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tampered2006-09-15 09:56 pm
alessalearnt.livejournal.com) wrote in tampered2006-09-15 09:56 pm
Log; Ongoing
When; Friday, September 15th, 9 PM
Rating; PG-13/R for graphic story-telling.
Characters; Alessa![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
alessalearnt, Henry wisdom_rcvr, & Rukia x_cryptic_x
Summary; Alessa tells Rukia and Henry her story.
Log;
Alessa sat in one of the pews of the chapel, the book of William Shakespeare's Hamlet, the Prince of Denmark propped open in one hand. She read the words carefully, taking in the strange vocabulary slowly. The words themselves were beautiful, an art that she had never noticed before. The written word was enchanting her slowly but surely, and she found herself wanting to read more and more.
Candles illuminated the chapel, the priest gone to bed quite some time ago. He had not disturbed the young woman as she sat and read, and Alessa felt at peace in the silence. The man's evening prayers were beautiful to her ears, but silence, sweet silence, was the best. She shifted in her seat slightly, and glanced at the figure of Christ on the cross - the Thorned King she called him - and wondered why he was always in so much pain and agony all the time. She wondered if she would ever meet him; she could tell him that she knew how he felt.
Straightening up in her seat, Alessa marked her page as she heard the doors to the chapel opened. She took a deep breath, closing her eyes for a moment, preparing herself for reliving the nightmarish hell that had been her life for the past twenty years.
Rating; PG-13/R for graphic story-telling.
Characters; Alessa
alessalearnt, Henry wisdom_rcvr, & Rukia x_cryptic_xSummary; Alessa tells Rukia and Henry her story.
Log;
Alessa sat in one of the pews of the chapel, the book of William Shakespeare's Hamlet, the Prince of Denmark propped open in one hand. She read the words carefully, taking in the strange vocabulary slowly. The words themselves were beautiful, an art that she had never noticed before. The written word was enchanting her slowly but surely, and she found herself wanting to read more and more.
Candles illuminated the chapel, the priest gone to bed quite some time ago. He had not disturbed the young woman as she sat and read, and Alessa felt at peace in the silence. The man's evening prayers were beautiful to her ears, but silence, sweet silence, was the best. She shifted in her seat slightly, and glanced at the figure of Christ on the cross - the Thorned King she called him - and wondered why he was always in so much pain and agony all the time. She wondered if she would ever meet him; she could tell him that she knew how he felt.
Straightening up in her seat, Alessa marked her page as she heard the doors to the chapel opened. She took a deep breath, closing her eyes for a moment, preparing herself for reliving the nightmarish hell that had been her life for the past twenty years.
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His eyes dart up to the crucifix, always looking for a black coat, for the hair to be longer. There should be cords and feathers, and the position was all wrong- no. No...this was right. He shook his head.
The candles were pleasant. He had always liked candlelight, even moreso after it meant his head would clear and the horrible things in his room would go away. He took in the sight, then walked towards Alessa. "Rukia's not here yet..." He had a tendency to state the obvious.
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She noticed his glance towards the crucifix, but did not comment on it. Whatever was between him and his God would remain so. She gestured to the empty space on the pew beside her. 'Care to sit down?' She asked, patting the uncomfortable seat next to her. 'We can wait for her together, if you want.'
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He stared at his surroundings, trying to think of something else to say. He hadn't just chatted with someone in a long time. "...how are you feeling?" There. That was good.
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'...I've been reading this.' She held up the old book of Shakespeare's Hamlet, the red cover worn slightly, the pages yellow and full of old age. 'I like it...it's full of sadness, but it's a beautiful kind of sadness, if there is such a thing. Do you read, Henry?' She asked him, curious.
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He tried reaching back in his memory to pull out what he had read the most recently. And no, the 21 Sacraments didn't count. After a lengthy pause, he adds, "I've read some Heinlein....uh, I don't know if you've heard of him."
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Pathetic.
Breaking through the chapel doors at an inhuman speed, Rukia’s lithe form immediately composed itself, fingers feathering themselves though silken tendrils of hair as her listless eyes searched her surroundings in their habitual manner, the forms of two people seated in a pew not to far away immediately catching her attention. Common sense would indicate that the pair of shadowed figures were the people she’d agreed to meet, and as tempted as she was to sit down without explanation, propriety demanded that she at least introduce herself.
Putting on the smallest hint of a smile, her tempestuous mood hidden by a more controlled demeanor, Rukia walked forth, hands resting comfortably at her sides as she came within mere inches of the man and woman, her voice smooth as she spoke, “You must be Alessa and Henry...Rukia. Sorry I’m late.”
[ooc: Sorry it took me so long to get here. XD I don't know how often I'll be on this weekend, so go ahead and post her story if you wish, and I'll play catch-up when I get back. ♥]
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She opened her mouth to say something when Rukia's entrance cut her off. She frowned slightly at the young girl's noisy entrance, then brushed it off. Rukia didn't know any better; the atmosphere of the chapel hadn't affected her in the same way it did Henry and herself, apparently. 'It's all right,' Alessa reassured her, gesturing to the other empty place beside her. 'Please, have a seat.'
Alessa waited until Rukia was situated, then sighed. 'You both know why you're here,' she said, her tone grave and serious. '...I must warn you: my tale is not one meant for the ears of the pure-hearted, but since you have insisted and Rosiel wishes it...' She shrugged. 'I suppose I just better get it over and done with. Please refrain from any comments until I am finished,' she added. 'If I am stopped, I might lose the heart to continue.'
She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, strengthening the walls she had put up around her memories. She wanted them to hear the words; she certainly did not want to put her own memories in their heads. It would be too much for them to bear.
'....I suppose I better start at the beginning,' Alessa began. 'I was born and raised in Silent Hill, a town in the mideastern United States. It had a modest population, and the main economy came from tourists that enjoyed staying at the hotel on the banks of Toluca Lake during the summer. Most of the townspeople were members of an old religion - others call it a cult - that had been around since before the Civil War. Our beliefs are many, but are not important to the story. The church was led by a woman named...Christabella,' Alessa hissed the woman's name out, hate dripping from her tongue like venom. 'She ruled the followers under an iron fist and they were blind due to her teachings.
'This was the town I was raised in. My mother loved me...dear Dahlia...she always loved me, always told me I was special, even when I didn't feel like I was. I never knew who my father was, and she never told me. She never told anyone for that matter. It was a secret she will take to her grave. I was born with powers...they were powerful, but not as powerful as they are now. I could read people's minds, kill things with a single thought, move things without touching them. My mother was frightened at first, but soon learned that I was more frightened than she was, and did her best to help me control these powers, especially as a young girl. She alone understood me, and tried to help me.
'Those at my school, Midwich elementary school, were different. The teachers paid no attention to me, and although I got good grades, they avoided me like the plague. Children never played with me; their mothers had forbidden them to. My mother was tolerated in our community; the fact that she would not tell anyone who my father was was frowned upon. At first, the children just gave me the cold shoulder, but then the name calling began. They called me a "witch", told me I needed to go back to hell from whence I came. They carved the words "witch" on my desk, made me trip in the halls, put dead things in my locker, steal my lunch or put bugs and snakes in my backpack. I would go home to my mother and cry in her arms, but no matter what she did, the hazing and bullying never stopped.' She placed the book down on the stone floor. This next part of the story was the hardest to tell, strangely enough. The memory of it still gave her nightmares.
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Up until this point, Alessa's voice had been calm, cool, collected, as if she had recited these words many times. But now, the hands that held the book gently in her hands tightened, her knuckles going white, and her eyes gleamed with a mixture of hatred and fear. She swallowed. This was always the hardest part of the story to tell.
'.....His name was Colin,' she said quietly, feeling the nausea starting to rise up in the pit of her stomach. She suddenly wanted to stop talking, but she knew she couldn't. 'He was a janitor at the elementary school. He lived alone, no wife, no children. The girls were all afraid of him ever since Helen came screaming into the classroom months ago, crying about how a monster had attacked her while she had gone to the bathroom. We were children, you must understand. She didn't feel that she could tell the adults what really happened, that Colin had touched her in the way little girls aren't EVER supposed to be touched. Rumors spread, and even outcasts like myself knew the truth eventually. The elders never found about it. I was not the only one who woke up in the dark, terrified of the janitor monster that was Colin that we were positive was hiding in our closets or under our beds. We all avoided him the best we could.
'But there I was. In a bathroom all alone with that bastard, tears still coursing down my face, and as he looked at me I just knew what he had in mind for me. I was terrified, I couldn't move, and he walked toward me and pulled me into the nearest bathroom stall.'
Alessa took a shuddering breath, closing her eyes tightly, trying to keep what she was sure were tears from erupting. "That's a good little girl, don't make a sound now, just do what Colin tells you, all right? I know where you live, and if you scream, if you tell ANYONE what I've done, I'll kill you and your mommy, you understand? Now just hold still, that's a good little girl, Colin loves you, yes, he loves you very much..." The bastards words echoed in her head, and she could feel bits of her power starting to seep into her hands; blackness mixed in with rust colored veins covered her hands slowly.
'....He molested me. I couldn't do anything. I was too scared. When he was finished, he left, leaving me there. I just sat there, staring at the tiled floor, wanting to believe that it was all a nightmare, that I would wake up. But I didn't wake up, it was no dream. Then the sobs came. I wailed and cried until I thought I had no water left in me. The teacher found me there, and sent for Christabella and my mother.'
Alessa paused. '....if this is disturbing the two of you, I shan't continue.'
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When she paused, Henry blinked a few times, clearing the expression on his face. He looked at both her and Rukia and said, "No...I'm okay. Please...uh, please keep going." He knew it was just going to get worse from here, but he wanted to let her get it out. He hoped Rukia was doing okay with it.
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' I remember the conversation like it was only hours ago. "We know. Even the children know that your daughter..." Christabella said to my mother, letting the sentence hang on the air in all of its ugliness. "Why won't you just name the father?" she demanded. My mother said nothing. She would never tell, never, never, not even her own daughter. "You have brought sin amongst us," Christabella continued, knowing she would get no answers. "The faithful must gather in judgement for we are called to purify this field."
'"What does she mean, mommy?" I asked, the tears still flowing. I did not understand Christabella's words; how could I? I was a child, and children committed no sins, did they not?
'"You are weak, my dear sister, you always were," Christabella told my mother, who remained silent as the grave. "Trust us, Dahlia. In faith and our virtue, we will restore innocence." My mother agreed. She believed in them, was more than willing to trust them, when it had been proved so many times that they were not our friends.'
Alessa sighed. It was the second hardest part of her story to tell now, but the most important part all the same. She wrung her hands together, her eyes glazed over in a far-off look.
'They had met many times since the town was built, the elders. Their religion went back decades. They met in the hotel that was in the town, in a secret room, behind a painting. I had never been there before, but my mother was with me, beside me. Through her I had a little bit of courage, but I was afraid all the same. So afraid...'
'
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'"You may leave now, Dahlia," Christabella told my mother crisply. "We fight the sin, not the sinner." Two men in the group grabbed my arms, and began dragging me towards the painting, which was removed to reveal a door. I screamed for my mother, but she could not do anything. They surrounded her, prevented her from stopping them. They dragged me into the room, but not before I could hear my mother say: "...What have I done...? Oh god..."'
Tears filled Alessa's eyes and she knew she could not stop them even if she wanted to. They fell down her cheeks silently, and yet her voice remained steady. 'I don't remember much after that. I know they must have torn my clothing off, and somehow managed to shackle me to a grill in the center of the room that was heated with hot coals, held up by iron chains. I was only twelve years old.
'Christabella's spoke of redemption, salvation...purification by fire. Her words meant nothing to me, but the pain...dear God, the pain...you have no idea what torture I went through in those moments, no idea! I screamed, screamed in agony, in so much pain I could not even pray to the gods I knew for it to stop! And yet, those people...the fathers and mothers of children sat there and did nothing! They watched an innocent child be burnt half to death and did nothing! They were so wrapped up in their own self-righteousness that they could not see the evil they were doing! They believed that by doing that to me that they were destroying evil!
'...But evil...evil comes in different forms. You must always be careful with how you fight evil. It is in the eye of the beholder, you see. Your weapons can turn on you. And I had just enough strength, just enough power to make that accursed chain break, swinging me across the room to crash against the grill holding the coals, knocking it over and starting the fire.
'They screamed. They ran. Some perished, but most did not, and when the flames died, I was one of the only ones that remained....alive. I thought I was going to die, and I welcomed death, but then...I saw my mother. She had brought policemen with her.
'...My mother is broken. She tried to get help but it was too late. The damage had been done. My mother's sobs echoed in the room; they were deafening. Not all of the people of Silent Hill were bad, though. Those good souls left the place for good after what had happened to me reached their ears. But this man...one of the policemen who had come with my mother, he did not hesitate to help me, even when he burnt his hands badly getting the shackles off of me, he helped me. He carried me out of the hotel himself, in his arms, as my mother was held back by his fellow officers.' She wiped her cheeks, sniffing slightly, slowly gaining control.
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'One day, my mother had left the room to go to the restroom. I was scared, and in so much pain for so long...and that pain had turned into hate. And that hate was starting to change my world as my powers were returning. The roses my mother had put on the table by the window...I made them wilt and die. Lisa...I do not know what she was thinking that day. She never looked at me, never. But that day...that day, curiosity killed the cat. She looked at me, and her look of shock and revulsion made me turn my hate - my hate that was so strong and burning inside me - on her. I did not see the affects of my hatred on her till later.
'Every night, I prayed to God and asked Her to heal me, to at least ease the pain or let me die so I could at last rest and be free from the agony. But that night...that night, I prayed to a god us children were never allowed to call upon: Xulchibara. He is the God of rebirth, the changer of worlds, the Executioner, the Tormentor, the Red God. He is extremely powerful and dangerous to deal with...at least, that's what the elders always told us. But I hated the elders, I hated all of them. I wanted to kill them all, one by one, and I knew...I knew He would help me.
'That night, Xulchibara came to me, in the form which you -' At this Alessa gestured to Henry, '- had seen me in when you first met me. I was surprised, when I saw Him. Lines under the eyes, messy hair, and incredibly blue eyes. The appearance of a child, but when He spoke, He spoke like a god. "YOU CALLED FOR ME, CHILD," He said, a hint of a smile in His voice. "THE FIRST CHILD TO DO SO. I HAVE NOT BEEN BLIND TO YOUR SUFFERING, ONLY NEEDED YOU TO ASK FOR MY HELP AND GUIDANCE, AND SO I AM HERE, DEAR, SWEET, LOVELY DAUGHTER....MY ALESSA."
'"IT IS THEIR TURN, DAUGHTER," He told me. "I PROMISE THAT THEY WILL ALL FALL INTO YOUR DARKEST DREAM! BE THE JURY TO MY JUDGE, AND LET THEM SCREAM WITH ALL OF THE AGONY AND PAIN THAT AWAITS THEM IN THE HELL YOU WILL CREATE FOR THEM!" He held His hand up to the protective screen that was around me. Trembling, I reached out, and although our hands had not touched skin on skin, He was a God, and that was enough. The deal was made, and I could feel power pouring into my veins. I could feel my powers returning in full strength. Darkness, and rusted veins grew on everything and changed Silent Hill into my nightmare.'
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'I left my mother alone. They all shunned her, because she was immune to the "darkness" they called it. "Demon" they called me, and she was my mother. I loved her...I loved her so much. I could not bear to harm her, and so my servants did not touch her. Even Pyramid Head left her alone.
'It was then that I realized that Xulchibara was up to something. I did not ask Him questions or doubt his motives, but a sly knowing smile crept onto His face as he would sit beside me. He would stroke my burnt cheek and say "SOON, DAUGHTER, SOON. IT WILL BE BEAUTIFUL, AND YOU WILL BE THE ARTIST OF THE TAPESTRY." Lisa did her duties, changing bandages, feeding me and making sure I did not starve or dehydrate. I saw what I had done to her. No pupils, tears of blood forever running down her cheeks. And yet she never complained. Her sobs were there, but...I do not think they were in fear, but in pity.
'One early morning, I realized someone new had come to Silent Hill. I could sense them, and with them was my other half, Sharon, she was called. I refused to let them leave, not yet. Xulchibara anticipated this, and set clues for them to follow. I sent my servants to see them, and tell me who they were, what they were doing. One of the women, Rose, even had a run in with...Colin.' She spat the name out as if it were a curse. 'I had not spared him. I had used my power to wrap the barbed wire around his ankles, head, neck, and eyes myself. Revenge was beautiful.
'Rose and her companion could enter the church. Xulchibara knew this, and began to manipulate them. Eventually, Rose found me, and I had Xulchibara tell my story. He merged with Rose, and once she was in the church and He was releaed, He would be able to take off whatever wards were on the church and allow me to enter and have my revenge.
'Christabella had found Rose's daughter, and wished to burn her. I would not allow it; I would not allow an innocent to go through the same torture I had! Never! When Christabella stabbed Rose, and Xulchibara - in the form of black blood - fell to the floor and began to spread'
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He reached out and put a hand over one of hers when she started talking about asking to die. He had done that himself, once. Walter had taken care of it.
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'...His power had invaded the church. Darkness descended upon them, and the floor in the center of the chapel crumbled, revealing the red tortured hell that I had created in my madness and pain. I used my power, and with it, I rose from the depths of the hospital to the chapel, barbed wire swirling around me. I was confined to a hospital bed, my scarred mauled body a horrid sight, but Xulchibara smiled at me, and it was an affectionate and pleased smile. He was happy for me. Rose stood bravely, her wound fully healed, and then my enemies began to scream, running for the doors that I kept shut with my power.
'I fixed my eyes on the woman who had condemned me to this damned existence and eternal hell. Christabella was there, standing there in horror, frozen in fear. Christabella, the bitch, was at last going to meet her end. Our eyes locked, and in that moment, I think she knew what was to happen to her. I used my power to snake the barbed wire forward, wrapping tightly around her wrists, raising her up in the air so she was on eyelevel with me. I sent the other barbed wires shooting out and they tore the other bastards - the mothers and fathers who had stood by and done nothing for me in my time of need - apart, their blood and flesh painting the church in the most beautiful color of red.
'Christabella was kicking and screaming as Rose ran to save Sharon. Xulchibara watched me patiently, pleased at the sight before Him. A man rushed to kill Rose, but she stabbed him; another man moved to kill her, but I lashed out, ripping him to peices. Sharon was watching all of this in shocked silence. I turned, and gave Rose a faint smile. She would save her baby. She would succeed in this story where mine had not. She cut Sharon from her binds and held her in her arms, telling her to close her eyes.
'Christabella's screams were the most beautiful sound I had ever heard, but I wanted to see her blood. "LET ME BATHE IN HER BLOOD, DAUGHTER," Xulchibara told me, His voice echoing in my head. "LET ME BATHE IN THE BLOOD OF THE WOMAN WHO HURT YOU." I obliged, sending wires to wrap around her ankles, pulling her legs apart and shoving even more wires under her dress and upwards, penetrating her....and then, in one glorious motion, she was torn apart! Her blood cleansed the chapel, her flesh flying, and Xulchibara danced in it gleefully.
'He left then, and approached Rose and Sharon as I finished them off. I left my mother alone. They were all dead, but she wandered down the aisle as if in a trance, whispering "Alessa...what have you become...?" And, at long last, it was all over. I descended back into my sanctuary, my strength spent, and Rose and Sharon left, but not really leaving. They could never truly leave Silent Hill, you see. Xulchibara is a part of the town, as am I. I have reason to believe he put a part of himself in Sharon....the three of us are connected.'
Her eyes had glazed over and her voice rose in ecstatic triumph as she finished. She remained silent then, not saying anything more, simply sitting there, letting the memories fade away back into her unconsciousness.
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Alessa turned to Rukia. '...I do not know what Rosiel intended you to get out of this, but you know my story all the same. If you see me as a monster, I do not blame you, for that may very well be all I am. A monster, nothing more.'
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"I understand..." he whispered back. "I'll help you as much as I can, m- uh...most people have good, too. But I know some people...some don't have anything good at all." He squeezed her hand back. "I'll help as much as I can."