Silent Hill : Creation of the Monster
(Disclaimer: I don't own the rights to Silent Hill or any characters that might be in relation to the game, Konami does)
July 1, 1891, Friday
Dear Reynolds,
I have finally moved to a place most perfect,Silent Hill. It is a small town near a lake and it is surrounded by beautiful mountains that are dotted with wonderful pine trees. I am fortunate enough to have moved into a rather large house on the outskirts of the new town which has only around twenty or so houses, a small general store, and a tavern near the towns center. It is a welcome change of scenery since my dear Elizabeth passed on to be with her mother.
Reynolds, you have to see the town itself and the lake in order to fully appreciate such a hidden place. It irradiates with beauty and in the morning the sun rises and peeks into my window waking me with a wonderful feeling. Has there ever been a place more close to the very heaven in which we often wish to be when we pass? I think not, it is a place of immense wonder and awe.
And yet there are already rumors going through the small town. Mainly in the Tavern where most often go at dusk to tell tales, some quite humorous while others. . . others rather unnerving. It was here that I stumbled upon a most peculiar rumor spoken out of the mouth of a man that has been here since the town was in it's earliest stages.
The man, his name was Rance Ventura, was a portly fellow that had a way with swearing and drinking. Rance spoke of the civil war and of a terrible story about a prison that was built near the lake and of the executions that were held there. It seemed that there was also a ship that had been attacked and many innocent men were sunk to the bottom of the lake never to be recovered. If what Rance said was true I would like to find this prison and see it for myself.
I know that when you read this you will be laughing and saying what a romantic I am, but Reynolds look at it from my point of view. This could be the start of something no history book has seen in years. Think about it, a massacre in a quite little lakeside town. I think I will take it upon myself to investigate this rumor and find out if there is more to this rumor, after all I really do not have much to look forward to.
Well I will leave you for now, give my regards to your wife and daughter.
Sincerely
Rustin Ashfield
July 6, 1891,Thursday
Dear Reynolds,
Would you believe me if I told you that I have found a huge stone in the woods near Silent Hill? It is an odd thing with a very smooth surface and when touched, it makes me feel as if something is prying through my head. I found this stone by coincidence the other day while I was out gathering wood to make a fence. My friend and servant Kauffman had mentioned that the natives call it Nahkeehona, they believe it is a means to reach the dead.
When I pressed him for further knowledge on the stone, he merely shrugged and said that he knew only that. I find it to be most fascinating and am going to bring a chisel next time I see it and chip a piece off for you. I know you and your ability to tell what kind of rock it is.
Oh and as for the prison, I seen nothing yet on my search for it, it may be our friend Rance was drinking far too many drams when he spoke his tale. Merely drunk talk is what I am getting at. Ah well, like I've said before, I am a bit of a romantic when it comes to those kinds of things.
But on an interesting note, it does seem as though our lake might be haunted. Haunted? you must be thinking as you read this. Yes haunted. Two nights ago a man by the name of Alice went hunting near the lake Toluca and came back in a rush after being out there for a mere hour. He ran to the tavern and sat at a stool near the bar.
When I approached him he looked up nervously and then took a sip of his ale. He told those fortunate enough to be in the tavern that he saw something. I pressed until I got the full story which was rather queer in nature.
"I'd rather not speak of that thing I saw out on the lake." he said in such a terrified voice.
"It was as if the very forest came to life and urged me to stay until it reached me!" he moaned.
I sat and listened as he went on, as he spoke each word I became more and more engrossed in his tale. You know how I am about the stories of the unknown and the supernatural. I've always been into such things even though you, and several others I've mentioned my fascintation with, have viewed it as childs imagination or utter nonsense. Yet I sat through the whole tale in utter silence listening to each syllable and memorizing them as he went on.
"There was a shadow on the lake, and with it came a thick fog. Thicker than any fog I have seen in my life! I'd swear on a bible that it's true!." he exclaimed heatedly.
When a kind fellow, a doctor by the name of Micheal Valentine, wondered out loud if it wasn't an hallucination Alice grabbed the poor fellow and struck him a hard blow to the side of the head and asked if that was an hallucination. It drew quite a ruckas and everyone had nearly forgotten the story he had told us mere seconds earlier.
Everyone except for myself, and when the Tavern was closing I walked with him to his home and asked him questions about his experience. What I got was only confusion and a queer sense that felt as if I were being followed. He said what he saw was something that can only be described as a childs stick figure brought to life only with decayed skin and a rotten smell.
He didn't know where the fog had come from, it had been a rather cheerful morning and that was what prompted him to even go hunting in the first place. As it turned out he managed to get lost near the lake and in the terror he experienced, managed to run out of the woods and back to the town in a few minutes.
Reynolds I am interested in hearing what you have to say on the matter, please write back and tell me. I must go for now though.
Your Friend
Rustin Ashfield
July 14, 1891, friday
Dear Reynolds,
So many odd things have been happening around the town as of late. It all started when Vincent Coffee found a priest half starved and wounded. The man claimed to be a Catholic and said that he was on his way with a wagon and several others, when they were attacked by indians. Indians! How many years has it been since the indians have attacked wagons? I took it upon myself to let the wounded man stay at my place until he recovered. It took him merely a day and then he was on his feet.
It was the night of the day he recovered, oh and where are my manners, his name was Elias Gillespie. Anyway, it was on the night of the day he recovered that the first of four disappearances happened. It was Mattie Rich, a young women married to the mayors son. She went out for her nightly walk in their backyard and never returned. I happened to be in bed by the time they made a search party for her and I was shaken awake by Kauffman.
Together Kauffman and I searched with twenty or so others in the woods nearby The Rich's house and we found nothing except a scrap of bloody cloth that was later identified as part of her dress. As we got back to Benjamin Rich's home Elias began to pray to his God, a God not known to Catholics. A God called Samael. I must be totally honest with you Reynolds, when he began to pray to this false thing it sent chills up and down my spine.
The second was a young boy by the name of Will Pike. He disappeared in broad daylight without so much as a fuss. We searched high and low for him all day and finally gave up hope after the sun had set and the moon was high. Again Elias began to pray to his dark God.
I noticed though that he was not the only one, Dr. Valentine was also praying with him in that odd tongue. I chose to ignore their almost chant like prayer while others watched in curiosity as they fell to their knees speak their queer tongue. In my mind it seemed like a bad premonition. Like something wicked getting ready to strike.
That night I slept with a chair propped up at my door and my servant Kauffman slept on my floor out of fear, for he too had been shaken when they prayed their unholy prayer.
I slept that night rather restlessly and tossed and turned. I was having disturbing dreams most unlike anything I have ever seen in my entire life. Dreams of twisted bodies and dark screaming creatures that roamed the town and the forest that surrounded the area. I was awoken by a strange muffled cry at my door and when I answered it miss Olivia Owens came bursting in. Her father and mother were gone from their house.
I and Kauffman dressed quickly and went to her home to see what we could find. It was the sight of terror when we got there. I have never seen so much blood on a wall in my life. To be honest I have never even seen blood on a wall until that day. It was soaked in the beds and there sheets as well as the pillows and the floor. The walls were painted with the blood and on the right wall near a window was a symbol.
A symbol not unlike a pentagram, except that it was a mere triangle in the center of the circle instead of a star. On the and around the circle were writings I could not decipher. It was an older language that was dead for all I knew. I looked up and down the room and found nothing not even a small piece of evidence. I was a constable in New York and yet I could find nothing, no evidence that led to a capturing. The blood was not smeered anywhere on the floor nor were there any drag marks to indicate a body being removed.
Reynolds I request that you come immediately and bring me a pistol for I believe we might have a murderer in our midst.
Rustin Ashfield