From 11x20 [July 27, 2009]:
Major updates: Chapters 0, 1, and 2 revised.

After going back over these chapters I decided that I could write this mother better. Chapter "0" is now going to be Chapter "1", so everything afterward will be revised. The plot will stay the same, so if you've already read these chapters and don't really care to read them again, no worries, you're not missing much. But newcomers will be treated to a more polished version of the first few chapters. Updates will resume once I'm done editing all this.

Critique is love, I'm always looking to improve my writing. Any tossed this way will be met with crazy appreciation. Thank you for reading, everyone!

1.

…I'm alive…

Eileen Galvin's apartment was illuminated by a thin ray of light. The cold, but gentle glow cast faint light on the flood of moss-green furniture and occasional surreal painting hanging on the wall. At the center of the room, an unconscious Eileen lay prone on the floor. A nightmare had her desperate mind trapped like a struggling deer in a tar pit.

Her mascara smeared as tears spilled through her tightly shut lashes. Her breathing suddenly hitched up, and her fingers began to twitch. The wall dividing dreams and reality that had been torn down so viciously before was being rebuilt. Soon, she would be on the side of the wall which demons could never set foot.

A soft cry escaped her lips at first, before she bolted up, eyes wild with fear.

"GET AWAY!"

Her awakening, her triumphant leap over that great wall left her trembling. She scoured the area around her for the assailant from her nightmare, screaming,

There was no trace of the man with the long blue coat. Her breaths growing steady, she pulled her knees close to her body. .Eileen found herself eying her living room—that killer could be anywhere, she thought, feeling each shadow taking his form. Her nerves were hot with adrenaline and around every corner she expected to see that man's dirty, blood-stained face gazing at her with lifeless eyes and a grin. But he was nowhere to be seen… the deer had truly pulled itself from the deep tar pit, and that great wall stood between she and anything that threatened her in dreams.

Despite her triumphant victory, she only found the strength to sob. The world within that dream could only be recalled in fragments. Yet it had been a terrifying place that the real world deteriorated into seamlessly. What happened the night before? There was a party… she picked out that short, purple dress and worked up the courage to invite her neighbor… Henry, she thought with a comforting fondness. When she heard someone knocking at her front door, she couldn't help but smile and hope it was Henry by some coincidental chance.

Was that moment, when she had opened the door with an excited smile, the moment that the wall crumbled?

The third floor hallway was empty. With an irritated sigh, doorbell-ditchers came to mind and Eileen closed the door. Returning to her living room, she saw him standing there. A man with sandy hair and an unkempt, bloodstained face towered over her. Before she could even scream, the invader attacked her.

The rest of the nightmare was some strange blur that made her split with pain when she tried to analyze it. The man had not been a burglar or a rapist, but she remembered the powerlessness and fear she felt beneath his fists. She did not even know the man, yet he was bent on beating her to a pulp. He beat her down with the fury of a maniac who had been wronged one too many times to keep the rage of a lifetime bottled up any longer.

Eileen remembered fighting for her life, but being brought down quickly. Before long, she was on the ground in fractures and bruises, certain that she was going to die. Yet something stopped the man… the sound of a crying little boy, begging him to stop hurting her. Without question, the attacker was gone. Eileen remembered looking up at the little boy who saved her life. His eyes were almost hollow, as if he were a boy that had never once experienced happiness. That child was alone, searching for his mother, Eileen knew. The boy's sorrow was still very vivid in her mind.

The brutal thrashing she received in her nightmare had sent her to the hospital. For the remainder of the experience she hobbled around in a heavy cast, bandages, and an aching, bloody body.

Eileen looked down at her body, letting relief wash over her as she found only smudges of lipstick on her forearm and a dried mascara stain on the rug. Despite the otherwise normal state of her body, something still ached inside of her. Without even going to the party, she was waking up feeling as though she had been hit by a train.

She wiped her tears away with a sigh and tried not to think about that unusually detailed dream. Often, she dreamt about returning to old places she had visited in the past. Other times, she found herself flying over a lake, or even wandering around in an endless library.

"Hey, Eileen! Just callin' to see if you were going to stop by, we're waiting for you!" Lindsay's voice bounced from her answering machine. Eileen smiled at her friend's call. She could hear the loud rhythmic bass of the party's music in the background. It was the only message on her answering machine, from about 11 PM the night before.

Calling her back would do little good… With a glance at the kitchen clock, she saw that it was still seven in the morning… knowing Lindsay, she was either hung over or still passed out on a couch. It brought a much-needed laugh to Eileen as she wiped away any remaining tears

"Jesus… what a nightmare." Eileen sighed aloud.

A hot shower was in order, Eileen thought. The smeared makeup and the feeling of being smudged with dirt and grime seemed to crawl across her skin. In reality, she had not stepped outside since that trip to the store down the street. But unconsciously remembering that dream brought glimpses of running through the woods, following Henry out of some kind of hell. She felt like she had run a marathon.

That's right… Henry was there. Henry had come for me in a hospital. We were… escaping the hospital? But it kept on going. It became a forest, it became a series of buildings, it even became our own apartment.

Eileen stepped into her bathroom after finding new clothes and a fresh towel.

But what the hell happened after that? I remember following that little boy...

In that nightmare, she had followed Henry through grisly worlds smattered with rust and grime. The scent of blood and decay remained strong in her mind. Everything had been cold, and her body ached from the damages inflicted by that man—he had been a fanatic cultist and a killer. Together, she and Henry fought desperately to escape the world he had crafted by some supernatural means.

As more and more came to mind, a small and illogical part of her mind began to question the reality of that experience. What had become of that little boy? What had become of that maniac with the long blue coat?

She shook the memories from her mind. Dwelling on it so deeply was going to get her nowhere. After finishing up her shower she changed into a long-sleeved, cotton shirt and some denim Capri pants. April mornings usually started a bit chilly in Ashfield, but warmed up by the afternoon. There were errands that had to be run—groceries, an electricity bill that lay obnoxiously upon her kitchen counter waiting to be paid, and a few books she had been meaning to pick up at the library.

She toweled dry her short chestnut hair and combed it smooth. She stuffed the small, purple wallet she had kept since high school into her pocket and picked her keys out of the violet purse upon her counter.

Eileen was ready to forget the dream and return to her life. There was too much irony in being free of that world, yet still trapped mentally. Locking the apartment door behind her, she stepped out into the third floor hallway and cast a glance in the direction of Room #302.

Henry Townshend, the kind man in her dream who had protected her from the nightmare's unworldly creatures was in reality, a soft-spoken hermit of a man. Eileen only really knew his face and had exchanged the usual greetings and small conversations when they crossed paths in the hallways. Their meetings were brief, but still, she found herself dwelling on him. He had lived there for a few years, either holed up in his apartment or away for days, taking photos and writing.

He had once told her about a visit to the nearby resort town of Silent Hill, sounding more interested in the scenery and history of the town than anyone else she had ever spoken to. It was a short chat. Upon realizing how deep into their talk he had fallen, he abruptly nodded and said, "Well, I need to get back to work. You have a good day, Eileen."

Without a missed beat, he had disappeared into his apartment.

He was strange, she thought, but cute. For a moment she felt immense regret about missing that party. She had wanted to stop by Henry's apartment and ask on the spur of the moment if he would be up to going to that party with her. Lindsay had suggested the idea to Eileen—a first move that she had thought about and rehearsed in her mind for days.

She knew that she was more likely to be shot down in his passive but kind,

"I'm sorry, I'm really not up for it. Thanks, though, Eileen."

Although… just knowing she tried was a first step to knowing more about this reclusive Henry Townshend.

The hallway was dim, and the air was starting to thicken. Eileen began to think back to the nightmare.

Henry had been in danger, alone with that maniac… had he come out alright? She shook her head and forced a smile, of course he was alright—Henry was right there in his apartment. That was a dream, this was reality.

I must be really losing it if I'm worrying about things that happened in my nightmare…

Eileen took slow steps toward the door of Room #302. No matter how she tried to reassure herself that it was all some horrible fantasy, the closer she got to the door, the heavier the air felt.

If everything that happened was a dream, then… I still don't even know you, Henry…

In the dream, Henry had told her he was locked inside his apartment, with no way out. He explained that no matter how loud he cried out for help, and no matter how hard he tried to break the windows, he was locked in by some otherworldly force. Henry was surrounded by inexplicable instances of lights and electronics turning on and off, crying shadows in his closet, and some kind of dark hole in his bathroom that lead to strange places. It sounded crazy, Eileen had thought… but something in her nightmare somehow validated that—she just couldn't quite remember what, though.

If I knocked, would you still be trapped in that room? Are you even trapped? Are you even in there?

At that point, she realized just how tense her nerves had become. She reached up to knock on the door, eyes locked on the metal numbers labeling the door. That number, '302' sent an uneasy chill to her core. Gathering her courage and sucking in a breath of cold and almost stale air, she brought her knuckles down on the surface.

A muffled, high-pitched squeal came from within. She felt as if her heart had jumped up and caught in her throat. What the hell was that—a dying bat or rodent?

"H-Henry?" Her mouth and throat felt dry, and her voice so quiet it was almost nonexistent.

She heard what sounded like feet shuffling behind the door. Eileen waited for a moment, her body tense and her breath held. Her palms felt damp and her fingertips trembled. The hallway on either side of her was empty and dark. She took a tentative breath and moved toward the door once again.

Closer now, she rose up onto her toes to glance into the peep hole. Everything was a dark blur—of course, she knew she wouldn't be able to see anything from that end, but she had hoped to at least make out a moving silhouette. She only leaned against the door lightly before it swung open.

With a startled cry, Eileen stumbled to her knees inside of the apartment. As if the air had not been thick enough in the hallway, it was now enough to be crushed under. The apartment had the faint scent of cigarettes masking something rotten. Eileen pulled herself to her feet and took a nervous step inside, ready to apologize profusely if Henry came out into the living room wondering what in God's name flung through the front door. After all, it had hit the wall with a slam hard enough to be heard in the bedrooms.

The blinds were sealed, blocking all but a few rays of light that weeded through. Deeper into the apartment, she found that the ceiling fan had taken a violent crash atop a square coffee table. There were wax puddles and half-melted candles placed everywhere in strange places… atop a recliner, next to a wall with a large crack in it…

Eileen brought a hand slowly to her mouth in horror. She had seen it all before.

An apartment full of burnt out candles…

Oh God… it wasn't a dream, was it?

Eileen shifted about nervously, eyes still on the wreckage before her, "H-Henry?"

All around her, the apartment was growing colder by the minute.

Eileen knew there was evil in that place, and debated taking off out of the apartment as fast as her legs could take her, or investigating further for any trace of her neighbor. Her dream had to have either been some kind of sign or, more frightening yet, a reality. She was not about to leave Henry alone… where the hell could he be? Where was the last place she saw him in her dream? In some twisted nightmare rendition of the apartment complex they both lived in?

When she heard a crackling and popping noise coming from the hallway behind her, the fear of what she may see froze her solid. She couldn't bring herself to turn around and see one of those… demons from her nightmare. Floating corpses with pale, blotchy skin, reeking of decay which Henry referred to as ghosts were still fresh in her mind. Their limbs didn't move and their heads hung limp. Dull gray eyes stretched wide and full of terror, as if the moment of death had been locked on their face forever.

Every moment a demon floated near her it was accompanied by some kind of low hum from somewhere in the depths of her mind. She was losing it. The fear was becoming too much. She knew something was behind her, watching her, waiting for her to circle around and become its next victim.

Eileen gathered her courage and turned.

She could see the dark blue rug curling at the edges,rotting away from the outside. The walls were lighting up with vein-like cracks and the paint was contorting upward and drifting up in large pieces into the air, where they burnt away into black ashes. Stepping out of the hallway was that man.

She screamed in terror at the sight of the killer with dirty blonde hair and a long blue raincoat. In one hand, stained with dirt and blood was a handgun, and in the other was an axe. His lips were twisted into a faint smile as he looked down at her. Eileen stumbled backward when her foot caught on the fallen ceiling fan.

She knew very well who he was—the killer from her nightmare called Walter Sullivan.

He raised the rusted axe in his hand and Eileen knew she was going to die. With a frantic scream, she scrambled for cover. Just as she turned away, she saw the face of a gray demon with peeling flesh behind her. It hung upside down with a long body that disappeared beneath the waist into the crackling ceiling. Its jaws unhinged like a hungry snake, revealing long sharp teeth connected by threads of black saliva. The demon shifted its weight back fast to swing at Eileen with open jaws.

Eileen could barely muster another terrified scream, merely whimpering between her tears as the creature suddenly exploded into a bloody spray. As she squeezed her eyes shut and ducked down, she realized that the now-bellowing creature was writhing in agony with an axe buried deep in its inhuman mouth.

Oh, disgusting…

She turned away as Walter put one heel on the creature's shoulder to pull the axe from its shattered bone and cartilage. Eileen wasted no time crawling past the killer's legs and ran straight for the door.

From the corner of her eye she saw the killer turn around with fresh blood running down his jacket. He shifted his grip on the axe, and began to walk quickly after her. Eileen pulled herself to her feet and ran for the third floor hallway. To her horror, the corruption of the room was followingher. More withering walls were decaying to reveal an out of place skeleton of grated metal behind. Eileen raced passed her own apartment and to the stairwell.

Oh God, no… not here too!

She reached the stairwell only to find it rotting fast into the one she had seen in her nightmare. The walls were worn away and the floors were covered in a something like a thin layer of sanguine flesh. She was determined to make it to the entrance in the first floor lobby below and escape before it rotted away too. Cracks were forming a great web along the walls, make their way toward the base of the apartment complex. The real world was becoming the killer's world.

In that world, she knew would be locked in, and swallowed up by the spreading evil with everything else. This time wouldn't have Henry to protect her from the demons and the killer.

Eileen dashed down the flights of stairs faster that she should have. She caught herself on the railing as she slipped on the slippery skin growing over each inch of the floor. Her stomach sank when the railing began to wobble. It shattered like old wood beneath her, splintering down to two floors below to the lobby floor. Eileen had just barely leapt back quick enough to avoid falling with it.

"Miss Galvin, I've been waiting for you." The killer's voice had an unsettling gentleness.

Eileen glanced up to see him coming quickly down the stairs behind her. Without hesitation, she was back on her feet and running down the stairs.

Yes, almost there… almost free…!

By the second floor she had passed the spreading flesh and wires. But there was still a growingweb of cracks just feet above the exit, traveling down the walls and devouring everything in its path.

As Eileen neared the door, she heard the man behind her pick up his pace.. She could almost feel him behind her as she leapt off of the stairs onto the slippery lobby floor. With one last cry she raced for the doors, pushed them open. She felt his fingertips along her back and dove into an unexpected sea of thick, white fog beyond the doors.

I'm free. I made it… oh God, I made it.

Silence interrupted only by the sound of her sneakers hitting the concrete below and her terrified breaths as she ran deeper into the mist. She looked back over her shoulder, unable to see more than four feet behind her before the fog erased the world from existence. Eileen Galvin ran for her very life into the chokingly thick fog, blinded by the morning light.

When she realized that the only footsteps she heard were her own, she slowed down. Her lungs ached for air and she was nauseatingly exhausted. She wiped a mix of blood and sweat from her forehead as she looked back and listened for the sound of his footsteps. He must have given up, if he had even followed her out of that apartment he haunted.

Tired, she dropped to her knees for rest.

Something was wrong. Eileen looked around, seeing only fog around her. The street went on forever all around her, like a plateau of concrete. There were no buildings. There were no street signs, even. Just an ocean of cold, white fog.

"Please God, let me wake up, let me wake up, let me wake up… Save me, please, anyone, anything… save me… God, help me…" Her voice was barely a dry whisper.

Eileen's chest rose and fell as she squeezed her eyes shut, praying to wake up from the nightmare once more. But no matter what words she spoke or what God she prayed to, she only opened her eyes to see the pure white fog that swallowed her.