If We Sleep Together…

PART ONE: The Ants Go Marching.

When Rayne woke up from her nap, it was dark, and the Greyhound had stopped. She yawned, stretched, and ran a hand thru her choppy hair. Moving her tongue around her mouth to try and kill the sleep stickiness, she stood pulled her messenger bag over her shoulder.

It was then, and only then, that she realized that she was alone on the bus.

When she had boarded it in New York, it had been full of wanderers. Women, children, teenagers, old men, people on vacations and people trying to escape the morose rituals that their lives had become. But now, they were all gone. She was
alone. The only sign that anyone had even been on the bus with her were a few candy wrappers that littered the floor.

She scrunched up her nose, and made her way to the front, pushing the doors open with the palms of her hands. As she stepped onto the stairs, she heard it. A sound from behind her. Static.

She turned back around and noticed a small box on the drivers seat. It was a small radio--the kind that joggers use that clip to your belt. She moved the dial, trying to get a station out of it, but to no avail.

"Damned thing must be broken." she muttered to herself.

There was a faint cry from outside the bus. It sounded like an eagle. As it faded, so did the static. Rayne looked towards where the sound had been, and then shrugged, clipping the radio onto her belt. She didn't know why, only that the lack of people around was starting to bother her, and, even if the radio seemed broken, maybe she could get it to play some music later on. Maybe the signal was just bad, here.

Wherever 'here' was.

She climbed from the bus, and looked around. The area was surrounded by fog, and Rayne automatically put her arms around her to shield herself from the wind. She went to the side of the bus, and pulled on the handle to the luggage hatch. It was stuck tight. She cursed and kicked the tire.

She then noticed the road sign. It said 'Silent Hill: 3 miles.'

There were a few extra lines added to the 'i' in 'Hill'. She snorted, remembering a time when the most fun thing in the world was playing with spray paint.

"Might as well start walking." she said to herself, "the faster i get to 'Hell', the faster i can warm up."

Chuckling at her lame joke, she started towards the town.

oooOOOooo

Rayne was cold. Or at least she thought she was. She had been walking for hours and still hadn't made it to her destination, and her teeth and body had stopped shaking about 20 mins ago. She had seen enough nature programming to know that once your body stops shivering, it had basically given up trying to keep you warm. This was not a good thing.

"Wh-why the hell is there sn-sn-snow, anyhow?" She muttered to herself, "Th-this is fuckin' redicul-lous. And how l-long does it t-take to walk three b-b-bloody miles! Maybe the t-town really is hell, and I have to d-d-die first to g-get th-there..."

She trudged on a little farther, her boots heavy, her messenger bag digging into her shoulder, her back bent in the wind. Her mind started singing "The Ants Go Marching" to keep her in a somewhat steady pace.

It was then that the sirens started.

She heard them faintly at first, dancing on the wind, but it was enough to make her jerk upright and turn her head towards the sound. The movement caused her feet to become tangled in each other and she fell to the ground with a hard 'thud'.

The sirens got louder. She couldn't move. She didn't care. Sirens meant help. Sirens meant police, firemen, ambulances...

...air-raids?

They were too loud, now. They hurt. She covered her ears and closed her eyes, and her last thought before losing consciousness was whether or not she was going to end up getting run over, and if she did, she hoped it was an--

"--ambulance!"

"...eed fi...cc's...at!"

"what...pend, Off..?"

"...ient is ..ne La...age...een...there was...eak in..."

"...omeone stop this blee...!"

"..eed a trach...!"

"...ang related...ey tie...ound her ne...nd wri...ped her wi...ne bot...ig end...st..."

"She's...ing in...rest!"

"..ear!"

"That isn't...ically pos...!"

"I know. That's..hy...ut her vag...o ma...fit."

"...ear!"

"...ear!"

"RAYNE! WAKE UP! GET UP, RAYNE! RAYNE, WAKE UP!"

"Cry...?"

She awoke with a gasp. It was dark and she was warm. She sat up, rubbing her head, and looked around at her surroundings. Somehow, she was now in a room. A hospital room, to be exact. To be even more, specific, a really dirty hospital room. The bed she sat on was stained and poofed up clouds of dust and dried blood specks whenever she moved, and the walls were covered in spotted sheets. Bottles littered the ground, the tv hung haphazardly from its arm, and sitting on an instrument tray, looking like it owned the place, was a shiny silver handgun.


A/n: So this is my first attempt at writing Silent Hill fiction. This is a concept that I had originally come up with a few years ago for an RPG message board that I joined and then never really had the time to mess with.

I'll try and update this as soon as possible. I'm working on a few other stories at the moment, as well, but I just wanted to get this up.

I'll say now that this story is completely separate from any Silent Hill main storyline. Think of it like SH2 was—The main character is in the town to learn something—so there will be no cult elements or god or Alessa or anything like that. At least, I don't think there will be. The way my stories go, I don't even know where they're gonna end up, sometimes.

As always, R and R, people. Will make me happy.