Chapter 20
He awakes with a start. He knows he was having another nightmare, but unlike the others, his memory rejects it and the images of eyes, blood, and bodies thankfully fade away like objects in the mist.
He feels more alert now, though not completely refreshed. He could not have slept for very long as the light outside seems unchanged. He gets out of the restaurant booth and stretches. His joints are stiff from having been locked in one position for so long, but they quickly loosen. His muscles are sore, but it is the soreness that always follows strenuous exercise and he knows they will perform their functions adequately.
Laura is not in the restaurant and he finds no sign of her having returned, though the finger drawing of the cat on the window remains. I have no way of knowing if she has found her letter or not, but if she has, she did not return to James. He pulls out the map and looks at it again. He decides that, if he is looking for a key in a hotel, the best place to start is with Reception. He puts the map away; he has no difficulty in remembering how to get to the lobby.
Having recovered some of his strength, I feel it is time to test it once again. As he opens the door to the hallway and turns his flashlight back on, he hears the radio hiss and pop. The last mannequin he saw was in the parking lot of the Historical Society and he had killed it almost immediately. Since then it has been nothing but spitters, so he has forgotten how fast they can move on their plastic legs.
The lighting is dim but he can see two. One stands motionless far back from the flashlight, nothing more than a dim silhouette in the hall. The other, however, is charging him, a writhing mass of leg and vein. He swears and tries to duck back into the restaurant. But the mannequin sticks a foot through the door before he can close it. It then kicks the door with one of the upper legs. The kick is strong and James knows he has no hope of closing the door. He quickly backs away from it and grabs a chair with one hand while the other reaches for the gun. The mannequin bashes the door open and races towards him. He throws the chair in front of it and grabs another as he pulls the gun free. The mannequin sidesteps the first chair and continues to rush him. He throws the second chair, but the mannequin swats it aside. Though the action is quick, the slight delay as the mannequin turns its upper legs back towards is enough for James to achieve his goal. He switches the safety off and shoots the mannequin four times. He has seen them go down in three shots, but he is angry at himself for assuming the hotel was safe and he does not want to take the risk of this mannequin reviving while he is dealing with the second one outside.
The mannequin twitches and bleeds on the ground. Then it lays still. The radio does not die out, but the staccato popping sound is fainter. He clicks the flashlight off and goes to the door. He looks out into the hallway. The mannequin has moved from its previous position and the dim light makes it difficult for him to locate it again.
He finally sees the outline of its upper legs a little ways to the left side of the hall. He can see them move slightly, rubbing against each other for reasons he cannot fathom. Perhaps because the flashlight is off, the creature makes no movements towards James, which is just as well for him.
He points the gun down the hall and fires three times. He hears the mannequin shriek twice as its legs fall below into the shadows. He clicks his light on and advances, gun at the ready. The mannequin lies on the floor, trying to get up. Only two of his bullets hit, in the area where the two pairs of legs intersect, but it seems to have crippled the creature. It appears incapable of movement aside from the bending of its knees. As he gets closer, the creature's movements slow and eventually stop. But the radio is not silent.
Indeed, it has not even faded and he whirls around looking for another mannequin. But he sees nothing in either direction. He advances carefully but suddenly trips over the mannequin's leg and lands on his stomach. At first, he curses his own clumsiness, but then suddenly realizes something is wrong. The mannequin's leg had not been in front of him before.
It's still alive. He is about to roll away when he feels the mannequin's leg pin his own. It cannot rise off of the ground, but it is able drag itself on the carpet by bending its knees and pulling with its heels. The mannequin is still strong and he cannot free his leg, preventing him from rolling over and, with the gun in his right hand, getting a clear shot. He puts the gun in his left hand, but the creature has dragged its other legs over to him and one kicks him in the shoulder, making him drop the gun.
The blow to his shoulder hurts, and he suddenly realizes that if the mannequin can reach his shoulder, then it can also reach his head. He reaches for the gun again with his left hand. The mannequin kicks him in the shoulder once more and then knocks the gun away. But, before it can retract its leg, his right arm shoots out and grabs it by the foot. It struggles against him, flailing the leg, but he holds tight. He feels it begin to shift its weight to get more leverage. It kicks again with more force, but he lets go the instant before the leg extends. The leg goes out further than the mannequin intended, pulling its body out of position and loosening its hold on James's leg. He pulls his leg free, rolls to his right and stands up.
He backs away from the mannequin. It drags itself over to the gun, hoping to keep James from regaining it. But he has no need of a firearm now. He pulls the baton from its pouch and extends it. The mannequin seems intent on holding its ground but, given its injuries, it has no defense against the baton. With two quick swings he breaks both its front legs. Another two swings and the creature cries out and lays still. This time, the radio is silent.
He exhales a sigh of relief, retrieves the gun, collapses the baton, and begins to reload the gun. Damn, he thinks as he squeezes bullets into the magazine, can't believe I got out of that one alive. Strangely, he finds himself once again thinking of Eddie's words echoing in mists of the refrigerator room, "You and me are the same, buddy. We're not like other people." You were right Eddie; there is something different about us. He recalls his first encounter with the spitter in the incomplete underpass. He had been terrified by the creature, and yet…I still managed to grab a weapon and kill that thing. Have I…? But, as They all too often do, he shakes his head and ends that line of thinking. He finishes reloading and, though the radio is silent, checks the rest of the hall, leaving the bleeding corpse behind.
There are two doors to the lobby in the hall; each one comes out along side a grand staircase in the lobby that leads to the second floor. He selects the one to the left of the stairway, reasoning that if there are any monsters in the lobby or in Reception they will only be able to come at him from one side.
He pushes open the mahogany doors and steps in carefully. The radio is silent, and he moves into the lobby. When he first entered the hotel, his mind had been too occupied to notice the smell of the place, but now he takes the time to inhale the aroma. He would describe it as pine, though it is not as sharp as a real pine would smell. The lobby carpeting is the same Indian design as the hallway though the pattern is on a much larger scale in order to match the size of the room. Large couches and cushioned chairs line the walls for guests to sit at while waiting for the porters or even just to lounge while enjoying the centerpiece of the lobby, which stands just in front of the grand staircase.
It is a large antique clock, though it is not used to keep time anymore. Attached to the front of the clock is a music box with a table of figurines that rotate and move when the box plays. The concierge would turn it on from time to time and the guests could sit in the lobby, relax and enjoy the music and watch the figurines move. James cannot remember specifics about the music, except that, being an antique music box, the music was generated by a series of chimes that could not perform anything complex, though he does recall that there was a kind of beauty in its simplicity. Mary liked to come down here sometimes and watch the figurines move in their mechanically primitive dance.
He shakes his head. He is not here to reminisce. He moves past the music box, noting in passing that some of the figurines are missing. The reception desk is located on the other side of the room. It consists of a large window in the wall with gold-painted trim. The desk itself has been painted a very dark shade of burgundy. On the wall behind the desk is an array of cubbyholes, each marked with a room number. Unsurprisingly, the desk is unmanned and the summons bell is broken. He moves through the wooden "Employees Only" door to the right of the desk. There is another door to the supervisor's office in front of him and the other side of the reception desk is on his left.
The lower part of the desk contains a phone, several pens, a piece of paper with the hotel's letterhead and nothing else. He searches the drawers and cabinet below the desk for any master key, but finds nothing. He is about to turn to search the cubby holes when he sees there is writing on the paper:
Mr, Sunderland
The videotape you accidentally left with us is being kept in the office
on the first floor. We were glad to be of assistance and hope to see
you again.
"Hmm." He says aloud, I forgot about the tape…first things first though. He starts searching the cubbyholes. He finds nothing in them until he gets to 312. He finds no key, but there is wooden figurine.
It is a mermaid with her tail curled up. Her blond hair flows over her shoulders, a small gold circlet sits on her head and her hands are pressed together in prayer. The artist paid exquisite detail to the paint and carving; every silvery blue scale on her tail sparkles in the flashlight and the texture of her hair feels as though the artist whittled each strand individually. The shape of her eyebrows and the blue coloring of her irises give her face a sweet, but slightly melancholy expression.
He picks up the figurine and walks back over to the music box. There are three empty, circular grooves on the table, each with a small round hole in its center. He pushes a button on the side of the clock to make it play. The table rotates and he hears chimes being struck, but it seems as though they are being played out of order and what results is more noise rather than music. He frowns and looks down at each of the grooves and then he notices engravings next to each of them. The first one on the left reads "Beauty, both a blessing and a curse thou be." The center groove reads "'Twas shameful greed did stain her shoe with blood." And the one on the right finishes, "Even so, I still want to believe she was happy." He looks at the bottom of his mermaid figurine and sees a little round peg. He lines it up with the hole on the leftmost groove and pushes it down. It fits perfectly. He is about to play the music box again when he notices more writing engraved on the table. What catches his attention, however, is the fact that the writing is in Mary's cursive:
Darling, hurry and put this puzzle straight,
So you can come to the place where I wait.
For another princess, there's a small twist,
Hidden away in a suitcase of mist.
I cannot say much more,
But try the second floor…
Tempered excitement comes to him. This is the kind of puzzle Mary would make for him. Fairytale figures, a little rhyme indicating the location of the next clue, and a final riddle to put together once he has all the pieces. Classic Mary.
He takes out the map. He has several options. He could follow the poem and go to the second floor. But once there, he is not certain where to find the "suitcase of mist." There is also the office on the first floor that holds the videotape. He frowns. His map of the hotel is intended for guests and several sections of the hotel are noted as being "Employees Only" and nothing more. He cannot tell if the memo at reception referred to the supervisor's office, which he has yet to check, or another office. He decides that if the tape is not in the reception supervisor's office he will go to the second floor. The hotel is not safe and it would be better to leave the tape until later. Besides, he smiles to himself, maybe the tape's part of the next clue. I wouldn't want to spoil Mary's puzzle by getting ahead of her.
The supervisor's office reveals quite literally nothing. It appears to have been cleared out sometime ago and only a desk, file cabinet, chair, and empty wastepaper basket remain. He exits back to the lobby and goes back over to the music box.
He spends several minutes there committing the poem to memory before he leaves.
He walks up the grand staircase to the second floor. At first he is unsure of where to go; the map gives him two immediate possibilities. Visitors would sometimes leave suitcases in the cloak room and he could try there. However, most baggage in the hotel would be kept by the guests in their rooms, and to get into the rooms he will need keys. The front desk did not have any room keys, but he reasons either the housekeeping or maintenance staff would have keys to the rooms. He heads to his left; there is a maintenance room next to the guest elevator and he decides it would be better to get the keys now.
He passes through a set of doors. The hallway is decorated the same as the first floor, though the paintings seem to be spaced out more evenly. There is a guest elevator just to his left and a small table with a decorative bouquet of flowers. The smell of lilac touches his nostrils and he realizes the bouquet is real. It stops him for a moment. The hotel, like the rest of the town, appears abandoned, but there is nonetheless a set of fresh flowers sitting on the table. He scratches his head; again pieces are coming to him and his rational mind files them away, waiting for an opportune time to put them together.
He moves past the guest elevator and puts his hand on the knob on the "Employees only" door. He turns it, but is greeted by the dull click of a lock. "Damn." He mutters. Looks like it's the cloak room after all.
He goes back through the set of doors and past the grand staircase. He goes through another set of doors. Directly to his right is the stairwell. There is another set of doors down the short hallway in front of him. There is also a branching hallway on his left which has doors to a reading room, a lounge, and the cloak room. He takes the left hall and the cloak room is the first door. The carpeting inside is just plain burgundy and the walls are a dark brown with lighter-colored stripes. Two-thirds of the room is behind a mahogany desk. The walls beyond the desk are lined with coat racks, though they all appear to be empty at the moment. He climbs over the desk and finds the lower part of the walls contain shelves with a few suitcases.
His hopes rise but begin to fall as he opens each suitcase only to find it empty. When he has gone through them all, he tosses the last one in disgust. The suitcase he is looking for is not here. He could try the reading room and the lounge, but if he comes up dry there, he will only have the rooms left and he has no keys. It occurs to him though, that he could break into the rooms using the baton or the gun. But using the baton would take time and energy; he remembers most of the rooms having a dead bolt in addition to the door lock. As for the gun, with twenty rooms on the floor and needing an absolute minimum of two bullets for each door, that is far too many bullets for him to spare.
Before he completely resigns himself however, he sees a glint in a cardboard box marked "Lost and Found" that sits below the desk. He pulls it out. The box is empty except for a small key on a ring with a plastic chip marked with the number 204. Maybe I won't have to break into all of the rooms, he smiles to himself as he pockets the key.
No longer believing there is such a thing as coincidence in Silent Hill, he ignores the reading room and lounge and instead finds Room 204 on the map. It is located in the west wing of the hotel, the same as the cloak room. He goes back into the short hall with the stairwell and takes the doors on his left.
He is greeted with both a pleasant painting of one of the hotel's flower gardens on the wall in front of him and an unpleasant hiss of the radio in his pocket. He draws the gun while silently cursing himself for not having done so before going through the doors. Fortunately, for him, the first mannequin does not notice him until after he has it drawn and it goes down quickly. The second mannequin is more cautious, not wanting to alert James to the presence of the third.
He advances slowly, holding the gun out, listening for the sound of footsteps on the carpet. The mannequin moves silently, though not undetected. The vibrations are faint, but James senses are heightened from the rush of fresh adrenaline and he can feel them despite the soft carpeting and his thick soles. Perhaps sensing it has been detected, the mannequin increases its pace. He holds the gun out, waiting for the creature to appear into the light. But the mannequin surprises him. Instead of charging straight towards him as he expected, it runs past him down the hall, veins flashing in the light, and is out of sight before he can re-aim the gun. What the hell? He turns and points the gun down the hall. It is then that the third mannequin begins to slowly move towards him in the darkness.
James, oblivious, focuses his attention down the corridor where the second mannequin disappeared. The second mannequin waits at the end of the hall until some unspoken signal passes between the two monsters and it charges down the hall, back towards James, this time trying to make as much noise as possible. The third mannequin also begins to charge, the sound of its footsteps masked by the other mannequin. Had he never detected the third mannequin, this strategy would have defeated him; while he aimed for the second, the third would have surprised him from behind and beaten that rational brain of his into an irrational, bloody pulp. Unfortunately for the mannequins, as the third one draws near, James feels the vibrations coming from both directions and he quickly realizes he has been surrounded.
Though he has spotted their trap, James still has precious few seconds before the mannequins overwhelm him anyway. Despite the more immediate threat being the mannequin behind him, James blindly fires twice down the hall in the hopes that he might get lucky with the second mannequin. He steps to the side as the third mannequin swipes at him from behind. He turns and brings the gun up, but is forced to move before he can fire as the mannequin swings at him again. He had managed to survive a similar situation with the nurses in the Historical Society's parking lot, but he had more room to move and he was facing slower opponents. He takes a step back and fires the gun, hitting the mannequin in the midsection. But there is a cost as he feels the carpet move behind him as the second mannequin is upon him. He ducks the kick aimed at the back of his head, but another catches him between the shoulder blades, knocking him forward. He manages to stay on his feet, until the mannequin uses one of its lower legs to kick him in his right hamstring.
He falls to the ground. He keeps the barrel of the gun pointed away from him, but he does not get his finger off of the trigger before landing and the gun discharges. The bullet hits the floor not far from him. Though the third mannequin was not hit, it takes a step back, not realizing the blast was unintended. James rolls to his left and tries to come up into a crouch, but his hamstring is numb and the best he can manage is a half sit-up. He points the gun at the second mannequin, which has followed him in his roll, and shoots it twice; once in the midsection and once in its knee. The bullets do not kill the mannequin, but it is crippled and cannot stand.
The fight seems to slow down as all three combatants are wounded. The third mannequin is still on its feet, though the one bullet in its midsection has slowed it down some and it now must carry most of its weight on its left leg. It shifts around to face him. He tries to crabwalk backwards, but his hamstring refuses to move and he is only able to drag himself a little ways before the mannequin is on him. It tries to stomp him with its right leg, but he drops the gun and grabs its foot before it can bring it down. The mannequin seems to have difficulty rotating its hips and can only use the strength in its one leg to shake him off. He grips it tightly for a few seconds as it struggles against him. Then, using his body as an anchor, he pulls down hard on the leg, pinning it to the floor. Were the mannequin not injured, a simple shift its weight onto the right leg would allow it to bring the left around to kick him in the face. But its damaged hips cannot support the shift in weight; the sound of tearing plastic erupts from the hip and black blood begins to ooze out as the mannequin topples to the side.
He picks the gun up and slides up to the wall. Using the wall as a brace, he sits up enough to fire his last two bullets, one in each mannequin. They both drop flat on the floor, but neither one immediately dies. Instead, they lie there bleeding, and screeching. The second mannequin tries to drag itself over to James, but its movements become more and more feeble until it gives up altogether. He breathes a sigh of relief. Though the creatures still struggle and flail their limbs, he can see the pools of blood are growing bigger and he knows that he will be the only one who will ever walk out of this hall.
It is another minute before the mannequins stop moving and the radio becomes silent. By then, some feeling has returned to his hamstring and he gingerly stands up. He had been worried that the mannequin might have permanently damaged it, but as he gets to his feet and more blood begins to flow through the leg, he feels its strength returning, though there will be an ugly bruise. He changes the clip and reloads the empty one.
He looks at the mannequins bodies before moving on and anger wells up in him. The hotel was a quiet, peaceful place. But the presence of these creatures has sullied it. He thinks of the friendly hotel staff that, despite having left long ago, would be forced to carry this body away and clean the blood from the carpet. And maybe more. Perhaps the blood stains the carpet run too deep to clean. Maybe the hotel will have to rip the carpeting out of the entire floor and replace it at great expense. Maybe rumors will spread about why the carpeting is being replaced and some over-vigilant citizen makes a call to the health inspector or perhaps the sheriff. Maybe that will lead to a criminal investigation that effectively shuts down the hotel for a season. But most of all, the last memories he has of Mary before her illness were all associated with this hotel. But now, when he thinks of the hotel, he will not remember smelling pine in the halls, watching the dancing figurines in the lobby, walking in the gardens, eating in the restaurant while looking out at the lake, or spending the nights alone in their room. Instead, his last memories will include the smell of spent cartridges, the hiss of the radio, and the sight of mannequins crumpled on the ground with their black blood seeping into the burgundy carpet. He takes a deep breath, exhales and lets his anger subside.
Room 204 is nearly at the end of the hall and the number is dimly illuminated from the window at the end of the hall, though the heavy, dark red curtains drawn across it let in very little of the meager light outside. He pulls the key out and unlocks the door.
This section of the second floor consists of the economy priced rooms, which are much smaller than the third floor rooms where James is used to staying. There is a dresser, a queen sized bed and a small bathroom. The curtains across the windows here are much thinner, lighting the room a little better, though he keeps the flashlight on. Several open suitcases are strewn about the floor and black and white photographs of the town have been scattered across the bed, but otherwise, there is no sign that the room has been occupied. The duvet on the bed is undisturbed and the towels in the bathroom are unused. Amongst the photographs on the bed is a small, metal suitcase with an internal combination lock.
He picks it up tentatively. It is somewhat heavy though very little of the weight comes from its contents. Something rattles inside as he moves it. Is this the "suitcase of mist"? He wonders. He scratches his head, stymied on how to open it. Breaking it does not seem feasible; the metal is strong and can probably withstand a gun blast; that also rules out the baton and any other physical means; the amount of force required to smash it open would likely destroy its contents. He does not have a combination of any kind. He was able to open the box behind the statue in Rosewater Park by unscrewing the hinges and he turns the suitcase around to have a look. Alas, the designer of this suitcase has thought of such measures because the hinges are welded onto the main body. He considers other options.
The combination is only four digits and, given the circumstances, probably set by Mary, meaning it might have some significance; he can probably find it by trial and error. But as he takes a closer look at the combination dials, he suddenly realizes that instead of numbers, they contain letters. Okay, it's a word, not a number. He tries to think of a word Mary might use. He tries her name first. Nothing. Next he tries "love". Nothing again. I shouldn't guess randomly, Mary always leaves a clue. He goes back over the poem in his mind. The first two lines were clearly referring to finding the figurines. Then the line about the princess refers to the next figurine. It says there's a "twist". Does it just mean that…wait, wait, wait…"suitcase of mist". He looks over the suitcase, but finds nothing that indicates it has anything to do with mist. Still, she wouldn't use the word mist just to keep the rhyme, there's—oh, of course…He smiles ruefully to himself…"mist" has four letters. He turns the dial and spells the word. There is a click and the suitcase opens. He smiles, clever Honey, very clever.
Inside is a key wrapped in white paper and another wooden figurine. This figurine is of an auburn haired woman wearing a magnificent billowing, white gown which she holds in a graceful curtsy. She has one foot daintily extended to reveal a translucent shoe that sparkles in the glow of the flashlight. He pockets the figurine and looks at the key, which is marked "2nd MAINTENANCE". He puts the key away and looks at the paper. On it, another poem is written:
Oh darling, you must be strong,
We'll not be apart for long.
Don't stop now to think,
Or pause for one drink.
The music shall open the way to the place where we once did sleep
Find the last damsel in the place where a goddess doth weep.
He frowns. The fifth line obviously means Room 312, but the sixth…he is unsure. He tries to remember if there are any statues or portraits in the building or the gardens that depict someone crying. He draws blank. The final couplet can't be the only clue, he thinks, the opening, well…I don't see anything. But…"think" and "drink"...He stops and checks the map. The hotel contains a café, a restaurant, and a bar. He remembers the bar well, he and Mary shared many drinks there, but, more important to him now, is the name of the bar: Venus Tears…"where a goddess doth weep".
He folds the paper and tucks it in his pants pocket.
I can feel his denial begin to waver. He has started to trust Laura's letter rather than his own memory, though he has yet to consciously admit it. That is not a good sign. Soon, he will no longer be able to ignore his rational mind and he will find the answers; the only question is when will he find them? Fortunately, that is a question I do know the answer to.
He will find them when I am ready.