Chapter 26: Truth

Light.

Upon opening the door, the first thing I noticed was that it was bright inside. The second thing I noticed was a living room to the left, and a hallway that led to a kitchen – along the hallway was a closet, as well as one beside the front door and another one further down in the hallway – there was a door on the right, just before the hallway. At the end, I saw the rail for a set of stairs leading up. My breath got caught in my throat, and I coughed.

Because . . .

'This is my house,' I said stupidly, because Emily had been inside my house. 'Well, it's the same format, but . . .' Upon examining it, I saw that there was a table in the living room against the wall, with a chair and writing equipment. Instead of my computer, there was a shelf with a vase on it; my TV and radio were gone, the TV replaced by a different kind, an old Magnavox with a Super Nintendo on the floor – the radio was a victrola – my couch was replaced by a stiff love-seat. And lastly, the curtains were jet black instead of a deep crimson, which was my favourite colour.

'. . . all my stuff is . . . gone.' Upon reexamination, the curtains were only black and white because everything else was black and white. It was like some old 50s movie. In some places, there was a Holy Candle, and on the table there was a Saint Medallion. I stuffed it in my pocket.

'Why is your house . . . here?'

'Well . . .' I tried to think of an explanation. 'I guess I . . . don't know.'

I took a step forward, holding Emily's hand for my benefit more so than hers. I let go and tried the door to my basement – sealed. I opened the closet where the first hole had appeared, the one that stayed in the house — nothing. The laundry room didn't open either. The closet with the other kind of 'hole' was open, and the hole was there. Part of me was tempted to go through, to see what would happen. Instead, I returned to the living room.

First of all, I checked the desk – there were many blank notepads, but a few had writing on them. Instantly I remembered that Thomas lived here before him.

I'm in Thomas's house. That . . . that's not even possible. I went back in time? No, that's stupid. Then again, everything else doesn't make much sense.

I picked one note up and ushered Emily here. She sat on the love-seat as I read the first one.

'Ralph Derecks was born in Silent Hill to unknown parents; it is presumed that the mother died during birth, and the father killed himself, because the night after Ralph was found, a Mr. John Lemeler was found in his residence in Blue Creek Apartments, having killed himself with a .38 Special. This may be unrelated, but I speculate otherwise, because Mr. Lemeler had been dating a one Elizabeth Merol, who was found dead in on the floor of their residence on Bachman Rd, with an aneurysm. Derecks was discovered by a member of "The Order" named Albert Derecks – thus the name was spawned, though his true name should be Ralph Lemeler or Ralph Merol.

'Albert Derecks took him to the Order, showing that the boy had 'God in him'. Ralph grew up with the warped Cult beliefs, and befriended a boy named Walter Sullivan. Sullivan and Derecks were both very quiet and introverted – but their paths took very different turns. Sullivan remained at the 'Wish House', a twisted orphanage that taught the Cult's beliefs; Derecks, however, was excessively violent and apathetic. I honestly believe that Ralph was born without the ability to feel empathy and sympathy, pity and remorse. Thus, I pity him a little.

'Derecks was so violent and spiteful that he was sent to a Water Prison, a truly horrible place. There, he observed a guard named Andrew DeSalvo giving Walter Sullivan water with leeches in it. This fueled an undying hatred for the Cult (formed by his brotherly love for Sullivan). He staged a breakout, ripping a steel pipe from a broken water line and killing a guard, then taking the guard's pistol and breaking the other kids out. The event ended in every guard of the prison being killed, except Andrew DeSalvo, who was on leave.

'Derecks was only six.'

'SIX!!?' Emily cried, visibly shaken.

'This psycho's been killing since he was six . . .' I said, absorbing it all in. 'This can't be a human being. No human being can . . . God . . .'

I had to read once more. I picked up another note.

'The guards of that prison are what I believe spawned those red demons that carry weapons. But I digress.

'Derecks was sent to a foster home (the parent asked no questions), to a Mr. Mick Valter, who lived in Ashfield, in the Reynolds-Ambol building working as a janitor. Derecks and Valter did not feud, as expected. They spoke little and seldom. Valter moved to Silent Hill and enrolled Derecks in Midwich Elementary, where he was also excessively violent. It was during this time that Derecks snuck out and attempted to run away – only to find Sullivan on the train to Ashfield, now both ten years old. Walter told Derecks about what he saught to do: waken his 'Mother'. Sullivan never told Derecks that he thought his mother was Room 302 of South Ashfield Heights, an apartment building in South Ashfield.

'What proceeded were the cases that were, in truth, Sullivan's attempts at "The 21 Sacraments".

'Derecks assumed Walter meant "The Holy Mother" mentioned in the Cult's Bible, which would rid the world of evil and usher in paradise. He made an oath to Sullivan that, if Sullivan failed somehow, Ralph would try himself. The two parted, and never saw each other in life once more.

'So Derecks's life returned to "normal", until he met –'

My eyes widened, and my heart stopped. '–Emily Callel, student at Midwich. Ralph thought that he'd fallen in love, and since then, planned to make Emily the Mother Reborn.'

Emily said nothing – she just bowed her head, hand against her forehead, eyes closed. Swallowing, I continued.

'It was when he was thirteen that Ralph discovered that he was . . .' I was honestly thunderstruck by this sentence. Not that anything was wrong with it, but I never deemed Ralph . . .

'What?' Emily asked, looking up, her eyes red from silent weeping.

'. . . Ralph discovered that he was a homosexual. Unfortunately, everyone else discovered it too, and in a largely homophobic school, it was more than frowned upon. Derecks was jumped in the bathroom of the school, and yet he overpowered the attackers, breaking one's nose, crushing another's testicles, gouging two's eyes out and fracturing one's wrist. He left one with the cold message: "Noone can stop me now."

'Due to this, he spent time in juvenile detention – when released, he dropped out of school and ran away, working in the Central Ashfield Clock Tower. He lived in an abandoned construction site for the duration of his childhood.

'Sullivan was thwarted in his attempt of "The 21 Sacraments" by Henry Townshend and Eileen Galvin. Grieving for his friend, Derecks began "The 21 Blessings", which differ from the Sacraments only in the fact that the names of its victims. Thus, you are reading this note.'

'Wow,' I said. 'This guy led one screwed up life. The world wasn't tender on him.'

'I . . . poor Ralph . . .' Emily said, seemingly surprised. 'After all he's done, I still feel . . . sorry for him.'

Even I felt pangs of guilt for the man, raised in one screwed up environment with the most screwed up people. He never had a chance at a normal life, he went down the only road truly presented to him: violence and hatred for the world that left him for dead.

There were still a few more notes.

'I refuse to leave this house. I refuse, I won't, it's taking a toll on my sanity. The hole is sealed up by my own efforts, and I've placed Holy Candles around the house to ward off the evil while I spill all the knowledge I have of these events upon paper . . . I just heard a clunk downstairs. '

'The candles are running low, and I'm resorting to my Medallions, but even so, I can't last forever in here. I'm out of food, out of defence, out of hope – I tried to get out again, but once more, my labours were fruitless.'

'The candles are gone. My hope is too – the monsters have overrun the top floor, and only the kitchen and the living room remain clean; but even so, it won't last forever.'

'For God's sake . . .'

'Help me . . .'

There were no more notes with writing upon them. I joined Emily on the couch, and she seemed scared. As soon as I sat down, she put her head on my shoulder and fell asleep. I almost followed, but . . .

Rise.

A voice echoed through the house – or maybe through my head, I never figured it out. I gently laid Emily on the couch, and stood, gripping the axe tightly. Stepping down the hallway, I looked up the stairs, feeling myself drawn to it. Part of me was utterly terrified to climb the stairs, and part of me was dreadfully curious. So I ascended.

To my right was my bathroom – to my left was my closet – and before me was my bedroom. Stepping in my bathroom, I looked in the mirror at my reflection. My face was stained with blood, with the skin under my eyes wrinkled and sagging, dark with no sleep and stress. The gash across my chest was still stinging me – the spear wound in my shoulder wasn't deep, but it looked ugly. I was bruised, tired and stressed.

Sighing, I looked into the sink, resting a moment before I entered the bedroom. The bed was different, made neatly, and there weren't clothes strewn about the dresser. The window curtains were neat, unlike mine, which were wrinkled, and the whole room showed an air of cleanliness. I sat on the bed, hands on my knees, just reflecting on the day. I was about to fall back and sleep when I saw movement in the corner of my eye.

Instantly my body jolted forward, and holding the axe, I pressed my body close to the dresser, swallowing and shaking unwillingly. Slowly stepping sideways, I leapt into the hallway, axe raised, to find nothing there. Feeling like an idiot, I lowered the axe and sighed.

'Welcome.'

I screamed and spun around, hand on the axe, heart beating wildly. There, in the bedroom, facing me, was a man, clad in a suit and tie – his hair was short and gave me the feeling that it was blonde, but I couldn't tell. His eyes were black, and his face in an empty frown, like that of a man with nothing. Like the ghosts, he must have come out of the ceiling, because black goo stuck on the ceiling just above him.

'Who are you?' I asked axe in both hands, head behind mine, poised to strike.

'Do you really not know?' there was no sarcasm, just blunt disappointment. I lowered the axe a little and stepped forward one step.

'Thomas?'

'Well met,' the man said, bowing and smiling a little. 'I am Thomas Iridan, writer for the Ashfield Informer. Victim number fifteen, Despair.'

'What do you want?' I asked as I entered the bedroom, stepping towards the window.

'I'm not here to hurt you David,' he said calmly. 'I've been waiting for you to reach the bottom – we must speak.'

'Why would I want to talk to you?' I asked. This was a ghost, and I hated them. If he pulled anything, I'd be ready.

'If I wanted to kill you, I'd have done so when you and Emily were almost sleeping. Now listen to me.'

Slowly, I leaned the axe against the wall and relaxed, but was ready to grab it if he tried anything. 'Shoot.'

'By now, you may have realised that Derecks is immortal. You can not kill him through strength of arms – alone. Only with the weapons of the Devil can his protection be shattered. There are only three, and I know that you've seen them before. In time, you'll figure it out.

'The Mother is slowly gaining power, and in the Uttermost Depths, she is close to awakening. Ralph has delayed too long, and the Mother will soon be born in this world, if you don't hurry. Take the placards I received from my journeys – they may help you.'

On the bed suddenly appeared a red, blue, purple, and yellow tablet: Anguish, Treachery, Darkness, and Heresy. I stepped forward and grabbed them, having left my bag downstairs. Anguish depicted a man on a torture device; Treachery depicted a man stabbing another in the back; Darkness was utterly blank; and Heresy depicted a man before an altar, being pointed at by a figure upon the altar. I looked back to Thomas.

'What do I do? Where do I go?'

'Go back to your house, and take the key from the Altar. Enter the Necropolis, and search for the key to Assumption.'

'Where is the Necropolis?'

'You'll have to figure that out for yourself, David.' Thomas faded into nothingness. 'Until next time . . .'

After a moment of retrospect, I descended the stairs to find Emily coming down the hallway. I walked past her and put the placards in the bag – I grabbed the axe and prepared to go through the hole in the closet.

'What happened?' Emily said from the stairs. 'Where did you go?'

'I met Thomas,' I said as I prepared myself to go into the hole. I then, on a whim, took three unlit candles from a nearby table. Putting them in the bag, I faced the hole. 'He told me I had to go to my house, take the key from the Altar, and enter the Necropolis to search for the key to Assumption. I don't know what he's talking about either, but . . .'

Emily walked towards me, and looked in the closet. She gasped, and stepped back, clutching my arm. At first I didn't understand, but I slowly got it.

'You see it too?'

'Yeah,' she breathed, putting her hand to it, inside it, touching the inside edges. I told her to follow me, and I crawled in. After about a minute of crawling, we found ourselves in hallway of my actual house. There was no falling asleep – the hole led straight to my house. Emily saw the chains on my door and gasped, but I was quickly in motion, crawling into the space under my house and coming to the shrine and the 'Door to Assumption'.

After a little inspection, I discovered the shrine had a moveable top. Almost in disbelief, I pushed it off and there, the sole item inside, was a key: a skeleton face with fangs on one end. I crawled back to the house, and Emily was waiting.

'What did you —'

I held up the key, examining it, and she looked at it too. It seemed we both had the same thought at the same time, because after our gaze fell on what we believed the key went to, we looked to each other.

The chains on the front door.