#hatt1tude

@hatt1tude

Silent Hill 2 Sentence Starters

Death was something Nam-Gyu thought about the most. He wanted it, and yet he was afraid about the unknown. Death itself didn't scare him, it was what came after - if anything. What if reincarnation exists? He doesn't want to go through the torture of living again. What if quantum immortality exists? That'd lead to him living in constant pain. What if it's just darkness? It'd be so depressing to have his consciousness still be active, with no sight. Death is inevitable, something he'll accept - but he simply cannot shake the horror of what comes next off.

Drugs always took the edge off. It was a sure fire way to make himself feel better, to make him think less about that and more about...Nothing, really. With the added bonus of feeling good, nothing can compete. It's a blissful existence made possible only with substances that could land him years in jail. He'd rather be sneaky than be in a constant state of feeling like shit. Even if it's something he doesn't even know so much about.

Those pills were something he developed a taste for - they tasted like any other pill. Chalky and with a gross after taste, but he's absolutely hooked. He missed the one for you, one for me ritual - it was instantaneous. And so he would double himself up. But straight away he didn't feel good. The wait to go back to the washroom felt longer than he wanted - he felt dizzy, his breathing weak yet he kept to himself. He had thought everything like this was the same - that it's just like a fade to black. But he felt pain - he felt suffocated and most of all he felt like his ribs were being pulled apart.

And when he could go back to the washroom, he was stumbling. He disregarded the stalls, hunching over and vomiting directly into one of the sinks. He didn't think to hold his own hair back from the splashback, the only thought in his head is to get it all out so there's no way he could suffocate on his own vomit. That'd be an embarrassing way to die. Nam-Gyu didn't even realize there were tears falling until he hunched down onto the floor. He felt weak, felt cold - his skin was clammy and his lips and nails were blue. It all hurts so much - why must he be the one to get such a painful experience and not the luxury of his vision fading to black?

If you had told him he'd be dying alone on a dirty washroom floor, he would agree that yes - that's probably how he'd go.

Game 5: Glass Bridge had concluded. From 16 players, only 3 remained. Almost 4. Even with the disadvantage of the VIPs' meddling, and the Front Man in serving their entertainment, extinguishing the game's master lighting... Player 017 was so close. Only a 50% chance to make it, had the poor glassworker not plummeted to his death when Player 218 shoved him into the final glass. For stalling, for being sure. At least die with dignity his guess was an educated one.

Racehorses...

Stationed at the replica glass bridge station. 016 was momentarily lost in thought. Even if they couldn't hear the contestants from the VIP room, the sounds of their screams hummed in Ji-wan's ears. Her hand stilled, moving the victorious players to the end, but wavering over the unfortunate game piece on the replica floor that represented player 017 ... number 13.

Like phantom pain, she could feel again the searing burn of her own fall, the moment her Icarus wings engulfed in flames by the sun and scalded her arms and back. Perhaps that's why there was something hauntingly familiar about this game.

She tensed, realizing the gilded masked VIP that had like a beast of prey snuck up approached her only when he spoke... He spoke to her, not Front Man? But the threat of a predator faced with a bigger one only showed when her gloved hand - hidden behind her back - clenched to a tight fist.

"Such is the game of survival." a slip of reflection on his words in her response, before the mask of her rehearsed script returned, where she spoke in respectful English, "We hope that you are enjoying your time here. Please let us know if there is anything that you need."

ㅤㅤ𝓐s the Frontman, the host, the game master, In-ho wanted to make sure that his VIP's were enjoying their stay at his facility. They had rooms, services, food and nearly anything one could ask for at a touch of a button or verbal command. In-ho's steps came to a halt as he stood a few feet away form the golden-masked man before him. A second passed before he spoke. ❝—I've been informed that you have a few questions regarding the games.❞

@hatt1tude gets a plotted starter 💕

WHY.

Why.

The situation was entirely unprecedented. Tall walls of stone enveloped them, every passage dark, lit only by dim torches. At first, Jekyll had thought he’d been dreaming, or perhaps this was one of those mental games his other half was playing with him. But the FEELING of the stone beneath his fingertips, the sweat beneath his brow… it was too real.

And the man beside him? The thief, the enabler, the KILLER? He was real, too. How fitting of the universe to trap them in a fucking labyrinth together.

"You think so?"

"Is that the case?" His tone is calm, his expression detached, but there is something violent in his eyes.