SILENT HILL-Jacob's Ladder
As Noah climbed higher and higher, feeling no shakiness at all in the ladder even though nothing held it in place he saw
that the ground was no longer visible. God, he hurt. His jaw felt swollen and uhinged, his ankle still bleeding badly.
His side ached and the cuts on his fingers opened more with every rung of the ladder he ascended. He may have gone insane,
and it didn't really matter now anyways. Sanity seeemed irrelevant here, all that mattered was knowing one's self and
being unafraid of things that appeared almost suicidal at times. Noah climbed higher and higher, the pickax slapping against
his butt as the arched blade hung from his belt. He'd made good and sure it was secure before he'd started up the ladder,
for God only knew what was coming next. As he climbed, Noah observed the disturbing space around him as it shifted and
changed. The ladder was slowly morphing itself into chain link, blood dripping from the sides and making the rungs
just slippery enough so that losing his grip became an issue. Noah heard a dull crunch, stopping for a second and
looking down. Far below, the beginnings of the ladder had rolled up onto itself. Noah let himself rest, feeling so worn
that he was certain he'd fall off if he didn't reach the top soon. Another crunch showed Noah he didn't have the time to
be resting, as the ladder rolled up on itself another foot or so. And then again. He resumed the climb, moving faster
as the crunches came more frequently and closer together. Soon the ladder was practically chasing him, rolling up
continuously like a steamroller meaning to flatten him. He was already going as fast as he possibly could, but
the ladder was still coming faster. He was losing the race, scaling the ladder and searching the sky above him for some
kind of escape. At last he saw it, up ahead the ladder curved to a stop. He reached it as the rolled up metal of the ladder
grazed his feet, the metal forming grisly spikes around it's exterior as Noah flipped himself over the top. "Yahhhh!" he shouted,
his heart skipping a beat as the spiked wheel of doom rolled up to the very top of the ladder and came to a halt.
Noah stood tiredly, watching the wheel closely to make sure it wasn't going to move anymore. He now stood on a small squarish
platform that, like the ladder had no support at all and simply hung securely in midair. "What is this now.." Noah groaned,
as he regarded a tall and almost comical stuffed bunny holding a long pipe. It leaned on it as if it were Babe Ruth prouldy watching a
home run soar, and blood that looked fresh surrounded it's mouth. There was much more blood dried down the front of it,
and though Noah was fairly sure it wasn't alive it's eyes seemed to watch him with the piercing gaze of an old porcelin doll.
In front of the rabbit there was a small box, remeniscant of a drive thru restaurant. A sign beside the box had 'PLACE YOUR ORDER'
scrawled in what Noah by now just assumed was probably blood. "HA! This is ridiculous!" Noah laughed out loud, stepping up to
the box to inspect it. It really was an intercom for taking drive thru orders, absolutely priceless. "I say, so what's the menu today Robbie?"
Noah joked, laughing again at the big rabbit having such a name sewn right onto it's cartoonish overalls. No sooner had he said it,
then Noah saw a hatch open from the top of the intercom box. A cardboard menu popped out on a spring, framed by thin metal.
Noah put a hand to his head, subduing his laughter as he realized this must be another puzzle of some sort. As he leaned forward and
examined the menu, a voice suddenly crackled from his radio. "Welcome to Robbie-kun's, huu huck! Please choose from today's fine selections!"
The bunny suddenly spoke. Noah almost fell over in disbelief. It was ludicrous to even think about, things like this just weren't ever supossed to happen.
Physics alone suggested...Noah shook his head, nodding acceptingly as he viewed the menu. It was seperated into three rectangular sections lined together.
The one on the right held a picture of Estelle, alarmingly detailed to the point where Noah expected her to turn to him and tilt her head in that
cute way she always did when she looked at him. Underneath her likeness was stenciling which read 'SEEING-EYE DOG-Our famous grilled
weiner with your choice of toppings and a small side of cole slaw- 75.' Noah saw that weiner was crossed out with black marker, replaced
in chicken scratch penmaship with 'winner'. Noah made a face, still unable to get his mind around the unabashed dark humor that seemed
to plague everything he encountered in this town. He didn't like the insulting pun aimed at Estelle, either.
The next section displayed a picture of his long lost friend James Sunderland, again with painstaking and unsettling detail.
The stenciling under his depiction read 'OVERSEXED PIG IN A BLANKET- A deliciously cooked keilbasa sausage bled slowly and rolled up in homemade
sourdough chocked full of spices with your choice of side salad or curly fries-75.' Noah's jaw hung open, as he read it through again. Some twisted
individual seemed to have taken the same black marker and scratched out 'C' in spices, replacing it with a K. "Chocked full of of..Spikes?" Noah
said cluelessly, realizing what that would actually mean. Was James already dead? The last section of the menu, not surprisingly was his own
portrait. An old one that no one could have posibly gotten their hands on, especially no one in a town he'd never been to before.
It was from his 6th birthday, when his father had taken him to the fair. His mother had been too sick to join them, leukemia had been ebbing
the last of her life away by that time. His father had tried to be happy for him that day, taking him on rides and winning the archery contest for him.
But Noah had known even at such a young age that his father was terribly saddened by the imminent death of his wife. The doctors were powerless
to help her, and a week after that day at the fair she had died. In the picture Noah was smiling wide, his pearly white teeth shining as he
sat atop his father's shoudlers. Aside from the hand holding his own, Noah remembered that his father had been completely cut out of that picture.
Shortly after that, Noah's father had been mugged and shot outside a bakery down the street from where they'd lived.
Where was that again? Noah had trouble remembering, as his mind could only recall the horror he'd felt. Seven years old, on his birthday once again
when his father had gotten drunk the night before and forgotten to pick up the cake. Noah had told him that it was alright and that he only wanted to
be with his father and share his birthday with him, but his father always trying to make up for the loss of Noah's mother had gone to fetch the cake.
Noah never saw him again, until the police came to the house, stupid men in blue clothing and shiny badges trying to hide the fact that his father had
been killed. Noah dropped to his knees, his hands covering his face as he started crying again. "Why are you doing this to me!" He shouted out loud,
looking up at the bloody rabbit who seemed to tower over him like a judge. Noah's head went all cotton for a moment, he was losing too much blood.
Yes real matters, he thought. Tend to your wounds before you're too lightlheaded to keep your wits about you. He'd never solve whatever sick riddle
this scene posed if he couldn't think straight. He had left home in a hurry, throwing a simple red collar shirt over his white T-shirt. His black jeans
were stained red by all the blood from his ankle and side, as were his black loafers. The thin black windbreaker he'd grabbed at the last second
was just plain dirty, torn in several places from his escape out the window of the spooky car. He was glad he had it now, as the town held a
disturbing chill to it's air even in the wamest of seasons. He took it off, withdrawing the semi-sharp pocket knife from his jeans.
Taking off his shirt, he cut swatches from it, creating just enough lengths of fabric to tightly bind his ankle and side. Noah felt his jaw tenderly,
hearing a dull click as his hand moved it to the right. As he'd thought, it was dislocated. Noah bore the pain as he felt along the side of his face,
feeling along the bone. Taking in a deep breath, he closed his eyes and quickly drove his knuckles against the faulty jaw. He howled in pain,
falling over into a fetal position as the pain threathened to knock him out cold. It hurt so badly, all over his body he hurt so much. He just wanted
to sleep. The old trick a prison inmate had shown him worked well enough, setting his jaw right again despite that it hurt more now than it had before.
"Owwwwww..." Noah sobbed, resting for a bit as he felt the town of Silent HIll swallowing him up piece by piece.
As Noah climbed higher and higher, feeling no shakiness at all in the ladder even though nothing held it in place he saw
that the ground was no longer visible. God, he hurt. His jaw felt swollen and uhinged, his ankle still bleeding badly.
His side ached and the cuts on his fingers opened more with every rung of the ladder he ascended. He may have gone insane,
and it didn't really matter now anyways. Sanity seeemed irrelevant here, all that mattered was knowing one's self and
being unafraid of things that appeared almost suicidal at times. Noah climbed higher and higher, the pickax slapping against
his butt as the arched blade hung from his belt. He'd made good and sure it was secure before he'd started up the ladder,
for God only knew what was coming next. As he climbed, Noah observed the disturbing space around him as it shifted and
changed. The ladder was slowly morphing itself into chain link, blood dripping from the sides and making the rungs
just slippery enough so that losing his grip became an issue. Noah heard a dull crunch, stopping for a second and
looking down. Far below, the beginnings of the ladder had rolled up onto itself. Noah let himself rest, feeling so worn
that he was certain he'd fall off if he didn't reach the top soon. Another crunch showed Noah he didn't have the time to
be resting, as the ladder rolled up on itself another foot or so. And then again. He resumed the climb, moving faster
as the crunches came more frequently and closer together. Soon the ladder was practically chasing him, rolling up
continuously like a steamroller meaning to flatten him. He was already going as fast as he possibly could, but
the ladder was still coming faster. He was losing the race, scaling the ladder and searching the sky above him for some
kind of escape. At last he saw it, up ahead the ladder curved to a stop. He reached it as the rolled up metal of the ladder
grazed his feet, the metal forming grisly spikes around it's exterior as Noah flipped himself over the top. "Yahhhh!" he shouted,
his heart skipping a beat as the spiked wheel of doom rolled up to the very top of the ladder and came to a halt.
Noah stood tiredly, watching the wheel closely to make sure it wasn't going to move anymore. He now stood on a small squarish
platform that, like the ladder had no support at all and simply hung securely in midair. "What is this now.." Noah groaned,
as he regarded a tall and almost comical stuffed bunny holding a long pipe. It leaned on it as if it were Babe Ruth prouldy watching a
home run soar, and blood that looked fresh surrounded it's mouth. There was much more blood dried down the front of it,
and though Noah was fairly sure it wasn't alive it's eyes seemed to watch him with the piercing gaze of an old porcelin doll.
In front of the rabbit there was a small box, remeniscant of a drive thru restaurant. A sign beside the box had 'PLACE YOUR ORDER'
scrawled in what Noah by now just assumed was probably blood. "HA! This is ridiculous!" Noah laughed out loud, stepping up to
the box to inspect it. It really was an intercom for taking drive thru orders, absolutely priceless. "I say, so what's the menu today Robbie?"
Noah joked, laughing again at the big rabbit having such a name sewn right onto it's cartoonish overalls. No sooner had he said it,
then Noah saw a hatch open from the top of the intercom box. A cardboard menu popped out on a spring, framed by thin metal.
Noah put a hand to his head, subduing his laughter as he realized this must be another puzzle of some sort. As he leaned forward and
examined the menu, a voice suddenly crackled from his radio. "Welcome to Robbie-kun's, huu huck! Please choose from today's fine selections!"
The bunny suddenly spoke. Noah almost fell over in disbelief. It was ludicrous to even think about, things like this just weren't ever supossed to happen.
Physics alone suggested...Noah shook his head, nodding acceptingly as he viewed the menu. It was seperated into three rectangular sections lined together.
The one on the right held a picture of Estelle, alarmingly detailed to the point where Noah expected her to turn to him and tilt her head in that
cute way she always did when she looked at him. Underneath her likeness was stenciling which read 'SEEING-EYE DOG-Our famous grilled
weiner with your choice of toppings and a small side of cole slaw- 75.' Noah saw that weiner was crossed out with black marker, replaced
in chicken scratch penmaship with 'winner'. Noah made a face, still unable to get his mind around the unabashed dark humor that seemed
to plague everything he encountered in this town. He didn't like the insulting pun aimed at Estelle, either.
The next section displayed a picture of his long lost friend James Sunderland, again with painstaking and unsettling detail.
The stenciling under his depiction read 'OVERSEXED PIG IN A BLANKET- A deliciously cooked keilbasa sausage bled slowly and rolled up in homemade
sourdough chocked full of spices with your choice of side salad or curly fries-75.' Noah's jaw hung open, as he read it through again. Some twisted
individual seemed to have taken the same black marker and scratched out 'C' in spices, replacing it with a K. "Chocked full of of..Spikes?" Noah
said cluelessly, realizing what that would actually mean. Was James already dead? The last section of the menu, not surprisingly was his own
portrait. An old one that no one could have posibly gotten their hands on, especially no one in a town he'd never been to before.
It was from his 6th birthday, when his father had taken him to the fair. His mother had been too sick to join them, leukemia had been ebbing
the last of her life away by that time. His father had tried to be happy for him that day, taking him on rides and winning the archery contest for him.
But Noah had known even at such a young age that his father was terribly saddened by the imminent death of his wife. The doctors were powerless
to help her, and a week after that day at the fair she had died. In the picture Noah was smiling wide, his pearly white teeth shining as he
sat atop his father's shoudlers. Aside from the hand holding his own, Noah remembered that his father had been completely cut out of that picture.
Shortly after that, Noah's father had been mugged and shot outside a bakery down the street from where they'd lived.
Where was that again? Noah had trouble remembering, as his mind could only recall the horror he'd felt. Seven years old, on his birthday once again
when his father had gotten drunk the night before and forgotten to pick up the cake. Noah had told him that it was alright and that he only wanted to
be with his father and share his birthday with him, but his father always trying to make up for the loss of Noah's mother had gone to fetch the cake.
Noah never saw him again, until the police came to the house, stupid men in blue clothing and shiny badges trying to hide the fact that his father had
been killed. Noah dropped to his knees, his hands covering his face as he started crying again. "Why are you doing this to me!" He shouted out loud,
looking up at the bloody rabbit who seemed to tower over him like a judge. Noah's head went all cotton for a moment, he was losing too much blood.
Yes real matters, he thought. Tend to your wounds before you're too lightlheaded to keep your wits about you. He'd never solve whatever sick riddle
this scene posed if he couldn't think straight. He had left home in a hurry, throwing a simple red collar shirt over his white T-shirt. His black jeans
were stained red by all the blood from his ankle and side, as were his black loafers. The thin black windbreaker he'd grabbed at the last second
was just plain dirty, torn in several places from his escape out the window of the spooky car. He was glad he had it now, as the town held a
disturbing chill to it's air even in the wamest of seasons. He took it off, withdrawing the semi-sharp pocket knife from his jeans.
Taking off his shirt, he cut swatches from it, creating just enough lengths of fabric to tightly bind his ankle and side. Noah felt his jaw tenderly,
hearing a dull click as his hand moved it to the right. As he'd thought, it was dislocated. Noah bore the pain as he felt along the side of his face,
feeling along the bone. Taking in a deep breath, he closed his eyes and quickly drove his knuckles against the faulty jaw. He howled in pain,
falling over into a fetal position as the pain threathened to knock him out cold. It hurt so badly, all over his body he hurt so much. He just wanted
to sleep. The old trick a prison inmate had shown him worked well enough, setting his jaw right again despite that it hurt more now than it had before.
"Owwwwww..." Noah sobbed, resting for a bit as he felt the town of Silent HIll swallowing him up piece by piece.