Author's Introduction

To call this a novelization of Silent Hill 2 would probably be inaccurate. It was my original intent to novelize it but lack of access to a PS2, limited internet time, notes that weren't as thorough as I'd hoped, and the irresistible need to add my own spin to it have resulted in something that differs from the game(and possibly from what the creators of the game intended, and certainly from some of the interpretations of the plot that I've heard). Some things I changed simply for the sake of realism(obviously James couldn't possibly drag around a board, a pipe, a shotgun, a rifle, five medical kits, ten health drinks, 4 boxes of bullets for each gun, and Pyramid Head's knife all at once), some for just for simplicity's sake(a couple puzzles have been--or will be, depending on when you read this-removed, although I've kept some, and distances have been compressed in many cases), and some things I just made up. The characters and story line are pretty much the same, though I've altered a few things about some of the characters. Also this story sort of ignores the fact that there are(as of this writing) two sequels to the game. And some of the first Silent Hill game is in here as well, again with dialogue and a few things I just plain made up.

Finally(as I've not got my actual game to reference) I've no doubt some locations and names of various streets, objects, persons, stores, etc. wrong and any corrections on that score are welcome(and probably appreciated). Of course, reviews and criticisms are always welcome.

Now, of course, all the legal rights and whatnot relating to this game are Konami's and not mine in any legal sense(and in most other senses as well).

Let's begin, shall we?

Prologue: The Demise of Nowhere

I had little to do with the events that lead up to my death. It was too late by the time I was able to deal with the situation myself. It was unfair and cruel; especially for one such as me. But I am not bitter. There is no bitterness in death. Only silence and rest. But I do remember the day quite well…

The halves were joined and the time was nigh. Dahlia stood laughing; Cybil lay prone on the floor winded; Harry stood still, not knowing what to do. I could feel the Rebirth approaching.

Another shot rang out, coming from the stairs. Dahlia was unfazed but so was the gunman.

"You used me," said Dr. Kaufman in a low voice, "you broke our deal." Dahlia laughed at him, "What do I care for your petty deals? Samael shall rise again and my daughter shall be the holy mother of the new God! Your part in this is finished, you are no longer needed."

"We'll see about that." Growled Kaufman as he reached inside his coat.

"What can you possibly hope to do?" Dahlia seemed arrogantly amused. Kaufman said nothing as he pulled out a glass vial with a red liquid swirling inside it.

Dahlia hissed, "Aglophaitis! I thought I got rid of that!"

Kaufman smirked, "Do you think I'm stupid? I always made sure I had some tucked away, in case things got out of hand. Like I said: no one uses me." He smirked again and said, "Here's my offering for your new God." And with that he threw the vial at the form of Alessa.

Ha! The idiot doctor thought only in terms of diseases and cures. But the Touch of Samael is no disease, it is divine energy possessing a host. Aglophaitis simply forces the energy out of the host just as it was forced out of Cybil in the amusement park. But what would happen if instead of containing the energy of Samael, the host contained Samael himself?

The husk of Alessa's body began to pulse with energy. Her back split apart and something began to emerge.

"What!" Said Kaufman, "That's not supposed to happen!" Dahlia started laughing an evil cackle that seemed to echo around the chamber. "It's-" Kaufman was about to say but a shock wave burst from Alessa knocking everyone except Dahlia to the ground.

Alessa was gone. In her place a large horned, scaly beast stood up and flexed a pair of bat-like wings and roared in triumph. Why shouldn't I triumph, after all, I was Samael and I was free from the shackles of that human host. Free after all these years. The air around me sizzled and cracked with energy and I could feel the rhythmic pulse of power flow through my body

Dahlia cackled, "It seems Doctor Kaufman that you have failed after all. The new God has arisen! Now I shall be exalted above all others!" I snorted with contempt, turned to her and with a bolt of red lightning from my burning eyes, I turned her heart to ash inside her chest. It is never a servant's place to decide who is exalted and who is not.

I turned to the figure of Cybil lying on the ground still dazed. She had been Touched by my presence before and it seemed she should be the next to feel my power. But then I felt a small sting in my left wing. I paused and angled it to look. There was a small hole in the membrane and a little trickle of dark blood was oozing out. I had been shot! Either by Harry or the doctor; but most disconcerting was that the rhythmic pulsing I felt in my body was not that of Divine Power, but rather the beating of a heart which pumped blood that carried vital oxygen to my brain and extremities which was all that stood between me and Death. Kaufman had been unwittingly successful in thwarting Dahlia. For while all the Powers of a Dark God were at my command, my body was composed of mere flesh, blood, and bone. I bellowed with rage and turned.

Kaufman lay on the floor still dazed. But Harry stood, the barrel of his gun pointed at me. When he was at the diner earlier today, his hand was unsteady, his grip unsure and his aim untested. But now he had faced more horrors in one day than most men see in a lifetime, and while his aim was not perfect, he had a steady hand and could shoot without hesitation. I sent a jagged bolt of energy towards Harry, intending to match his fate to Dahlia's. But it seemed it didn't move as fast as it had with Dahlia. It was not slow mind you, but not fast enough to hit Harry before he ran out of the way and the bolt sizzled on empty floor. He fired twice, one bullet struck me in the leg and the other ricocheted off one of my horns. My leg stung and bled, but the pain was of no moment and my movement unhindered.

My body may have been mortal, but it was far, far from being weak.

I stalked towards him and blew a breath of red fire at him. But the flames were too slow to engulf Harry and they barely managed to singe his hair. He returned fire, two shots again. One hit me in the shoulder, the other missed its mark as I twisted away from it. Again the bullet hole stung and bled, but I retained full use of my shoulder. Alas, my fire failed to hit him again but I did not despair for I had another plan.

Harry may or may not have realized it, but step by step, I was getting closer and closer to him. His twelve-shot gun wouldn't fire forever and the room was too small for him to retreat; another three steps and I wouldn't need lightning or fire, I would simply tear him apart with my bare hands. Harry fired at me again; one bullet hit my abdomen, but I barely felt it; the other bullet broke the skin on my chest but bounced off my sternum. I became emboldened by this, too emboldened it turned out.

Thinking my heart relatively protected, I growled and charged at the poor writer, claws extended. He stood his ground long enough to fire two shots and then fell over trying to duck under my murderous grip. I roared in triumph but it came out as just a loud gurgle as I felt my chest tighten. One bullet had been stopped by the thick bone of my ribs, but the other had gone between them and torn into what I now realized, to my horror, was my left lung.

Bad enough that one such as I should need a heart to pump my blood, but lungs with which to take in air? This was more than I could bear.

I slumped to my knees trying to regain the breath that seemed to just elude me. Harry sat up from the floor and emptied his clip into me. His aim was concentrated on my head but the first two bullets hit my neck, the rest ricochet off my skull, the thick bone refusing to crack. Nonetheless, my head rang with every shot and I fell to the floor. The wounds in my neck were gushing blood and the will to get up was quickly draining away. I managed to turn my head sideways and push my head up. I could see Cybil and Kaufman both sitting up, and a fourth person standing alone in the corner. I heard a clicking sound which I realized too late was Harry inserting a fresh clip into his gun. I turned towards him just in time to see the barrel of the gun pointed straight at my eye. I saw the flare, heard the blast then...nothing. My body went numb and I seemed to float up off the ground, but as I floated up I looked below and saw my own corpse, lying there with dark blood flowing out of the mouth and nose.

Then my whole body started to glow and change into a whirling vortex of energy. From that vortex Alessa emerged, cradling an infant wrapped in a white bundle. Harry had put his gun away and took the baby when she offered it to him. Then she simply said, "Go." And the room began shake; the vortex turned into flames that curled around Alessa until she was no longer visible.

Kaufman was already heading up the stairs, Cybil and Harry followed after him; the fourth figure stayed behind, unconcerned about the flames that had begun to spread and the shaking of the room. I couldn't let the others get away. Not after what they had done to me.

I searched for some way to stop them from leaving Nowhere, called on all my powers to find some way to stop them. But it seemed like I was powerless to stop them. Until, somewhere in Nowhere, a lone nurse, still in the thrall of my Touch answered my call.

Kill Harry, was the thought I sent to her, but the figure in the room shook his head.

Kill Cybil. But again the figure shook his head.

Kaufman? The figure didn't respond, and I sensed a small triumph. Kill Kaufman, the order reached out beyond floors and walls to the nurse. With that name burning in her mind she strode out of the room where Harry had last called her Lisa and into the main hallway.

The flames and shaking had started to take their toll and though the exit stairs remained intact, bits of the ceiling had fallen and Harry, Cybil, and the doctor were forced to run in single file. Kaufman was in the lead, his stride was longer and he was getting farther and farther ahead of the other two. A large chunk of the ceiling suddenly fell between them as they entered a hallway.

"Doctor!" Cybil called, "Give me a hand moving this!" Kaufman looked back and said, "Let Harry help you."

"He can't, he's got the baby."

"Well then you're out of luck, we don't have time to stop." And with that he ran to the stairs marked "Exit" at the end of the hall.

"Shit." Cybil muttered, and started pushing on the piece of ceiling, hoping that she could move it by herself. At first it seemed hopeless, but then she felt a little give and knew that she could get it. She gave one last push and it moved enough that she and Harry could get through.

Down the hall Kaufman had just about reached the stairs when a door behind him flung open, and Lisa, her face like wax and her eyes like the flames all around her, emerged. Kaufman looked at her, screamed and ran faster towards the stairs.

But he only made it five steps.

Lisa dragged him into the burning room from which she had emerged and slammed the door behind her. Cybil and Harry got to the door and tried to open it, but it was jammed shut and this time Cybil didn't think she could break it down. So they ran up the stairs, trying to ignore Kaufman's screams as Lisa prepared him for his final resting place alongside the bones of his fallen colleagues.

Somewhat mollified, I turned to the figure in the corner. "The Flauros, Metatron, it was the Flauros was it not?" Metatron said nothing. "The Flauros would not allow me to kill Harry." Metatron still said nothing, but coming from him, silence was as good as an affirmation. Undoubtedly Metatron would know when the Flauros was used and he would wonder why it had been suddenly awakened after all these years of silence.

"It does not matter, Samael." He said in his flat, expressionless voice, "You have been slain."

"So, have you then come here to rob me of my powers and escort me to Hell?" I tried to hide the despair I was feeling; deprived of my powers, I would be defenseless in Hell and despite his own origins, Lucifer does not look kindly on former angels, even one such as myself.

"No. You know us better than that, Samael." Metatron said, his voice still expressionless, "Your past services have not been forgotten. Rather, you shall be imprisoned here for eternity and stripped of your powers to harm the Righteous and the Innocent. When Nowhere is gone, you will become trapped in this town without form or substance. There is no more cult, no more seed, no more chance for another Rebirth. When I say eternity, I mean eternity." There was a slight edge to his voice in the last sentence and his gaze was hard. But I sensed one opportunity.

"What of the Damned?" I asked, "You did not say I would be completely stripped of my powers. May I still bring them to bear on those whose souls have been darkened?" Metatron said nothing, his face implacable.

"Then I can, can't I?" I said, with a faint trace of glee. Metatron ignored that comment and simply said, "I have pronounced your sentence. Now let it come to pass. I will be watching you." And with that he was gone.

The room shook, shuddered, burned and then everything disappeared in a swirl of smoke and flame.

And so it came to pass. Silent Hill sits and waits and I am one with the town. It calls to the guilty souls that have entered it before, but are still free to roam the earth and eat, shit, and die, while an immortal such as I is trapped here with only their torment as consolation. But I am not bitter. There is no bitterness in death. Only silence and rest.

But then of course, I'm not altogether dead...