Pinch Me

By Jade Dennis

Summery: Silent Hill 4 Fanfic—Henry's thoughts when he first discovers that he can't leave his apartment. Really Short.

Disclaimer: I don't own Silent Hill 4. It belongs to Konami…I think. I dunno, but I do know it's not me, so don't sue.


Henry Townshend knew that something wasn't right the moment he entered the apartment. It wasn't anything special, but there was this aura about it that just made him feel uneasy. He always got the feeling that he was being watched.

And then he had that dream—that terrible nightmare that had him waking up covered in sweat, panting for air and clutching the sheets. He had never experienced anything quite like it. It felt so real, so authentic.

He was in his apartment—but he wasn't. It was different, changed. The rooms were covered in a thick layer of rust and there were cracks in the walls. It was the little things that really seemed to throw him off. Like the TV. He knew that he had a record player there when he went to sleep that night, but now there was a big screen TV sitting there. On the wall, there was this picture of a man that looked oddly familiar, but he couldn't place a name to a face. And then there was that creature that came out of the wall—he had never seen anything like it before. It was grotesque, and the sound it made...

When he woke up he felt disoriented, he felt lost—as if he had been drinking all day the night before. His head was heavy and the room seemed to be moving around in circles. When he got his barrings, he managed to stumble out the door and into the main room of the apartment. Everything seemed to be back to normal. That is, until he looked at the door.

Thick chains stretched from one end of the door to the other, bolted down with heavy padlocks. Ten loops held the chains securely to the walls, two of which were unused. Someone had locked him in—from the inside. His heart began to race and he could feel his hands claming up.

At first Henry didn't know what to think. He was trapped in his own apartment, held prisoner in his own room. Maybe it was just another dream. Maybe, just maybe, he would wake up any minute and find everything back where it belonged. But as he ran his fingers over the thick chains, he realized that this was no dream.

His first instinct was to pound on the door, to scream for help until somebody heard him. But when that turned out fruitless, he turned around and sat dejectedly on the couch. He never thought he'd be saying this, but he needed to find a way out of his apartment.

But something wasn't right. He felt…off. The air around him felt thick and it seemed almost as if the walls were closing in around him—suffocating him. Everything was so surreal, and he just wanted it to stop.

He found himself staring at the old chest in the corner. It had come with the apartment, and he had never been able to get it open. Something about it called him to it. He wanted to know what was inside; he wanted to know whom it belonged to. He wanted to know who had this apartment before him.

Henry's stomach suddenly lurched forward and let out a soft rumble. He stood up and made his way to the refrigerator, sighing when he found it virtually empty. All that as inside was a bottle of white whine and some chocolate milk.

And that's when he heard the crash. It was so loud that it shook the entire apartment, rattling the cupboards. And it was coming from the bathroom…


AN: I don't know what I was trying to do with this. I just really like the game. This, however, is a piece of crap.