Chapter Text
Cheryl left Silent Hill with one goal: to live. She needed to live for her parents, who died to keep her safe. She needed to live for Alessa, who tragically never got to live. And she needed to live for herself, finally, after so long running.
She was going to try and be happy, to grow old and forget the pain of her past. Douglas had helped her immensely with some connections he had down in Roseville, Florida, both agreeing that getting far away from Silent Hill would be for the best. He got her proper identification, a little studio apartment above his friend's bar, a job at said bar cleaning, and a chunk of cash to help start her new life.
He checked in with her often to make sure she was okay, after settling her in they found out there had been a string of murders which made him panic. Douglas told her how he felt responsible for everything and had to make sure she was taken care of out of respect for her father.
Not that some human killing people could ever scare her, no… not after the monsters. She always was armed, a small gun always in her bag and her father’s old taser chained to the straps. If she didn’t have her bag, her knife was always in her pocket. Cheryl could never fully trust the world around her wouldn’t disappear into hell again, despite being nowhere near that cult or town.
Every now and then, the world would shift, and everything just felt wrong, and she saw things Douglas didn’t that they had hoped was just PTSD. Other times, though, she’d swear she was in the Otherworld, the telltale scrape of metal letting her know she wasn’t alone there, so of course, it just made her more alert.
She got handed a fresh start and didn’t give a damn about some creep peeping at night to get his murder rocks off. Defending this new life meant everything to her, nothing could ever possibly scare her away. Not some third-rate killer and certainly not her own brain.
Douglas’s friend, Walter, was the one that owned the sports bar called Walley’s, with his wife Maggie who ran the bar. The moment Douglas mentioned paying to have her rent out the apartment above, Maggie jumped on it, gushing about how she needed more help around the bar, and how she can help make sure Cheryl was taken care of.
For the most part, they were nice. Walter had a bit of a staring problem but was always polite, while his wife practically treated her like a daughter. It was nice, but hurt at the time, reminding Cheryl of a life she could never have with her own parents.
There were a few days before Maggie was going to have her start working, so she settled in in her new apartment and tried to get used to a calm, quiet life.
It wasn’t much, but it was finally hers.
***
Danny usually didn’t pay too much attention to new faces at Walley’s, his work needed to hit the community, not just their tourists. His murders always were personal, and someone in town for a few days just didn’t cut it.
He noticed the first day the little blonde started working though, watching from his corner table as the head bartender showed the girl around and got her to work.
She looked young, too young to be working at a bar, but there was something in her eyes that caught his attention. It was like she had lived too long and seen too much shit and it intrigued him. It made him wonder what her story was. It made him want to end it.
She didn't seem phased when a creep tried to hit on her or when someone else tried to grab her, having full confidence to slap their hands away and curse them out before sauntering away, not even caring about getting help. It made him wonder how she would fight- because she would- and if she’d beg when she realized she was going to die or fight till the very end. It was a tantalizing thought.
Danny knew she had potential to be his star mark. It’s been a while since he found anyone who might really fight him, and young women always got the media riled up the more violently he displayed them.
He downed his glass and stood up, needing to be at the bar to watch her better.
“Hiya, Jed!” Maggie exclaimed, grabbing a glass for him already. “Second glass already?”
“It’s what the day calls for,” he smirked at her, tossing money on the counter.
She dryly laughed at him. “Oh, I can only imagine. I hate how they have you stuck writing all those damn murder pieces, that’s gotta take a toll.”
Danny hid a smile as he took the glass she slid to him. “It pays well, what more can I ask for?”
“Something nice to write about for once?” She shuddered. “Speaking of; Cheryl, you let someone know when you’re taking the trash out. I don’t have enough employed for a ‘buddy system’ but I will at least know when you step out these doors. Most folk are nice, but you never know.”
“It's just trash, Mags.” Danny watched silently as the little blonde walked over, not quite paying attention to him. Cheryl. “But don’t worry, I will.”
“You better.” Maggie grabbed a few glasses off the bar and tossed them in a plastic tub.
“Be serious though, it's just some guy with a knife. How scary can he really be? There’s plenty of real monsters out there compared to some mental case.” Cheryl scoffed and Danny almost saw red. He didn’t even hear what Maggie replied with
Cheryl. She thought she was though shit? This bitch was going to see how fucking scary he would be. No other name on his list mattered now. This cunt wanted to challenge him so openly? She was going to die like a fucking dog. She would see her worst nightmare in him.
When Maggie turned back in his direction he had his emotions back in check. “Who is that girl?” Danny asked curiously.
She narrowed her eyes at him. “She’s too young for you, Mr. Olsen.”
“She can’t be that young if she’s working here. But it's not like that.” Danny waved her concerns away, not admitting the little blonde was indeed appealing. “She’s going to get herself killed being that cocky about the killer.”
Maggie tsked him and started talking in quieter tones. “Dougie brought her here a week ago to give her a fresh start. Something real bad happened and her whole family is dead. I didn’t ask, of course, but she ain’t like the other girls I have working here. I think she can toughen ‘em up, but she’s not really scared of much, so I do worry.” she winked at Jed as a goodbye, moving to get someone else's order at the bar.
Jed loved how Maggie was a sucker for gossip. She unknowingly gave him info on just about all his victims, oblivious of how fatal her loose lips were. He gave her good tips, smiled and occasionally flirted with her and she was more than happy to have him sit all night, chitter chatting away.
This Cheryl had no one, and just moved; she would be child's-play to kill, he just needed to tail her to find her home. But with her little fucking attitude, she needed to be taught a lesson before she died, that “some guy with a knife” was worse than any monster she could dream up.
She was going to beg him for death, and when he finally gives it, she’ll have wished she hadn’t.
***
It had been about a month Cheryl figured since she started living in Roseville and, despite everyone being panicked about this “Ghostface” killer, it was a nice little town. But as much as she hated to admit it, she was bored.
She had been hunting for a second job, but she wondered if she just wasn’t cut out for a simple quiet life. Not after a life of always being on edge- but she was trying.
She was friendly with several people at the bar, a good handful of their regulars seemed to like her, and she remembered a few names. Mary was a very kind woman who lamented about her husband- she drank anything sweet. Mr. Grady liked his bourbon and to be left alone aside from refills. Alex was younger than the others and liked to try different beers with random groups of friends. Jed preferred whiskey and was always quiet, and something about that man’s eyes made her wish she was older.
Not that she’d ever touch even flirting a man like that with a ten-foot pole. She was inexperienced, not naïve.
But that didn’t stop her from enjoying the eye candy, amongst others she saw in the bar. There was a cute, red head in glasses that stopped by once and she almost asked for the other woman's number but chickened out. There wasn’t any harm in looking, at least. Cheryl was pretty sure she was still a normal human, after all.
It just caught her off-guard when she caught Jed staring back, knowing damn well he knew he was too old for that shit too. But he just seemed to stare back, unlike some assholes she's smacked for trying to feel her up.
One great thing the gig Douglas set up for her though, was how she never had to worry about being attacked on the way home; it wasn’t like anyone could follow her and there was just one way into the second level. She had room to be ballsy with what she did have experience in.
The crowd tonight was average for a Friday, with most of the tables full. Mr. Grady was in his booth reading a paper, Alex and a few of his friends were at the bar and Jed was watching her from his table by the bar. Mary didn’t seem to be in tonight.
Cheryl kept busy cleaning tables and serving drinks Maggie made, stopping to chat every now and then when she saw Jed motion to wave her over.
He had that look again that made Cheryl painfully aware of herself, but she brushed off her nerves and approached him with a casual smile. “Hey, Jed. Looking for a refill?”
“Yeah, and maybe you’ll indulge me,” his voice seemed deeper than normal. “When do you get off tonight?”
Cheryl gave him a look and laughed. “Har-har, Jed. Good one. I’ll have a fresh glass back in a sec.”
Something flickered behind Jed’s gaze, but it was gone before she could place it. She didn’t think he was trying to flirt with her, not anything earnest, at least, with the random jokes he’s cracked before.
She put his drink order in with Maggie before getting called to another table, recognizing these guys from the weekend before. “Hey guys, what are ya looking for?”
One of the taller guys flashed his teeth at her, obviously already drunk. “You, baby. Why don't you give me your number?”
The other guys around him were laughing but Cheryl just rolled her eyes at him, putting her hand on her hip. “Not even to save your life. It’s either food or drinks or I’m out of here.”
His smile instantly dropped. “Don’t be like that, I'm trying to be nice here.”
Cheryl laughed at him then, not caring how the expressions at the table were turning into a mix of anger and shock. “And I’m trying to work. Don’t waste my time.” She turned around, expecting the interaction to be done.
“Stupid bitch!” the drunk man yelled from behind her.
She wasn’t ready for the stab of pain in the back of her head, or even ready to catch herself as she fell to the ground, a metal napkin holder bouncing off and hitting the ground nearby. There was a loud crash and a bunch of yelling before Cheryl gathered her bearings, her head ringing and throbbing fiercely as the lights above her flickered.
After a few blinks she realized a larger man had the drunk dude pinned into the booth, fist after fist pelting the drunk’s face as his friends tried to get the other man off him. Maggie and Walter came running over, looking panicked and confused. Everyone was yelling and Cheryl just sat on the ground with the back of her head hurting wondering what the fuck just happened.
“Jed, what in the hell is going on?!” Walter was yelling, finally able to pull Jed off the drunkard.
“Bitch fucking hit Cheryl.” He growled, dark eyes blazing with rage.
"What?” Maggie exclaimed as she seemed to notice her on the floor and moved towards the younger woman, but Jed had already stepped forward, offering out his hand.
“Are you alright?” He still looked ready to kill but spoke softer at her.
She took his hand to stand, using the other to feel her head. “I think? Um, thanks?”
“I should fucking press charges!” the drunk man slurred, face busted and bleeding as his friends stood around him, helping hold him up.
“Go right ahead, I have cameras. They’ll show what you did too! Walter, throw his ass out of here!” Maggie shrieked, wrapping her arm around Cheryl. “You’re whole fucking group is banned!”
“Fuck you!” the drunk went to keep yelling, but his friends tried to hush him, and forcefully led him out as Walter glowered.
After a moment Maggie sighed, examining Cheryl's head. “Why don’t you get home, get some ice on that and relax for the night? I’ll clean up.”
“Are you sure?”
“Of course, girl. Go.” Maggie smiled and went to straighten the mess at the booth up.
Cheryl looked back up at Jed as she started walking to the bar, not realizing that he was rather tall. “I- uh, thank you again. You didn’t need to do that though,”
He gave her that look again, but his lips turned up into a smirk. “I don’t take disrespect like that too well. He got off lucky.”
Cheryl chuckled, not sure how to take his comment, and went behind the bar to grab her bag. “Well, thanks again. I’m going to listen to Mags though and get some ice on my head.”
“I can take you home, if you want? Unless you already have a ride?” Jed offered.
Shaking her head, she replied, “I appreciate that, but I’m all good. I just live above the bar, so I don’t have far to go.”
That seemed to surprise him for some reason, the shock clear as day in his expression. “I guess that works out for you then.”
“Yeah, you have a goodnight, Jed. I’ll catch you around.” Cheryl started walking towards the back door that led to her stairs, waving over her shoulder.
“Of course.”
***
Danny couldn’t believe it. She lived above the bar. She lived above the fucking bar.
Over a month of trying to follow her or to find her address and she's been right above the bar the whole fucking time. He didn’t even know there was an apartment up there, the lucky, little, bitch.
Losing his cool back there actually paid off, it seemed.
Not that Danny had any intention of almost beating a man to death in public, that wasn't like him. He calculated his moves, planned everything.
But Cheryl was his. Her pain and her fear belong to him. How dare that drunk bastard think she owed him anything, it all belonged to Danny.
And now he can finally start moving on with his plans. Trying to get above the bar was going to be a challenge, but that's what was addicting about her. She didn’t want to make friends, she didn’t care to flirt, and nothing seemed to bother her past mild annoyances.
That fucker chucked a napkin tin at her head, and she didn’t even seem mad, just tired.
Danny wanted to break her. No, he needed to break her. He needed to hear her screams sing for him, he needed her blood running for him, he needed to feel her cunt squeeze him as he-
The train of thought caught him off guard. Killing excited him, might have gotten him hard a few times, but he never had the urge to fuck any of his victims like that. But Cheryl- the thought wouldn’t leave him now. She became his obsession for the last month, and he didn’t even realize how much until now.
No other mark would satisfy him, not anymore. He needed to plan to get it just right so he could tear her apart before the knife even drew blood.