Hey, sorry that its been a while. I had to work on another birthday fic, which I uploaded yesterday. Unfortunately, I have another one to do for an august fourth birthday, so I hope this tides you over until then.
Shoutouts:
WolfRavenSoul: Thanx for the header and footer notes. I love 'em.
Servo: Thanx for taking the time to review my other story. I know how itis to be too busy to read
The reviewer named Angela: I owe you one. Because of your review, I found out how long it was since I updated, which got my but in gear. Here's my next chapter.
Final note: In tradition of the whole 'easter egg' thing Konami does, there will be two humorous parts of the story that might seem out of place, when in truth, its just what I believe Konami would do in a game.
Just giving you guys a headsup.
Without further ado, chapter ten of Founded Fears.

Silent Hill 2: Founded Fears

Chapter 10:

Survival

Angela practically leapt onto the church grounds when she busted through the double doors. Whipping her head back and forth to search the area, the only sight she was met with was a long, shadowy corridor to the left with multiple doors, a flag stand bearing an American flag on the right, and a sort of reception desk with an angled cross hanging on the wall behind it. On the desk were multiple articles of paper and the first door on the left of the hallway was marked 'stairs'.

"Jack! Jill! Where are you guys," shouted Angela, who was only met by her own echo.

In despair, she went behind the front desk to search for anything like keys or a telecom of some sort, but found nothing but a trash can underneath, with the step handle used for the lid broken, and the lid screwed shut.

Not that this was of any concern to Angela, who was still looking for her 'family'.

As she started to scatter papers to the side to look for something of use, her hand hit a hard object connected to the desk, after which followed a small 'ding'. Yelping with surprise, Angela backed away immediately, fearing by instinct that something was going to hurt her (not a too ridiculous instinct in this case). When she approached the desk, however, her irritated paranoia was brought to rest when she saw it was only one of those little grey bells with a knob used to summon someone. Attached to the knob was a small note which read: RING FOR ASSISTANCE.

"Well, nothing of convenience in this town has failed me yet," she concluded in her thoughts.

Stepping up, she rang the bell, and jumped when she heard the cross crash down behind her.

Readying her swinging weapon, Angela twirled around towards the source, only to find that beneath where the cross was hung was a vertical handle that seemed to open a compartment built into the wall. Intrigued as to what was inside, Angela lowered her weapon, and instead opened the compartment.

Inside was a painting of a man and woman sitting beneath the shade of a tree in the middle of a field of tall grass. The woman was leaning on the man's shoulder and both looked serene, like a couple in love.

There was a small bronze plaque beneath the picture that described the scene as a part of a story.

It read as follows:

PART 1 of 4:

Blossoming

This man and this woman had founded the most cherished desire known to man. It is called love. Not only does love bind us to each other in ways of pure bliss, but it is also the way of God's will to bind us to his will in the creation of harmony, as well as the survival of his blessed race of humans. It all only starts with peaceful times such as this where both partners can not help but admire the beauty and value of each other.

Times like these are truly God's work.

The paragraph ended there, leaving Angela wondering if this was really assisting her in anyway at all. Then one of the clouds in the picture caught her eye. It was rather strange, as it was larger than the others (it covered at least a quarter of the sky) and it was also bulging a little. When Angela ran her finger over it, it dropped out of the picture and onto the floor.

Taken aback by it a little, Angela went to pick it up and found that it landed upside down. The reason why she knew this is because on the back of the 'cloud' was actually a hand drawn map of the church, labeling both floors and the bell tower at the end of the hall. In the farthest north door to the left on the second story was a room labeled 'daycare'.

"Thats where Jack and Jill are."

Taking out her marker, she circled the room so she could find it if she was in need of further reference of where it was. Folding the map and placing both it and the marker into her purse, she made her way to the stairwell door. When she got there, however, it turned out to be locked.

"Damn, not again," she internally cursed. The doors around here seemed to have an everlasting grudge against anything living.

Trying to take another look at her options, she opened her map to look at what other available rooms there were. In the first floor hallway, there appeared to be 8 doors, 4 on each side, not counting the stairwell door. In addition, there was also a ninth door at the end of the hall that led to the bell tower. The first two doors on the left side were the men and women's bathroom, in that order, followed by what was marked the 'game room' and after that, some random office. On the other side was a confessional, another office, a janitorial closet, and an art room.

Needing a key to the stairwell, Angela thought it more prudent to try out the janitor's closet, which was bound to have all the keys to the place. Making sure to make her way cautiously, stepping silently while readying her weapon for any possible attack, she walked over to the closet. When her radio didn't go off from anything that might have been hiding on the other side, Angela found the door to be unlocked, and stepped inside.

It was what she usually thought of a janitor's closet; mops and brooms were propped up against the far wall, a bench was built into the left one, and on the right were a neat row of lockers. Five, to be precise. Unfortunately, there appeared to be no wall of keys that one could use to get around. What did catch her attention, however, was what was on the bench. A folded slip of paper no bigger than her index finger lay there, like someone deliberately left a note. Not having lost her faith (as of yet anyway) in random objects lying around, Angela strode over and picked up the paper, unfolding it in order to look over its contents. It read as follows:

I want to play, really I do, but those kids never want to play the game I want. Its always win/lose with those little tykes. Someone has to die in order for someone else to win. Well, I can't interact with them in the way I want, but at least I can leave them something to be occupied with. Please bring these toys to the game room. They should be in locker 4.

God bless you.

(the signature is smeared in grime).

Turning around, Angela immediately spotted the locker in question. She walked over and opened it, and was surprised at what she saw.

There was a whole treasure trove of figurines, each stranger than the last, alongside a poster of a man with long blonde hair, a skin tight blue suit, and what looked like a pistol in his hand. It appeared to be a movie advertisement for something called, Metal Gear Solid 2: Sons of Liberty. It was made by some unknown filming agency called Konami.

"What a queer looking fellow," thought Angela, "and what kind of back water company like Konami would even bother making a male lead that looks more feminine than I am? I surely bet fans won't be much into this sequel."

The figurines were even stranger.

There was one of a vampire on the top shelf, marked Alucard, who seemed to be facing a warrior type man named Simon Belmont. Next to them was a giant, horned beetle on two legs labeled Stun. On the second shelf was an emaciated bald man wearing a gas mask named Psycho Mantis, and a final figure next to him labeled Mario and Yoshi, which had a plump man in red clothing riding a little cute green dinosaur. When she found a button on the cap, she pressed it. It made a little chime. If Angela played video games, she would have recognized it as the '1-up' tone.

"What fantasy world do these guys come from? Such obsessions with make believe can not be healthy, especially with these strange creatures."

Putting these thoughts aside, Angela found what she was looking for on the third shelf; a key, with a label attached to it marked 'stairway'. When she removed the key, she also found that something was written in charcoal on the shelf bottom. Bringing her flashlight to the shelf, the writing appeared to be yet another note, albeit more cryptic:

They won't leave me alone. Swing, swing, swing I kan't stand it. Y will they do that? Fyrst there's the won with letter 9 on his back and another with leter 3 on her danty litle hed. They lyke hitting my hed so much. Pleaze, kyll me.

A little more than freaked out by this message but otherwise not really frightened, Angela just turned around and exited the room.

Her radio burst out into static when she reached the middle of the hallway, and the reason why stood at the entrance of the church. A small, impish creature trudged in at a brisk pace. The head was obscured by sagging flesh, as though someone's turkey neck was placed on a child's head in place of it's face. On its reddish orange body was what looked like multiple burns and scars across the chest and stomach. The legs were shaped like that of those of accident victims; twisted and shriveled, barely supporting the small weight it was loaded with. Most notable was one of its arms. Unlike the right one, which was as bad as its legs, the other one brought the words "swing swing swing" back to Angela's mind. The left arm was a fleshy tentacle with a weapon synthetically fashioned to the end similar to Angela's spiked ball. From what Angela could tell, the scars on its body were there because it kept hitting itself with its own arm after swing with too much force, as it was doing now. Swinging the weapon into itself continuously as though it loved the pain. The burn marks had yet to be explained.

It spotted her, and tried to run at Angela, the tentacle now swinging over its head like some perverse lasso. Angela took her own swinging weapon and struck with it as hard as she could. Unfortunately, the over head swing she performed was done at a miscalculated distance, instead just hitting the floor a few inches in front of the creature. Taking advantage at the frightened woman's pause, the little one swung its weapon in a similar matter and was more successful, striking Angela in the shoulder. Grunting in pain, she backed off while preparing her weapon for another attack. The creature was instantly ready for another go, and swung again with a sideswipe. Angela reacted with the same method, and what resulted was a tie in which both weapons were caught in mid air by each other and tangled themselves. As the child demon tried to free his own weapon, Angela took advantage of its small size and pulled on the rope she had, forcing the little one to fall on its stomach as the force she exerted on the tangled mass made it keel over. Before it could recover, Angela took the ropes of both weapons and wielded them in such a manner that she was able to beat the child demon with the spiked spheres of both her weapon and its own. First it lost consciousness, signaled by the fade in the radio static, then it lost its life, signaled by the complete fade of the static. In the end, the back of its head had multiple puncture wounds, and was bleeding profusely.

When Angela caught her breath, she studied the thing more carefully, in case there was something she missed. Taking the left arm into her hands, she tried stretching it, but failed to do so. This meant that at a certain distance, those things would not be able to reach her. Unfortunately, it meant she couldn't hit them either, as her ball and chain like weapon was a little shorter. If the need to battle ever arised, she would have to be within their field range.

Without any further observations that were deemed useful, Angela went to the stairway door and used the key to get inside.

The climb up the stairs was, thankfully, uneventful.

The top floor was almost identical to the second, with the exception of the reservation desk that could be found downstairs. In its place was instead an empty floor covered in dust, as well as some red paint

blood

on the wall near the ceiling. It looked like random spray paint and nothing more.

Listening to her radio crackle, Angela knew that more of those things

LoveChilds, they're called LoveChilds

were waiting for her down the hall. Rather than fight, Angela merely turned off her flashlight and walked briskly but silently down to the end of the hall. If these things were like the Devils, they shouldn't be able to see her in the dark.

She was right, but due to the small vicinity that the place allowed, Angela nearly bumped into not one, but three of the LoveChilds inhabiting the hall. And it was for naught, for when Angela reached the Daycare door, she found it to be locked.

"Shit," she hissed under her breath.

This proved to be a bad move, as all at once the LoveChilds honed in to her position and started scampering over to her. Panicking, Angela turned on her light so that she could see them more clearly. They were about 67 feet away from her, two taking up one side of the room and the last one trailing around the middle of the walkway. Only the left side was unoccupied. Seeing a risky chance of escape, Angela took it, knowing that she was more than likely to be seriously injured if she took on three of those things. And she couldn't get Jack and Jill

stupid, you're our mommy

if she died from blood loss or infection.

Tensing herself, Angela took the preemptive strike, dashing over to the left of the hall while holding out her weapon. Before the LoveChilds could react, Angela had caught the one in middle in the face with her weapon, and she was already bolting down the stairs before any of the other two could try and follow her.

Panting at the bottom of the steps, Angela was at a loss at what to do next. The daycare was locked, those LoveChilds

my kids

were patrolling the upper floor, and no one was around to help her. On the verge of tears, Angela just curled up against the wall, trying to think of why things went so wrong. Was not church a place of sanctuary, where demons stayed out of its holy vicinity? Where God reigned in comfort and bliss at the sound of each morning bell?

"Wait!"

"The bell!"

It was a long shot, but if anyone was in town to help her, they would surely hear the church bell. It was worth a try.

Getting up and drying her eyes with her sweater sleeve, Angela rushed over to the bell tower door, and prayed that it wasn't locked.

It wasn't thank the Lord.

Inside, there was a dangling rope in the middle of what looked like an above ground well, given the grey stones and darkness above. Not caring about the creepy look, Angela grabbed the rope and with all her strength pulled it.

A gong sounded, but instead of echoing through the tower, it instead echoed from outside, coming from the east.

"What the hell?"

She didn't have time to ponder this as the rope instantly became limp and started to fall. After two seconds exactly, a form attached to the other end of the rope fell with a crack onto the floor. Angela jumped and screamed before landing on her ass. It was only a second later did she realize the form wasn't moving. Wincing as she stood up, Angela walked over and found that the form was actually a deceased Devil with its wings strangely torn off. Wondering where the bell was, she shined her light to the top of the tower, only to find absolutely nothing there; no support for the rope or a bell or any claw marks from the creature possibly trying to stay on the ceiling.

"Odd is an understatement. What is going on?"

Taking another look at the body, she discovered a key in its hand. Curious as to where it would lead to, she used the tips of her fingers to pry it out of the things grasp, not wishing to touch the clammy looking hand.

Taking a look at it, there in small print were the words 'game room'.

Before deciding to head over there, Angela decided it would be more prudent to wash the thing first, seeing as to how something dead was touching it for so long.

Exiting back out into the hall, she checked the map for the women's restroom (she felt she could easily use the men's, but something didn't feel right about it). Marking it in her mind as the third room to the right, Angela faced no problem getting there.

Inside the bathroom was a different story.

Her radio was going off once again, but she couldn't see anything. Then came the pounding and scratching coming from one of the stalls, as though something were trapped inside there. Hoping it would stay trapped, Angela went to the sinks, only to find that they were torn out of the walls. She was about to leave exasperated when she noticed a peculiar painting on the wall. In this one, the same man and woman from the grasslands were present, but instead of sitting idly underneath a tree, both were instead underneath the white sheets of a bed, both stark naked with only that particular cloth covering them. From the way they were holding each other and kissing, it was easy to assume that they were making love. A plaque similar to the first picture lay below the portrait.

PART 2 of 4

Heat

This man and this woman have cast away the irons of shame, freeing themselves to be expressed completely in front of each other. Without these restraints, one could live in absolute bliss with their fellow partner, bringing order to things born from the unimaginable chaos known as the human heart. And as such, great rewards follow those who choose this divine path set out before them.

"Hmph, absolutely cheesy," thought Angela with a bit of

profound envy

disgust. Whoever made these pictures had an overactive imagination and a dirty mind. Just then her foot hit something as she turned around. It made a clanging sound as it went across the floor towards the exit. Wondering what it was, she went over and found it to be a screwdriver. She was about to discard it in her mind as a piece of junk, but instead she decided to keep it, remembering the screwed down trash can out front. When she exited, however, she ran into a little bit of trouble.

The door to the stairwell burst open from a force coming from the inside. Amid the splinters and lacquer covered ruins came one of the LoveChilds from upstairs.

"Damn, it followed me."

Angela couldn't go down the hall because it would only corner her. She couldn't try to dodge it and make a beeline for the stairs because not only was it in her way, but it also would just possibly sandwich her between the other ones on the top floor. And there was absolutely no way Angela was going to run from the church just to get away from that little thing. This obviously left one choice: confronting and killing it.

Angela crept up to the thing, getting her weapon ready. It spotted her instantly due to the flashlight, but perhaps that was unavoidable anyway. The LoveChild ran right over, swinging without the inhibition of caring about self inflicted pain. Angela backed off bit by bit, letting it come closer. She was waiting for it to make that one move...

...she waited...

...waiting...

The LoveChild made the overhead swing.

NOW!

She sidestepped with ease and brought her weapon in a low, circular swing. It got on the LoveChild's legs, wrapping around them and tripping it. Before it could recover, Angela leapt onto it, knees on its chest to prevent movement, one hand on the tentacled arm to prevent it from swinging, and the other hand around its throat. As hard as the thing tried to breathe, it couldn't get any air past the part of the windpipe that was caught in Angela's vice grip. Slowly but surely, it turned first a red, then blue, then purple color as the movement stopped. Finally, the radio died down, signaling its end.

Angela got off, panting and frightened. Despite the fact that it was in self defense, despite the fact that it was a monster and not a child, she felt a small self loathing within her. What she did was what so many people did with unwanted children; just taking their life like that with no remorse.

Hand over her beating heart, she voluntarily slowed down her panting to a slow breath. After taking a few moments of self recovery, the self loathing disappeared, replaced only with relief at being alive. Chuckling nervously to herself, she couldn't believe the fact that she would ever kill her family. Why just this morning, she just a hearty good bye to Daddy-

Angela grabbed her stomach and covered her mouth, fighting the urge to throw up. What was going on? What was wrong with this town and her memories?

"This place is really doing a number on me. All the more reason to get my kids out of here."

After taking a couple more moments to recover, she stood up, retrieved her weapon, and walked to the trash can.
Taking out the screwdriver, she opened the lid to find yet another key.

"Who the hell leaves these lying around all over the place?"

Angela just ignored the thought and took the thing. It was marked 'confessional'.

Thinking that to be more interesting than the game room, she tried that place first. Easy to reach, just had to take the first door after the stairway door.

Unlocking it, she went inside.

Only one side of the room was open, which happened to be the confessor's side. The priest's side was locked. Inside she found a tape recorder, as well as a white sheet covering the way to the priest's side.

"Hmm, the original screen must be broken."

A third thing she discovered was a horrible smell, something like

a corpse

bad meat. Choosing to ignore it, she decided to take a look at the recorder. A tape was still inside, and it was either rewound or unused. She chose to find out which it was by pressing the play button.

A kind of whispering sound began to play, then an old, male voice made itself known. It sounded anxious:

"Why can't we go? Why? This place, this church, all of it is about redemption. But what about those who don't want it? Why can't it leave us alone? On her foot, 4 and 4 again, although whether one or two of them matter is a matter of speculation. On his shoulder, when he pins me against the wall to face my deeds of passion, 5 of them take place. Please, let me dance within my own madness. No salvation, no bliss. Just ignorant insanity as punishment instead of this hell of a court room. Well, at least this town does allow me take one choice into my own hands. Please, just let me be."

"..."

click

The tape stopped. All of a sudden, Angela had a bad feeling about the next confessional. Pulling aside the cloth with a trembling hand, she just had to know whether or not the priest was all right.

A frightened gasp escaped her throat when she viewed the other side. The smell was stronger than ever, and on the wall was spattered blood. In it, a message was written:

IM FREE

BUT IM LONELY

PLEASE JOIN MY MADNESS

ANGELA

YOU WILL BE HAPPY IN OUR IGNORANT INSANITY

Angela slammed open the door and flew out of the room, not looking back.

After pressing her back against the door for a few moments, she let herself tremble in order to get it out of her system, fighting the urge to just break down and cry.

"Will any of us get out alive?"

Shaking her head, her resolve reset itself.

"NO! I must get them out of here. No child should ever have to suffer this place."

Wearing a more determined look on her face, Angela got up, and went to her next destination: the game room.

Inside were things she never thought she would see in a church. There was an X Box, a Gamecube, as well as a few other objects she did not recognize. Then there was the safe, only instead of having a combination lock, it had a key lock. Since it was rather obvious what to do next, Angela inserted the key, then found a note next to an electric, battery powered shaver. The note said:

Please give Mr. David his hair cut. Always complaining about assuming another identity and catching a cold if his hair were to be cut, but if he just stayed out of the rain, maybe his headaches would start to disappear. That rather childish man is always hiding in the art room. Please take care of this.

"David... are you here?"

Thinking this the chance to finally confront her brother, she went into the art room across the hall and down one door.

There were the usual things; spattered paint across a table, numerous art boards to hold portraits, and a chalkboard. On the table was a mannequin bust with a long, bushy haired wig that was brow, and a blue bandanna across its head.

"I'm guessing that, strangely enough, this is David."

When she tried to pull the wig off, Angela found that she couldn't do so. It was like it was grown into the scalp of the bust. Taking this as a rather queer cue to use the razor, she proceeded to shave off the sides of the hair as well as trim the top for balance, leaving what looked like an army cut. Revealed in one of the ears of the statue was a hole, which concealed, yet again, another key. Pulling it out, this key was marked '2cd story men's room'. Needless to say, that was her next destination. Angela was under the creepy feeling that something was guiding her. Whether it meant good or ill, she did not know.

A sneeze sounded from the bust, and a random sound of surprise came out of nowhere. Not feeling particularly frightened as much as creeped out, Angela just slowly backed out of the room.

On the second floor, the radio static was low, meaning that the LoveChild's were on the other side of the hall. Turning off her flashlight, she made it to the men's room without incident.

Above the nearest urinal was a third picture plaque. In it, the same man and woman were present, only fully clothed this time, but the woman's belly seemed to be bigger. She was pregnant. She was laying on a couch holding her abdomen and looking at in peace, with her husband standing over her, mimicking her actions (for her abdomen, not his own). Another plaque was placed below this one.

Part 3 of 4:

Expectations

The time of joy is almost at hand. Every man and woman deserves such a joyous occasion, for it means true separation of the one called Seedless, and eternal happiness as being able to survive as one of God's true people.

Angela just quickly skimmed the writing, not really interested in the story.

When she went back into the hall she stopped. Something was wrong.

Her radio wasn't going off, meaning that those LoveChilds could have been in any of the rooms on the floor, waiting to ambush.

Were they in the daycare room?

She was about to panic when she heard a creaking sound from the door across the hall.

The sunday school room's door was slowly swinging open, as though something just entered there.

Her radio wasn't going off from the disturbance, so it should have been clear.

It was.

Inside the room it was all bare, nothing to indicate that children went there every Sunday morning. Only the far wall had a rotating numerical lock locking something that looked similar to the painting door at the reception area. There were four dials on the number zero.

...leter 3 on her danty litle hed...

...On his shoulder, when he pins me against the wall to face my deeds of passion, 5 of them take place...

...Fyrst there's the won with letter 9 on his back...

...On her foot, 4 and 4 again, although whether one or two of them matter is a matter of speculation...

The combination was 3, 5, 9, and, after finding that 8 didn't work, 4.

The last painting was not as she expected.

The frame was still up, but the whole portrait had been clawed out by something. Nothing was recognizable. Even the plague was broken in two and smeared in grime.

On the empty frame, this cryptic message was written:

All men and women deserve this happiness... except you, you ungrateful Seedless cocksucker. You'd let him cum in your mouth if that impotent demon could actually get that thing up. You don't even get to know about the ending so many couples have a right to.

Angela backed up, horrified at the words.

A horizontal plank fell hanging from the frame, written with this continued message:

Let me take you to the beginning, and tell you your version of the story, you little slut!

"Who... who are you," she asked, trembling.

In response, the frame and plank just split in half. All of a sudden it got hotter, like she was in a fire place. Angela's vision began to blur, then it started to darken.

In the distance, the melody of sirens pierced into her skull.

She fell.

When she got up, everything changed.

There was fire on the ceiling, only it tried to burn down instead of up, trying to reach her. Then she saw that the floor was burning and that she was on the ceiling. Everything was upside down!

She also appeared to be in the reception area, and up near the floor part of the room, she first painting started doing a kind of backflip on the wall, making its way to Angela's eye level. When it reached her, however, the scene was entirely different.

There was a skinless woman in bandages. She had no eyes. She was in the process of flashing her breasts towards a tall, brown coated human like figure with bird like talons for feet, a pair of giant transparent bat wings, a pair of emaciated arms and a head that resembled an insects, namely a roach.

It was, all in all, a Sightless flirting with a Devil.

Below was a jagged caption written in soot:

The little bitch had a habit of making herself available to anyone she wanted by looking pretty, but the tease just didn't have the courage to go through with anything. Finally, her kin decided they had to do something about it.

Reacting to a noise around the corner, Angela looked up and to the left a little to see the upside lady's room door be surrounded by a green gaseous glow that Angela was all too familiar with.

The door backflipped in the same manner as the painting and stopped at the bottom. This time, the green glow left without incident.

In a trance like state, Angela stumbled towards the door and entered.

The painting this time was at eye level to begin with. The Sightless in this one was being pinned down by the Devil as it forced itself upon her, making it seem as though it was raping her. Another vulgar caption was below:

The father took the harsh job and forced happiness on the little one. How she begged and cried, when in truth she was enjoying the sweet sweet ectasy of God's plan. How unfortunate that she had to drive her father into it, but it had to be learned.

"Sounds like something Daddy would say," thought the dazed Angela.

In the hall, a hole broke through the floor, and a rope made itself known by unraveling itself upwards, into the hole. Angela climbed it, and wasn't too surprised to see at the top that a man had been attached the other end by the neck in a similar way done to the Devil. The 'paint' on the wall earlier had run down, making itself into letters that posed a cryptic statement:

If I could ask Dante a question, it would be this: Why was Lucifer upside down?

The men's room door backflipped like the others.

In there, the painting featured a dead LoveChild, Devil, and a green gaseous glow of something off the side of the frame. The Sightless looked a little plump and was standing over the bodies:

The little ingrate murdered her family, claiming they ravaged her, despite all the joy she felt. Little whore didn't want to admit the good in what her father did, so instead she killed him, as well as the brother who supported her actions. She tried to go for the mother, but she already escaped. Their daughter deserved all the happiness in the world, even at the hands of her father. The mother knew this and stated this to the daughter, but she only made the brat worse in her sick anger. Thank the Lord there was one survivor of this unholy massacre.

In the hallway, burning LoveChilds stuck on the floor were writhing in agony from the flames. They tried to use their weapons long reach to try to hurt Angela, but she just stayed crouched down to avoid their swipes. Into the last room she went.

The Sightless in this painting was dead. Its skin was burst open all in front from the neck to the vagina. From the corpse there was a bloody trail leading out of the frame:

The child didn't want a mommy like that, so instead it ate her insides and burst from her entire body fully grown.

The End.

Her vision blurred, and then she blacked out again.

She appeared in front of the Daycare door, which was surrounded by the green glow, only instead of backflipping, it began to pulse instead, increasing in size as it began to grow to a size in which it would touch the ceiling Angela was on.

The whispering voice on her radio made a return,

"I believe you've learned your lesson. Now, lets get the kids home. I'm awfully tired."

"Yes," responded Angela in a robotic like voice, "of course."

The inside of the room was grotesque. The walls were made of flesh, a few spiked clubs were propped up, and there were many, many pistons pulsing into the wall and out, in and out and in and out. The most noticeable thing was the slit in the wall, shaped so much like

a vagina

the Doorman's mouth.

The roomed groaned as the walls began to contract, as though it was going into labor.

The radio played a song in a drawling tone:

Jack and Jill went up the hill

A crown came out of the whole, followed by a body similar to that of a full grown man. It landed on its head.

To fetch a pail of water.

Jack fell down and broke his crown

The walls contracted a second time, only now, a full figured body of a woman went sliding out easily, and it stumbled onto its side.

And Jill came tumbling after.

"What will you name them, Angela," asked the voice.

"..."

"What was that?"

"These... aren't... my... kids...," she said louder.

The male stood up, although it appeared to be a bit tipsy. He was about nine feet tall. A bandage was around his head like a snake, exposing only one, puss filled eye that had not iris or pupil, and a cracked open head exposing gray matter. The arms were so muscular that they looked capable of little movement. The body had a small, tight fitting shirt with a smiley face, and it had shorts that looked similar to that from a boy scout. It was incredibly obese, and its feet were rotting away. It picked up one of the clubs from the wall and wielded it in a fashion very similar to the way Angela wielded her bat.

"What a bad, horrible mother you are. I thought you learned your lesson, but apparently you are just a profound liar."

"Shut up! These things are monsters, not little children!"

"Now you're just hurting their feelings. You deserve everything bad that happened to you."

The female was rather emaciated, and stood to about twelve feet tall. It was more like a walking skeleton than anything living. The hair was long enough to reach its ass, and it seemed... alive somehow. The skin was like leather, and its eyes were like one big pupil overwhelming the cornea. On the ends of its hands were 18 inch claws. The dress it wore was raggedy and covered in filth. It would've been suitable for a wedding if it wasn't for the mess. The hair on its head arched back like snakes.

"Well, we'll just have to let the little ones spank mommy in this case."

"SHUT UP! YOU FUCKED WITH MY MIND! I HAD NO KIDS! I'LL NEVER HAVE KIDS! YOU FUCKING LIAR," her rage gave way to Angela assuming her own monstrous appearance. She had human skin, but no human rage. It was beyond that. It actually comforted her a little, as it felt so familiar. But she didn't have time to ponder that.

The voice gasped, "Now you're swearing in church. No wonder this place is so topsy turvy. Children, forget about spanking her; mommy needs another reminder of the joy of God before she dies. I'll check up on you after you're done."

"Get out of my head, David," Angela strained through gritted teeth.

On one side were the bastard children of the town of Silent Hill, born to kill whoever denied them of their greed of love. On the other was a vicious Amazon twirling a weapon while having a demonic grin plastered to her face. Vengeance and death glittered in her eyes.

With each their own battle cry, they all attacked at once.