Fifth chapter, which is probably the farthest I've ever gotten in a fanfiction. Really sad, I know. I'm just happy I've made it this far, and since the story is getting rather interesting (or to me, at least), I really can't afford to stop at its very center. What a shame, to shoot down such a scheme! Perhaps a rotting plotline, but a plot nonetheless…and so, what am I rambling for? Probably to make my latest chapter seem more long and impressive…haha. All right, enjoy! And don't forget the reviews and raccoons!

Disclaimer: I own all of the characters (Except the spoon guy and the "legend girl" in the first chapter, if you didn't catch that…), and Konami owns all of Silent Hill. I just mold with it what I can—in which I can hardly achieve any comparative greatness.

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He felt oddly like a white rabbit chasing after a sly and wily fox—somehow he didn't know why he was doing it, but otherwise it felt somewhat right to do so. It was the deadly curious situation—"I know I'm putting myself at fatal risk, here, but it's just too tempting!" Raephin's eyes shifted in and out of a hazy view as he ran past convenience stores and restaurants, billboard signs and paper advertisements, all in all not knowing what he truly wanted to do.

The man he'd seen before wasn't even in sight anymore. Had it been a man? Or, perhaps, he'd mistaken it for a human being and it was really something else? All he knew was that there was blood—or that was what it had looked like—and a very creepy figure. But, even if the vague detail of the outline was a little strange to him, it still could be of help. It still could be a person, an actual human—God, he still had hope! Still had that burning wish that perhaps there was someone else…he couldn't be the only one in the town. There had to be someone…anyone that could give him the right information he needed…and yet, the atmosphere felt more empty and bleak than it ever had before.

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"I can't believe…"

"Miki…that man is a nutcase for this damn religion. It'll kill us all before it births a decent Paradise."

A splattered puddle lay beside Ryland's trembling foot, rich yet sickeningly dark—oh, the color of blood made her shiver at the very thought. She'd always been cruelly teased of such a phobia, and yet this only made her stronger mentally. She could deal with the offensive words other people shot at her, but for some reason Miki seemed to push her down to a level that seemed low and unworthy. "…I can't believe he'd do this to us."

"I can," Roth spat sourly, sitting up and letting out a light hiss through clenched teeth. "You know how he is…you know exactly how he is. He'd do anything—and mind you, I literally mean that—to get to the top…to get this goal we've all been trying to grasp for years."

"What a selfish…voracious jerk," Ryland reached up to trace the dripping side of her head lightly, wincing in what seemed an almost electric pain as she did so. "Why do you think he took our ears?"

"Only took one each, thankfully," Roth snarled in hatred—he could do so when their leader wasn't around. He didn't mind expressing his true emotions around his younger sister. "Your left, and my right."

"That's odd, though, don't you think?" the confused female scrunched up her face in thought, stumbling as she got to her feet carefully. The loss of blood caused her vision to sway dangerously.

"Not for Miki," Roth examined his sister with tired eyes. "You can't exactly expect him to think up any normal schemes. All in all, he hardly plans things out before he does something. Our religion acts as a trampoline to save his every fall, remember?"

Ryland let out a small chuckle, despite her pain. Roth could make a joke of even the glummest of times, which was all in all very comforting. "Come on. Let's get something to wrap this up with and stop the bleeding…"

"And then it's off to go and find Miki—ah, who would have thought babysitting could be so troublesome?"

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Oh, what a powerful feeling this was! His body shuddered in ecstasy as the hot, dark fluid coursed down his hands, tickling between fingers, dropping silently to the ground at his feet. Tucked in his pocket were his two possessions—a fleshy pair he'd stolen from the two who had disobeyed him. It was their fault, really—why hadn't they just done what he had asked? And without question, without unacceptable lies?

Well, to get something done, you have to do it yourself.

It was hard for Miki to see through the floating fog…but, then again, wasn't it that way for everyone? He didn't know how the siblings had managed to get to the cemetery in this…but nonetheless, it was still their fault for lying. Such absurdities that they'd told him were hardly good enough.

"The coffin was empty!"

Well then, search a new one!

"…Digging for hours on end…"

Don't tell me it took all the effort out of your bones!

"…And then finally, after all that, we reached an unbelievingly clean coffin."

Excuses, excuses. Ah, and even if it were true, was that any reason to report back to him? He'd given them tasks, and he had expected for them to be completed. What would Lord Sammael think of this?

I'll be the one to get rewarded in the end, Miki thought fiercely. Me, me, me. And in the brought Paradise, I will lift up my chin, sit before my Lord, and scorn at all those who've defied me! Mocked me! Laughed…oh, it will be such a joy. But first…

His eyes shifted back to the road in front of him. His eyes caught movement—was that movement? Low to the ground, dark…yes, there had been stirring in the distance. He gradually began to walk towards it, carefully, cautiously. He glanced over his shoulder occasionally, thinking he heard footfalls from behind, but when he looked back to catch someone following there was nothing there. And so, always, he shifted his eyes forward to the shady outline ahead.

There was a loud slamming sound, soon after causing him to stagger back and reach up to rub his stomach defensively, where it had roughly collided with what felt like wood. He squinted his eyes to thin slits, finally making out what he had run into. A sign.

Wish House, supported by Silent Hill Smile Society.

A brow rose questionably as he crept closer, throwing out his hand to make sure he didn't run into any other solid objects. The surface of his palm bumped softly on rusted—was it metal? He couldn't exactly see in this misty air—where he trailed his fingers down to trace the shape of two door handles. Had the moving shape entered these doors?

It was only possible. The low silhouette was nowhere to be seen.

With more excitement than half the wariness he had filling up in him before, he gave both doors a great shove.

Well, hello there…it's so nice of you to join us.

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It was hard to believe that a bead of sweat began to trickle down the side of Raephin's face. Or was it merely the moisture of the fog clinging to his skin? No…he would have sworn his other nine fingers that it was sweat—hot, sticky, unbearable sweat.

That crafty fox with the bloodied hands was gone now—but where had he disappeared to? His eyes darted from right to left, back and forth, up and down, but alas there was still nothing to be found. Had it been a hallucination?

He seemed to be getting a lot of those lately.

And truthfully, he was sick and tired of it. Why did his mind have to play these tricks on him? Glazed his eyes so that they spotted illusions at every corner, every street? He shook his head slowly, eyelids shutting tightly, trying to get the images to fade. The town was here, really here…there were people all around him, shopping and chattering happily, carelessly, and soon the police would spot him and come to take him back to that overly populated hospital…

Opened his eyes. Nothing…

…But the creaking of a door.

He whipped towards the direction immediately, driving his legs as fast as they would take him. The source was close; it had to be! He'd just heard it, dammit; he'd heard it with his own, normal, perfectly fine ears! There was something, because there had to be something, because if there wasn't he…

An open door. Up ahead? Yes…not too far from where he was running now. He skidded to a stop a distance away, staring thoughtfully, debating. Should he go into the doors? This might be his only chance to find another living thing…another human. But then again, what if it wasn't really a human, and this was all just a nasty trap? Like a mouse pondering over the cheese, he did what most mice do. He slowly walked into the doors with a hungry need, and a powerful determination to find out if this was the place where everyone in the town had went.

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The surprise on their faces was almost breathtakingly pleasant. He could have simply giggled at the absolutely baffled expression which popped into view the second they entered the dark, secluded orphanage.

There was a dark haired man he'd never seen before—black robe, massed hair, filthy little beard…quite the intimidating one, it seemed. His eyes settled onto the other—the one who had entered at a later time. Fifty-Two's eyes blinked curiously as his attention perked excitedly…he remembered this one! "…N-Number Seventeen?"

He watched as Raephin's head jerked to the right, mouth dropping ajar in surprise. "Fifty-Two…is that you? What are you…?"

A groan exploded from the lips of the man lying in his lap. Fifty-Two's fingers soothingly stroked the man's short hair and watched as the glasses slid off the bridge of the male's nose. Logan's eyelids fluttered repeatedly, eyes wanting to roll into the back of his head, but body refusing to let them do so. The stump of his right leg attempted to lift, but only slapped back to the ground harshly, gushes of blood flooding from the torn flesh. The meat surrounding the bone of the leg was jaggedly ripped, looking as though something sharp—like knives, or perhaps something smaller—had dug and cut without skill along the smooth and once unharmed skin. "We were playing." The young one explained simply.

Raephin, mouth gaping and eyes almost bulging from their sockets, stood frozen in place. "Fifty-Two…what are you talking about? There's…a dying man spread across your knees. What the hell do you mean you were playing?"

"Don't y-yell at me, Seventeen," the black-haired boy warned, smiling teasingly all the same.

Miki's focus was directed elsewhere. Nailed to the walls of the orphanage, and covering the childish drawings of flowers and cats, were draping bodies of several sorts. He noticed that all were human, and all had some sort of…piece missing from them. The first he came across while examining the place was missing a nose—the next one lost a right eye, and the one beside that lost the left. He'd even noted that some of the bodies were only missing one different and particular finger. He reached down to dig in his pocket and pull out the pair of ears he'd taken from the siblings—felt around, dug deeper, frowned. They were gone.

"Don't yell at you?" Raephin stepped closer, shaking his head a bit as he did so. "Fifty-Two, do you have any clue what you're doing?" He didn't know why he kept calling the younger boy by that hospital name—which, technically, didn't even exist. "Rather, do you know what's even happening around here?"

"I've g-got a pretty good c-clue, Seventeen…" Fifty-Two looked innocently down to the moaning human in his lap. "Yep…good clue, good clue…"

The taller and darker man came up from behind Raephin, causing him to jump. Miki eyed the jittery boy with a cocked brow and shook his head slowly, thrusting his head up to observe the sky. "You really do have no clue, do you, kid?"

"Why would I be asking all of this if I did?" Raephin growled in irritation, crossing his arms in both exhaustion and annoyance. "It seems like everyone knows something that I don't…" He straightened to make himself look taller, perhaps a bit more daunting. "I demand to know what's going on. Why are you doing this, Fifty-Two? And why is the town so…different?"

"I-I'll tell you everything…" Fifty-Two shifted, eyeing first the robed man, then his hospital companion, and lastly the twitching individual laying atop his legs. "Everything that I know."