SiLEnt HiLL
Welcome to Purgatory.
The fog, the eerie, swirling mist. That was the first thought that went through Seth's mind as he forcefully pushed the car door open, crashing, creating a soft thud on the ground as he hit the concrete floor. The mist was thick and almost impenetrable, wrapping itself around Seth's body, almost as if to consume him completely, to drive his mind and soul deep into the Hell of this place, to devour at his worst fears. Seth groaned moderately loud, struggling to push himelf off the ground. He laid there on the cold street, rubbing his eyes a few times - one, two, three, then gazed at his hand as he pulled it away from his visage. Some blood stained his very hand; he reached for his forehead, fingering a small gash that was somewhat deep, dripping blood. Seth proceeded to push himself off the ground, despite having little strength left, and stood back up on his feet, wearily and groggily wobbling about. He eventually stopped, leaning against the car, rubbing his head and groaning again.
"What in the hell... What happened..." he whispered.
Seth removed his hand off his head slowly, then stared at the town he was in. No, not the town. All he could see was the mist and the car he was leaning on. Short, immediate memories flashed in Seth's mind as he gathered his thoughts as he stared deep into the fog. "What happened... that night... drunk..." he muttered under his panting breath, both in excitement and fear.
Memories of being drunk with three of his friends and his girlfriend in the very car he was leaning on flashed on and off, on and off - on and off in his mind continuously. Just what did happen? Drunk driving - crash, screams. Screams of agony and pain, of sorrow and fear. Ah, yes, he remembered now. It was not long ago when a friend of his, Carl, was driving under the influence of alcohol, with three other intoxicated passengers: Mark, Vince, Allison (his girlfriend), and Seth himself. Crash - burn, escape. Seth turned, crouching down and peering into the car, seeing if any of his friends were still alive. One remained, but he was dead. It was definite.
Seth brought his hand up to his mouth, quivering in fear in sight of Mark. Mark sat in the passenger seat; one could tell his hands clutched at the glove box and door handle, whether it be for support or when he was cringing in pain. But no, it was not that that was grotesque, it was not that that became the horrific image that would be embedded in Seth's mind forever. Seth fell back, back on the ground once more, then crawled away. The sight of what happened to Mark was insanely gruesome. The front window was broken - it was obvious something hit it, or the force of the impact during the car crash destroyed it. No, something hit it, as a steel pipe portruded out of Mark's chest, nearly missing his heart. The steel pipe pierced through Mark's ligaments in his left shoulder, disallowing movement of his left arm. The glass shards of the window mysteriously were not on the ground, nor on Mark's seat - but were pierced and slashed across Mark's face. Three large pieces of glass portruded out of his nose, right eye, and left cheek, with many scratches (varying from both deep and mild, long and short.)
Seth nearly vomited, his stomach churning. He reluctantly got back up on his feet, and inspected the car once more, avoiding the image of Mark completely. He noticed one door - closest to where Allison sat - was opened and nearly ripped off, some of it touching the street below. He looked towards the driver's seat - the window was rolled down. He saw something on the seat, and picked it up, still trying to avoid Mark's gruesome death. It was only a box of matches, with five matches left. It was obviously in use for Carl - he smoked and drank frequently, despite knowing after-effects. Seth, thinking this was a normal American town, took the matches, sliding them into his jeans pocket, thinking he would need them once night was upon him.
"This isn't right... Nobody's around... and -" Seth thought, quickly interrupted.
He heard a screeching noise, as if it were metal rubbing against concrete. Despite usually being the brave one of the group, Seth was incredibly terrified right now. The screeching grew louder and louder, until it was almost as if it were on him. Soon, it was. Seth stood shivering, goosebumps across his body, his back to the car once more. Seth nearly fainted when he saw the source of the screeching noise. He gave out a small yelp of fear, running behind the car for safety. He peeked out, inspecting the person - the thing before him. There stood a creature, outfitted in a butcher's apron, stained with blood. There was a trademark characteristic of this creature that made it stand out and easy to identify - a large, red pyramid shaped head. In fact, it was not a head - it was a covering, a helmet.
Seth peeked from behind the car, his eyes scanning the area. A shadowy figure with a human body, but pyramid head dragged a long, metal knife, which was causing the screeching sound. It was about fifteen feet away from Seth - it was too close for him. It crept closer, and closer. "What's going on here...?" he thought. Just then, the figure let out a raspy roar and swung the knife overhead, chopping the car in half, Seth froze in fear. The end of the knife stuck out from the middle of the car, narrowly missing him. The figure pulled the knife towards itself again, breathing heavily. Seth scrambled to Mark's side, then (while avoiding the sight) tried pulling the steel pipe out of Mark's chest. It came out with a squish, with blood stained at its end. It wasn't a very good weapon, but it was better than nothing. It was a relatively new pipe, three feet in length, which was good for Seth keeping his distance. However, it was only about an inch and a half in width, meaning Seth would have to grip it harder to make sure it would not fly out of his hands when swung.
Seth held his breath. One. Two. He counted the footsteps the person, the thing, took. It was deathly silent other than that. The creature let out another raspy roar, swinging the giant knife down once more, just missing Seth by several inches again, the car becoming a schism of three. Seth crawled away, the figure still following him. He could've ran, but Seth, for some reason, did not want to.
The figure could clearly see Seth now, cowering behind the car, holding a defensive position with a steel pipe. "Who are you?! What are you?!" Seth asked loudly, shaking the pipe, hoping to intimidate the thing before him. Silence. The person did not move. Suddenly, it let out a strange sounding wail, one of annoyance, and it started for Seth once more. "Answer me!" Seth cried.
Just then, Seth heard sirens wailing. No, they were not "normal" sirens. They were not the kind one would hear from a fire engine, police car, or any of the sort. The sirens sounded more like screams of pain, but remained similar to the everyday-heard ones. The large knife-wielding (butcher?) turned away, increasing his pace as he dragged the heavy weapon behind him, escaping from the battle. Soon, the sirens halted, and the screeching of metal on concrete had dissipated. Seth lowered his guard and wondered what in the hell he was doing here, and how to get out.
Seth immediately returned to his normal self, almost regaining his former consciousness. He wasn't as frightened as before, but he was still afraid nonetheless. He walked around a little bit, only to find himself more lost as he was enveloped in mist, almost seeming to trying to suffocate him. It was eerily quiet, with the fog rolling left and right, here and there.
Seth walked west down Nathan Avenue (however, he did not have a map on him.) He trudged on and on, always tense and ready for anything that might attempt to attack him. His breath was always abnormal. His eyes finally adjusted to the deep mist and fog, which did not allow much to be seen in the area. He easily passed by Lindsey Street, seeing as he was walking in the middle of the street, rather than off to the side. Though the town seemed silent and dead, he always thought he heard breathing. "Was it human or some sort of creature? Like that thing?" he would ask himself. He couldn't tell, but it was driving him insane with fear and paranoia. Occasionally, he heard and saw a hedgerow bustle, causing him to check anything suspicious to him. Then again, the entire town was suspicious.
Welcome to Purgatory.
The fog, the eerie, swirling mist. That was the first thought that went through Seth's mind as he forcefully pushed the car door open, crashing, creating a soft thud on the ground as he hit the concrete floor. The mist was thick and almost impenetrable, wrapping itself around Seth's body, almost as if to consume him completely, to drive his mind and soul deep into the Hell of this place, to devour at his worst fears. Seth groaned moderately loud, struggling to push himelf off the ground. He laid there on the cold street, rubbing his eyes a few times - one, two, three, then gazed at his hand as he pulled it away from his visage. Some blood stained his very hand; he reached for his forehead, fingering a small gash that was somewhat deep, dripping blood. Seth proceeded to push himself off the ground, despite having little strength left, and stood back up on his feet, wearily and groggily wobbling about. He eventually stopped, leaning against the car, rubbing his head and groaning again.
"What in the hell... What happened..." he whispered.
Seth removed his hand off his head slowly, then stared at the town he was in. No, not the town. All he could see was the mist and the car he was leaning on. Short, immediate memories flashed in Seth's mind as he gathered his thoughts as he stared deep into the fog. "What happened... that night... drunk..." he muttered under his panting breath, both in excitement and fear.
Memories of being drunk with three of his friends and his girlfriend in the very car he was leaning on flashed on and off, on and off - on and off in his mind continuously. Just what did happen? Drunk driving - crash, screams. Screams of agony and pain, of sorrow and fear. Ah, yes, he remembered now. It was not long ago when a friend of his, Carl, was driving under the influence of alcohol, with three other intoxicated passengers: Mark, Vince, Allison (his girlfriend), and Seth himself. Crash - burn, escape. Seth turned, crouching down and peering into the car, seeing if any of his friends were still alive. One remained, but he was dead. It was definite.
Seth brought his hand up to his mouth, quivering in fear in sight of Mark. Mark sat in the passenger seat; one could tell his hands clutched at the glove box and door handle, whether it be for support or when he was cringing in pain. But no, it was not that that was grotesque, it was not that that became the horrific image that would be embedded in Seth's mind forever. Seth fell back, back on the ground once more, then crawled away. The sight of what happened to Mark was insanely gruesome. The front window was broken - it was obvious something hit it, or the force of the impact during the car crash destroyed it. No, something hit it, as a steel pipe portruded out of Mark's chest, nearly missing his heart. The steel pipe pierced through Mark's ligaments in his left shoulder, disallowing movement of his left arm. The glass shards of the window mysteriously were not on the ground, nor on Mark's seat - but were pierced and slashed across Mark's face. Three large pieces of glass portruded out of his nose, right eye, and left cheek, with many scratches (varying from both deep and mild, long and short.)
Seth nearly vomited, his stomach churning. He reluctantly got back up on his feet, and inspected the car once more, avoiding the image of Mark completely. He noticed one door - closest to where Allison sat - was opened and nearly ripped off, some of it touching the street below. He looked towards the driver's seat - the window was rolled down. He saw something on the seat, and picked it up, still trying to avoid Mark's gruesome death. It was only a box of matches, with five matches left. It was obviously in use for Carl - he smoked and drank frequently, despite knowing after-effects. Seth, thinking this was a normal American town, took the matches, sliding them into his jeans pocket, thinking he would need them once night was upon him.
"This isn't right... Nobody's around... and -" Seth thought, quickly interrupted.
He heard a screeching noise, as if it were metal rubbing against concrete. Despite usually being the brave one of the group, Seth was incredibly terrified right now. The screeching grew louder and louder, until it was almost as if it were on him. Soon, it was. Seth stood shivering, goosebumps across his body, his back to the car once more. Seth nearly fainted when he saw the source of the screeching noise. He gave out a small yelp of fear, running behind the car for safety. He peeked out, inspecting the person - the thing before him. There stood a creature, outfitted in a butcher's apron, stained with blood. There was a trademark characteristic of this creature that made it stand out and easy to identify - a large, red pyramid shaped head. In fact, it was not a head - it was a covering, a helmet.
Seth peeked from behind the car, his eyes scanning the area. A shadowy figure with a human body, but pyramid head dragged a long, metal knife, which was causing the screeching sound. It was about fifteen feet away from Seth - it was too close for him. It crept closer, and closer. "What's going on here...?" he thought. Just then, the figure let out a raspy roar and swung the knife overhead, chopping the car in half, Seth froze in fear. The end of the knife stuck out from the middle of the car, narrowly missing him. The figure pulled the knife towards itself again, breathing heavily. Seth scrambled to Mark's side, then (while avoiding the sight) tried pulling the steel pipe out of Mark's chest. It came out with a squish, with blood stained at its end. It wasn't a very good weapon, but it was better than nothing. It was a relatively new pipe, three feet in length, which was good for Seth keeping his distance. However, it was only about an inch and a half in width, meaning Seth would have to grip it harder to make sure it would not fly out of his hands when swung.
Seth held his breath. One. Two. He counted the footsteps the person, the thing, took. It was deathly silent other than that. The creature let out another raspy roar, swinging the giant knife down once more, just missing Seth by several inches again, the car becoming a schism of three. Seth crawled away, the figure still following him. He could've ran, but Seth, for some reason, did not want to.
The figure could clearly see Seth now, cowering behind the car, holding a defensive position with a steel pipe. "Who are you?! What are you?!" Seth asked loudly, shaking the pipe, hoping to intimidate the thing before him. Silence. The person did not move. Suddenly, it let out a strange sounding wail, one of annoyance, and it started for Seth once more. "Answer me!" Seth cried.
Just then, Seth heard sirens wailing. No, they were not "normal" sirens. They were not the kind one would hear from a fire engine, police car, or any of the sort. The sirens sounded more like screams of pain, but remained similar to the everyday-heard ones. The large knife-wielding (butcher?) turned away, increasing his pace as he dragged the heavy weapon behind him, escaping from the battle. Soon, the sirens halted, and the screeching of metal on concrete had dissipated. Seth lowered his guard and wondered what in the hell he was doing here, and how to get out.
Seth immediately returned to his normal self, almost regaining his former consciousness. He wasn't as frightened as before, but he was still afraid nonetheless. He walked around a little bit, only to find himself more lost as he was enveloped in mist, almost seeming to trying to suffocate him. It was eerily quiet, with the fog rolling left and right, here and there.
Seth walked west down Nathan Avenue (however, he did not have a map on him.) He trudged on and on, always tense and ready for anything that might attempt to attack him. His breath was always abnormal. His eyes finally adjusted to the deep mist and fog, which did not allow much to be seen in the area. He easily passed by Lindsey Street, seeing as he was walking in the middle of the street, rather than off to the side. Though the town seemed silent and dead, he always thought he heard breathing. "Was it human or some sort of creature? Like that thing?" he would ask himself. He couldn't tell, but it was driving him insane with fear and paranoia. Occasionally, he heard and saw a hedgerow bustle, causing him to check anything suspicious to him. Then again, the entire town was suspicious.