Chapter 1: Of Blaze and Blood

"There goes another one."

Joseph found himself anticipating the descent of the next ash from the cigarette of his associate, a burly-looking Marcell Shanks. It kept his mind off of the task at hand... or at least he wanted it to do so. Joseph sat on a nearby crate, which was slowly dampening from an incoming thunderstorm. He continued to watch the embers collide with the wet pavement, they were like tiny contained blazes, capable of burning everyone and everything here to the ground.

Oh how he wished that would happen.

He didnt want to be here, no, not tonight. Joseph Abernathy was about to be a part of a crime - a murder, actually, and he had no choice except to do or die.

"Nice night for revenge, eh Joe?" asked Marcell in a somewhat unnerving tone.

"How would I know?" Joseph glanced up from the ground, where he had currently been analyzing some gray remains of the cigarette, "This isnt my problem. Ive never had a girl to cheat on me like that..or whatever it was that you said she did. Hell, Ive never even had one to call my own." He focused again on the ashes.

Marcell snorted.

"What?" Joseph retorted.

"Youre nervous, arentcha? Scared of what youve gotta do. I can tell, for Gods sake, youre shivering over there." he smirked.

Joseph really was shivering. He had been trying to give Marcell the impression that he was just cold from having to wait outside in the alley beside - he looked up at the sign on the four story complex above him - Clanton Villa. It seemed to him like a nice name for an apartment building. The thought soothed him for a moment. Suddenly, a punch on the back alerted him that it was time. "God, please forgive me I-"

"Get up!" Marcell dragged him up and off the crate and to his feet, which wobbled a bit. He motioned him over to the corner, then took a moment to peek out into the sidewalk, about a hundred feet or so from the apartment entrance.

Joseph began to breathe heavily, more so than usual, for it was his nature to become suddenly nervous at the thought of a confrontation. Especially a confrontation that involved the killing of someone he never even met before.

"Bastard... thinks he can take whats mine, does he? Well, Ill show him." Marcell threw his cigarette down. Joseph swore he could hear the thud of it. "And Elaine... why? This must be some kind of misunderstandin my part. Youll be back in my arms soon."

The two large doors of Clanton Villa swung open as what was apparently Elaine and a soon-to-be dead man emerged, laughing and hugging each other.

"They look so happy." Joseph thought to himself. He knew he didnt belong here. He was just a simple man, with what was supposed to be a simple life. He didnt ask for much, just a little bit of happiness and content here and there, a good paying job, friends to drink with; all those little things that every man needed to be successful in life. Now he found himself here, in some dark alleyway, in some city he knew not the name of, with some man he had once looked up to. Everything started to move in slow motion. The couple was moving closer. The footsteps were growing more lively. He wouldve been happier if they could stay that way.

"Ok.. lets GO!" Marcell pushed Joseph and himself out of the dark passage and out into the spotlighted street where they met in front of the astounded couple.

"Marcell?! What the hell are you doing here? Youre not supposed to-" Elaine started.
But she was cut off by the dull flicker and clinking of Marcells blade that he had suddenly removed from within his black jacket.

He turned to the man, who had just gone pale, and lunged at him.

"JOE, GET HER!" Marcell demanded wildly.

Joseph shook the previous fantasies out of his head and looked around. Elaine was nowhere in sight. It was too dark to see much, anyways. The man screamed. Joseph involuntarily looked over to where Marcell and the man were struggling. There was blood cascading down the sidewalk. There was no time for thinking now; Joseph found himself running towards the two, cursing madly. When he got close enough, he noticed that they were no longer struggling.. one of them wasnt even moving at all.

"Marcell!" Joseph called.

No reply.

He wasnt dumb, Joseph could figure things out quite quickly. Marcell was dead, if not, dying. Too far gone to answer his call, that was for sure. Just then he heard someone shuffling behind him. Flinging a small knife out of his pocket, he tried to turn around to see what was there but ended up stumbling over on the curb.

Then he saw him. The man who was supposed to die for reasons he wasnt sure of, the man he was supposed to kill was hovering over him, his hair thick with blood, like a cloud of remorse.

The man began kicking Joseph. First kicking his head, then down to his stomach. Neither of them were thinking at this point, it was too late. The knife caught a glimpse of the streetlight before sinking into the mans leg. He let out a howl of indescribable pain. Joseph jerked the blade out, then jammed it into his left rib. The man fell over, obviously dead.

Joseph blinked as he felt tears of some sort fill his burning eyes. He didnt know why this happened. He didnt know how it happened. He just knew one thing: he had killed a man. Would he run? Would he stay and explain to the cops? That surely would not do. Once again he was faced with the choice to do or die.

It didnt matter.

He looked down at the pool of blood and rain emptying the street into a rather large drain. A gunshot rang in his ears amongst the once living screams of the two dead men. A pain seethed in his stomach as he let himself collapse beside the man he just murdered.

And so he waited. He didnt know what he was actually waiting for. The police, maybe? A miracle of some kind? Perhaps even death? Death seemed the closest to him now. He almost wanted it. Death would be his miracle.

The rain got harder, his breath got shallow, and his world slowly became engulfed in the flames of darkness. Josephs mind began to wander off again. "The flames.." his brain kept repeating this line over and over, until he couldnt stand it. He imagined that cigarette in all its blazing glory. He was convinced that it finally had set the city on fire.

Something made him turn to look at the man had killed. His eyes were still open, but cold and empty. Blood was dripping from his lips, creating a thin, red river that went down his cheek.

"I wish I was him. I want this to end." he pleaded in his mind. The end never came.

Looking at the man was too much. He turned his head again and stared off into the dreary night sky. It was all too much to handle.

Something made him want to look over to his right side. His eyes met two massive posts and followed them up to where he found a large billboard sign. With his last bit of remaining interest he read it.

Welcome to Silent Hill: A friendly, cozy resort town!

"Cozy...?"

The sign and everything else went black.