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...:::Silent Hill:::...
..::{Vague and Morbid Silhouettes}::..
Prologue
.:The Shadow of Silent Hill:.
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The grave and chilling silence hung all around the mist; choking it; girdling it; corroding it. Not a sound could break the eerie and dreadful nothingness of isolation. Not a single thread of light tore through the gray and unwelcoming mist, and my vision was of horrid sights that blurred my sanity in the void of insanity; cheating my eyes into perceiving such things that were not of the necessity of our reality. Yet, of course, this was only a dream. I knew, for the things that I had seen were of things that only drew breath in dreams and nightmares; subjects merely a faux to the reality in the conscious and waking world. It's the things that you cherish the most that are lost in the grim shadows of the past, and some form of Deity laughs and makes a mockery of you by deranging the cherished things into delusional madness in which propels you into a nightmarish world feasting on fears.
Nevertheless, I accepted these dreams filled with anguish and turmoil, hatred and catastrophe, and of things psychological that bend and twist to form some sort of reality that truly was the beginning phases of the mind processing into insanity. However, I do not doubt many would tremble fearfully because they lack the knowledge of how the brain truly functions, and the content of the fear begetting their reluctance to pursue for answers is why they linger on in this ignorance.
My dear reader, can your mind conceive of the things that I had to see, hear, touch, and smell? Would it truly grasp the concept of fear for what I felt in these dream-like worlds that flourished mutated and distorted figures symbolic to inner fears and wretched sins? Of course not, for we all comprehend the concept of fear in ways that we can never truly explain to others, let alone explain to ourselves.
I had been sitting on a curb of a sidewalk, isolated in this eerie fog, and looking up slowly at my surroundings, the thick and heavy mist cloaked all around the buildings and homes; contrasting their images into horrid, dark, and twisted faces that overlooked me in utter despise. Truly was I disturbed by the expression that I was unwelcome in this place, yet I held no knowledge of another I could venture forth to. Why this place was so isolated from its habitants, I could not guess. For even life itself seemed to neglect this poor excuse of a town. What kind of town was Silent Hill anyway, I thought, and what was its history— or at least some of the history that dragged the town into this poor and frightening reputation it had, which one thing Silent Hill has been notorious for is being haunted; a place where many people have disappeared to and never heard of again. Surely there must have been answers, but at the moment it seemed too soon to be enlightened of Silent Hill's past. Although I've said this was nothing more than a dream, the town itself was a real place in the waking world— a tourist attraction at one time before all the strange disappearances occurred.
"You're here, too?" came a sudden voice from behind, the tone hinting surprise.
Startled at first because I believed from the start I was the only one in the place, I whirled around to find a woman standing there. She might've been in her early or mid thirties, looking frail and shy despite physical appearance of maturity; her copper-brown eyes depicted deep guilt probably acquired after committing one or more crime done in the past— any soul greeted in this realm of the town should be considered as a lost being drawn to this place because of the 'skeletons in the closet', so to speak. Her pale skin made her long black hair stand out, which gave her a ghostly appeal that I almost considered her as the walking dead, and could bluntly see her arms and wrists had crudely stitched cuts that still bled onto the empty street she stood in the middle of. Her voice sounded soft, too soft and drowned in shyness, yet suspiciousness drifted from her like an aura of negativity sweeping over me, for there had been a partial sharpness to her tone that seemed to physically manipulate facial expression; her brows dipped at the joining point and eyes flashed a glare, which immediately I knew this woman didn't trust me one bit.
"What?" I say, my face frowning in expression before adding, "Why so surprised— is there a reason for me not to be here in my dream?"
"I've never assumed this place would lure one so young here before," the woman then said, keeping her distance while circling me before she chuckled softly and added, "So what makes you so sure that this is a dream?"
Silence had answered, the woman briefly chuckling again while shaking her head— obviously, she knew something that I didn't and found humor in this advantage— and then asked, "How old are you?"
"Seventeen," I responded slowly, watching her nervously by keeping distance from her as well, and then became curious enough to ask for her name, yet she did not answer as soon as expected. She stopped in place with arms crossed loosely and then her expression darkened when flashing another suspicious glare, which I found odd because she had no problem doing the questioning until it became my turn to ask things.
"Alice," she answered after the mild moment of reluctance waned. "Now, where did you come from?"
"I..." My voice faltered when I tried to answer and then a question stirred within me: Where did I come from? How did I end up here?
This had to be a dream, my reader— this had to be just another dream. Why...oh, why couldn't I remember? Needless to say, I'm certain this has never happened in my dreams of this place before; for I don't ever recall seeing an Alice, let alone being in this particular location of the town. I couldn't really be here— now at this very moment? My thoughts were broken when Alice turned herself around to where her back now faced me and then heard her talking to herself as if speaking to another beside her.
"She doesn't remember. She's the one by the tree… Yes, I'm sure of it. She's the one that..." Her voice trailed off into low murmurs until she turned her gaze back on me with a wide grin corrupted by the look of insanity displayed on expression, and she started to laugh, the laughter borne throughout the whole town; echoing through the narrow alleys and empty streets.
"Please— enlighten me from ignorance with a thorough explanation: what the hell do you mean that I'm the one by the tree?" I asked, trying to stay calm from her strange behavior that greatly disturbed and frightened me.
She tilted her head to the side with that grin of hers, giggling like a mischief before her voice took a melodic tone and sung in slight whispers:
"In the dark night,
People gather for relinquish of their sins.
Tired to bother with the sounds
That seem eerie all-around.
Ones who enter through the gates
End in madness and horrible fates.
Silent Hill calls to those
Who have regretted their past.
Darkest secrets unfold to them,
Whispers saying bloody omens.
Tired to bother with the sounds
That…seem…eerie…all-a-round."
She giggled and laughed before repeating to sing the little song, vanishing through the thick mist. I called out for her, but the only response was quite obvious when her laughter died down into complete silence after the third echo of "all-a-round" was whispered, for it was silence itself in which clearly substituted and emphasized her reclusive nature, yet in the end her silence made it blunt for me to know she wanted to keep me in ignorance. My heart had been beating wildly while all this had happened, and I could not bring myself to move from my spot. I was alone— again.
What did she mean though, that I was the one by the tree, I had questioned. Perhaps that is where I must've come from before, I suppose, amnesia wooed me and brought me here. When my heart was beating at a steady pace, I reluctantly dragged myself away from the sidewalk's curb, entering through the gray mist in which shrouded my every sight and memory.
***
I mumbled in realization about the town truly being vacant of its people— except for that eccentric Alice and me, and then resumed kicking small stones from the road while trudging along its side. This place was growing more peculiar and ominous by the minute, for if it wasn't the brain's delusional tendency to corrupt perception and derange what it could comprehend as figment of imagination, then truly does this town hide a malicious element that manipulates reality by its own will. I could've sworn I heard strange sounds that were truly not conceived by the human imagination, for what deranged mind has the endurance to create such unfathomable things and bequeath them with limited intelligence? I'd rather not know the answer, perhaps it would not be to my taste nor would it comfort me the same.
A cold and brief chilling wind passed over and manipulated my red curls in a wave of flickering fire, and to my utter terror, a sound of some sort of premature monstrosity formed at the start of insanity's border shaken my heart and mind with thoughts rummaging like waves collapsing on top of one another. Already had the darkness begun, for it swept my troubled mind with revolting images that symbol my most inner fears. It came...it came to me. Oh, what wretched creature had I birthed from my magnificent and beautiful mind. Oh, how I felt like Frankenstein when he had given life to an existence never meant to be a part of our reality, nor did its presence be comprehended by our reality's force and will to cope with its horrid visage.
It made deep, blood-curdling sounds, and one would think it were someone choking on their own blood, but little would one think that it was the very symbol of their anguish. This abomination— this mockery teasing of what was left of my sanity— stepped forth for my unwilling eyes to behold and I shuddered at this strange and blasphemous sight that chilled me to the bone. This disfigured mutation had been given life as some perverse hallucination; the body's form wasn't completely proportioned right—it was like an abstract of whirling madness. All of its skin was torn and mortally scarred with several areas around its left arm, torso, and back stitched crudely, and it even looked as if someone stitched its face carelessly and poorly because whoever did stitched it too far on its right; its right eye stitched closed with the left far too close to where its ear would've been. Both eyes were wide and bobbled with its jagged teeth snapping and chattering as if a great wisp of a bitter winter's cold swept over it. The torso was long and extremely thin to where I could see its ribs bulging from what little flesh had to hide; thin enough to see its black veins that could not course blood throughout its entire stature. Its arms were long and its hands large with boney fingers. Its right hand was holding a rope, and I heard something being dragged at the end.
To my disgust, I smelt the rotting carcass of what looked to be a female that had the other end of the monster's rope tied around her neck. Her body was also in poor condition as if savaged dogs torn the flesh to shreds and mutilated her face to the point that identification was impossible. This creature stopped and looked at me, its skin decaying with crusted blood, and strange-looking insects with facial expressions similar to a human's burrowed in and out of its flesh. When this creature walked it was like hearing the low rumbling of distant thunder in an approaching storm, and the sickening stench emitting from its body made me wonder how I lived through its degrading existence. It seemed indifferent to my presence and stood there with those frighteningly large eyes that could not correctly stare at me, for they wobbled and bobbled around as if attached to springs, making it difficult to remain affixed.
"Sssshiiiiide," I had heard the creature hiss in a ghastly whisper in which startled me.
I didn't understand, then suddenly heard a siren blaring, and when looking away for a moment and then turning back the creature was gone; vanished. I do not know, my dear reader, if he was to be considered as friend or foe, but acknowledged that he was warning me of something— what could it have been?
It almost sounded like hide— but if so…why?
The siren blared three more times, and indecision occurred when I thought about remaining there or to just linger out further into the fog in which clouded my sight. All was quiet after the siren stopped, and a sickening feeling grew within my stomach like a fetus maturing in its mother's womb ailed me into a moment of faintness. Glancing at the buildings, I witnessed their gloomy stares changing into dark and twisted sanctuaries for the Darkness that soon swept Silent Hill. It all happened so quickly though. The road— the town…
Where was I— what was happening?