CHAPTER 1, THE DREAM
It was cold, tonight. No-one knew why, but it is just so cold. It was the beginning of the summer and it had to be five below outside. It was snowing. I mean, snow, in summer!? Hah! Talk about a change of fortune. Normally the weather is so nice this time of year. But not recently. A lot of things have changed recently. I'm beginning to believe that no-one except me notices. The school is becoming more and more empty by the day. The children are getting sick and some of them.
I know something's wrong as I stand here. I know as I look out of the window that the children playing on the road, the dog in the yard, the birds in the trees, they will all be gone soon, and then, Nowhere. I see it, sometimes. A flash of rusted gratings, rotting bodies, blood, pain and then, just as it starts to make sense, its gone. I went to see that fortune teller, the Gillespie woman. She knows something, I know she does. She just tells me that the angel is coming, and she gave me a piece of paper that makes no sense, covered with symbols and writing, and nothing more. Rumor has it she's crazy anyway. They say her kid died in a fire a few weeks back and ever since then she's been gone.
I lay awake at nights sometimes, partly because I am trying to make sense of what she said, and partly because the visions get more vivid while I sleep. Eventually, however, I fall asleep, and then I am in there world. There is no escape from it. I cannot wake up. The doctor said it was a nightmare, that's all. But in a nightmare, you wake up when the monster gets you. I don't. I can feel it on top of me, pinning me to the cold metal grated floor. Ripping me. Tearing me. I do not die, rather I move away from the scene, a helpless spirit, doomed to watch my human form being devoured by the beasts that haunt my dreams. They roll my flesh between there gums and continue to devour until I am nothing but a brown, rotted corpse on the metal floor. Unseen creatures savoring every drop of my blood that falls between the metal rods. Then, they leave. I will be all alone then. Sometimes for a few minutes, sometimes for a few hours, until I wake up. I remember everything. No matter how hard I try to forget, I remember. Sometimes I dream I am one of them. This is the easy dream. In this dream, I am a monster myself. I am wearing the nurse uniform I wear to work every day, and it is covered with blood. My blood. I have no face, but I know that the creature is me. I know this because I am not scared. I cannot be scared of monsters if I am one. I'm not scared in this dream. This is my refuge. But then he comes. My executioner. A man. He brings down a weapon into my head with such fury. My blood spills to the floor. I want to yell at him to stop, but I cannot. I have done nothing to him, yet he kills me with such brutality. I sometimes wonder if I will ever meet this man. I will try and ask him what I have done. I don't want him to kill me. I am happy like that. But he does. And then, unlike my other dream, I awaken. Alone and scared. I hate him for doing that. I spend each waking hour knowing that soon, I will have to sleep. And with sleep comes the other place. The nightmare world. I don't know how to stop it, but I want to get away from here. I want to be free from the nightmares. I want to be free from this town, free from Silent Hill. But no one will ever be free of this town. Not me, alone and afraid. Not the children outside, playing in the snow. Not the birds nesting in the trees. Not the old dog sleeping on the lawn. Not the man from my dreams. Especially not him. I'll make sure of it.
The paper makes sense now. The symbols and writing. This is the way. This is the way to punish the man from my dreams. I can feel the cold metal of the knife gliding gracefully through another fingertip. I would normally be scared, but I don't care anymore. The fears I have are gone. I know who the angel is. He is Samael. He is my savior. He will let me become what I am in my dreams. He will make me into what I am afraid of, then there will be no need to be afraid. Then I will stop that man. He has taken my dreams away. I can never forgive him for that. As I slide the crimson tide flowing from my mutilated finger across the brown, stained wall, I see that I have finished the symbol now. As I stand, I look out of my window again. I see things as they should be. The children, they have been changed into what I shall become. They are no longer weak. There fear of pain has left them. This has made them strong. The birds in the trees, they are as they should be now. Larger, reptilian-like in appearance, mouth glistening with yellowed fangs. There is no need for beauty in the real world. They are strong now. The old dog on the lawn is looking at me. I see him as he really is too. Soon, I will be like that. Then the siren will stop.
I have to go now. I have to Dream.
It was cold, tonight. No-one knew why, but it is just so cold. It was the beginning of the summer and it had to be five below outside. It was snowing. I mean, snow, in summer!? Hah! Talk about a change of fortune. Normally the weather is so nice this time of year. But not recently. A lot of things have changed recently. I'm beginning to believe that no-one except me notices. The school is becoming more and more empty by the day. The children are getting sick and some of them.
I know something's wrong as I stand here. I know as I look out of the window that the children playing on the road, the dog in the yard, the birds in the trees, they will all be gone soon, and then, Nowhere. I see it, sometimes. A flash of rusted gratings, rotting bodies, blood, pain and then, just as it starts to make sense, its gone. I went to see that fortune teller, the Gillespie woman. She knows something, I know she does. She just tells me that the angel is coming, and she gave me a piece of paper that makes no sense, covered with symbols and writing, and nothing more. Rumor has it she's crazy anyway. They say her kid died in a fire a few weeks back and ever since then she's been gone.
I lay awake at nights sometimes, partly because I am trying to make sense of what she said, and partly because the visions get more vivid while I sleep. Eventually, however, I fall asleep, and then I am in there world. There is no escape from it. I cannot wake up. The doctor said it was a nightmare, that's all. But in a nightmare, you wake up when the monster gets you. I don't. I can feel it on top of me, pinning me to the cold metal grated floor. Ripping me. Tearing me. I do not die, rather I move away from the scene, a helpless spirit, doomed to watch my human form being devoured by the beasts that haunt my dreams. They roll my flesh between there gums and continue to devour until I am nothing but a brown, rotted corpse on the metal floor. Unseen creatures savoring every drop of my blood that falls between the metal rods. Then, they leave. I will be all alone then. Sometimes for a few minutes, sometimes for a few hours, until I wake up. I remember everything. No matter how hard I try to forget, I remember. Sometimes I dream I am one of them. This is the easy dream. In this dream, I am a monster myself. I am wearing the nurse uniform I wear to work every day, and it is covered with blood. My blood. I have no face, but I know that the creature is me. I know this because I am not scared. I cannot be scared of monsters if I am one. I'm not scared in this dream. This is my refuge. But then he comes. My executioner. A man. He brings down a weapon into my head with such fury. My blood spills to the floor. I want to yell at him to stop, but I cannot. I have done nothing to him, yet he kills me with such brutality. I sometimes wonder if I will ever meet this man. I will try and ask him what I have done. I don't want him to kill me. I am happy like that. But he does. And then, unlike my other dream, I awaken. Alone and scared. I hate him for doing that. I spend each waking hour knowing that soon, I will have to sleep. And with sleep comes the other place. The nightmare world. I don't know how to stop it, but I want to get away from here. I want to be free from the nightmares. I want to be free from this town, free from Silent Hill. But no one will ever be free of this town. Not me, alone and afraid. Not the children outside, playing in the snow. Not the birds nesting in the trees. Not the old dog sleeping on the lawn. Not the man from my dreams. Especially not him. I'll make sure of it.
The paper makes sense now. The symbols and writing. This is the way. This is the way to punish the man from my dreams. I can feel the cold metal of the knife gliding gracefully through another fingertip. I would normally be scared, but I don't care anymore. The fears I have are gone. I know who the angel is. He is Samael. He is my savior. He will let me become what I am in my dreams. He will make me into what I am afraid of, then there will be no need to be afraid. Then I will stop that man. He has taken my dreams away. I can never forgive him for that. As I slide the crimson tide flowing from my mutilated finger across the brown, stained wall, I see that I have finished the symbol now. As I stand, I look out of my window again. I see things as they should be. The children, they have been changed into what I shall become. They are no longer weak. There fear of pain has left them. This has made them strong. The birds in the trees, they are as they should be now. Larger, reptilian-like in appearance, mouth glistening with yellowed fangs. There is no need for beauty in the real world. They are strong now. The old dog on the lawn is looking at me. I see him as he really is too. Soon, I will be like that. Then the siren will stop.
I have to go now. I have to Dream.