Guess what! I watched Silent Hill: Revelation and it was pretty fucking awesome (or at least it was in my opinion). So… yeah. Silent Hill fanfic.
19 JUNE 2007
It was the biggest storm of the year in Haven, Maine.
Esmee Danvers sat quietly in her living room, waiting for the power to come back on. She leaned back comfortably against her couch, reading an old book my candle light.
The rain cascaded over the windows of her Victorian house, creating the enhanced projection of their shape on her carpet.
A year ago, Esmee inherited the paid-off house from her aunt who had died in the early months. 'A gift, now that you are responsible enough,' as it was stated in the will. Because she had been emancipated at seventeen, Esmee was a bit of a drifter, moving from a friend's house, to another's. When she first moved in to the house, she didn't know what to do. It was so large compared to her. The entire house was empty, save for the queen size bed in the master bedroom, a large sage green couch, two full bookshelves, and an old television from the eighties accompanied with a working VCR and a few movies that Esmee used to watch when she was visiting as an infant.
Although it still felt too big for her, it had become her safe haven.
Now, the living room also had an old oak coffee table, given to her as a birthday present from a friend, which joined the couch, bookshelves, and television. Her dining room was also slightly furnished with a table and three chairs. Her bedroom had a desk and nightstand that joined the queen sized bed. Even one of the guest bedrooms was furnished, including a bed, nightstand, and a dresser. It still wasn't much, but it was home.
Unfortunately, as she inherited the house, she also inherited many problems.
Her aunt was a loved member of the community, there was no doubt about that. But Esmee never grew up in Haven, so she became a bit of a social outcast. On top of that, her nice house in the country was right in the middle of a plan to build a bypass. Her aunt vehemently stood her ground to keep the house standing, and when she passed, the companies nearly had a field day until it was released that her niece inherited it. The Sheriff was nice to her at first, passing the message that a company was offering a deal for the house. Esmee couldn't take it and wouldn't; it would be a betrayal to the family she was estranged from, and she saw herself maybe living in it with a family in the future. There came another deal, and she turned it down too.
In the year she'd lived there, Esmee had already dealt with property defacement, harassment from the Board pushing for the bypass, and had even been arrested for jaywalking
Esmee gently set her book, The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes, down on the coffee table in front of her and reached for her mug of tea.
Her cinnamon brown eyes scanned the living room in the darkness. It was elegant, basked in the faint candle light. She threw her blonde braid over her left shoulder and took another sip of tea.
She nearly choked on the liquid when she heard a fast knocking on her front door.
She gulped, regulating her breathing, and jogged to it.
When she had unlocked it, Esmee was greeted by a young girl, who looked as if she had been caught in a fire.
The little girl's hair was as black as the sky, and her eyes were ice blue. She was short, appearing to be about ten or eleven. Her dress looked like it was supposed to be navy blue, but soot and ash covered the vast majority of the fabric. Around the collar, looked like it was once white, but had also been affected by some kind of fire.
For a moment, Esmee couldn't speak. She was in shock.
It suddenly hit her that this was a lone child, whose hair was still singed, standing in the rain.
In a rush, words began spilling out of Esmee's mouth.
"Come here, sweetie. Um, where are your parents? Do you need me to call a doctor-?"
"Esmee…" her voice sounded like a grown woman's.
The older girl stopped speaking.
"Do not ever let this body enter Silent Hill."
"I… I don't understand." Esmee spoke quietly.
The little girl stepped to her right, only it looked like her body and spirit separated. Another little girl stood where the other once had. She looked to be the same girl, only she wasn't burned. Her dress was untouched by any flame. Her hair, instead of singed and black, was dark brown and appeared to have a silky texture. Her eyes were still the same shade, only they seemed more innocent and child-like.
The new girl didn't move or speak. She was as still as a mannequin. Like a blank slate.
"I pray that you never have to understand, Esmee Danvers." The burned girl backed away, and almost immediately, the new girl's eyes began fluttering, as if she were waking up. However, instead of waking up, her eyes shut, and she toppled forward into Esmee's arms.
Esmee caught her and held the small girl in her arms. "Who are you?"
"I am her. The Order doesn't know her whereabouts or yours, so change her name and hide her."
"But-"
"And never let her go to Silent Hill."
With that, the burned girl backed away into the rain, disappearing.
Esmee stood at the door with the girl in her arms, in utter confusion.
Okay, I've clearly gone bat shit crazy. This did not just happen?
After a moment of thinking and rethinking, Esmee scooped the girl into a cradle position and ran inside where it was dry and warm.
After shutting the door with her foot, Esmee immediately set the girl on the couch and examined her.
Am I going to take care of her? I'm only eighteen... I have a job and I can barely support myself!
Esmee began pacing out of habit, wondering what had just happened to her.
Silent Hill? The resort town? Please, that place is as intimidating as a cup of tea…
She stopped in her place and looked at the little girl. She was still sound asleep.
For a moment, she seriously contemplated calling the authorities. Oh hell, like that would go over well. If anything, it would cause more problems for me and this kid if I called them…
Her eyes drifted to the girl who suddenly started stirring in her sleep.
She looked so peaceful; Esmee was actually jealous. She couldn't remember the last time she had a deep, fulfilling slumber.
When the girl woke up, Esmee was scared shitless.
"Wh-where am I?" she asked, looking around frantically.
"Uh… My house." That was the best response Esmee could come up with.
"Who are you?"
"My name is Esmee Danvers. What is yours?"
The girl fell silent. Tears began forming at her eyes in fear.
"Oh, sweetie, don't cry!" Esmee said almost panicking. She carefully reached for the girl, hugging her.
To Esmee's surprise, the girl hugged back, tightly as if she was her only protector.
After so long, the little girl's crying was reduced to sniffles.
"Can I stay here with you, Esmee?" she asked.
Esmee nodded, "Of course, sweetheart."
She was silent again, "Esmee, what is my name?"
The older one sighed, "I don't know. Do you remember anything?"
She shook her head, "No…"
Esmee let the girl go, and stood. "Come with me." She took her hand and led her to the kitchen.
Esmee's kitchen was larger than she liked. The vast amount of empty space made her feel lonely at times. It was still painted the same warm colours her aunt painted over a decade ago.
The little girl sat at the dining table as she was told while Esmee approached the tea kettle which was still warm.
As she poured a cup of raspberry tea, the little girl began speaking.
"I had a dream." She said.
Esmee sat down and pushed the mug of tea towards her, "Really? About what?"
The little girl sipped the tea and appeared as if she were recalling the events of the dream. "I was surrounded by a bunch of grown-ups who were wearing black. They were saying something over and over again, tying my wrists and ankles to some big circle." She looked frightened as she recalled the last moments of her dream. "Then there were flames all around me…"
Esmee took her hand, "If you don't want to continue, you don't have to."
The little girl sniffed and nodded.
"Are you hungry or anything? I'm sure I've got a frozen pizza or something." She offered.
The girl nodded slightly.
The pizza baking process was interesting; the little girl watched Esmee's actions as if they were novel. And she had never tasted pizza before. It wasn't anything fancy, but the little girl enjoyed it.
It wasn't long after that she yawned. With a full stomach (and from the crying, earlier), the little girl was exhausted.
"Let me show you to your room." Esmee said and took the mug to the sink.
Finding her sleepwear was a little difficult.
Esmee wasn't a large woman; quite the opposite, actually. But this was a child, and almost nothing of Esmee's fit her.
Eventually, Esmee located an old white shirt that had once belonged to her ex-boyfriend. It fit her like a really big shirt, but on the little girl, it was the equivalent of a dress.
Esmee sat next to her while she lied in bed.
"Are you sure you don't remember anything?" she asked.
The child shook her head, "Nothing…"
Esmee nodded, "Well, maybe it'll all come back to you in the morning."
The little girl yawned again, and after she closed her eyes, she whispered something.
"Goodnight, Esmee. Thank you."
Esmee felt her heart warmed by her words, "Goodnight, kiddo. Sweet dreams."
As the young one drifted to a deep slumber, Esmee slowly stood, turned off the light, and left the bedroom door cracked so that she could hear if the little girl needed her.
Esmee felt herself becoming tired, but she remembered the burned girl from earlier that evening.
Making sure she was out of earshot –mainly so she wouldn't wake the girl– Esmee pulled out her cell phone and dialled as she made her way down the stairs.
As it was ringing, Esmee pulled out a pen and piece of paper, writing down little girl's new name, thinking of a middle name that would fit with it.
"Ezzy, Satan better be at your fucking house if you're calling me this late…" a man on the other line grumbled unhappily.
Esmee looked at the clock, realizing that it was three in the morning. Shit…
"Um, Ian, do you still make fake birth certificates, IDs, and shit like that?" Esmee asked.
"Why, you running away to Vegas? I'll go pack-"
"No, Ian, um… Can you come by my house at noon, tomorrow?"
"Sure, what's up?
"It's hard to explain over the phone. See you tomorrow."
"Wait, Esmee-"
Esmee hung up, her hands trembling when she realized that what happened to her was something that didn't have a scientific or even logical explanation. How was she going to explain this to Ian Morris?
'Hi Ian, I was reading a book when this burned ghost girl named Alessa Gillespie, appeared on my doorstep, duplicated herself, and gave me the living human version of herself and told me to never let her anywhere near Silent Hill. So, I don't know if this kid was even born in this century, or if her parents are alive, but so that these people from some organization called 'The Order' don't find her, can you make a fake everything, while including that I'm in custody of her?' Yeah, that would definitely work… Esmee thought sarcastically.
It then dawned on Esmee that Ian probably thought the fucking mafia was after her considering her vague explanation over the phone.
She found herself pacing once more, back and forth on her carpet.
She stopped.
There was something odd about this.
Yes, Silent Hill was dangerous because of the fires still deep in the mines. Esmee had once done an essay about coal mines in the fifties, and Silent Hill was a prime example of regulations not being followed (or at least as far as they knew). But what was the Order? And why did they pose a threat to that girl… or Alessa? Trying to work everything out with as little of an explanation she had been given was making her dizzy.
She plopped down to her couch and held her head in her hands. "It's too goddamn late for this."
After sitting there for a moment, Esmee stood and walked quietly up the stairs.
She peeked into the little girl's room, satisfied when seeing her sleeping soundly.
She yawned and headed towards her own bedroom.
Esmee's bedroom was her favourite room in her entire house. The walls were grey and comforting. The ceiling arched, making it feel shorter, but longer. The black drapes kept the lights from the street lamps from reaching inside, something she was always pleased with considering that the damn street lamp kept her up before she bought the drapes. Beside Esmee's desk were several pictures tacked to the wall.
Esmee discarded her clothes, save for her underwear and bra, and searched for her sweat shorts and tank top.
Once dressed in her nightclothes, she hopped onto her bed and shut off the lamp on the nightstand.
She didn't realize how tired she was until her head hit the pillow, because she was asleep immediately.
"NOOOOO!"
Esmee leapt from her bed and threw the comforter aside, freeing her legs from its warmth. Clumsily, she jerked her door open and ploughed straight into the other.
The child was screaming as if she were being greeted by Death himself.
"Shh, hey, I'm here." The older woman made an attempt to comfort her.
"I felt the fire!" she sobbed. "I felt it!" she began breathing erratically, clutching the fabric of Esmee's tank top for dear life.
As Esmee rocked back and forth with her in her arms, the girl calmed down and suddenly fell back to sleep.
The blonde sat in confusion as she slept in her arms.
Esmee slowly set her back on her bed and covered her with the pale blue comforter. She stood there for a second, making sure that everything was alright.
She turned on her heel and walked back to her bedroom.
Her bedroom suddenly felt uncomfortably hot. Esmee opened the drapes, being assaulted by the dim morning light. When she opened the window, a pleasant breeze greeted her.
She inhaled the fresh air and turned to her bed.
The alarm clock on the nightstand told her that it was six-thirty. Esmee crawled back on her bed, and though it was comfortable enough to sleep, she couldn't bring herself to do it.
Seconds turned to minutes as more light came pouring from the window. By the time Esmee had left her bed again, it was seven, and the birds were singing.
She slipped out of her shorts and into her last pair of clean jeans. She needed to do the laundry. Esmee grabbed a black cardigan to go over her grey tank top and began picking up various articles of clothing she planned on throwing into the washer. She balanced the hamper on her hip and quietly entered the girl's room.
She was pleased when she saw the child sleeping as if nothing had happened.
It might be a case of night terrors…
Esmee picked up her clothes and tossed them into the hamper.
Once again, she glanced towards her, just to make sure that she was alright.
As Esmee left her bedroom, her phone started buzzing in her pocket.
Quickly, she made her way to the laundry room before answering.
"Hello?"
"Listen, Ezzy, I've got something coming up this afternoon. Is it okay if I come over right now?"
Esmee bit her lip; she didn't have anything to do.
"Sure, I guess."
"Expect me in ten minutes."
Esmee shoved her phone back in the pocket and dumped the clothes into the washer. After starting the machine, she quietly walked down the stairs and to the kitchen.
Usually whenever Ian would visit, Esmee would make a pot of coffee for him.
She sat quietly on the couch until she heard a knock on the door.
She stood and greeted Ian.
Ian Morris was a tall man in his mid-twenties. His hair was the colour of red clay, which accentuated the green in his hazel eyes. His bones were somewhat visible, giving him a skeletal appearance, even though the man ate plenty. He was a local, and like Esmee, was a bit of an outcast as well. He was the only one who offered to help her move in, and he had done quite a bit for her in the year they had known each other. On more than one occasion, he had helped her when people would knock down her fence or spray paint obscenities on her property.
Esmee hugged her good friend and handed him a mug of black coffee.
"You know me too well, Ezzy." He smiled, "So what's the problem? Why do you need a new identity?"
Esmee hesitated before answering. "It's not me who needs it."
"Esmee?"
Ian and Esmee looked up to the staircase, seeing the little girl standing idly.
Esmee turned back to him, "It's for her."
"So you're telling me that she just… appeared on your doorstep?"
"No, another little girl did. Her name was Alessa Gillespie." Esmee reiterated.
"… Who looked exactly like her?"
"Yes."
"And then… she split herself in half?"
"Not exactly, it's like, her spirit stepped out of her own body."
The little girl sat close to Esmee as she explained the previous night's events.
Ian sat back, processing everything he heard.
"So… how high were you last night?"
"Dammit, Ian, listen to me. This happened. I saw it with my own eyes." Esmee argued.
She clung to Esmee's arm like she was her mother.
"Okay, have you tried to call the authorities? Maybe they have records on this little girl."
"Ian, I'd be lucky of Sheriff Burke didn't pin a kidnapping charge on me. And besides, Silent Hill's fire happened decades ago. All you will find if you type in Alessa's name into a search engine is a list of people caught in the accident."
Ian sighed and rubbed his temples. "Fine. If this 'Order' is really out to get this kid, I'll make this for her. What's her full name?" he asked as he pulled out a notepad and pen.
Esmee hadn't thought of a name for her. She remembered the little burned child on her doorstep, and how she stepped away to reveal a new, untouched version of herself. As if the child was reborn. She thought for a moment before looking at her, "Well, what do you think of the name, Phoenix?"
"What does it mean?" the little girl asked.
"Well in Greek mythology, when a phoenix becomes old, it burns up, and from the ashes, it is reborn into a new baby phoenix." She explained.
The way her eyes lit up brought a smile to Esmee's face. "Can that be my name?" she asked.
Esmee nodded, feeling a slight heart-warming sensation.
"Middle name?"
Esmee looked to the little girl, "Do you want a middle name?"
Phoenix looked into her cinnamon eyes, "What was the leaf you put in my tea last night?"
"Rosemary."
"Can that be my middle name?" her blue eyes lit up.
Esmee laughed, "I guess so."
Ian spoke as he was writing, "Phoenix Rosemary, we'll worry about a surname later. Alright, got it. Age?"
"Eleven or so."
"So, let's just put her birthday as the 19th of June, 1996. Mother and father?"
Esmee bit her lip, wondering if what she was about to say could lead to any trouble. She then remembered a distant cousin who had passed from a car accident on her father's side. Everyone from her current residence was related to her from her mother's side. No one would know that Phoenix wasn't actually related to her.
Ian sighed, "It could be possible. Legal guardian?"
Esmee sighed; "I guess to avoid suspicion, put down my name." she shrugged.
Phoenix nodded and rested her head against Esmee's arm, "Does that mean my last name will be Danvers too?"
Ian looked at the two, "I can put it down." He suggested.
Phoenix and Esmee exchanged a moment of quiet talking, before both nodding.
About a month had passed by since Phoenix had first arrived to Esmee's house, under the ruse that she was a distant cousin from her father's side, a man also ostracised for his abandoning of Esmee and her mother.
The two were beginning to settle into a daily routine. Esmee would wake up at nine, make breakfast for both of them and then wake up Phoenix. From nine-thirty to eleven, Esmee would help Phoenix with home-schooling and then get ready to go to work at twelve thirty (and Ian would watch Phoenix during Esmee's shifts). Phoenix finishes the rest of her schoolwork and either reads, surfs the internet, or watches a couple of movies that Ian had brought for the two. Phoenix then showers while Esmee makes dinner when she gets home at six. They eat, hang out, and talk about their day and then wind down for the night. Esmee would shower just before bed and then tuck in Phoenix and go to bed herself.
It was Tuesday, and Phoenix had finished her schoolwork early.
She toyed with the fabric of her electric blue pyjama shorts; Esmee had bought her some new clothes, like jeans and shirts. She even bought her a shirt that matched her pyjama shorts.
Normally, she would have already latched to Esmee's laptop, reading every current event, even if she didn't understand why they happened.
She felt a strange sensation in her stomach. It wasn't nausea, but it wasn't excitement. It was panic.
Her breathing quickened and the god awful feeling of being watched overcame her. She pushed the laptop to the other side of the couch and brought her knees to her chest.
Her head began to hurt. The pain became so strong that she almost started crying.
Everything disintegrated.
Pieces of the floor ripped off like fabric; everything became rusty or bloody, and a loud siren played so loud, Phoenix thought her eardrums would bust.
She remained still.
The pain left.
The siren stopped.
What's going on?!
Phoenix examined her surroundings carefully; touching the ground with her feet. She felt a thick goo-like substance covering the hardwood floor. Ugh, it's blood!
She saw people robed in black, walking towards her, slowly.
Flames.
Phoenix shook her head and fell into the foetal position.
It's just a dream.
Closer and closer they came to her.
They can't hurt me.
The scraping sound of metal upon concrete made Phoenix cover her ears.
It's just a dream…
Flames surrounded her.
"GO AWAAAY!"
"PHOENIX!"
Phoenix sat up. She was back in her house. Everything was normal, save for the fact that Esmee was running to her. Groceries were on the floor where the door was left open.
Esmee was cradling her, "What happened?"
"It was so real…" she sobbed, "I felt the blood on the floor! I felt the flames around me!"
"Ian, something was wrong."
The two adults were in the dining room, drinking coffee. The evening light poured from the windows, basking the room in a yellow light that created a warm glow on Esmee's pale skin.
"Well, you said she had night terrors…"
"Yeah, but she said that it felt real. How many nightmares have you had where you could feel coagulated blood? Or flames that are about to swallow you whole? And besides, Phoenix was wide awake when this was happening." Esmee held her head in her hands.
Ian acted as if he were about to speak, only to be interrupted by the doorbell.
"Hmm, I'm not expecting company…" Esmee raised an eyebrow. "I swear to god, if it's another court summons for breathing I'm gonna hurt that moron of a sheriff." She grumbled as she walked off to the front of the house.
A rather small man, close to Esmee's height was at the doorway. "Hi, my car's broken down. Can I use your phone?"
Esmee closed the door behind him and pointed the way to her landline.
The man didn't move.
"Are you alright-"
He tackled her to the stairs.
"IAN!" she cried for her friend's assistance.
Ian dashed from the dining room and to the entrance hall. In spite of his size, like most men when adrenaline is pumping through his veins, he is unstoppable.
He pulled the strange man off of Esmee and dodged the knife he was swinging frantically.
He caught the man in his wrist and pried his fingers off the blade.
The knife dropped to Esmee's feet and she grabbed it immediately.
When the man began choking Ian, she plunged the knife into his back. He thrashed at Esmee, knocking her against the wall.
Ian had the upper hand; he yanked the knife out of its place, and when the man turned to attack Ian, Ian shoved the knife into his heart.
The strange man fell to his knees and on to the carpet.
Phoenix ran down the stairs to see what the commotion was. "What happened?!" She stopped dead when she saw the edge of the tattoo on his chest.
"What? What is it?" Esmee looked at the frightened girl.
"I've seen that before!" Tears began falling to her cheeks.
"Where, where have you seen it?" Esmee approached her as Phoenix sat on the stairs.
"In my dream… That was what they burned me on."
Ian ripped the man's shirt and exposed the rest of the tattoo.
"The Halo of the Sun." Phoenix spoke automatically. "That's what they called it in my dream."
"From three weeks ago?" Esmee asked.
Phoenix only nodded.
"The Order." Ian spoke, standing upright.
Esmee bit her lip, "Ian, I need you to do me a favour or two."
"What is it?" he asked.
"Still want to move out of that shitty apartment?"
"Hell yeah, I do."
"Good, because you're going to make new identities for me and Phoenix."
Ian was dumbstruck. "What? Why?"
"This isn't safe for Phoenix anymore. It's obvious that the Order would do anything…"
"What are you going to do if this happens again? You'd have to find someone else to make a new identity."
Esmee frowned, "Well someone has to watch this place. It's been in our family since my great grandmother moved here from England. Who knows how many people will jump for this place once I leave?"
"I can have my sister move in and house sit for a while." He said. "Let me come with you."
Esmee looked to Phoenix, who was tightly holding her.
"Sorry, sweetheart, but we may have to leave." Esmee said solemnly and brushed a piece of her hair behind her ear.
"What do they want?" Phoenix asked with teary eyes.
Esmee looked back to the corpse on her floor, "I don't know." She whispered.
A week had passed by and anything of importance was packed into Ian's old van from his band days. His sister was nice enough to agree to house sit, and they were strictly on a need-to-know basis.
As they drove away from the tree-story Victorian house, Phoenix felt awful. She was making Esmee move from a beautiful home and putting both Ian and her in danger…
She solemnly folded her hands in her lap and sighed, all she could do now was hope for the best.
WOOT. That was a lot more than I usually write for one chapter, much less a prologue. So yeah, this is sort of similar to the movie I just watched for the third time. There were some things I have criticism on, but other than that, I enjoyed the movie even after playing some of the games (or just reading the Silent Hill Wiki or other fanfictions…)
So I hope you guys enjoyed the preface to Reborn from the Ashes.
