I wake up in the middle of the night to the sound of screams. Someone is running for their lives in the alleyway near my house. I can hear him gasping for air, his footsteps pounding on wet cement in his mad race for cover. But then it stops- the running, the screaming. He's cornered. He makes one last scream, and then all is silent.

I was born in this town. Twice. …Or was it three times? I can't quite remember. The point is this: I am linked to this town, I am one with it. I see all, both tangible and intangible. I alone can hear the desperate cries of those who lose themselves in the darkness. There is very little I can do for them, because their demons are theirs alone to face. I know, because I've already faced mine.

And yet, I'm still living in this nightmare, a nightmare from which I may never be able to wake up. But I guess that's what you get when you live here… in Silent Hill.

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SILENT HILL: ASHES TO ASHES

Snodin

I: Monster In The Mirror

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Kait Lancaster was only fifteen years old, a proper Catholic school girl it seemed. That is, except for one thing: Kait liked to burn things. Ever since she was a toddler, she loved to watch candles burn; there were some birthdays when she stared at the wax candles melt into her birthday cake, her parents pleading her to blow them out- her eyes would tear up when she finally did. Then at the tender age of five, she found her father's missing matches, and taught herself how to flick them until they burned. She could stare at those tiny flames for hours if she could, but they always burned out too soon. Her heart sank as each lit match put itself out, one by one. Oh, if only she could find a way to make them last longer…

Then when she was thirteen, she and her mother got into a heated argument about the bullies in her school, how she wanted her mother to do something about them and how her mother was powerless to do so. In a fit, Kait stormed out of the house and into an alley where she caught the unmistakable glimpse of a small blaze. Curiously she entered the alley, and there she found a homeless man standing by a steel trashcan, its innards blazing in fire. He told her that he had to light the trash so that it could keep him warm, and so she joined him. But Kait wasn't there to keep warm; her focus was on the flame itself. Finally, he had her answer to the match dilemma. From that day on, whenever she and her mother got into a pointless argument, she would steal her father's matches, sneak out of the house and into the alleyway, picking up flammable discarded paper (or her notebook sleeves, whichever was available), and set her own little flame in the old trash can. This was her way of coping with her teenage angst, and for a while it worked.

But then, one evening, she went too far.

There were rumors going around about a small cult in the neighborhood, and that its members would always gather at the old Balkan Church. It had been burned once already, years before Kait was born, and had only recently been restored. But very few people would dare enter it, fearing it was haunted or some silly superstition like that. There was no knowing if there really was a cult gathering there, unless one was brave enough to investigate. Kait was one such brave soul, even at the age of fifteen. Carrying her "lucky lighter" with her- something she had picked up off the street and kept as a charm- she snuck into the building like a thief in the night, crouching and tip-toeing her way down the aisles, until at last she came to the bema. Where there should have been an altar, there was gaping hole in the floor, which caught young Kait by surprise. Funny how most of the building had been rebuilt, and yet this, the most important feature of any church, was nothing more than a void. Even the stained glass windows behind it seemed odd; there was no image of Christ or even his apostles, or even a simple cross, but a red angel with its wings spread out. Its face was a bit distorted, probably because of the art style of the chopped up glass. But as she stared up at the angel, a cold chill ran down her spine. Something about this just wasn't right. Perhaps the rumors were true, and this was indeed the church of an anti-Christian cult.

She felt sick with disgust; growing up Catholic, who could blame her? After all, angels were servants to the one true God, and as if adding insult to injury, these freaks were using a church to worship their false idol. It made her furious… furious enough to switch on her lighter, which she had never done before until now. With the strangers gone, Kait snaked her way past the void in the floor and toward the closest thing to the stained glass window that was flammable, the Deacon doors.

"Let's see if your angel likes fire." Flick.

Ah, but it was all too flammable. Poor Kait didn't know that the wood in the doors were so dry, that her lighter's tongue became a raging blaze, swallowing up the entire wall where the angel in the glass stood. Fearful of getting burned herself, she raced down the nave, but as the fire reached the ceiling's arches, debris began to rain down. The wires of the ceiling lights sparked, and glass showered onto her, and even the carpet under her feet was beginning to burn. She was just inches away from the door, when a large wooden chunk came crashing down on her from above. She lay on the floor, struggling to push herself free, when a flame from the burning block licked her face. She screamed in agony and began to frantically thrash about her limbs as the flames began to soak her clothes and skin. But just when it seemed all was lost, salvation came, and in the most ironic of forms: a robed figure found her and dragged her to safety as she lost consciousness.

When she woke up in the hospital, most of her head was bandaged up save for her right side, as were her arms and limbs. She had suffered second and third degree burns, but survived. And within a few weeks, she would recover enough to have her bandages removed… but when that day came, she looked into the mirror and saw a monster. Red scars covered most of her face, especially on her left side where the only human feature she had left was her left blue eye. Part of her scalp was bald, and there was no certainty if the hair that was burned off would ever grow back. Her lips were swollen and pained, and her left hand was mangled. She didn't even want to know what the rest of her looked like, at least not immediately. She stood there for what felt like hours, gazing into the reflection of this beast she created. It all hit home now: God was angry with her for setting fire to his temple, and this was her punishment. Kait frowned in utter despair.

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Weeks went by, and summer changed to fall.

Some of Kait's scars had vanished, but her face was still reddened and scarred. Also, her forehead had a patch of bald where long, silky black hair used to be. She had regained feeling in most of her skin, except for her left hand which was covered by a dark glove she herself decided on. In fact, most of her body was covered now, in light pantyhose, long black boots, a short skirt and a long-sleeved sweater, all giving off a Gothic appearance. It fit her nicely, this Gothic look. It suited the fact that she was very quiet now, quiet and aloof. At school, no one wanted to speak to her let alone look at her (except for the teachers of course, they had no choice), and as a result she became a bit of a recluse.

It seemed as though Kait was a new girl now- new face, new clothes, and new opinion on fire. Fire was evil, fire was the Devil's tool, fire was what made her a monster. And while her parents were admittedly relieved that their daughter would never again steal matches or cigarette lighters, this new Kait concerned them all the more. Even when they asked her if she wanted to go through surgery that would reconstruct her face, she refused. Not just because she was afraid to, but because she wanted the scars to remind her of her sin, the sin that nearly killed her.

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October came, and the school halls were covered in Halloween decorations. The other teens talked amongst themselves about what they were going to do on the holiday; some admitted that they were more interested in Mischief Night, while others said they were going to dress up and go trick-or-treating. Nobody bothered to ask what Kait was going to do, except one or two obnoxious boys who said, "She's already dressed up, she's going as Freddy Kreuger's Daughter." They even dared to say this while she was in earshot, but she made no attempt to defend herself. She just sat in her chair, far in the back of the class, with a hoodie draped over her head.

When Halloween crept closer, Kait fell even deeper into her despair, wearing her black hoodie sweater over her school uniform every day. She kept her face toward the floor, careful not to look anyone in the eye. Not even those young girls who showed pity for her, asking her if she was feeling alright. She no longer saw a difference between friend or foe. In her mind, they were all judging her. Just as God above was judging her.

"Kait? Did you hear me?" asked the young red-haired girl walking beside her in the hall. "I was asking if you were doing anything on Saturday. We're all going out to the movies, you wanna come with? …Kait?"

Kait's ears heard nothing but static, like radio static as a result of a knob stuck between stations. That's sort of what her mind was like now, stuck between reality and a void of darkness. And now, the static was growing stronger, and the ceiling lights began to flicker. Light. Dark. Light. Dark. Light, dark, light, dark, light-dark-light-dark-lightdarklightdarklight- Foom!

Kait opened her eyes, and saw a haze of green. She looked left and right, and realized that she was all alone, in that same school hallway… Only now, the entire hallway was set upside down. She was standing on the ceiling!

"What the hell…?"

She paused, feeling panicked for a moment, until her blood pressure calmed. She could feel gravity working with her perspective; there was no feeling of disorientation or dizziness; it was as if she was right side up, while everything else was facing the wrong way. She moved forward, careful not to step directly over the ceiling lights for fear she might crush them. The hallway seemed to have no end, no matter how long she walked, there was no wall at the end of the trail. There were, however, classroom doors. She reached out to pull one open. It was locked. She moved up to the next one. Locked. The one night to that one, also locked. Then at last, she came to a fourth door, and it was unlocked. She pulled the doorknob and entered.

It was Mister King's algebra room. There was no change to it, except for the green hue of the atmosphere and the fact that everything and everyone was upside down. And yes, there were people there- seven white-robed figures sitting in desks, each one covered head to toe in angelic white robes, and their faces were hidden by white masks with small, round eyeholes. And there were no eyes under those holes, just black voids. And there were no mouth pieces, just small red lines that curled into smiles. Kait dared to walk up to one and lean in to speak to it- "Hello? Who are you?" but no answer, not even a flinch. The white figure just stared blankly at the blackboard ahead, just like the other six.

Kait moved forward, and saw that there was a red-robed figure in the teacher's desk, it too masked with small black eyeholes, except its red and white were reversed- a red mask with a small white-painted smile. He, or she, was writing some scribble on a piece of paper on the desk. Kait leaned in to see what the figure was scribbling, but it was such a distorted mess that she couldn't decipher it.

"Hello? …Mister King, is that you?"

No answer from the red one, just scribbling and scribbling.

Frustrated, Kait walked out of the room and back into the endless hall.

In the hall, more white-robed figures floated across the upturned floor, like quiet ghosts, all of which were oblivious to the right side-up girl's presence. Each one wore a mask with a slightly different line where their mouth would have been; some wore red smiles, others red frowns, and others more slightly opened "mouths," indicating that they were speaking to each other. But no voices came to Kait's ears; all she heard from them was radio static. Their presence was beginning to creep her out; she began to wonder, "Are they the ghosts, or am I?" No longer able to stand it, she ran for the one door she knew had to be open: the bathroom door.

As it was in the real world, the bathroom was like a sanctuary, a place to hide in whenever the bullying and name-calling became too much to bear. The room was darkened by lack of light, but there was still a slight hint of green hue on the walls and ceiling/floor. Curiously, she explored the stalls, opening each one to see if the white ghosts were sitting on the upside-down toilets. But each stall was empty, and amazingly, no water was pouring from the porcelain seats. She chuckled softly, despite her growing fears.

The last place left to explore was the front wall where the sinks and large mirror were. Before anything else, she tested the sink nozzles one by one, and watched in wonder as water poured out in the right direction, downward to her feet instead of up into the sink bowls. This was indeed curious; how was it that everything else about the school was in the wrong direction, and yet this water was acting according to gravity? Then a frightening thought crossed her mind: what if this was the one room where down was down and up was up? What if this room was actually separated from the world beyond its doors? That would mean that this could be the way back to her own world, where there were children instead of masked ghosts. All she had to do was find a hole… the mirror, perhaps. Yes, the mirror. She gazed into it…

"…oh god…. Oh, God, no…. No! ….NoooAAAAAUUUGH!"

There was no human girl on the other side of the glass, but in her stead was a naked, grotesque red beast covered in burn scars from head to toe. It had no eyes, yet it was crying tears of blood. It had small patches of black hair- her hair. Its head was stretched out and distorted, with a long jawless mouth that seemed to be screaming forever. There were no teeth, no tongue, just a scream.

This was her reflection. This was her. She knew this, because when she looked down at her own hands, they too were grotesquely burned and wrinkled with scars. Her old self melted away, and was replaced with the mirror's reflection, a red, scratched, blind, jawless beast that couldn't stop screaming. Even when she tried to jump through the mirror to escape the nightmare, it was still screaming.

CRASH!

Young Samantha Wallace entered the bathroom after hearing a terrible crash, and screamed in horror. Running into the hall, she could only point with a quivering finger, showing the way for Mister King. When he entered the girl's bathroom, he cupped his mouth in horror, in sight of the lifeless body of Kait Lancaster, her head smashed into the mirror.

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Some would say that Kait's story ends there, but it really doesn't. That next morning, my telephone rang. I was still half asleep when I reached out and picked up the phone on the desk next to my bed.

"Yeah."

The male voice on the other side of the phone replied. "Mason? You up?"

I yawned. "This is her answering machine. Please leave a message."

"Very funny. Listen, we got a call from the school. It's an apparent suicide."

"You do realize that this is my day off, don't you Sam?"

"The Chief wants you on this one, he says it's right up your alley."

"Oh, Christ… What time is it?"

"Eight fourty-six. Get dressed, it's gonna be a long day."

"Right. I'll be there." I rubbed my eyes before I hung up the phone.

Jesus. I knew what he meant when he said "right up my alley." This was indeed going to be a long day.

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TBC