Author Note: I edited the ending. Not much has changed overall though.

When he first opened his eyes, all he saw was fog looming all around him. "Where am I?" he grunted, scratching his head, tussling his gray locks. He stepped forward and realized that he was standing in the middle of a street, but he wasn't worried about traffic since it was dead quiet.

Having no memory what so ever of being here he just wondered aimlessly through the mist. He had tried to enter some of the nearby buildings but the doors were all locked tight and there were some points where he had met face to face with a big gaping hole in the street, blocking his possible escape.

"Hello!" he called out, hoping to find someone in this town. "Can anyone help me? Hello?"

Then, a shadow appeared idle in the mist in front of him. Relieved to find another human being he quickly made his way over to the figure. While approaching, he saw the person's appearance becoming more vividly to him. He was average and about his height with blond hair. He wore blue-jeans and black boots. But he paid more attention to the man's green jacket, whom he remembered seeing a lot 5 years ago before his son disappeared.

"James?" he whispered to the figure who stood with his back facing him. "James," he called again but the figure did not respond. With each step he took to the figure, he heard a static noise growing louder and louder as he got closer. He wondered where it was coming but all that really mattered to him was his son.

He reached his hand out slowly to the man. "James," he spoke again. Then the man's head twitched for a split second, his neck making a cracking noise. An air-raid siren blaring over the static. Black veins begun to appear on the ground and buildings. The skies suddenly turning black, looking like someone had poured black ink into some water. In a minute, everything had gone pitch black.

"Dad…"

----

"Mr. Sunderland?" someone had whispered softly. Henry Townshend gently shook the old man's shoulder, pulling him out of his dream state.

Frank blinked at the day light flooding into Henry's car from all around. He felt groggy from his sleep, but he still heard a faint static noise that slowly faded from his ears. He muttered something that Henry couldn't make out, then he briefly cleared his throat before speaking to the brunette. "W-what is it Henry? Are we there yet?"

The brunette gave him a slight nod and looked out his windshield. They had arrived at the area overlooking Silent Hill's forest and Toluca lake. The two men slowly exited the vehicle and looked at the lake in marvel. "What a nice view," Henry thought out loud, his body aching to get his camera and take a picture. But they weren't here to sight-see.

These past months, Frank had been having strange dreams about his son James. He didn't know why he started having them suddenly. He believed that he disappeared in Silent Hill and he was told by his old friend Douglas, who went searching for him, that he was nowhere to be found. And so that was what he believed until the dreams came. Maybe there was more to his disappearance?

So he decided to go to Silent Hill and look for his son. But the fact that he had never been to Silent Hill is where Henry's purpose lies. He knew he's been there before and the photos that used to hang in his old apartment is proof. Also, Henry owed him after the police had discovered Walter's body in his apartment. The police took Henry in under the suspicion that he committed murder and Frank along with Eileen defended him and managed to get him out of trouble.

"Mr. Sunderland," Henry turned to Frank whose attention was brought on a blue car parked beside his. "What's a matter?"

"This is his car," he muttered. Before Henry could asked, he looked up to his confused friend. "This is my son's car."

The vehicle looked like it had been left untouched for years, even the car door is still wide open. The interior was covered in dust and bugs were crawling inside, making it their home. "So he must've been here."

"There's no doubt about it," Frank replied, his voice sounding far away. He leaned over the barrier, looking out to the lake once more. He spotted the town beyond the forest. "We'll find my son."

They entered the woods. As the two men walked along the path, fog had quickly rolled in and took it's place around them immediately, obscuring the oncoming path ahead of them and so they continued slowly. Henry, being the most cautious because of his experience in the woods surrounding Wish House. In fact, these could be the very same woods. Shivers ran down his spine at the very thought.

The men continued in silence until they came across a gate which soon led them to a cemetery. Tombstones were in front of them. Henry didn't recognize this area, but his eye for beauty had compelled him to admire the tombstones lined up in the ground and the mist around it gave it an eerie look. He walked forward, but he immediately noticed that his footsteps are the only ones heard. "Mr. Sunderland?" he said, slowly turning around.

Frank had stood there, his eyes were dazed in reality. But when he stepped into the cemetery, a flashback had begun to play in his mind. He saw James, alive and well, arriving in the cemetery himself. He walked in the direction of the tombstones, but through the fog he noticed a young woman kneeling down and viewing one of the them.

Thinking to himself that she might live around here, he walked up to the woman. "Excuse me, I…" he began but was cut short when she let out a startled cry, quickly turning to face James who appeared to be just as surprised. He held up his hands indicating to her that he means no harm.

She looked at James and reluctantly spoke. "I, I'm sorry…I, I…I was just…"

"No, it's okay. I didn't mean to scare you," he gently assured her in an attempt to calm her. "I'm kind of lost."

The woman blinked and tilted her head in confusion. "Lost?"

"Yeah, I'm looking for Silent Hill." James felt a little embarrassed. Then he lifted his arm, pointing at the other end of the cemetery. "Is this the right way?"

"Um, yeah," she responded slowly, not so sure herself if it was the right way either. "It's hard to see with this fog, but there's only the one road. You can't miss it."

"Thanks," James briefly said, turning and begun walking towards the road leading into Silent Hill.

"But," the woman began.

James stopped and turned towards her. "Yes…?"

"I think you'd better stay away," she said, nodding at the suggestion. They both stood in silence, James was unsure of what she had said. "This uh… this town… there's something…"wrong" with it. It's kind of hard to explain, but.."

"Is it dangerous?" James asked, raising a brow.

"Maybe…" the woman said, then looking around at the fog. "And it's not just the fog either…It's…" But James raised a hand to stop her.

"Okay I got it. I'll be careful," he assured her and was about to turn and leave for the town once more.

"I'm not lying!" the woman spoke, almost sounding like a child.

James turned to her again. "No, I believe you. It's just…I guess I really don't care if it's dangerous or not. I'm going to town either way."

"But why?"

James paused, unsure if he should tell a stranger why he's here. "I'm looking for…someone."

"Who, who, who is it?"

"Someone…very important to me," James answered, his heart sank at the thought of his wife. "I'd do anything if I could be with her again."

"Me too," she said, looking at the tombstones. "I'm looking for my mama," James didn't see her reply coming, then she shook her head. "I-I mean my mother." He looked at her suspiciously, furrowing his brow. "It's been so long since I've seen her." She walked over to a tombstone, placing a hand on it as she continued. "I thought my father and brother were here, but I can't find them either…I'm sorry…It's not your problem."

"No, I… I hope you find them."

"Yeah, you too." And with those words, James walked away and continued to the path onto Silent Hill to find Mary.

-----

Frank stood there motionless, his glazed eyes wide open. Henry was reluctant to walk over to him, but he had to make sure he was alright. "Mr. Sunderland?" he said his name again, slowly waving his hand in front of his face.

He begun to blink as the flash back ended. He looked at Henry with an astonishment. "James was here too," he said,

Henry couldn't believe what he heard. "How did you know that?" he asked.

"I-I saw him," Frank stammered, pointing where Henry stood right now. "He was standing right where you are. He met a young lady here, then he left for the town," puzzled, he begun to stroke his chin while thinking. "What in the world would compel him to come here?"

Both men stood in the cemetery contemplating the situation. Frank looked back to what he just say and recalled James saying to that woman that he was looking for someone important. He tried to think who but the only person he could think of is Mary.

Mary. Thinking about her suddenly made Frank think of how depressed James had become when she became sick. He remembered once he went to the hospital with James to visit her. He had seen how much the disease had taken it's toll on her.

-----

"Mary, your husband is here to see you," the nurse had announced before looking back at the men standing outside. "Careful you two. She's seem to be more sensitive than before, so watch what you do." She warned before moving away from the door for them to enter.

Frank stood behind James who seemed tensed. James had decided before hand to buy a gift for Mary, a bouquet of flowers. They were yellow, her favorite color.

Before entering, James turned to face his father. "Dad, I think you'd better wait out here," he said.

"What? But why?" Frank asked.

"Well it's… I…" James tried to find the right words to say.

Frank shook his head and held his hand up to stop James. "It's alright, I understand son. I'll just wait out here okay?" James looked at him, the slowly nodded and looked over his shoulder at the door, holding Mary's gift closer to his chest. Is he afraid of Mary? "Well uh, if you need me I'll be right here."

James quietly nodded and turned to open the door. He slowly stepped through and closed it behind him. Frank leaned against the wall next to the door, shoving his hands into his pants pockets. He could hear his son's voice on the other side, muffled by the walls he strained his ears to listen carefully.

"Mary?"

"What do you want, James," he heard Mary's voice, using an angry, bitter tone he's never heard her use before, at least not at James.

"I, uh I brought you some flowers…"

"Flowers? I don't want any damn flowers. Just go home already!"

"Mary, what are you saying?"

"Look! I disgusting! I don't deserve flowers. Between the disease and the drugs, I look like a monster. Well, what are you looking at? Get the hell out of here! Leave me alone already! I'm no use to anyone. I'll be dead soon anyway. Maybe today, maybe tomorrow…It'd be easier if they'd just kill me. But I guess the hospital is making a nice profit off me, they want to keep me alive…Are you still here? I told you to go! Are you deaf?! Don't come back!"

The room became bone chillingly silent. Frank's stomach felt uneasy and he placed a had over his eyes, seeing James cringe in the room. He wanted to go in there and pull him out of that terrible situation but he didn't move.

Then he heard footsteps coming towards the door. Any second he expected James to walk out with a dreaded look. But then he stopped when he heard Mary crying out to him.

"James…wait…"she pleaded, the bitterness in her voice replaced with fear. "Please don't go… Stay with me. Don't leave me alone. I didn't mean what I said. Please James…Tell me I'll be okay. Tell me I'm not going to die. Help me…" she begged before breaking down into tears.

"Mary," James whispered softly. Frank heard his foot steps moving away from the door. "Mary, it's okay. It's okay. You'll be alright," James paused for a moment, then he muttered again. "You'll be alright…."

-----

"Mr. Sunderland," Henry said. Frank looked at Henry and blinked. "W-we should probably get going."

"Right," Frank nodded and both the men begun walking. Frank glanced over the tombstone to where the woman stood, then he turned facing forward.