Silent Hell

Prologue

Brandon Burris holds in a heavy sigh. Things are not going his way today. In fact, they hadn't been going his way for the past month. Everything horrible that could happen did: his wife left him for another man and took almost all his money, he was forced to move out of his house and into an apartment with rent he could barely afford, a storm came and destroyed his copies of the latest manuscript that was due, and his job was being threatened.

"Yes, I understand. I'll be back in town tomorrow. Thank you." His cell phone beeps as he ends the call and places it in his belt clip. And to add to the list, a relative Brandon has never even heard of has died and left all their possessions to him forcing him to drive hours away to claim them. Brandon looks around the study area of his late Great Aunt's Uncle's Cousin's Priest, or whoever they were. Papers lay about in great heaps and bookcases are overflowing with documents.

Ever the optimist, Brandon hopes that viewing some of these papers will inspire him in some way so he will have a place to sleep within the next two weeks. So far he has found nothing of importance. He lets out the awaiting sigh and stands, maneuvering his way around the books and papers, making his way to the door. In the kitchen he sets a pot of tea to boil and watches the world from the window. Brandon is disappointed that he cannot remember what his original story was and it baffles him. He had been so psyched about it, and put so much effort into it, so why can't he remember the darn thing? The main character was an older man, no a younger man... Or was it a woman? What were they doing, what was the point of the story? He was looking for his daughter? No, looking for his wife. Or maybe her son-

The harsh whistling of the tea draws Brandon out of his thoughts and he turns off the fire, picking up the kettle and placing it on a coaster that seems to be the only decoration of the table. After fixing himself a cup he stares off trying to remember what he was thinking about. Oh yes, the book... What was the name of ...it... The book...

Brandon's eyes come into focus at the site of uneven pages between a hardbound cover. Huh, book? What he thought was a coaster is actually a book! Absentmindedly, he places his hand on the kettle to move it aside and snatches his hand back, pain shooting up his arm. The sudden force knocks him back into the chair and the uneven weight topples the chair backwards. He sucks in a breath as his head connects with the floor. Brandon lies there for a few moments, wondering about what kind of brain damage he would take from this fall, before remembering he burned his hand and the pain comes back full force.

He rolls over and rushes to the faucet and streaming the cold water on his wound. As the water numbs the pain, he looks back over to the table where the kettle guards the book. Why would someone use a book as a coaster? He thought. Must not be very important... He shuts the water off and makes his way back to the table, this time using a pot holder to grab the handle and setting it on the opposite end from his seat. The book's cover reads "Silent Hill: Historical Sacrifice" in bold letters, while the author's name, C. Mason, is printed in much smaller font below it. Brandon very vaguely remembers the name from a US History text book in a section talking about different colonies. Silent Hill was the example used for a penal colony. He pulls back the cover gingerly, not knowing how old the book is, and skims through the table of contents and timeline. Notes are written in the margin on one of the pages of the timeline.

-1972 Alessa born

-1974 Claudia born

-1977 Vincent born

Brandon flips through the pages briefly scanning the chapter about the first settlers of the town (Indians who used the lake area to conduct rituals) and other tid-bits. A thought occurs to him that this would be a good basis for a story. Indian rituals weren't too common, it could sell well. He picks the book up, the pain completely gone from his hand and his head, and heads back to the study.

He notices it's slowly getting harder and harder to see the words correctly and removes his glasses to determine if they are the source of trouble. Then he observes the sun all but disappeared from the sky and leans forward to switch on the lamp. The town of Silent Hill seems to be nothing but bad luck; plagues, people vanishing while on a cruise, rituals around every corner, a haunted lake. The plot bunnies were multiplying like mad. Brandon places his glasses back on and looks around the study once more. He would have to read up on the town later, and instead gets back to work sorting through documents.

A particular top shelf, protected by a thick layer of dust, advertises titles that gains Brandon's interest immensely. All the books tell something about Silent Hill: prisoners, birth and dead records, addresses, members of something called the "Order," maps, and school attendance. Whoever his late relative was, they had some great interest in the town of Silent Hill. Brandon runs out of the study and comes back in with a box to load up all the books discussing Silent Hill. He wants to get back into his town before midnight so he will be able to get his few hours of sleep before waking and continuing his research of the town.

-s-i-l-e-n-t--h-e-l-l-

"Claudia Wolf. Born in nineteen seventy-four. Daughter of Leonard Wolf, born in nineteen forty-seven, and Rita Dastrup, born in nineteen forty-six." Brandon mutters as he jots the information down while sitting at his living room table. "Look here, Snowy," he raises his voice a bit to the white rabbit who turns an ear towards the writer, "It says that Mrs. Rita Wolf died when their daughter was only two and, in that same year, Mr. Wolf and Claudia joined the Order cult thing. Think he was just too grieved and had nowhere else to turn?" Snowy chews some straw in response. "Or maybe," he continues, "he killed his wife to get into the cult. Or maybe there was another reason... Another woman who was apart of the cult convinced him to join?"

Brandon slides next to Snowy's cage, kneeling up to pet the rabbit through the open top. "Throw some odd romance in there and I think this'll make a great story, don't you?"