This spiral was just like the one before it…bodies, fog, metal stairs. No animals, no ghosts, and no Walter. The Hole was in the same place, too, and this time when I had to leave Eileen behind I knew that she'd be OK.

Something was screaming.

I stumbled out of bed and down the hallway. There was crying and wailing coming from somewhere out front, and the moment I rounded the corner of the front room I knew just where.

Of all of the things I saw that day and night…all of the creatures and weirdness and horrific twisted torturous things, this might have been the most horrible, the most insane. Worse than the double-headed babies, even. I backed up and hit my heel against the ceiling fan and nearly fell over the coffee table, but I could have fallen out of the window for all I knew.

For on the wall over my storage chest, filling the whole space, were tiny little babies, their bodies coming out of the goddamn wall. Dozens of them. Gray like the wall, naked, sightless. Their tiny mouths opened and closed, and they were crying weakly like kittens, voices rising and falling and echoing through the otherwise silent room. Each one would rise up and wail for a while, then sink back into the wall to be replaced by others. It was like an ocean full of bouncing bobbing undead haunted babies…a nursery of the damned. It was mesmerizing, watching them…there were little noses and ears and fingers and toes…until it really hit me.

I remember my hands shaking as I lit the candle. It took me two or three tries to get it lit, along with a good deal of cursing, and I eventually managed to place it on the floor in front of the chest…and then they were disappearing, sinking back into the wall. I watched them go, one by one, until there was one left. It looked at me with its sightless eyes, and its lips moved. I strained to hear the words it spoke.

"…thank you..."

Oh God.

And it was gone…

Give me a minute, will you?

I understood the plan now. If I was right, we'd be at the forest next, and then there would be another spiral staircase to the prison, then another to the buildings, and then another to the apartment…

And then what?

Well, that was a few hours into the future. We'd deal with that when it came up. I dumped the tokens and the commuter ticket into my chest and checked myself for any other injuries serious enough to merit a sip of brown sludgy goodness. It wasn't until then that I noticed how clean my clothes were. The blood that Cynthia had ripped out of me, the slug guts, the dirt of the subway – all of it was gone. Everything I was wearing was just like new again…even if I wasn't. At least that hadn't changed.

So I'm still hurt, but at least my clothes are fine. Walter's Hell has instant dry cleaning and mending. Uh…thanks, I guess?

Eileen was sitting on the steps with her legs hanging over the edge, slapping her riding crop against the metal railing, when I struggled to my feet.

"You OK?"

She must have seen something in my face. I was probably pale or something. But there was no way in hell that I was going to tell her about the babies, or the clock or the window or any of that stuff. She didn't need to worry about me, and there wasn't anything she could do about it anyway.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Let's get going."

"Where? Do you know?"

"Next should be some forest. There were these bird-bat things there before, and some dogs…it may be worse this time."

"Bird-bats?"

"Yeah. You'll understand when you see them. They're not too bad."

"Think I could take them on with this?"

"Actually, you might be able to. They're fast, but not too fast, and they should go down pretty easily. Just be careful."

"I will. I don't want you having to worry about me."

"I do anyway."

"Thanks. But I wish you didn't have to."

The door led to the cemetery in the forest. Of course. It was the same locked door I'd noticed when I was there last, on the far wall. The cemetery was the same as before, too…nothing new but for the swarm of bird-bats that rose up from the open coffin. Turned out that Eileen's riding crop was pretty good against them, and working together we took them down in record time.

Eileen looked rather pleased with herself, and I didn't blame her at all.

"What a weird place," she said, looking around. "Dark as hell."

"Yeah. It was this way before, too."

"Any idea where this is?"

"We're by the lake, just outside Silent Hill. The cult's orphanage is just up thataway."

"Cult? You mean, that's all real?"

"As far as I can tell, yeah."

Eileen shook her head. "Wow. I thought that that was all just a rumor."

"You'll get the full tour in a few minutes, believe me."

This time, the torch-lamp in the corner was lit. Orange light flickered over the gravestones and moved in their inscriptions.

"Do you remember that cheesy Halloween haunted house that they used to have by the cemetery across town?" Eileen asked.

"Yeah. The one with the vats of bubbling goo and the seven-foot-tall set of knight's armor, right?"

Eileen laughed. "Yeah. It used to swing a poleaxe at you as you ran down the hall. I'll never forget that."

"Me neither. It scared the hell out of my mom the first time we ever went." She'd sworn she'd never go back, but between me bugging her and Dad insisting that a good scare was good for her, we'd ended up going every year anyway. I think he enjoyed it even more than I did.

"Really? Mine too!"

"They haven't done a haunted house there in years. I kind of miss it."

"Yeah. This makes me think of that…but without the cheese factor. Almost as if...as if that was an imitation, and this is the original."

"I know what you mean."

She hobbled over to one of the tall stone monuments, and squinted at the red letters on them.

"This is weird," she said. "It's...like something a kid would write."

"You can read it?"

"Yeah. No idea how, but it makes sense."

"What does it say?"

"Here goes.

October 2nd. I played with Bob.
It was fun, but I went too far away and "He" got angry.

"That's it."

"There's more of that later," I said. "Let me know if anything interesting turns up."

As Eileen wandered around, looking at the tombstones, I went to investigate the lamp by the gate. It crackled and flickered happily in its crevice in the corner of the graveyard. At its foot lay a long clublike thing with its end wrapped in rags, like a huge cotton swab. It would have made a decent club, actually, given its length and weight, but its intended purpose was obvious.

"Eileen!"

"Hm?"

"Check this out. This should solve the darkness problem."

It felt good and heavy in my hands, but then again anything that could potentially damage the undead felt pretty good in my hands just then. She limped up to me and stared at it, then grinned.

"Definitely. Let's get out of here."

She shivered, and I realized that that little dress she was wearing probably wasn't very warm. It was short and had no back or sleeves at all, and seemed to be made of some thin stretchy stuff.

"You're cold, aren't you?" That's me, master of the obvious.

"Not really, no," she lied. But not very well. She was in bad enough shape already…what could I do to help?

"Hold this for a minute," I said, handing her the torch. I started to unbutton my shirt. It wasn't much, but it would help keep the chill off of her skin.

"What? Henry, no…"

"No, it's OK. I have a T-shirt on under this."

"No, really, Henry, don't."

I stopped, confused. She was obviously cold, but…oh.

"Oh. Sorry." I started buttoning up again.

She took one look at me, and her hand was on my arm. "No, it's not like that. I didn't mean…"

No, Eileen, it's OK, really. You don't know where this shirt has been, anyway. I do, and I'm not going to tell you unless I have to.

She sighed, and raised an eyebrow. "This is dumb. We shouldn't be this awkward around each other. It's not you, Henry, not in any way. I'm OK, really. That shirt…you need it more than I do."

"But…you're cold. I can tell." Any moron could. It had taken me long enough to figure out, hadn't it?

She shrugged. "A little bit, but moving around helps me keep warm. And anyway, if you gave it to me, all you'd have between them and you would be that T-shirt. You need it more than I do. Really. I'll be fine."

I frowned at her.

"Really?"

"Really."

"I don't like this."

"I know. Thank you for offering. I'll be OK."

"If you say so."

"Believe me, Henry, I'll let you know if I start having problems. Of any kind."

"Guess I have to trust you on that."

"I trust you with my life."

What could I say to that? Still, it was easier to look at the torch in my hands at that moment than it was to look at her.

"How about we light this thing up?" I asked. "It'll help you keep warm, too."

She smiled. "Sounds good to me."

I touched the dingy cotton rags to the fire, and they burst into flame that crackled cheerfully at us. It was a little warmer, and I felt happier about that than about the light that somehow didn't seem to spread as far as it should.

My hand was on the handle of one of the huge double doors when I heard it…the same sound that we'd heard on our way out of the subway just a few minutes before.

Click.

The hammer of a gun…dammit!

I pulled the door open as fast as I could and ushered Eileen through. As I turned to close the door, I saw him – Walter – striding purposefully directly toward us, with the familiar dark circle of the gun barrel pointed at my face. Time to go.

The fenced-in area beyond looked just the same as it had before. Dark well, trees, long winding path toward the next gate, nothing new…but for two hellhounds prowling around the other end of the path, and Eileen leaning against the well, catching her breath.

"I can't believe it!" she said as I hurried toward her. "Doesn't he ever let up?"

"Don't know," I said quickly. I held the torch near her, to warm her a little. "He hasn't been around this much before. But it doesn't seem like it," I continued, "and we've got to get out of here before he comes through those doors. Let's go."

She turned toward the path, but stopped and swiveled around as best she could. "Henry!"

"What?"

"There's something in the well. Down there! You can just see it in the light."

"Don't have time for that now."

"But – "

"If it's important, I'll come back for it. Come on!"

And there he was, smiling at us. But I hadn't heard the doors open and close…whatever. I grabbed Eileen's hand and pulled her down the path as fast as I could, but it wasn't fast enough. The dogs were coming at us, and I couldn't fight them off with one hand. I had to let her go.

"Henry – "

"It's OK. Go. I'll be right behind you."

That torch not only laid a good wallop on the dogs, but it also burned holes into their raw flesh. Thank God I was getting used to the smell by now. But even then, I barely made it to the gate in time to get it open and shove both of us through, bullets whizzing by all the time. There was another dog in the next space, but it was easier to dodge one than two, and we made it to the gate safely. Through the gate, and we'd be in the (reasonably) safe confines of Wish House.

Something wasn't right. The air was full of smoke…

Oh my God.

Wish House had been a moderate-sized but imposing structure before, with two floors and windows all the way around on the top floor. Now…all that was left was smoke and charred wood and a few floorboards. The whole building was gone. It had burned down. Completely.

Well, of course it did, dumbass. Remember Jasper the human torch?

"What's wrong?" Of course…she's never seen it before.

"This…this isn't what it looked like before," I stuttered lamely. "There were two stories and windows and a porch and…"

"What happened?"

Dammit, I had to tell her now. I'd been avoiding it as long as possible, but…I guess she'd have to find out sooner or later anyway.

"When I first got here…there was this guy named Jasper. I found him sitting on a rock, over that way. He was going on and on about the cult and the mother stone and some nosy guy…he was a real cult nut. I thought he was one of them. He wasn't, but he wanted to be. He told me so. We both managed to get inside this place, and he wandered off and…"

"…and?"

"…the next time I saw him, he was burning to death. Inside the building. He must have lit this whole place up."

We were standing by where the stairs had been, at the front of the house. The stairs were gone, too, but there were a few fallen boards in their place. My eye caught a gleam of white at my feet. There was a little piece of paper there.

Something's here but nothing's here.
I feel something from the well.
Something's missing.
Aaaaaaaahhhh!!!!!
It has begun!!!

And strangely enough, below the written screams and panic, was a neat little signature:

Jasper

"That doesn't make any sense," Eileen said petulantly.

"It probably will later," I muttered, and I shoved it into my pocket. Just like everything else that was hopefully going to make sense later, right?

Just then, her fingers gripped my arm tightly, and I looked up to see what was the matter. She was staring at a dark figure just visible through the smoke, up on the boards. It looked to be sitting in a chair or something…and it had no head. It couldn't be…

"Stay here," I said, and I slowly walked up the fallen boards up onto the foundations of the building. A closer look revealed a wheelchair on the near corner, in which sat a charred wooden torso. Wood, thank God. No head, no limbs, just a trunk…with writing on it.

Though my body be destroyed,
I will not let you pass here.
To prepare for the Receiver of Wisdom…
I cut my body into five pieces and hid them in the darkness.
When my body is once again whole, the path to below will be opened.
If you are the Receiver of Wisdom, you will understand my words.

The ritual has begun…

Very, very creepy.

Eileen was beside me now. That's one thing I could never do…keep her from investigating things. She peered at the note as well.

"Is…is that…him?"

"No, it's too big to be Jasper. He was a skinny guy…this is bigger. And it's wooden, anyway. What I don't get is this 'Receiver of Wisdom' stuff…it sounds familiar…"

I pulled my scrapbook from my pocket, and flipped through the sheaf of papers stuffed into the back until I got to the torn-out page I'd found here hours before.

…From the Darkness and Void, bring forth Gloom,
and gird thyself with Despair for the Giver of Wisdom.

A Giver, not a Receiver. So, not quite the same. Still, it seemed as if they might be two halves of a whole somehow. A giver and a receiver…you can't have one without the other, right?

There was something squirming in the pit of my stomach. Something was trying to work its way into my consciousness, and I had the feeling that it was something I wasn't going to like. Not at all. I had no choice…if I could start making sense out of all of this, maybe we could figure out a way out of this hell that would somehow keep us from getting killed.

But whatever my brain was trying to tell me, it wasn't coming any time soon.

Five pieces, hidden in the darkness.

That made sense. The torso was missing two arms, two legs, and a head. So, this time it looked as though we had a nice little puzzle. Find five wooden body parts and pop 'em back onto the huge wooden dummy. Like some twisted kids' toy. Hurrah. Map time.

I sat down on the edge of the burned wood, and helped Eileen down next to me. The map I'd drawn before was hopefully still correct. The subway hadn't changed much from the first time through, so with a little luck this place was still the same too. The torch had burned out a while back, and we squinted at the pages together in the dim light.

"We're looking for five places to hide a piece of wood, right?" Eileen piped up hopefully. "Sounds like a dirty joke or something." It made me smile, just a little. She was still trying to perk me up after all this time. She was unstoppable. I loved that about her.

Watch it, Henry. Don't say things that…don't.

"Yeah. Five dark places…that's it!" I jabbed my finger at each of the five circles drawn on the map. "Five wells. They're dark and deep…that must be what Jasper was talking about. He said something about 'feeling something from the well…' that's gotta be where they are."

"So…here, here, here, here, and…uh, Henry…"

"Yeah. Gotta go back to that well we just passed. That must have been what you saw in it. Well, shit. Oh. Sorry."

"No problem."

I looked at the map again. The circles were all spread out on the four paths that stretched outwards from the walls of Wish House. Two on the long northeast path, and one on each of the others. And who knows what else in the way…

"Eileen, can you stay here for a few minutes?"

"How come?"

"I'm…I'm going to go get them."

She stared at me as if I was insane. Hell, maybe I was. "You're WHAT?"

"Look," I said, closing the map. "I know this place better than you do, and I can get in and out more quickly. It's pretty safe right here, it seems…Walter hasn't shown up, and nothing else can get in through the gates."

"What about ghosts?"

"Uh…" I spotted a lone candle sitting on the foundation just behind her shoulder. I reached behind her and grabbed it, then handed it to her. "Here. I'll grab my lighter through the Hole over there. This will keep the ghosts away for a little while…if any show up, just light the candle and stay close to it. They can't get to you if you're near the candle."

She looked doubtful. I took her hand and squeezed it.

"Remember that whole trusting-me-with-your-life thing?"

She nodded.

"Yeah, but…but you come back quickly, OK?"

"OK. Back in a minute."

"OK."

All seemed quiet on the home front…at least, until I closed the chest lid and heard a weird little noise from somewhere. It was too faint to discern, so I stood still and listened again. Nothing. But then, just as I was about to open the laundry room door, I heard a faint

mrowr

..it almost sounded like a cat. It was coming from somewhere inside…

rrowl

From the kitchen. From the left side by the door…from the…fridge? Must be inside…

What the HELL is that?

Yep. Add that to the clock and the windows and the screaming babies. Now I also had one undead skinned cat, lying in a bloody mess on top of my crisper drawer, mewling mournfully as if it wanted to be let out to run around and catch little skinned undead mice or something.

Sorry, little guy. Never had any rodent problem here, undead or otherwise.

I slammed the door shut and made a mental note to hit up Frank for a new fridge when this was all done.

The note under the door confirmed what I'd started to suspect a while back. Joseph knew that there was something fishy about "Walter Sullivan"'s death ten years ago…that is, he hadn't died. Completely, anyway. Well, when you see the guy running around with your own eyes, trying to kill you at every turn, that's really the only possible conclusion, right? But what worried me was the end of the note.

7 years ago he did something in that apartment.
I'm certain there's a link between that and the bizarre things that have been happening here.
Just a little bit more and I'll have this whole thing sorted out.
I may even find that the real Walter is somewhere nearby…

July 18

…did something. That wasn't something I wanted to think about. Not at all. Crazy cult-freak serial killer who fakes his own death and then shows up at my place to do…what? Some horrible ritual? Some lying-low until the buzz died down? Who knew…

The curling in the pit of my stomach was just a little larger now. I slipped my old lighter into my pocket and headed for the Hole.

As I closed the door to the laundry room, the torch hanging off of my belt bumped into the door and got tangled in the rungs of the ladder just inside. I turned to pull it free, and my eye caught the small blue plastic oil can that I kept in there for reasons I'd long ago forgotten. Suddenly, I knew it was important, but my tired brain took a moment to realize why.

Oil burns. Torch burns. Torch doesn't burn for very long. That could be a problem. But, torch and oil…

I unscrewed the cap and shoved the torch into the half-empty can and wiggled it around for several seconds before pulling it out and closing the can again. It wasn't dripping, but it was good and soaked. That would be a big help.