A/N: And onto the third part! I'm hoping for some reviews soon... pweashe? . Note:

Konami® is a registered trademark of Konami Corporation Silent Hill™, characters, settings and Silent Hill are © Konami Corporation, I own none of the features of this story that are featured in any of the Silent Hill series, I make no money from this fan fiction and simply wrote this for the fun and sake of writing a fan fiction after taking a long break, don't sue me bro!

*Hates disclaimers*

Enjoy,

Anna! ^-^

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Devastation

Do not join the others, they are deceivers, they are damned.

I eased open the door and squinted warily inside, the room was pitch black, devoid of light except for the dancing lights of the TV in the other room spilling out into the hall. I eased the door closed as quietly as possible, I didn't want to wake Harry if he was already asleep, I couldn't see the watch on my wrist but I knew it was late. Placing my bag on the table by the door and reaching to take off my jacket, I instead felt the bloodstained knife in my hand. I remembered the creature in the street and my jacket lying useless on the sidewalk. I hoped for Harry's sake that he was asleep, but I hoped for my sake that he wasn't, I had so many questions that needed answering and it seemed he was the one to ask, if not him then his book. I flipped the cruel implement over in my hand before carefully placing it in my bag and drawing the zip at the neck. I wondered how Harry would react if he'd seen me arrive home with a bloody knife in my hand, war-weary and anxious. Knowing my father however, he was probably out colder than an iceberg, I slumped against the hall wall and rubbed my eyes wearily. What a night.

I stood there for a while, passing my fingers through my hair and allowing the rain gathered by it to fall silently to the ground, my legs aching and my nerves shaking, closing my eyes and letting my head slump limply backwards into the wall. Aware of the time and my waiting bed, I forced my eyes open and pushed off the wall, threatening to fall lazily forwards before catching myself and steadying my feet, turning to the front room's door and dragging myself towards it. I leaned around the door as quietly as possible, taking in the static dancing across the screen of the television and taking in my father's form slouched lazily across the couch, a low rumbling snore making itself heard above the static emanating from the television. I smiled to myself and retreated back to the hallway, making sure to avoid the creaking floorboards I had grown to memorize in the time i'd spent in this home. I stood in the hallway at a loss for what to do, maybe I should just get changed and drop into bed, if I had the energy to even get changed. I felt like a shower though, the cold rain had sunken into my bones, making me ache and feel uncomfortable even as I dried in the hallway radiator's generous warmth. As I stood contemplating how best to make myself at home, my stomach announced its own discomfort in the form of a lengthy low rumble, suddenly I was starving.

I turned on the light and blinked around the dingy kitchen, dazzled by the simple lamp on the roof, the dark had firmly planted itself before my eyes, leaving dizzying blotches swimming before my eyes as the light chased it away. I busied myself with inspecting our meagre stock of food in the cupboards and, pulling down some bread and peanut butter from two separate cupboards and a blunt knife from a drawer at my waist, the bloodied ritual knife hidden in my bag flashing through my mind. I yawned extensively and closed my eyes for a second, stretching onto my tiptoes before relaxing and opening my eyes again, inspecting the state of disrepair our cramped home was in whilst absently spreading the peanut butter on my bread. Jackets and shoes lay strewn across the furniture, the blind in the corner of the room clinging to the roof at an angle, the sink overflowing with dishes and food containers spilling from the trash, the cupboards empty in their place. I sighed and pressed my spare hand to my forehead, the room swaying slightly before my eyes as my arms suddenly felt heavy, the effort of spreading the butter becoming tiring. Am I really that tired? It's not quite that time of the night when I begin to pass out just yet. Iglanced up blearily at the clock on the wall, it was stuck at six o'clock and the second hand was stuttering and jumping in place, another part of this house that didn't function properly.

As I continued my tough examination of my home, a crackling sound similar to static began to creep across my senses, growing in volume as my head began to throb, the room tipping violently before me as I fell forwards with it and hit my head on something. I sent my late night snack flying across the room as I reached for something solid to hold onto. I caught hold of the cupboard handle and raised my hand holding the knife up to my forehead, attempting to steady myself as I took in the bloody, rusted blade in my grasp, blood dripping steadily off the blade's point. I gasped and threw the knife down as if it had just bitten me, it was a grubby stainless steel when I took it from the drawer, why was this horrific weapon in its place? I took a step backwards, planting my feet on the ground and steadying myself before turning towards the hallway door and stumbling dizzily across the kitchen for it. As my vision turned blurred, my head throbbed painfully, a long, steady blare of a siren bursting into my ears, my legs giving way as I fell to my knees and threw my hands across my ears. What's happening? What's with this noise! I climbed back to my feet and staggered out into the hallway, using the wall to stop myself as I span around to slump backwards against the wall. I began breathing deeply and stared at the floor, blinking profusely and clinging to the wall in an attempt to steady myself. A thought occurred to me as I cast my eyes about looking for the source of the noise so I leant dizzily across the wall, snatching up the bag and grabbing the black bound handle that protruded from the opening. I held onto the handle and dropped the bag, shaking the handle wildly in a stupor until the bag eventually slipped from the blade and fell to the ground, the sound of its collision with the floor being drowned out by the cacophony of noise rioting about inside my head. All of my senses were screaming in protest, my head throbbing in pain as my ears were blasted apart by the blaring siren, the taste of iron filling my mouth and the smell of metal invading my nostrils. Holding the knife unsteadily at arm's length as I urged myself forward, I fell headlong through the front room's door, staggering into the room and falling onto my front as the world was plunged into darkness and silence.

"Daddy, the TV is snowing."

I flick through the pages of the book...

"Dad?"

"Hello?"

"It's me."

"Anna?"

"Yeah. Sorry I didn't call sooner".

"That's okay, you needed a break from being inside, you hadn't been out in weeks so you must've been itching to get out and for the longer the better."

"Yeah, I guess I was. Anyway I'm coming home now."

"Alright, i'll see you soon honey."

"Oh, I didn't get that thing you asked me to."

"The book on The Flauros? That's okay don't sweat it, I can recall enough to cope for now, just get yourself home, i'll be there in a few minutes, I have a phone call to make first though so wait up a little while okay?"

"Okay. Okay I will."

"Don't get cold waiting honey, i'll be there soon, I love you... Cheryl."

"I love you too Dad."

I opened my eyes and sat up with a start, inhaling deeply and looking around me in a panic. I breathed out and waited as my eyes adjusted to the dark, waving my hand in front of my face until I was satisfied with my vision. I then tilted my head and saw something lying on the floor at the foot of the couch, I reached out and made a grab at it. Feeling a sharp pain on the palm of my hand, I yelped and snatched my hand back, clutching my palm briefly before carefully feeling for what had hurt me. I nudged the object with the side of my hand and warily picked it up, running the fingers of my injured hand around it. I felt something rough.. strips of something rough wound around something solid, a disc or plate of some form and then something cold and metallic, smooth to the touch and sloping to a point. I pressed my finger to the end and was rewarded with a sharp jolt of pain, making me wince and in turn making my head throb. I tried to fit together the results of my blind examination and frowned, my head was swimming and I could see only the vague memory of hiding this object somewhere, an image of blood, then a similar object, covered in rust, and lit up, clearer than the first memory. My head throbbed painfully, I leant forwards into the darkness and retched, wiping my mouth as my stomach heaved, trying to expel air from my stomach, I hardly touched my food at the diner. The diner! I lay back and stared into the darkness, patterns dancing before my eyes as I cast my mind back to the day, or was it the night? Rain, walking home in the rain and meeting someone.. a creature, I remember it spitting at me, I avoided that.. throwing off my jacket and running, arriving home and meeting.. an old woman hovering at my neighbors' doorstep. D... Dana, was that her name? No.. Dahlia. She spoke of darkness.. my duty, what duty? I couldn't remember, did she even say? I pictured my crude gaining of entry to my home, putting down my bag and hiding the object in my bag.. making food.. and feeling pain. That pain.. did I cut myself? No.. it was inside my head, a..a migraine, I remember staggering into this room and collapsing.. the noise.. the siren! That disembodied sound blaring painfully into my head and forcing me to my feet, the knife.. it was a knife! I dubiously weighed the knife in my hand at my disturbing revelation. The other knife had turned rusty, and bloody, I had forced myself through the darkness to this room and fallen.

I groaned and sat up, closing my eyes and wincing from the lingering pain, my mind had unclouded but some pain still remained. I blinked again, noticing there was no comparable difference between the darkness of the room and the darkness of my eyelids as I forced myself shakily to my feet. Waiting for a moment as my head readjusted to the height of standing, I exhaled deeply and racked my brain for something I was missing. I had a feeling there was something I had forgotten about in all the confusion, why else would I choose this room in particular to charge into? I remembered worrying about something, checking inside this room on returning home to reassure myself that I needn't worry.. Dad! I snapped around and held out my arms, feeling for the couch in the general direction I remembered it being. I felt something soft under my hands, the couch, I lifted my hands and felt something harder resting against the couch, I guessed it was my dad's leg, or his arm. I dropped my hands again and felt my way along the couch to the head of it, reaching out my hands and feeling a head propped up against the armrest of the couch. Typical, it was just like Harry to sleep through something like that, did he even hear it? I smiled to myself and, despite myself, let out a low laugh, I didn't know where he got his laziness. Still smiling, I reached out my other hand and gently shook him."Hey, Dad, wake up." I said quietly, a rude awakening is one of the things he hated in life. "Hey c'mon you bum, get up!" I began to shake him harder, the same ritual I went through every morning. "Let's go Dad, are you prete-" I was interrupted mid-sentence as the television blinked into life, scrolling static filling the screen and lighting the room, spilling out faint static into the room.. I blinked as my eyes adjusted to the new light and froze. my heart leaping into my throat as I took in what I could see in the flickering light. My father lay on the couch, his mouth hung open and his eyes were staring, unseeing, at the corner of the room. There was fresh blood glistening in the light as it clung above his top lip, trailing off into his mouth.

I stared wide-eyed at my father's limp body sprawled on the couch and blinked, disbelieving. "Hey, Harry, wake up." I urged, my voice thick with tears threatening to make their appearance very shortly. "Harry! Dad! Daddy! Wake up stop messing around!" I stammered, my whole body shuddering as I fought to hold in tears. I tilted my head back to clear my head, in the vain hope I would wake up and it wouldn't be real, it wasn't real, I didn't believe it, he wasn't gone, he'd never leave me. Something was smeared on the wall above the couch, I squinted blearily through my tears and made out the words "Too late" written on the walls. I shook my head and took my daddy's huge hand in my two tiny hands and squeezed it. I leant over his empty body strewn in front of me and closed my eyes, gritting my teeth as tears began to flow from my eyes, my breath coming out in quick ragged sobs as I rested my head on his chest, letting myself cry freely as the last of my resolve crumbled. My heart felt as if it would break, pulling apart any second as I felt a physical pain rip through my chest, clear blood from the deep wound pouring out through my eyes and onto my father's chest. He was gone.. he was alive when I came home, and now he was gone, I could've helped him, saved him or at least joined him in his fate, anything instead of being left alone, left here on this deteriorating planet alone.

Alone.

"I love you too Dad."