主寂静岭AC汉尼拔,其实是杂食。死在各种欧美影视游戏圈大坑,埋在刺客坑魂归寂静岭,勉勉强强算个写手

【寂静岭4】Funeral(2111,中英双版。别问我为啥写了个英文版我闲的慌……)

葬礼

哦,这可真糟糕,Henry想。

糟糕的并不只是他不知道自己在哪儿,还要加上这个不知道是哪儿的地方明显是个公墓,那些陈旧石质的墓碑横七竖八的插满这片土地就像凌乱疯长的杂草。Henry并不感到害怕,他只是迷惑,迷惑自己为什么会在这儿以及为什么这个地方找不到出口。

“1,2,1.1,2……”

粗犷响亮的口号出现的突兀又理所应当。Henry停下脚步转过身,看到两排六个穿着老式军服的士兵抬着一口棺材向他的方向走来。他们的步伐由于整齐的口号而一致得惊人,上半身几乎保持着一种略显僵硬的挺直,让棺材连晃都不晃一下。这六个军人从Henry面前毫无停顿,目不斜视的走过,好像他根本不存在一样,但是Henry不可能无视这片死寂的墓园里出现的除了他自己之外的人类……尽管他们看上去有点儿奇怪。于是他一言不发的跟了上去,直觉告诉他开口询问不会给他带来任何有用的东西。

“1,2,1.1,2,1.1,2,停。”喊着号子的那个第一排的士兵发出一个洪亮的指令,于是这支奇怪的仪仗队停了下来,Henry在他们前方看到了一个掘开的墓穴。六个军人沉默而默契的把棺材从肩膀上放下来,分别站在墓穴两遍,紧紧抓住勒在棺材底部的绳子将这个巨大沉重的木盒平稳的安放在了坟墓里。这是个样式最普通的棺材,不但普通而且……粗糙,或者说显得十分廉价,你甚至不会忍心用它来安葬你的一个普通朋友。但是跟一般棺材不一样的是它上面没有十字架,取而代之的是一对暗红色的同心圆。

六双眼睛齐刷刷的望向了Henry,把他吓得后背一颤,他几乎觉得自己能听到他们转头时带起的整齐的风声。然后站的离他最近的那个士兵向他走了过来,Henry僵硬的立在原地不知道自己究竟该怎样反应才是对的,直到那个面容坚毅的男人往他手里塞了一个东西。

Henry低头张开手掌。那是一把刻刀。

几个意思?

Henry疑惑的盯着那把刻刀,木质的手柄出乎意料的沉。这时士兵抓住了他的手臂,礼貌但不容反抗的带着他来到了坟墓前面,按住他的肩膀让他往下蹲。Henry单膝跪在了地上,左手手掌撑着潮湿柔软的泥土,一个空白的墓碑正面对着他。

“铭刻。”发出指令的男人大声说。

“我不知道……”

“铭刻。”他不容反驳的重复,甚至不等Henry说完一个完整的句子。

“这太没道理了……”Henry小声咒骂,摇着头想要站起身,结果士兵有力的双手狠狠把他按了回去,并第三次重复那个命令。

“铭刻。”

Henry咬牙切齿又无可奈何的盯着那个空白的墓碑,伸出手在上面摸了摸,粗糙的石质表面摩擦着他的指腹。他知道自己必须完成什么,必须,他在这里有他的使命。而且……是的其实他知道自己该干什么,他并不是个不小心闯进来的一无所知的局外人,正相反他站在一切的中心,他站在那个同心圆里。

Henry举起刻刀。没有锤子一类的辅助工具他只能凭蛮力完成这件事,可能结果会不太好看但是管他呢。

1

被溅起的小碎块打在他脸上,Henry几乎没有感觉到,因为锁骨上热辣的疼痛吸引了他的全部注意力。那里的皮肤被撕开了,随着他在墓碑上留下的刻痕一个弯曲的痕迹也留在了他的身体上,红色的。Henry颤抖着呼出一口气,再一次把刻刀举了起来。

1

简单的形状意味着野蛮的过程。这个刻痕深的可怕,Henry感觉到温暖粘稠的血液弄湿了他胸前的衬衫。

1,2

锁骨上尖锐的疼痛缓慢的爬行着,Henry感觉自己就好像是在自己的身体上凿刻而不是墓碑上。那些伤口皮肉让人害怕的向外翻开,被涌出的血液弄得看不清形状。

1

11121。坟墓的主人没有名字,他的名字是一个秘密,众所周知的秘密,但依然是秘密。Henry抚摸着那串数字,身体向前倾倒,锁骨上的疼痛让他感到呼吸困难和难以控制的眩晕。

“嘿,快起来。”有人拍了拍他的肩膀。

Henry一把抓住了那只手,手的主人似乎吓了一跳,但还是扶住了他的手臂。Henry撑着他站起来,视线扫过脚边生机盎然的青草,延伸到远处的石板路和年迈的墓园看守人,蓝的不像话的天空,最后定在扶着自己的年轻男人身上。

“我知道这很难……”男人安慰性的捏了捏Henry的肩膀,并替他把领带塞进了黑色的西装里,“我是说……我们都很伤心,但这是我们最后陪伴她的机会了。你不该逃避这个。”

Henry茫然的跟着男人走向了聚集在一起的一大堆穿着黑色衣服的男男女女。他们不太整齐,但错综有序的围绕在还未填土的墓穴周围,一个满头银发的神父站在墓碑旁边用悲伤的语气读着手里的圣经。Henry小心的从外围往里挤,期间撞到了一位戴黑纱的女士正合十祈祷的手臂,他慌乱的低声道歉并马上得到了原谅。最后他终于来到了最前排,漆黑油亮的棺材安静的放置在坟墓里,上半部分还打开着,Henry看到了Eileen漂亮的脸。就像是睡着了,而不是即将被永远埋入地下告别这个跟她一样充满活力的世界。

“Eileen……”Henry垂下眼睛,像是叹息一样念着他女邻居的名字。他应该保护好她的不管Eileen自己愿不愿意帮助Sullivan,那是他的责任,但是他失败了,彻彻底底的……

“什么?”

“什么……?”Henry转头看到Eileen就站在他旁边,只有她一个人,穿着平时的粉色背心和短裤健康的可以去给保健食品做广告,跟打着石膏还瘸了一条腿的凄惨模样大相径庭。她挽着Henry的一只胳膊轻松的微笑着,另一只手拿着一支白色的玫瑰。

“你叫我干什么?”

“不,我……”Henry一时不知道自己该说什么,难道要他说“对不起其实你已经被齿轮绞成番茄沙司了”吗,“我只是很高兴你还活着。”

“是你救了我,Henry!”Eileen发出愉快的笑声,“你也救了你自己。那场噩梦结束了,没有一个人死,也没有任何一场葬礼。”

“噩梦结束了……”

“是的,结束了。我们可以回归正常的生活了,跟以前一样的。我只不过错过了一场朋友的Party,而你可以带着你的相机继续享受生命和阳光,拍你喜欢拍的东西,而且,我想我们可以来一次小小的……”

“不。”他生硬的打断了Eileen滔滔不绝的畅想,“我要回去。”

“Henry……”Eileen的笑容变的有些悲伤,“可怜的Henry……”

“我真的希望你还活着,Eileen,我无数次的希望自己救了你。但无论如何我会留在那儿的,我从来……至少之后,并没有打算救我自己。”

“他甚至值得你放弃整个世界吗?”

“比那还重要。”Henry笑了起来,“你不会知道的。”

“Rest in peace, Henry Townsend.”Eileen把右手的玫瑰给了Henry,她脸上那种慈爱的微笑一直没有消失过,“You are the last one, the 21th, The Receiver of Wisdom. And this is your funeral.”

19个人排成长长的队伍从墓穴旁边走过,他们依次把手里的白玫瑰扔进坟墓,然后就安静的围绕在墓穴周围,双手握在胸前低头祈祷。Henry沉默的看着打开上半部分的棺材里他自己的脸,锁骨上的那串数字像一个神秘的咒语。

“Henry?”Eileen轻柔的叫他的名字,柔软的手掌覆盖上他拿着玫瑰的那只手,暗示性的催促着。Henry闭上眼睛,伸出手臂松开了手,玫瑰落在棺材上的声音打出清晰的回响。

棺盖盖上的声音沉闷的撞进Henry的鼓膜。他平躺着,躺在绝对的黑暗里,奇妙的第六感延伸出去感受着一点点填满墓穴的泥土。

他被埋葬了。

Henry没有动没有思考甚至没有呼吸。他只是呆在那儿,呆在属于自己的坟墓里就像其他所有已经不属于那个世界的死者一样,等待某个突如其来的变化,或许是对永恒瞬间的领悟或许是彻彻底底的安眠……但无论如何这个过程漫长到让人几乎遗忘时间是会流动的,会奔跑的,会前行的……在这里时间是看得见的固体,凝固填充在每一寸你能意识到的最微小的空间。

沉积的泥土松动了。延伸出去的意识的触手敏锐的察觉到了这个狭小的世界之外的变化,Henry昏睡的感知急切的一点点把自己唤醒。肺叶张开,关节弯曲,瞳孔收缩。Henry用让人难以置信的速度准备好了接纳任何正在试着入侵他宁静的等待的东西。

溢进来的光线并不是十分刺眼,即使对于他已经几乎遗忘了如何眨动的眼睛,但有另一样东西刺痛了他,那是一团倾泻的金色,漂亮的像一段金色的丝绸。Henry有些痛苦的眯着眼向上举起僵硬的手臂,他伸出的手马上被另一只宽阔有力的——男人的手,抓住了,然后他的上半身被拉了起来,跟另一具身体紧贴在一起,腐朽的脊椎发出不堪重负的闷响。他干裂的嘴唇迎来了一个吻,就像在庆祝和迎接他终于,终于走入了死亡。

Henry睁开眼睛,302的天花板呆愣愣的回望着它,这并不是一个比喻,Henry对着那个探出一个小脑袋的Wallman叹了一口气。这个微小的动作弄醒了枕在他肩膀上的Walter,金色头发的杀人犯迷迷糊糊的眨眨眼睛,伸了一个懒腰,从被子里露出来的赤裸柔韧的腰腹像文艺复兴时期比例完美的雕塑。

“Walter,我们可以去除了公寓以外的现实世界吗?”

“可以,否则你以为我是怎么把我的尸体带回来的,让狗叼回来吗……”Walter一只手臂撑着自己金色的脑袋,颈窝附近的吻痕让Henry想起昨晚这个男人淫荡的表情和下流的话语,“怎么了?”

“我觉得有些可惜,当初我应该去我的葬礼上看看。我打赌这世界上没几个人有机会参观自己是怎么下葬的。”

Walter绿色的眼睛调侃似的眯着:“我真没想到你会有这种趣味,Mr. Townsend.”

“另外还有……”Henry也侧过身子,但他没办法支着头因为他的手臂还搂着Walter赤裸的肩膀,于是他只能靠在床头上(该死这有点硌得慌),“Walter,我想把你的尸体跟我的葬在一起。”

“Wha……”Walter惊讶的睁大了眼睛。这个主意听起来那么不适合他们那么……浪漫又有人情味儿。

“想想看。”Henry拉过Walter的手,细细的在他手背和指节上亲吻着,“你和我,在同一个棺材里,相互拥抱着永远沉睡在宁静的黑暗里,就像我们永远徘徊在这场永无止境的梦里。我们掘开坟墓的泥土,在紧闭的棺盖上留下两只再也不会有人看到的白玫瑰,它们会腐烂成细小的沙尘……”

“容我提醒你,Henry,”Walter嗤嗤的笑起来,“你都死了十年了,挖开你的坟绝对没有你说的这么文艺。”

“也容我提醒你,你的尸体都挂了二十年了,我恐怕把它运到公墓的时候我们得把它一块一块重新拼起来。”

Walter安静下来,直直的盯着Henry棕色的眼睛,最后他开口说:“我喜欢这个主意,虽然你现在可能只是一堆骨头。”他把身体向前倾,在Henry的嘴唇上留下一个吻,“死亡十周年快乐,Henry。”

“同居十周年快乐,Walter。”Henry轻松的回答。回想起那个梦他觉得,自己一丁点都不后悔选择了死亡。

 

后续

“Eileen,我和Walter打算去公墓看看自己的尸体啥样了你要不要去。”

“……变态。”

——————————————————————————————

Funeral

Oh, it's really bad, Henry thought.

It's bad not only because he doesn't know where he is, but also because this place where he doesn't know where it is is obviously a cemetery, those tombstones stand orderless like messy grass. Henry doesn't feel scared, he's just confused, confused about why he is here and why there is no exit.

“1,2,1.1,2......”

Rough, and unexpected slogans appeared as it should. Henry stopped and turned back, he saw two rows of six soldiers wearing old-fashioned uniforms carrying a coffin coming in his direction. Their pace are consistent surprisingly because of the slogans, and their upper bodies maintained a slightly stiff straight, that the coffin on their shoulder doesn't even shake a little. These soldiers passed by in front of Henry without a hesitation or glance as he doesn't exist, but Henry cannot ignore other human beings - except himself - in this dead silence cemetery...even if they seem a little odd. So he follow up without a word, intuition told him asking will not bring anything useful.

“1,2,1.1,2,1.1,2,STOP.” That soldier in the first platoon which shout the slogans give out a loud order, then the strange honor guard stopped, Henry saw a dug grave in front of them. Six soldiers put down the coffin from their shoulders silently and tacitly, they stand on the tow side of the grave, hold the ropes which attach with the coffin firmly and put this huge wooden box down into the grave. It's a very normal coffin, normal and...crude, cheap or you would say, you will not even bear to use it to bury your normal friend. But in different of other coffins, it doesn't have crucifix on it, instead there is a pair of dark red concentric circles.

All of the six people immediately look straight into him, scared him with a shake within the spine, he felt he can almost hear the wind when they turned their heads in the same second. Then the soldier which stand most close to him walked over, Henry stand stiffly in there do not know exactly how to react, until the man with a resolute face put a thing into his hand.

Henry look down and open his palm. It's a chisel.

What does this mean?

Henry staring at the chisel confused, the wooden handle is heavier then he expected. At this time the soldier grab his arm, politely but irresistibly lead him to the front of the grave, hold him on the shoulder to let him go squat. Henry kneel down on one knee, left hand propped soft damp soil, a blank gravestone was facing him.

“Inscribe.” The man, who give out the order, speak loudly.

“I don't kno......”

“Inscribe.” He repeat irresistibly, didn't even let him finish a complete sentence.

“It doesn't make sense......” Henry cursed whispered, shook his head and wanted to stand up, but the powerful hands of the soldier fiercely pressed him back and repeated that order third time.

“Inscribe.”

Henry staring at that blank gravestone angrily and helplessly, he held out his hand and touched it, rough stone surface friction with his fingertips. He knows that he must finish something, he must, he has his mission here. And......yes in fact he knows what should he do, he is not an ignorant outsider who broke in accidentally, on the contrary he is in the center of everything, he stands in those concentric circles.

Henry raise the chisel. Without the auxiliary tools like hammer he can only get this done by brute force, possibly the result will not look good but who cares.

1

Small pieces of stone hit on his face, Henry almost didn't feel it as the hot pain on his clavicle attracted all his attention. The skin of there was slitted, as he carve on the hard tombstone curved traces also left on his body, red. Henry exhale breath trembling, and once again he hold up the chisel.

1

Simple shape means barbaric procedure. This notch is terrible deep, Henry feels the warm sticky blood wet his shirt on the chest.

1,2

The sharp pain crawling on his clavicle slowly. Henry feels as if he is carving on his body rather than on the tombstone. Those flesh around the wound evert outside, covered by the outflowing blood.

1

11121. The owner of the grave doesn't have name, his name is a secret, a well known secret, but still a secret. Henry slightly caresses those numbers, his body incline forward, the pain on his clavicle makes him feel difficult to breath and uncontrollable dizziness.

“Hey, stand up.” Somebody tapped him on the shoulder.

Henry grabbed that hand immediately, the owner of that hand seemed shocked, but still hold on to his arm. Henry stand up with the help of that guy, eyes swept from the vitality grass beside his foot, stone road stretching into the distance and the elderly cemetery caretaker, outrageous blue sky, and finally set at the young man holding on his body.

“I know it's difficult......” The man soothing squeezed Henry's shoulder, and put the tie into his black suit for him, “I mean......We are all very sad, but this is our last chance to accompany her and you shouldn't hide from this.”

Henry dazed follows the man toward to a group of men and women that gathering together, dressing in black. They are not very neat, but orderly around a unburied grave, a silver-haired priest standing next to a tombstone is reading the Bible in his hand with a sad tone. Henry carefully squeeze inside from the outside, during this he hit the arm of an old lady wearing black armbands who is praying with folded arms, he whispered apologized panicky and immediately got her forgiveness. Finally he came to the front, shiny black coffin quiet place in the grave with the upper part left open, Henry saw Eileen’s pretty face. She looks like asleep, instead of about to be buried and farewell forever to this vibrant world just like she is.

“Eileen......” Henry lowered his eyes, like a sigh as he remembered the name of the female neighbor. He should protect her regardless whether did Eileen herself want to help Sullivan, it was his responsibility, but he failed, thoroughly......

“What?”

“What......?” Henry turned his head and saw Eileen is standing next to him, just her, wearing her pink vest and shorts, healthy enough to go to the health food advertising, so much different from the miserable look when she with the plaster and a lame leg. She is holding an arm of Henry and smiling easily, with a white rose on her other hand.

“Why did you call me?”

“No, I......” Henry hesitated for a second, didn't know what to say, do you want him to tell her “I'm sorry you have been twisted into tomato sauce by those gears”, “I'm just glad that you are still alive.”

“You saved me, Henry!” Eileen gives off happy laughter, “and you saved yourself. The nightmare is over, no one died, and there is no funeral.”

“The nightmare is over......”

“Yes, it's over. We can go back to the normal life, just like the past. The only thing I missed is a party of my friend, and you Henry, you can continue to enjoy the life and sunshine, with your camera, take pictures for the things you love. Besides, I think we can have a little......”

“No.” He interrupts Eileen's gushing imagination bluntly, “I'm going back.”

“Henry......” Eileen's smile becomes a little sad, “Poor Henry......”

“I really wish you're still alive, Eileen, so many times I hope I have saved you. But anyway I will stay there, I never......at least after, didn't intent to save myself.”

“Is he even worthwhile to give up the whole world for you?”

“Even more important.” Henry laughed, “you will never understand.”

“Rest in peace, Henry Townsend.” Eileen gives the rose to Henry, the loving smile on her face has never disappeared, “You are the last one, the 21th, The Receiver of Wisdom. And this is your funeral.”

19 people lined up in long lines passed by the tomb, they throw the white roses in their hands into the grave, and then stand quiet around, praying with the hands on the chests. Henry silently looks at the face of himself in the upper half opened coffin, the numbers on his clavicle like a mysterious spell.

“Henry?” Eileen called his name slightly, soft palm covers on his hand which is holding the rose, suggestive urges. Henry closes his eyes, stretches his arm and releases the hand, the sound of the rose landed on the coffin echos clearly.

He can hear the lid hit on the wooden coffin, the sound heavily crashed into his eardrum.  He lying flat, lying in absolute darkness, unspeakable sixth sense extends out, feeling the dirt fill his grave little by little.

He was buried.

Henry didn't move or think or even breathe. He just stayed there, stayed in his own grave just like all the other deads who has not belong to that world, waiting for an unexpected change, maybe the sudden insight for the eternal maybe a thoroughly sleep......but anyway this process in long enough to make you almost forget that time will be flowing, will be running, will be here before the line......in here time is visible solids, curdles and fills in every inch of the tiny space that you can be aware of .

Sedimentary soil loosed. Out extended tentacles of awareness keenly noticed the change outside this small world, Henry's sleeping perceptions eagerly waked themselves up little by tittle. Lobes opened, joints bended, pupils shrunk. He got ready to accept anything that is trying to invade his peace with incredible speed.

The incoming light is not very harsh, even for his eyes which have almost forgotten how to blink, but there is another thing that hurts them, it's a group pouring of gold, like some beautiful golden silk. Squinting Henry raised his stiff arm - it's somehow painful - and his hand is immediately gripped by another broad and powerful hand, a man's hand, then his upper body is pulled up and tightly leans on another, decadent spine gives off overwhelmed moan. His chapped lips ushered in a kiss, as if is celebrating that he is finally, finally into the death.

Henry opened his eyes, the ceiling of the room 302 is looking back on him blankly, it’s not a metaphor, Henry singed to that Wallman which just stuck a little head there. This tiny movement waked up Walter that sleeping on his shoulder, the golden-haired murderer winked drowsily, stretched, the naked waist exposed from the quilt as the marvelous sculpture of the Renaissance.

“Walter, can we go to the real world beside the apartment?”

“Of course, otherwise how did I brought my corpse back, you think, let those dogs hold it in mouth?” Walter props his golden head on an arm, hickey around his neck remind Henry of those sensuality expressions and obscene words of this man, “Why.”

“I feel a little shame, I should have gone to my funeral. I bet few people on this world have the opportunity to watch how they are buried.”

Walter squints his green eyes like it sounds very funny:“I really didn't know that you have this kind of interest, Mr.Townsend.”

“And......”Henry also lays sideways, but he can't support his head because his arm is still around Walter's naked shoulders, so he can just leans it on the bedside (Damn it's a little hurt), ”Walter, I want to bury your corpse together with mine.”

“Wha......” Walter's eyes widened in surprise. This idea sounds so not for them so......romantic and humane.

“Think about it.” Henry pulled over Walter's hand, kisses on its back and knuckles carefully, “you and me, in the same coffin, hugging each other sleeping forever in the quiet darkness, just like we will forever linger in this never-ending dream. We dug out the soil of the grave, leave two white roses that will never be seen on the lid of our coffin, they will decay into tiny dust......”

“Let me remind you, Henry,” Walter laughed, “you have dead for ten years, digging your grave will absolutely not be as theatrical as you said.”

“And let me remind you, that your corpse are hung for twenty years, I’m afraid we must put it together piece by piece when we transform it to the cemetery.”

Walter quiet down, he staring straight into Henry's brown eyes, and finally he began to say:“I like this idea, even thought you may now just a pile of bones.” He leaned forward, leaves a kiss on Henry's lips, “Happy 10th death anniversary, Henry.”

“Happy 10th cohabitation anniversary, Walter.” Henry answered pleasurably. Recalled that dream he felt, he doesn't regret for choosing death at all.

 

Follow-up

      “Eileen, Walter and I are going to the cemetery to see how our corpses like now, do you want to come?”

      “......Freaks.” 

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