They made their way toward town. The fog was very heavy now, and they could barely see twenty feet in front of them. They moved slowly, weapons at the ready.
The road wound along the cliffside, deserted, with the occasional vehicle parked along the side as if pulled over for just a moment. After a long while, a small structure emerged from the fog. They passed through the gate, which opened onto a short enclosed walkway.
Henry stooped to pick up a newspaper lying on the ground. He blew off the dust.
"It's been here for a while," he said.
"What's the date on it?" John asked.
Henry shook his head. "It's too faded…I can't read it."
The walkway opened onto a dirt path. It wound through the trees past an old ranch. The gates to the ranch were locked.
Across the path from the ranch sat a pile of logs.
"Smell that?" Eileen asked. "Fresh sawdust."
John peered at the log at the top of the stack. "From a fresh cut. Looks as though there was a chainsaw here not too long ago."
Henry laughed. "A chainsaw, huh? Sounds useful."
Eventually the path led them onto a paved street. Their footsteps echoed off the concrete, and they knew that they'd found the town.
The streets were deserted, it seemed, even though it was nearly midday. Fog wrapped around everything like a cold blanket, and the silence was deep. It looked like a normal town, otherwise…restaurants, shops, the usual. Just very, very quiet…
…but not quiet enough.
John stopped suddenly, and they froze. A faint shuffling sound was coming out of the mist in front of them, moving away. They crept forward.
A figure wobbled from side to side, staggering along as if drunk. Its skin was grayish, and it was covered in blood and pus. Its arms seemed trapped against its sides under its skin. It smelled horrible.
John gasped.
The figure stopped and turned quickly. They were just able to back up out of the way before it bent backward, split open and sprayed something evil-looking at them. The liquid hissed and smoked as it hit the concrete at their feet.
Henry quickly circled around its back and swung the axe before it could turn around. It groaned and fell to its knees. Another quick blow, and another, and it lay on the ground. Eileen ran forward and stomped on its head once. Blood pooled on the ground around it.
John's stunned gaze moved from the body to Eileen's bloody boot, and back again.
"What…the HELL…was that?"
"That's why you brought us here," Eileen said.
"Welcome to our nightmare," Henry said. He surveyed their surroundings. "The monsters may be different, but the rest feels familiar."
John shuddered. "My God...when I found Frank here, I never saw anything like this."
"We're probably going to see a lot more," Henry replied. He shifted the axe in his hands.
"You're good with that thing," John said.
"A skill I wish I didn't need."
They proceeded further down the street, and came across a wide smear of blood, trailing off down a side street. The street led to a gate, then to a construction blockage in front of a deserted archway. They turned back.
As they neared the street they'd just left, the scuffling sound returned, and another of the wobbling monsters trudged toward them. Henry made short work of the thing.
Another shuffled up to them and reared back. They ran out of its path, and Eileen brought her shovel down on its head. It scurried away, but John caught up with it and beat it down, then stomped on it.
"You're getting the hang of this," Eileen said.
John nodded grimly.
They continued on, and John found plenty of opportunity to hone his batting and stomping skills. Eileen noted that three able-bodied people with weapons definitely made many things easier…including staying alive.
Most of the doors they tried in town were locked. It was as if the whole town had just closed down for the day. The shops were dark and quiet, and the fog shrouded everything in a thick, diffuse gray light.
In a residential part of town, they came across a mutilated body. Henry bent down to pick up the sheets of bloody paper that lay around the corpse.
"Anything?" Eileen asked.
Henry shuffled through the papers. "Nothing that we didn't know already," he said.
They explored the center of town, finding every door locked as they went. There seemed to be a lot of construction going on in the streets...well, not actually going on. Many roads were partly blocked with sawhorses and yellow caution tape, and a few were completely blocked by fabric barriers. But nobody was around.
Nobody human and alive, that is.
But they kept trying the doorknobs anyway.
Eileen's hand was starting to get sore when the latest knob actually turned in her hand, and the door swung inward. They entered a small room with a dingy counter that had seen better days. The large window was covered with newspaper, and over it was written, in red:
There was a HOLE here. It's gone now.
John looked at Henry. "What do you make of that?"
Henry frowned. "I don't know," he said. "Maybe our experience wasn't unique."
There was nothing else of interest in the room. The walls were blank and peeling. Part of the counter was clear of dust, as if something large had lain on it recently, but the space was empty. They left the room and continued up the street.
Some time later, they came across a trailer near the end of a street. The trailer was empty except for a note on the table, written neatly on a single sheet of white paper.
Why are you here? Perhaps he doesn't want to be found. Have you thought of that? Or, perhaps, you don't realize what you're getting yourselves into.
Maybe he's in Hell. Or, maybe he's dead, or worse. Maybe it would be best for everyone if you didn't find him. Let sleeping men lie.
Maybe.
At any rate, you're here. Best of luck. You're going to need it. I don't envy you your task. Not at all.
"Sheesh. That's encouraging," Henry said.
"Thoughtful of whoever to warn us, though," Eileen replied.
John stared from one to the other. "How can you two be so...casual about all of this?"
Eileen shrugged. "If you worry too much, you're going to go crazy."
John turned back to Henry, who nodded agreement.
"There's not much else you can do."
"What can we do?"
"Keep our eyes open," Henry said, "and our weapons ready."
"So," John said, as they walked along past the empty shops. "You used to know James. What was he like?"
Eileen thought for a moment. "I didn't know him really well. He was a lot older than I was. The last time I saw him, I was still just a kid, eleven or twelve maybe, and he was twice my age. But he seemed like a great guy. Outgoing. Always had a smile and a joke, and he knew just how to make me laugh."
"Sounds like a popular guy," John said.
Eileen laughed. "Popular with the girls, anyway. I didn't meet any of the guys he hung out with, but whenever I'd visit him and his dad, he was always going on about some girl. My friends thought he was pretty cute."
Henry raised an eyebrow at her, but she ignored him.
"A ladies' man, then?"
"Not really, actually. It wasn't like he went after them...they came to him. Seemed like it was never the same one twice...until Mary, anyway."
"What was she like?"
Eileen bit her lip.
"I guess...pleasant, to look at. Pretty, even. But unremarkable...you wouldn't give her a second look in a crowd. But she was the center of James' world. At least it seemed that way...he was certainly the center of hers. She lived for him. I got the impression from what she said that she couldn't believe her luck."
"What were they like...toward the end?"
Eileen shook her head. "I don't know. After they were married, I didn't see them as often. They had gotten their own house, and so James wasn't living with his father any more. I only saw them a few times before she got sick...they seemed happy enough.
"After she got ill, I didn't see them at all. James never came down to his father's apartment when we were there, and my parents didn't feel right about visiting them somehow. All I knew was what Frank told them...that Mary was very sick and wasn't getting better. Then, they were gone."
The three walked in silence for a while.
"Do you think that they might have come here? Or is Frank..."
"I don't know," she said. "But it seems like a possibility. One time when we visited Frank, they were there too. They'd just come back from their vacation to Silent Hill, and Mary went on for ages about how much she loved it here. She said that you could really sense the spirits in the place."
"My mother used to say the same thing when we visited here," Henry said. "She would tell me ghost stories that her mother had told her, late at night in the hotel...somehow, they seemed more real here."
"She really seemed to love it. She said she wanted to go back every year. Maybe James really did bring her back here one last time..."
They were silent for a moment. Then, a shuffling footstep moved nearer, and they readied their weaponry yet again.
At the end of one street, they found a high barrier wall covered in white fabric. The fabric was dingy and dirty, as if it had been there for a long time, but was intact.
They'd seen walls like this before, blocking areas apparently under construction. What was different was the small door in the corner, with a brass knob. On the door was written one word, in red:
Joy
"Your turn, John," Eileen said.
His hand turned the knob, and the door opened readily.
Darkness lay beyond, and even the light that filtered in from the outside seemed to be swallowed up before it reached the interior.
"I'll go first," John said. He readied his gun, and they passed through the door.
The darkness was complete. The door slammed shut behind them, and Eileen felt like she'd just been sealed into a coffin...
Suddenly, the room was filled with light. They blinked for a moment, then looked around.
They stood facing a wall. The room, which had felt smallish in the dark, was actually very small, not more than a closet. In the wall was a large, round...
"Hole," Henry said under his breath. "Never thought I'd see one of these again."
"Is this what they looked like?" John asked, peering at the red markings around the edge of the hole.
"Yeah," Henry replied. "Just like this. Eileen, can you see it?"
"This time, yes," she said. "I guess that we all can. But I can't read the writing."
"Well, if there's one thing I know how to do...it's crawl through holes," Henry said. "I'll go first."
As Eileen crawled, she realized that the tunnel was long, very long. The other end glowed faintly in the distance. The darkness was stifling. She could only see Henry's silhouette as he led the way forward...
They were standing in a large, dark area outdoors. The sky was clouded over, and the area was shrouded in an inky blackness. An empty lot stretched in front of them into the darkness. The nighttime air was crisp, and a light breeze blew a few bits of trash across the concrete at their feet.
"Wait a minute," John said slowly. "I know where we are."
"Where are we?" Eileen asked.
"This is the old drive-in in Paleville," John said, looking around. "I remember this place. My friends and I used to come out here on Friday nights in high school. We'd pile into my friend's trunk and sneak in for free. You know." He breathed deeply. "Haven't been here in fifteen years..."
He inhaled sharply.
"Something's wrong."
"What?" Henry asked.
"This can't be right," John said. "It's impossible."
"Why?"
"This place closed down ten years ago. The screen finally fell down during a showing of 'The Texas Chainsaw Massacre' - the Tobe Hooper version - and that same night the concession booth went up in flames. Owners never bothered to fix it up. Last I heard, it was full of weeds, and the only people who came out here were teenagers looking for a little privacy."
Yet the screen loomed tall at the side of the lot, and the old speakers stood like sentinels in rows in the darkness.
Just then, the clouds shifted, and the area was flooded with moonlight. A single car became visible some distance away, alone in the center of the lot. The sound of a running engine was just barely audible.
They hurried toward the car. It was an older blue sedan...a familiar-looking one. Its engine was idling, and its windows were clouded up on the inside.
John smiled, and pressed his nose to the glass. "If I were on duty, I'd have to bust 'em. Nobody in there, though."
"It's his car," Henry said.
"But this place hasn't been here for years," John replied. He shook his head. "We can't be standing here. It doesn't exist any more. Not like this. It's just not possible."
Henry shrugged. "I got the feeling sometimes when I was passing through those places that some of them...weren't completely real. Not that they weren't real places...more that they were kind of surreal, like in somebody's dream. In the subway, the token machines were really old, like when I was a kid, not like the newer ones that are down there now. It was like I was inside somebody's memory from years ago.
"When Eileen and I got back to Room 302, it wasn't like it is now. The furniture was still there, but things were changed and rearranged, like somebody else was living there. Everything was gray. I think we were seeing it as Joseph had had it, in his memory of the room...I know it sounds weird, but it was as if we were years in the past. Maybe that's what's happening here, too. Maybe James and Mary were here once, back when this place was still showing movies."
"They might have come out here sometime," Eileen said. "I used to hear him telling Frank all about the girls he'd seen at the drive-in."
The speaker box by the car popped and whistled, and the screen in front of the car flickered to life.
They saw the drive-in, but in better times. It was a warm, clear summer evening. Dusk threw long shadows across the lot. People thronged around the concession booth, talking and laughing, walking to and fro, carrying hot dogs and enormous sodas and buckets of popcorn.
A tall blond man in light blue jeans and a black T-shirt was leaning casually against one corner of the building, sipping a soda and glancing around. He was young and lean, and held his head up with assurance.
"That's James," Eileen said. "Just like I remember him."
James checked his watch and peered off into the distance.
"He's looking toward the men's room," John said. "Waiting for a buddy, I guess."
A young woman walked up to the counter next to James and asked for a soda and a small popcorn. She wore a skirt, blouse and sandals, and her long brown hair hung around her shoulders. As the soda machine hissed, she fumbled in her purse.
"Oh no," she said, frantically rummaging around.
"Something wrong, miss?" the attendant asked her, setting her soda on the counter.
"I'm...I'm sorry," she said. "I must have left my wallet at home. I can't pay." Her face was red. She put her hands up to her head. "I can't believe this..."
James moved next to her, and put his hand on her shoulder.
"Allow me," he said, throwing a couple of bills on the counter in front of the attendant. "Keep the change." The man smiled broadly.
As she stared open-mouthed, he handed her the soda and popcorn with a smile and steered the two of them away from the counter.
"Thank you," she said. "I..."
"Don't worry about it," James said.
"No, I...I'll...how can I repay you?" She bit her lip as she seemed to realize what she'd just said.
James just smiled. "Tell me your name."
"Mary. Mary Shepherd."
"James Sunderland," he replied, "at your service." He gave an ostentatious bow, and she giggled.
"Well, James Sunderland, come here often?"
"Isn't that my line?"
"Not any more." She smiled. They walked offscreen, chatting and laughing.
The scene faded to another scene. This one was in fuzzy black and white, and flickered noiselessly.
A woman lay on a bed...in a hospital. The walls were bloody, and the woman lay neglected and alone on the mattress, bare but for a single pillow. She was bruised and bandaged, and lay unmoving.
She's...
Eileen felt Henry stiffen by her side, and a moment later she realized why.
The door opened and closed, and a dark-haired man entered the room. He walked up to the bed, and crouched down by it for a moment. His hand moved to the woman's head and stroked the brown hair away from her face gently. He seemed to be talking to her. He stood and leaned over her, and placed a gentle kiss on her forehead. His pale shirt glowed ghostly in the darkness.
The man crouched again and took the woman's hand, his other hand resting on the pillow by her head. Her face turned to him, and she smiled.
There was something otherworldly about the scene, Eileen thought absently. The three of them stood like stone, eyes fixed on the screen. This was her and Henry, in the hospital, but not them...this never happened, not like this...
Then a quick movement. Something square and white flashed. The pillow was over the woman's face, as pale as the shirt back that bunched and moved as the muscles beneath pressed down with their full might. Legs kicked to no effect. Soon, their motion slowed, and then quieted.
The film snapped and popped and finally seemed to break. The screen went white, then faded to black.
The three viewers stood by the old blue car, motionless and silent. Eileen could only imagine what was going on in Henry's head.
"What...was that?" John asked.
"I don't know," Eileen said simply. "That never happened."
"I'd figured that out, but..."
"Let's get out of here," Henry said, and strode purposefully toward the concession stand. John and Eileen hurried to follow him.
The stand was just as deserted as the rest of the lot, of course. It was unlocked, and empty. Soda cups and popcorn cartons littered the floor, blown around by a slight breeze that rustled the posters on the walls and was sucked into the gaping round hole behind the popcorn machine.
"You two ready to go?" John asked.
"Very," Eileen said.
John disappeared into the hole. Eileen was about to pull herself in after him when she felt a hand on her arm.
The look on Henry's face was one she'd never seen before. His eyes were enormous. He said nothing. They stood like that for a moment, his fingers gripping her wrist painfully, until Henry dropped his hand.
"Are you..."
Eileen nodded. "Yeah. You?"
"Yeah. You know I'd never - "
"I know," Eileen said. "Later, OK?"
Henry nodded, and she headed into the hole.
The idea for this drive-in came from Brian McKay's SH1 survival guide over at GameFaqs. Since we haven't had one in the games (yet), I thought I'd put one in here instead.