Well, I have to admit that this chapter came as a surprise even to me. I'm sure everyone that writes knows you plan certain specifics for your character to take. Well, after getting about two of those done, this chapter began to write itself. Richard doesn't do half of what I'd thought would be in here, but I feel it still worked.

There have been a lot of people questioning Pyramid Head's involvement. Since he wasn't in either the first or third Silent Hill (If I just didn't see him, let me know!) so I probably won't have him in this story. Sorry, but I think Walter Sullivan will be enough for poor Richard!

Please note that while the fighting style Richard uses is NOT normal, it is how I know how to use a knife (a medieval style). This was done to add as much realism as possible.

Finally, the school will not be as everyone remembers from Silent Hill. I feel that would lower the suspense, so if he's in an area that people don't recognize, that is the reason. Hopefully this won't anger any fans.

All the best,

David Struve

The door at the end of the courtyard was locked, and try as he might Richard couldn't find a key. With no other option, and with time possibly running out for his wife, he raised his foot and slammed it into the door. An incredibly loud boom rang out around him, but the door held. Two more kicks also failed to do the job, leaving Richard fearful of alerting the Keeper that Walter had spoken of.

He'd barely begun his search for Sarah, and already he was at an end. It was impossible to leave, but impossible to go forward. In desperation, he reached behind him and took the steel pipe into his left hand.

Cautiously, he set the pistol down on the ground and raised the pipe over his head. With all the noise he was making, he wasn't sure if any creatures were around. However, his radio only crackled slightly so he decided he had a few seconds to be lightly armed.

With a loud grunt, Richard brought the steel pipe down as hard as he could on the doorknob. A metallic CLANG resounded through the courtyard as steel met brass, but he was rewarded with the sight of the doorknob landing softly on the brick steps leading to the door.

The door was unlocked, and Richard had just crouched to pick up his pistol when the static on his radio flared, going from a slight crackle to a full roar in less than a second.

Only his luck in crouching at that moment kept Richard from death, as the door exploded into splinters around him and a dark, blurry form came hurtling through. Richard felt the swish of something coming dangerously close to his face, and then felt a searing heat in his shoulder as the same something ripped bloody scratches through his clothing.

Ignoring the pain in his shoulder, Richard kept searching for the pistol. Pushing aside several chunks of door, he finally found it in a pile of splinters.

At the same time his hand closed around it, he heard a low growling from behind him. Much as he'd done against Walter, he turned and fired in the same motion. This time, however, there was only a metallic click as the weapon tried to fire a dry chamber. In his haste to get away from the serial killer, he'd never checked the pistol. Now that mistake could possibly cost him his life.

Though he had no ammunition in his pistol, the penlight on the bottom still worked perfectly, revealing what had come through the door in crystalline detail.

Standing over five feet tall, the creature looked like a woman with dark lanky hair that hung down over her face. She was naked to the waist, but the sight sparked no arousal in Richard, only that same sense of nausea he'd felt when looking at the corpse, for strips of flesh looked to have been ripped from her ribs and breasts leaving jagged and bleeding slashes.

The bones in her elbows had long ago been broken, sending a jagged stub through each arm that now served as a weapon. Just as deadly were the razor-sharp fingernails that were cracked and broken on her hand, four of them crimson with Richard's blood.

A dirty pair of flowered pants protected her lower body, but didn't hide the fact that her knees bent in the wrong direction, broken bones grinding with each movement. Even her shoes had been slashed and torn, showing the same kind of claws that her hands had.

As Richard bent down for the steel pipe the creature looked at him and snarled, revealing eyes filled with milky cataracts and a mouthful of broken teeth. Again, he was reminded of his days reading urban legends, though this time he was able to remember where the creature had come from.

Richard was face to face with how he'd imagined the Jersey Devil to look.

He saw it, yet he didn't believe it. The creature in front of him was only something that was supposed to exist in the darkest corner of his mind, yet the sight of it sparked a faint memory in his mind. It was the briefest flash of a long hidden event, gone nearly before he'd realized what it was.

Now, though, he had no time to reminisce. The pipe was near the right leg of the creature, and so Richard had no choice but to draw his knife. The handle fit easily into his hand, blade pointing downward and the hilt against his pinky.

He knew that he'd only get one chance to attack the creature. If he missed or was a single inch off in his blow, it would only be seriously wounded and able to rip him to shreds. Nothing about this seemed real and he wanted only to pinch himself and wake up, but the burning in his shoulder and the blood trickling down his arm were proof enough.

The creature very nearly didn't give him a chance to even strike, for in a strike as fast as lightning it bent its legs behind it and flew at Richard. The pistol in his hand illuminated its move in almost slow-motion as the Jersey Devil closed the gap between them.

Purely on instinct, Richard dropped his feet from underneath him, going from nearly six feet tall to half that size instantly. At the same time, he brought his left hand up and flipped his wrist over. As the creature missed him by inches, the knife ripped a bloody trail across its stomach. The wound wasn't fatal, nor was it deep enough to gut it, but from the scream the Jersey Devil emitted, terribly painful.

They both regained their feet at nearly the same moment, but now the creature was more cautious of what Richard could do. Not willing to waste this moment he launched his own attack, bringing the butt of his pistol down hard in a strike to the creature's head. This attack wasn't meant to do anything, but the creature fell for the feint and slashed hard at the black steel.

The next thing it felt was Richard slamming his shoulder into it, throwing it backwards and sending it tumbling end over end to try regain its balance. The creature couldn't understand why all the strength seemed to have gone out from its legs, or why it felt no more pain. Then, in a gurgling scream, it died.

Richard stumbled to the creature, reached down, and pulled the knife from its neck. He'd used the momentum of his body slam to jab the knife deeply into the jugular of the creature. While he didn't know its anatomy perfectly, he could be sure that a ruined neck would end the life of anything on earth.

With hands that hadn't been steady for a very long time, Richard reloaded the Beretta and wiped the knife off on the creature's already dingy clothing. He found the steel pipe amid the wreckage of the door and again strapped it to his back.

While his radio told him that there were other creatures around, he took the time to examine the creature one last time. It was important that he knew any possible weak points it might have.

Other than a few large splinters under its fingernails, probably caused by it smashing the door, and numerous unexplained scars…he found nothing. Unable to put it off any longer, Richard picked his way through the door and back into the school.

Almost immediately he was struck by the smell of mold and decay. It flooded his nostrils and smelled surprisingly like rotten fruit. He walked quietly through the dusty corridors, leaving his footprints on the ground behind him.

His only light was the now weakening glow of his penlight, and all it could only show a few yards in front of Richard. Even the radio on his side didn't help, rising and falling so quickly in static that he looked over his shoulder almost constantly.

At the next intersection, Richard saw rows of metal lockers lining the walls in every direction. From the earlier fury he'd seen from the Jersey Devils, Richard hadn't expected the school to be spotless, but he'd never imagined the fury that he now saw.

Jagged shards of metal protruded from the lockers where doors had been ripped off. The opposites of those shards had been jammed through the walls and doors, leaving shards of wood lying around on the floor. Several of the locker doors had been rammed through other lockers, showing the brute strength of the creatures.

"Who are you?" A voice behind him asked.

Richard whirled and put his pistol to the head of a janitor that had suddenly come up behind him. The man showed nearly no fear at the Beretta that had appeared in front of his face. Like the rest of the school he looked old and decayed, his clothing torn and tattered from years of wear. Blood spattered the bottom of his overalls, and the water in the mop-bucket beside him was bloody.

"It can't be!" The Janitor gasped. "William, you've come back to Silent Hill after all these years!" Tears shown in his eyes as Richard looked at him curiously.

"You have me confused with someone else." He said finally. "My name is Richard."

"No." The Janitor said vehemently, shaking his head furiously. "You promised to come back and save me William, and here you are! You know how long I've waited…first Sarah and now you!"

"Sarah!" Richard said. "Where is she?"

The Janitor lowered his head to his chest. "I'm afraid I don't know William. The Keeper has her now and there's nothing I can do about that."

"Take me to the Keeper." Richard said.