Chapter 19: Dream logic

'The sun turned black like sackcloth made of goat hair, the whole moon turned blood red, and the stars in the sky fell to earth, as late figs drop from a fig tree when shaken by a strong wind.'

-Revelation of St. John the Divine


Countless dead, pitchblack eyes stared at Beth and Shelley as they followed Dean through a hallway on the third floor. These lifeless eyes belonged to birds, hares, minks, newts, squirrels and other stuffed animals, all placed in cabinets on both sides of the corridor. Eagles and owls stared down from the tops of the cabinets. They looked ready to take off and swoop down for the mice on the lower shelves.

At the end of the hallway, Dean opened a door with '3F LAB – Astronomy, Physics and Chemistry' written on the plate. The room beyond was square and brightly lit by the fluorescent tubes on the high ceiling. Blinds covered the windows in the far wall, a grey tinge seeping in from the foggy sky outside. Intricate models of atomic compounds hung from the ceiling. Photos of Einstein and Niels Bohr hung on the walls.

The pupils' tables had been pushed together to form one large, square table. A model of the solar system was placed on top of the grey surface. The model consisted of coloured plastic-balls, representing the planets, and long wires bent into concentric circles, representing each planet's orbit. A yellow ball in the middle obviously constituted the sun.

Beth examined the teacher's desk, which was buried under a mess of test tubes, electric measuring instruments, short leads and bottles of distilled water. She pulled out a drawer and found two boxes of shotgun shells lying inside. "What kind of teacher would store up shotgun ammo in a classroom?" she muttered and grabbed the shells, tucking one box into her pocket. She sat down on a pupil's chair, opened the other box and fumbled to reload her weapon.

Meanwhile, Dean searched through the cabinets. "If you run into another one of those monsters, you will need something to defend yourself with," Doctor advised.

"Yeah," Mister said, "good idea, Doc."

"Do. Not. Call me. That."

Beth finally managed to reload the shotgun with five shells from the desk. She tucked the remaining sixth shell into her pocket along with the other box of ammo.

In a cabinet at the room's far corner, Dean found a large, blue plastic-can with screw top. The tiny writing on the label was faded and nigh impossible to read, but the three black-and-orange symbols were easy to recognize: A striked-out W, a flame and a skull with two crossed bones. 'WARNING: Highly Flammable – Reacts Violently with Water – Extremely Toxic.'

"Dean? Be careful with that," Shelley admonished. She had been running her eyes over the model of the solar system, when she noticed Dean grabbing the large can of acid.

"Yeah, I just thought I could use it as a weapon," he said, adding softly: "In case more of those creatures appear."

Shelley nodded.

Beth was contemplating an odd hole in the middle of the blackboard. It was one inch in diameter and looked like a tiny shaft, going upwards through the board and wall. When Beth gazed through the opening, she could see the blue sky outside.

"Blue?"

Beth glanced through the windows in the left wall. The sky was grey and dull. She frowned and looked back through the hole in the blackboard.

Blue sky. Not a single cloud in sight. Despite the winter weather Beth had seen outside, the shaft in the wall insisted on giving her a view of a beautiful summer sky. Just looking at it made her feel warmer. The woman stepped back, eyes wide with disbelief. She noticed another hole in the blackboard next to the shaft, but it was just a round hollow. "What the hell does this all mean?"

She stared at the depression and the shaft for a few more seconds, then turned to examine the teacher's desk again. A familiar book lay between the bottles of hydrochloric acid and saltpetre. Beth picked up the old-looking edition of The Tempest and read the page it had been opened on. It was clearly an introductory article on the symbolism and mythical origins of Prospero's spirits:

'Juno, Ceres and Iris are all inspired by Roman myth. Iris is the spirit of the rainbow and a messenger for the gods. Her servile and vibrant nature is reminiscent of Ariel, while Ceres obviously reflects the vile Caliban. Since Prospero himself addresses Caliban as "Earth", it is quite remarkable that the spirit of Ceres presides over agriculture. Juno, goddess of the sky and wife of Jupiter, could be seen as a reflection of the most powerful character on the island – Duke Prospero.'

Beth couldn't help noticing the similarities between Ceres and Dean. Ceres represented Caliban, and Beth had found both Dean and the monster Caliban in the same place – the mental wing of Lambert Hospital. Ceres 'presides over agriculture', and Dean had found the key of Ceres in a plant's pot. "So … am I Juno? And Shelley's Iris?" Beth guessed.

Suddenly, she understood the meaning of the two holes in the blackboard behind her. The round depression was the exact same size as one of the planets in the solar system model – the large, light orange one.

Jupiter.

Beth dropped the book on the desk and walked up to the model of the solar system. "Juno, goddess of the sky and wife of Jupiter," she muttered and reached out, snatching the ball from its orbit between Mars and Saturn. Shelley and Dean's bewildered eyes followed her, as she walked back up to the blackboard and inserted the planet in the hollow. It immediately stuck in the depression as if pulled in by a magnet.

A key slid out of the hole next to Jupiter and clattered onto the floor. Beth picked up the key and noticed two letters engraved in its metallic blue surface: 'Jo'.

"Juno."

A verse with four lines appeared on the blackboard, as if scrawled down by some invisible chalk:

'Honour, riches, marriage-blessing,

Long continuance, and increasing,

Hourly joys be still upon you!

Juno sings her blessings on you.'

The intercom system clicked and hissed once more, and the old principal's voice crackled through the room's speakers: "Elizabeth Kalember, Dean Frost and Shelley Tate, please report to the attic classroom for your last lesson today – pictorial art."


Louise sat in the principal's office, resting in the man's brown leather-armchair behind his desk. She stared out the window at the school yard. The falling snowflakes performed a quick, graceful dance before reaching their deathbed on the asphalt ground. Philip Blackmer sat on the other side of the desk, studying the 'Crimson Ceremony'. His tattooed hands slid gently over the pages as if caressing a beautiful body.

As Louise watched the preoccupied man, she recalled how they had first met three days ago. So many amazing events had taken place from that moment and up till now, but the memory of that Saturday afternoon was still fresh in her mind …

Patricia Barkin put the receiver down with a shaking, chalkwhite hand.

"Mom? Who was that?" Louise asked, standing in the doorway between the entrance hall and the living room. The Barkin family's abode was a simple two-storey house on Rubin Street.

Patricia's lip quivered, but no words could make it past the lump in her throat. Her vision of her teenage daughter was blurred by tears. She briskly walked through the room, past Louise, out to the entrance hall.

"Mom?" Louise said, her voice growing more alarmed. "Who was that on the phone?"

"Police," Patricia answered, donning a warm coat and shoes.

"What did they say? Where are you going?"

Patricia ignored the questions and buttoned her coat. She walked through the hall and gripped the handle of the front door.

"Is it about Sharon?" Louise said. Her little sister had been missing since yesterday.

The tears finally trickled from Patricia's eyes, and she ripped the door open. "No!" she yelled back, denying the unbearable facts that she had just heard from the policeman. She stepped out on the cold street, slamming the door behind her.

Louise stood in the hall for a moment, dumbfounded. She then ran up the stairs to her bedroom and pulled her diary out from the bottom of the desk drawer. The girl quickly wrote down what had happened: 'Mom just got a call and hurried out. She wouldn't tell me where she was going, but I could see she was almost crying.'

Louise paused, wondering where her sister had disappeared to yesterday. Maybe it had some connection to the mysterious phone call Patricia had been so shocked by.

The teenager winced slightly at the sound of the door bell ringing below. She got up from her chair and glanced out the window next to the desk. The guy at the front door looked like a monk of sorts. His bald head was covered under a dark brown cowl. He had crimson, circular symbols tattooed on his hands. He kept ringing the bell and knocking on the door, a patient smile on his face.

Louise sat down at the desk again and wrote a brief description of the monk in her diary. 'I'll go ask what he's doing here.'

The girl hurried down the stairs to the entrance hall and opened the front door. The monk had produced a plastic bag containing a sugar-like powder. His nose was buried in the milky-white surface.

"Who are you?" Louise asked. "And what's that powder?"

The monk's smile broadened. "My name is Philip. Father Philip Blackmer. This …" He glanced at the bag before tucking it back into his pocket. "… is something that helps me follow my path through life. It's called White Claudia."

Louise frowned. "Where have I heard that name before?"

"She's quite famous in Silent Hill," Philip said.

"Silent Hill," Louise repeated. "I grew up there."

"And I have come all the way from that town to meet you, Louise."

"How do you know my name?"

"The good Lord told me everything as I performed a ritual called Gyromancy," Philip said. "I also know that you have a little sister named Sharon. She is lost."

"Do you know where she is?" Louise said, a faint tone of hope in her voice.

"Yes." Philip's eyes were filled with grief. "She has passed into the shadows beneath. But with our help, She can return to the countries of the world and spread salvation. You have been given a very special gift, Louise, and the time has come for you to truly use that gift."

In the office of St. Gilliam School, Philip looked up from the yellow pages and closed the book of the Crimson Ceremony. "This is perfect," he said. "It contains all the guidance we may need."

Louise stood from the armchair. "So … can we save Sharon now?"

"Yes," Philip nodded. "We are ready. Take us to the ordained location."

Louise walked around the desk and took Philip's sweaty palms in her own little fingers. They stood there for a few seconds, holding hands, eyes closed, sensing their surroundings change. The air became colder. Biting winds started brushing over their bodies. The floor turned into snow. Vague shapes moved and transformed in the darkness under their eyelids.

"It's complete," Louise said.

The duo opened their eyes. They were standing at the bottom of a hillside in Hooper Park, surrounded by thin birch trees. Hooper Lake was situated beside them. The hole in the middle of the ice was still there, like a wound in a human body, one which time would seemingly never heal. Philip gave a slight smile. He had always appreciated the great symmetry of life.

This was where Sharon had passed away.

This was where she would be reborn.


The trio was walking up the stairs to the attic, which was more like the building's fourth floor. It consisted of three classrooms for the more artistic subjects – music, art and pictorial art. The stairs to the attic were made of grey, broad stone. Faces and masks, made of painted papier maché, hung on the walls. Fourth grade pupils had created them as part of a feature week about Native Americans. The heads were complete with fake-looking peace pipes and feathered headgear. They stared down at Beth, Dean and Shelley with their crude papier maché-eyes.

Beth froze at the middle of the stairway, gasping in shock. "What the hell!" She pulled out the Juno key from her pocket. It felt hot between her fingers, as if it had just been held over a flame. The colour of the metal surface had grown darker, from a light blue shade to pitchblack with a ghostly tint of crimson. "The skies have darkened …"

"What happened?" Shelley asked, standing farther up on the staircase. Dean waited on the top landing.

"I don't know," Beth said. "The key just turned warmer all of a sudden. Almost like some kind of bad omen."

Juno could be seen as a reflection of the most powerful character on the island – Duke Prospero …

"This is the key of Juno. Louise is Prospero."

some kind of bad omen …

"The skies have turned black." There were no windows in the smooth white walls of the stairwell, but Beth knew that the day had turned into night. After all, the key of Juno - goddess of the sky - would never lie to her. Perfect dream logic.

"We've got to hurry!" Beth sprinted up the stairs, taking three steps at a time. "Louise and Philip are about to complete the ritual."

"But why?" Shelley ran after her. Dean led the way through a short corridor at the top.

"I don't know," Beth said as they entered the pictorial art classroom. "I mean, I know what's going on – but I just don't know how to explain it without sounding completely insane … We just have to stop the ritual." The woman gripped her head as if trying to block out all the common sense and skepticism from her old life. This was neither a dream nor a nightmare. It was real. Or rather, it was a nightmare, but one that she could never wake up from.

"If we don't stop it, we'll never find a way out of here," she told her two puzzled companions. "This world – this decrepit, unreal reality - will be all that's left."


A/N: Yay for crappy cliffhangers. The school is oh-so-wondrously easy to describe since I'm using my own school as the model … Wolf: "Just reward"? Have to disagree with you there. He was an annoying character, though, much like every other school bully.

SlapDash: Heh, either that or they've been watching South Park …

Tune in next week, -E.P.O.