Chapter Two

Silent Hill: Corruption

(Heads up, I will likely be tweaking what little I've been able to find on the layout for Toluca Prison. There are some places essential to the operation of a prison that I was unable to find online. So if you spot some discrepancies with the Silent Hill games there, that's why.)

Tell me again why I keep crawling through holes this morning? thought Diana, hugging her guns to her chest as she squeezed through the narrow opening. At least this isn't as small as the last one. She was grateful when she managed to finally get her head through to the other side and twisted her face up to look around her before pulling the rest of herself through. She felt vulnerable when she was in the hole because there wasn't enough room to maneuver. If an inmate were to find her in that position… well, there was no way she'd be able to get away from them fast enough with her arms effectively pinned to her sides.

But now, now she found herself in the courtyard, scratching her scalp. There was no sign of the person or animal that scuttled through the wall just before her, and once again it was deathly quiet. There's something about that kind of silence that gets into your blood, seeps into your pores and dampens every sound you make. It's as if the urge to preserve the quiet was instinctive, and Diana felt that inexplicable desire to stay hushed as she surveyed the scene around her. It was still foggy, and Diana could only see in front of her about ten or fifteen feet at a time. Breathing in the air made her feel like she was trying to inhale cold soup. Uncomfortable, the weight of the atmosphere sat heavily on her chest.

Part of her wanted to shout aloud and to see if anyone else was around, but something in her held back. In no doubt now that Toluca Prison was facing some kind of crisis, she didn't want to reveal her hand so soon. There was a good chance the element of surprise would come in handy. Question is, before whatever the hell it was went down, had anybody managed to get off a call to the warden? He'd have been able to call in extra disturbance control teams from other facilities in the area, even the local constabulary if it were bad enough. And it had to be bad enough. Those holes had to be new, and as they were a breach in the outer wall, anybody could have gotten out- or in, like she herself had. Her mind began to entertain the idea that someone had launched an attack on the prison from outside and now held the rest of the staff hostage. She frowned at the idea. That scenario still left too many unanswered questions.

"For one, what happened to the control officer? There's no way anyone without authorization could have made it that far," she whispered to herself, creeping along the wall in the direction that would lead her to the hallway which housed the entrance to the cell blocks and the showers. Of course, she'd probably have to deal with the problem of a locked door again, but she'd worry about that when she got to it. She proved herself right when she got to the door, for there was no way that steel monstrosity was going to open without a key. Normally, an inconvenience like that would have simply made her roll her eyes, but the oppressive silence and overall weirdness of her day had her so stressed that instead she kicked the door in her frustration.

"Ugh," she grunted, placing her booted foot back on the ground. Her toes still smarted, even though she had steel toes in her boots. She counted herself lucky that she was allowed to wear them, but another part of her brain flickered back a memory of another officer she wished had not been allowed to…

Two weeks into the job, she'd been pegged to pull a mandatory overtime double shift, and for once, she'd actually gotten to see this place in the daylight. It was exhausting working for another either hours after having been up all night, be she didn't really have problem with it. This was just the kind of workplace that always had to be staffed. After all, they could hardly shut down everything at five and let everyone go home for the night while leaving the inmates to their own devices. And sometimes, they were just too bloody short staffed. Somebody had to be there.

That day she'd noticed a rag hanging from the nearest security camera. After reporting it to her supervisor, she'd reached up to pull it off and heard muffled cries of pain coming from the other end of the courtyard. Hidden behind a bench in one corner, she saw Officer Blackstock kicking an inmate that lay curled on the ground in the fetal position.

"Hey, knock it off!" she cried out, reaching a hand forward to pull him back. "What the hell do you think you're doing?"

Blackstock yanked his arm out of her grasp and glared at her, and her eyes quickly spotted blood on the tips of his steel toed boots. His lips curled up in a sneer and he put his hands on his hips, wordlessly daring her to do something about it. Then his face softened into an expression of utmost condescension.

"Can it, Rookie," he'd snapped at her. Rolling his eyes he crossed his arms over his substantial midsection while the inmate moaned piteously on the floor. "You don't know what you're talkin' about and you don't have any idea what was goin' on here, anyway. This one was disrespectin' me and I was just puttin' him back in his place. Gotta maintain order, after all. Can't have these rejects getting' out of hand and hurtin' a sweet little thing like you, can we?"

Diana arched a frosty brow at him as she reached for her radio. "Just so you now," she told him, "I'm no Rookie. I've done this job elsewhere, at another prison. And I happen to know what you were just doing is illegal. I'm reporting you to the captain for this. Don't think you can get out of it."

Fury soon replaced condescension on Blackstock's face as he lunged at her, arms swinging wildly. Dropping her radio, she caught one of his hands in hers and forced his wrist back while she sidestepped, causing him to squeal in pain. A wrist lock never, ever felt good. Forcing him to the ground, she put her knee painfully between his shoulder blades, digging in any time he so much as twitched. Diana leaned her face down to whisper in his ear, "Oh by the way, the captain is sure to know by now already. That camera you covered up to keep your little 'lesson' private? Yeah, I took the rag off that before I came for a peek. You're screwed, period."

She'd held him until the responding officers arrived, but didn't quite get the reaction she expected. Because the incident had been recorded thanks to her smart actions, they were forced to fire Blackstock. Rumor has it, he was probably facing charges too, but so far she hadn't been issued any subpoenas or contacted by a lawyer. The incident turned out to be the beginning of the schism between her and the rest of the staff. Turns out, Blackstock was nephew to the warden, and the warden didn't take too kindly to her getting one of his kinfolk fired. Everyone else was just mad at her for rocking the boat, since they knew that the supervisors were all going to be pissed now.

So, even though she was given a public commendation for her actions, privately they all set out to make her life hell. Every distasteful little chore, every nasty surprise they could drop in her lap, they did. Didn't matter that her name was mentioned in the newspaper for being one of their best and their brightest, she was persona non grata from that point on. They didn't speak to her except to give her orders or deride the "holy one" in front of each other and the inmates- a problem which was making her job increasingly more dangerous if they'd stopped to think about it. With all the disrespect they showed her, the inmates were picking up on it. If her fellow staff didn't see any reason to back her up and treat her with respect, the inmates sure as hell wouldn't. She'd had to step up the number of them that she sent to the hole for trying to grab a handful of her chest or pulling out their fishing lure, hoping she'd want to take a bite. Whenever they did that, she found it remarkably difficult not to kick them between the legs so hard they puked. But whenever she brought it up to her supervisors, they just rolled their eyes and shrugged, saying something like, "Henley and her histrionics again. That's just prison life, sister." She should have left the job then, but Diana had always possessed a perversely strong stubborn streak and refused to be beaten by these lowlifes. And in her head, both staff and inmates were rapidly collecting together under that common banner. The decision was also helped along by the fact that moving across country had drained her finances and she still had car and mortgage payments to make.

Sighing, she forced her mind back to the problem at hand. Her shoulders drooped as she tried to figure out how to get in with no key. The best idea she could come up with was to follow the wall along the back of the building, looking for more holes to crawl through. No such luck. The brick and concrete of the wall was solid, with only one way in- through the door.

Diana ground her teeth. How the hell was she going to get through the door with no key? It was freakin' locked, and as confident as she felt in her abilities, she knew she'd never been blessed with the strength to rip a steel door off its hinges. No human was. 'Now what?' was starting to become that day's theme, and it was driving her nuts. She slid down to the ground, fuming and cursing the door for not being open. She wondered if someone was ever going to come along and find her there.

KRRRRRK….HSSSSSS, her radio suddenly crackled.

Her heart leapt, and she pulled the wonderful device from its holster. If someone was trying to get through, that meant there was someone in Control. She would finally be able to find out what in God's name was going on and figure out a way free of the day's madness.

She lifted the radio in front of her mouth and pressed the button. "Control, Control, this is Henley- do you copy? What's the situation?" But there was no reply, only more static. Diana let out a little scream. This was unbelievable. So many hours now and not a word. Now, when she finally got a hint that there was someone else out there, no one answered. NO ONE ANSWERED. It was even harder now not to hurl her radio away, but her well-trained self-control prevailed, and she stuffed it, snarling, back into the holster.

"Not funny. NOT FUNNY!" she said, slamming her fist against the wall. Then, there was a noise so quiet, she barely heard it over the hiss and crackle of her radio.

clink.

"What…," she turned her head to follow the direction it came from and she saw a big brass key being pulled into the drainage pipe leading to the gutters on the roof's edge. She ran over to the pipe with some crazy hope that this mysteriously forgotten key would somehow be the one to let get her out of the courtyard and into the prison proper. When she reached the pipe it was too late; she couldn't see the thing anymore. Wondering how it been pulled into the pipe, she frowned and looked up, scanning the roof carefully with her eyes. No one was standing up there, pulling it through the gutter. Rubbing her neck, confused, Diana got down on all fours and stared into the pipe.

Nothing. Rummaging through her pockets, she found what she was looking for, the cheap piece-of-crap pocket flashlight she always carried with her. She never expected it to be this useful, but when she shone it into the base of the pipe, she managed to just catch the yellowed glint of light bouncing off the key. What's more, it looked like she could reach it too. She rocked back onto her heels and tried to figure out how stupid it was to reach into a hole like that. Something had dragged the key in there, that much was certain, and she didn't know if it was capable or inclined to hurt her. Every now and again some kind of critter managed to sneak its way through chinks in the fence or wall, but the only kind she'd ever seen beyond the odd lizard were bats and mice. She couldn't imagine any of those kind of animals being inclined to pull a key into a pipe, but she figured bats didn't hang out in pipes and mice weren't much of a threat. Whatever her reservations, she had to get that key.

She let out a deep breath and lay down on the ground again before reaching into the pipe. Her fingers groped blindly in the moist darkness until they came across the smooth surface of the key. Just as she wrapped her fingers around it, something grabbed her by the wrist.

"Yaaggghh!" yelled Diana, desperately trying to jerk her hand out without losing hold of her prize. Whatever it was, it hurt, and she could feel a bunch of sharp points digging into her wrist and hand. "Ow, ow, ow, ow!" She pulled and screamed and kicked the pipe in outrage, but the thing wouldn't let go. Finally, in one last desperate move before deciding to give up on the key, she braced her feet against the wall with her legs bent. With a pained grunt, she kicked against the wall with her legs, pulling on her arm with all her strength. Her arm popped loose of the pipe, and she felt like she'd left some of her own skin behind in it.

She did, too. Long gashes ran the length of her hand and she gingerly uncurled her fingers to lay relieved eyes on the key ensconced in her bloody hand. Then, stuffing it in her pocket, she aimed the shotgun at the pipe and fired a couple of shots into it. The pellets went through the thin metal and the something inside it gave a brief gurgling rattle before going completely silent. Viscous fluid oozed from the bottom of the pipe and she could only assume it was the thing's blood. Cradling her injured hand against her chest, she walked up and kicked the damned pipe.

"Did I taste good? Huh? Huh?" she panted. "Too bad the second course was freakin' lead!"

Trying not to whimper, she looked at her hand again, trying to assess the damage. While it hurt like hell, it wasn't actually too bad. It was just a flesh wound. The animal… thing… creature… hadn't severed any tendons or damaged any bones, so her biggest concern would be infection. She needed to get somewhere where she could have it cleaned and wrapped. That meant the infirmary, and that was clear on the other side of the facility. For now, she pulled a ponytail band out of her hair to hold the rest of the tissues from her packet against the scratches. The hand might be a little stiff as it scabbed up, but that was okay as long as she didn't wind up in another crazy situation like that last one.

"Damn, and that's my shooting hand, too," she sighed, grimacing as she shouldered her shotgun once more. "That hurts. Okay, time to quit whining already. You've got a job to do", she told herself, making her way back to the door. Praying the key would work, but not really trusting her luck thus far, she was shocked when it turned quite easily. When she stepped into the hallway, it was completely dark except for the dim patch of light that she let in when she opened the door. That was weird. Whatever happened to the emergency generator? This place was supposed to be constantly lit. If it wasn't, there was no way they'd be able to see everything the inmates were up to. She switched her flashlight back on and stuck it in her front pocket so it could light the path in front of her. Last thing she needed was any more surprises.

For a moment, she debated with herself what to do about the door. The proper thing to do was to lock every door as she went through- that was what they were all trained to do. Every locked door was one more layer of security, meant to keep everyone safe. But with all the difficulty she'd had getting anywhere today, she was reluctant to close anything behind her. Hell, she'd even managed to lose the first hole she went through. That still galled and confused her.

Shaking her head at her own stupidity, she pulled the heavy door closed and locked it behind her. South or north?, she wondered. Either way would eventually lead to Central Control, but the south cell block ended near the cafeteria, and the cafeteria was close to the infirmary. Might as well make that pit stop before moving on her way. Her hand was throbbing, and who knows what kind of crap was mildewing in the nasty old pipe. There was probably rust in there too. Thank God she was up to date on her tetanus shots at any rate. In the end, that was what decided that for her.

"Infirmary it is," she told herself as she headed off into the dark.