Sick masochist desires. James Sunderland came to this town, the town called Silent Hill to punish himself. He did something horrible. Something disgraceful. Something against every moral he had ever learned.

He committed murder. Not just to anyone, no. He killed his own wife, his love, his soul mate.

He tried to make excuses for himself, attempting to settle his tormenting mind. But it failed, instead he snapped. He forced the memory, tried to believe it wasn't him. She died of natural causes, three years ago. But truth be told, while his wife was in her time of need, suffering on her death bed, he took a pillow and smothered her.

It was to end her suffering. I loved her.

But he knew that wasn't true. He hated her. Every time he came home from work she screamed, bitched, moaned and fussed. He needed to end his suffering, not hers.

This act he committed of stealing an innocent life forced him to suffer a never ending hell. One tenfold of what his beloved Mary had suffered before her quick death.

-Reborn-

James lay crumpled on the ground. It was him who killed his wife. Tears streamed from his eyes, forming a small puddle on the ground. His hands shook violently as he scrabbled to grab the flash light that had rolled out of his coat.

Next to him were the two pyramid heads. Each impaled by their own knifes. They were for him, meant to torment and remind him of the horrible crime he had committed. Once he did realize what he had done, he knew he know longer had a need for them. He had created them to fulfill his desires to be punished for the sins he had committed against Mary. He was done with them now, he no longer had a need for the two executioners.

"I was weak. That's why I needed you... needed someone to punish me for my sins... but that's all over now... I know the truth. Now it's time to end this."

And with that the executioners commenced in a double suicide.

With a final choked sob James pushed himself up. The room was dark and haunting, a hanging lap, swinging back and forth over his head, the bulb flickering on and off. He caught sight of his flashlight, next to the dead body of one of the creatures. He grimaced and slowly walked over to them, his feet dragging across the ground. He leaned forward and grabbed the flashlight but let out a cry of shock when the executioner's skin slowly started to peel off and float up into the air.

Slowly, very slowly. Until there was nothing left of the monsters except their knifes discarded on the ground in a bloody mess.

He composed himself and stood up, the sound of sirens ringing through the air. The last time he had heard the sirens saved him from a most painful death by pyramid head. It was as if the sirens were beckoning the monster away.

He pushed open the door to the room and sighed, not quite sure where he was going. He pulled out a map from his pocket, his eyes skimming over it. He had made the map by hand with a worn out sharpie marker and minimal light source. It was Kindergarten level at best. But it was helpful and gave him some knowledge of where he was.

Right now all he wanted to know was where the exit to the damned building was. He squinted his eyes and leaned forward to see that most of the map was destroyed by water and blood. He let out a screech of frustration and threw the map down. He was in no mood for this.

He walked out of the room, making sure to stomp on the destroyed map in the process and looked around. He needed to rely on his memory and retrace his steps.

By the time he had finally gotten outside night had fallen and it was impossible to see anything. James frowned. He needed to find somewhere to stay for now, with a defeated sigh, he walked up to a house. James entered, closing and locking the door behind him.

He first scoped the house, looking for any demons. His radio would always seem to react when a monster was around, making a loud static noise. But since there was no crackling emitting from his pants, he came to the conclusion that it was safe. He found the bedroom and peaked in.

It was fairly clean, a thin layer of dust coating most everything in it.

But James was not going to be sleeping in there. The reason being?
A nice little carcass of a large man was rotting away on the bed. James shivered and quickly closed the door. The couch would work just fine. He pulled his hand gun out of the back of his pants and set it on a small table next to the couch. James sighed and slid onto the bed, propping his feet up on the arm rest and closed his eyes.

Mentally and physically exhausted. He wanted nothing better then just close his eyes and sleep. He didn't want to wake up.

"How are you doing Mary?" James smiled to his weak wife, a sugar coated malicious smile. Mary looked up to him, her eyes half lidded.

"I'm fine…I guess." She erupted in violent coughing. Mary was in her late stages of cancer and it pained yet also, disgustingly excited James. He softly placed his hand on her forehead and Mary looked up with tired innocent eyes.

"I love you." She whispered.

James nodded his head. "I love you, too." As soon as the words left his mouth, he grabbed the pillow out from under her and smashed it against her face. Mary struggled weakly, slowly suffocating as James gritted his teeth, waiting for her movements to cease. Mary's kicking and thrashing slowed before finally all together stopping.
James pulled away, a large grin sweeping his lips.

James awoke in a cold sweat. His eyes were wide as he peered around, his heart thumping. He leaned over the bed and gagged. All he had were dry heaves, he hadn't eaten in very long, only resorting to the occasional energy drink he saw discarded on the ground. He shakily slid out of bed, trying to shake the horrible nightmare from his thoughts.

He grabbed the hand gun from off the table and held onto it. His hands shook violently and he could feel the hot tears burning his eyes.

Despite what he told the two monsters, he still felt guilty, he hated himself. He wanted punishment for his sins.

He walked forward, feeling dizzy and nearly collapsing. He was able to keep himself from falling by quickly shooting his arm out and supporting his weight against the wall. His knees were weak and shaky and he hung his head forward. He knew he wasn't going to be able to sleep now. Might as well cover some ground, instead of just sitting there, brooding over his wife's death.

James left the house, the cold air pricking at his skin. He zipped up his jacket and peered around, widening his eyes in an attempt to see better in the dark.

After a minute of silence, his eyes slowly got used to the lack of light and he was able to make out things on the street. He pulled out his flashlight just in case and started down the street, keeping an eye out for anything suspicious, just in case his radio decided to not work.

He walked down the empty street, hearing the vicious barks of a dog somewhere off in the distance. James shivered lightly and glanced up to a street sign.

'Oakwod drive'. He almost smiled, that meant he was near the end of the town, that he could finally leave.

He changed from a walk to a full out sprint. Wanting to get out of the wretched town, but gasped. He looked over the large cliff that was in front of him.

It's still isolated?

When he first entered Silent hill, it was like any other ghost town. Quiet and deserted. But as soon as a deathlike fog swept into the town. That all changed. When he tried to leave, he found the whole town has no exit, only a dead drop edge. It scared him, but he was certain that after he had admitted what he had done wrong and now that the executioners were gone, everything would be in order again. No more demons, no more death. He just wanted to go home.

A sob escaped his lips as he pounded his hand against the ground. He wanted to go home. No more Silent Hill, just alone in a bed.

He stayed on the ground, curled up in a ball in silence. That was until his radio went off and the screech of metal against concrete pounded in his ears.