Chapter 1:

The first thing Harry Mason was aware of was the pain in his head. He let out a loud groan and gently pressed a hand against his temple, pulling away at the feel of dry, crusty blood. He carefully examined his hand, flakes of crusty blood rested on the palm of his hand. Carefully, Harry prodded at his head again and let out a hiss as pain cut through his temple.

The wound didn't seem all that bad, then again, he wasn't a doctor. He was an author, going on a vacation with his daughter-

Cheryl. James spun around and he looked into the backseat. It was empty, Harry's head shot back to the front seat and his stomach dropped; the passenger side door was open. Harry looked into the backseat one last time, just to be sure that he hadn't somehow overlooked his daughter. There seemed to be no sign of her ever being in the car at all.

Feeling the beginning of panic creep over him, Harry unbuckled his seatbelt and pulled the latch on the driver's side door. He shoved it open and climbed out. His first few steps were a bit clumsy, and Harry had to force himself to slow down a bit, so that he would not stumble and fall. Harry glanced at his car and felt the panic that had swooped over him grow. The jeep was totaled, the hood was crimped real bad. A thick, brown smoke rose into the air, contrasting with the white fog.

Fog? In spring? Slowly, Harry looked around himself. Yes, it was in fact fog that surrounded him. Snow slowly swirled down from the sky, yet there was only a light chill in the air, as if it were not the right temperature for snow. What the hell was going on?

Taking several deep breaths to calm himself, Harry turned back in the direction he had been driving before the car accident and began to walk , trying not to move too fast. Now that he was on his feet, he felt light headed and nauseous.

Harry slowly shook his head and told himself to take his mind off of his own self. Cheryl was out there somewhere; alone and afraid. Hopefully she hadn't been picked up by some kiddy fiddler or something. Harry was always afraid of something like that happening to Cheryl. If it did, he knew that he wouldn't be able to live with himself. Harry took a deep breath and once again told himself to stop thinking about such things; he had to focus on Cheryl.


Harry's fear and worry only heightened as he came close to the town-Silent Hill, he'd seen the sign, shortly before the motorcycle cop.

Harry felt his mind turn back to that, the motorcycle cop had driven by them, had even given Harry a small wave. And then, maybe ten minutes later he had driven past her bike; it had been dumped on the side of the road.

Pulling himself away from that problem for a moment, he returned to what he was supposed to be doing, finding Cheryl. Harry looked around. He was now in town, standing on the corner of an intersection. But the fog was so thick, the only thing he could see in any direction was the faint outlines of buildings. Harry rubbed at his arms and took a shaky breath, the temperature was now noticeably low and he was miserable. He had never liked cold weather.

"Cheryl...where are you?" Harry called out, hoping he would somehow be able to summon her. His voice was muffled by the thick fog, but he waited, hoping that she just might have heard him. All he got was silence. Harry looked around himself. For the first time, he noticed the lack of people. Even in small towns, there was usually traffic, or you could find some people on the sidewalks. But here there was nothing. Harry pondered silently on this.

And then he heard it: the click clack of shoes against asphalt. Harry's head turned in the direction of the noise. Even though the sound was muffled, it was quite clear that it was coming from his right. Harry turned in that direction, and jogged down the sidewalk, looking left and right, attempting to catch a glimpse of the source of the clicking and clacking.

When he he caught sight of the source, Harry came sliding to a halt, breathing deeply (he had never been an athletic person). In the middle of the street, a little girl walked. Harry squinted his eyes, trying to catch a glimpse of any kind of details that might help him identify the child. But really, he didn't need any details, he already knew it was her.

"Cheryl?" She never looked back, but instead quickened her pace, speeding up into a run. Fear slipped into Harry's blood. What would make his daughter run from him?

"Chery! Stop!" Harry ran, following his child. But no matter how hard he tried, Harry was unable to catch up with her, when he had always been able to outrun her. Suddenly, Cheryl darted to the left, and down an alleyway. Harry followed without hesitation, calling out to her.

"It's me! Cheryl, it's daddy!" This seemed to have no effect; if anything, Cheryl only seemed to run faster. When she reached the end of the alleyway, Cheryl cut left again, and disappeared from Harry's sight. He heard the sound of a chain link gate opening, then slamming shut. Harry quickly rounded the corner and crashed into the gate, slamming it open and continuing his wild sprint.

The Alley curved to the right, to the right again, and to the left. Harry followed it quickly, trying to catch up with Cheryl before she ran off somewhere else.

And then the light faded. Not all at once, but it only took a second for Harry to realize this, and he felt his pace falter, then stop all together. His head whipped up to the fog-covered sky, searching for an explanation for the sudden loss of light. When he found nothing, he let his head drop back to the alleyway.

The light had gone out entirely, and Harry was surrounded by a heavy darkness. The only sound he could hear was that of his heavy, labored breathing. Harry stuffed his hands into his pockets and pilfered around for his Bic lighter. He'd quit smoking the four years ago, but he had never stopped carrying the cigarette lighter; it had been a gift from his wife.

When Harry finally found the lighter with his prodding fingers, he let out a sound of small joy, and he yanked it out. He flicked it open, and spun the wheel, there was a spark, and the small flame illuminated a space of a foot around Harry.

"...Better than nothing, I guess." He muttered to himself. He held the lighter up, and moved slower than before, so as not to blow out the flickering flame.

The alley curved left again, and Harry followed it quietly, his footsteps muffled, even in this eternal darkness. What he saw around the corner made him stop short with the gag. Around the corner, the alley was stopped by a chain link fence, topped with barbed wire. Blood pooled on the ground below it, and the crimson liquid covered the fence as well.

Hanging on the fence, hanging by it's wrists, was the severed torso of a dead body.

Harry felt his gut tie itself in a knot, and he took a step back. Something grabbed him by the leg.

Harry let out a yell of horror and surprise and he spun around, feeling his stomach drop once again. Stumbling at him were two small figures. They appeared to be children, covered from head to toe in sacks. In their wrapped hands, were knives, large carving knives.

Harry panicked. His feet moved without his mind's command. He ran past the...things and sped back down the alley, the way he had come. It was a wonder that his lighter didn't go out. He rounded one of the corners he had taken on his way into the alley, and slammed into a large fence, one without a gate. It hadn't been there when he had come down here, but it had hemmed him in.

Harry turned around, and saw the two creatures, with their knives, stumbling clumsily at him. Without thinking, Harry tried to once again barrel past them. One cut his leg, the other gripped his ankle, and Harry fell to the floor. His head slammed into the concrete below him. He saw stars, and in the distance, he heard sirens.

Then a different kind of darkness overtook him, and he drifted away.


AN: So, was that any good? Does it capture the game well? Let me know what you think by hitting that little review button (I love hearing what y'all think), and I will see you all next time.

~Exangellion