(A/N) So, in a little under a month, I have gotten chapter 15 completed. This would be the first chapter of 2021 and halfway up to chapter 20, which I wouldn't imagine I'd have gotten this far into the writing stage... but I have... two sort of accomplishments here.

This chapter... I wouldn't say it's 'memo heavy' per se, but it does have memos from SH3 within. To make it tolerable and easier to skip / skim through, if you know the passages off by heart, or just don't want to read these memos again, I have done what I usually do with memo text; it is bold and italicised.

I say this every time, but this chapter is far from the best. Also, since I've been proud of me finally writing over 2k words, trust me that is an achievement for me, I'll mention this chapter's word count, ignoring the author's note. 4,377 words!

No flames please~! If you feel that some improvements could be made, don't be afraid to say so; tell me what I did good or bad, and like I just said, improvements are very much appreciated!

Disclaimer: I do not own these franchises, or their characters. Resident Evil belongs to CAPCOM, Silent Hill and Metal Gear Solid belong to KONAMI and Final Fantasy belongs to SQUARE ENIX.

Chapter 15: Familiar Signs

He found him. It took a lot of running, jumping, and parkour that almost got him killed, but in the end it was all worth it. Henry had both found Harry and caught up to his captors, the only thing left was to make them let go of his friend.

Keeping his gun pointed at them, he scanned them. The woman with the red lensed gas mask stood with her arms folded, relaxed. The man with the green get up had Harry dangling off his shoulder, unconscious. With the pair having their faces covered, Henry couldn't properly gauge what they were thinking; it was the equivalent of looking at a cardboard box.

He tensed when the woman took a step forward. "Henry Townshend, number twenty-one," she stated in a monotone voice, looking him up and down. "We have done some digging into your personal background."

That sent shivers down his spine. What exactly did she 'dig up' on him?

"We have done some research into the rest of your party, too," she continued. "You want this man, correct?"

Henry nodded.

"Unfortunately, that is not a request we can grant. Like you, we have our priorities, our own objectives that we intend to carry out."

"You carry out her orders..." Henry mumbled, looking down at the ground.

They stood in silence, until the woman spoke up again. "I am Foxtrot and this is India," she said, pointing to the man in green. "We are members of Uno Squad."

"Why are you telling me this?" Henry asked. "Just let Harry go."

"I already told you that we cannot grant that request," Foxtrot took another step forward. "We have orders to retrieve a few chess pieces for our Saviour's game. Yourself and Harry are included, unfortunately for you. James is yet to be found, which makes things difficult for us, but you could make our task easier by willingly surrendering yourself."

Henry shook his head.

This prompted the man in green, India, to place Harry down on the ground, before getting into a fighting stance. "Last chance," he said.

"We hoped we could avoid physical confrontation, but I should have known that you would not surrender easily," the woman got into a fighting stance herself. "Surrender, or..."

The brunette stood his ground, his aim still glued to the opposing pair.

"Have it your way..." Foxtrot sighed, as she went to deliver a roundhouse kick, prompting Henry to duck and step out of the way. This was followed by India charging into him, his face making contact with an armoured elbow.

Henry hit the ground hard, rolling near the edge of the roof. His grip on his gun tightened, as he accidentally pressed down on the trigger, causing Foxtrot and India to stop in their tracks to look themselves over. The brunette seized this opportunity to aim at India's stomach and shoot. The man in green coughed and hunched over, gasping in pain, as Foxtrot growled in anger and proceeded to step on Henry relentlessly.

"Fox..." India groaned in a strained voice, barely able to get out that first syllable.

This caused Foxtrot to refocus her priorities, as she ran to India and lifted his arm over her shoulder. She gave Henry one last glare, before she ran.

Henry was achy and bruised, but at least Harry was safe now. He knew that if one of them was injured, they wouldn't be able to carry an extra person, so that's why he shot... a human being. He didn't dwell on it longer, as consciousness slipped away from him, but he figured that those people were threats... it was self-defence.

The third floor was void of life, much like the rest of the building. At this point, it wasn't surprising. With nothing to impede their progress, Heather and Zidane made their way to the store room located on that floor. Of course, they had the weight of Leon to contend with too, which slowed them down slightly, but they made it.

Opening door, they entered and immediately placed the agent down, gently resting near a wall. The room was just as cluttered as most of the rooms, but looking around never really hurt anyone. Heather went ahead and searched the end of the room, while Zidane went to have a nosy in the shelves.

He was happy to find two Med Plus drinks, but immediately flinched when he noticed a familiar doll in a pink dress. This naturally meant that Stanley Coleman had written once again, and it didn't take Zidane long to see the open note book beside the doll. What could he have written this time?

Begrudgingly, he leaned over to read it:

"Heather, my most sacred lover.
I'm always watching you.
No matter where you are or what you may be doing,
I have never lost sight of you."

Zidane involuntarily stopped reading to look around. "Creep..." he whispered under his breath.

"Did you say something?" Heather asked, looking up from the drawer she was investigating.

He shook his head. "No..."

"Great..." she sighed, paling slightly with a worried expression. Was she okay?

He would ask, but she said she didn't want to talk about her problems...

With a sigh, he returned to the note:

"I know you feel intensely lonely.
Yet with a single key to this door, those feelings won't stand in the way any longer."

'Heather isn't the lonely one here, buddy...' Zidane thought to himself.

"We haven't been able to see each other for so long.
Be patient — it's just a little longer.
I'll be patient, too, even though I long to hold you in these hands of mine."

"This guy really gives me serial killer vibes..."

"Stanley Coleman?" Heather asked, as she made her way to investigate the shelves behind her.

"Yup..."

"Let me guess... a note?"

Zidane nodded with a look of disgust on his face.

"How bad is it?" She questioned with a small smirk.

"I can't describe it..."

"Glad I didn't find it, then," she said, before turning to the shelf behind her.

Shaking his head with a small smile, Zidane looked back down at the note:

"The key is behind the shelves in the underground garage.
Why there?
Ask that idiot doctor."

'Now we're talking, Stanley...'

"There's not a single person here who's right in the head.
Not just in this hospital — I mean in all of Silent Hill.
Except me.

— Stanley Coleman"

'Okay, now he's back to talking rubbish...'

Closing the notebook, Zidane thought the text over. It didn't explicitly state where the code was to be used, just where to find it, which was useless at this point. Unless... Stanley meant the third floor patient wing doors? They were planning to check that place out anyway, so it was inevitable that they would try the code.

Regardless of whether that information was useful or not, he still wanted to tell Heather. Looking up at the girl, he noticed that she wasn't where she was stood before, however, he could see the top of her head poking from the top of the desk in the room. She probably found something of interest on the ground and went to check it out.

"Heather," he said in an effort to get her attention, but got no response. Pocketing the two drinks he had found, he made his way towards her, pausing as soon as he rounded the corner.

Heather was crouched on the ground with her hands on her head, her face twisted in pain. If that wasn't raising red flags, then the large, red symbol on the ground in front of the girl sure did. It was the exact same symbol that he and Leon had found in the reception. The strange glowing one that made the agent's radio emit static. The one that looked cursed...

Was Heather's pain caused by this symbol, or was it some sort of coincidence?

Not wanting to get too close to the symbol himself, Zidane hopped over the desk and made his way to her from the other direction. "Are you okay?" He asked, as he slowly approached her.

The pain must have increased tenfold, as she began screaming. This prompted Zidane to run to her side like a bullet. There was nothing he could really do either... he didn't know what was going on with her, what was causing it, or how to make the pain go away. The only thing he could do was repeatedly tell her that it was going to be okay, while rubbing her back. Even then, her screaming continued.

He was that caught up in trying to comfort her, he didn't hear footsteps coming up behind him.

"What's going on?!" A concerned voice asked.

When Zidane turned to the source of the voice, he was relieved to see that it was Leon. He was fine, but he just looked both worried and confused at the same time. The agent's worry looked to increase the longer the kid stayed silent.

"I don't know," he finally replied, raising his voice slightly over Heather's screaming. "One minute we were looking around in here and then the next, she's on the ground screaming."

At that response, Leon hopped over the desk and made his way to the girl's front, placing a hand on her shoulder. It wasn't going to help with the pain, but at least she had some more comfort.

Eventually, her screams where reduced to shaky breaths, as she rested with her back against the wall, eyes closed. Leon and Zidane sat in silence, trying to wrap their heads around what had happened, while keeping an eye on Heather. It didn't take long for questions to begin surfacing.

"Was that related to the parasite thing, or...?" Zidane asked.

The agent shook his head in response. "No, I don't think so," he replied. "But whatever caused that... we need to get to the bottom of it."

"Yeah..."

The pair sat in silence a little longer, before it finally registered for the agent that something wasn't right. Firstly, they definitely weren't in the room he coughed up blood in; they were in a room with items glued to a wall, not what looked to be a storeroom. Secondly, Heather wasn't with them originally, she was with James, and speaking of the devil, where was he? Based on this large gap in his memory, he no doubt lost consciousness, but how long had he been out for? And what had transpired?

He turned to the kid who looked to be deep in thought about something.

"Zidane, you wanna fill me in on what's happened?" Leon said, rooting in his pocket.

"Yeah," he nodded, handing Leon the map he knew he was looking for. "You remember coughing up blood, right?"

He nodded.

"Well, you passed out... I tried to wake you up, but nothing worked," the kid explained, folding his arms. "I'm glad to see you're okay," he added with a relieved smile. "I thought you'd be out longer."

"Thanks," the agent pocketed the map and began looking his handgun over. "What happened after?"

"I'm getting to that. So, Heather and James must've gotten to the same floor as us, since it sounded like they heard me freaking out and ran into the room. You were checked over and Heather found the note... she's aware of that Stanley guy, by the way."

Leon flinched upon hearing that name. The guy was... saying odd would be an understatement.

"Heather actually had some nail polish remover that she used to get the key. It was for the stairwell, which we used to get to the basement. You were carried around with us. We were attacked by nurses on the way and I had one point a gun at my head... I was saved, strangely..."

"By who?" Leon asked raising a brow.

Zidane shrugged. "I don't know, but it wasn't Heather or James, apparently. I saw red fabric round a corner... only I saw it, so..."

The agent took this new information in with a nod. Could it be who he thought it was?

"Anyway, in the basement, we found a shelf, where Heather used an instant camera to take a picture of the code that was behind it. We split up, because James wanted to check out the roof, so Heather, myself, and you came here... you know the rest," he concluded, gesturing to Heather.

"Yeah..."

"This isn't the first time this has happened to me..." Heather said suddenly, startling her companions. "It happened in one of the locker rooms, too..."

"What do you think it is?" Leon asked.

"Visions," was her simple reply, prompting Leon to raise his eyebrows in disbelief. "I don't know if they're telling me the future... or even the past..."

"What do these visions show you?" Zidane asked, tapping a finger on his chin.

"They're very vague..." she replied, opening her eyes and sitting up.

"Tell us what happened, from the start," Leon told her.

She nodded. "I'll start by saying that I think the symbol has something to with it..."

"How come?" Zidane asked, eyeing it suspiciously.

"When I made eye contact with it, I felt a slight ache in my head," she stated. "I approached it, because something about it felt very familiar to me... The ache got worse and I collapsed..." her voice was getting progressively shaky as she continued. "I saw a red light, then a demon killing an older woman who felt familiar to me... seeing her die made me feel both sad and relieved..."

Leon and Zidane briefly glanced at each other, before turning their attention back to Heather.

"Then I saw... a young woman in a white dress holding a baby in her arms... and then..." she pointed to the symbol on the ground. "That same symbol, but it was on an alter..."

"What do you think it all means?" The agent asked, looking on in thought.

"I don't know, but we don't have much time," Heather said, standing up shakily and dusting herself off. "Did you find anything useful in here, Zidane?"

"Not really, but I think we should check the nearby patient wing," he replied, standing up. "I have a feeling that the code is for that door."

"Makes sense..."

"Come on, let's get moving," Leon stated, leading the group out of the room.

As they made their way to the set of double-doors leading to the patient wing, Heather grabbed Leon's sleeve. "What about James?"

"She has point," Zidane stopped and glanced at the stairwell door. "He's been on that roof for a long time, hasn't he?"

"I've got to find him!" Heather went to bolt to the stairwell door, but Leon grabbed her arm.

"You're not going on your own!"

"But -!" She was interrupted, when they heard a click of a lock coming from the Special Treatment Room to the right.

The trio tensed up as they readied their weapons, prepared to face whatever was going to come at them. The handle was pulled down and the door opened to reveal James. He had a pained expression on his face, which had some blood dripping down, and was gripping his sides, as he began to limp towards the group.

Heather gasped, as she ran towards the visibly injured man and stopped him by gently grabbing his shoulders. "Are you okay?!"

"Does he look okay?!" Leon snapped, as he ran up to James and took him out of Heather's hands to sit him down against the wall. "Try to relax for a minute."

James simply nodded.

"What happened to you?" Zidane asked, his expression concerned, as he approached. "Did you get pushed off the roof or something?"

James smiled, grimly. "If you had said 'kicked off the roof,' then you would have been one hundred percent correct..."

The trio's faces paled.

"I was just joking..."

"What?" Leon asked.

"Yeah..." James paused to cough. "I ran into a man with a gas mask... he called himself 'Delta'..."

"Delta?" Heather repeated. "I don't think we've seen him before..."

"We haven't..." Leon told her, turning his attention back to James. "Did he say anything important?"

He nodded. "He mentioned Sphinx... your 'Cat Friend' from before..."

Zidane rubbed the back of his neck with a sigh. "Great... that guy..."

"Apparently, he is going to find you three and bring you to that woman..."

Leon raised an eyebrow, while Heather folded her arms.

"Why us...?" She asked.

"He didn't say..."

"We just have to keep our eyes peeled," Leon stated, as everyone nodded in agreement.

"I also found this..." James said, giving the agent the document he found on the roof. "I haven't read it... but it sounds useful..."

"Uno Squad?" Leon read the front. "We'll look into it later, but -"

"And Heather... I believe this is yours..." he handed her a familiar looking notebook, which made her and the rest of the group flinch. "I'm glad to see you're alright, Leon..."

"Thanks, but you need help."

"Here," Zidane pulled out one of the Med Plus drinks he had collected and handed it to James. "Drink up!"

"What is it?" He asked, reading the back of the label.

"I think it's a nutrition drink that can dull and heal pain."

"Does it work?"

The kid shrugged. "I don't know, you're the first to try one."

James raised an eyebrow and began taking cautious sips of the medicine.

"Flowing freely, your ebony hair
Like the night sky,
scattering fragrance," Heather began to read, in an exaggerated voice.

"My heart, clamoring in my chest
Like a storm, you trifle with it.

Your pristine glance,
Like a feast, when you smile.

My thoughts disturbed, my breath
Like opium, it drives me mad."

"He's writing you poetry, now?" Zidane chuckled, while Leon leaned against the wall with a smirk, as he took glances at James.

"Apparently," Heather shrugged, before she continued:

"...Eric, a great poet who conveys
my feelings so well.
I shouldn't have let this place get to
me, should never have gone crazy.
But it's superbly enjoyable to
drown in my love for you.

But why won't you accept
proof of my love?
Don't stand on ceremony, now.

After all, you and I exist as one.
What I give to you is the same as
what I give to me.

— Stanley Coleman."

Upon concluding the note, she tossed it at the nearest wall. "He's still creepy..."

"You got that right..." Leon said, as he turned to James who had some colour return to his face. "Did that actually work...?"

"I think so," James replied, as he stood up straight and dusted himself off. "Well... my bones aren't broken anymore, but my face is still stained..." he said, wiping some blood off with his sleeve.

"I'll be damned..."

Heather just looked on in disbelief. "Seriously..."

Zidane wore a smug grin. "I bet you're glad I collected those now, aren't you, Leon?"

The agent simply nodded, the shock not leaving his face as he turned to James. "If you got pushed off the roof, how did you end up in the Special Treatment Room?"

"I don't know," James replied, folding his arms. "The same thing happened during my first time in this town." He turned to Heather. "Did you find anything in the Storeroom?"

"No..." She replied.

"I found a note from Stan that was useless," Zidane told him. "We were going to try the code on the doors just ahead."

"Alright," James nodded, as the group continued on their way to the patient wing.

The third floor patient wing was no different from the patient wings before it; dark, empty, and cluttered in the corners. With nothing of interest being there, they entered the first room to their left, S1.

S1 was not a very spacious room, that much so, that the group had to enter in a single file line; Leon was in the lead, followed by Zidane, James, then Heather. The room was fortunately very well lit, so it wasn't a battle to see and the only furniture within the room was a bed, which took up most of the space and had a magazine on it, and a nightstand beside the bed that had various medications on top of it. Amongst those medications, were two Med Plus drinks, which Leon immediately grabbed and placed in his pocket.

"Aww, come on, Leon! I thought I had a collection of those going," Zidane said with a grin.

"Well, I'm sorry to ruin your 'collection,' but it's best to spread them equally, since they were useful when treating James' injuries," Leon stated wearing a grin of his own.

"Yeah, you're right."

"I still can't believe that stuff actually worked," Heather folded her arms.

"I want to know what it's made out of," James said, sitting down on the bed and glancing at the magazine. "Teaching Despair: 'Hope House'"

"Hope House?" Heather leaned down to read over James' shoulder, who had picked the magazine up.

"'Hope House', an orphanage on
the outskirts of Silent Hill. But
behind its false image is a place
where children are kidnapped
and brainwashed."

"Wait," Heather interrupted. "I thought that place was called 'Wish House,' not what this article says."

"Yeah... Henry called it the 'Wish House,' didn't he..." James replied, raising an eyebrow.

"Are you saying that this lady got something inaccurate?" Zidane asked, failing to hide his amusement. "That's good."

"How would Henry..." Leon trailed off. "Was he kidnapped as a child?"

"As far as I know, he wasn't," James stated. "He encountered this place while jumping through all those holes."

"Walter Sullivan on the other hand..." Heather began. "Henry told me that he went there."

James continued to read:

"Hope House is managed by the
'Silent Hill Smile Support Society',
a charity organization sometimes
called '4S'.
It's true that 4S is a well-respected
charity that 'takes in poor children
without homes and raises them with
hope'.

But at its heart, it is a heathen
organization that teaches its own
warped dogma in lieu of good
religious values."

"A cult..." Leon interrupted, prompting James to nod.

"We're getting to that..." James said, before he continued:

"Mr. Smith (temp), who lives near
'Hope House', had this to say:
'Sometimes at night I can hear their
weird prayers and the sounds of
[children] crying. I went there to
complain one time, but they ran me
right out. Since then, it hasn't changed
a bit.'

In fact, this reporter was refused
admission when he attempted to
take photographs in the facility.
What exactly do the folks at
'Hope House' have to hide?

During my investigations, I was
able to discover, however, a
suspicious-looking round concrete
tower which appears to be part of
their facilities.

Unfortunately no one was willing
to tell us what the tower was used
for. But it seems unlikely that it has
anything to do with the business of
raising orphans. It may in fact be a
prison, or a secret place of worship.

The cult religion that operates
'Hope House' is known by the
locals simply as 'The Order'."

"The Order...?" Heather mumbled. "That name sounds familiar..."

"I think Henry mentioned it to us..." James informed her. "If that's what you're thinking of."

She shook her head. "No... I've heard it from somewhere else..."

"It's a religion that is deeply interwoven
with Silent Hill's history.
But its worshippers' fervent belief
that they are among the elite 'chosen
people' has a dark and dangerous side."

"And I thought the Los Illuminados were freaks..." Leon said to himself.

"Yeah, these guys tried to birth some demon they called 'God'," Heather stated. "I was used as the original sacrifice when I was..." she paused, rubbing her aching head.

"What?" Leon asked in bafflement, as the other two group members looked just as confused.

"I don't know..." she sighed. "I must be tired... that made no sense..."

The men just stared, before finally letting James finish the article:

"I intend to continue my
investigation of 'Hope House'
and the cult behind it.
I've always believed that 'telling
the whole truth' and showing the
children the true path is our most
important duty.

— Joseph Schreiber."

"Joseph Schreiber? He's the journalist that went missing, right?" The agent asked.

James shook his head. "He died in his apartment... which was also Henry's apartment..."

"Oh..."

"Yeah... not even James and I know much about Joseph, except for the fact that he was Walter's fifteenth victim," Heather told him.

"And a journalist," James added.

"He was doing some research into this cult, so could they have just silenced him to stop too much getting out?" Zidane suggested, placing a hand on his stomach and rubbing it.

"That's a popular theory, but if we stand here talking about this, we won't be getting much done," Heather said, turning to face the door.

"Good point, we should..." Zidane's reply trailed off into a groan, as he leaned onto the nearest wall for support and continued to rub his stomach.

"Are you okay?" Leon asked in alarm, as Heather and James paused by the door in worry.

The tailed-boy nodded. "Yeah, my stomach's just cramping... it could be from that nurse horde earlier..."

"They didn't touch you..." Heather told him.

"I could've strained that area..." he shrugged, slowly standing straight.

"Do you need to rest?" James asked, to which the kid shook his head.

"We'll keep moving, then," Leon stated. "But if it worsens, let us know, so we can give you a break."

He nodded. "Alright."

Chapter 15? Done and dusted!

Again, I did say that this chapter is a bit of a mixed bag, but writing it was fun to a degree. I had to push through a bunch of mental blocks, though. I'm having a ton of personal issues piling up and I don't have a way to vent, so it's been annoying trying to suppress these things while writing. I'd just stare in space sometimes... just thinking. I've even been feeling anxious about nothing, which is stressing me out and add that to having apergers (it's not even called that anymore is it?)...

So, now that the trials of what goes on in my head while writing is out of the way, a bit of minor trivia about this chapter. Before I settled on the current title, this chapter had two other titles. The original title was 'Hysterical Visions,' which was what it was called on the planning sheet. When I began writing the chapter proper, I changed the title to 'Attacks and Visions,' but because I gradually became... not so keen on the title, I re-read the chapter and changed the title again to 'Familiar Signs,' in reference to Heather saying that things look familiar to her. I know, creative right?

Wow... this is one long ass author's note... Anyway, that's my inner ramblings out of the way.

I always say this, but don't always expect fast updates. Sometimes they happen, other times they don't.

Improvements are appreciated, please tell me what I did right, wrong and how I can improve. If you would like, you could also favourite and follow this fic, as well as suggest areas of improvement, which I guess is the same as the first sentence. R&R and thanks for reading!