(okay, so, this good SH2 au (VERY GOOD) thatâs now in the fandom - though I get a big kick of the fact that Jackâs Maria there reminded me I have my own, though much more general, sh!au. Iâm not on my desktop this week so no resources I usually use while writing but hey! badass Moira. Whatâs there, itâs under #sh!au)
She sits with the children on the couch downstairs; the tv is playing static â not exactly white noise â the intermittent screeching rises and subsides as the white fog curls in the lamplight outside of the window with the dreamlike quality of slowly poured milk diffusing in a bowl of water.
Fingers of her left hand tap lazily a familiar rhythm on the handle of the baseball bat, her right palm rests on the SB shotgun lying in her lap. Yes, Moira thinks to herself when a key frantically jingles in the lock of the front door, she has everything under her control.
"Behind me,â she gives the order, and Sombra tugs Jesse towards the back side of the couch.
Moira brings the shotgun up, to aim at the center of the door, and waits for the intruder to reveal themselves.
"So nice of you to join us,â she smirks, seeing Gabrielâs panicked expression, and then nods at the kids. Sombra runs up to him and he instinctively hugs her. Jesse is slower to follow her example.
"What are you doing here? What the fuck isâŠ?â
"I told you, Sheriff Reyes, anyone but the kids,â Moira stands up, the shotgun leans against her thigh, "and yet, what Silent Hill wants, Silent Hill gets.â
"Dad,â Sombra looks up at him, "the fog sirens, and the shapes, and then I couldnât call you anymore. Itâs happening again. And auntie came, just likeâŠâ
"No, that was aâŠâ Gabriel starts, but Moira interrupts him.
"That was never a hallucination, and you know that very well, we are far past the point of being able to pretend so we donât go mad. We must go, now,â she slips past him and stops a few steps past the threshold. Slowly, so agonizingly slowly, she looks back. "You left Morrison in the car, didnât you?â A rhetorical question. "We will have to walk then.â
The windshield is broken â shards of tempered glass spilled on the hood of the car; the passenger side door open and hanging crookedly. The inside is soaked in splattered dark liquid, the steering wheel ripped off and swinging off the column by the cables.
Gabriel warily advances towards the car. On the seat inside lies Morrison's phone. The screen lits up displaying a picture of Morrisonâs daughter.
ââŠhelp usâŠâ The message garbled with interference repeats several times until the connection is dropped.
âSerpents and Reeds,â Moira rolls her shoulders.