Silent Hill is what you bring with you!

by agent-jill-valentine

No Summary. Read the first chapter. Beyond that, its up to you. Reviews have slight spoiler.

Silent Hill is what you bring with you!

Silent Hill is a trademark of Konami. This story and its central character are property of agent_jill_valentine@hotmail.com. PG due to some infrequent swearing and gore. Silent Hill is horror in case you hadn't noticed. I've taken some liberties with the layout of the town of Silent Hill. Bear with me. Silent Hill is, after all, what you bring with you.

No summary. Start it the same way Kim does. Italics are probably all just part of Kim's own mind trying to make itself heard.

Probably.

Well, mostly.

Chapter One. Wake up.

Kim woke up. At first, she had no sense of where she was or who she was. Moments passed. Still nothing. There was only a blank where her memory should be. She stretched and tried to get her bearings. She caught a glimpse of her hands, spiderwebbed by old, unfamiliar scars. She tried in vain to find a memory to explain them. She frowned. A car. She was a passenger in a parked car. There was nobody in the driver's seat. For now, that was all she knew. The clock read 2. 52 PM, but it was dark. No. Misty. A milky fog pushed in at the car from all directions. There was nothing else to be seen but road, ahead and behind. The car couldn't have crashed. Still, she checked her head for impact. It was like she had never seen this car before. Like her memory was gone. She tried to remember anything. She could only find patches, disjointed pictures. A kitchen sink. A magazine. Getting dressed. (An old memory, she was wearing different clothes now.) Other pictures. A sports bag. Sitting on a chair-

-Lying in a car. An old car, no airbag. She is face first into the dashboard. She can feel blood running down her nose, over her mouth. She spits the blood away but her mouth is full of blood too. She can't move her head, but she's not sure why. (The glass) She can't open her eyes. She feels kind of sick. (The windshield) Her eyes are open, it's just too dark to really see. Nausea comes in waves. She wants to gag. Her left eye is twitching. (The windshield is in your face.) She can see a shape in the corner of her eye. Its like a huge piece of meat slapped over the dashboard. (His name is Todd.)

His name was Todd. She had been driving. Her name was …Kim? Yeah, felt right. He had been hurt in the accident, badly. His legs had been shattered. He hadn't spoken to her since. Kim hadn't been allowed to drive since. That's why she was the passenger. She knew these things, but she had no memory of learning them, of how she knew them. It was like a story that somebody else was telling her. Curious, she opened the windshield mirror. Sure enough, a long ragged scar slashed her left eyebrow. Her hair was dyed, a faded unnatural red. She might have been pretty, but for the scar. It dominated her face. She traced it with her finger. It was four inches long, driving down her forehead and cutting an abrupt valley across the top of her nose. She had other little scars, showered across her forehead. She was amazed that it was possible to forget her own face. Especially when it was as distinctive as hers.

It had been an old car, a jalopy. The glass was untempered and shattered in the impact. She heard screaming.

She heard a scream. And then it was gone. Probably just part of her fractured mind leaking into the real world. (Where is the driver Kim?) She looked about her. There was a rucksack in the back. She unhitched her seatbelt and twisted to get it. It was heavy. Inside was a gun, a Sig-Sauer by the inscription. She knew nothing about guns. She put it back in the rucksack. Jesus. There were bullets inside. Hundreds of them, as well as two empty clips. Instinctively, but quickly, she filled the clips. (Did that awfully quickly didn't you?) Better safe than sorry, right? Something was bothering her. Well, something else. She reached for the door, and it dawned on her.

The key was in the ignition. The doors were locked from the inside. How had the driver-(WHO had been driving?) -left the car? She pondered it for a while and gingerly tried the ignition. The key turned in full circles, catching nothing. She groped around for the jump wires. Nothing to grip. She wasn't a professional at this, (How do you know?) but this was weird. She rummaged around in the rucksack. Maybe there was something else in there. In the front pocket was a cellphone. She switched it on. Must be broken. The screen was black, but a rippling black. It was like watching a pool of oil. Mesmerising in a way. She stared into it, that blank LCD screen. It was captivating, like those Magic-Eye pictures popular a few years back. It was a though there was something behind it. Something to be seen, if only you could look. A living, (Not quite, my dear.) moving thing. She could glimpse it if she just-

She was screaming. She didn't know why. She shook too. The clock read 3. 28. Christ. Where had the time gone? She put her hands to the dashboard to kill the shakes. (The phone.) She looked at the screen, without thinking. It didn't matter anyway. Whatever she had seen in it was gone now. She couldn't grip the memory of what it had been, but her still shaking hands gave her the impression she didn't want to know either. Don't think about it too much. Let it be for now. She shook her head. She was being silly. (See how easy it is to lie to yourself when you need to?) Now the screen was completely blank. She dialled for Triple A. After she hit the first button, she heard a connection. Out of sheer curiosity, she listened.

Nothing. At first. Then static. Behind the gently rising static was something else. A faint laugh, childlike and innocent. She smiled. Some kid must have dialled her cell-"your" cell?- by accident. She'd heard stuff like this before. Once, she tried to ring-And then another voice started. Another child? No. This voice was different. It was a moan, a terrible moan. The static rose. The laughter got louder. The moans got louder too, panicked, in dread. It too was childish in a way. Like a child cries after being hurt. A reaction, even though the child knows it will do no good, grant no respite. The laughter got louder, no longer innocent. It still sounded like a child, but it was poisoned, lunatic laughter, somehow awful. The moans became screams. She couldn't make out words, but it was begging, she recognised that much. Pleading. It got even louder. The voice started to break, a desperate yelling. It quivered and leaped, as though reacting to something. (The pain, of course.) The shrieking started to form a sort of prayer, but there was no faith, no hope left. The words were coming franticly now, but the static and the laughter rose just enough to obscure every one. The voice broke more frequently now too. The static and laughter both died. Then one last word, and the voice was cut short. There were still sounds. Wet, dying sounds. The owner of the voice could no longer plead, but neither could he yet die. The laughter got louder still. Then it got far away, taking its static with it. It died away until she could barely hear it, but she knew it was still there, if she could listen. As were the sloppy dying breaths she had heard. They would be there for a time to come. If she could listen. But she could not. She switched off the phone, and threw it back in the rucksack. Cold tears streamed down her face.

Then her head caught up with her. The word that she had been let hear; it was her name.

He had not been pleading with his tormentor for mercy. He had been pleading with her for help.

Chapter Two. Finding her Bearings.

Her eyes were bloodshot now. She had sat here for well over an hour, and still her hands were shaking. The tears had stopped. As long as she didn't think about it, she could cope. It wasn't a prank call, no way. Maybe it had something to do with the gun. Don't think about it. She had been sitting here clutching the gun for the hour, safety off. Nothing had come. She had gotten splinters of memory back. Nothing useful. Mostly the accident. The car had gone off the road before a bridge and smashed into the river wall. A lucky escape really. She could have gone into the water. She remembered dragging herself out of the car, though one of her knees had been broken and the other was badly damaged. She didn't like to think about just how she had freed herself of the windshield. Her pockets turned up nothing. No ID, no photos. A small amount of cash.

It was getting into the late afternoon now. It would be getting dark real soon. Real soon. Between the dark and the fog, it would soon be impossible to see anything at all. She weighed up her options. She could stay here, in a dead car, and hope for rescue, maybe spend the night. It would be risky though. In the off chance that a car would come, it wouldn't see her until the last moment. This was a mountain road. Drivers wouldn't expect to see another car stopped on the road, no lights. And then, if the car got hit, it was just that little guard rail between her and the shortest route imaginable to the bottom of the mountain. (You are making excuses.) Alternatively, she could get out and head for the nearest town. The fog was looking a little lighter now. (You're afraid.) She knew that the car had been heading towards town when it stopped. (Of the car?) She didn't know what town or even how she knew, but she did. (Or the phone?) She would walk to the town. (If you go to that town, phone calls will be the least of your worries.) Another search of the car turned up a small flashlight. If a car did appear, she could be seen. She checked for anything else. A pair of buckskin gloves. Nice. She would appreciate them later. It was colder than she had realised. Her breath iced even inside the car. It was probably much colder out there. Even as she thought about it, it started to snow. All logic told her to stay here in the car. Somehow she just felt the need to move. Perhaps, she just wanted to occupy herself. Positive action or something like that. She briefly considered leaving the phone. Don't be silly. I've seen this movie. That's what victims do. Right before they need a phone. The screen was still blank. Relieved, she put it in her pocket. She buttoned up her coat and grabbed the keys. She locked the door again after her.

The light was already starting to fade, even through the fog. It was indeed very cold out here. She was wearing jeans and runners, and even the fleece lining on the coat didn't stop her shivering. She set off in the direction that she knew the town lay. She wondered as she walked, if that was where the driver had gone. (You mean you hope that's where he went.) She was so absorbed in thought, that she didn't notice the slick of blood crawling out from underneath the car. She stepped in it, and walked on. She was probably better off.

After half a mile or so, her joints began to ache, especially her knees. It's been like this since the accident. The cold always makes it worse. Her eye twitched uncontrollably the more she shivered. Yeah. Nerve damage. Don't worry about it. Her face had begun to ache above her scar. The accident had done an awful lot of lasting damage, by the looks of things. Not as much as it had done to Todd. She was starting to remember him. Her boyfriend. He'd been a sports star in high school. She could picture him in his football uniform. By the time he'd reached college, he was about to go pro. After the accident, she reckoned he must not have had much of a career in sport anymore. Jesus. That must have been tough.

She was brought back to earth by a huge sign emerging from the fog and snow. She had been careful not to leave the roadside, and nearly walked into it.

"Silent Hill! It's what you bring with you!"

She laughed. She must be near to the town now. She had nearly given herself a heart attack, all over a stupid sign. She stared at it. It didn't make any sense. The slogan wasn't exactly catchy. It wasn't going to be a winner with the tourists. What was it trying to suggest? That the town was flat pack? Or that it was memorable? She smiled. Memory wasn't her strong point at the moment. (Spike.) Her smile, and her good humour died. She started walking again. Spike? Spike! He had been driving! She even knew what he looked like. He had blue hair and piercings galore. She knew these things, but she still couldn't visualise him. His real name was Simon. He was…her new boyfriend? Maybe. It would come later. Wherever her memories were hiding, for now she could not find them.

She kept rolling it over in her head. "Silent Hill! It's what you bring with you!" Maybe they were trying to suggest that your impression of the town depended on your state of mind when you went in. What does that say for me? I'm just an innocent little amnesiac. (No one is innocent here, little girl.) She shivered again. She had the sudden sensation that she was being watched. She swallowed a lump in her throat. She'd never really believed that you could tell. But now she felt it. Eyes. She swivelled her rucksack off her shoulder and slipped out the gun. "Hello?" That was dumb. Don't victims do that too? She readied the pistol cautiously. She started to sweat, despite the cold. She heard snow crunch. She levelled the gun at the new sound. "Hello to you." A voice. Another person. Out of the fog, like a ghost, came a cop. Better than nothing.

"Didn't expect to see anybody else out here. What brings you out here now? It's dangerous for strangers here, especially on a night like this." It was like she didn't even see the gun. Kim stood slack jawed while a cop said howdy-do down a gun barrel. The woman hadn't even blinked. Kim pocketed the gun in amazement. It took her a moment to respond.

"Uh, my car broke down. I figured I might as well walk to town cuz it wasn't far." The woman broke into a warm smile. "Yeah, I had something similar happen to me." She gave a gosh-silly-me grin. She was friendly. Not at all the imposing officer of the law she had been a few minutes ago. She was tall. Short blond hair. A biker cop, by the look of things. "I'm Cybil." "Kim. Pleased ta meet ya." She was grateful that Cybil was being so informal. Cybil had given her only first name, and Kim didn't yet want to reveal that she could offer nothing else. They set off towards town at a leisurely pace. Kim caught a glance at her scar, but Cybil looked away tactfully. Kim suppressed a smile. Her new companion was trying to be kind.

Cybil went on casually. "My bike ditched a little further back the road. Couldn't get the damn thing started again. Mechanics aren't exactly my strong point. What brings you to this part of the world, if you don't mind my asking? We don't get many strangers round these parts."

Shit. You were-"Visiting a friend. Haven't seen him in years." She wasn't sure how true it was, but something of it was familiar. "What brings you out in this weather, officer?"

"It wasn't so bad a while ago." Cybil frowned briefly. "The fog just came out of nowhere. That's the mountains for you. You can get lost just going from town to town. That's why I was so surprised to see you. People have a habit of wandering off the road up here in fog like this. They disappear sometimes. Get, uhm…. lost. Still, as long as we keep to the road, we'll be okay."

They walked on through the increasingly heavy snow. The cop was wearing a short sleeved uniform shirt, but she wasn't even shivering. Kim frowned. "Say, it's getting pretty cold out here. It'll be dark soon too. Any idea how far it is to town?"

"We're on the outskirts now. Under Silent Hill jurisdiction. Sort of. Sometimes things overlap. That's why we're here. I wouldn't be meeting you otherwise." Cybil laughed jarringly. The alarm bells rang a little louder. There was something awfully familiar in that laugh. (You're not in Kansas anymore, little girl.)

"Silent Hill huh? Will we be there soon?" Kim tried to hide the increasing discomfort from her voice. She wasn't convinced Cybil would have noticed anyway. She was getting more agitated the further they walked. "Uh, Cybil…are you alright?"

"Fine. I'm just in a hurry. I have to meet someone." (Wasn't in a rush a minute ago, was she? It's the... No, that would be telling, wouldn't it? Keep walking, little girl. You'll know soon enough. )

Just keep her talking. "Anybody important?" She was trying to sound casual, but her voice was quaking.

Cybil stopped walking and turned to face her. She gripped Kim's shoulders. Her face was one of white fear.

"I don't know." The anguish was real. For a split second, Kim met the real Cybil, a frightened young woman with no idea what she was doing or why. She was like a puppet with cut strings and bloody hands. Her eyes…she was so scared. And then she was gone, as suddenly as she had appeared. Like a shadow on water. But Kim knew what she had seen. "I don't know him really. Just some guy stirring it up in town. I have to go and deal with him. Orders from above." She smirked knowingly. There was no trace of the other Cybil anymore. The sharkish smile of the woman confirmed it. The Cybil she met just a second ago had been smothered completely. They shuffled on in silence and all the while Cybil got more and more restless.

"Here's where we part company. We'll be in the town soon. I have to go and meet my guy."

"I might see you around." Said Kim, hoping to God that she wouldn't.

"I don't think so. " Cybil smiled, and it was almost real. A short time ago, Kim would have believed it. Now though, this felt like a bad impersonation. "Good luck" Cybil sneered, and then she ran into the fog, leaving Kim to mull over her parting words.

Kim couldn't have followed if she wanted to. She hadn't noticed, but her knees felt like splintering wood now. She wondered about the safety of letting an armed schizophrenic run around in this fog in a small town, uniformed or not. Frankly she didn't care. Whatever inner demons Cybil was wrestling, she seemed intent on carrying them elsewhere. And that suited Kim just fine. It wasn't so much the menace Cybil's voice had carried at the end of the conversation, it was the terror that had preceded it. She had sounded so helpless. So desperate. One way or the other, Kim was glad to be free of her.

The fog produced another shape. A sign.

"You are now entering Silent Hill!"

Chapter Three. Meeting Silent Hill.

"You are now entering Silent Hill!"

These people sure do love their slogans.

"You'll never leave!" There was a tourist blurb on the sign that she couldn't yet read. If this had been a tourist town, it was past it's prime now. The sign was rusty, and the paint was flaking off. Holy Shit!

The sign was not rusty. It was bloody. The blood was old and tacky, but …it wasn't frozen. Blood. It was splashed liberally across the sign, no mean feat, considering the height of the sign itself. The sign's slogans took on a new menace. Her hand was on the pistol's grip though she was unaware of it. At the base of the sign was a helmet, on of those shiny white biker ones that cops used. She hoped it was Cybils, that she had just dumped it here or dropped it or something.(She didn't have a helmet with her though, did she?) She didn't want to wander too far from the road, but a quick inspection of the area revealed no other clues. She stared at the blood a while longer. The weird cop, Spike disappearing, this blood and-not to forget. Arf Arf- the amnesia. (Forgotten the PHONE CALL already?!?) She hoped this wasn't a normal day for her. She didn't like her sense of humour under fire. She didn't like being alone any more than she enjoyed the company of lunatics. She couldn't take much more of this hellish day. She just wanted to go wherever she should call home and stay there, safe and warm, and get some sleep. She was already having a nightmare, after all. Still gripping her pistol, she left the sign in the mist. For a reason she couldn't grasp yet, she wanted to get to town more than ever.

She gasped a little. Silent Hill was deserted. Completely. No sounds, no movement. Just fog. She had expected everybody to be indoors on a day like this, but…shops and cafes were empty. Cars were parked along the side of the road, but there was no traffic. Even Cybil would have been welcome company now. But the fog had swallowed her too. (Both of her.)

She steeled herself. "Hello?" Only her own voice back to her. The nearest building to her was a car rental agency. She glanced about her again, and sprinted for it. "Hi, We are OPEN!" the card screamed cheerfully. Great. The bell rang uselessly above the door. "Hello?" Nothing. No reply. She cautiously looked behind the counter. Nobody to be seen. On a hunch, she picked up the phone. Not a sound. Not even static. Just dead, like-(Everything else here?) -the car and her own phone. A radio. She turned the dial. Nothing. Wires and battery acid were leaking from the casing. Part of the back had been torn off, clumsily and savagely. She tossed it on the ground. She needed to rest her legs. She sat down at the desk, and scanned it. Nothing else but leaflets, tourist maps. Idly, she leafed through them. They told a depressing story. Some were nearly a decade out of date. The top of the pile was sun-faded. The oldest announced Silent Hill as a "bustling lakeside resort." Or a "booming tourist hotspot." Gradually, the language changed. The "newest" ones announced it as a "Peaceful haven" and "Off the tourists beaten track." The one that saddened her most begged tourists to "Get away from it all" in Silent Hill. This town had been passed by in later years, and was desperately trying to make a virtue of its very decline. Business looked to be slow here at the agency too. She had seen a garage as she came in. It looked like the place served a dual purpose, both hiring out cars and repairing them.

Her feet were wet. Her eyes were open but she couldn't see. Todd was screaming. Something about his legs. He was trapped in the car. Her legs hurt, but she could drag herself out. She would get out. Todd was begging her to help him. She couldn't in this state. She would get help.

Spike was a rocker, but despite his unorthodox appearance, he was basically a good guy. His language was a little crude sometimes, but he was never intentionally rude. He was her friend, nothing more. He knew that she didn't like travelling in cars, so he offered to drive for her. He was so sweet sometimes. (Where? Where were you going little girl?) She didn't know what her destination had been, but she remembered planning the route. She had laughed with him about his comical appearance, standing over the map, scratching his blue hair and calculating the mileage like some stereotype dad. He was funny like that sometimes. She smiled to think of it. She could visualise him now, looking cool and goofy all at once. He would tease her about her scar sometimes, but he never meant any harm, and he always knew when to stop. They shared the same friends too, though names and faces eluded her still. And then a wave of concern. He was gone, just like everybody else. (He's here somewhere though. "It's what you bring with you", right?)

Her phone bleeped. She swore. She rummaged around until she found it. The screen was black, but it was different than before. It flashed in time with the bleeping. The bleeping was strange too. It was continuous and droning now, getting louder by the second. It was freaking her out. She tried to switch it off, but it wouldn't stop. It got louder and shriller, until it was ear splitting. She was so focused on the phone that she didn't notice the shadow at the window. The glass shattered inwards.

Chapter Four. The Locals.

The window imploded and in it came. She wheeled around to face it, too late. It charged her to the ground, hard. She scrambled for the gun, but her arms were pinned. The thing prepared for the kill. It opened its glass lined jaws, and drew what should have been its head back. She gripped the gun and pulled it just clear of her own body. It hinged its upper body down at her, just as she pulled the trigger. The impact threw it off her body It screamed, a godless sound not unlike that of the still shrieking phone, and she glimpsed its body in the dying light.

It was vaguely human shaped, but there were…well, legs… where its arms should have been. Not really legs, because there were only brutal stumps where the feet should have been. Its skin was in patches, stretched thin and …pinned together in a half-assed patchwork. It writhed around on the floor to face her. She pulled the trigger again before she knew what she was doing. It only moaned this time, writhing slowly and finally. The beeping of her phone died down to a mournful whine. It reached towards her with its splintering stumps, and stole one more gasp. The phone was finally silent.

The light had faded almost completely. She found her torch and looked for a light switch. She wasn't entirely surprised when it didn't work. She aimed the pistol with the torch-like the movies huh?-to examine her attacker. It had no head, only long sets of jaws, lined with broken glass. It's…mouth, she supposed, cleaved past its shoulders, but it was hard to tell where it started exactly because of the thing's patchwork skin. She could find no eyes or recognisable features beyond that. Its absent feet were replaced with shrapnel, shards of glass and twisted strips of metal driven into the limbs until they started to split. It was awful. It must have driven itself crazy with pain with every step. There was a trail of watery black blood the whole way out the window. God Almighty. (Hasn't it dawned on you YET, little girl? GOD plays no part here.)

Well, she knew why there was nobody around. If they were still alive, running round with neighbours like this thing out was a bad idea. She knew this thing wasn't a one off. (Have you thought about HOW?) She picked up her cell phone off the floor. The phone had reacted to that thing. Would it warn her of anything else? She was very glad she hadn't left it in the car.

She wanted out of this fucked up town more than anything. She would even drive, though the thought of it made her feel sick. Her memory was coming back in chunks, but almost all of it related back to the accident. She had childhood memories, hazy as the always were, mundane everyday memories, she could remember what her apartment looked like. She could remember her natural hair colour, and what her face used to look like. But the accident…Everything else seemed to come back in puddles, but the accident came back in splintered shards. All her other memories were hazy, but they made basic sense. The accident was coming in broken pieces, out of order and disconnected from each other. She could remember the feel of the night-it was raining, remember that?-and she could remember seeing the bridge through the rain-just too late-but she remembered other things too. She remembered the pain of crawling out of the car, and the sirens, but she couldn't remember how she had freed herself of the glass, or how she had gotten help. She had probably passed out a few times, but she was still aware of absent pieces. She remembered the mud of the riverbank, and the relief of being safe, but she couldn't remember the hospital, or even the correct order of events. She remembered having muddy feet and sitting in the car at the same time. She even remembered things that she shouldn't. What the wreck had looked like, stuff like that. She remembered Todd-

-Pleading for help. He was screaming at her. The wall had pushed the engine block in on his legs. He was trapped. She couldn't work out what he was saying. He was pleading with her, she could tell, but the words themselves were just noise. She could feel the glass in her face, but she wasn't sure how deep it went. She couldn't stay here. She had to get out. She recognised her name, the only word she heard clearly. First things first. The glass. Todd started to shriek desperately.

Todd's screams were so vivid. So familiar to her. (RING! RING!) It had been what? (HELLO?) Six years since the crash? (Anybody HOME?) Still…it was as if it had happened today. She frowned. Just don't think about it. Not now. We have more pressing issues.

It was now completely dark. Shit. She had spent so long reliving bad times that light had run away from her. She got one of the tourist maps and went into the office behind the counter. It was eerie, like the Mary Celeste. The desk was just left as it was when…whatever had happened did. Papers were neatly stacked, pens held pages open. It was as if the owner could come back at any minute. She glanced around, and any fear she had for that happening evaporated. She suppressed the urge to vomit. A bloody silhouette was painted on the wall. It was almost comical, like one of those tracings little kids do around their hands. No body. Just a bloody outline one foot above the ground. It was like the guy had been pinned up and skinned or something. There were even some sort of pegs or nails driven into the wall. It was more precise than she expected of her glass handed friend lying in the other room. She wanted to gag. It was like some mad things version of a science project. Or art. Whatever had made it, it was gone now. She looked for something useful by torchlight. A door led out to the garage from here. She tried it, but it was firmly locked. It was a heavy door, to secure one building from the other. She couldn't break it down. She really didn't want to walk out into the pitch black street right now. At least indoors there was a limit to the number of places for things to hide. She ransacked the desk. She found a cheap hip bottle of whiskey. She might find a use for it yet. There was a little revolver in the drawer. She pocketed it and the little box of ammo that was with it. That reminded her to reload her own weapon. Just in case. The TV, lights even the calculator, were all dead. She swung the torch around to look for anything else of interest. A pang of sadness as she saw the guy's family photo. Nice house, nice kid, nice wife. The all American guy. A glint of metal caught her eye. Just the pegs in that lunatic artwork on the wall. Not pegs, or nails. Keys. Something had driven keys into the wall. The strength required was unimaginable. The keys would have been useless for actually suspending anything. There may have been a logic to it, but she couldn't grasp it. She fought the need to puke again and gingerly touched one of them. It wiggled. She freed it. It came out easily enough, bringing shreds of skin and tiny strips of muscle. She lost the battle with her stomach and vomited.

After a little trial and error she found the right key and made it to the garage. She brought the other keys. The garage was large, and the echoes freaked her out a little. Yeah, but you can hear anything that tries to sneak up on you. She had her phone to warn her of danger, assuming her theory really did check out. ("WE AIN'T AFRAID O' NO GHOSTS!" that's how it goes isn't it?) There were three cars. One was up on the pneumatic lift, and the other two were hire cars. They were the older type, the ones without the little keychain remote. She wasn't all that hopeful about their driving capability. Sure enough, neither car would start. The wires were dead so she couldn't jump them either. She had not held high hopes for this plan, but it was all she had.

She had no idea what to do next.

Chapter Five. The Other Side.

She sat in the dead car and sobbed. She had come to this place for safety, and found only a graveyard. (It's not the DEAD you should be afraid of.) She didn't know what else to do now. Think. You're a survivor. She was a survivor. She was still alive, despite the crash, despite 'ol glasshands out there and she was going to leave this place if she had to crawl out on her hands and knees. She had escaped hell by doing just that, once. She could do it again. She took out the map.

This place was marked, for the benefit of tourists in kinder times. It was at the end of the main street. She-

Her phone rang. She grabbed the gun and aimed it wildly. But it was just a normal, everyday phone call. Even the screen display was working, though she didn't recognise the name of the telecom company. She stared at the phone for another two rings. She pushed the button, and with a shaking hand, held it up to her ear. She waited for the caller to speak.

"Kim?" A familiar voice. Spike. She was so glad, tears crawled down her face.

"Spike. I thought you were gone." Relief was flooding over her. She couldn't think straight.

"I am. I am in Silent Hill." He sounded so normal.

"Yeah, so am I. I couldn't stay in the car any longer. I was so scared."

"Kim, where are you?"

"I'm in the car rental place. It's called Baum's Garage. It's at the end of Main Street. Where the hell are you?" (Interesting choice of words, little girl.)

"The old hospital. I need you to get here."

"What? Why are you-"

"Kim please. Let me out. Don't leave me." Alarm bells again. She had heard those words before. The car was getting claustrophobic.

"Kim! Please! Don't. Don't go. Please. DON'T GO! DON'T LEAVE ME IN HERE!" Blind panic now.

She was sobbing madly now. "Spike that's not funny. Stop! STOP IT!" But she knew it wasn't a joke.

"DON'T GO! I CAN'T GET OUT ON MY OWN! JESUS CHRIST…IT'S COMING! IT'S COLD KIM! I CAN FEEL IT! OH CHRIST! KIM PLEASE DON'T GO! DON'T LEAVE ME ALONE! HELP ME! OhmigodIthankyouforloving me. I'm sorryferallmisins-KIM! FerwhatI havedone and…PLEASE HELP ME! HOLY CHRIST! KIM!-" The phone died again. Right on cue. Spike sounded too different. It was not a prank. Spike would never do something like this in a million years. Besides, even he could not have heard this speech before, though she had heard it recently. Last time she heard it, it came with static and somebody laughing in the background. She understood why the voice on the first phone call disturbed her so much. It was Todd. It was the accident. All over again.

She couldn't leave him. She checked her map again. The old hospital was across town, but she couldn't just leave him like that. She suppressed the shakes with a swig of whiskey and checked her two guns. She would have to go on foot. She unlocked the little door at the front of the garage.

She reeled. Everything was different. She let the door slam behind her in shock. She was standing on rusted metal grating. Below it, was endless nothing, an abyss. Filthy clumps of decaying matter hung from the grates. There was a sound coming from down there, an awful, faraway sound, like metal being dragged across metal. The sky was lightless. A void above and below. The careworn buildings of the town were now decaying replicas of their former selves. She tried the door behind her, but it was locked. She had no choice. She ran for the hospital.

She was half way down the street when the phone began to bleep. A flying thing clawed at her from nowhere. She reeled away from it reflexively and fell back onto the ground. It too was vaguely human shaped, but its flesh was stretched until it became shiny. Its wings were frayed and bloody, and she could find no words to describe its head. She gathered her wits and shot it, and its watery blood rained down on her. She got to her feet and ran. Her phone still bleeped. She left the monster behind her in the dark, but she heard it flutter its hateful wings again.

As it happened, her phone rarely stopped bleeping. Those things were everywhere. For every one she shot, another appeared. She rounded another bend. She heard another dive for her. She ducked and pulled the trigger. Only an empty click. Shit. She must not have heard it empty. It recovered and wheeled around for her. Its claw caught her gun arm. She screamed and dropped the torch as well. It raised its other claw to finish her, and her hand found the revolver. The thing whipped away under the impact. She put the Sig back in her pocket and grabbed the torch. 5 rounds in the revolver. Her eyes desperately searched for somewhere to run to. The only untouched building on the street. The Church.

Chapter Six. And that has made all the Difference.

She charged the huge oak doors. They gave just a little. She turned and fired at her pursuer. 4 rounds. It screamed in an ecstasy of pain, and faltered in the air. She pushed at the door with her whole body, screaming at the pain in her legs and now her arm. The doors opened and she collapsed in.

The place was trashed, as though a giant had a tantrum. Pews were strewn about all over. Yet the floor was still solid marble instead of that hideous metal grating, though there were symbols she didn't recognise on it. Most things were intact. The stained glass display above the altar was complete. The structure itself had taken on none of the twisted industrial air of the rest of this accursed town. Though the door was open, the winged thing that had chased her would not follow her in. Perhaps this really was hallowed ground. Perhaps God did hold sway even here.

Every hair on the back of her neck stood on end at once. The phone made a dull buzz. "It's not HIM they're afraid of." A monstrous shape moved behind her. She didn't yet see it, but she felt the wave of distortion it caused just by being here. It was like a heat shimmer, but the building seemed to…ripple around it. Whatever was here had no place in this world. She was frozen to the spot, quaking. That thing was more terrible than anything she had ever encountered. She could feel it, down to her very bones. It strode into her field of vision, but by then, it was wearing a face. It looked like a person, but she still couldn't bear to look at it. She hadn't realised she was crying. It smiled past its make believe face. Now she would have given anything, paid any price to be anywhere else but here. She would have done anything to be sitting in that car with her face in the windshield, or back outside with those creatures. It watched her squirming in blind fear, and it grinned. She couldn't stand it. Being around it was torment in itself. It carried around unthinkable years of misery like a badge of honour, staining the very air around it. She had no doubt that this thing with the awful voice and the smiling face was the cause of whatever had happened this damned town. She could sense it. She would have begged, but she knew it would be of no use. If this thing intended on claiming her, heaven itself could not intervene. This town and its people, suffering so much, some of them suffering still, because of it.

"Don't pity them. They brought it on themselves. They believed that they could conjure Hell and hold it hostage. They committed sins beyond number because they sought power. And when they saw true power, they trembled. They were long damned." It grinned even wider. "But then, nobody here is innocent. Or else they wouldn't be here."

"Look at me, Little Girl." She sobbed harder. She couldn't bear the thought of seeing it, but the thought of incurring its wrath was too powerful. She turned slowly to face it, but it was too quick. It was beside her now; she felt its loathsome breath on her face. Its face was a few inches from her. It put its hand under her chin, like a lover, and its touch was hellish. Her memories…the crash, the phone calls, what she had seen in the phones screen, it all condensed and struck her at once. She could feel her old injuries open up again. Every one. Blood flowed into her eyes, but now she could feel exactly how deep every grain of glass was. Agony, guilt, terror, it was too much for her to withstand, a lifetimes pain condensed. But it was only a demonstration. Before she submitted to oblivion, of death or madness, it hauled her back from whatever peace she might have found. Her old wounds had vanished. "I can keep you alive as long as I desire. Those scavengers you met out there, are nothing to what will be here soon. As long as you remain in Silent Hill, you are mine to enjoy. And I never weary of it. There are many ways to skin a cat, as you might say. You will pray for death, but as long as you are here, your God will never answer you." She could think of nothing else but its hand on her face. Its touch still made every scar she carried scream. Begging would be no good, but she did it anyway. Between sobs. She pleaded. She pledged loyalty. She prayed to it. Anything. But it only grinned more. It enjoyed every second. "Sooner or later you will believe what these people forgot. You cannot bargain with me" And it was gone. Leaving her in its blasphemed church, to cry.

This god forsaken town was nothing to what it could have done. She felt that. She couldn't work out why it hadn't done worse. It wasn't mercy or anything. Her shattered memories were coming back in floods now, but it was so disordered. She emptied the whiskey bottle, but she still shook violently. After a while she reloaded her pistols. Her arm had been cut pretty deeply, but she had no way to treat it. Her knees ached still, but she would have to cope. This town was not yet Hell, but it was a fine second place. She put the revolver in her pocket and checked the map. She knew exactly where she had to go.

Chapter Seven. The Full Cycle.

The creatures were not yet bold enough to venture through the door. They could sense the residue that the thing had left from its presence. Her phone had ceased to buzz, and it did not beep. She ran out onto the street. It was different again. The ground was solid. The bloody, rusty metal was gone. Only dead empty buildings. The nearest to normal she had ever seen this town. It would even have been bright, except for the fog. She heard only the wind. Her phone rang. Still in her pocket, the connection came through. "PLEASE HELP ME! DON'T LEAVE ME ALONE! Please God. JESUS CHRIST! IT'S COMING! HELP ME! DON'T LEAVE ME KIM!" and then more of that loathsome, all too familiar screaming. She ignored it and ran on.

She turned another corner. She knew where she was going. She had-

She was trapped in the car by the glass. One of her knees was broken.

-to leave this place. She would do anything. Rain started to pound down.

Todd was screaming. Begging and pleading for help. His legs were trapped and-

Water. It was coming back up through the storm drains. The road was going to flood soon. She didn't care. She had to get out of this place, and she would-

- the car was sliding into the river. He had been trapped by the engine block when the car punched through the riverside wall. The water was coming up. She had to get out. She would-

-crawl out on her hands and knees if she had to. Spike or Todd or whoever the fuck it really was, just kept on screaming about being left behind. She pushed on, through the now ankle deep water. The rain was incredible. She was near the hospital now. She could hear the screaming coming from her phone and from the hospital at the same time. She hoped he could understand. She ran past the hospital, onto the road that led out of Silent Hill. She couldn't stay here a second longer.

She broke the glass with her hands. The pain was electric. She dragged her upper body out with her now ragged hands. Todd screamed at her not to leave him. It was his idea to wire the car in the first place. Now look what had fucking happened. The car slid further into the water. "ITS COLD! HELP ME KIM!" She couldn't. If she got into the car to try and free him, it would bring her into the river too. He started to say a prayer. She had to get away. The police would be here soon, and she had been drinking. She dragged herself away. Todd didn't stop screaming. She heard him from the distance. Even when the water would have been around his face, she could hear him desperately trying to breathe. The rain was terrific.

She ran and ran. Several times, and more often, the water rushed her feet out from under her, and she had to crawl. The mountain road was awash with muddy water too. It cascaded down the cliff side onto the road itself. The rain just kept hammering down. Spike or Todd begged her not to leave. But she had to go. She couldn't stay here. Had to go. She couldn't see the town anymore. Soon she would be safe.

She had been lucky. The rain had kept most people indoors. She crawled and limped her way across town. By the time she reached a safe doctor, her knee was in shards and the some of the glass had worked its way into her face. She was a mess. Todd was declared missing by his parents. They never did recover. Every year they put up fresh posters about him, begging for information. They probably still did. The river had been flooded so much that it must have dragged the car away. He was never found. She got away with it. She had survived.

She dragged herself through the water. She had to get out. She was a survivor. She had been in tough situations before. That's why she carried a gun. The water was knee deep. Walking was nearly impossible. Whoever was on the other end of the phone had started to splutter and struggle for air. She had to live. She had to leave him. He would understand. She would make it out.

A white police bike helmet floated by, this time smudged with blood. She recognised it from before. She looked up. The sign, that fucking bloody sign that she'd seen. She understood now.

"You are now entering Silent Hill!"

"You'll never leave!"

Whatever was using Todd's voice laughed down the phone at her.

"Not this time."

The End.

I'm very fond of this story. Please R&R. If you don't get the ending, E Mail me at the above address. Hope you enjoyed it.