A/N (skip all this to the bottom italicized text if you don't care): Took longer to write this than I expected it to, but here it is at last. The second andfinal part of the Sonic Hill series I'm writing is here. I strongly suggest you read my other fic, Sonic Hill 2: DX, ere read this, since this is pretty much a short prequel/subplot to it, and will contain huge spoilers and stuff to the main fic.

Disclaimer: While many of the things in this fic are mine, as a whole it and it's sequel are based off the Born From A Wish Subscenario in the Xbox and Greatest Hits Playstation 2 version of Silent Hill 2: Restless Dreams, created by Konami. This is basically my novelization of the series with Sonic characters, add ins, tie ins, and references. All Sonic-related characters are copyright of Sonic Team.

Warning: This fic contains some slightly sexual situations, gore, suicidal thoughts, yaoi, and some other crap people generally get all anal about. If any of this bothers you to the point where you can't read it, then…well, don't. Duh. Hope ya enjoy!

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Sonic Hill: Memories of a Shadow

Chapter 1: Lost

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…Tails…

His eyes opened wide.

Darkness encompassed his thin form, slightly tinted by the presence of weak blue light flowing from somewhere nearby. His awakening was scant of comfort – the ice-cold flooring he lay on was about as inviting as the heavy object in his hand.

'Where am I?'

A wave of confusion hit him as he looked down upon his unfamiliar black-furred body. His thin torso and abdomen stretched down to his proportionally long athletic legs that ended at his feet, which were concealed within a pair of new-looking white, black, gold, and red colored boots. He didn't recognize it, not at all.

Unnerving as it was, he couldn't deny what lie in his right gloved hand. A single fully loaded magnum revolver lay enclosed between his fingers. Without a sound, he sat up, groggily scanning his surrounding environment for the first time he could remember.

A bar? Maybe even a strip club. He couldn't tell, this place wasn't familiar at all, and there didn't appear to be anybody around to answer his barrage of questions what would soon follow. Placing the gun unconfidently on the floor, he stared down at his now empty hand. Yet another question was born.

'Who am I?'

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"When I woke up, I was alone."

The black hedgehog's reflection stared back into his crimson red eyes, a lost expression inscribed on his ashen face. He'd been here for what felt like ages—though it was probably for no more than an hour—and still the bar did not look in the least bit familiar, nor did the image he saw in the mirror before him.

Inside, it was disturbingly silent and lonely, and that sense of seclusion was only one hundred times worse outside. The fading blue lights in the back of the room alerted him that it really was a sort of strip club ('S-n-w Gay B-r' he repeated the name in his head for the third time). But if it was a public place, it sure as hell didn't feel like it. The cold streets outside were so foggy he could barely see more than five feet in front of him, so perhaps that would explain why no one was around. But the bar didn't feel like it had been occupied in ages. Dust had collected in heaps atop the rather messy looking area, and the blue lights flashing the bars name like an advertisement looked like they were within an hour of their death. It was lonely, and he didn't like that. He didn't like that at all.

"I don't know where everybody went, or where I am even right now. Not even my own reflection looks familiar…"

Shadow was his name; some strange hidden knowledge had reared its head for a moment to tell him that at least. It came naturally, though if it was his real name or not he didn't know. It was something to hold onto though, something he could at least know. From what he could see of his reflection in the mirror in the back of the main pub he sat at, his red-striped black spines stuck up in a very cool gravity-defying fashion. His eyes scared him slightly – they were just as naturally unnerving as the stripes on his body. A thick white patch of fur covered a small part of his chest, which contrasted with the rest of his body. The skin on the lower furless half of his face was a pale, almost ghost-like white. He must have been laying in the dark for a long time without the aid of the sun for it to turn that white, he guessed.

"I must have worked or lived here before, but…"

His own voice's deepness didn't cease to surprise him every time he spoke, as well.

"Everything's just a blank. It feels so cold and empty…like no one's been in this town for years." Placing his hand on his forehead, he stared down at the mangled wooden surface he leaned on. "Something's very wrong here. Am I the only one left? What happened to everybody?…and who's Tails?"

'Tails…'

Like his own name, that one came naturally. Whoever he or she was, and where he or she is, was a complete mystery. But he knew it was somebody. Somebody…

'—from my past?' he wondered. 'I don't know…'

What he did know was that this place felt unsafe. Something about the bar—about this town—felt extremely creepy, and it wasn't just the emptiness or the weather. It unnerved him, and he didn't like that at all.

The half-empty bottle of liquor made a discreet thud when he placed it back down on the counter. Somehow, its taste just didn't satisfy him.

"I've got to get out of here."

'But where do I go? Where can I go?'

"I don't know…but there's got to be someone out there…"

'Tails?'

"Maybe."

'You don't even know he is.'

"But at least it's something, something to hold onto. It's so lonely here…I need to find someone…"

Stepping off the chair, he took a glance at the surrounding area once more. As much as he hated the idea, he felt that the magnum revolver he'd woken up beside on the floor would be needed. It was something safe, but even with that his paranoia wouldn't cease. Something was really weird about this place, and he didn't want to take any chances.

There was a warm black leather jacket hung on the hook in the far corner of the bar, looking like it was left behind by accident. It was a good thing for him though. Shadow grabbed the jacket and tied it around his waist tightly. It was cold here, but he also needed something somewhat stable to holster his gun in, so he had to improvise. Picking up the moderately heavy weapon, he shoved it in between the jacket's arm and his waist, wedging it into place.

'Only six bullets, and it's not like you even know how to use this thing properly.'

He needed a weapon more concrete than that. His footsteps dully clunked through the dimly lit place as he walked back to the main pub and looked underneath the counter. Luckily for him, there was a large shiny meat cleaver resting peacefully on the bottom shelf. It joined his revolver in the space around his waist.

'Okay, that's more like it I guess.'

And as if someone up there was watching over him that day, he spotted a third item of use on the end of the counter: a map.

'That's strange, I don't remember seeing that before…' he thought to himself. 'Doesn't matter I guess.' He walked up to the map and stared down on it, feeling rather relieved to see the outskirts of the town weren't too far away from his current location: only a few blocks away. According to what was written in the top of the map, over the great Lake Toluca, the town's name was Sonic Hill.

'Sonic Hill…' Strange. That name felt slightly familiar too. Perhaps that was a good thing – his memory may be coming back to him in small doses after all.

Shadow folded the map and stored it with his other two items. Feeling at least a little more confident in himself, he looked at the gay bar's front door.

'Please, somebody, be out there…I need you.' He frowned sadly, feeling barely less lost and alone than he did when he reentered the world of consciousness. With a slight idea of what to do now though, living seemed a little easier, at least. A little. 'Time to get out of here.'

Pushing the door open, Shadow exited the bar, determined to get as far away from the town as possible, find this Tails, and finally get some answers.

Little did he know that when he returned, he'd be forced to make the hardest decision of his short, short life.