Outside it was cold, and getting colder. The streetlamps in Silent Hill
were dim, and the road just seemed to lead off like a black stream, damp
from the unsettled snow.
Robyn had been walking for a while now, and still hadn't seen so much as a
glimmer of life, not even a lamp left on in a house. Perhaps there had been
a power-outage whilst everyone was asleep?
She'd already forgotten about her group amidst the strange silence this
town seemed to empower. Her head was still aching from the collision with a
washbasin back on the bus, and the evil voice from her unconscious still
echoed like a terrifying ricochet from the inside of her skull.
A building to Robyn's right caught her eye. It was a small information kiosk, with the shutters left unclosed, and the maps and info-packages left fluttering weakly in the nightly breeze. Robyn approached the kiosk, and picked up the map from the top of the pile. It was falling apart, moth-eaten and flimsy, stained with various substances. It wouldn't hurt to take one map, would it? After all, it looked like the kiosk hadn't been used in a while anyway, which was odd, because Silent Hill had always been a place, which brought in tourists like a moth to a flame. On that note, wouldn't there have been at least one person wandering the streets, even so late at night. Shouldn't there have been someone on his or her way home after a drunken binge? Robyn unfolded the map, and held it in her hands, looking for the nearest hotel, motel, or apartment building. She just needed somewhere to stay for the night. But, as soon as she unfolded the map, she noticed something, which stood out tremendously. Her brother's handwriting had been scrawled over the top of a small building, reading: 'Motel, good place to stay whilst visiting the other side of the lake' Luckily, the motel wasn't far away. But that didn't explain why James's handwriting was on this map. "Perhaps he's here," Robyn, said to herself through a pure sense of hope, "Maybe this is where James came... After all, I know Mary loved it here" She took one more glance at the map, and made her way toward the Motel for a good nights rest.
Robyn listened to the sound of her boots clumping on the road as she walked, straining her ears for any sound, which might indicate a sign of life. It was so strange how there wasn't even a stray cat or dog wandering the streets, or even so much as a bug flying through the air. But then, suddenly, as if Robyn's very thoughts had been snatched from her head, there was a noise nearby... a woman's voice. "Get off me, you bastard" the voice cried helplessly, "I told you I didn't need your help, now get off!" There was a sound of shuffling, and then at least two pairs of footsteps running away. Robyn couldn't help but want to follow, her heart yearned for some excitement, and, perhaps if she were lucky, some information. She started jogging toward the footsteps, onto the pavement, and down a small walkway, with high, grey, concrete walls either side with graffiti all over them.
The walkway became more and more narrow as Robyn ran faster, steamy pipes and drains were protruding from the walls, covered in rust and oily fluids. The grey concrete became grotesque, crimson bricks, covered in mud, and other various gunks. All the while, the footsteps could be heard ahead, and Robyn still felt as if she should follow, after all it was... "Oomph" Robyn yelped as she tripped over something, and fell face first into the gravel on the floor. She hoisted herself up, and turned to see what she had tripped on, "A wheelchair?" she said to herself, "and... Is it covered in... blood?" She clambered to her feet, and strained her ears. The footsteps were still running.
Robyn ran again, faster than she had done before, dodging the rusted pipes, drains, and dripping fluids like some misshapen obstacle course. Suddenly, the footsteps just stopped, and the sound of a heart beating began to echo down the thin alley. The walls started to close in on Robyn, making her feel trapped. She turned to run the other way, but, as if like magic, there was a brick wall there, covered in mud, and oil as if it had been there for years. Suddenly, Robyn couldn't move, the walls were crushing her, there was a searing pain, and then...
... Robyn awoke to the smell smoke, and opened her eyes to be bombarded by weak daylight, clouded by fog. There was someone standing over her... or something. It had no head, and its arms were sewn together, with blades protruding randomly from under its skin. Its arms were raised, and Robyn couldn't help but be filled with the sense that she was going to die.
IF YOU WOULD LIKE ME TO WRITE MORE, PLEASE E-MAIL ME AT KWOTTON87@HOTMAIL.COM, THANKYOU
A building to Robyn's right caught her eye. It was a small information kiosk, with the shutters left unclosed, and the maps and info-packages left fluttering weakly in the nightly breeze. Robyn approached the kiosk, and picked up the map from the top of the pile. It was falling apart, moth-eaten and flimsy, stained with various substances. It wouldn't hurt to take one map, would it? After all, it looked like the kiosk hadn't been used in a while anyway, which was odd, because Silent Hill had always been a place, which brought in tourists like a moth to a flame. On that note, wouldn't there have been at least one person wandering the streets, even so late at night. Shouldn't there have been someone on his or her way home after a drunken binge? Robyn unfolded the map, and held it in her hands, looking for the nearest hotel, motel, or apartment building. She just needed somewhere to stay for the night. But, as soon as she unfolded the map, she noticed something, which stood out tremendously. Her brother's handwriting had been scrawled over the top of a small building, reading: 'Motel, good place to stay whilst visiting the other side of the lake' Luckily, the motel wasn't far away. But that didn't explain why James's handwriting was on this map. "Perhaps he's here," Robyn, said to herself through a pure sense of hope, "Maybe this is where James came... After all, I know Mary loved it here" She took one more glance at the map, and made her way toward the Motel for a good nights rest.
Robyn listened to the sound of her boots clumping on the road as she walked, straining her ears for any sound, which might indicate a sign of life. It was so strange how there wasn't even a stray cat or dog wandering the streets, or even so much as a bug flying through the air. But then, suddenly, as if Robyn's very thoughts had been snatched from her head, there was a noise nearby... a woman's voice. "Get off me, you bastard" the voice cried helplessly, "I told you I didn't need your help, now get off!" There was a sound of shuffling, and then at least two pairs of footsteps running away. Robyn couldn't help but want to follow, her heart yearned for some excitement, and, perhaps if she were lucky, some information. She started jogging toward the footsteps, onto the pavement, and down a small walkway, with high, grey, concrete walls either side with graffiti all over them.
The walkway became more and more narrow as Robyn ran faster, steamy pipes and drains were protruding from the walls, covered in rust and oily fluids. The grey concrete became grotesque, crimson bricks, covered in mud, and other various gunks. All the while, the footsteps could be heard ahead, and Robyn still felt as if she should follow, after all it was... "Oomph" Robyn yelped as she tripped over something, and fell face first into the gravel on the floor. She hoisted herself up, and turned to see what she had tripped on, "A wheelchair?" she said to herself, "and... Is it covered in... blood?" She clambered to her feet, and strained her ears. The footsteps were still running.
Robyn ran again, faster than she had done before, dodging the rusted pipes, drains, and dripping fluids like some misshapen obstacle course. Suddenly, the footsteps just stopped, and the sound of a heart beating began to echo down the thin alley. The walls started to close in on Robyn, making her feel trapped. She turned to run the other way, but, as if like magic, there was a brick wall there, covered in mud, and oil as if it had been there for years. Suddenly, Robyn couldn't move, the walls were crushing her, there was a searing pain, and then...
... Robyn awoke to the smell smoke, and opened her eyes to be bombarded by weak daylight, clouded by fog. There was someone standing over her... or something. It had no head, and its arms were sewn together, with blades protruding randomly from under its skin. Its arms were raised, and Robyn couldn't help but be filled with the sense that she was going to die.
IF YOU WOULD LIKE ME TO WRITE MORE, PLEASE E-MAIL ME AT KWOTTON87@HOTMAIL.COM, THANKYOU