The Beginning

"Alright everybody search the place and see if you can find any evidence leading to the kidnapping." Police scattered throughout the room strip searching the place apart. Bed mattress covers were flying and couches being ripped open. Every nook of the house had to be searched or they would fail. " Hey guys come check this out!" Three fourths of the team went into the location a fellow officer had given out. It appeared to be some sort of bedroom before it was torn apart. "What is it Simmons?" asked the police captain. "Look" said Simmons as he pointed down to a journal. The journal was ragged and had blood underneath its back cover, almost like the book was bleeding itself. Carefully, Simmons picked it up and took it to a bag and kept it for evidence.

Later that night in the evidence, CSI analyzed all of the evidence which included a broken picture with a lovely looking lady at a park with the supposed kidnappee, a selection of owned guns such as a 12 gauge shotgun, a colt .45, and a 35/35 rifle with a built in scope, mainly for hunting purposes, they thought, and the journal. Tests were taken on the journal to see if it had any clues to what had happened to the kidnappee. To no avail, they did not find any at all. Giving up for the day, the CSI left and would try again in the morning, but one stayed behind. It was a newcomer, her name was Kyla Huntington. For weeks, she tried to prove herself as a worthy CSI member but the others were angered and thought she was just in the way. She then went back into the evidence room and open the bag where the journal laid. She then opened it and began to read.

My name is Alex Walter Stephenson. I am 30 years old and live, well,lived in Toluca, West Virginia. I was born May 25, 1967 in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania and lived part of my childhood there. There are many important events on my life but I will only tell you a select few. Remember, these are for a purpose, do not forget any of them, or all your dreams will be lost in a little place I would like to call, Silent Hill

It was foggy that day. Sunny days always graced Toluca, West Virginia but this seemed odd to me. Before, I had read the newspaper on the weather article and it clearly stated " Dry Weather Till August." I know they sometimes lied, but I had a disturbing chill on the back of my neck. Every time I tried to shake it off, but it seemed to go deeper into the corner of my feeble mind. This truly frightened me.

Today was Thursday. It was a typical day, going to work and back to home was the usual routine 24/7. I've gotten to the point to where I do job in a constant state of being. Of course, I was careful and thought of others, but at Cubical 402 I didn't care about my outside world or anyone in it, until lunch break. The usual time I woke up was around 7:00 am, typical time for work at a Department Services office. A cup of coffee and warm shower always eased my pain of laziness and bed head. It was funny, when my wife, Elise, was usually around she called me stupid names to make me wake me up, that always made her laugh. It was stupid, but I laughed as well too. I shook my head of past memories and walked myself to the refrigerator. Heh. Nothing. I had forgotten to get groceries again. My stupidity had gotten to the best of me this morning. I turned my head to the clock while holding my refrigerator door and realized it was already 7:45 am. I was almost late for work.

I didn't think of anything from the front door to the car. I was so thoughtless, that the door lock had gently grazed my mind. I grabbed the keys from my left pocket and pressed the Unlock button. As quickly as I could, I jumped into the seat, turned the ignition and raced to work. It seemed like a thirty minute drive, but in reality it was actually five. Down the street a ways I noticed there had been a horrible street accident. Blood was everywhere. The police blocked my only way to work. Stopping at the yellow tape, the policeman, who was actually my high school friend and Toluca Police Captain, Danny Williams, approached my window.

"How you doing today Alex?" He stated.

"Fine, um, what's going on?" I replied.

"Well, where to start um, well, ok, some lunatic convicted of a homicide ran to the middle of the street. We had it under control, but the guy had a bomb on him. Tried to cool the guy down but he ran for it and we had to take him out. Poor thing." He said in sadness but as a form of relief.

"Wow, um, I would hate to ask but is there anyway I can get through here or do you know?"

"Well Alex, I know you work for the Services Office, but we can't intervene with anything on this block at all. I can tell you what I can do though. I can let you walk through but the car has to stay."

"Damnit...I'm about to be late..."

"I'm sorry, man, there's nothing I can do."

I backed up and parked on the side of an old bar that shut down a few years ago. I closed the door and ran for it. I knew it wasn't far but I was gonna be late and I couldn't afford another write up. I grabbed the yellow tape, went under it and ran past the accident scene. Taking a quick glance at the morbid body that lay on the concrete, I noticed that there was a small note in his hand. I knew it had no importance of what my objective was so I shook it out of my mind and ran towards the Department Services Office.

I had finally made it to the service desk and clocked into work and I ran to my cubical but it wasn't empty. My boss, Robert Gore, was in there sitting on the corner of my desk.

"Well, hey Rob—."

"Sit, Stephenson."

I immediately sat in my chair. I was ready to listen but not ready for the outcome of this discussion. He closed the cubical door and looked at me with an angry glare.

"How many fucking times does it have to be...huh!?"

"What do you mean, sir?" I knew exactly what he meant.

"You know damn well what I mean, Stephenson. Every time I come in here you are late. LATE!!" The last word he said startled me and he proceeded.

"Why does it have to be this way Alex."He sighed.

I could hear some emotion come out of this blackened heart I was talking to. Robert Gore was a humble at his home, but when he was at work he was as horrible as the devil himself. Probably because the death of his daughter had made him that way towards work. He was the strictest man in the world and there was not a damn person who could've stopped him.

"Look Rob I know your upset but can you hear me out for one second?" I pleaded.

"Okay shoot, we have the whole time in the world for bullshit. Spill it."

"I was late to work because of the accident at the corner of Fifth and J."

"What accident?"

"The accident that just happened today..."

"Hmm, I don't remember any accident in the newspaper."

I was stunned. How could've he not known that there was an accident. Our town was small and gossip spread like wildfire. How could've he not have known.

"Stephenson, clean our your office, you have one hour." Gore said with a final command.

In pity and sorrow I replied "Yes sir."

So much grief went through my mind. How could this have happened...I thought I was a good worker, I just slightly skimmed the clock-in time. That's all. Sometimes, I wish I were dead, with my wife Elise. God I miss her.

Liquor, was my only answer to despair. I looked for the closest bar I could find. A few minutes later, I had found it. It was one of those trashy, whore infested, horny guys only kinda deal. I didn't care. I don't think anyone else did either. I sat on a leather torn stool ,that was poorly spray painted red. I raised my hand signaling my demise. Heh, So-Co goes down pretty easy if you mix it with unemployment. Five hours later, I walked out of the bar tired and drunker than ever. Stumbling over to my car, I held out my hand and grabbed the chrome handle. I thought it took me an hour to get my keys out of my pocket. It was funny at the time, but if I knew what it would lead to I would've killed myself there and then.

The drive back to my house was longer than the one I took to work. Except this drive was different. The town was cursed with a heavy fog. The high beams were useless in this obstacle. I drove as careful as I could, being as drunk as I was. Thoughts were rushing into my mind. Where was I gonna find a job? How am I gonna pay bills? How am I gonna live like this? I stared at the clock and it was 2:45 am. I didn't really care, I didn't have a job to wake up to anyway. Staring back at the road, I continued my drive. Five minutes later, my eyes grew weary and I started to nod off and finally, I fell asleep. I awoke hours later in the middle of an abandoned highway. My vision was impaired at first but it grew into focus and my head ached from a gash in the side of my head. I screamed in pain huddled in a ball like a helpless child. It was so intense I blacked out.

I woke up another hour later and slowly stood up and viewed my surroundings. It seems I was on the side of a cliff and that my car crashed about a mile back. At once it shocked me, I couldn't have flown out the car that far. Someone must have moved me here. But why? A gray snowflake then, fell on my face. I rubbed it off and felt it through my fingers and stared at the ground. It wasn't fog, it was pure ash. I looked behind me and noticed that there were footsteps.

"I knew it, someone did move me here." I knew I had to find help and tend to my injuries, so I just started to walk. It was about a mile down I saw something through the gray-white mist. Going closer to it I found a sign with two dead light posts above it. It said.: Welcome to Silent Hill.