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One day, in the very early morning hours, a strange, bluish fog rolls in. It floats low to the ground and is incredibly dense and incredibly cold. Anyone who inhales even a single breath from this fog will be met with a sudden, harsh sensation of sadness. It’s the worst part of the holidays—the Holiday Blues. The fog slowly spreads through the town and is gone by mid afternoon, but the sensation of sadness, loneliness, and nostalgia may linger for longer than that. Scientists are explaining the bluish tint as just being a natural phenomenon, but in Destiny City, ‘natural’ isn’t really something anyone should expect. Today would have been a good day to stay inside.
It was so strange, having this feeling return after all this time..
It was a horrible, aching feeling, sitting there, watching the fog roll in and out of the empty street. It wasn't so strange to see the fog rolling like that. With the sky so dark and the air so moist at around five in the morning, fog seemed to be an old friend. Originally, it frightened him, making his breath catch in his chest every time Shiloh found himself having to face it. Silent Hill went through his mind most of the time, but that was a world of the lost, and back then, he felt as if he simply belonged there.
These days, the fog had a different feeling. The same way a cracked door had promise of light on the other side, so too did the dense fog he encountered in the morning. It glowed faintly with the orange-tinted streetlights, giving off an almost warm aura despite the air actually being below freezing. When he opened the doors as he left work and stepped into that foggy world, he almost smiled with the knowledge that in just a short bus ride, he'd be back home with the person he loved more than anyone else in the world and safe once again. Completely safe...
Tonight, the fog lacked that normal glow, instead it almost shimmered blue. Never before had he seen something so dense that it looked as if icicles were dangling from it. At first the world seemed to pause, an ethereal air danced about it as Shiloh gazed to it from the inside of the building. Then he stepped out.
Gods knew he truly wish he didn't.
Terror and despair gripped his chest, and felt himself nearly falling to his knees as the sensation began to overwhelm him.
He could feel those hands on his neck again, strangling him, pinning him to the bed that he once thought as soft and cozy, hard and taut against his back. Everything about that scene began to come back to him, to the weight of the other student's hips against his own, to the biting, stinging feeling of blood warming and trailing down his neck.
There were no sounds that left his lips during that time as tears threatened to stain the sheets below him. Tighter, tighter those hands squeezed at his throat that night, and the soft words whispered to him over and over again filled his mind as it had done not too long ago.
Fourteen seconds to pass out... Three minutes to die... Don't worry, little Shiloh, I won't let you die, this is far too fun...
Even now he could feel those fingers digging into his throat, hurting him, choking him, ignoring any whimpered plea or pained tears that happened to spill out under that boy's weight.
It had all been a game to the boy, a horrible, painful game that he got off on. One would think they could at least trust their roommate, but it was Hillsworth, and they all happened to be in the school for a reason. The violent streak his roommate had was his. There was just something about Shiloh he couldn't let go... Time and time again Shiloh tried to escape. One night he'd sleep in the library, another he'd spend the night curled up under a desk in an empty classroom. As incredibly uncomfortable he was, there was safety in these public spaces, and they were places where that boy and his cruel laughter couldn't reach him.
Yet there were nights where he was found, carried back to his room in that boy's arms. As loving and tender as it appeared to others who didn't know the boy, Shiloh knew better... He know those arms would strip him bare the moment the door of their room locked, and those hands, those wicked hands, would wrap around his throat once more.
A little longer this time, Shiloh... I'm sure you can hold on just a little while longer. You wouldn't want to let me down, would you?
Letting the boy down meant more pain. Arms and legs bound to the bed, the tiniest of cuts made to his belly to show just how bad it was to disappoint his roommate. Not once did Shiloh complain. Of course he thought it, his mind screaming and pleading to tell someone, anyone of the abuse he faced at the hands of that boy! Over and over he lied in bed, curled up and sobbing silently after a session with him that left him feeling dirty and sick to his stomach. Who would believe him if he said a thing? What would his father have thought if he knew he was punished by this boy day in and day out?
No one was there to listen. No one was there to take him and lead him out of this spiral of self hatred that came with allowing this abuse to keep happening.
Just as quickly as those memories began to overtake him, Shiloh gasped as he was forced back into the Destiny City he knew now. The one where his Alexei was at. The one where he was safe from those creeping hands. And yet the sadness didn't leave him. It only served to leave him much more exhausted than before. Without realizing it, he had fallen to his knees, sobbing and trembling from just how damaging that brief moment of reliving that memory was...
That was alright... This time, everything would be alright, even if that feeling never left his chest the rest of the way home. Though it was difficult to let his past come back to haunt him after all these years, at least now he had found some sort of courage to not hide himself away at the slightest sign of pain.
Maybe those wounds that the boy had left on his mind would never mend. He'd always think back to those times and feel a little more broken, but now he had something stronger than just his own meager words to get him through the flashbacks. There were people out there who cared for him, other knights and individuals who would bend over backwards to make sure he never hurt like that again, even if they had no idea of the trauma he had gone through before. Relying on them made him strong, and he'd continue to do so until they pushed him away...
Until then... This was alright. And he was alright... And soon, he'd be home.
(WC: 1096)
