Sharon, dear daughter, escape from the night, red and black drawings and the far lights. Your Silent Hill is mutely rattling void red-hot in the souls of mothers.
You and me will rush to fog, where the ash flows through the border of the worlds. Ghost town will set traps, forever wrapping a sheet of bad dreams.
Daughter, come back, the darkness is drinks all strengths. The Greys sticks and here somewhere a heavy sword thunders. There are crypts like graves. Only in these graves we will have to go.
The church is dark for Кristаbellа, the Grand hotel for Alessa, and you for me. Only ash is around, a sticky, white - and no night is now for us, and no a day.
Christopher is lonely waits for years, not seeing a light haze beyond the golden days. In a world of ghosts, justice can be cruel, just like in the human world.