Into the hole, like Alice to Wonderland, without the fall. Only the grime of the hole to keep you company. The dank smell, soft dripping of the soiled water. Just bear through it. Right? Possibly. Come out on the other side. You're in a room, most likely. Cold walls, enclosing you. Pressing in. What is this...sudden feeling of claustrophobia?

You look, and see one of those mutated dogs. You thought up a name for them while lying in your bed, in that room. 302. Sniffers. The way they pressed the elongated, torn snouts to the ground, took a sniff, and their gigantic, ant-eater tounge whipped out inspired the simple but effective name.

Speaking of effectiveness, you had only that steel pipe, a wine bottle, and a simple pistol. And only two magazines of ammunitions. That was bad. Looks like you'd better find some more. Then, the Sniffer noticed you. As it looked at you, torn face and rotten eyes gazing unblinking, you laughed at it, and grabbed the pipe, waiting...waiting...and the dull thud of rotting flesh meeting steel pipe soon happened. The Sniffer didn't go down right away, not until you stood on it's neck, and slammed it's head with the pipe. Over, and over. And over. It was dead, now.

As you got a feeling for your surroundings, you realized you were in the Wish House, once an orphanage. For an orphanage...this was bleak. Blood matted the walls like some sort of sick wall painting disaster. The soft tip tip tip of the Sniffer soon reached your ears again. Cover was your only option. Because several more tip tip tips accompanied it. You could take down one, not three or four.

No choice, they had your smell. An idea, not too bad, came in mind. You stripped off your sweaty shirt, and threw it in front of them. All four of the Sniffers started tearing at it, and you ran. Ran like hell.

You were out of that room. Into another. The Heater room. Jasper seemed to be taking the meaning of the room too literally. He was burning alive, screaming in a tormented agony only matched by the soldiers of Hell. His flesh smoldered, but on his chest, were numbers. 17121. He had been rambling on about a Devil. Looks like he met it.

You couldn't stand the smell anymore. There was a hole in the wall, identical to the one you had crawled through before. What in hell's name WAS this world?

---

Back in room 302. I guess the forest world or whatnot was...too...creepy. And Jasper...burning alive. Maybe I should try the television again. Maybe it'll work this time.

The television crackled. An image of a body stretcher with a figure, draped in a white cloth from head to toe. Jasper.

Goddamn...Everyone's getting killed, wherever I go! First, Cynthia, and now Jasper. What...in god's name...no, that's not it. What in the devil is going on here? I can't even smash open my window. Reminising won't do good. I already know what I CAN and CAN''T do. I better check around the house for something to bring to my next...excursion to, as I've started to affectionately call it, Silent HIll.

Around the house, my busy hands and eyes scurried, around every nook and cranny. I found something...disturbing. A peephole into room 303. Elieen's room. She sat there, in her silk nightgown, getting ready for bed. I yelled through it. She didn't hear. No choice, I looked a few seconds longer, then moved the object, a dresser of sorts, back in front of the peephole.

Back to the Hole.

To wherever Wonderland decides to drop me off.

Back to Hell.

---

Back to...a Supermarket? You looked around, and almost laughed. It seemed perfectly normal. Then you blinked, and in that blink, you looked past the veil of what had been. And saw the encrusted walls of caked filth, blood, and...stuff. Stuff so strange, you didn't know what it was. It looked like a fungus, but it...had eyes? Whatever those blood red, beady things were, they shifted to look at you. Unnervingly. With a strange sucking noise, they pulled themselves from whatever they were clinging to. They were clinging to a store attendant, his mouth filled with one of those mushroom heads. His eyes the same. Looked so disgusting, you couldn't find anything comical about it.

They shrinked from the wall, and ploped to the ground, as you looked skyward. The building's roof was beginning to be entangled with a sort of vines, fueled from the biological functions of humans. And a few of those Sniffer dogs, from the look of it. That wasn't too surprising.

The plop. The shuffle. The slimy trail of blood left behind by their scuttling forward.From the belt loop, you grabbed that iron pipe. It was your best friend in this alien world, it seemed. It also kept them away.With a sold sound, a mushroom went flying. Then three of them. Then four more. Like a game of rapid golf, you swung and swung at them. Soon, the crowd had been decimated, and you were panting. Sliding down against a wall, your breath heavy, you laughed again.

Things were going to be a lot harder from now on.