{I do not own silent hill or silent hill 2. I do not work for capcom and I am not a videogame maker. I write this story only as a sub plot to what could have happened after the events unfolded from silent hill 1 and 2. Pieces of information will be seen in this text from the games themselves or the booklets. There are some MAJOR spoilers here if you did not play either game.}
It was the town they called a nightmare. It was a town where reality is the illusion and hell was the reality. Dating back to the early 1800's is when this town first received it's history. Hidden beneath the streets and fused within the houses in this very town breaths the demons of the past. As the mountain town sits, a mash of mysteries weather patterns unfold upon it. "How could it be so?" whispers the civilians caught in the swirl of a demented imagination. How high did the death toll climb? What happened to the thousands missing? Are there survivors? What is it about this town that people are drawn to it so? Every town has its secrets. Some are just darker than others. I recently have interests in the towns dark potential. I took it upon me and my company to investigate. These notes and memoirs will serve a purpose to the cause of this unsolved enigma of life. I researched dozens of newspaper articles from back 7 years ago. Plenty of information to catch up on the town's history. As a paranormal expert and a writer, I'll find the answers and unravel this town's deviance. I'm not so sure on what I find, but I'm sure it'll be worth the trip. J.S.
I pulled the sheet from the typewriter and gazed long at it with pride. I took the pen from my pocket and made a last signature phrase that I wanted to add. I wrote : "Jack Shaye, The human lab rat set forth in the maze of an abyss."
I folded up the paper and wedged it in my green research notebook. Tossing the notebook in the suitcase I had open upon my unmade double bed. I went for the closet in an attempt to find some clean clothes.
My wife came into the room. She'd been sore at me ever since I agreed to take this trip.
"You're not leaving, jack!"
She had always been my equal. My spouse through thick and thin.
"You know, as well as I do, that this could be a big break for you and me." ,I reassured her.
I was packing some clothes and a few items for the trip. Just the usual stuff.
Health drinks, in case I got thirsty, first-aid kit, in case I was hurt or bleeding, some Tylenol, my taperecorder, a notebook, 3 packs of Marlboro's, a lighter, flashlight, my tools from when I was a locksmith, and...wait.....I'm forgetting something...
I walked to the closet and flipped the switch. While standing on a box to give me lift, I felt around for the toolbox I kept up there. I felt it's handle and pulled it down. I unlocked it and pulled out the gleaming instrument of destruction. The family gun. It was a berretta that my grandfather used to show me. He used to go on about using the gun only when he needed to. 78 years and never once had he used it. Well, I did.
"No,no,no. What is this now? A gun?" asked my wife with a hint of worrying. "You can't just drive off to that place when you have no idea what's out there. I heard those stories and if you think for a second, that as your wife, I won't convince you not to go, then I think you should have married some hooker without feelings."
"The gun is only in case I run into some unexpected trouble." I shoved the gun in my leather coat pocket.
"Unexpected trouble? Listen to yourself, jack! You make it sound as if you were a man running from the law." My wife was a good kind-hearted soul, but sometimes you hear just too much of a warning. I slammed the suitcase on the bed.
"What right have you to say that! No, I'm not a man running from the law! I might as well be, though! I'm going on this trip and if you want to come with, just say the word and I'll pack your case too."
That had done it over. I knew that my wife still had all those news articles dating back from 1999 to 2002. She wasn't that supersitiscious but when one of her very best friends went to that town and never came back, she wouldn't even step out of the house unless someone forced her.
I hugged her sympathetically. Holding her head in my hands while kissing it.
She was sobbing uncontrollably.
"Listen," I said while looking into her innocent eyes of hope. "I've got your love stored deep within my soul. Even if I die, which I won't, not even the devil himself could tear it out. And as soon as I come back, I'll promise to stay back. Don't start doubting my willingness to survive now. Okay, June?"
She agreed as I thought she would. She even helped me out to the car and stuck my suitcase in the passenger seat. She insisted that I take her cross with me. I reached out for it and took it from her soft able hands. I'll never forget that kiss. That kiss she had given me before I drove off, as if to say. "Come back and there will be more waiting."
I heard her tell me. "What kind of a name is silent hill for a town, anyway?"
[fades to black]
[Errie letters start swirling around in a ghostly manner revealing words in a greenish glow]
Shadow films presents
in association with Grey castle productions
A Rage creation film
Silent Hill 3: The Tracker on his way
