AN: I don't own Silent Hill 4, and make no profit from this.
Welcome to the first of a string of drabbles resultant of my reawakened obsession for Silent Hill 4. I blame the awe-inspiring Sulhadahne and her beyond awesome fics. Darn you, you wonderful woman you. ಠ_ಠ;
Please Enjoy!~
It had been odd enough when Sunderland was arguing with someone just out of Henry's view for hours on end, just plain weird when Walter "the psycho killer" Sullivan would stop by and just stare in, and freaky as high hell when bloody words scrawled through their hand print counterparts, barely legible at an obtuse angle, making Henry think at first that half of it was in Russian. But when Eileen started fighting some invisible being or another back and forth across the hallway, Henry knew, without a doubt, dead people and monsters aside, that he was either nuts or (more probably) that the world was wrong.
Oh, how little he knew.