Silent Hill: Red Sands

by VampireQueenAkasha

Post WWII. It is funny what war will do to you; it can make you crazy, make you hallucinate, but sometimes, it can even bring you to remember the monster your mind doesn't want you to remember. Sin will catch up to you in various forms.

1. Prologue

Silent Hill: Red Sands

Disclaimer: Now let me begin by saying that this is an entirely original idea that came from watching quite a bit of WWII videos and propaganda. Know that this story is all my own save for Silent Hill's original creations by Konami. There may be sensitive topics in here that require sensitive responses and reviews to those who may or may not have dealt with WWII personally. I don't know if you have grandparents or great grandparents who have, but know that I mean no kind of disrespect to them whatsoever. I understand that this topic must be tread upon carefully, so I will do so in that way.

"Pain is temporary. It may last a minute, or an hour, or a day, or a year, but eventually it will subside and something else will take its place. If I quit, however, it lasts forever."

-Lance Armstrong

"Remember that all through history the way of truth and love has always won. There have been tyrants and murderers and for a time they seem invincible but in the end, they always fall - think of it, ALWAYS."

-Mahatma Gandhi

By: VampireQueenAkasha

"You see it too? For me, it's always like this."

-Angela, Silent Hill 2

Prologue

Dead men, dead men

swinging in a tree

How many dead men

do you see?

Tongue turned blue and

face gone grey

Watch them as they

twist and sway

The first one killed

the butcher man

Then cooked him in

the frying pan

Served him to his hungry guests

And gave them seconds on request

The next one with his smile

and sweets

Stole poor children off the streets

To men who dressed unsavory

He sold them into slavery

Breaking into home at night

The thief he had a nasty fright

Filled his foolish head with ale

Woke in the morn

in the county jail

The artist with his daunting skill

Tried his hand at painting bills

But caught in rain he was undone

When the ink he's use did

start to run

With promises of great return

Taking gold he did not earn

Bundled it up out of sight

Quietly slipped off into night

Three houses into ashes burned

The sheriff with no place to turn

Did spy a stranger to his town

Locked him up and beat him down

Dead men, dead men

swinging in a tree

How many dead men

do you see?

Six feet long and

six men wide

Round their necks

the noose be tied

"Dead men, Dead men"

SH: 2