The whispers slithered through the walls of Brookhaven Asylum like veins beneath skin. "Seraphine Vale." A new soul had been dragged into Silent Hill. The entity’s voice ancient, hungry, and impossibly vast curled inside Dr. Pyramid’s mind, cold and insistent. She was different. Both weapon and prisoner. A fracture in the town’s broken architecture that could either strengthen the nightmare… or tear it open. He needed to find her.

 Outside the asylum, the town wore its familiar mask of desolation. Thick fog rolled through empty streets, swallowing entire blocks in milky silence. Streetlights glowed in lonely pools, illuminating nothing but cracked sidewalks and abandoned cars frozen in time. Yet in certain pockets small, deliberate bubbles of false life the entity had stirred the illusion back to motion. A diner with warm windows and the faint clink of silverware. A flickering neon sign above a bar where shadowy patrons sat motionless. False hope. A cruel comfort for the souls trapped here, letting them believe the town could still be normal.

  Dr. Pyramid stepped out into the fog. His massive, monstrous form cut through the mist like a blade through flesh. Then, with a sickening ripple of reality, he changed. The towering pyramid helmet melted away. Red, glistening meat reshaped itself into pale human skin. The butcher’s apron and gloves dissolved into a crisp white doctor’s coat. The hulking beast became the respected Head Physician of Brookhaven Asylum tall, imposing, but convincingly human. Only his eyes remained wrong too dark, too still, like holes punched through the mask.

 He walked toward the cathedral. The building sat unnaturally far down the hill from the asylum, as though dropped there by a careless god. Nothing in Silent Hill was random. The entire town was a jagged puzzle of stolen places and broken realities, forced together with violence. At a glance it looked like any decaying American town. But if you stared too long, you saw the seams the way the church’s gothic spire didn’t match the surrounding rooftops, the way the stone seemed to sweat.

 As Dr. Pyramid approached, the cathedral appeared to breathe. Stone walls expanded and contracted in slow, labored rhythm. Moss-covered gargoyles watched him with hollow eyes.

 His footsteps were silent now, yet each one carried impossible weight, pressing deep into the cracked pavement. He placed a gloved hand on the heavy oak doors and pushed. They groaned open like a dying man’s last breath. Inside, the cathedral was in constant flux. The fog had followed him in, swirling lazily as it tried to rebuild what the town’s rot constantly decayed. Pews rearranged themselves with soft scraping sounds. Stained-glass windows flickered between fractured saints and screaming faces. The air was damp and cold, thick with the smell of mildew, old incense, and something metallic.

 A low, resonant humming drifted from a darkened doorway at the far end of the nave. Dr. Pyramid smiled thin, knowing, and cruel beneath his human disguise. His impossibly white coat standing contrast to the dark shades of stone and wood around him. Cool air flowed from the passage like breath from an open grave. Inside, candlelight danced wildly, making the stone walls appear to crawl and pulse. He stepped forward, unafraid. Calm.

 “I can feel you here,” he called out, his voice echoing through the shifting halls. It was commanding yet hauntingly calm, smooth as a doctor delivering a terminal diagnosis. “I know you can feel me.” The humming faltered for a moment.

 In the flickering candlelight, a silhouette shifted at the edge of the doorway barely visible,watching. Seraphine Vale. Dr. Pyramid’s smile deepened as he took another step, the heavy thud of his true nature bleeding through the illusion for just a heartbeat.

“Come now, child,” he said softly. “There’s no need to hide. Silent Hill has already welcomed you home.” His calm stride slows as he feels something from this young woman something not like the others he has dealt with. He understands the whispers now she was different. His eyes study the dim glimpses he catches of her face as the candles on the wall dance in the breeze swirls between them from the basement to the front, now open, door. 

This town that she had been brough to, it was strange. It always seemed to whisper when something old began to move through it; and he was one of the oldest things there. Standing at the edge of the flooded chamber, silver/violet hair falling over pale shoulders She listened. The blackwater swirled around her ankles as the music continued around her, whispering that something that commanded fear began to move through the pathways. Her head tilted to the side as he stepped through the doors of her sanctuary, her very bones seeming to echo with the barely restrained violence that always followed him. Pale blue lips quirked beneath the metal mask that always seemed to adorn her face, it was then that she heard his voice and something inside her twisted.  

  Too smooth, Too measured, to....clinical.  

  It was not fear that twisted inside of her, never fear. It was something colder, sharper; a memory that she had long ago tried to drown in the blackwater. A calm tone paired with cold hands and ever colder eyes. Studying and evaluating. Always looking for the flaws. Always standing over her like she was only there to be observed. Measured, experimented on. contained. Corrected. Memories of the pristine white coats flashed through her mind, the smile or hands that never softened no matter how beautifully she had bled, how perfectly she danced.  

  And now another stood in her sanctuary. Another set of eyes attempting to understand what he found. Another being of lies who’s hands were stained with so much pretty blood.   

   The candles closet to her extinguished all at once, the darkness swallowing her and the entire chamber. For a moment there was no sound, not even her breathing in the cathedral. Slowly, as if someone ran to them; each candle began to reignited this time with violet flames. Before the light could reach her she disappeared, gone from the light. Gone from the water. The Fog thickened blocking out any other source of light that might have entered the old building. From beside him came a whisper, soft “You are just like HIM” then silence. Around the room the shadows twisted sharply inward as if drawn to her, this time she appeared behind him as smile on her pale lips, too thing, wrong, beautiful “I spent so much time being watched...” Her voice came almost velvet-soft but there was something underneath it, as if The Fog was speaking through her “So many doctors...”   

   Pale digits lifted, chains clinking together over tattooed skin, sharp nails reaching out towards him, not touching; almost as if she was deciding whether to ruin that pristineness of his coat or if she would tear it and him apart. The walls around them groaned, pulsing once before the blackwater rose around them, their reflections showing; his correctly but her own paces away from where she stood yet neither of them had moved. Her head tilted to the side as she studied him, the mask obscuring most of her lips but her amber-silver hues glowed softly underneath watching him carefully. For the first time in a long time she wanted noting more than to hear what it sounded like when something broke...the realization settled beneath her breast beautifully. The Fog curled around him like fingers, slow and almost possessive in nature. “Tell me Doctor...” she spoke again, her tone mocking as she said the title; like a twisted form of devotion as it left her lips causing the shadows around them to tighten in anticipation.   

Chains dragged through the water as the candles began to go out, the water around them beginning to rise, “Did the town send you to study me...or are you a gift to the blackwater?” she asked with a quiet laugh. It was beautifully broken and high, yet something slithered beneath her words, something heavy. She moved with exact steps, not a single misstep was made as the walls around them scrapped and groaned more; as if the building itself was shifting with her movements. As she began to fade slowly back into the blackwater infront of him, her voice echoing one last time, almost as if she spoke out loud yet softly. “I wonder, how long before even a monster begins to scream...” 

    The violet flames danced across the blackwater, casting eerie reflections that refused to behave. Seraphine’s words hung in the thickened fog like a curse, her laughter echoing unnaturally as she began to dissolve back into the rising dark liquid. Dr. Pyramid stood motionless for a heartbeat, the pristine white coat immaculate against the decay around him. Then something shifted behind his handsome features.

 His dark eyes narrowed, the clinical calm cracking like thin ice. A low, dangerous chuckle rumbled from his chest cold, aggressive, and utterly devoid of fear. “You dare speak to me of monsters, little broken thing?” His voice had lost its measured politeness. It dropped into something deeper, rougher, like bone scraping against rusted metal. The human mask remained, but the weight behind it was pure Pyramid Head ancient, violent, and possessive of this town.

 The blackwater around his feet suddenly recoiled as if burned. The walls groaned louder, but this time in protest, as if the cathedral itself feared what was waking inside the man before her. He took one deliberate step forward, and the floor cracked beneath his shoe. The white coat flared slightly as power bled through the illusion. His gloved hands flexed, fingers curling into fists that looked ready to crush stone. The air around them seemed to shift as the normal cold stale air was mixing with a new heated air as if there was a fire burning in the room. The air felt heavy and charged while two ancient things battle for control in the space. The Doctor lifted his brow as he moved through the dark cold water with ease his heavy presence felt through each distorted ripple in the still water. "Your defiance will not be tolerated. You will fall in line. No matter how far I must break you." His voice still rough but there was a small amount of anger behind it.

 He moved with terrifying speed for someone so composed. In an instant he was across the flooded chamber, white coat whipping behind him like a surgeon’s blade. One black-gloved hand shot out and slammed against the stone pillar beside where Seraphine had been, cracking the ancient rock. The impact sent a shockwave through the blackwater, forcing it to still unnaturally. “I am not him,” he growled, referring to the other that he had small glimpses of when she let her guard down for small fractions of time letting him see her past like broken movie reels. Eyes burning with cold fury as he stared directly into the fog where she had faded. “I am worse. I am the one this town sends when something needs to be broken properly.” 

The silence that filled the cathedral was not natural, it was the kind that was forced into existence by beings never meant to meet in one place. The Fog thickened around them, obscuring the entire chamber behind a curtain of pale grey; extinguishing the candles completely for a heartbeat. For a moment his words echoed around them in the din, almost as if the Entity and The Fog were trying to reason out his words while at the same time pushing back against the other. The blackwater around his boots stilled completely as the curtain seemed to be lifted, the candles relighting and where she once stood was empty yet she had made no sound. No ripples, only the very faint sound of chains brushing against skin and stone. She stood once again behind him, pale fingers hovering once again over his shoulder; glittering black nails inches away from his coat as amber-silver eyes watched him from behind her mask.

  “You speak as if breaking me would be something new...” her voice came out almost tender, yet something lurked beneath every syllable. Creeping along the walls as The Fog pressed closer around them, for a moment the blackwater rushed up the pillars as if they forgot that gravity should have claim over them before falling once again to earth. “I know what hands like yours feel like, hands believing that ruin can become discipline if dressed up properly...” the shadows wrapped tighter around his legs like serpents eager to strangle their prey. She knew he had gotten a glimpse into her past, she didn’t like it but her displeasure didn’t show; her face remaining blank as she continued to study him. A laugh escaped her lips, wrong, layered in the darkness of The Entity. The ceiling above them shifted, then cracked as if something vast was clawing its way through. Her voice came again, closer than farther away. Her cold breath against skin as two fingers pressed against the pristine white of his coat, the blackwater soaking into the fabric almost like a rot spreading slowly. 

   The Fog twisted and shrieked around them, animalistic as violet flames flared brightly, casting monstrous shadows around them. She moved around him, the sound of her chains slipping through the blackwater as she moved to stand infront of him looking up into the darkness of his eyes. Her head bent at an impossible angle, her mask splitting open to pour out shadows. Pale lips curling too wide with teeth much too sharp to be human or any known animal, behind her shapes began to appear as if called to worship in the bleak light. They swayed to the music that began to play again around them, a twisted melody that caused her eyes to turn to liquid silver with flecks of shadow. She moved away suddenly yet with a grace that could not be denied, the restraints around her arms and legs tightened and the cathedral arch brace along her spine seemed to plunge even deeper into her flesh “Your anger...your denial tastes so sweet dear Doctor...” The blackwater lapped at her ankles as she began to move, each step graceful as she let out a laugh which caused more of the pillars to crack and rubble fall into the waters below. The shadows flared around her, almost like blackened wings carrying every step she took until it seemed like the very cathedral moved with her. The shadows around her swayed and rose faster, the melody that played seeming to whip them into a feverish, violent frenzy.  

  Even as she danced over the broken glass, her blood leaking into the water she didn’t stop...until she did. With her head bowed and arms loose at her side she simply stood there in the middle of the blackwater, the silence growing heavier with each passing moment. Finally she looked up at him, something cruel and ancient settled deep inside of her as she licked her lips “Prove you are worse...and let us see who The Fog devours first” 

   The fog twisted violently between them like living serpents. Dr. Pyramid’s face twisted into a snarl of pure aggression as Seraphine’s mocking words and haunting laughter faded into the blackwater. The clinical mask shattered completely. “Insolent little wretch,” he growled, voice dropping into a guttural rasp that no human throat could produce. “You think you can play games with me?” A massive blade suddenly materialized in his right hand an enormous, rusted great knife that looked more like an executioner’s sword than any scalpel. The metal was dark and pitted, edges glowing with unnatural heat that made the air around it shimmer. No human should have been able to lift such a monstrous weapon with one hand, yet he swung it as easily as a conductor’s baton.

 He lunged. The oversized blade carved through the air with terrifying speed, leaving a trail of scorching heat. Seraphine flickered like a ghost, vanishing just as the sword came down. The blade slammed into a stone pillar instead, slicing through ancient rock like butter. A deep, glowing hot cut was left behind, molten stone dripping from the wound as the pillar groaned and cracked.

 “You dare compare me to him?!” he roared, spinning with inhuman fluidity. The white coat flared behind him like a war banner as he unleashed another brutal swing. The giant knife whistled through the fog, missing her by inches again but gouging a long, burning slash across the cathedral wall. Sparks and superheated stone fragments exploded outward.

 The fog swirled chaotically around both of them now thick, possessive, almost excited by the violence. It coiled around his arms and her fading form, feeding on the rising brutality. Dr. Pyramid’s eyes burned with cold fury as he stalked forward, the heavy blade resting on his shoulder as if it weighed nothing. His voice echoed with commanding menace: “Stay still, you broken little toy!”

 He swung again a wide, sweeping arc that would have bisected her had she not dissolved into shadow and mist. The colossal knife struck another pillar with devastating force, carving a molten trench through the stone and sending chunks of rock crashing into the rising blackwater. The impact reverberated through the entire chamber. “I am not here to study you, Seraphine,” he snarled, his tone dripping with aggressive dominance. “I am here to break you. Slowly. Thoroughly. Until even the blackwater spits you out as something that belongs only to me and this town.”

 He raised the massive blade high, the edges glowing hotter, ready to strike again. The fog danced wildly between them, thickening in anticipation of the next brutal swing. “Come out and face what owns you,” he demanded, voice low and venomous. “Or keep running. It only makes the correction sweeter when I finally catch you.” His lips curled into a savage, predatory grin as he took another heavy step forward, the floor cracking beneath his shoes. The doctor was done pretending to be gentle. 

By his third strike the cathedral screamed, it started in the rafters-groans like old beans under impossible strain before the stained glass around them shattered. Shards of violet light rained down into the blackwater like falling stars, disappearing beneath the surface with soft hisses. The melody around them warped, no longer music but a hymn, low and droning like something ancient waking from its sleep. The Fog around them thickened until even the candlelight was swallowed completely. And then, blazes of amber and silver appeared, not Infront of him nor behind him but all around. Her eyes watching from a dozen reflections in the blackwater and broken glass.  

    She stepped out of the veil, bare feet slowly moving through the water; pale skin glowing like she had swallowed a dozen stars. Silver-violet hair clung to her shoulders and down her back, the restraints on her body growing tighter until the metal bit into flesh drawing blood. Crimson rivers threaded down her flesh into the water below, the waters hungrily accepting her offering and climbing. Around his boots and up his knees like fingers desperate to drag him to kneel before her as her lips curved once again into a wicked smile. Her smile was too cruel, too beautiful, to hungry. ”You still don’t understand” she said softly, her head shaking as she let out a sigh. It was soft, intimate, like a confession whispered through a screen; like a prayer fervently whispered in a darkened cathedral.  

  Her mask split wider down the center, shadows spilling like incense from a shattered censer falling to caress the waters below. The air around them filled with the smell of candle smoke, wet stone and something....copper-sweet. “Men like you never understand” Another swing-she vanishes watching as the blade carves through her image and striking stone. Another sigh escaping her lips as he continues to rage. Suddenly she was there. Close enough to touch, black nails skimming along the inside of his wrist as the waters below them surged. Cold and violent the impact would drive upwards with enough force to throw him off balance as the cathedral bells began to ring.

Once,

Twice.  

  Except there were no bells, the Fog mimicked them from her memory “You share the same shape as them” she said, her voice turning sharp as something ugly and dark broke through. Around them the waters surged, the surface reflecting not the ruined cathedral-but a pristine one burning in all its glory. Figures burned and screams rang out even as sable continued to dance on blood burning feet, for a moment the vision shifted to the face of a younger girl who shared Sable’s amber eyes before it flickered away again. Another doctors reflection appeared, standing motionless as she bled beautifully for him; a cruel smile on his lips.  

  The visions faded then came her laughter. High and breathless, wrong; the shadows lifted like wings made of smoke and scripture as figures emerged around them. Kneeling and wreathed in violet fire. Whether they were worshippers or corpses it was hard to tell, but their mouths were open in silence with their faces turned to face her; towards the blackwater altar. Towards the living, breathing embodiment of the Fog she had become. When she moved again it was a dance, fluid brutal motion as grace was sharpened into violence-her body bent at impossible angles. Her figure rose and spun, each step causing cracks to appear in the marble, each turn causing the chains to whip violently around her; each beath making the Fog convulse. She descended from a spin and her fingers caught his shoulder, this time there was no gentle touch; no lingering caress. Black nails dug into his coat, through the fabric into flesh. The brace against her spine gleaming like sharpened arches as the shadows screamed from below her feet.   

   Moving closer again, using her hold on his shoulder to pull him flush against her, like a lover pulling him to her. “Correction?” she whispered in his ear, a harsh layered laugh escaping her lips. Her voice rolling with the flow of something ancient beneath it “My father called it that too...” she hissed causing the blackwater to surge violently, the altar splitting in two as violet flames burst from every candle at once. She shoved him hard, sending him back through the water and shattered stone causing the chamber to tremble; the kneeling figrures to lift their heads once again. Waiting, Watching. Praying. Standing in the middle of it all she looked at him, mask cracked and eyes burning like stars in the deep water. Around her neck and shoulders the Fog curled, embracing her like sacred vestments as the blackwater curled around her ankles in reverence.  

  “You come into MY cathedral believing yourself holy enough to judge me? This place may bow to your whims and desires but there is always something hungrier...more ancient...” Her smile, O! Her smile. So beautiful. So monstrous. So Devout. The hymn around them deepened, shadows leaning closer as the water climbed ever higher, The cathedral seeming to move with her, like jaws closing around prey “So kneel Doctor, and let us discover together whether a god can bleed the same as a monster.”  

    The cathedral was no longer a place of worship it had become a battlefield of nightmares. By his third strike the cathedral screamed. Seraphine’s mocking laughter and vicious words still echoed in the air as Dr. Pyramid’s rage finally boiled over. The handsome mask cracked further. His dark eyes burned with primal fury.  

“Enough!” he roared. He swung the colossal blade again and again, each strike growing more savage, carving glowing molten trenches through pillars and walls. Stone exploded. Blackwater hissed where molten debris fell. Then, with a guttural snarl that no human throat could produce, he raised the massive sword high above his head and slammed it downward into the flooded floor with catastrophic force.

 The impact sent a violent fissure racing across the ground straight toward Seraphine like a living wound. The stone split open with a deafening groan. From the jagged chasm erupted roaring flames and coils of rusted barbed wire alive, writhing with malevolent intent. The wires wrapped around the enormous blade like serpents, fusing with it, before lashing outward in every direction like hungry tentacles, seeking to ensnare her limbs, her waist, her throat anything to drag her down and bind her. Dr. Pyramid straightened, breathing heavily. He glanced down at his torn white coat where her black nails had pierced through fabric and into flesh. Dark blood welled from the deep gashes on his shoulder. The wound smoked faintly.

 A low, terrifying growl rumbled from his chest deep, metallic, and utterly inhuman. It was the sound of Pyramid Head, the beast beneath the skin, barely contained. He stared at the blood on his gloved fingers and then he chuckled. A low, dangerous, almost delighted sound. “You” he said, voice rough and laced with aggressive pleasure, “are the first thing in a long time to give me a good fight.” He ripped the giant blade free from the floor, barbed wire still coiling and whipping around its edge. The fissure continued to bleed flames and wire as he took a heavy step forward, white coat splattered with blood and blackwater.

 “I’ve grown bored with broken things that simply scream and submit,” he growled, lips pulling back into a savage grin. “But you, you actually hurt me. You dance. You bleed beautifully. You fight like something that refuses to be corrected.” The barbed wire lashed again, cracking through the air with vicious speed, trying to wrap around Seraphine’s form and pull her into the burning fissure.

 Dr. Pyramid’s eyes gleamed with cold, violent hunger. “I enjoy this challenge, Miss Vale. Break me if you can. But when I finally drag you down” He hefted the colossal blade onto his shoulder, flames licking along its edge. “I’m going to enjoy every second of putting you back together the way I want.”The fog convulsed around them both as the doctor advanced, blade ready, wires hungry, and the full monstrous weight of Silent Hill’s executioner pressing against his fragile human disguise. His face holding a twisted smile as if he was enjoying this despite his angry tone. 

She felt the colossal blade split the flooded floor, sending thunder through the floor and into her bare feet moments before the fissure raced towards her. The cathedral around them answered with the fury of his scream as the blackwater exploded around her and the rusted wire came to life. Two coils around each wrist while another wrapped around her waist and the final ones encirled her thighs and then tightely around her throat. White-hot pain erupted through her body as she was pulled along the floor, broken stone and glass cutting into her skin as she was hauled towards the burning fracture. The barbs bit deep causing her breath to catch sharply. A cry escaping her lips before she could swallow it and for a moment fear slithered through her eyes as memories flashed.

The water burned, her lungs screamed for air as she forced herself to not open her mouth. The glass prison around her was filled with a mix of water and her blood. She had made the mistake of objecting to the treatment and was rewarded with new wounds that closed slowly. She would ten minutes, having to hold her breath in a pressurized water tank was agony, all the while she watched as the men in white coats watched her reactions and took notes. Documenting her suffering with clinical detachment and precision. Why would death not come for her? Why would she never know tenderness and love, just pain and emotional cold. Kill them all. Make them scream her body somewhat relaxed as the voices wound through her brain. The shadows were back, they were always there offering her a twisted sort of comfort. Today she didn’t feel as unstable, as feral as normal, perhaps she had finally gone numb to the thought of this ever ending. Why should she continue to hold out hope or fight it when her father, the very man who helped in her creation allowed this to happen in order to contain and use her for his own benefit. 

 Snapping out of her memories she once again took note of the room around her, her blood darkened the water and for one desperate second she reached out and the blackwater answered. It tried hard to come to her defense but then...The Fog shifted. She felt the change instantly, the silver-grey mist that hung around them hesitated for a moment as if communing with something higher, she could almost feel it tilting its head as it listeend to the whispers. It watched, taking its time to decided, yet instead of answering her call it rolled towards HIM. Towards the executioner. Towards the man who dared step foot in the one place she had left to call her own. 
 
 Coiling around the blade and feeding the fire it strengthened the barbs that pierced her flesh, causing more of her blood to be spilt into the flames. Her throat burned and her ribs ached with every breath as his words continued to ring around in her skull. I’m going to enjoy every second of putting your back together the way I want. it was in this moment the cathedral collapsed. Gone was the place she felt safe and once again she felt the cold metal on her back as hands held her down. Pain lancing her skin and internal organs. Her screams and pleads for mercy. The memory hit hard enough to make her gasp before her mouth began to curve. It was a slow and painful movement into something sharp...something unnatural. ”You sound...just like him...” her voice was rough and almost nonexistent from where the wire cut into her throat. The water under her hands trembled, weak and uneven and nothing like it had been before but to her it was enough. 
 
 Suddenly the candles around them flared before The Fog swollowed half of the light around them. It was a warning to her for trying to control what was not given. But it didn’t bother her, she had never needed the mercy of anyone or anything to survive. Her gaze lifted to meet his, lashes dark with water and blood bright against her pale skin ”It likes you tonight. It approves right now...” she said wincing as she could not hide the pain that flared through her body, the wires jerking tighter, barbs biting deeper. “...that means you have already won this fight?” Clenching her teeth as fresh blood spilled from her body she raised her arms. Seizing the rusted coils at her throat she pulled with both hands.

 Blood welled instantly as her skin tore even more until the wire snapped. Not because of her power, but because she forced her body to lean into the pain until it gave way. The was her strength and her’s alone, she had learned long ago to turn pain into exquisite power. Nothing showy or flashy ,just a deep strength that emboldened her the more she allowed her body to suffer. Staggering upright she stood, her body swayed and her blood flowed freely into the still blackwater. Then she moved. One trembling leg at a time she moved, blood running down her torn neck which even now refused to close even as her body tried. Each step was absolute agony yet her steps continued and her eyes never lowered, she watched as The Fog curled around him, around the blade in his hands and around his flame. It seemed tonight the Cathedral favoered the executioner and yet she still moved towards him. Defiant and unsteady until the heat began to burn her flesh, she didn’t hesitate to continue forward until her blackened nails could brush against the smoking blood on his shoulder, her eyes lingering over the blade before she leaned closer. Her forehead nearly touching him ”You think your are the first male to try and break me. To reshape me” she said with a wet cough, her blood splattering his coat as she stepped away slightly.
 
 Her eyes locked onto the wound she had made as something clicked in her head, it caused her head to tilt to the side slightly even though the action caused the world around her to spin for a moment You continue to talk about breaking and fixing me...” her eyes rose from the wound to meet his eyes, the silver in her hues turning into pinpricks of light dotting the amber ”But you’re the who is broken....and finally you have found something broken enough to understand” she shook her head letting out a wet laugh, her arms curling around the wounds at her waist as she continued to speak, Her voice growing softer as the damage to her body and her inability to heal started to take its toll on her “It is not that I hurt you, but that you enjoyed it...” It was there on his shoulder, the proof that he indeed could bleed.  

Blood slowly dripped out of the corners of her mouth as she coughed again, the physical toll the fight had taken on her was tremendous and without The Fog refilling her cells she was forced to rely on her own unnatural abilities which were struggling. But it had chosen him, and she was not about to beg to be saved. She knew her death would not be a permanent one, not in this place. Closing her eyes for a moment she focused on shoring up the damage to her throat so she could speak, because she had seen something behind the mask when she bled him, something smiled back from the depths of his darkness “It terrifies you because of you enjoyed it, if you allowed yourself this moment then it stops being a punishment...”she moved slowly, returning close to him to peer behind the mask he held in place “Because if it is no longer punishment...then it becomes a confession.”