Silent Hill: Resonance

Chapter 13: Faster, Pussycat! Kill! Kill!

Vrrooooom!

The sound of the speedboat zipping across Toluca's waters was the only sound I could hear as I took a moment to relax on Darko's boat. Using the loud motor to my advantage, drowning out any wriggling thoughts in my head, I simply laid back. My head resting on the back of the seat, this was the first time since I've been here where I could just not do anything…And it was relaxing.

God, I felt as though I had been through Hell and back, as if the town itself were playing some sick joke on me. And the second something had become a little clearer, something else came in to bewilder me.

There were the police: Bennett, Collard, and Petross. They were helping me, of course, they make an oath to protect and serve but…I had been told stories and read newspapers about the very police and government of this town perverse with corruption. What stops these officers from doing the same?

There was Darko Takacs: A city council member who was hellbent on getting the police and FBI out of Silent Hill – even giving us the keys of his speedboat we were in right now. I have no doubt he has ulterior motives – he was a suspect in the PTV trade, but was caught with nothing red-handed for now.

There was Aaron Trinidad: His family had started in the PTV trade many years ago before their company became "legitimate". He was very suspicious and knew a hell of a lot more than he let on. I was amazed by the great amount of…not maturity, not intellect…but resourcefulness he had for a seventeen year old.

And there was me: Jacob Ryan, twenty-nine, and in the middle of the most fucked up experience of my entire life. Was I making my own moves, getting one more step closer of getting home to Joey? Or was I just a puppet, whose strings are being pulled by some malevolent force, trapping me further in the webs of this hellhole?

Friend or fiend? Is anything as it seems in this town?

Aaron's back was turned to me, he was doing a remarkably fine job steering this boat. Although he had no map or compass, he seemed to know exactly where he was going through this supernatural fog. His beige sports coat flapped lightly in the blistering cold breeze that blew across the lake's surface.

I built some courage to ask out loud, "Aaron…What…What exactly do you know about the PTV trade? I mean, for God's sake, you knew where all the stashes were. Is your family really out of the drug ring?"

Aaron didn't respond, I was about to continue my questioning when he answered, "You know…There are a lot of secrets in Silent Hill. Pretty faces hide evil minds. Jake…You need to be more careful with what you tell people."

"Wh-What do you mean? Listen, I'm the one that's been running back and forth in this godforsaken town, blindly following orders so I can go home!"

I was going to continue, but I noticed that Aaron had taken his hands off the wheel, allowing the boat to slow down. Looking as if he were using his hands to scribble something down on some paper. He was just writing me off!

I had enough of people giving me the runaround, never telling me a straight answer. Just as I was about to tell him off, Aaron leaned around and handed me the slip of paper. It was hastily scratched, but it was legible.

Don't say anything else! Could be bugs hidden in boat. MAINE IS A ONE CONSENT STATE!

I sighed deeply, understanding where he was coming from. However, this only proved his family was guilty in my mind. So, I guess that's what Darko meant when he said not to trust the Trinidads. But Aaron knew obviously knew what was going on and where everything is. He knew this city like the back of his hand.

But if Aaron was involved in the drug trade…Then was he leading us to a large stash? Why would he sabotage his own family's operations?

…Unless it was a trap.

The thought hadn't crossed my mind until now, but now it was the only thing that crossed it. Oh my God…He's going to try and kill us all. I tried to think about this rationally, but everything came together too perfectly. Suspicion and paranoia, evil whisperings in my ear, they all accumulated to this. I didn't know what to do, expect the pipe in my hand felt extraordinarily heavy…

I have to do this now!

I steadily stood up, pipe ready and in hand while his back was turned. Step by step across the boat's floor and surface. The rear-view mirror showed his dark brown eyes were staring straight ahead. Staring straight ahead until his eyes shifted and met mine.

As if I had entered bullet time, he slowly reached for the inside of his coat as he spun around. At the same time, I sprinted forward bringing the pipe over my head. As he brought up the gun, I slammed the pipe down on his wrist, lead meeting bone as the pistol violently slipped from his wrist. His fist hit full force against my crotch, knocking the air left my stomach.

Wrapping my arms around his midsection, I tackled him down to a hard corner near the wheel. In a struggle of muscles and fists, we wrestled back and forth. Although I had him pinned in the corner, he was strong.

The boat began to jump and shake. I looked up, through the windshield, and the boat rammed against the jagged rock in front of us. My vision blurred and shook, as the sound of tearing metal and wood, shattering glass, and splashing water filled my ears as I was lifted off the ground and the boat flipped to its side and upside down.

Single temperature waters felt like razor blades all over my skin and face, my lungs felt as though they were on fire, my vision covered in a dark blurry filter. Pieces of shrapnel shot through and floated on the water. Aaron had disappeared, but a trail of blood led me to believe the worst…

…Or was that blood mine?

My vision went dark.

A tickle across my chin and cheeks was the next thing I felt. A feeling from my stomach quickly shot up to my mouth and through my lips. Water coughed out of my mouth as my bloodshot eyes opened. Turning on my side, warm bile and puke followed. Emptying, once more, a very empty stomach.

My hand formed into a fist, the dry sands of a beach slipping through. I coughed and dry heaved helplessly for some time, pathetically, before I turned over and saw Darko Takacs standing a few feet away. He looked out of place, still wearing his dark coat and flannel on a sandy beach. I attempted to stand up, but my legs were too weak, I only collapsed back onto the soft sand.

"That was…something else," Darko began, "I must admit, it's unfortunate what happened to my boat…But what's even more unfortunate is that you disregarded what I told you. There's a fully fueled helicopter at Brookhaven, waiting for takeoff, but instead you're here."

I sprawled out dramatically, all my limbs extending as if I were about to create a sand angel, "Why? So we don't find your drug stash? So Aaron could ambush us? No...That's not how this works. You can't just chase us out of town to protect your sick drug money!"

"If I didn't want you to get here, why would I save your life? Why would I give you mouth-to-mouth?"

"I don't fucking know!" I shouted back in retaliation, "I don't understand what it is! All this bullshit! You never tell me anything, all you people ever do is talk in riddles."

Darko crouched down, his face directly looking down to mine, "Then let me make this clear. You need to stop. You're going to die if you don't. Now, I am quite aware that your police friends are here as well. So get to Devil's Pit, find the drugs, and then get the hell out of Silent Hill."

He reached inside his pocket and pulled out a map, dropping it next to my side. He reached back in once more and pulled out a small pistol, which he delicately laid on top of said map. He chuckled, "Believe me, Jacob. I am on your side. I'm not pretending, unlike the Trinidad, that having you leave doesn't benefit me. It most certainly does. The Trinidad is doing everything in his power to have you stay."

"Why? I don't understand…" I strained out through a weak throat.

"Good luck, Jacob. I hope I don't need to point you in the right way again." Was all his response as he continued walking down the shore.

I continued to lay on the sand a while longer, completely exasperated and exhausted. But I eventually forced myself up and ready to go. Following the map, I had to head down the road until I hit the Arial tram station.

So, there I was, hair and clothes dripping and soaked with a sickening mixture icy water, sweat, sand, and vomit. My toes were numbing and soles grinding against the rough and beaten asphalt. In my hand, I held my waterlogged shoes and socks. I was moving as fast as I could, but I couldn't bring myself to anything faster than a quick walk. Coming to a quick halt, I slowly peered around my shoulder… nothing but the oppressive fog.

I had finally reached the bridge that would lead my way to the tram. This was madness, why I was still going ahead was unbeknownst to me, but I simply continued to trudge one foot in front of the other. It was the only way I knew now. But through the fog, I did see something...

A corpse. A corpse laid in the middle of the road, it was bloodied and shattered. It was a woman, with dark hair and dark skin. She was wearing a Maine State Police uniform... It was Collard. My heart dropping to the pits of my stomach, I ran to her sprawled body. A man's voice broke my ragged breathing, "It-It was an accident!"

I turned my head and leaning against the guardrail was Jonathan. His hands visibly shaking. I exploded once more, "Holy Christ! Oh my God! Jonathan, what the hell did you do!? Don't tell me..."

"It was an accident! I thought...I thought...I thought she was one of them!"

"One of who!? You killed her! You fucking killed her!"

"One of the monsters! She... She wasn't human! And when I killed her, she was!"

I was relieved for a second, I wasn't going insane. Jonathan had seen these monsters too! But... If these beasts could somehow shapeshift, things changed. I brought my head down in a quick attempt to regain my thoughts.

I raised my head back up to see the corpse was still there. But... the blood was gone. And instead of Collard, it was Petross. Collard was now in Jonathan's place, "She-She just stopped."

No. No. No. No no no no no. I'm going crazy. This isn't right. I...I can't be... I'm hallucinating.

The corpse was gone now. And Collard's place was now replaced with Aaron, leaning over the rail into the rough waters below. He looked back at me, tears welling in his eyes, "I-I don't know what happened. He just slipped. I don't even know how he fell over the rail, it happened so fast!"

I forced myself, step by step to approach Aaron's position. Unknowing of what awaited down below. It was a man, mangled and slashed and limbs and bones bent in impossible contortions on the rocks below. The heavy waters slamming against his lifeless body. His black hair had covered his eyes, but his dark green button up was stained with blood - It was me.

Then... Who was I?

I looked at my hands. They were pale and white and they didn't belong to myself. My thoughts, my experiences, my soul was trapped in another man's body.

I ran.

I ran as fast as I could, a final burst of energy took off in me. My bare feet were abused, chaffed, muddied, and splintered. But I continued running until I found myself at a small gas station far down the road.

Not even bothering to keep up appearances, knowing damn well nobody would be inside, I charged in. Finding a restroom in the back, I walked in and instantly checked myself in the cracked and chipping mirror.

I was me. I was...a wreck. Deep, hollow, black soulless circles hung underneath my eyes. A patchy five o' clock shadow grew across my cheeks, jaw, and chin. A cold condensation escaped from my chattering teeth.

My hands reached for my soaked second skin. Dropping the coat to the floor with a flop. Shaking hands and fingers unbuttoned my shirt and unzipped my pants. Peeling off my tank top, a freezing breath of air brushed across my exposed chest and stomach. So there I stood, staring into my dark eyes, glossy with tears…

I was myself.