Chapter 7

She turned to give the office papers a final look, but she could only take a moment. She needed to move on and find a safe way out. She gave the final book a flip through and a newspaper clipping fell from onto the dusty desk blotter below. The headline read, "Prison Riot Ends Tragically."

The article was shocking for the era. Most details should've been white-washed to quell citizen fears. A guard was murdered and his body was found in the lake a week earlier. The event prompted prison officials to crack down on the inmates because no one came forth to admit guilt. No one told on the guilty party for fear of retribution. The reporter supposed the inmates' resentment towards management had built as the accusations of prisoner torture had built in town.

The article claimed on the evening of the riot, one particularly rowdy group was denied supper for bad behavior. They rioted. The rampaging crowd killed over twenty prisoners, ten guards, and several escaped into the lake. Several inmates were "firebugs," and burned down several houses as well as a few businesses in town during the night. The firebugs were both awaiting trial where they would be ordered to Cedar Grove Sanitarium. For a night, there were a total of five rapes and seven murders in the tiny town of Silent Hill.

The inmates had created a massive escape route in back of the prison, within the earth. The townspeople were livid at the negligence of prison management. The wardens had ordered the inmates to dig, claiming it was hard labor to create another addition for the prison. But, the inmates simply tunneled up through the earth until they were free.

Her mind returned to the long stairwell she'd just ascended earlier. Was that where they escaped? Well, it was time for her to escape, too. That thing up above was likely gone if it hadn't caught her by now. She opened the office door and turned to journey back up to the surface, but she nearly ran into a wall. The doorway was now sealed. She looked at it a moment and tried to gather her bearings. She touched the newly formed wall. It was solid. She knocked on it, but it wouldn't be budged. The wall appeared just as those around her, as if it had been there for years. Someone had written in large red letters, "No Going Back Now." The red liquid still shone in the overhead lights.

The door that had been to the left when she came down was locked. She opened the central door that led into another barren hallway. It ended at yet another heavy, metal door. She pushed it open.

The rusty metal groaned, but moved. The next room appeared to be a cafeteria, at some point in history. It was vile now. The rioting must've taken place here because everything was covered in grime, chairs were thrown about and numerous trays had been scattered across several tables. A lone painting hung on the far wall, at an angle. It looked exactly like the cafeteria she stood in. She walked forward and out the next door.

The hallway outside looked much like the cafeteria. The barred doors surrounding her had either rusted open or shut and rust now formed haphazard burgundy patterns on the walls and floor. How the hell did you get out of this place? There weren't any footprints on the floor, desks were covered in as much dust and grime as everything else. It could've been decades since someone was down here last. Maybe I'll never be found. She explored the new area, the cells and even the old showers. She found a door outside, she burst into a sprint. She was going home. She was never coming back to Silent Hill. She was…

She came to a dead halt at the guillotine. This was no exit. This was some kind of execution yard. The gallows were in remarkably good condition for the prison's age. The interior looked worse than the exterior and that included the shelter of metal sheeting.

She slowly walked ahead and, as she expected, a massive concrete wall towered high above her. An empty lookout tower stood far above each corner of the wall. It was no exit. Maybe she just needed to find some rope. If she could somehow climb up the side of the wall, she could just jump down from the other side.

She returned to the old prison with a slight feeling of empowerment. Maybe it wasn't as bleak as she feared. All she had to do was find a way to get over that wall. She would be free and on her way.

She rounded another block of cells and came down on the opposite side of where she entered. She came to a hole in the floor. Someone had opened a hatch that led down into darkness. She could jump. She could jump and perhaps she would just go to a basement or something. Or not.

The handle was comprised of a wax base holding a horseshoe upright. She wouldn't touch it. There was no way of knowing how old that mechanism was or if that was purposeful. Maybe that was to allow some kind of air flow within the old prison so mold and toxins wouldn't develop.

She walked to the nearest green metal door, it groaned open when she put her weight behind it. She'd hoped for a janitorial or maintenance closet. Instead, she found another lengthy stairwell that descended down into more darkness. Well, what choice was there? There was no rope or tools anywhere up here. If it was another dead end, she could always come back. Hopefully.

She pulled out her flashlight and shone it down the incline. It appeared sturdy enough to walk down. She slowly walked, mindful of the sounds of creaking metal and grinding rust. She came to the bottom and stopped. More blips blinked and more voices spoke. She heard two men:

"They'll never know what hit 'em."

"You think we'll get away with it?"

"Sure, who's suspecting it? We're the only ones who know about it."

"What if we get caught?"

"What are they going to do? We're on the chopping block in a week."

"Yea, you're right… so, when do we start?"

"Five minutes. They don't know we saw them push that guard in the water. Black has been riding my ass all week. He's not going to do it anymore because of what they did. It's us or them. You get Hackney and I'll get Fowler. Most of the guys are half-starved, so they're ready for anything."

She remembered how the camera picked them up the last time. She quickly pulled out the digital and aimed at the men. The prisoners didn't look like our modern criminals, in any regard. They had incredibly short hair, none of them sported tattoos, and they were all rail-thin. Starvation. They kept them hungry. That must've really been what fueled the riot.

The blips faded into the past and she was again alone, the stairway again silent. Maybe it would be better to highlight what happened in the prison instead of only those missing. If the two who killed the guards weren't also responsible for the riot, it had to be the men she'd just heard. That was, of course, accepting that she actually escaped the prison herself.

She reached the bottom of the stairs and switched the flashlight off. There were lights down here, too. She opened the door and a wave of foul odor hit. The stench was like walking into a tangible wall. She put a hand across her nose and took a moment to steady herself. She stumbled around in the dim light, she almost fell, but caught herself on a table. Fortunately, the mobile table wouldn't easily move or she would've fallen.

She steadied her body and paused. There were bodies in here. Bodies everywhere. There were six openings on the wall that held bodies. Gurney's that held bodies. Dried gore and trails of blood were everywhere. She was not touching those gurneys. She might find success if she pulled one back up to the execution yard, but she wasn't even attempting it. It was disgusting. What the hell was this? Bodies from the prison would be reduced to skeletal remains by now, if not dust.

She was not staying here. She had the sudden fear that the bodies really weren't dead. That they really weren't quite or still. That any moment, all those bloody corpses would come to life. She picked up her pace and came to another opening in the floor. They dumped the bodies in here? What the hell was this? Another lower level? She tiptoed around the edge and moved to the door ahead. How many stories did this place have?

She was so tired. She was hungry and thirsty, too. It wasn't any mystery how the prisoners had gone mad. She felt mad herself and she'd just been in the structure a few hours. Or had it even been that? Regardless of the time, she felt as mad as a hatter. In many ways, it felt like she'd been there several days. Already dead.

She followed the next set of steps mechanically and without hope. She had no expectations of what she would find. She may descend these steps for the rest of eternity. Maybe this was hell. Maybe the Executioner had killed her back at the museum and this was hell. Maybe it's already too late. Maybe it's already a waste of effort to try. Maybe he got to me when I tried running. Maybe he sliced me in two and I had no idea. Maybe this is my eternity.

She descended the steps with a sigh. She couldn't give up now. She couldn't listen to those possibilities. It wasn't over. It couldn't be. The next floor was equally strange. Cruel, archaic looking hooks hung from the ceiling down here. Old rusty knives hung on the walls. A grated hole in the floor below indicated a massive drainage area below. What the hell was this?

She pushed open the nearest door and found another dusty office. The papers on the desk read: "Silent Hill Butchering." The originator of that name would likely never know how applicable it would be with those Executioner things roaming the region.

She pulled her pencil back out and flipped though some papers. She didn't find anything that piqued her interest. The drawers below came out with some nudging, metal grated against rust.

She pulled out a ledger that was much like the one she found in the prison office above. She pulled out her camera to see if it would work down here. It did. Everything was new and legible again in the little screen.

The entries started out, "While the prison is now closed, we are finding success with operating the butchery area. We now have contracts to supply the Lakeview as well as the butcher shop and several restaurants in Silent Hill. The first year's profits were agreeable and the next year appears to be just as promising."

She dug below to find several newspaper clippings. One headline read, "A Positive Outcome."

The article read:

"Silent Hill was distressed to see the prison close after the riot. Many citizens, employed by the penal facility, lost their jobs when the state closed the institution. Fortunately, some quick thinking residents may have saved those jobs. The Silent Hill Butchering Company has found rapid success and, just last week, brought in the last person to lose their prison job…"

She pulled another scrapbook from the bottom of the drawer. The first clipping read, "A Match Starts a Wildfire."

She finally found what happened that night. But, why was this in a newspaper? It was far too graphic for most printers at the time of the incident. The article read:

"Inmates of the Toluca Prison prepared for dinner as usual two nights ago. The stringent and minimal meals were a form of punishment after the tragic murder of Donald Sullivan, a long-time guard at the prison. Witnesses report at 6:05, two inmates grabbed two other prisoners and killed them. That set off a chain of events, including a major fire, and as a result, the majority of the 86 prisoners escaped.

"The tragedies witnessed in Silent Hill that night are too graphic and brutal to be listed in any detail. The evening ended with the fire at the Lakeview Recital. The annual gala used to feature local talent was disrupted when a fire started in the theater. Four hundred and seventeen persons were killed from burns or smoke inhalation. The remaining nineteen required hospitalization."

She photographed the documents and exited the office. She felt despondent in the old room with the hooks. She was never going to find a way out. She was never going to go home. She was dead. That had to be it. She was dead and this was her punishment for taking that nice, safe normal life for granted.

She heard something metal clang somewhere in the distance. She heard a gunshot and waited. It couldn't be the Executioner, she knew his sound well. Even if it was, maybe she was already doomed to confront him. There was no reason to procrastinate the meeting. She walked towards the sound.