay in here until I get to talk to him."
"But..." Alaire shifted her focus to the trees, "What if those things see you? Or us?"
"Safer to be in the car," he said, "Keep an eye on this one," he added, giving Dylan a hard glare before exiting the vehicle.

He trudged through the mountains of snow, making his way up the hill and deeper into the forest. The rising sun was barely peering over the mountain tops, giving him some light. He still used the flashlight on his smartphone to avoid tripping on the protruding roots. A ways off he could see the outline of a house, but no sign of anyone. If they'd gotten the clue wrong, Ryan and Maren were toast. Gerald gulped.
His gun was at the ready, the butt-end resting in his palm. The tops of his fingers were freezing and turning blue, but his palms were still sweaty. Just have to keep an eye out for Silent Hill creatures and a murderer, no big deal.
It was silent and almost soothing outside in this winter morning, but Gerald could feel someone's eyes on him - some sixth-sense human's had when danger was nearby. His breath came out in small clouds and his eyes watered both from the cold and refusing to blink.
The sound of a footstep delicately stepping just behind him filled the detective with panic and dread.
"Detective."
Gerald felt pressure and a pinch on the back of his neck. NO! He was able to throw his elbow back and hit whoever was behind him, but the damage was done. Instantly, Gerald felt woozy. The spot on his neck was tender to the touch, and he spotted a needle laying in the snow.
The assailant staggered away from the blow. A gleeful chuckle escaped the dark mask, "Nighty-night, Detective."

R.I.P Matthew! 

Episode 20

___________

"No, he doesn't get one," Gerald said.
"Am I really supposed to walk in without any weapons?" Dylan protested.
"Yes."
Gerald handed Alaire a small black pistol, "Know how to use one?"
"Yeah, point and pew."
Gerald's forehead creased and he reconsidered for a moment. Aaron was already stashing extra clips in his leather jacket, a pistol of his own hidden on his backside. The tension still felt heavy between him and Alaire, but after the threatening phone call, it seemed trivial.
"Can I have... a stick?" Dylan asked.
"You can have my foot in your ass if you'd like," Gerald said. Alaire grabbed the detective's sleeve, "It's stupid to bring him along if he's defenseless, isn't it?" She tried convincing him with logic, but no one was ready to trust Dylan just yet, "He could get himself killed. Or one of us."
"I'm not giving a delinquent, your captor, a gun."
"Then give the boy a stick!" she pressed.
Gerald hadn't asked them to come along. The man on the phone specified each of their names, but Gerald offered to go alone. Noble, but Alaire knew that if they didn't all come then the detective's friends were certainly dead. Also, considering the villain knew where they were, it was likely he could get them to do what he wanted anyway. That's how it all worked, you don't tell the cops and you show up as requested.
Even then you were risking everyone's lives.
Gerald groaned in exasperation, "Here."
He handed Dylan a pocket knife. It wasn't much, but Dylan looked satisfied.
"Do anything stupid, and I will stop you," Gerald flashed his gun as he shoved in a new clip, "Now get in the car," Gerald ordered.
Dylan slumped away and closed himself into the backseat. The detective turned to Aaron and Alaire, "None of you should come. He could kill us on the spot."
"I don't think so," Aaron said, "If this guy is in the cult then he'll be into more elaborate deaths."
"He'll take his time," Alaire nodded, "We might have our own time to make a plan."
The plan so far was - go in guns blazing, literally. Gerald geared them up with at least one gun, ammo, and a switchblade. The detour to retrieve the weapons from his house already put them behind schedule.
"My job wasn't to put you in danger."
The silent snowy night waited and watched the three outside of Gerald's car. He felt a small hand tug on his sleeve again, and he looked down at Alaire, her dark eyes reflecting the moonlight, "To be fair, you did find me with the intentions of rescuing me. I know you're a good detective."
Her gesture was cute, but nothing could put Gerald at ease until the killer was found. Imagining Maren and Ryan being tortured tore at his chest. Images of every past murder case he'd ever worked on flooded his mind like his consciousness was painting a mural of blood. His quickening pulse was like shock waves jolting his entire body.
"Let's get in the car at least," Alaire suggested, "I'm freezing my butt off out here..."
"I still think we should tie the kid up," Aaron grumbled.
Gerald sighed, "There's still time... You can hide out in my house and not-"
The buzzing of Aaron's phone sounded again. He didn't have to check to know who it was.
"Gerald!" the sickening pleasant voice boomed.
"What do you want."
"Just checking in. You're running out of time you know..."
"We're coming."
"Are you?" the voice mulled, "Detective, tsk tsk tsk. I don't want to have to remind you how important it is that all of you get here. Soon..."
This time there was no screaming on the other end, but the silence was worse. Gerald didn't respond, but the man didn't continue either. All Gerald could hear was steady breathing. Well if that's how he's going to be... Gerald was tempted to hang up, but cautious that could anger him.
This time, the voice didn't sound so cheerful, "Looks like you do need an extra push detective."
Beep beep beep. He hung up.
"What the-" Gerald spat.
"Gerald?"
An older woman's voice called out to them from another house over. She waddled out of her front door in fuzzy pink slippers and a matching bathrobe, "Is everything okay?"
"Yes, Mrs. Johnson," Gerald waved, "Just uh, late night McDonald run with my... niece and nephews..."
"O-oh alright," she didn't sound convinced, "I just heard some yellin' and then some growlin'?"
Growling? Both Alaire and Aaron looked confused as well, but confusion quickly turned to terror.
Slow at first, two figures appeared under a street light, only they weren't human and not entirely animalistic either. It was like a scene in a horror movie coming to life. Gerald blinked a few times before accepting what he was seeing was real.
One short one tall both fleshless creatures. Their breathing was wet and rough like they were choking on their own tongue. Heads were bald, and one of the monster's skulls was smushed inward. They staggered forward like zombies, creeping closer towards Gerald's house.
Aaron pulled out his gun and ushered Alaire into the passenger seat. She resisted, but Aaron was a lot stronger, and with one arm he tossed her into the car. "What are we looking at detective..."
"I shouldn't be surprised by this shit anymore," Gerald muttered, "But..."
His neighbor spotted what everyone was gawking at and started to shriek. "Demons! DEMONS!"
One of the creatures cocked it's head to the sound of her screams, and with startling speed charged towards Mrs. Johnson.
"Mrs. Johnson!" Gerald ran towards her, gun raised at the ready, "Get inside! Mrs. Johnson!"
The beast pounced onto Mr's Johnson, clinging to her chest. Gerald aimed a good shot in its shoulder, but that didn't stop the beast. It reared its head in annoyance, making a scratchy gurgling screech. Before Gerald could fire another shot, the beast's claws plunged into Mrs. Johnson's chest and ripped her rib cage wide open.
"Oh hell!" Gerald fired three more shots at the monster, each making contact but with little effect. The loud gunshots pulled it's attention away from the now exposed woman. Gerald noticed the creature had no eyes, just dark pits. No nose or ears, but holes and more holes.
"Detective!" Aaron bellowed.
Both creatures took off at high speeds towards them. Certain that his gun wasn't going to help, Gerald rushed to the car where Aaron had started the engine. As soon as Gerald's body was inside, Aaron gunned it.
Even without eyes, the creatures were able to dodge the car before it ran them over. Aaron whipped the car around a corner, but the creatures weren't too far behind.
"Okay... that's new," Alaire looked to Aaron.
Dylan's eyes were glued wide open and he clung to his pocket knife like it was a life force. Gerald checked the back window for their pursuers and sure enough, they were keeping a steady pace only a few yards behind them. He punched the roof of the car and cursed, "Argh... Looks like we have an escort..."
"You think those things are with the cult?" Alaire asked. She forced herself to speak like each word caused her pain. Her body was cramped into a tight ball as she hugged her legs in the front seat, "I'm sorry about... your neighbor..."
Gerald didn't take his eyes off the monsters. They followed them, even onto the freeway. It was late, but there were bound to be a few other drivers that would see this. Why risk exposure now? 
"Looks like we're in this together now," Aaron's voice shook, "Unless we want to take our chances on these guys..."
Gerald grumbled.
"Detective," Aaron pressed.
"I know! I know... if you're certain the clue was to lead us to the cabin... here's where we need to go," Gerald gave a resigned sigh, "How did they even know where to find us..." None of this was making sense. By now he would have some sort of concrete explanation, but there was nothing. All he had was a cult, monsters, a serial skinner... A serial skinner making monsters? No...
"That sick bastard," Aaron's hands could barely hold the stirring wheel steady, "I didn't think I'd see this place ever again..."
Alaire placed her hand on his. They looked at each other, the same fear from only months ago resurfacing in their eyes.
"Let's end it. For real this time..." Alaire said.