Glass littered the street, glistening in the lamp light, scattered in pools of green coolant and streaks of rainbow oil. Sarah Bell stood in shock about six feet from the driver's side of the car, staring into the sedan, where her sister-in-law's body sat slumped unnaturally forward in the dark, covered in a sheet, against the dashboard in the passenger seat. Dark red blood splotched the seats, dashboard, and windshield of the car. Sarah tried hard not to allow her grey eyes to travel to the rear seat of the vehicle as she blinked the rain and tears out, where the blanket-covered baby seat rested, also stained in dark red.

The police had called her phone a few hours earlier and informed her that her sister-in-law and her niece had been involved in a fatal car accident; the incident had been reported by a passing motorist on the highway just outside Silent Hill. She had left in a panic to get to the site.

When Sarah found the scene, she immediately realized they hadn't mentioned her brother, who she assumed had been in the driver's seat. However, Sarah's brother, Jeremiah, was nowhere to be found. No body, no footsteps or trail - only his photograph of himself, his wife, and their child all together was left in the car, wedged in the edge of the speedometer console. There was a lot of blood on the driver 's seat for finding no body. Confused, she had asked the onsite policemen about it. They had said they were assuming he was the driver, as well, but found no signs of him. They also said they were going to perform tests on the blood in the car to determine who's it was.

So, there she stood, staring at the horrific scene in front of her, unable to fathom how this could have happened. The reports said there were no signs of brakes being applied before the crash site - no skid marks on the ground at all. The reports also said he had to be going at least seventy miles per hour. They believed he could have hydroplaned.

'Why wouldn't he even try the brakes?' she thought. 'And how could he have just walked away?'

She shivered - she wasn't sure if it was the surprisingly cold rain for this time of year, or the haunting feeling that lingered at the scene. She could see her breath in puffs of steam.

The police began to question Sarah about her brother and his family, but she had no answers. She hadn't spoken with him in several months. He and his wife and six-month-old daughter, at that time, had moved out of state, and they hadn't kept in close contact for a bit. She had no answers for them about his recent state of mind or home life. One detective, Jim Cartland, gave her his card and told her to call if anything unusual came up. She nodded, silent and still stunned, and proceeded to her car to go back home. A quick thought crossed her mind, and she walked back to her brother's car and snatched the family photo from the dash.

Sarah drove home on autopilot, her straight black hair dripping and drenching the car seat, unable to blink the image of the wreck from her sight. She pulled into a parking spot across the street from her apartment building and parked, shutting off the ignition, where she continued to just sit and think. She dug the photo from the dashboard of her brother's car from her bag and stared hard at it. She couldn't shake the feeling that "accident" wasn't the appropriate word for the situation. Something felt deliberate about it. Jeremiah had never been that kind of person; he had always loved his family - had always cared for them. He'd always been there for her when she reached out. Then he got married, and he became somewhat distant, but understandably so, as he now had a family to care for. She hadn't thought much of his distance at the time, but as she looked back on it, she felt she should have.

'A person couldn't change so much in under a year, could they?' she wondered, studying the family portrait in her hand. 'What happened? Where are you?'

*

The date was June 14, 2014. It had been three years to the day since Sarah's brother disappeared, and the tragic accident. She couldn't help but think about it all day on each anniversary; no matter how hard she tried, something kept nagging at her from the back of her mind. The entire situation still baffled her. It didn't only confuse her; the police department was never able to locate her brother. No word from Jeremiah had ever surfaced to anyone at all. No one spotted him. It was like he just vanished. Sarah tried hard to push it from her mind, and just have a normal day like every other, but it constantly tugged on her. It was especially bad this year. She felt today like the accident was just yesterday. It had also taken place a mere week before her birthday, which she and her brother shared. Birthdays hadn't felt the same or been of any importance to her since he had lost touch. There was no one else to celebrate it with.

Their parents had also been killed in a car accident; it happened when Sarah and her brother were too small to remember them, and they were left in the care of the orphanage in Silent Hill for most of their childhood and teenaged years. They never got picked for adoption, but hardly cared because they had each other. When they both turned of age to leave on their own, they got a place together with help from a local charitable organization. They reveled in the space that was their own, celebrating joint birthdays every year. They lived with each other for several years before finding separate lives. They maintained fairly close contact still, through college life and after. Then Jeremiah met the love of his life and got married, and after the wedding, Sarah didn't hear much from him. She hadn't married, and didn't have any romantic relationships. She barely had any friends that she communicated with on a daily level. She was always more focused on her work. Now she felt the time for those connections had passed.

This day, hard as it may be, Sarah fought past the memory of her loss, and tried to focus on planning something to do for her thirtieth birthday. She thought maybe she needed a vacation, to get away from her almost barren apartment. Sarah's walls were blank, much like she felt her life was. Her only family picture was an old photo of Jeremiah and herself in their first apartment in her wallet - and no art or decor. She kept the photo she had taken from Jeremiah's car in a drawer in her room, buried but treasured at the same time. She couldn't bear to have it out in the apartment.

Sarah had never felt possessions made a home; she never really had much of anything to call her own anyway. The only people she really had contact with were her coworkers, and when she worked at the restaurant, she felt invisible at times. In direct contact, everyone was cordial, but little more than that. She was sure none of them would care to celebrate with her.

Lost in thoughts of birthday plans, she went for the fridge to get a soda. She opened the fridge to condiments and leftovers, but no beverage.

'The only consistency in my life: grocery shopping,' she thought.

Sarah pushed her feet into her black slip on shoes and picked up her keys from the bowl by the door. She left her cool apartment, stepping out into the warmer hallway of the apartment building, and then headed for the elevator. There, a sign stated the elevator was closed. She sighed, and then headed out the door leading to the stairs. Three flights of horribly hot and stuffy staircases down, she headed out of the door that separated the main lobby from the resident's halls. It was much cooler in the lobby than in the halls, and she sighed a small sigh of relief. In the front of the main lobby were the mailboxes. The lobby was painted white and decorated with random landscape photos that made her think she should eventually maybe decorate her own place.

She passed the office's closed door to the mailboxes. As she got closer to the mailboxes, she noticed a piece of paper sticking out of the box for her apartment, apartment number 302. She tried to tug on the corner, but it wouldn't come loose. She didn't want to tear it, so she unlocked and opened her mailbox, pulling the letter out. On the front it simply said "Sarah". The handwriting was hauntingly familiar, but her curiousity pushed the thought aside quickly and she opened it. Inside the envelope was a birthday card. A smile crossed her face at the sight of it, followed by a look of puzzlement as she wondered then who would've sent it. She'd received no cards since her brother's disappearance. And then it hit her like a brick: the writing was her brother's writing. Her hands started to tremble as she slowly opened the card. It read: "Happy 30th birthday, sis! Love, Jeremiah"

Jeremiah. Jeremiah?

Sarah felt lightheaded. She reread the words what seemed like a million times. She realized she must look crazy to people, just standing there staring at the card. She forgot the need of drink and turned back to the hallway, still staring at the name: Jeremiah.

Back in her apartment, the walk back up the stairs seemed like nothing compared to the weight of the thoughts in her head and the panic in her chest. She couldn't just sit; she couldn't just stand. There was another piece of paper inside the envelope. It was an invitation to a joint birthday party, just like the ones they used to have together. In Silent Hill. In three days. On their birthday.

'The detective,' she remembered.

She pulled Detective Jim Cartland's number from her wallet; she had been given the card the day of the accident, and she was glad she had tucked it away instead of tossing it out. He answered nearly immediately, "Detective Jim Cartland."

"Detective... This is Sarah Bell. I just got a birthday card from my brother. He invited me to a birthday party in Silent Hill."

"Miss Bell, you stay right where you are. I don't think it's a good idea for you to go anywhere near that place," Detective Cartland stated. "That place has been abandoned for years, and I highly doubt he is actually residing there. If he is there, he's not in a safe place, and the police should go handle it. They will arrest him on suspicion and bring him in for questioning."

Sarah assured the detective she wouldn't go. When the call ended, she sat and stared at the card and invitation.

'Who else could this be from? Who else knows what happened? Could it really be him? Why would he contact me like this?'

She thought on the card and the "party" all day and half the night. Silent Hill. Their parents' car accident had been in nearly the exact same location. In her parents' case, though, both bodies were found within the vehicle and there were signs of attempted braking. The police reports stated that likely a deer had run out in front of them, and they had swerved to miss it, while they were speeding. This all felt like more than coincidence to her. All thoughts were just more questions leading to more questions.

And the only way to get answers, Sarah decided, was to go to Silent Hill and find her brother.

Maybe if she found him first, she could help him, she thought. If the police find him first, there would be no way she would ever get the right answers. Once again, she picked up the invitation and studied it. The invitation stated that the party was to be held in room 402 of The Grand Hotel in Silent Hill on June 15, 2014, at 2:06PM.

'2:06? What an odd start time...' she thought to herself.

Sarah looked at the invitation, and then looked hard around her apartment. She felt something calling to her to take this journey, to accept this invitation. If her brother was there, maybe he needed her help. Maybe she could feel him calling for help. If she left now, she could be there tomorrow morning.

She dug in the drawer for the picture of her brother's family, and, after quickly packing a few days' things, proceeded to carry her small amount of luggage down all the steps and out to her Jeep. She buckled up, shifted to drive, let out a trembling sigh, and headed on her route to Silent Hill.

A few hours later, the exit sign for Silent Hill came into veiw. The sense of heaviness and dread was almost overwhelming. Just as she was taking the exit, she started to feel a little lightheaded. She shook it off. Then, even though her radio was off, the most ear piercing, loud static began to sound over the radio. She pushed the power button repeatedly, trying to get it to stop, while also trying to turn down the volume. She also caught a glance of her phone's screen with the GPS still pulled up, and it only said, "Rerouting", flipping between three or four different locations on its map. Just then, her dashboard lights quickly flickered, and as she looked up, she saw a figure in the road.

"Jeremiah?!" she cried aloud.

She jerked the steering wheel hard to the left to avoid hitting the man in the road, who looked exactly like her brother. Unable to control the vehicle, it slammed hard into something, and everything went black as Sarah was whipped forward in her seat.

Like a detuned radio, Sarah's consciousness buzzed back in. Hearing moaning and realizing it was coming from herself, she blinked hard, trying to clear her vision. She sat back in her seat, back from her deployed airbag. Her body hurt so bad all over, but she didn't think she had broken anything. She put her hands on her face, and leaned into them, stifling tears and trying to gather her thoughts. After a few moments of collection, she moved her hands and looked around. Her vision had finally cleared, but when she looked around, confusion settled firmly in. The road was covered in white, and white flakes continued to fall from the sky, which baffled her because it obviously does not snow in June. The mist was so heavy she couldn't see more than a mile or two down the road. Her car was wedged directly between two trees, blocking her door and the passenger door.

'Jeremiah!' she remembered aloud.

Sarah shook her head, still clearing foggy vision. She checked her phone for the time; it said it was almost two o'clock. She hoped it was accurate - the screen was still messed up and showing some static. She needed to get out of the car and get going. She grabbed the headrest from the passenger seat, which had long metal pieces for adjusting its height in the seat. Even though her cellphone seemed to be glitching out, she shoved it in her pocket, just in case. She climbed into the back seat to the window behind hers, and covering her face with one arm, she hit the window with the metal ends of the headrest. It cracked but didn't shatter. A few more hard bashes that required much of her energy, and the window finally gave way. She grabbed a blanket she kept in the back window and threw it over the bottom of the broken window, climbing out. She landed with a hard thud in the mud below her, then sat and leaned against the car for a moment to gather the strength she needed. Her head was still a bit fuzzy but it was clearing up. A snowflake landed on her arm and she brushed it away, only to realize it was no snowflake, but it was ash. Ashes were falling from the sky. The ground was covered in it. She stood to her feet and looked back down the road from where she had come. Another stunned look overcame her; the road was completely missing, as if it had just broken off and sunken into the earth. The other side was hidden by mist. The exit sign still stood just a few feet away.

Her mind raced with thoughts, completely confused as to how long she had been knocked out and how she had driven over broken road. With only one direction to go, she turned back toward her car and began to follow the highway, down the exit, hoping somehow there would be someone around to help her. A few minutes of walking later, there stood a sign on the right side of the road; it read, 'Welcome to Silent Hill'.

*

She continued down the road, and she saw no signs of life. Not one chirping bird. No people. The only cars she passed seemed to be abandoned, covered in an untouched, thick layer of ash. She saw no footprints, and heard no traffic noise from any direction. She wondered if she was dreaming. After a minute, buildings came into view as she finally reached the town of Silent Hill. Continuing on straight down the road, which a sign she passed labeled as Simmons Street, she passed a few business fronts; not one seemed to be open. Again, all the cars were covered in a layer of undisturbed dust. The town seemed entirely empty.

"Hello?" she called out in desperation.

She heard a shuffle to her back and saw movement in her peripheral vision. Sarah whirled around, coming face to face with an older woman dressed in dark rags, dark and dirty wrinkles crossing her face. Her dark eyes filled Sarah with dread.

"Why are you here?" the woman demanded.

"I'm-- I'm here searching for my brother," she stuttered. "He asked me to meet him, but I wrecked my car, and I can't seem to find any help--"

The woman interrupted. "There is no help to be found here. Only misery and sorrow."

The woman turned abruptly and began to walk away.

Sarah was at a complete loss for words. The woman had almost vanished completely into the mist when she finally mustered up a voice.

"Can you please tell me which way leads to the Grand Hotel?"

The ragged woman cast her glance back and answered simply with a point in the direction Sarah had been headed, down Simmons Street, and with another step, the woman vanished as if swallowed up by the fog.

Sarah's eyes stared hard into the mist, looking for a shadow, any sign of the woman, but she was completely gone. Her mind was straining to make sense of everything, and it was making her head hurt. Still, she decided her only option was to keep going. She thought if that woman was here, there had to be others. So she continued on down the street, passing several more decaying business fronts and shifting shadows that seemed to follow her until finally she came to a towering building with unlit letters over the front door: The Grand Hotel. It was completely dark and looked as if it had been boarded up, but the boards lay on the ground in front of the door, so she decided to go on in.

The front door of the hotel was heavy as Sarah pulled the door toward her. A wave of mustiness smacked her hard in the face and she coughed. She heard movement inside, but once her eyes adjusted to the darkness inside, she saw nothing and passed it off as likely a rodent, though she had seen no wildlife at all yet, which made her extremely uncomfortable. She called out another hello, but to no reply, halfway stifling one fear while stoking another. She proceeded down the hall, past a straicase on her right, to a big open room in front of her, the lobby. She spotted the reception desk and made her way over.

Tables and chairs were all ash covered, as well as everything else, with not a handprint or shoe print in sight. The room was decorated with ominous looking paintings; they seemed religious in tone. One painting on the wall by the office door seemed to be some kind of symbol, and the symbol filled her with unease. Upon reaching the desk, she noticed a bell. With little hope of an answer, she rang the bell. There was another quiet shuffle in the back of the room, and she turned to look. Still, she saw nothing, so she turned her attention back to the desk. Casting a glance about the lobby one more time, she slid behind the desk. The power appeared to be out, but she picked up the phone anyway; it was, of course, totally dead. It reminded her to check her own phone, but it had no signal. The time read 2:15; she was late. Rifling through the desk with the light from her phone, she found a floor map and a town map. She wished she could call the detective, and was more than starting to regret her decision to come here.

She scanned the floor map, then headed for the elevators on the far side of the lobby. They were out of order.

'Great,' she thought.

She started to head back down the hall toward the front door where she had walked past the stairs. She happened to notice a small key lying on the ground in front of one of the elevator doors. She picked it up, thinking she would give it to the first employee she saw. She continued back down the hallway to the stairs. She finally reached them and started up to the fourth floor. The fire doors were closed on the second and third floors.

When she got to the fourth floor, it was closed as well. She tried the handle and it didn't open. She sighed in exhausted frustration. Then she remembered the key.

'Can't hurt,' she thought, producing the key from her pocket.

Oddly enough, the key fit directly in the hole, and she turned it, unlocking and opening the door. She felt partly lucky, and partly uneasy, like it had been left for her to find.

The corridor was dark; hardly light seeped in from anywhere, barely even from the windows at the ends of the hall, like the sun had set between the time she came into the hotel and the time it took her to reach the fourth floor. She took her first steps into the hall cautiously, and the floor creaked loudly beneath her feet. Her growing unease had started to become fear, but she wanted to push on. She needed to know what was going on.

Glancing at the first door on her right, she saw the number 408, so she continued cautiously down the hallway. Just after she passed room 406, she heard the creaking of a door behind her. She spun on her heels and stared hard into the darkness. She watched carefully a moment, and nothing moved. She slowly turned back to continue walking toward 402, casting concerned glances over her shoulders.

Finally, she reached room 402. She stepped up to the door and slowly raised her hand, knocking lightly on the door. Something stirred at the noise on the other side of the door, and she drew back from it, startled. She waited, but nothing further happened. Unsure of what might be awaiting her on the other side, and hoping against all hope that it was her brother, she stepped forward and rapped the door once more. No response, not even the shuffling from before.

'I've come this far...' Sarah thought to herself.

She slowly reached for the doorknob, turning it and nudging the door open cautiously. The door swung open with a groan; she stepped inside. The dim grey light from outside cast in through the livingroom window. Everything had a layer of dust on it. Then she noticed the foot prints in the dust on the floor. They didn't look like they could be her brother's, upon further inspection. They seemed to lead into the other room, and they looked like they might be from someone who was injured - one foot seemed to be dragging slightly. If there was someone else here, she thought she could find them and help them, and maybe they could help her, or at least tell her what was going on with this place.

She used her phone's flashlight to follow the footsteps from the livingroom down the darker hallway and into the dark bedroom. The bathroom door off the bedroom was closed. Her phone started to hiss static from her pocket. She pulled it out and looked at it; the screen was glitching in various colors, then went to a grey static. She stuffed the phone back in her pocket. As she neared the bathroom, she could hear someone moving inside. A feeling of unease, or maybe fear, came over her the closer she got, and she found herself creeping toward the door silently and afraid to breathe, but she had to know who was here. She reached the door, reached for the knob, turned it, and gave the door a little shove. In the darkness was a figure in a short white lab coat - a nurse, on realization. She felt relief for a moment and almost started to speak, but the longer she looked at her she realized something was horribly wrong.

"Ma'am?" she said aloud, quietly and hesitantly.

The nurse - the thing - whirled around to face her, and an involuntary, horrified scream rose from her throat. It's face - it had no face, it was just a mangled mess of twisted swaths of flesh. The veins that ran through the monster were deep blue and dark purple, almost bulging out of its skin. It's movements were jarring and inhuman as it began to stumble toward Sarah. It's hand waved wildly in her direction, wielding what appeared to be a giant syringe. Sarah staggered backwards in horror, dodging the creature's wild swings. She wheeled around and tripped over a chair, falling hard to the floor. The nurse-thing lunged at her, landing on top of her. Sarah grabbed the nurse's wrist, pressing the creature's hand back with all her strength as the thing kept pushing to drive the needle of the syringe into her face. She looked around her in desperation, and her eyes fell on a piece of glass from a broken mirror on the wall next to her. She fumbled for it, stretching her fingers as far as she could, finally grasping it firmly in her hand. She cried aloud, making her own wild swing at the neck of the creature. She caught it flush, burying the glass deep into its neck. The nurse let out a horrible scream, a very human scream, and it collapsed off of her and back onto the floor, writhing in pain and gripping at its neck and the glass. It twitched on the floor, choking out a few blood filled breaths, then moved no more. Her phone fell silent. Sarah sat and stared at the thing in horror, unable to process what just happened.

She stumbled clumsily to her feet, her legs wobbly. She backed out of the room, her eyes not leaving the body, waiting for it to move again, until the bed touched her calves and her legs collapsed her on the edge of the queen-size bed there. Her mind raced, and then a loud, clear air raid siren began to sound. The sound sent chills up her spine, and her whole body began to shake with fear as the walls began to slough off to the floor. The paint cracked and peeled, then the drywall beneath splintered, then began to melt away in chunks, the siren rising and falling all the while. A scream stifled in her throat. She pulled her feet up onto the bed and watched in horror as the entire room melted around her, revealing rusted metal framing and broken fencing underneath. The temperature seemed to raise, hotter and hotter until it felt like an industrial factory, and she suddenly felt very faint. Her panicked breaths weren't enough air for her, and everything started to fade away to blackness as her eyes closed and she passed out on the bed.

Sarah came to with a start, bolting upright. She swiveled her head around, realizing she was still sitting on the bed and everything was a calm grey again, but seemed less dusty. She leaned forward and peered into the bathroom. There was nothing there now - no twisted, grotesque monster on the floor. She laid back on the bed and closed her eyes, bring her hands to her face, and breathed a sigh of tentative relief.

'Did I imagine that whole thing?' she questioned.

She laid there staring at the ceiling for a while, trying to gather her racing thoughts.

"Oh! hey! You're awake."

The voice scared her upright again, instinctively pulling her knees to her chest and backing across the bed. Her eyes landed on a man in the doorway with a glass of water in his hand. His frame was slender but muscular - toned, at least. He was slightly taller than her; his short black hair was parted to the side, and his face was framed by a well kept beard. He wore a blue plaid button up shirt and some light blue jeans, and it seemed odd to see someone so normal looking in this place after seeing no other life since she had gotten here. His dark eyes had a softness behind them that eased her a bit, and she relaxed her posture a bit. He seemed to notice and took it as invitation to walk over to her.

"Water?" He extended his arm toward her, holding out the glass.

She looked him over once more, then nodded slightly. She took the glass and took a sip. The water was like heaven, perfectly cold and delicious. She sighed aloud after the sip, and he chuckled a bit.

"Thanks," she said, still hesitant. "I'm Sarah."

Then it donned on her as she glanced around, and it made her feel awkward: "Am I in your room?"

He chuckled again. "I came home and found you here. I tried to wake you, but you were in a really deep sleep, and, no offense, but you looked like you needed it, so I just left you alone. I'm Joel, by the way."

She felt her face flush a little, slightly embarrassed. "I came here looking for someone. I got into a wreck just outside of town, and I had to walk to town, and I haven't seen many people since then. I came across a lady , but she was really weird, and I haven't been able to find anyone else to help me. How long was I out?"

"Yeah, there's a few of us around. The town has been mostly abandoned because of the fires, but a few of us appreciate the quiet, and we chose to stay. It's home, ya know?" he replied. "You wrecked your car? How badly? Are you okay? I've been here for a few hours, but I'm not sure when you got here. I was gone last night."

Sarah's mind flashed images of the thing in the bathroom and the melting walls, but she shook them off. She decided that sometimes being scared and alone can make your eyes play tricks on you, and that must have been what happened. Maybe her wreck had messed her head up worse than she had thought.

"Yeah, I feel okay today. I think I may have gotten a nice bump and a slight concussion. I think that's how I wandered myself in here," she said. "I'm sorry, again."

"It's not a problem. Are you sure you're okay? Would you like to borrow some of my clothes? We can run yours through the washer," Joel offered.

She looked down at herself; her clothes and shoes were still muddy from getting out of the car, and she had gotten it all over his bed.

"I'm so sorry-"

"No, its totally fine. Look, you can shower and everything if you want," he continued, walking over to a set of drawers.

She saw him pull out another plaid shirt, a green one, and a pair of sweatpants with a drawstring, and a pair of crew socks. He pushed the drawer shut and brought them over in a small stack on the foot of the bed, topped with a fresh towel.

"Um, if you need anything, I'll be right out here," he said, motioning toward the door.

She nodded, and as he walked out, she said, "Thanks, again."

"Don't mention it," Joel replied, nodding a smile in her direction before closing the door on his way out.

Her mind danced over thoughts of what she remembered happening and how it couldn't have happened. There was power to this room - there was a lamp on in the corner, and apparently a running washer. Why had there been no power to the rest of the building? Had she just been mistaken?

She checked her phone; it was almost three o'clock in the afternoon on Thursday. She rolled her shirt over her head and laid it aside, followed by her muddy jeans and everything else, then headed to the shower. She cautiously peeked her head into the bathroom and flicked on the light switch; there was nothing in there but a shower with a two-in-one shampoo/conditioner, a bar of soap and a couple washclothes, and a sink with a cup with a toothbrush in it and a comb on the sink. She showered quickly; the warm water was comforting.

Grabbing up the plaid and slipping it on over her undershirt, she dropped her muddy jeans into the middle of the bed, rolling the mud up inside them to make as little more of a mess as possible, and then put on the sweatpants, which fit surprisingly well. She sat down on the corner of the bed and put on the socks, then stood back up and gathered up her clothes within the sheets and pulled them all to the floor. She rinsed her shoes off in the sink and set them on the edge of the tub to dry, then picked the wad of sheets and clothes up and proceeded to the livingroom.

Joel awaited her in the kitchen.

"How are you feeling? Are you hungry? I was just about to make some lunch," he stated.

"I could eat," she said, glancing around the room.

The room was lit by the bright sunlight coming in the window. It was a fairly plain room with white walls and grey carpet. Pictures of the town adorned a few of the walls. The room looked far nicer and lived in then she thought it had before. She wandered over to the dining table, thinking to herself, again, that she needed to decorate her apartment.

Joel grabbed some sandwiche stuff out of the fridge and brought to her at the table. She made herself a small turkey and mayo sandwiche, and Joel did, too.

She swallowed her bite. "So, what do you do here?"

"I'm a writer," he replied. "I come here to write a lot. The atmosphere helps me, and the town gives me a kind of inspiration."

She nodded. "It is definitely quiet."

They made a bit of idle chatter while finishing their lunches. Sarah then stood up and took her plate to the sink, grabbing a mug of coffee Joel offered and leaning against the counter.

"I appreciate all your help and everything, but as soon as I get my clothes back, I need to continue searching this town. I came here to find my brother," she told him.

"Yeah, no problem. I can offer to help you look, if you want. I've been here a few times, and I'm fairly familiar with the town," Joel offered, standing and also bringing his plate over. "One last time, I promise; are you sure you're okay?"

He ran water over the plates in the sink, and her eyes ran him up and down. She admitted to herself she found him fairly attractive, and it might not be a bad idea to have someone accompany her who was familiar with the area, but she didn't want to get distracted, and she didn't want to be here any longer than she had to. She felt safe in this room, and she subconciously dreaded leaving it, but there was still something off about this whole place. She didn't know this man, and she was weary about putting her trust into him.

"I think I'm okay. I really appreciate the offer, but I think this is something I need to do on my own," she said.

"Hey, I understand. Just thought I'd put it out there."

They lingered at the dining table a bit more. After putting her clothes in the dryer, he told her about some of the notable locations in town. He began to tell her of the cult that once populated the town.

"They call themselves The Order," he said. "They used to be really bad. They were known for making sacrifices and stuff to resurrect their God. The whole town is full of lore about them. But these days they aren't around much. There's a small group of them left in a church here in town, but they don't do that crazy stuff anymore. They're usually pretty quiet and keep to themselves. They aren't anything to worry about."

She nodded slightly, sipping her coffee. The dryer buzzed, making her jump. Joel excused himself and went to the dryer, returning to her with her clean clothes. She thanked him, and he offered her his room once more to change. She headed off to dress, and she grabbed her phone off the nightstand, shoving it back into her pocket.

Once finished, she stepped back out, feeling more like herself in her own clothes.

"Again, thank you so much for being so hospitable. I really don't know exactly how I got in here. That wreck must have rung my bell a lot worse than I thought," she reasoned. "I do need to contact a towing company, probably, for my car..."

She remembered the broken road. It had to be something she imagined.

"Yeah, um, let me see if I can find my phonebook," Joel said.

He rummaged around in a couple drawers in the kitchen. He found it, then headed over to a small end table in the corner. On it sat a landline phone; it looked so odd to her because everyone had their own cellphone these days, and she hadn't seen an actual wired handset in so long.

'Of course its a landline. This town is so quaint,' she thought to herself.

She made the call to the local towing company, and the line rang through to an answering machine. She left a brief message, hoping they would return the call. Joel said if they did, he'd send them to her car.

"Thank you, again, for everything you've done for a total stranger," Sarah said, walking toward the front door.

"Really, it's no problem. I would only hope someone would do the same for me," Joel replied, joining her at the door.

He opened it for her, and she said thanks one more time before stepping out into the hall.

"Hey," he called after her. "If you need anything, you know where to find me."

Sarah nodded and thanked Joel again, then continued back down the hallway to the stairwell door.

Alone with her thoughts, she began to try to process what all had just happened. With the invitation being a dead end to some random guy's apartment, she wondered what she should do next. She decided maybe she should get to the Silent Hill police station. If anyone could help her, it had to be them.

She noted all the lights were on all the way down the stairwell, and even in the big lobby. She shook her head at herself, wondering how she had gotten things so twisted. There was an attendant at the front desk now.