Disclaimer: I do not own Silent Hill or any of the characters. If I did, I'd put wierd makeup on Dhalia everyday... sigh

Notes: Okay, some of the lines might not be right, I can only write so fast people. I might change the title later. Sorry if some of the words are misspelled, I'll come back and fix it when I know how to spell them. And last but not least, this is what I get for listening to Linkin Park and Dido(which I don't own, if I might add) at the same time and playing SH.

Hope you enjoy!

WAIT! When you first see the beginning, don't just leave! It gets better towards the ending, I promise. I can't count the endless times I didn't read something because I didn't like the beginning and hated myself for it the next day! So.. go ahead.. read it.. you know you want to...

Secret Admirer

Chapter 1- Your Nightmare

Heather.

"Heather."

"What?"

"HEATHER!!"

"WHAT?!"

"Heather, Heather, Heather, Heather, Heather, Heather, Heather, Heather, Heather, Heather... Cheryl." The name drips like acid from my tongue, burning. Burning then desintigrating.

"SHUT. UP. I'm not your Cheryl!" She claims; she lies.

"Yes you are, Cheryl."

"For God's sake! I'm not Cheryl! Get it? NOT CHERYL!"

"Cheryl." I defy her and now she is angry.

"She's not Cheryl anymore!" He is a nuisance.

She recognizes him. Without a second thought, she runs to embrace him. "Dad... B-But you're .. Dead! I s-saw-- You can't be here!"

She is shoved away, the man was made only to reject her.

"Who are you?" He asks. She is shocked.

"Dad? I-I'm Heather, your daughter. Remember? How can you forget!?"

I can smell her tears and I laugh.

"You're not my daughter, you could be.. anyone!"

"Cheryl, Heather, Alessa, Cheryl, Heather, Alessa, Cheryl, Heather, Alessa... Cherrrrrryyyyyllll??" I summon mockingly.

I can taste her tears flowing and I laugh at her foolishness this time. She bleeds, I taste that also. She is a bleeding heart. So pathetic, so insane, and so beautiful.

I find myself wishing I could have her right here and now, just knock her to the body-infested ground and rape her amongst the dead things until she screams and begs me to stop. Ripping, ripping, bleed all your black blood and drown your heart in crimson.

So I do, and she fights me. She's a fighter.

But there is no fighting me. I am the darkness that consumes you at night, the fog that engulfs the town and hides the truth.

She dies again and again under me as all her nightmares and deaths play again and again in her glassy eyes. Just like watching one of my favorite horror movies.

I love her so much, I want to kill her.

So I do that task too. But she does not fight anymore as my fingers lace around her slack neck; she is broken inside and out. Just how it should be.

"The next time you sleep, this will happen all over again. And again, and again, and again," I tell her and place a kiss on her sweet forehead.

Alessa was too pure and smart.

Cheryl was too young and ignorant.

"You, my Dark Mother, will be perfect. Playing with you will be fun, like scaring little Cheryl into masked sleep-deprivation and malnutrution. Your nightmare is my dream."

And it is as if she can hear me.

"Heather, are you alright?" The detectives gruff voice fell on deaf ears. I didn't want to listen to him. I couldn't bear it if he saw me like this, curled up in a ball on a bench covered in God knows what, bawling my eyes out over some bad dream. I don't even know how I fell asleep!

Maybe time was catching up with me? How long had it been? An hour, a day, maybe two? Who could even tell with the constant switching of dimensions?

"Heather?!" He repeated, now worried. His hand gripped and shook my shoulders gently. A strangled sob escaped the confinement of my throat, and I became increasingly vexed at how unobediant my body had become. So much for ever feeling confidence again.

"What's the matter? Are you hurt?" He asked a hint of relief that I wasn't dead mingling in with his words. Worry was still wretchedly evident, though.

"No, I'm not hurt. It's nothing," Came my muffled reply finally, my voice shaky and unstable. I rose, stretching my sore body and quickly swiping at the tear streaks which had been skittering playfully down my deathly pale cheeks.

"You're sure?" He sounded undecisive and awkward.

"YES!!" We sighed in cadence, but our sighs were in no way the same. "Quit trying to be my Mother," I grumbled under my breath, walking in the direction of the Borely Haunted Mansion.

'Because I don't need a mom. I learned to live without one. I need a dad. I need MY dad.' The thought only brought fresh tears to scorch the skin around my eyes.

I hated this place so much.

"Welcome to the Borely Haunted Mansion! We're so glad you came! Please, come inside and take a look around. When you feel you're ready, then go through the door."

There was a metallic 'clank' as the door automatically unlocked itself. I hurriedly walked through, Douglas following stiffly. I was already agitated, that stupid voice wasn't exactly what you'd call 'helping' either.

"Help... Help..." The Voice cackled obscenely. "Do you hear those voices? A family of four was sliced into bloody pieces. Ah, the cries of the children. The murderer was caught. Do you know why he said he killed his family? 'Because I felt I had to!'"

There was an unwelcome impending silence. All of this was quite inane and comical.

"Anyway, I'm lying. It's just a joke. I wanted to scare you, that's all," It dawdled on. "The truth is, only one person died... by SUICIDE!"

A loud 'BOOM' resided, followed by a phospherescent blaze of lightning as he screamed out the word, almost maniacally. I observed out of the corner of my eye, the outline of a hanging man against the curtains. Not at all intimidating. A second 'clank' echoed through the room, so we followed lead.

There was no immediate voice this time, nothing but a low, rumbling creak and the repitition of our thudding footsteps. Thinking it was nothing, I traversed the room to the next door. There was no mention of the azure door behind me, one that was locked anyway. Boy, was it nothing! I reached for the rusty doorknob, and a body catapulted from the ceiling, along with its rank stench. The blare of my handgun rang through the Study-like room. One would expect jagged shards of shattered plastic or or tufts of fluffy cotton to fly out, but neither did. Coagulated blood spattered the uselss and, most likely, locked door.

"Jesus Christ, he's real! I don't think this was supposed to be one of the attractions," I exclaimed, utterly horrified and disgusted. Douglas simply nodded his head solemnly in agreement.

"That's Danny. A quiet young man, but quite friendly as you can see. He was so eager to meet you. His hometown is New Orleans, but he first came here after losing his way. Oh, maybe you might know. Where is the path to Heaven?" Its cold and surprisingly calm voice interrogated.

I raised my middle finger to the Heavens. "Right here, Buddy!"

A grim chortle resonated from Douglas.

The familiar 'clank' sounded off, as if in answer, as if in acceptance to the insulting challenge. We moved cautiously towards the blue door and slowly readied ourselves to sink into the next unknown hellhole.

"This mansion is quite old," The Voice greeted us once again, none too kindly,"so please watch your step. Sometimes the floor gives way, and beneath the floor is nothing..."

"How welcoming..!" I said sarcastically, walking leisurely on ahead among the blood-covered bars and rotting furniture, paying no heed to the treacherous spikes above... Then the ceiling fell, literally.

"Hit the deck!" I warned, lurching backwards and down. As did Doug.

One of the sharp projections slipped from its socket, impaling the floorboards I had been crouching on a few seconds earlier.

"I'm so sorry, this place is just falling apart. The mechanism is broken, you see. It wasn't meant to stop there, I assure you," It 'apologized', if you can even call it that.

Cautiously creeping towards the next door, The Voice caught us near the exit and began blabbering on again.

"There's the ex-" I was tired of this guy's impudence and stupidity, so I didn't stop to listen. Only bad things happened when I did.

"Ah, that was supposed to be the exit, but no one wants you to leave!"

"Damnit! I should have let him finish his last speech!" I cursed and scolded myself.

"This place is crazy!" Douglas called out, his annoyance so high up on the scale it was almost reaching the point of anger. Good thing he was patient.

A sudden bolt of heat licked at my back, I was certain Douglas felt it too, seeing the sweat beading on his creased brows. It was a cold heat though, the air around it was.. evil. I took the hint we were supposed to run now.

"Everyone really likes you, they want you to stay with them.. forever," The Voice continued bitterly.

"COME ON!" I screeched in Douglas' direction. We ran through the halls like maze rats. We wound, scrambled and slid in every direction, not knowing where we were heading, only knowing that the walls growing red with light and heat wasn't a particularly good thing. The very paint was melting behind our fleeing figures. We finally reached a door and slipped through swiftly.

"I have to agree with them."

"DON'T YOU EVER JUST SHUT UP??!!" I yelled at the walls.

I was getting tired, and the middle-aged detective had moved in front of me. The ice cold heat sprang onto my back.

"Aaarrrgh!" I protested loudly.

"Don't be afraid. Dying is much easier than living."

"Like HELL I'm going to die today!" I replied, knowing The Voice couldn't hear my answer.

With a fiery pain knawing at my left leg, I limped up a small flight of stairs and flew through the doorway behind Douglas. After exchanging a few ferociously witty and unlady-like remarks with the door, I turned to my partner who was, in turn, jeering unhappily at two closers. He scrambled to grab the gun that had just slipped from his damp grasp.

I had no bullets left thanks to the hanging man incident, so I equipped Maul.

A sudden blinding pain beginning in the back of my head and traveling upwards siezed my aching body.

"Gah!" I rasped out, falling to my knees. It turns out, my hands weren't all that dry either. A second pain enveloped my right arm as the weapon I was wielding grazed it and tore the flesh there.

"AAAHHH--SHIT!!" I moaned, too weak to do anything now. I was paralyzed to the spot, clutching my head, by pain. Now, taking notice of our prescence, the colassal closers lumbered towards us.

Try as he may, Douglas couldn't keep his resolve and fight off both monsters. As he battled one, the other slipped through his defense. Its limbs flailing threateningly, massive mouthed arms began to pummel me.

"D-Doug...la...ssssssssss..." My throat had gone dry and was unconcievably swollen. I felt blood trickling from my busted lip and nose, from my shredded arm, and the tingling sensation in my burnt leg. Other than that, I felt numb.

"Heather? Heather?! HEATHER!!" I heard the man call frantically as the darkness took me in its rugged and deadly jaws, feeling the same cold heat as in the Borely Haunted Mansion. Hearing nothing but silence, I shut my eyes, and relished the feeling. It felt.. like floating on water.

Weightless.

Drifting.

Away.

If only I could stay this way forever...

"Heather." It sounded as if someone was standing right next to me, whispering in my ear.

"What?" I answered quietly, annoyed that someone was tearing the wonderful feeling apart as if it were pointless and less than efficient.

"HEATHER!!"

I've been drinking Mellow Yellow(which I don't own) for the past hour and a half. I can't feel my fingers, and my hands and eyes are twitching. I hope you liked it, 'cause if you didn't, I'll have to kick your ass for making me through this.

Please Review! I love constructive criticism, new ideas, and friendly people I can talk to!

Places cookie on 'Go' button. Alright..

GO!!