Seven: Monson Street.
Myron's journey continued down Rendell, with little or no change in his situation. The ever-present fog seemed to compress Myron's body, pressing against his skin like a chilled blanket.
He stared into the smoke and filth tinted windows of the stores he passed, examining groups of half-naked and damaged mannequins. For some reason, he couldn't shake the feeling that he spied movement amongst the figures, as if the black smudges coating the glass bestowed some unnatural life on the immobile figures.
Aside from the storefronts filled with mannequins, several windows had been shattered. They had exploded outward in some cases, and beyond them it seemed the stores had been gutted by fires. Perhaps during the initital burning, these stores had been destroyed.
Soon enough, Myron reached the next intersection. He intended to make a rectangular path, working upward and around, back to his camp. On the corner to his left, an old burger joint could be found. The Burger Queen, a popular chain in the region, but usually ended shot down by a larger chain nationwide.
To his right, a row of old, abandoned boutiques loomed over the street, their soot-stained windows covered with anti-theft mesh, and their doors heavily barred. Again, one seemed to have been gutted by a raging fire, leaving it's windows shattered and empty, like hollow eyes staring out onto the fog-shrouded world.
Myron opted to turn left, heading north onto Monson Street. He would begin his loop back around toward his encampment early, as the fog had begun to wear on his energy. The cold sapped his strength, and made him almost queasy.
Monson seemed to be mostly residential, lined with small apartments, scattered houses of undetermined age, and a few small, comfortable shops here and there. A Laundry, a Bakery, a Toy Store. All abandoned, all empty and dead. It disturbed Myron that, since his arrival, he had seen only one of the supposed "Drug Addicts" that infested the town.
Certainly, the strange red paper had been evidence of someone doing SOMETHING in the town, but otherwise Myron had felt completely alone. Well, physically alone. He couldn't quite shake the instinctual, almost primal sense that he was being watched.
Again, he came to an intersection and halted. According to his map, the turn he wanted was further north, the next available left. On his right, at the corner, stood the Blue Creek Apartment Building, one of the largest apartment buildings in the Old Part of Silent Hill.
According to his information, it had been sparsely occupied before the town was abandoned, and was likely already falling into disrepair. From the rusted fence enclosing the structure, the boarded windows and the padlocked metal door he could see, it certainly seemed as if that were the case.
Myron started past the apartment building when something caught his eye. Something white, sitting on a table in what passed for the building's lawn. The area was mostly a patch of dirt with a sidewalk and patches of ratty grass, with an old picnic table at it's center.
Myron squinted through the haze and approached the fence, almost pressing his face against the mesh to try and make out what had caught his attention. And then he realized what it was: A doll. A Child's doll, made of ragged cloth and buttons for eyes. From the color, it must've been made from sheets, or a pillow case.
Myron retrieved his phone once more and stepped back, placing the doll squarely in frame and taking a digital photo. Another great promotional image, to be sure. At this rate, he might be able to have an entire chapter of the book devoted to the imagery of "Ghost Towns"...