A Parody to Konami's Silent Hill Series
By Davy De Vuysdere
Prologue
DISCLAIMER: I do not own Silent Hill. Silent Hill is property of Konami. Also, this is a parody, and the names are slightly altered, so basically you can't sue me. Ha ha ha. Anyway, don't sue me, please, I'm insane. Also, this one is dedicated to Mikoto. ;)
Garry Mayonaise yawned. He had been driving for hours, and his behind was sweaty
and numb. He looked at his daughter Cherry, who sat beside him. She was fast
asleep, and snoring rather loudly. Every now and again a drop of transparent
drool dripped onto her clothes. Garry grunted, and tried to think of ways to
get rid of her. Maybe he could try throwing her out of the moving car?
He had killed his wife a few years ago, as an act of sympathy. She was suffering
from SARS, regardless of the fact that the first cases of SARS only appeared
three years later. If he had known how much trouble it would be to raise a daughter
as a single parent, he would have reconsidered smothering his screaming wife
with a pillow. Now he realized he would have been better off setting the house
ablaze while they were both in it, but it was, of course, too late.
They were on their way to Noiseless Hill now, a quiet resort town in Wisconsin.
It was a very quiet town indeed, except for the occasional slaughtering of little
children, and the Satanic cults roaming around. A good place to bring your daughter
if, say, you'd ever want to get rid of her.
"Daddy?"
He turned his head and saw Cherry looking up at him with her big, brown, dog-like
eyes. He slapped her. "Don't talk to the driver, honey," he
muttered. "Go back to sleep, or hold your breath, or something."
God, he wished he had a pillow right now. After a few collisions between Garry's
hand and Cherry's head, she finally decided to go back to sleep.
A loud humming noise distracted Garry from his dreams about a childless life.
He looked out the window and saw a female police officer, wearing tight leather
pants, riding a motorcycle. She looked at him from behind her dark sunglasses.
He winked.
She blew him a kiss.
He made a rather vulgar gesture, implying a request for oral sex.
The female officer licked her lips. That was probably why she didn't see
the huge oil stain on the road. She started swerving, and crashed her motorcycle
on the side of the road.
"Tch. Women," grunted Garry. Of course he knew the appropriate thing
to do would be to pull over his car and help her, but only a complete idiot
would go help a police officer if his driver's license had expired long
ago. Then again, only a complete idiot would drive such a long distance with
an expired driver's license.
Because he was having this inner battle about morality, he didn't notice
the strange girl that was standing in the middle of the road in front of him.
When he noticed her, it was already too late to brake. Normally he would have
ran over her, but what he saw shocked him so much that he turned the wheel in
panic. As he drove his car off the road, down the hill and into darkness, he
knew that the memory of her burned skin and pink bikini would stay forever in
his mind.
He woke up with a major headache. With every ounce of strength in his body, he opened his right eye and took a peek at Cherry's seat. It was empty.
Immediately he jerked up his head and opened both his eyes. The windshield was still intact. There were no traces of blood. Dammit. He knew he shouldn't have allowed her to fasten that seatbelt. He tried to start the engine. No response. Fuck, now he'd have to walk home.
He got out of the car and was immediately engulfed in a thick fog. "Must've hit a smoke machine store or something," he muttered, as he limped away from the car wreck. A few minutes later he noticed his leg wasn't hurt. He seized the limping. As he walked through the deserted town, he made the bright observation that the town seemed deserted. Also, the fog was still there.
Fog? thought Garry. In November? Get real! He had always had some trouble keeping the four seasons, and the weather that came with them, apart. Then, through the fog, he could see the silhouette of a girl. She was putting one foot in front of the other, and slightly lifting up her skirt. "Rrr," uttered Garry. "Kinky."
"Daddy?" the girl said, turning her head at the sound of his voice.
"Oh shit!" screamed Garry, as he made a quick funky 90-degree turn and ran off into the mist.
After a few miles of running away from his daughter, Garry noticed he was
lost. He did however not notice the sign that read "Beware of the dog",
mainly because he was illiterate. A high-pitched bark reached his ears, and
when he turned around, he saw a rabid poodle, wild with fury, attacking him.
He quickly countered the threat by kicking the vicious quadruped against the
wall, where it was knocked unconscious.
Garry then saw a trail of blood leading in an alleyway, and, always curious
to see the suffering and – hopefully painful – death of his fellow
man, he decided to follow it. After a while, there was the sound of a car alarm.
As the sound of the beeps increased in volume, the world got darker, until Garry
finally screamed "Puh-LEASE, shut off your alarm!"
Two shorter beeps followed, and then complete silence, although the light did
not return. Even though Garry had been afraid of the dark since he was 2 years
old, our brave protagonist continued his perilous journey after a fart or two
and some inner pep talk. He lit a match, and soon he came across a broken wheelchair,
one of the wheels still squeakily turning. This is when it dawned on him.
"Wait a minute… now wait just one friggin' minute!"
he screamed, as he turned around. "You think you can make a fool out of
me? I can see what's going on here! This town has been taken over! It's
a conspiracy! And let me tell you something else, I'm on to
you! I know who's behind this! I… Ow!" He dropped his
match, and shook his finger around, because it seemed to be on fire.
He lit another match, and continued following the alley. Pretty soon he reached
a dead end, and also found the origin of the blood trail. There was a skinless
corpse hanging from the wall, in some kind of horrible mockery of the Crucifixion.
The ears and nose were cut off, and the eyes were taken out, and replaced with
Christmas lights, which were flickering merrily. What was worse, the corpse
seemed to be still alive, although Garry didn't notice that.
"Who does your hair?" asked Garry, referring to the plucks
of black fluff on the head of the thing that apparently used to be a man.
"Mmmmrrrrmmmmfff… help meeee…" spoke the mutulated Christmas
tree.
Garry screamed in a very girly manner, turned around, ran into a wall and knocked
himself out. As his mind plummeted into darkness, he realized he had wet himself.
So? What do you think? If you'd like to know who's REALLY behind
the Noiseless Hill conspiracy according to Garry, or if you just want to know
how it goes on, just drop me a review. No reviews, no more chapters. :p