Author's note: What you are about to read is a sequel to the 2012 film Silent Hill: Revelation as well as an adaptation of the game Silent Hill: Downpour, released the same year. The end of Revelation hinted that the plots of Silent Hill 2 and Downpour would be combined. As this story will take place in the AU established by the 2006 Silent Hill film, liberties with the plots and stories of both games will be taken.

Most of all, enjoy!

It had been seven years since Christopher's wife had taken their adopted daughter to Silent Hill to try and find the reason for her sleepwalking and nightmares. Although Rose's car had been found abandoned on the road (along with a motorcycle from the nearby Brahams police department), neither her or their daughter were anywhere to be found.

A few weeks later, Rose had appeared behind Christopher in a mirror in their home.

"I don't have a lot of time," she said. She looked exhausted. Her eyes were wide and had dark bags under them, while her normally loose hair had been slicked back with sweat. Sweat and dirt covered her face.

"I'm trapped here. There's nothing you can do for me. Protect her. She's the one who matters now."

"Why can't you come back?" Christopher asked. He was confused, happy, scared. She walked up to him and draped her arms over his shoulders.

"I found a seal. Part of it is missing. Only one of us could come through," she continued. Christopher could feel the weight of her arms, but when he touched her hand, there was nothing there. Not really.

"I made a choice."

"Where's our daughter?"

"They'll come looking for her. They'll come looking because they need her. Never let them take her. No matter what happens. No matter what you have to do, swear to me you will never let them take her."

"I swear."

"I brought her back to you," she said as she pulled away. "She's yours to care for now."

"Don't go!" Christopher pleaded.

"Goodbye, my love." And she was gone.

He called her name and was answered by a small voice behind him. "Daddy?"

When he turned around, laying on a decorative couch behind him was his and Rose's - though he supposed now just his - daughter Sharon.

"Oh my God, Sharon," he said as he sat down and embraced her. She too looked exhausted, her hair and face in a similar to state to what Rose's had been. "You're safe now," he said and kissed her on the forehead.

"What happened? I don't remember anything."

"It's okay, you're okay. You were in an accident."

"Where's Mommy?"

"Mommy saved you," he said. When she repeated the question, all he could say was, "She's gone."

They spent the next seven years on the run using a series of assumed names. During that time, Christopher had uncovered bits and pieces of the truth behind Silent Hill and the religious Order that had secretly run the town and had been behind the fire that had shut the town off completely thirty years prior.

Eventually the Order had caught up to them and brought Christopher to Silent Hill to lure Sharon there. She arrived, and with the help of one of the creatures that Alessa, the girl who had been burned by the Order that Sharon was a part of, defeated the leader of the Order and slaughtered many of their followers.

Now the two of them, plus the son of the Order's now-late leader, were walking through the middle of town.

The ash that had been steadily snowing on the town came to a gradual stop. As Sharon and Vincent walked hand-in-hand (When did this happen, exactly? he wondered) Christopher slowly came to a stop.

"This is still a place of lost souls," he said.

"What's wrong?" Sharon said. Her and Vincent had stopped and were looking back at him.

With effort, he said, "I can't leave. I'm going to stay and find your mother."

"Let me, let us," Sharon said, gesturing to Vincent, "help you."

"When she brought you back all those years ago, I promised that once you were safe, I would come back and look for her. Now that you're safe, I'm going to keep my promise."

He hugged her the way he had seven years ago when she had first returned to him. "Vincent," he said when they had parted, "you look after my little girl."

"I don't think she needs me for that," Vincent said.

The three laughed, and with one more look back, Sharon and Vincent continued out of town.

The fog swelled up and closed around Christopher.

I'm committed now, he thought as the ash began to fall around him again.

If there was one thing that prison had given Murphy time to do, it was think. Today the topic of thought was his future, or lack thereof. Initially, he had only been sentenced to do three years, and he had been on his way to an early parole release until an alleged incident with a guard had upped his sentence to twenty years and a transfer to a maximum security facility.

Had it been worth it? Only time would tell, but he was beginning to think it wasn't.

He kicked at the thin layer of water that had pooled on his cell floor. That was something that he wouldn't miss, a non-existent comfort if ever there was one.

"Today's the day," said a voice. Murphy looked up from the floor and saw George Sewell, one of the prison guards, standing at his cell door.

"Yes it is," Murphy said.

"Truth be told, we're all going to miss you," Sewell said. He was a thin man with a thin face that reminded Murphy of a weasel while his voice had a permanent tone of condescension to it. "You know the drill."

Murphy held his hands through an opening in the bars while Sewell handcuffed him. When he was done, he called out, "Prisoner secure! Open cell 302 for transfer!" There was a loud buzz and the lock clicked. Sewell pulled it open and Murphy stepped out.

"After you," Sewell said. As they walked, several other inmates called out to Murphy: "I'll see you on the outside," "I won't forget that you owe me," and so on. He ignored all of them. Most were full of shit and he knew that he would probably still be locked up when they got out. He also hadn't made the mistake of putting himself into debt to anyone on the inside. Well, mostly hadn't made the mistake. There was one debt, but it was already paid off and was the reason he was in the situation he was now.

The sky was overcast as Murphy and several other inmates were ferried onto a light blue school bus that had been converted for prisoner transport. At the door of the bus stood a woman with dark sunglasses and her hair pulled back tightly behind her head. A silver badge on her chest read CUNNINGHAM. Though he couldn't see her eyes, her mouth was set in such a way that Murphy knew she was squinting at him.

"Pendleton, right?" she said as he walked by. The two stared at each other for a moment before Murphy nodded. "Get on," she said and Murphy obliged.

"He's all yours, sugar," Sewell said. He smirked, but Cunningham said nothing as she followed Murphy onto the bus.

"Settle in, we've got a long drive ahead of us," the bus driver said as he took off, two police cruisers providing escort.

At some point during the trip, Murphy fell asleep.

He dreamed of the late night when Sewell had come to his cell.

"Come on, cupcake. I've got a surprise for you," he said and opened Murphy's cell. He stepped out into the hall, and Sewell lead him down the hallway to the elevator and rode down in silence. When they reached the bottom, they walked a bit more until Sewell stopped outside of the shower room.

"I left your surprises inside," Sewell said. "Don't take too long."

Murphy nodded and began to push open the door when Sewell said, "By the way. There's cameras in there, but when the water's running, they steam up and you can't see shit. Just FYI."

"Thanks," Murphy said.

The shower room was long and wide. The walls were unadorned concrete while the floor was white tiles with a number of drains on the floor. There were showerheads up either wall with no dividers between. Quickly yet calmly, Murphy turned on all the showers and, as Sewell had said, the room steamed up.

On a bench near the door that Murphy had come through was a large butcher's knife and a length of steel pipe.

How generous, he thought. Picking up both, he went to the middle of the room.

He didn't have to wait long for the doors opposite those he came in through to open. A lone man entered: he was fat with blond hair and was naked save for the white towel wrapped around his waist. The man froze when he saw Murphy. "You're not supposed to be in here."

Murphy said nothing and slowly began to approach the man. "Wait, no. Stop. I'm a sequestered prisoner. There's not supposed to be anyone here. Guard!" the man said.

"No one's coming," Murphy said and struck the man with the pipe. He struck again and again before tossing the pipe aside. The man was bleeding and bruises were beginning to appear where he had been struck. Murphy brandished the knife over the man.

"Who are you? Why are you doing this?" the man sobbed.

"You don't remember me, do you?" Murphy said. The man looked Murphy up and down as best he could and shook his head.

"We used to be neighbors," he said as he drove the knife downward into the main's large gut. The man finally recognized him.

"No, please don't. I'm sorry!"

"It's too late for that," Murphy said.

When he brought the knife down again, Murphy awoke. Freezing rain was now pelting down on the roof and windows of the bus. He kept his forehead on the window and stared out the window at the passing landscape, or what little there was. The most notable thing was a green sign that said "WELCOME TO SILENT HILL."

"Hey, muchacho," said a voice behind him. "I know who you are. Is it true? What they say you did?"

"Shut up," Cunningham said and banged her nightstick on the mesh partition between her, the bus driver, and the rest of the passengers.

"Hey, fuck you," the man said.

"Shut up," she repeated.

Suddenly Murphy lurched forward as the driver slammed on the brakes. The bus side swiped the guardrail then, inexplicably, began to roll. As they rolled, Murphy and the rest of the passengers were tossed around as if they were in a clothes dryer. When they came to a sudden stop, another prisoner crashed into Murphy and he lost consciousness.