Chapter 21: 'THERE IS A SECRET'
Lo
There is a secret.
as dark, and deep as the sacred lake
Which lies in the seat of the valley
Ancient glamour's lieth under its depth
The seat of the gods.
The darkness that grows
Be harvested, and fed upon
Like the blood of the sacrifices, it demands.
In a garden it shall be tended
It shall yield its fruit in a season.
Sing forth the ritual, call upon its promises
The power of life and death shall be yours
Now speak your desire
For I am the Crimson One.
The lies and the mist are
not they, but I.
You all know that I am One.
Yes, and the One is I.
Believers hearken to me!
Twenty score
Men and seven thousand beasts
Heed my words and speaketh them
To all, that they shall ever be
Obeyed even under the light of
The proud and merciless sun.
I shall bring down a bitter vengeance
Upon thee and thou shalt suffer
My eternal wrath.
And you shall be made pure.
The beauty of the withering flower
And the last struggles of the dying
Man, they are my blessings.
Thou shalt ever call upon me and
All that is in me,
in the place that is
silent.
Oh, proud fragrance of life
Which flies towards the heart.
Oh Cup which brims
with the whitest of wine
it is in thee, that all begin.
Opening Stanzas from… -The Ritual of the Scarlet Birth-
Behold
In here is a tragedy
That took place
For no audience
be that as it may the end is near
all go on and lead toward death
the first words at thy left hand
are false lunacy that now go dancing madly round
hearing unhearable words drawn to a beloved's grave
there they happen;
true venomous worms, as did this one, playing the devil
find true contentment at last.
Killing an unnamable number
She pierced a heart rent by sorrow.
Both lies and truth.
Doth verity beware a mask of falsehood?
Oh how pitiful, the reasonable ones
Still in its lies she slew the weak and the pitiful in mercy…
but the end cometh not
Wherefore yearn the death, therefore attend to the beloved.
Truth and lies, life and death.
A game of turning white into black and black into white.
Excerpt from… 'Book of All'.
James fumbled with the pages of the old leather bound book, a strange and macabre writing, found in an odd section of the small makeshift hotel library. LOCAL FOLKLORE
The passage entitled 'The Ritual of the Scarlet Birth' rung particularly familiar in his mind. This worn tome titled the "Book of All" was filled with odd prayers, philosophies, poetry, and occult references dating from early colonial America. It seemed almost pointless, as if written by lunatics with a depth of intensity and insight only understandable by other lunatics. From just a quick flip through, the names Lillith, Lobsel Vith, Uriel, Valtiel, and Xuchilbara were all mentioned within it's pages. God's and Angels, it called them; the servants of God.
The book hinted at ideas and concepts not overtly discussed or addressed within the work itself. Furthermore, the chapters seemed loosely connected; it was if the words in the book only hinted at greater and deeper meanings. James flipped threw a few more pages.
Other works also caught had caught his attention too. 'A History of Toluca Tragedies.' In it were discussed a series of the most famous disappearances and odd happenings in the near 200 year history of the Valley. Among interesting entries, catching James' attention was a recited oral tradition dating back to the first European settlers of Silent Hill.
The town's name comes from the legend of the people whose land was stolen from them. They called this area "The Place of the Silent Spirits." By "Spirits," they meant not only their dead relatives, but also the spirits that they believed inhabited the trees, rocks and water around them.
According to legend, this was where the holiest ceremonies took place. But it was not the ancestors of those who now live in this town that first stole the land from these people. There were others who came before.
In those days, this town went by another name. But that name is now hopelessly lost in the veils of times. All we know is that there was another name, and that for some reason the town was once abandoned by its residents.
Other tragedies were likewise detailed in its pages; odd stories of a fisherman in 1955, diving to unhook his son's line in the shallows of the lake, possibly a flooded area of the Toluca Lake Prison Cemetery, never coming back up, and his remains never being found. Others apparently and meticulously detailed, but deliberately torn out, continued to make up over two thirds of the work.
Legend of the Lake
Toluca Lake, the town's main Tourist attraction. This clear, beautiful lake has another side as well.
It may seem like just a typical ghost story that you might find in any number of old towns across the country. But in this case, the legend is true. On a fog-bound November day in 1918, the Little Baroness, a ferry filled with tourists, failed to make port.
A newspaper article from back then simply says "It most likely sunk for some reason". Despite an extensive police search, not a single fragment of the ship or any of the 14 bodies of passengers or crew has ever been recovered to this day.
In 1939, an even stranger incident occurred…"
James flipped through the immense amount of torn out pages.
"Many corpses rest at the bottom of this lake. Their bony hands reach up towards the boats that pass overhead. Perhaps they reach for the companionship and warmth they lost to the lake."
There was so much, so many clues, so much information here; a plethora of knowledge. In his mind, he knew it, James knew this Hotel was an important place; he was wise for coming here. The riddle, the puzzle of this demented land was solving itself before his eyes. His mind was teasing him with a sense of enlightenment, something just on the fringes of his knowledge and understanding. Indeed something did exist, just out of his reach. Just a bit longer, a little bit further, and the truth would eventually be his.
'His', just like Ernest had prophesied…
Flipping through several more pages his fingers came to rest on one more point on interest in the large Book of ALL, the most interesting of tomes. This particular passage was titled "The Beginning".
THE BEGINNING
In the beginning people had nothing
There bodies ached and there hearts held nothing but hatred
They fought endlessly but death never came
They despaired stuck in the eternal quagmire
A man offered a serpent to the sun and prayed for salvation
A woman offered a reed to the sun and asked for joy
Feeling pity for the sadness that had overrun the earth
'God' was born from those two people
'God' made time and divided it into day and night
'God' outlined the road to salvation and gave people joy
and 'God' took endless time away from the people
'God' created beings to lead people in obedience to Her
the 'red god' Xuchilbarra, the 'yellow god' Lobsel Vith
many 'gods' and angels, finally 'God' set out to create 'Paradise'
where people would be happy just by being there
but there 'God's' strength ran out and She collapsed
all the worlds' people grieved this unfortunate event
yet 'God' breathed Her last,
She returned to the dust, promising to come again
so 'God' has not been lost,
we must offer our prayers, and not forget our faith
we, Her Church, hope and pray for the day
when the path to paradise will finally be open….
AMEN
"The truth can liberate you, set you free. But it can also consume you like an eternal fire…" James recited to himself. He would have to be careful, he sensed it now. The danger, the smell of damage that wafted over him, he was playing with fire now. Whatever he strove to understand would be potentially devastating, and destructive.
"These are mysteries and secrets not meant for common men to understand. I wouldn't have paid any attention to this nonsense on any other day, but now… This 'red god' could he be…?"
"Laura…" James thought interrupting himself. "Where did you run off to this time? There is so much I need to ask you." In his hand, he held it, the tape, the dusty, VHS cassette. The one he and Mary had recorded many private moments during their honeymoon, their tour of the parks, the lakes; their moonlight carriage ride through the streets.
"How could it still be here? This tape, the odds?" James paused as he stood up leaving the small library room." He was close very close, close to that room. The room he and Mary had occupied. Room 312 it was only two floors above them. James had procrastinated, delayed going there. How he longed to see her again, but now, there were so many questions so many doubts. He was afraid… but why?
He had not seen a single demonic form in this place. For its worth it had seemed remarkably unremarkable thus far. No static, no demons, no crazy hallucinations, nothing except him and Laura. Nevertheless, Laura had vanished again, her damned small and quick feet, left him far behind once more. He had considered waiting for her to return, down in the restaurant. However, the burning desire to find the truth, made him impractically impatient.
"Laura has come this far by herself. Nothing in this place seems dangerous… I just can't sit and wait all day for her…" James rationalized. He had searched so hard, come so far. He could not let a slight set back, stall him anymore.
Spending the last two hours scouring the floors of this abandoned, well-conditioned establishment, James had retraced his memories. Like old film replaying in his mind, he traced every step, every room, every meal every one, except for that one -the only one that mattered; their room, their 'special place'. He had avoided it, almost being strong enough to enter it. But he didn't, something wasn't right. He wasn't as prepared as he thought he was.
James stood up abruptly. He had wasted enough time.
"I have to do this. I need to get this over with. Mary… I'm coming."
CHAPTER END