I would like to take this opportunity to thank everyone who has reviewed this story and I'm glad to see that most of you are enjoying it. I would also like to welcome Starstealer (forgive me if I miss spell your name) back and advise everyone of you to go read her fic if you want to read a good Silent Hill story.

This was going to be longer but after the last chapter, I didn't have it in me. Still, it's long enough, I hope.

Chapter 12: Of Ghosts and Gods

It would be nice to say that Jobe's first breath of fresh air was a truly refreshing, born again experience that purified his lungs of the stale rancid air of Silent Hill's sewage system. Sadly, it was anything but.

The bedraggled Jobe clambered out from the manhole that Virgil had (quite forcibly) pulled free in to the pale, grey-lit street. Almost smiling, he brought himself to his full height and stretched, breathing deeply to help erase the stench of the underground passageways from his mind.

He stopped mid-inhalation.

Sure, the air smelt much purer up here but there was an underlying hint of the rotting odour that his brain could barely register, but it was there. It seemed that the whole town had been touched by the greasy fingers of corruption, spreading out from its rotten core.

He felt eyes upon him.

Jobe stopped and looked at Virgil who had frozen like a statue, intently watching Jobe as she pushed the manhole back into position. Not like there was anyone around to fall into the uncovered hole.

A mild "What?" Was all Jobe could manage in response as his mind slowly came back to the plane of reality it should have been on.

Her gaze quickly snapped away, back to the rusting metal disk.

"Nothing, I-I…" she trailed off, ending her mumbled sentence with something that sounded suspiciously like sorry as she turned her attention back to pushing the manhole cover back over the hole. A squeaking rumble echoed up the lonely street, the noise sounding so alien as the heavy iron cover was dragged over the gravel.

Ever since the incident with the centaur, she hadn't said a word. Not that this was any different from normal but the silence that hung between them had been a painful one and she begun to apologise for everything profusely. Any attempt at making conversation had failed painfully.

Jobe lifted his gaze form the still dripping girl and looked up the road they'd emerged on. Clouds of milky fog billowed and twirled in a sharp breeze that cut through his damp clothes like a knife. The temperature felt as though it had dropped another ten degrees since the last time he had been outside. Jobe wrapped his arms around his body, trying to ignore the fact it had started to snow. Small watery flakes fell from the sky, but quickly vanished as soon as they kissed the concrete ground.

"Snow in August, this place is just full of surprises." Jobe commented sullenly as he watched the sleet like precipitation seep through the green material of his shirt.

Virgil sat back on her hunches, having finished her self appointed task.

"It's always like this here," She let out a sad, half-hearted attempt of a laugh. "I haven't seen the sun for such a long time now…" The girl looked up to the threatening grey sky that seemed low enough to touch for a brief moment before signalling for Jobe to come join her.

He squatted down by Virgil as she produced one of those resalable plastic bags from a pocket that looked ready to come free of her trousers.

"Where would this friend of yours have gone?" Jobe watched with that lethal curiosity of his as she opened the bag up and produced a small fold of yellowing paper and carefully began to unfold it.

"Phil used to live here, so I guess he'd go back home but if he's in as bad a state as I think he is, He would have headed to the nearest hospital."

Underneath the hood, Virgil's good eye twitched,

 'That would be bad, VERY bad'

And paused for a second before lying out the now A5 sized piece of paper on the ground. Jobe silently ran his eyes over what appeared to be a dog-eared map of Silent Hill. Jagged black lines ran across its surface, making up streets and buildings labelled with untidy writing that was so small, Jobe had trouble decoding it.

He hadn't realised how big the town was before. Jobe's heart sank in his chest when he saw there was a huge lake that divided the two half's of the town, and both looked way to large to find someone in. There was one feature that stuck out like a sore thumb and always seemed to just be in the corner of Jobe's eye as he let them run over the details of the map.

At the end of one of the many identical streets, there was a furious scribble. The lines raced furiously over the page, in some places tearing the fragile, yellow parchment as they tried to blot out whatever had been written. Underneath, in that illegible script, it was merely labelled as 'the dark place' that did nothing to remove the veil of ambiguity.

Jobe was just about to open his mouth to ask about it but Virgil beat him to it.

"Do you know where he lived?" Her voice creaked softly from under the hood.

"Phil wasn't exactly open about his past," Virgil turned to Jobe and in the faint, distilled light, he could make out that distorted eye of hers squint in frustration. "But he did tell me he used to live in an apartment. Does that help?" Glancing at the map, Jobe realised that just under half of the residential buildings were flats. In an attempt to redeem himself, Jobe tried again. "Look, why don't we check out the hospital first…"

Her hand came down violently on the map as she scooped it up and began folding it away.

"That place is on the other side of the lake, we should try this side first." Jobe was surprised to hear how clam her voice sounded after that small display but it sounded so forced. It was as clear as day (well, maybe not in the case of Silent Hill) that there was something worrying her.

"You should keep a hold of this," As Virgil rose; she held the once again tiny fold of paper out for him, beckoning for him to take it. Cautiously, Jobe reached out for it.

"Why? You aren't planning on running of and leaving me, are you?" He meant it in jest, but Virgil seemed to visibly cower at his words, as if Jobe was pointing a finger at her and screaming the accusation for all the world to hear.

"No! I-I just…" The girl stuttered and tripped over the words as she tried to justify herself as fast as she could. "It far to easy to get lost in this town, that's all."

"I didn't mean it like that."

"Oh," The moment Jobe's fingers locked onto the parchment, her hand fell heavily to her side where the fingers twitched uncomfortably. "Sorry…"

The silence around them invaded the conversation, filling it with an awkward quietness that seemed impossible to break. After what felt like a painfully long time, Jobe finally wrenched himself from the dream like state that had fallen over the noiseless street.

"It's as cold as hell out here, we should make a move before you turn into an ice sculpture." He murmured, staring at the waterlogged jumper. Virgil shifted uncomfortably under his gaze turning towards the end of the road and still in that awful silence; the two began their misty pilgrimage into the town.

*   *   *

Jobe was beginning to lose any sense of direction he'd had. Every street they turned onto was practically identical to the last; all were lined by squat, unimpressive and neglected houses with the occasional convenience store or bar. The few apartment buildings they'd come upon had all been locked from the inside, with doors that stubbornly refused to budge. Jobe had tried to smash his way into one with the lead pipe but even though he'd given it his all, the melee weapon merely bounced harmlessly off the peeling wooden surface, taking a few flake of paints with it.

"You aren't going to get in that way." Virgil observed as she watched without interest from the bottom of the small flight of wooden steps that lead up to the apartment's entrance. Jobe turned, still flushed and let the metal pole drop limply to his side.

"Why the hell is every thing in this god damn town locked? It's not like there's anyone around to care if someone breaks into their house!" He gave the door one final slug, the hollow sound resonating through the murky air with a dull thud, before joining Virgil.

"Be thankful, it's one less place we have to search."

  He'd barely caught her before Virgil took off, walking at such brisk a pace that Jobe had to jog to keep up with her.

The houses on either side of them disappeared into the ever-thickening mist, becoming little more than shadows. Jobe hated this lack of visibility, he wouldn't have known if there was anything on the street until he'd practically run into its open arms (or mouth or whatever the next monstrosity they ran into was armed with). However, fate seemed to have decided to let Jobe and his slightly unbalanced guide have a break from the norm that was Silent Hill. Since they'd embarked on this odyssey to find an unlocked door, which was not proving to be an easy feat, they hadn't bumped into anything intent on eating them.

Virgil turned onto yet another road. To Jobe, the only difference between this one and the last was that it was even foggier and decrepit than the previous street. If it wasn't for her, Jobe was sure he would have become lost in seconds, whilst Virgil seemed to be able to navigate the town so effortlessly. It was as if someone had painted a bright, fluorescent line that only she could see.

"Virgil?"

"Mmm?" Came the absent minded response.

"Who's Alessa?" During the course of his stay in the town, Jobe had heard references to the girl and met her once very briefly (although she seemed far from sociable). Plus, it was an excuse for conversation.

"Where did you hear that name?" Jobe wasn't sure if the best way to answer a question was with another but at least Virgil was talking again.

"I think that Claudia woman mentioned her…" This, of course was a lie but Jobe really didn't feel like talking about that dream again and he'd sound as mad as a hatter.

"Figures…"

"How so?"

"She's the first person who mentioned Alessa to me as well." Jobe stopped and suddenly found that he felt extremely uncomfortable as Virgil continued to talk.

"When Claudia told me about her, she made it sound as though this Alessa was some sort of higher power, that she would save man-kind and create some utopia where we would live happily ever after."

"That sounds like Claudia alright." Virgil ignored the interruption and carried on.

"Anyway, the second time I heard about Alessa was in the library on the other side of the river."

"What were you doing there?"

"I became curious about the towns history…" Jobe shot her a sceptical look. "What? It's not like there's a lot to do around here and the locals aren't exactly friendly."

Jobe grinned at the last comment and fell silent.

"Any way, there's one of those old newspaper archives that goes all the way back to the nineteen hundreds. About twenty four years ago, a little girl was killed when her house burnt to the ground_"

"Let me guess, our friend Alessa?"

"You're catching on. For a while, the authorities suspected her mother, Dahlia Gillespie, had locked the girl in the house and torched it, but they didn't press any charges. The next time I heard about her was in the hospital. I was in the basement looking for…medical supplies. I managed to get myself lost and ended up is some treatment room. The strange thing was that there was only one bed down there and according to the chart, its occupant had been a miss. Gillespie."

Jobe broke in.

"What's so odd about that? It could have been her mother for all you know, or Alessa could have been there before."

"The chart started the day after the fire and it was for a major burns victim. The newspapers and hospital files said that Alessa died in that fire but she didn't. She was being kept alive down there, not that whoever decided to do it tried to help her get better. They just left her down in that basement for seven years."

Virgil cut off abruptly, grabbing her throat. Her mangled voice box wasn't used to doing so much work in such a long time.

"Are you ok?" Jobe asked cautiously but his concern was dismissed by a wave of Virgil's hand.

"P_perfectly…fi_fine." Came the choked answer, reminding Jobe of the guy who fell down the stairs and insisted that he was all right, even if he'd clearly broken his leg.

"So who come Alessa didn't die if she wasn't receiving any medical attention?"

Virgil released her throat from the rough grip she had it in and looked sadly at Jobe.

"A god can't die."

Jobe was so stunned by the depressed remark that he actually forgot to walk and almost tripped over his feet.

"What? Are you trying to tell me that this girl is…" For a moment he couldn't bring himself to say it, the whole thing seemed so ridiculous. "…God?"

"Well that's what Claudia and the others believe."

"What other's" He was starting to become annoyed with his own ignorance. For every question he asked, it felt as though another hundred could follow it up. Virgil visibly flinched at the sound of his raised voice, looking at him as though he could blow up any second.

"Well, from what I gather, there seems to be some sort of cult that operates in this town…"

Jobe didn't hear the rest, letting the rest of Virgil's words wash over him. This tale of ghosts and gods that she was weaving was all too unreal, but then again, this town seemed to revel in the unreal.

'Could it be true that god could be found here, in the last place I'd expect to look?'

Then he saw.

Virgil was in the middle of explaining the cult's perverse beliefs when she walked straight into Jobe's outstretched hand. She looked at him, about to ask what she'd done wrong with him but froze when she saw the look on his face.

"Look!"

She followed the direction of his out stretched finger, tracing the invisible line it drew to the pavement.

There on the tar-mack, for all the world to see was a lone, dragged and bloody foot print

+++++++++++

Oh, que the dramatic music!

BTW, my geography of Silent Hill is all screwed up so if anyone has a full map of the town, could you possibly drop me an e-mail, it would be greatly appreciated.