Feeling himself starting to come around, Darius groans, his head throbbing. Bringing a hand to his head, he feels a sheen of sweat on his forehead. Wiping it away, Darius slowly realizes that the rest of his body feels damp as well. Finding the strength to open his eyes, a forest green color, he finds himself staring up at a dull gray stone ceiling. Blinking, he looks around, and finds himself in a cell, moss growing from various cracks in the walls and ceiling. The front of the cell is made of a series of rusty iron bars, their original color lost to time. "What the hell?" Darius mutters, sitting up. Looking down at the bed he was sleeping on, he sees that it is a cot, the mattress damp and brown. The sweat he had though was his, was condensation from the mist that fills the cell and the hallway beyond it.
Giving his head a shake, Darius tries to think, running a hand through his short brown hair in the process, and comes up with nothing. "My name is Darius." He says out loud. "But, who am I?" Thinking about that question, Darius comes to realize that he can't remember anything else. "I have, amnesia." He mutters. "But, why? And where am I?" Looking around, Darius gets the feeling that his prison is old, very old. The edges of the stones that make up the walls are worn with age, fitted together will little, if any, mortar as far as Darius can see. The moss that grows in his cell is well established, including in the cot that he was sleeping in he quickly realizes.
Getting to his feet, Darius looks down at himself, and sees that he is wearing black fatigue pants and boots, as well as a white T-shirt. Fingerless gloves cover his hands, a sight that somehow stirs something in the back of his mind. Trying to catch that stirring, Darius focuses on it, but fails. "Weird." He says quietly. Taking a step towards the cell door, he stops when his foot hits something. Looking down, he notices something dark. Reaching down, he picks up the object, and finds it to be a small black backpack. Seeing the pack causes more stirrings in the back of his mind, but this time, he chooses to ignore them, instead focusing on the backpack itself.
Feeling it's weight, Darius can tell that it isn't empty. Putting it on the cot, he starts to examine the pack. Rectangular, the pack feels like is has a frame of some sort. The main bag has a smaller pouch on the front, and two side pouches. Opening the side pouches, he finds some strange tools in the right pocket, and a brown hard-plastic oval case in the left pocket. Examining the oval case, Darius tries to open it, but can't figure out how to. Putting the case back, he examines the tools again, and realizes that they are lock-picking tools. This does not disturb him so much as the realization that he knows how to use them. "Why would I need these?" He asks no out loud. "Am I some kind of thief?"
Thinking about that idea, Darius quickly rejects it, the idea not sounding right to him. Putting the tools back in the pocket he found them in, Darius turns his attention to the front pocket of the pack. Inside it, he finds a wallet, an old pocket watch, and a pocketknife. Taking out the wallet, Darius checks it for ID, but finds none. Instead, he finds three hundred dollars in assorted bills, a credit card with the name Sherry Berkins on it, a black, featureless key card, and a picture of a woman. The woman in the picture has long platinum blonde hair and blue eyes. Her skin is a pale white, too pale for a healthy person. Though she is smiling, the smile is tired. "She's sick." Darius mutters, the thought popping into his mind.
Looking at the credit card, Darius wonders if this could be Sherry Berkins, but as soon as the thought comes to mind, something in the back of his mind shoots it down. Putting the picture and credit card away, Darius focuses his attention on the black key card. Featureless, the card has no clue as to its purpose, but holding it, Darius feels a sense of dread linked to the key. "This is bad." He mutters. "Really bad. But why?" Giving his head a shake to dispel the feeling, Darius puts it back in the wallet, and the wallet back into the pouch. Leaving the pocketknife, Darius takes out the pocket watch.
As soon as he touches it, Darius knows the watch is his. Complete with chain and fob, the pocket watch's case is covered with elegant scrollwork, the fob itself a large pin adorned with two rubies and sapphires set in a cross-shaped pattern. Opening the watch's lid, Darius sees that it is still running, the time currently 2:45 pm. But what catches his eye though, is the inscription within the lid. "While angels speak in endless dark, the dead seek out sin." He reads the inscription out loud. "Remember the living, remember the mark." Frowning, Darius tries to make sense of the inscription, but the words do not stir anything in his mind. "This is important though." He concludes, the same feeling in his mind. Hooking the fob to the right side of his belt, Darius closes the watch's lid and puts it in his pocket.
With watch secure, he turns his attention to the main pouch of the backpack. Opening it, he finds first a jacket, folded up to fit in the pack. Taking it out, he sees that it is black. "Something tells me I have a thing for black." Darius mutters sarcastically. "Doesn't feel like it though. I wonder why?" Putting the jacket aside, Darius starts to reach in for the next item, but stops when he hears something. Listening, he hears a scrapping sound in the distance. Metal on stone, something big. Listening to the sound slowly fade away, Darius feels a shiver run down his spine. "That can't be good." He mutters, turning his attention back to the pack. The rest of its contents include a boot knife, a garrote, a leather pouch, and a set of maps. Seeing the maps, Darius unfolds them. "Silent Hill." Reading the name out loud causes a sharp stab of pain to shoot through his head.
Crying out in pain, Darius drops to his knees, clutching his head as images flash through it. Before he can make sense of it though, the images, and the pain, disappear as quickly as they arrive. Panting, he tries to make sense of what had just happened, but can't. "Silent Hill." He says the name out loud again. "That place, I was going there. But why?" Looking at the maps, he can see that various notes and marks had been added to them, several of the streets marked off, as well as some of the buildings. These won't do me much good for now, he thinks to himself, putting the maps away. Turning his attention to the leather pouch, Darius starts to reach for it, when his instincts warn him of danger. Feeling this, he stops to consider it. My instinct, he thinks to himself, not the back of my head. Looking at the pouch, Darius debates it for several seconds, and decides to leave it where be for the moment.
Taking the boot knife, Darius quickly adds it to his right boot, the five inch blade feeling like it belongs there. Looking at the garrote though, Darius feels a little disturbed at the fact he knows it well. "I've killed people with that thing before." The though unsettles him, but at the same time, gives him a sense of pride he cannot identify. Giving his head a shake, Darius takes the maps, and puts them in the front pouch, then folds the jacket, and puts it back into the bag on top of the garrote and leather pouch. As he does this, Darius once more hears the scraping sound once more. "I got to get out here." He mutters.
Shouldering the pack, Darius notes how it too feels comfortable and right on his back. These are my things, the thought comes to him. This is my way of life. This thought stops him in his tracks. But what is my way of life, he asks himself. Unfortunately, the secrets locked away in the back of his mind don't have an answer for him. Sighing, he puts those thoughts aside for the time being. Going to the cell door, he starts to examine the rusted portal. Giving the door a shake, he feels it give. The door is unlocked, but the hinges rusted are shut. Taking a step back, Darius brings his foot up and kicks the door hard. Though it budges, it does not give, but after two more kicks, the door crashes open with a tortured screech of rusted metal that makes him wince.
Stepping out of his cell, Darius sees that the hallway goes around a large, central square pillar. Going to the left, Darius sees another cell. The cell door is gone, and the cot is a shattered ruin of torn linen and twisted metal. At the center of the cell floor is a large, jagged hole, as though someone had taken an enormous knife, and hacked at the floor until they made a hole. On the wall behind the hole, the word 'Prison' has been scratched into the stone. Looking into the hole, he sees inky black darkness, but can tell it does a long way down.
Past the cell, the hallway continues on after it turns around the pillar. Going to the intersection, Darius sees a large, heavy iron door to his right, another cell after it before the hallway turns around the pillar once more. Before him, the hallway continues before turning to the left. Taking a step forward, Darius stops when he hears the scraping sound, this time, getting closer. Reaching for his boot knife, Darius draws it as someone comes around the corner. The man, at least, Darius thinks it is a man, is huge. Whether it is his actual size, or the massive, triangular helmet that it wears over its head, the man stands seven feet tall, almost ten feet with the helmet. The man wears what looks like a pair of white, stained overalls and boots, and a large apron. In one hand, he drags behind him a massive knife-like sword, the source of the scraping sound.
"Holy shit!" Darius exclaims. "Pyramid Head!" How he knows the monster's name, for a monster it truly is, Darius does not know. What he does know, in the back of his mind, is that he's faced this thing before at some point, and that it didn't end well. Turning to face him, Pyramid head starts walking towards him, dragging his great knife behind him. Cursing, Darius takes a step back from the monster. Can't kill it, he thinks to himself. Not without a gun. Looking around, Darius debates what to do, when his instincts cry out danger from behind. Throwing himself to the side, Darius tucks into a role, coming up in a crouch facing his assailant. Another Pyramid Head, though this one is dark skinned, and carries a large fire axe. Cursing, Darius turns and sprints towards the door. As he reaches it, he sees a third Pyramid Head approaching. This one though, is smaller, and slender. A woman, he realizes in surprise.
The new Pyramid Head is wearing a white, stained business suite, her wrists slashed and bloody, a large, bloody kitchen knife in her hand. As she advances towards him, Darius turns to the large metal door. Grabbing the handle, he pulls at it with all his might as the first Pyramid Head comes around the corner. Looking over his shoulder, the woman pyramid stands strangely still. Cursing, Darius cannot seem to get the door to open, when suddenly, it comes flying open. Startled, Darius stumbles backwards as a fourth Pyramid Head comes charging through the portal. Wielding a spear, it stabs him in the stomach, pushing him back into the side of the pillar, skewering him there. Crying out in pain, Darius dimly notes that it is another woman, this one wearing what had once been an expensive white dress, now torn and stained.
Gasping in pain, Darius tries to fight back, but the Pyramid Head holds him firmly in place as the first one hefts his great knife. "I love you." A familiar voice whispers in his ear. Surprised, Darius looks for his source, but sees only the knife as it comes at his head.
Crying out in surprise, Darius sits up as consciousness hits him like a brick wall. Sitting up, he looks around, and once more finds himself in his cell. "What the fuck!" He shouts angrily. Looking down at his stomach, he sees that he is fine, his shirt pristine as when he had awoken the first time. Giving his head a shake, Darius reaches down, and picks up his pack, the item in the same place as he had found it before. "This can't be real." Darius mutters in disbelief. Going through the pack though, he finds the same items as before, all in the exact same place. Cursing, he throws the pack onto the corner of the cot. "What the hell is going on?" He asks himself, trying to think. Looking around, Darius stops when he notices something new on the wall before him.
'1 down, 8 to go' is now scratches into the wall. That wasn't there before, Darius thinks, getting to his feet. Going to the wall, he inspects the writing, and sees that it is just as old as everything else he has seen so far. Giving his head a shake, Darius tries to think. This is all real, the thought comes to him. I've been killed once, and now, it seems I have eight more deaths ahead of me. "This isn't a damn game." He growls. Giving his head a shake, Darius reclaims his pack, taking out the watch and boot knife as before. Now re-equipped, he kicks the cell door open once more, his anger over the situation giving him the extra strength to do it in one hit.
Stepping out of his cell, Darius starts to go right, when a though occurs to him. "Maybe this is some sort of a game." He mutters, something in the back of his mind stirring. Getting an idea, Darius goes left, the same way as he had gone before. Reaching the intersection, he hears the scratching sound. Seconds later, Pyramid head starts to come around the corner. Looking over his shoulder, he sees the second one, Axe Head he decides to call him, coming around the corner. "I don't know what's going on." Darius mutters, walking towards the metal door. As he reaches it, the third one, Knife Head, appears. "But I'm not going to rot in here."
Trying the door, he finds it stuck as before, and takes a step back. As Pyramid Head comes around the corner, the door bursts open, and Spear Head comes charging in like before. Sidestepping to avoid her rush, Darius easily slips past and starts running up a long, dark flight of stairs. In the distance, he hears a loud siren in the distance. I'm getting the fuck out of here, he thinks to himself as he continues to run up the seemingly endless flight of stairs.
After a bit, he notices a subtle change in the walls around him, the stone becoming dry wall. Suddenly, the end appears suddenly, and Darius almost runs headlong into a wooden door, a single light above it. Surprised and tired, Darius stops, panting. Checking his watch, he sees that the time is 2:49 pm. Taking a moment to catch his breath, Darius looks around, and sees no sign of pursuit. "Why did they do the same thing as before?" He wonders out loud. "Its like, they were following a pattern." Giving his head a shake, Darius files the information away for later. Turning his attention to the door, he notices a letter pinned to it. Pulling it off the door, he starts to read it.
I can't, I can't do it anymore. This place, this horrible place. It's worse then the town. I tried to get out, but they're everywhere. They want me to free them, but they can't help but kill me. It's already been 8 times, one for each of those bastards. Yeah, that's it. 8 of those fucking monsters, each one of them killed me. 7 fucking minions, and him to watch it all. I can't, I can't take it anymore. It's crazy, it's insane. I'm insane, I have to be. I'm going to die, and I know I won't be the last one. So, here's what I know.
You can only go in the gun room once.
I left a clue under the chip wagon
Don't enter the cave without the chainsaw guy
There's lots of clues in the teacher's room
Don't use the projector, she'll come in if you do
Prison and to hell are bad, but he'll never let you into the end
Don't trust anyone outside of the basement. They're just as screwed up as monsters.
I drew a map on the other side of this page, I hope it helps
Good Luck, See you in the next life
Ranse Truman
Flipping the page over, Darius sees the hand drawn map on the back mentioned in the letter. Looking at it, he sees the basement area where he had woken up, as well as the various other places mentioned in the note. Looking back at the note itself, Darius sees the shaky handwritten, and notices that it is written in red ink. "I hope that's ink." Darius grimaces. Checking the flip side, he sees that the map is drawn in black ink. "Seven minions, and one overseer." Darius muses. "Pyramid head is the overseer, and those others are the minions. Question is, who are the others? He makes it sound like there's other people trapped in this place."
Realizing that he's talking out loud, Darius gives his head a shake. "Fuck, I'm better then this." He growls. "Get it together man, you've got to survive." Taking a few deep breaths to steady himself, Darius feels a calm starting to settle over him. Feeling once more in control, Darius folds the map, and puts it in his pocket. Reaching for the doorknob, Darius tries it, and finds it locked. Sighing, he reaches behind him, and without thought, takes out the lock picks, and starts to pick the lock. "This is crazy." He mutters as he picks the lock with little effort. I have got to figure out who I am, he thinks to himself. Door unlocked, Darius puts away the lock picks before opening the door.
Beyond the portal is a dimly lit hallway with a brown carpet and dark beige walls, the kind one usually sees in a hotel. Three doors line the walls on each side before the hallway opens up into a larger room further ahead. To his left, the first door has the barrel of a rifle sticking out of the upper-left corner of the doorframe at an angle, pointing towards the end off the hallway. Gun room, Darius remembers from the map. Looking at the door, Darius debates going in, but remembers the warning from the letter. Instead, he walks down the hallway, and enters the reception area marked on the map.
Aptly named, the reception area looks more like the office of a small motel then anything else. A reception desk sits against the wall opposite of Darius, a door to its left. The right hand wall is made of what looks like glass, complete with glass door, but black as night. Going to the door, Darius reaches out a hand to try it, but stops when he realizes that the door is just a part of the wall. Looking around again, Darius notices a large, black piece of stone set in the center of the room. Going over to it, he sees that it is one large piece of what looks like marble, though it is as black as the wall and it's fake door.
Going over to the reception desk, Darius sees a large blood stain, a pen in the middle of it. "I get the feeling that wasn't red ink." He mutters. Behind the desk is a series of mail boxes on the wall, all of them empty except for one. Curious, Darius starts to go around the desk to inspect the box's contents, when he hears the tell tale sound of an automatic's slide clicking into place.