-Chapter 2-
-The Silent Hill Historical Society-
Jacob allowed himself relaxed against the seat while the bus slowly made its journey to the Historical Society. Jacob had never really been too far outside from the House but knew it would be a considerable drive, giving him the opportunity to catch up on sleep. However, the droning of the diesel engine and the loud chatting of other students prevented him from respite. Resting his elbow against the tinted glass of the bus window, Jacob rested his chin on his open palm, following the moving landscape with his eyes.
"Are you excited, too Jacob?" said a voice from the seat in front of him. Jacob turned and found that Will Tanner had spoken to him.
"Sure, Will," Jacob said, smiling. "Anything to get me out of those boring classes."
Will Tanner was an acquaintance Jacob had made during his first few months at Hope House. Will was several years younger than Jacob and always managed to have a cheerful disposition. Will was not really an orphan, as his parents were important people within the religious group that ran Hope House. They saw the orphanage as a perfect opportunity to get their son into religious education and eventually become a priest like Father Alexander.
"Aw, those classes aren't too bad, really," said Will. "Maybe if you paid attention a bit more you'd enjoy it."
Jacob shrugged.
"Well anyway," Will continued, "today's trip should be great fun. I have heard of the Historical Society many times but never had the opportunity to visit. Not only that, but we get to go to Rosewater! Have you been there?"
"No, I haven't," Jacob said. "But I have heard fun things about it."
"Look at how beautiful this day is! Perfect weather for Rosewater! We should really be thankful to Her for blessing us with this day." At that point, Will bowed his head and closed his eyes while his lips moved silently in prayer. Jacob watched the younger child pray; his hands folded neatly against each other, his brow furrowed in concentration.
"Amen," Will spoke and smiled at Jacob, who responded with an "Amen" of his own. Will glanced out the window and looked at a passing street sign. Will's blue eyes beamed.
"Nathan Avenue!" Will exclaimed. "We are almost there!" Will quickly spun around and sat back down in his seat. Although Jacob couldn't see him, he would bet that Will was bouncing up and down in his seat from excitement.
Several minutes later, the bus slowly made its way into South Vale, an area of Silent Hill that was home to several apartments, the Brookhaven Hospital, a bowling alley and other small businesses. Of particular interest are Rosewater Park, the Silent Hill Historical Society and Toluca Lake. Glancing out the window, Jacob could clearly see the lake populated with a generous amount of people. Being the springtime, families and tourists would flock to the lake for water sports or picnics. The boat launch bustled with people lowering their speedboats, kayaks and rowboats into the clear water. Jacob couldn't help but smirk as he saw someone tip over in their kayak. As the bus passed by Rosewater Park, Jacob noticed a billboard advertising the Historical Society. Sitting himself upright, he felt the speed of the bus lessen as the building quickly came into view.
Jacob had been one of the last group of students off the bus. Placing his hands in his pockets, he waited to be escorted with his class into the Historical Society. Taking in his surroundings, Jacob watched as mothers and fathers were playing with their children in the area near another boat launch. Looking at the entrance of the Historical Society, he watched as another class exited the building from their tour session. Jacob waved at a smiling Jessica. In all honestly, he couldn't care less about the town's history. He couldn't wait to meet up with Jessica at the park. A loud clapping sound brought Jacob to attention as Father Alexander began to speak.
"Again, I hope I don't have to remind you all to be on your best behavior," the priest spoke. "Please keep your hands to yourself and listen to what you guide has to say. Enjoy yourselves and please feel free to ask any questions you may have."
With that, an older man with a heavyset figure walked out of the Historical Society, a thick beard covering his smiling face.
"Welcome," said the man, his face beaming. "Welcome to the Silent Hill Historical Society! Inside this quaint building you will discover the history of our glorious and beautiful town. Follow close and, by all means, shout out if you have any questions!"
Holding the entrance door open, the students filed inside the building with Jacob being the last one inside. He glanced to his left and met the eyes of an older woman who was sitting behind a glass counter filled with Historical Society-related gifts and souvenirs. Jacob looked to his right and saw Will staring intently at the heavyset tour guide, intent on capturing his every word. Jacob let himself laugh at the sight as he waited for the tour to begin.
"Now as you may or may not know, Silent Hill was once home to Native Americans many years ago. To them, the area was called the 'Land of Silent Spirits' and was said to carry a sort of mysticism..."
Jacob stopped listening to the guide and decided to look at the museum at his own pace. The Historical Society wasn't a big building, more like the size of a two-room condominium. Each wall had a specific theme. The wall adjacent to the entrance featured a native American design, with artifacts safely protected behind glass cases and wall mounted cabinets. The wall next to the Native American display was held Union and Confederate uniforms, weaponry and other Civil War related objects. Paintings also scattered the wall, depicting particular battles that were fought in Silent Hill. From the history lessons at Hope House, Jacob remembered that no real important battles were ever fought in this area. Jacob glanced at several more wall designs, taking an extra long glance at the World War II theme, examining several letters written by soldiers who fought in Europe and the Pacific.
Stepping into the next room, he heard the guide talking about the room housing collections from Silent Hill's more modern history, from the Civil Rights Movement to present day. Starting to feel bored with himself, wishing the tour would be over so that he could spend the rest of the afternoon with Jessica, Jacob absentmindedly glanced at the paintings and photographs adorning the walls. Jacob studied various photographs of public figures and particular buildings. Just about ready to head towards the main room, a painting had caught his eye. The title of the painting, as written on a small metal plate, was "Misty Day, Remains of the Judgement." At first glance, it was a rather ghastly painting depicting several rectangle shaped cages that held lifeless bodies. What caused Jacob's eyes to widen was the figure on the right side of the painting. Standing in an almost proud fashion, was a tall figure wearing a bloody butcher's apron and holding a large pike in its gloved left hand. What caused Jacob to tremble was the large, red pyramid shaped helmet that covered the figure's head. The tour guide walked up beside Jacob and placed a hand on his shoulder.
"Well, my boy, looks like you found this little gem," the man said as he admired the painting. "We are not entirely sure how this painting came to be exactly. Some speculate that it ties into the story of an old prison around here used during the Civil War. The looming figure there is said to be some sort of executioner and—are you okay, lad?"
Jacob could only stare at the figure. It was the same figure that had chased him in his nightmares. His hair began to grow damp from sweat, his breathing deep and quick. Suddenly, a familiar sound began to fill Jacob's ear, a soft wailing sound rising and falling in pitch. The siren grew louder and louder, causing Jacob's skull to vibrate. Jacob fell backwards, smashing a glass table behind him with his elbow, sending glass shards everywhere as he fell on the floor. He could see people start to huddle around him including the guide, the woman at the counter, Will and Father Alexander. As the wailing siren grew louder in Jacob's ears, he began to scream, his vision blurred by the tears pouring out of his eyes. He felt himself thrashing as he cried out in pain, his head feeling as if placed within an ever tightening vice. The wailing increased in volume and ultimately became too much for Jacob to bear. With one last fit of terrible screaming, Jacob's vision faded to black as he lost consciousness.
Jacob's eyes fluttered open. He lifted his head and found himself lying face down on the floor of the Historical Society. Jacob winced as he slowly got up to his feet. Rubbing his temples, Jacob looked about his surroundings, feeling a sense of confusion wash over him. He remembered passing out on the floor of the Historical Society with his classmates and tour guide hovering over him. However, the building appeared to be different. For one thing, he was the only one there. Glancing around, the Historical Society was in a state of extreme dilapidation. Paintings lay on the floor; the walls were dirty and spotted with dark patches Jacob did not wish to examine. In some areas, the wallpaper had been stripped. All of the glass counters and cabinets were broken; the sound of crunching glass broke the silence as Jacob walked about. The building was relatively dark; the only source of light was a small desk lamp on the chair the older woman had been sitting in before Jacob passed out. Examining the area around the counter, Jacob found a small flashlight and a map of South Vale in the broken display case. Taking the object in his hands, he pressed the small, circular button. With a faint click, a beam of light appeared from the lens of the flashlight. Finding nowhere else to go within the small museum, Jacob found the front door of the Historical Society. Turning the knob slowly, he opened the door, expecting to find his classmates. Instead, Jacob was met with a world of darkness. Instead of the bright and sunny spring day he experienced when he first arrived at the museum, the area in front of the building was pitch black. Much like inside the building, the only light source came from a small streetlight that stood a few feet from the Historical Society. Turning on his small flashlight, Jacob scanned the area around him. He began to walk a little as he guided the small beam of light in front of him. What unnerved Jacob the most was that the beam of light appeared to go on forever into the darkened abyss. Turning to his left, his flashlight centered on a yellow object. As he moved closer to the object, he soon discovered that it was the Hope House bus. The condition of the bus was not how he remembered it. The exterior of the vehicle was rusted and pitted, the wheels appeared to be violently slashed, with one rubber wheel apparently ripped off. All of the windows were shattered, with glass littering the area outside the bus, making it seem as it the windows were blown out from the inside. The condition of the bus and the darkened environment about him made Jacob wonder how long he had been unconscious. Why was he still at the Historical Society? Why didn't his classmates take him back to Hope House? Where were his classmates? Jacob turned around and faced the Historical Society, once again aiming his flashlight in every which way. Not knowing what exactly he should do, Jacob unfolded the map he picked up from the display case. If he read the map correctly, Rosewater Park was not too far along Nathan Avenue. It would be quite a walk, but Jacob had hoped he could find someone there who could take him back to Hope House. Jacob stepped out onto the street and began to walk, aiming the flashlight at his feet sporadically to make sure he was still walking on concrete, fearing as if he would walk off the edge of this dark world. Several times, Jacob lit the area around his feet to inspect the concrete only to find rusted steel grating. This sight bothered Jacob, even more so after he blinked and saw that the street had returned to normal.
-The Silent Hill Historical Society-
Jacob allowed himself relaxed against the seat while the bus slowly made its journey to the Historical Society. Jacob had never really been too far outside from the House but knew it would be a considerable drive, giving him the opportunity to catch up on sleep. However, the droning of the diesel engine and the loud chatting of other students prevented him from respite. Resting his elbow against the tinted glass of the bus window, Jacob rested his chin on his open palm, following the moving landscape with his eyes.
"Are you excited, too Jacob?" said a voice from the seat in front of him. Jacob turned and found that Will Tanner had spoken to him.
"Sure, Will," Jacob said, smiling. "Anything to get me out of those boring classes."
Will Tanner was an acquaintance Jacob had made during his first few months at Hope House. Will was several years younger than Jacob and always managed to have a cheerful disposition. Will was not really an orphan, as his parents were important people within the religious group that ran Hope House. They saw the orphanage as a perfect opportunity to get their son into religious education and eventually become a priest like Father Alexander.
"Aw, those classes aren't too bad, really," said Will. "Maybe if you paid attention a bit more you'd enjoy it."
Jacob shrugged.
"Well anyway," Will continued, "today's trip should be great fun. I have heard of the Historical Society many times but never had the opportunity to visit. Not only that, but we get to go to Rosewater! Have you been there?"
"No, I haven't," Jacob said. "But I have heard fun things about it."
"Look at how beautiful this day is! Perfect weather for Rosewater! We should really be thankful to Her for blessing us with this day." At that point, Will bowed his head and closed his eyes while his lips moved silently in prayer. Jacob watched the younger child pray; his hands folded neatly against each other, his brow furrowed in concentration.
"Amen," Will spoke and smiled at Jacob, who responded with an "Amen" of his own. Will glanced out the window and looked at a passing street sign. Will's blue eyes beamed.
"Nathan Avenue!" Will exclaimed. "We are almost there!" Will quickly spun around and sat back down in his seat. Although Jacob couldn't see him, he would bet that Will was bouncing up and down in his seat from excitement.
Several minutes later, the bus slowly made its way into South Vale, an area of Silent Hill that was home to several apartments, the Brookhaven Hospital, a bowling alley and other small businesses. Of particular interest are Rosewater Park, the Silent Hill Historical Society and Toluca Lake. Glancing out the window, Jacob could clearly see the lake populated with a generous amount of people. Being the springtime, families and tourists would flock to the lake for water sports or picnics. The boat launch bustled with people lowering their speedboats, kayaks and rowboats into the clear water. Jacob couldn't help but smirk as he saw someone tip over in their kayak. As the bus passed by Rosewater Park, Jacob noticed a billboard advertising the Historical Society. Sitting himself upright, he felt the speed of the bus lessen as the building quickly came into view.
Jacob had been one of the last group of students off the bus. Placing his hands in his pockets, he waited to be escorted with his class into the Historical Society. Taking in his surroundings, Jacob watched as mothers and fathers were playing with their children in the area near another boat launch. Looking at the entrance of the Historical Society, he watched as another class exited the building from their tour session. Jacob waved at a smiling Jessica. In all honestly, he couldn't care less about the town's history. He couldn't wait to meet up with Jessica at the park. A loud clapping sound brought Jacob to attention as Father Alexander began to speak.
"Again, I hope I don't have to remind you all to be on your best behavior," the priest spoke. "Please keep your hands to yourself and listen to what you guide has to say. Enjoy yourselves and please feel free to ask any questions you may have."
With that, an older man with a heavyset figure walked out of the Historical Society, a thick beard covering his smiling face.
"Welcome," said the man, his face beaming. "Welcome to the Silent Hill Historical Society! Inside this quaint building you will discover the history of our glorious and beautiful town. Follow close and, by all means, shout out if you have any questions!"
Holding the entrance door open, the students filed inside the building with Jacob being the last one inside. He glanced to his left and met the eyes of an older woman who was sitting behind a glass counter filled with Historical Society-related gifts and souvenirs. Jacob looked to his right and saw Will staring intently at the heavyset tour guide, intent on capturing his every word. Jacob let himself laugh at the sight as he waited for the tour to begin.
"Now as you may or may not know, Silent Hill was once home to Native Americans many years ago. To them, the area was called the 'Land of Silent Spirits' and was said to carry a sort of mysticism..."
Jacob stopped listening to the guide and decided to look at the museum at his own pace. The Historical Society wasn't a big building, more like the size of a two-room condominium. Each wall had a specific theme. The wall adjacent to the entrance featured a native American design, with artifacts safely protected behind glass cases and wall mounted cabinets. The wall next to the Native American display was held Union and Confederate uniforms, weaponry and other Civil War related objects. Paintings also scattered the wall, depicting particular battles that were fought in Silent Hill. From the history lessons at Hope House, Jacob remembered that no real important battles were ever fought in this area. Jacob glanced at several more wall designs, taking an extra long glance at the World War II theme, examining several letters written by soldiers who fought in Europe and the Pacific.
Stepping into the next room, he heard the guide talking about the room housing collections from Silent Hill's more modern history, from the Civil Rights Movement to present day. Starting to feel bored with himself, wishing the tour would be over so that he could spend the rest of the afternoon with Jessica, Jacob absentmindedly glanced at the paintings and photographs adorning the walls. Jacob studied various photographs of public figures and particular buildings. Just about ready to head towards the main room, a painting had caught his eye. The title of the painting, as written on a small metal plate, was "Misty Day, Remains of the Judgement." At first glance, it was a rather ghastly painting depicting several rectangle shaped cages that held lifeless bodies. What caused Jacob's eyes to widen was the figure on the right side of the painting. Standing in an almost proud fashion, was a tall figure wearing a bloody butcher's apron and holding a large pike in its gloved left hand. What caused Jacob to tremble was the large, red pyramid shaped helmet that covered the figure's head. The tour guide walked up beside Jacob and placed a hand on his shoulder.
"Well, my boy, looks like you found this little gem," the man said as he admired the painting. "We are not entirely sure how this painting came to be exactly. Some speculate that it ties into the story of an old prison around here used during the Civil War. The looming figure there is said to be some sort of executioner and—are you okay, lad?"
Jacob could only stare at the figure. It was the same figure that had chased him in his nightmares. His hair began to grow damp from sweat, his breathing deep and quick. Suddenly, a familiar sound began to fill Jacob's ear, a soft wailing sound rising and falling in pitch. The siren grew louder and louder, causing Jacob's skull to vibrate. Jacob fell backwards, smashing a glass table behind him with his elbow, sending glass shards everywhere as he fell on the floor. He could see people start to huddle around him including the guide, the woman at the counter, Will and Father Alexander. As the wailing siren grew louder in Jacob's ears, he began to scream, his vision blurred by the tears pouring out of his eyes. He felt himself thrashing as he cried out in pain, his head feeling as if placed within an ever tightening vice. The wailing increased in volume and ultimately became too much for Jacob to bear. With one last fit of terrible screaming, Jacob's vision faded to black as he lost consciousness.
Jacob's eyes fluttered open. He lifted his head and found himself lying face down on the floor of the Historical Society. Jacob winced as he slowly got up to his feet. Rubbing his temples, Jacob looked about his surroundings, feeling a sense of confusion wash over him. He remembered passing out on the floor of the Historical Society with his classmates and tour guide hovering over him. However, the building appeared to be different. For one thing, he was the only one there. Glancing around, the Historical Society was in a state of extreme dilapidation. Paintings lay on the floor; the walls were dirty and spotted with dark patches Jacob did not wish to examine. In some areas, the wallpaper had been stripped. All of the glass counters and cabinets were broken; the sound of crunching glass broke the silence as Jacob walked about. The building was relatively dark; the only source of light was a small desk lamp on the chair the older woman had been sitting in before Jacob passed out. Examining the area around the counter, Jacob found a small flashlight and a map of South Vale in the broken display case. Taking the object in his hands, he pressed the small, circular button. With a faint click, a beam of light appeared from the lens of the flashlight. Finding nowhere else to go within the small museum, Jacob found the front door of the Historical Society. Turning the knob slowly, he opened the door, expecting to find his classmates. Instead, Jacob was met with a world of darkness. Instead of the bright and sunny spring day he experienced when he first arrived at the museum, the area in front of the building was pitch black. Much like inside the building, the only light source came from a small streetlight that stood a few feet from the Historical Society. Turning on his small flashlight, Jacob scanned the area around him. He began to walk a little as he guided the small beam of light in front of him. What unnerved Jacob the most was that the beam of light appeared to go on forever into the darkened abyss. Turning to his left, his flashlight centered on a yellow object. As he moved closer to the object, he soon discovered that it was the Hope House bus. The condition of the bus was not how he remembered it. The exterior of the vehicle was rusted and pitted, the wheels appeared to be violently slashed, with one rubber wheel apparently ripped off. All of the windows were shattered, with glass littering the area outside the bus, making it seem as it the windows were blown out from the inside. The condition of the bus and the darkened environment about him made Jacob wonder how long he had been unconscious. Why was he still at the Historical Society? Why didn't his classmates take him back to Hope House? Where were his classmates? Jacob turned around and faced the Historical Society, once again aiming his flashlight in every which way. Not knowing what exactly he should do, Jacob unfolded the map he picked up from the display case. If he read the map correctly, Rosewater Park was not too far along Nathan Avenue. It would be quite a walk, but Jacob had hoped he could find someone there who could take him back to Hope House. Jacob stepped out onto the street and began to walk, aiming the flashlight at his feet sporadically to make sure he was still walking on concrete, fearing as if he would walk off the edge of this dark world. Several times, Jacob lit the area around his feet to inspect the concrete only to find rusted steel grating. This sight bothered Jacob, even more so after he blinked and saw that the street had returned to normal.