Authors note: I don't own Silent Hill 4, the characters, the script, the areas, NONE OF IT. If I owned any of it, do you really, honest to God think I'd be writing a fic? xD
I have to thank the wonderful Script Guides at GameFAQs that are aiding me in remembering the script and memos, though I am skipping/changing it a little, with artistic whatchimacallit...Creativity. Yeah, that's the word!
Your gentle voice I hear,
Your words echo inside me
You said you longed for me,
That you loved me
And I want to see you too.
Feels just like I'm falling.
Is there nothing I can do?
Wonder if you hear my calling?
I'm here, and waiting for you,
Where are you? I can't find you.
I'm here, and waiting for you,
I'll wait forever for you...
Ashfield Heights Apartment Complex, Room 302
The air was heavy, what seemed like blood ran across the walls. A young sounding male voice drifted through the thick atmosphere, sounding distant, as if it didn't come from inside the apartment. "What's with this room?" Blinking, whomever was speaking stared around, as if astonished by the bloody streaks along the walls, and the rusting metal. "It...It's covered in blood and rust...This..." He spun on his heels, making quite sure of his observation before voicing it. "This is my room...But, what the hell's happened to it?" He took a few steps down the narrow hall, running his fingers across the wall as he went. "Is this...Really my room? It's in...Terrible shape." He shook his head, and stared intently at the living/dining area, focussing his sight first on the bookcase that sat in the corner beside a window that appeared to be rusted shut, then to the small walk-in kitchen that looked worn-out like the rest on the apartment and covered in blood, and finally to a large, white, blood-covered chest that sat against the right wall beside a television stand. It wasn't the rusty chest that caught his attention, though. There was something on the wall, a scratch mark. Walking over to it, he closely examine it, mouth gaping. "Creepy...It looks like a face, but..." He reached his hand out to touch the mark, but before he could his head pounded with a quick shot of pain. That's when he noticed how thick the air was, like smog, and gasped for air. "It's so heavy, the air...My head...Hurts." he panted, backing away from the mark which seemed now to grin evilly at the poor man. Shaking his head, he let out a sigh. Suddenly, everything started to go black, sending a pain that crawled down his spine.
Before he opening his eyes, he heard one last thing.
"What the hell am I writing...?"
A young man in his early twenties shot straight up from his bed, throwing the mangled sheets off of his body, sweating. "What...The hell? It's that dream again...What does it-" The ringing of the bland, white phone beside his bland, white bed stabbed into his skull, and with a groan the man snatched the receiver. He moaned, not particularly happy by the recent chain of events. "Hello? Who is th-" "Help...Me..." a soft voice interrupted, sounding pitiful. This shocked the man, sending more feeling coursing down his spine, but instead of pain it was a sharp chill. "What? Hello? Hello!" Staring, he lifted the phone to see why there was no answer, maybe he had unplugged it on accident when he answered it? "What the...! The line's been cut..." He sighed, rubbing his temples. Things've been so odd, recently. He thought to himself. I move in and try to settle in and this shit happens...With another loud sigh he pushed himself off of the bed, looking around. Apparently he had fallen asleep in his regular clothes, a messy looking, white, button-up shirt with a small breast pocket, and a pair of jeans. after stretching, he made his way into the living/dining area, the room being the exact same as the dream, minus the blood and rust.
"Five days ago...Five long days...I've been having that nightmare, and I've been trapped in my apartment since then." He slumped into a small brown chair, staring at the door as if it would magically drop the bloody, rusty chains that sealed it shut. "The phone doesn't work, the TV doesn't work, I can't even get anyone to hear me when I yell. My whole world has gone insane." Shaking his head, he got up and slammed a fist against two shut windows that over-look the busy street outside, and no-one getting in or out of the subway station in the bare lot paid him attention. He then glared at the door, rage swelling inside of him. "The windows are sealed, and someone's chained my door from the ins-" Stopping mid-sentance, letting his mouth hang open, he watch letter form on the door, as if a ghost was writing them in blood. Don't...Go...Out...it read, a signature by someone named Walter formed under it. "What the hell's going on here!" Just as he finished yelling, something fell outside the door. Rushing over to it, the man peered out the peep-hole. What he saw was nothing really special, just a woman with short, dirty-blonde hair bending over to pick up a bag of groceries that she had dropped. "Eileen Galvin, from next door." He remarked, watching carefully. "Oh man...Hope my luck changes before the party." Eileen muttered, walking away with her things. Just as the man heard her shut the door to her apartment, a crash that sounded awefully like cements and metal falling onto a tile floor came from the bathroom in his own apartment. "What was that?"
Half jogging down the narrow hall, he turned to his left in the middle of it, opening the pale grey door in front of him. He gave a silent gasp and stared at what was there, or rather, what wasn't there. A small hole, big enough for someone to squeeze through, sat in the middle of the bathroom, wedged between the toilet and sink. Piping stuck it's way out here and there, making the front of it look almost like a maze. "What the hell! Is...is someone there?" He questioned, his voice echoing inside the hole. Standing there, half expecting an answer, he pulled a rusted old pipe that was dead in the center of the hole, placing it down across the sink. "I wonder...Maybe I can get out this way!" His voice rang in false hope, but in the back of his mind there was a voice that argued that he only thought that because he'd been locked inside too long and it's starting to get to him. With a sigh, he ignored that voice, coming with the conclusion that he'd either die trying to get to freedom or die in the apartment, locked up like a mad man. Pulling himself into it, he pushed and crawled his way through.
Descending (Subway)
When he saw light again, he was sitting on an escalator in what appeared to be the subway outside of his window. "What...What the hell's going on!" He screamed, his voice ringing through the empty station...
Mom's gone to Heaven now,
Why won't she come back down?
Does she have someone she loves more than me?
I thought I could love you better, we were always together.
If we took some time apart, you would finally know my heart.
I'm here and waiting for you,
Where are you? I can't find you.
I'm here and waiting for you,
I'll wait forever for you.
I fell in love with you and now you're gone...
There's nothing left within my lonely room, without you...
I'm here and waiting for you,
Where are you? I can't find you.
I'm here and waiting for you.
I'll wait forever for you
I'm here, I'm waiting for you,
Where are you? I can't, I can't find you!
I'm waiting for you...
Where are you? Where are you!