Silent Hill 4: The Not-So Parody-(Worlds Apart)

There was something in the toilet. Something like a rock. It glistened in the water, and Henry's right eyebrow rose at the sight of it. 'That's odd… I haven't taken a dump in awhile…' Henry looked around, as if there was actually anyone else in his apartment, and rolled up his sleeve.

SPLOSH!

Out came his hand, and Henry saw that in it was a blue, crystal-like stone, with a golden chain attached to it. "Who put this in my toilet? Was it you, Francisco?" No answer. Henry sniffled and dropped the stone into his pants. He turned his attention to the hole.

It was larger and rounder, just like before, and Henry frowned. 'I better leave all my other stuff back in the chest; I feel like this one's going to be a doozy.' As Henry returned to the living room he squinted at the orange, evening sunlight that was now streaming in through the windows. He continued to look at it when a decapitated head floated past one of the windows. Henry hopped back in surprise. "The hell?" He steadily approached the windows and the head came back upwards past the other window. Henry slowly turned away and the head started to float downwards, but when he turned back the head zipped out-of-sight. He edged back and saw an inch of the head's scalp in the window; upon moving his foot back he saw the inch of scalp disappear. He moved his foot more and saw more of the head appear, then he returned it to its original position. Sniggering, Henry turned away completely and waited a millisecond before whipping around to the window. The head was nowhere to be seen.

"Damn it!" Henry fumed. He stowed away most of his equipment in the chest, save for his handgun, and then went back into the restroom, ignoring the cork of the wine bottle as it tried to worm its way through the hole in the wall.

(WOOSH…) Intermission.

(Ding) Now back to your scheduled program.

Distant noises that sounded like monkeys killing each other in various grotesque fashions were the first things that greeted Henry as he tumbled out of the hole and into the slimy alleyway. His head hit the wall and that rocked him quite a bit. Nevertheless, Henry got to his feet and peered down the elongated alley; overheard he saw some brownish shapes leap from rooftop to rooftop so fast he could make out only blurs. Disregarding this, Henry started down the alleyway. The light here came from the green glow that the buildings seemed to percolate.

When Henry came out he saw that he was on a rooftop; a lower one than the ones the things had jumped from. It was nighttime here, and Henry recognized a few of the buildings he could see in the distance. He went down a small set of steps and passed by a car before something flew down and landed on the hood of the car, flattening it and imploding the glass. Henry turned and saw that the thing in question resembled something like a monkey, at least it had a monkey's mannerisms. Other than that it had no fur, only some white, disgusting flesh with touches of brown here and there. It roared and scratched its armpits while jigging around. Henry mimicked its movements and its roars, laughing shortly afterwards before plugging a bullet in its head. The monkey-man fell back and died. Henry flicked it off and continued down to the next area of the rooftop.

As he went he heard gunshots and loud curses from above him. There were more noises similar to the ones of the monkey-man, and then something crashed down behind him from a much higher building. Henry saw that it was a man probably twenty years older than himself. He was holding the greatest revolver ever in his right hand, and then Henry knew who he was instantly upon seeing his tie.

"Richie!" he exclaimed in shock, but the man growled at him and trained his revolver on his forehead.

"It's Richard, gods damn you!"

"Whatever, Richie, you-,"

"Call me that again and I'll blow your nuts off, you damn stoner!" Henry immediately silenced. "Yeah, I know who you are! You're that stoner from 203, the one who's holed himself in his room. But wait… if you're here too, then maybe something's wrong with the whole apartment… I mean, that hole, and this place…"

Henry seemed intrigued now. "You have a hole too? Damn it… that means I'm really not high. Or wait, maybe only stoners can only come here… but I've been clean for over a year, I swear."

Richard aimed his revolver at him again. "Are you implying that I'm a stoner, stoner?"

"Sort of, I guess. Why are you so antsy?"

"I'm not antsy, and I'll admit… I used to smoke that stuff back in my college days."

"You went to college?"

"Obviously, you shit-headed stoner. Where else do you think I would get that stuff?"

"Ah, good point."

"Anyway…" Richard looked about himself and paced, his arms crossed. "You know, the guy that lived in 203 before you… He disappeared for a few days too."

"What do you mean?"

"He was just like you. Depressed or something. I mean, he wouldn't come out."

"Listen, I'm not depressed! I'm trapped in my room! There's chains blocking the front door and some Walter guy's the one who put them there! He left me a note!"

"Okay, okay, simmer down," Richard told him. "I'll go along with this chain thing for a second, if only to prove my point. Alright, let's say the guy before you had these chains too… don't you think he would've had the hole too?"

"If you mean he hallucinated it like I am due to the constant fixation on drugs but the actual absence of them in your system."

"No, not like that! I'm talking about if this has already happened before. Maybe he came here too, and he might still be here! When they finally got inside the place he was gone and it was in pretty bad condition, but he wasn't there. He could be trapped here."

"That's the craziest thing I've ever heard, Richie. Who was this guy, anyway?"

"He was a journalist or something. And I told you not to call me Richie! Do you want your poor excuse of nuts gone?"

"Don't call my nuts poor. I bet they're bigger than yours." Richard shut up. He sighed and walked past Henry towards the door.

"I'm getting out of here," he said quickly. "You should do the same thing if you value your sex. Those monkey-things go for your valuables." He disappeared through the door and Henry had the feeling he'd forgotten to tell the man something very important, yet knew Richard would ignore anyway. He shrugged and started to follow him when two of the monkey-men dropped down and chortled horribly at him.

"What are you monkey-asses laughing at?" Henry demanded as he readied the handgun. Before he could fire, however, the monkey-man to his right had lashed out at grasped his crotch. Henry squealed while a horrid feeling crept up into his lower gut. He cried out and unloaded most of the clip into the monkey. It stumbled back and scratched its groin; nevertheless, Henry shot it and its partner in the head, killing them instantly.

"You biotches! Did I give you permission to touch me there? Ugh!" Henry stomped on their groins as hard as he possibly could before going through the door Richard had gone through. He came out onto the top landing of a catwalk which extended some way down. It was pitch black down there, aside from the faint, pink glow that came from the neon lights that were posted at regular intervals. Henry shrugged and vaulted over the railing. He had planned to land on the nearest landing, but he instead conked his head on the edge of the railing, flailed wildly down to the next one, and then continued to fall until he fell into a pile of garbage.

Henry rolled out of it in a state of extreme pain and struggled to throw the banana peel from his head. From the wall phased the beanie ghost, who was laughing at Henry. "Gee, if you were dead like me, you wouldn't have that problem."

"Shut the hell up," Henry retorted. "At least I don't have an obsession with weed."

"What? Yes you do. I do, you know, have some left over from what I found at the orphanage."

"No, I won't accept your weed. I have something of an honor code about that," Henry replied, and the beanie ghost shrugged.

"Your loss," it said. "I haven't seen any around, anyway."

Henry shook his head. "Everyone in this city has some, I swear. I'll find some soon enough."

The ghost shrugged again and then disappeared through the wall, leaving Henry to climb painfully to his feet. He rubbed his neck and looked around, not that there was much to see. He groaned and went through the nearest door. On the other side, Henry found himself below another metallic catwalk. Groaning again, he proceeded to climb it, when three monkey-men dropped down to halt him. These were different, however, from the ones Henry encountered before. Bulging out of their chests were grotesque, testicle-resembling organs of some sort.

Henry drew his handgun and taunted them with it. "You little biotches, you want some of this? Come and get some, then!" He aimed and pulled the trigger, but the only thing that came out of the gun was a click. Henry ground his teeth and squeezed the trigger several more times, yet still no bullets blew forth from it. He chuckled nervously at the monkey-men and backed away.

"Uh, looks like I don't have bullets left…" He grinned and made to dash away, but the closest monkey-man pounced on him and restrained him on the floor with its arms and legs.

"Oh, shit!" Henry screamed as the monkey-man's tongue slipped out. "IT'S GOING TO FREAKING RAPE ME! HELP! HELP ME, PLEASE!" His pleads reverberated throughout the open city, and a moment later the beanie ghost phased through the wall again.

"Hey, you're going to be monkey-raped!" it exclaimed, and hovered nearby. "I've got to see this!"

"How about a little help?" Henry asked desperately. "The tongue's going to go INTO MY MOUTH!"

"Chill out, chill out," the beanie ghost said. It pointed at the organs protruding from the monkey-man's chest. "Its balls are right there; just hit them and it'll die, although I really wanted to see a monkey-rape." Henry sighed and pistol-whipped the organ quickly. The butt of the weapon struck it and the organ exploded, splattering Henry with a ton of white, gooey liquid. He screamed in disgust.

"Monkey stuff! Get it the hell off me!" He vainly tried to sweep the stuff off of his shirt and face with his hands, but he succeeded only in spreading it over himself more.

The beanie ghost motioned at the two remaining monkey-men as the other one fell back and died. "You've got some more trouble, you know." Henry looked up and barely avoided the second monkey-man as it attempted a pounce. He threw his handgun at the organ and the weapon connected, killing the monkey-man instantly. The last one roared and came at Henry, and the man reluctantly shot his hand through the organ.

The beanie ghost shuddered. "That's gross, man. I'm getting out of here before you start doing something even funkier." The ghost left and Henry stared at his arm with a grimace.

"Shit, this sucks." He sighed. "The things I do for alcohol…" He walked up the rest of the catwalk and opened the door at the end.

Meanwhile, Richard was walking out of a high alleyway that led to a single door. "This place is like some shitty maze… I wonder if there's any popcorn around here…" While he was musing he wandered through the door and bumped into Henry. He jumped back. "What are you doing here, stoner? And why are you covered in all that white stuff?"

"It's monkey semen, Richie," Henry replied, and then the man slapped him across the cheek with his revolver.

"I told you not to call me that, damn it! Are you deaf or something?" Henry cupped his cheek and shuffled away.

"What the hell's your problem? You're acting like someone who's gone cold turkey, for Pete's sake!"

"I killed a Pete once," Richard said, almost as if it were an after-thought. "I shot him in the back alley of the 'Heights, you know the place. It's where that other guy always waited for dope from that priest…"

"Right, right, just don't hit me again," Henry said. "That thing hurts like a biotch. And those hurt." As he continued to rub his cheekbone he looked about himself. "Hey, where are we anyway? Looks like a sports shop… Hey, Richie!" Richard had already departed through another door, and Henry grimaced. "Fine, go screw yourself."

Henry gave the door the bird and then snooped around the small sports shop. There were various aisles dedicated to certain equipment and gear, but when he stumbled upon a rack of baseball bats Henry decided to give one a swing. "This should be good against those monkey people… damn, I hope my water works… this stuff's all dried up and crusty now…" Nevertheless, Henry tried the door Richard had left through. Surprisingly, it was locked, so Henry cussed it out before trying the other door; this one wasn't locked.

He saw that this new area was some type of pet store, and he saw three of the dogs from the subway and forest munching on something. Henry, rather than creeping around them safely, whistled very shrilly. The dogs turned to him. "Hey, doggies!" he yelled. "Time for your medicine!" He drew the bat and went to bash their skulls in, yet one of the dogs bit him in the ankle again and wouldn't release him.

"Let go, you stupid mutt!" Henry cried as he slammed its back with the bat. He then took care of the other two before limping to the exit across the room. As he stumbled through this one he saw that he was in an area identical to the pink-neon-light from before. Henry, having not learned his lesson the first time, launched himself from the top to the bottom, hoping that he would fall on a cushion of some sort; he didn't.

"Son-of-a…" He got to his feet and stretched out his limbs to try and rid himself of the excruciating pain. "This is really gay," Henry said as he opened up another nearby door. "I haven't found any alcohol or weed yet…" The door swung open and Henry teetered on the edge of the doorway for a second. He fell back and saw that the door opened unto nothing; a sprawling abyss lay below him. 'Perfect,' he thought when he saw a red ladder hanging out in the air before him. It led up to who-knows-where, but Henry decided he really didn't have a choice in the matter; it was the weed and booze or nothing.

So, Henry made a frantic leap to the ladder. He managed to grab the lowest rung, but nearly lost his grip. Muttering curse after curse, Henry pulled himself higher and started to climb. And so he climbed. And climbed. And climbed. And climbed. And climbed. And climbed. And climbed. And climbed. And climbed some more. And some more. And some more. And yet some more. And when Henry finally reached the top, he slipped on a banana peel and went flying through another doorway.

"Damn monkey-people and their bananas…" Henry dusted himself off and saw that he was now in a kitchen of sorts. It was dirty and dingy, and the plates were piled up in the sink. Multi-colored streamers hung from the ceiling, and on the table across from him there was a half-eaten birthday cake. Henry grinned. "Awesome, whoever lives here has to have some alcohol!" Henry began snooping around the whole kitchen and dining room, throwing open cupboards and drawers and the refrigerator. Unfortunately, all of them were empty.

"Shit! Where's the booze?" Henry demanded as he kicked in one of the cupboards and stubbed his toe. As he hopped around in pain a voice spoke up from behind him.

"Dude, I drank the last of my liquor." Henry stopped his antics and swerved around to see another ghost lying on the floor, a giant sword of some kind pinning him down. He was dressed in a similar fashion to the beanie ghost, just minus the beanie.

"You're the guy that lives here?" Henry asked. "You're all ghostly, too. Must suck."

"Yeah, it does, but you can't die anymore so it sort of balances out. Anyway, while I don't have any drinks, I know where you can find some."

"Are you shitting me, because I'm really not in the mood."

"No, no, of course not. You can get to the Bar Ashfield if you go from here and take the elevator."

"Bar Ashfield? Whatever." Henry went for the door, but found that it was locked. "The door's locked, man!"

"I know," the ghost said. "The key's in my pants. I'd get it myself… but I have this giant sword impaling me and I can't reach. You know how it is." Henry walked over and inspected him.

"They key's in your pants? Why the hell is it there?"

"I don't know. I was too drunk at the time to realize what I was doing, and then that guy with the sock came in…"

"Whatever, I don't want to hear your stupid story. I'm not going to reach into your pants, though."

"Well, the key is the only way to get the door open. Hey… if you took this sword out, I could get it and unlock the door."

"No way!" Henry answered immediately. "I don't know where the hell that thing's been!"

"Me neither, but it's not like you have to keep it or anything. You just have to take it out. It couldn't be any worse than taking the key out. Trust me on that one." The ghost winked and Henry felt physically, as well as mentally, sick.

Henry contemplated his course of action for a moment, and then sighed. "I guess I don't have a choice. Alright, hold still…" He planted his foot on the ghost's chest and grasped the hilt of the sword. With a mighty breath Henry pulled at the sword will all of his strength. It didn't budge in the slightest.

"Come on, dude, put some back into it!" the ghost said, and Henry shot him a nasty glare. Taking another breath, he pulled and pulled until it felt like his entire back was going to give out due to the strain. Finally, the sword slipped out and Henry collapsed in exhaustion. The ghost got up and reached into his pants, fished around a bit, then brought out a wet key, titled: Wet Key lol

"Here's the key," the ghost told Henry. "Thanks for your help." It floated through the wall and was gone. Henry sighed and hesitantly grabbed the key and unlocked the door. The second he was done with it, he threw it to the side and continued on his way with a new destination in mind: Bar Ashfield.

Henry entered a large room next, with a giant fan spinning overhead. The floor appeared to be composed of dead skin, and he gingerly stepped over it with disgust. Leaving that place, Henry found himself in a parking lot. The sounds of the monkey-people were very much alive in this place, so Henry hurried on through another alleyway and towards a massive elevator that was built into a steel wall. Filled with giddiness at the thought of his alcohol so close, Henry pushed the "Call" button. The button was jammed.

"Oh, you've got to be shitting me!" Henry snarled as he smacked it with a fist. Frowning, he turned to leave, and that's when the elevator doors did open. Henry performed an about-face and backed away at what he saw.

A man wearing clothing identical to Henry's walked out, and in his hand was a large, gnarly axe. His shirt was splattered with stains of crimson, and his tousled brown hair was parted at a place opposite to where Henry's hair was parted. He was a bit more rugged, though.

"Who the hell are you?" Henry demanded, fearful and awestruck at the same time. The man stared at him dumbly.

"Uh, I'm Henry. Henry Townshend."

"Henry Townshend?" Henry folded his arms and bowed his head in thought, and then he gasped and bounded back, pointing at the other Henry with an accusatory finger. "You're the guy those damn telemarketers keep confusing me with!" he exclaimed. "You live in the southern 'Heights, right? I'm at North Ashfield Heights."

"North Ashfield Heights?" the other Henry asked. "There isn't a North Ashfield Heights, though, only a South Ashfield Heights, where I live." He scratched his head. "Are you sure you're not confusing me with someone else?"

"No, of course I'm not!" Henry tugged at his hair in bewilderment. "Oh, but it doesn't matter, anyway!"

"Hmm…" The other Henry looked around and sighed. "This isn't the same place I was just in. There's something different about it…"

"What are you rambling on about?"

"Nothing. Anyway, I have to get going." He walked past him but then looked back. "Oh, and another thing—watch out for that kid." With that, the other Henry ran off, leaving Henry dumbstruck.

'What was all that about…? Whatever, it's not important.' Turning back to the elevator, Henry reaffirmed his grasp on his bat and entered. Once inside, Henry noticed that the "Top" button for the elevator had malfunctioned, so he had no other choice than to press the "Bottom" button. Instantly the doors shut themselves and he heard gears begin turning. The elevator started to drop slowly, and then it increased in speed as it went. Henry leaned against the back wall of the elevator, and when he looked to his left he saw another elevator was passing by upwards, and through the mesh fencing of the wall he saw Richard and the little boy, Walter.

Richard was staring straight into the boy's eyes, his revolver very apparent in his hand. "Now what would a little shit like you being doing around here, huh?" Walter took several steps back, but Richard advanced forward even more. "Do you know something about what's going on around here, well do you? You know… you look a lot like that stoner kid that used to hang around the 'Heights all those years back… Yeah…" Richard chuckled maniacally, and that's when Walter bolted it out of there. "Wait, get back here!" Richard yelled while chasing after him.

"Don't molest the kid, Richie!" Henry tried to say, but their elevator was already much too high up. After a few seconds Henry's stopped and the doors opened, revealing a ladder nailed to the side of the wall. Henry descended it and dropped down into some type of shower room. Water was dripping down and the place reeked of mold and excretion and stagnant water. Pinching his nose, Henry worked his way towards another ladder, and this one led him out of a manhole and onto a narrow street which he recognized very quickly.

"Hey, it's the little Chinatown!" he cried happily while running around in glee. Unfortunately, monkey-men and some more dogs were there to greet him, so Henry raced out into the next area, where a large catwalk was present. Dreading this horribly, Henry ascended it as fast as he could—in the process he killed a stray monkey-man—and walked aimlessly into a bar. Bar Ashfield.

"I finally made it!" Henry exclaimed as he jogged up to the bar, avoiding the pool table before it smacked him in the thigh. Much to his dismay, however, nothing was present behind the bar or on any of the shelves. It was completely empty and barren. There was not even a single, dusty glass. Henry was open-mouthed. "You call this a bar? Who in the hell runs this place?" As if to answer his question, he noticed a notice on the counter.

Due to there being a theft next door, the manager wanted us to program a new code for the security on the front door. Since he's got short-term memory, we had to make the code something that could easily be referred to, so we made it the last few digits of the bar's telephone number. I wasn't the one who made the decision, though; it was Glenda. Glenda… gosh is she hot. I mean, her th-eh, I shouldn't really be writing about this here… I haven't taken my medication for today yet, so…

"Security? Code?" Henry murmured as he looked at the entrance door. There was a numbered panel on it, but he had no way of finding out the specific digits of the telephone number. 'Wait a minute, I can see the bar's sign from my apartment window! Perhaps I can find some booze yet!' Filled with a renewed hope and purpose, Henry climbed through the hole in the bar wall.

(WOOSH…) Intermission.

(Ding) Now back to your scheduled program.

When Henry returned to Room 203, he heard a rapping at the door. "Damn it, Irene, is your only purpose in life to cause me agitation?" Upon checking the peephole, though, Henry saw that it wasn't Irene. No one was even there. Instead, on the hallway wall was something etched in what Henry still continued to believe ketchup.

Dude, uh, I think you better check on your neighbor. She's pretty hot… Oh, wait… Lawlz, wrong neighbor!

Henry groaned and trudged back to the wall's peephole. "Irene, are you okay?" he asked tiredly, and while at first he didn't see anyone, soon he spotted her walking into her bedroom, wearing what appeared to be a stripper version of a nurse costume. "Irene, what the hell is that?"

The woman stopped and looked around with wide eyes. "Who said that…? Is it my conscience…?" she asked stupidly.

"No, Irene, it's me, Henry."

"Oh, Henry…!" She giggled and crawled back up the hole. "What are you doing peeking at me again, Henry…? Didn't you want your alcohol…? 'Cause I drank all of it…"

"You drank the whole bottle? I was going to get it from you after I got out of here!"

"…I'm sorry Henry, it's just that I got really thirsty…"

"Whatever, I'm leaving to go get some alcohol. Have fun screwing yourself." He stomped to his bedroom furiously, seething, "I swear, once I meet her face-to-face I'll rip her ovaries out! That way, she'll never be able to enjoy children of her own!"

Henry figured it would be safer for the children, too. Regardless, he peered out of the window and saw the sign advertising Bar Ashfield. The last four digits were 6789. 'Sweet,' Henry thought. 'Now we can get this show on the road!'

(WOOSH…) Intermission.

(Ding) Now back to your scheduled program.

Henry jammed the password into the panel, heard the desired CLICK, and found himself on the greatest catwalk EVAR. And I really do mean EVAR. Henry could not see the top at all, and the passage leading lower had been destroyed. 'That's a long way up…' Out of the darkness Henry heard a sudden, high-pitched scream, followed by, "GET THAT SOCK AWAY FROM MY MOUTH!"

"Hey, that sounded like Richie!" Henry exclaimed, but several ghosts began to climb out of the walls. Henry's brow went up like that and he started running as fast as he could up the catwalk. His footsteps rang in-and-out of his ears as the ghosts followed him quickly, all of them reaching out for whatever weed he might have. The beanie ghost was hovering before him on the next landing, laughing.

"Hey, you've still got all that monkey stuff on you!"

"OUTOFTHEWAY!" Henry screamed monstrously as he shoved the beanie ghost to his left; it tripped over the edge and fell to the bottom.

Meanwhile, Henry sped up and finally made it to the last landing, where fortunately there was a door. On the door's surface were the numbers, 307, and below that was another plaque. This one was a deep violet, and the picture inscribed in it was even harder to identify. It read, FLUFFY, and Henry did not see the correlation. Nevertheless, he shoved the plaque into his pants and opened the door…

He was in Room 307 of North Ashfield Heights, and in the center of the room was an electrical chair. Sitting in it was Richard, and he was being shocked and electrocuted. His skin was sizzling and his eyes were lolled back in their sockets; blood streamed down them and his nose. On his forehead was 1921.

"Richie, you idiot, look what you've gone and done now!" Henry said as he approached. Behind the chair little Walter was pointing through the window at something, but he mysteriously vanished all of a sudden. "Hey, where'd you go?" Henry questioned, and Richard started to try and speak.

"…T-T-That… is not… a… k-KID… it's t-the… 1….12…1…"

"Come on, Richie, spit it out!" Henry urged, and the man cried out.

"I t-told… YOU NOT… TO CALL ME THAT!" The chair's power source shut down and Richard fell still, dead. Henry slapped him and shook him by the shoulders.

"Richie, who is the kid? Tell me!" Alas, Richard was dead, and Henry felt that woozy feeling resurface. Everything started to go black…

To be continued…