Silent Hill: Transcendence

Chapter 1, Part 2: Cackling Fools

The emaciated-looking creature was laughing disturbingly, hot on my trail. Seeing it coming after me with all-out effort did not help calm me down. Circumnavigating the pillar I ran into, I reached the company office door and pounded my fist on it. The dull, throbbing pain on my right arm did not deter me from getting attention, but there was no response at all. I tried shouting for help, but there was none to be rendered. Stepping back, I noticed light coming from the window by the door, but as soon as I could get a glimpse of the office's interior, the blinds were drawn, as if someone was ignoring me, throwing me out for the wolves.

The cackle was growing louder as I was drowning myself in the effort to get help- pounding on the windows, shrieking at it. I knew time was running short as I fought for a lost cause, and I could hear that it was just right behind me. It had snuck up while I was looking for rescue. I could even smell it; it smelt like the sewers, like someone who never showered. The creature's victorious cry as it wound up for a swing with its bloodied steel rod was a confirmation of its proximity. Instinctually, I ducked for cover. There was the sound of glass shattering- but looking up, I saw that the windows were just cracked, with an inch diameter of a hole.

I was a soldier, trained in the modern art of war, trained in a method that was considered very effective even when compared to western models of military training. Yet, it was all nullified, considering that the equipment I had trained with were all locked away, not on my person. Even worse: I was no combatant- I was trained primarily for logistics. Even though I had gone through an ersatz form of combat training in my BMT (Basic Military Training) days and CQMS (Company Quartermaster Sergeant) course days, I would be a cake-walk if I was pitted against a rifleman, or better, a commando or guardsman.

Thus, I chose to run. Pushing myself from a crouched position, I ran away from the violent creature- the next thing to do was to alert the rest of the company. This, however, was made difficult from how dark the open-aired corridors of the ground floor had become- most of the ceiling lamps were dimmed, broken or flickering in its death throes. Somehow, rusty fences were erected between the pillars along the corridor- they weren't there before. Some were rusted open at some places, others gnarled and broken, but they all looked firm and some were even dangerous from how some of the steel bars were sticking towards me. Nevertheless, I ran, despite how it seems that the entire world was against me.

The corridor, lined with impenetrable fences, forms an L to the left where it ends with a flight of stairs- there was another of the emaciated creature at the end of the corridor, coming at me. This one was wearing a different set of disgusting, bloody rags, and was wielding a kitchen knife instead of a rod, but it was otherwise the same monster- its head was twitching at speeds impossible, and it moves in a stiff gait. A sickening Goofy laughter emanates from its swollen, pulsing lips. Rotten teeth, white eyes. I couldn't even think of engaging it even if it was blocking my way. I just sort of stopped a couple of meters away from it, despairing over how it seemed hard to get through the hostile creature. Its friend wasn't far behind- I was forced into a corner, so I went forward, as ill-equipped to fight as I was.

There was no way I could win- the violent being attacked first, flailing its knife at me. A few swings later, it tried to stab me, but I was able to dodge its feeble but vicious attack, grab it by the arm and push it aside with my other hand. My way was finally open. With a heart pounding too much from adrenaline and a kind of cold, hard fear never felt before, I sprinted away, ditching the two things, made a turn and climbed the stairs.

On the second floor, the architecture was as rusted and damaged as everything on the first floor- the whole building was intended changed... somehow. The stairs to the third floor where my bunk was in were somehow blocked by some rusty wire mesh fencing, so I couldn't get up from there- not that I needed to. I was intending to call in the cavalry from the second floor. Approaching the closest bunk, I banged on the door the way I did to the company office, but there was no reply- were they really that tired? I tried the door, but the lock was broken- the knob could rotate completely, but the door would not budge. It was as if the entire world was falling apart.

The realisation that things had gone to hell unnerved me. Pounding on the door further, I screamed at it, kicked it, and screamed even more, hoping beyond hope that someone would answer my call for help. It was after some time that the lights were on, and I couldn't resist but to look through the windows by the door- and I was rewarded with someone doing the same from the other side, except that someone was the same creature as the ones downstairs that shouldn't exist. Except this one had the army's uniform on, and was silent. I recoiled from the sight, and stumbled away from it, fearing that it would break through the glasses and grab me by the throat, but it was just standing there, staring with its milky-white eyes at me, its head vibrating as though it was being electrocuted. It was then that I realised that the other bunks were lighted up as well, but the same hellish creatures were at each window. Some had more than one- they were just standing there, looking.

There was no other way- I could only run, and run. It was the only option- everyone was gone, replaced by the Cackling Fools, as I decided to name them for the way they laughed despite their condition- they weren't exactly exceptional fighters either, though that's not to say I was better. A silhouette was blocking my way however, something hulking and tall, taking up two-thirds the width of the walkway, and standing at 1.8 meters. It was holding something long and flashy in the dark. Just as soon as I detected the strange new thing, it raised the long and flashy thing- It was a rifle! Instead of a gunshot and an end to my life however, there was the loud click, but it nearly shocked me to death all the same.

I had wanted to return the way I came from, but the distant corrupted laughter of the Cackling Fool at the stairs was enough to push me forward. 'It was out, so it should be okay...' I thought to myself, tried to shine some light in the otherwise pitch-black situation, but it did little to encourage. I was taking small steps towards the hulking monster- It was so dark that I couldn't see what it was. I surveyed the situation- it has left a gap to its left; I could squeeze through that, but the monster was probably dangerous judging from its size and rifle. I saw the flash of a bayonet. Looking back, I realised the two Cackling Fools had blocked the other side of the second floor corridor I was in. A Cackling Fool was easy to overpower, but two...

I took a charge forward- there was no option for me but to hope I could squeeze through the gigantic beast. I was envisioning myself taking a dive at the gap it had left, but before I could bend low and jump, the muscled thing lunged forward, and rifle-butted me, knocking me backwards. I fell on my back from the force, a confirmation of its might. It took the wind out of me, and I couldn't do anything as the giant raised its rifle, preparing to pig-stick me. It was funny, how I still had time to realise that it was holding an old AR-15 rifle, when I was about to die.

I recovered just enough to roll aside before the monster struck down with its bayonet. In effect, its blade became stuck in the ground. Taking this time and opportunity, I got up and took off through the gap while it pulled off its bayonet from the ground. Before it could turn around though, I was already gone- despite being winded, I was frightened enough to run that fast. Part of my success however, was because, I realised, the giant was a bit on the slow side, and despite possessing so much muscle- perhaps it was its weight.

A flight of stairs later, I was at the third floor, and my bunk was just beside it. The door leading into my bunk was still ajar, but there was one fundamental difference- It was splashed with some kind of red stuff. The third floor was overwhelmed with that horrible metallic, rotting smell from the toilet, so it was hard to tell what it was- I could only guess from its shade of red and texture that it was blood. Call me a wimp, but I was afraid to touch it- I had to force myself. Choosing the least stained part of the door, I swung open the door, and walked in, flipping on the light switch in an attempt to wake everyone up and light everything up at the same time. What came was a lacklustre, feeble dimness that barely serves the latter purpose. A few fluorescent ceiling lamps were flickering, but it was enough for me to tell...

That there was no one at all- the beds around mine were instead either bloody, messed-up mattresses or occupied by some kind of fleshy mannequin, or even a combination of both. Needless to say, I gagged at the sight. Some of the mannequins were accurately positioned in various poses- some were asleep, others lie in their final death throes, and did I mention they were fleshy? One had a large wound in its chest, and from my spot at the door, I could tell that there were organs and meat inside, "God... Good God..."

I couldn't stop questioning- Were they there before? Have I failed to notice them when I woke up? The lights were all off, after all... Or did they just appear out of nowhere? The worse thought came after that- Did someone put them there? It was ridiculous, but it was a chilling thought nonetheless.

In my green, digitized uniform and black leather boots, with my three chevrons, no matter how much I hated the army, I was a confident bastard. Wearing the uniform somehow gave me a sense of security and pride, even though I was disappointed and angry at how my own mother country had done to me despite my best intentions for her- I had planned to study English Literature, write, and spread its culture all over the globe. I preached my loyalty to everyone who would hear- at least, that was long ago. Now, I just want to get out of the military, and write for my own passion. In my uniform, I somehow felt strong, and able to overcome odds, but now, that was stripped from me- the monsters, the rot, the blood... Not even a top commando was trained for this...

Carefully avoiding the sprawling legs of a fleshy mannequin lying in an opposite direction to its bed, I made my way to my locker- To survive and find out what was going on, I would need to equip myself. On my locker, I noticed some wordings- the same crude insults written on the whiteboard at the briefing shelter below, "Who the hell did this?" I said as I touched the words- not all of them were polite and decent. Some were very vulgar- I was F-bombed a few times. Ignoring them after getting flushed with an anger which I myself know not why it surfaced, I unlocked my cabinet- and found something else other than my rifle...