The Figure

[William Hartsford]

Somewhere in the darkness a solitary light flickered to life, a low buzzing humming in the area as it burned up it's watts. It cast a hazy pillar of light upon a single figure who was already staring up at the lamp, the figure's weary hazel eyes following the eery swaying of the light, casting him into darkness and shadow to the beat of a silent pendulum. The man averted his gaze, instead directing it to the perpetual darkness before him, and all around him. Where the hell am I? He didn't remember ever making any trip to this place, last he knew he was being herded into a subway car in downtown Los Angeles, his body pressed against that of wannabe starlets and twitchy dopeheads. He remembered glancing up at a flickering light in the station as bodies slowly piled onto the car, inching closer at the speed of a slug when it went out.

But now he was somewhere else, or at least he assumed so.

He remembered as he had entered the subway station that he had seen it again, that peculiar circle of symbols and runes that had littered his missing brother's apartment, the same symbol that was haunting him all over Los Angeles, from Venice Beach to Skid Row. The man saw it, clear as day, but no one else did, which meant no one else saw it bleed, thick streams of crimson running down the gritty subway station's once white tiles. It was everywhere and it appeared ever more frequent, when it had appeared to him at a mall he had been in, something compelled him to head to the closest sporting goods store and load up on things that sounded like a good idea. He needed to be ready, the symbol called his brother and it started to call him, it would only be a matter of time before it was his turn to go.

His fingers quickly wrapped around the straps of his beige military grade rucksack, after the symbol in the mall, he took it everywhere with him. He was prepared, though for what he wasn't sure.

Tugging on the straps, William Hartsford took a deep and steady breath, waiting. There was no way he was moving from this light, he had a flashlight yes, and lots of batteries, but he wouldn't waste them here. His gut was telling him whatever was to happen would happen, he just had to be patient. And patient he was. There was no telling how long he stood under the light, the swiss army watch his father had given him for his twenty-fifth birthday seemed to be on a standstill. Time had stopped.

The light above him began to flicker once more, and like before, went out. He was cast in a heavy darkness, with an equally heavy silence, the only noise to be heard was his pulse beating in his temples and the steady breaths he forced himself to take. His ears picked up the sounds of dripping water, some far-off shuffling and a low rumble in the dark. The concrete beneath him began to vibrate, sending an odd tingling in his feet through the thick soles of his combat boots. As the rumbling grew louder and the vibrations turned to something along the lines of an earthquake from the San Andreas Faultline, Will was sure that a train was approaching. He nearly jumped out of his skin when he heard a horn blaring, echoing through what he assumed could be a tunnel. Metal grinding against metal as the metal beast skidded to a halt before him, sparks flaring from the wheels.

As it came to a dead stop, he heard the double doors hiss open as the beast groaned under it's own weight. The light above him flickered on again, as did several other lights, more figures appeared in the dirty haze, others like him, normal-looking people with the same weary look in their eyes. He saw them, but none of them looked his way. Had they been here all this time? Had they been called as well? They began to move towards the train, eyes set on the metal beast that would ferry them to hell. It reminded William of the crossing over the River Styx to the Underworld, if the ancient stories carried over to the modern day, this would be it's interpretation.

William moved forward, crossing the threshold between the subway platform and the train doors. The interior was dirty and disgusting and there was a taint of sewage choking up the air. His car was already filled with several passengers, women and men, even children. He took a position near one of the exits into another car, holding tight to one of the hanging hand rails. No one looked his way, he may as well be a ghost in their world as they were to him. The Englishman watched as the doors clattered shut, the train lurched forward at a near impossible speed and the cabin was filled with grimy, flickering light. His co-passengers were as silent as the grave and Will was having a hard time distinguishing if they were dead or alive, the prior seemed more likely, hell he himself could be dead.

The train sped on, and William wondered what Hades had in store for him, or if he was being plunged straight into Tartarus.

[Holden Payne]

He couldn't say how long he had been on the train. A few hours, a few days, did it really matter at this point? He hadn't moved since he climbed on, and to be honest it was getting quite uncomfortable. He head rested lazily back with his legs sprawled out slightly. Somehow, in this position, he managed to get the least bit of sleep, but the dreams provided little respite and only served to stir up the guilt he was already feeling. He had a dream of bright red hair, of freckles that littered her face and a mischievous smile.

He had a dream of finding all that and a pool of blood.

Holden was stirred from a dream that was more like a personal hell when the train screeched to a stop at the subway station. Straightening himself up again, he groaned. His neck was now killing him and his rear was going numb from sitting for far too long. And yet he didn't want to get off the train. Partially because he didn't even have an idea of where he was. ...Actually, where was he? As he retracted his legs so that the people climbing on could file past him, he looked around for some clues as to what stop they had pulled into. A scrolling marquee above the door stated that it was Hazel Street. That meant he was far from home.

He settled back down again once the door closed, sparing a glance at the passengers. Two women were having a hushed conversation amongst themselves, a man holding a young child in his lap, an elderly couple who looked just as tired and weary as he did and another man holding on to a knapsack who, quite frankly, looked a little out of place. Still, he didn't pay any of these people any mind and closed his eyes only for a moment until he remembered he didn't exactly want to sleep. He didn't want to dream of that girl again.

He had no destination in mind, and he head no idea when he would get off this train. Maybe soon, maybe not.

[William Hartsford]

The lights would continuously flicker out, casting the cabin in perpetual darkness that Will swore he could see shit moving around him. He felt like he was being circled, watched like a carcass from the air by vultures. And when he thought he felt hot, heavy, rancid breath on him, the lights would flicker on again, temporarily blinding him as the cabin was flooded with phosphorescent light. Two women near him began to talk, which was the most startling out of anything in this cabin. They talked of a place called 'Silent Hill', mentioning something about an amusement park the both of them used go to as children and how now, they were terrified to go back because of--They faded off William wasn't able to catch the end of their conversation but if he could fill in the blanks, he would hazard a guess that they were going to finish off with 'what they've done'. It just sounded fitting.

But people were talking, William could hear them and their conversations didn't sound as optimistic as most normal chit-chat goes. They were in his world, but separate. Damn he wished he knew what the fuck was going on.

William noticed someone he hadn't before, a young man sitting relatively close to him. He had caught him looking his way for a moment, so he was aware of him at least. Or he assumed so. If this guy was in the same situation, talking to him would probably prove useless, but it was worth a shot, "Hey, you." The light flickered off again, but only for a few seconds this time, when it came back on he continued, "Have any clue what's going on?" Probably not, but for once, talking to someone would be rather...calming.

[Holden Payne]

The man was close to nodding off once more, finding his surroundings quite... well, boring. He had no interest in listening to the affairs of others and everyone else sat in an awkward silence. Even he himself felt a little out of place as he shifted in his seat and tugged on the sleeves of the hooded jacket that he was wearing. Slowly he was drifting away from reality into his own thoughts until he was addressed by the man he had glanced at before.

His gaze shifted from the floor to William, taking a few seconds to decide whether or not he was the one the man was even talking to in the first place. He chanced a subtle glance, but no one was sitting next to him (which he was grateful for) nor was there anyone hanging onto the rail. Well, the guy had to be looking at him then. His social anxiety kicked in for a brief moment, as if he was afraid this guy was going to say something hurtful or insulting.

The question, however, threw Holden off-guard. What was happening? He looked around the car they were currently in before turning his attention back to him. "I... What do you mean?" He asked, his voice a little more meek and anxious than he meant to sound.

Damn social anxiety to hell.