A/N: One of the most
frequent complaints about Silent Hill 4 is that it has no joke
ending. Herein, two, plus a third non-joke ending, straight from the
horse's mouth. OK, well, to be fair, the last two aren't technically new endings as much as they are additions to the story. But the first is...
Chapter and story titles are all Parliament/Funkadelic song titles. No money made, no infringement intended, etc. You know the drill by now.
The author was sitting on the couch, laptop on lap, working on polishing "More Than This" for the umpteenth time when…
poke
Huh? What?
Haven't you finished that yet?
Oh, hi. No, not yet. It's a monster. It developed a life of its own. I'm half expecting it to crush my car and eat Manhattan.
You really should, you know. You've already started on a sequel. You can't do that until you've finished.
I know…but that story is stuck in plot-block purgatory for now. So the argument is moot.
And you've got all this other stuff backed up behind it.
Yeah. That's your fault. You're inspiring. All sorts of things are coming to mind.
As long as you don't drag me through all that stuff from "Washing of the Water" again …what the hell…
Hey. You asked for that. Ask and ye shall receive.
…
Oops. Bad turn of phrase. Sorry.
Yeah, not good. But yes, I did ask for that… Anyway, speaking of plots…
This doesn't sound good.
…I have a bone to pick with Murakoshi. Man made me sound like I'd just crawled out from under a rock. I don't say "what the hell" every time something weird happens, you know.
I know. I'm sorry about that.
Not your fault. I got him back a little anyway…the whole "urinating off a pole" thing was my idea. Helps to have an old college buddy working in radio.
This really doesn't sound good.
Problem is, he stuck me in these four ridiculous endings. Like any of them could have ever seriously happened.
…I didn't think they were that preposterous…
Well, given all the stuff that they left out, nothing would have seemed too ridiculous.
So, what really happened? How did you get out of there?
I'm glad you asked…
Uh-oh.
Henry slammed the metal doors shut and leaned against them, catching his breath.
What in the name of God was that?
He'd been saying that a lot lately. Never really got a good answer, though.
That's what happens when you have to shoot first and ask questions later…the questions never really get asked.
He scanned the floor, and saw a number of those dark needlenose bird things laying on the floor, flapping their wings.
Aaand once again, it's time to play Whack-A-Bat…and now, today's first contestant. From the sixty-fifth circle of Hell, otherwise known as Room 302, let's welcome Henry Townshend!
Cheesy old game shows had freaked him out ever since he's played "Twisted" on his old 3DO. Still, better to be scarred for life by a game, right? Much less personal.
Damn. Shoulda scavenged anything good from the game nut's room back at the apartment while I had the chance. Months worth of stuff there. If I get out of this.
So, one vigorous and productive round of Whack-A-Bat later, he poked his head through one of the doors leading off of the tiled room.
Looks kinda like a hospital. Like St. Jerome's, actually…at least, how it looked back when Mom used to take me there for my flu shots.
Exploration of the floor and several more swings of his axe netted him an ampoule, a nutrition drink, a first-aid kit, a paper-cutting knife (useless, of course), a handy Hole and the knowledge that Eileen was here, all right. Alive, or she wouldn't have come here in the first place. And, in one of the rooms…upstairs?
After finding out that not only had the staff lost Eileen's room key, but they'd also dropped her bag in the hallway, Henry made a mental note to patronize Ashfield General Hospital whenever possible instead.
And up the stairs he went.
He faced a long, long hallway, with unmarked doors down each side. A few rusted wheelchairs patrolled the hallway, threatening to kneecap him. He dodged them and tried the last door on his left.
Unmarked…no wonder that nurse didn't want to have to find the key. Aren't there licensing standards for places like this? And wouldn't they include numbers on the doors?
A bloody body lay on a bed with some of those tall 'shrooms growing out of it.
Lucky Jeff's not here, or he'd eat these just to see what would happen. Doofus.
A few whacks with the axe took care of them, and Henry looked down at the body, abandoned on its bed. It looked as though it had been there for days…as did the rest of the blood and dirt in the room.
Definitely Ashfield General from now on.
At least he was getting accustomed to the smell.
Something glittered in the body's hand. Henry used the handle of the axe to pry the hand open, and whatever-it-was fell to the floor with a crash. Henry bent to pick it up.
Some sort of jewel, or gem. Blue. Amazing that nobody stole it or lost it. Ah well, he doesn't need it any more.
Henry pocketed the thing and headed out the door. He shot across the hall and slammed into the door across the way.
Locked. With my luck, it's the only one, and probably the one that I really need to get into. Figures.
He continued down the hallway.
Some time later, he and Eileen ran as fast as they could down the path toward the old orphanage. Which meant, of course, that Henry ran to the gate, then waited and swatted at demon dogs as Eileen hobbled as quickly as possible.
"Henryyyyy…you're going too faaaast," she whined as she limped along.
He gritted his teeth and brought his torch down onto another pink hound's mangy back. It screamed as the flames singed off what little hair it had left, and the smell of burning flesh filled his nostrils Finally, she was there, and they both squeezed through the gate.
Henry made his way to the burned-out building. A note lay on the ground.
Something's here but nothing's here. Doesn't make sense, but there you are. I feel something from the stone…something's buzzing…what's that flying over…It's a bird…no, it's a plane…no, it's…Aaaaaaaahhhh! It has begun!
"Oookay," Henry said to himself. "Why'd he bother to write 'Aaaaaaahhhh!' anyway?"
He pocketed the Holy Candle that sat untouched on the burned-out foundation, and peered at the life-size charred torso in the wheelchair. It seemed to be missing its head, so he fastened on the wooden head in his pocket and read the attached note.
Though my body be destroyed, I will not let you pass here. Neener neener neener.
Anyhoo, to prepare for the Receiver of Wisdom…I cut my body into five pieces and hid them in the darkness. When my body is again whole, the path to below will be opened. If you are the Receiver of Wisdom (that means you, Henry), you will understand my words.
Everybody else can squeeze my left nut.
The ritual has begun…
Henry did the math. Two arms, two legs missing…
Oh man. One more. Don't tell me he was serious about that left nut business…
Then, he remembered that he'd just added the head, which made a total of five. Thank God.
Eileen was just hauling herself up to him. "What'd I miss?"
"Can you stay here for a few minutes? I have to find the rest of this thing's limbs. Just sit tight. Read the stones or something, they might be helpful. I'll be right back."
"Henryyyy…I can't stay here by myself…I'll be cursed, I know it…Henryyyy…don't leave me alone…"
But he was already gone.
Twenty minutes and a whole lot of monster-related nastiness later, Henry popped the last arm onto the figure in the wheelchair. It lifted its head, opened its mouth, and rolled back and forth for a little bit before falling off of the side of the foundation. The figure collapsed out of its chair, and lay there motionless.
Two handles flanked the opening of a trapdoor. Little red letters were written on it.
"Eileen, can you read these?" Henry asked.
She peered at the writing.
"Yeah. It says, 'Abandon all hope, ye who enter here.' How cliché."
He hauled the doors up, revealing a small staircase below. As he was about to take his first step down, he felt a buzzing in his pocket.
Dammit, Josh, I don't have another twenty bucks for you right now. Get a job. Deadbeat.
Waitaminute…I don't have a cell phone…
His hand found the source of the buzzing, and he pulled the blue jewel from the hospital from his pocket. It was flashing blue and white, and warmed his hand as it lay in his palm.
He turned it over. On the silver metal backing was a bail for hanging, and a small inscription.
"Eileen…"
"Yeah, read this, I hear you," she said. "Hmmm…oh…oh my…uh, where did you get this again?"
"In the hospital, right before I found you. Why?"
"Uh..."
"Eileen, please. Just tell me."
"Henry, this says 'my left nut' on it."
"Figures."
Just then, a humming sound came from overhead, growing louder. Henry readied his axe in case a Super Ginormous Brain-Sucking Bat or something was on the way, but after a moment he realized that whatever was making the sound wasn't nearby.
"Check it out," Eileen said, pointing overhead.
Flying over them was a single small light. Henry squinted.
A round, white disc with a lump on top. Looks like…
"A UFO?" Eileen asked.
Henry shook his head. "Nah. Too weird."
She raised an eyebrow at him. "Too weird for this place?"
Henry thought back to the lighthouse in Silent Hill, and the rumors he'd heard…
"…you're right. Never mind. Let's get out of here."
To Henry's great relief, he'd managed to drop off Eileen in one of the cells on the third floor of the cylindrical prison. Having to wait for her butt to catch up was almost getting him killed. Hell, Walter had almost plugged him point-blank as soon as they got out of the elevator that had brought them there, because Eileen couldn't get down the little stairs fast enough.
"Sorry, gotta get to the basement. It's the only way," he said, shrugging.
"But Henryyyy…it's so damp and gross here…"
And down the hole he went without a second thought.
Back in the basement, he was relieved to find only armies of zombie mushrooms. He readied his axe, swung it in a circle, and let it carry him round and round as he cut through them all like a dervish. The ensuing dizziness was a small price to pay.
Upstairs in the guards' rooms, the wheels that turned the floors were rusted into place. So, nothing doing there. Still, he found a little leather nightstick that Eileen should be able to handle, even with one hand and a bum leg.
At least she's good at swatting at things. Not completely useless. Annoying, though.
Some time later, he had cleaned out the first and second floors, and was on his way back up to collect Eileen when he remembered the sluice gates on the roof.
May as well check to see if anything's going on up there.
No, the roof seemed pretty deserted. Water was still flowing from an unknown source through the open gates. Walter was presumably running up and down the spiral stairs shooting at bats, or something. Henry leaned back against the wall by the door and took a personal minute.
I am SO getting a case or two of Sam Adams when this is all done. And getting the hell out of South Ashfield Heights. And if Sunderland says a single word about me breaking my lease, I'll show him just where he can stuff it…and give him the choice of steel pipe, broken wine bottle, paper knife or pickaxe to do it with.
…and there was that damn buzzing again. As he reached into his pocket, Henry remembered Eileen's translation of the inscription on the blue gem.
I hope to God that I'm the only guy on Earth running around with three.
The gem pulsated as it buzzed in his hand. Then, he remembered what had happened the last time it had done its thing. He briefly considered running back to the door in the middle of the pool of water, but realized that if it had become locked, he'd be a sitting duck. He shrank back against the wall and waited.
Three of the round white objects flew over the tower. They paused directly over his head, and Henry realized that he was being watched. It creeped him out thoroughly. Just as his skin was preparing to crawl off of him, the objects flew off.
This is getting worse.
Henry opened the double doors and crawled back down the ladder to fetch Eileen.
Eileen had, actually, proved moderately useful with the nightstick. As the two of them ran down the nearly endless square staircase, she held her own against the needlenose bats, and Henry got away with only a couple of nicks and scrapes.
Thank God she didn't have one of her insane gobbledy-gook spouting fits on the way down, he thought, or I'd have had to drag her along with me all the way.
He went to the door at the bottom and pocketed the first-aid kit that lay by the door.
Hmmm…this doesn't bode well for whatever's on the other side.
He chugged a nutrition drink (PowerFudge SuperQuick. Tastes like sludge, but does the trick, which was truth in advertising if ever he'd seen it) and leaned casually on his axe as Eileen hobbled over to him.
"Nice job," he said.
"Thanks," she smiled. She swung the nightstick from its strap. "Just wait until old man Sunderland gets within range of this. None of this was in my lease agreement…how about yours?"
"Nope. Suppose it wouldn't look good in the ad in the paper. 'One-bedroom, one-bath apartment, furnished. Amenities include washer and dryer, refrigerator, and fully integrated hauntings with alternate dimensions, hellbeasts and chainsaw-wielding madmen. Rates reasonable.' "
She looked at him oddly. "One bedroom? I have two…maybe yours are larger."
"Now that you mention it…everybody else's places looked bigger than mine. That's weird…"
Before he could think on that further, a familiar buzzing erupted from his pocket. This time, the buzzing was louder, more insistent, as if the gem was trying to communicate something. On its back, the words had changed to something readable.
Dead yet?
Henry grimaced.
Oh great…it's obnoxious and stupid. Just what we need…a smartass.
And there was the noise again. It echoed down the tall stairwell. They could just barely see what seemed to be a fleet of the round things hovering way at the top.
"Let's get outta here," Henry said. He pocketed the gem and opened the door.
The room beyond was almost engulfed by a deep, rectangular pit. Strange music played, and the walls were hung with cloth. A door like the one they'd just passed through was visible on the other side.
That would be too easy, but I've gotta try.
As Henry started toward the door, an enormous golden figure slid down the wall on a frame, reached out a long arm toward him and smacked him hard. As he flew ass-over-teakettle through the air, he saw more of them slide down the walls, all around the room.
Oh…man…I hate – WHUMP! -- being right sometimes.
He picked himself up and dusted himself off, and started swinging his axe at the nearest one. It jerked, but did not die. Eileen started in on it with her nightstick, but even the two of them couldn't kill the thing. As the rest of the wall people swung at them, the one they were working on slid back up the wall with a groan.
Something's wrong here…
Wait…what was that in that note? Something about the One Truth? A single Truth…and there are what, a dozen of these things?
Maybe I'm hitting the wrong one.
"Let's try the next one!" Henry yelled above the din. He pulled his axe back as the one on his right slid back up the wall, and walked over to it, readying his swing. After several seconds, it slid back down the wall, and Henry let fly.
The others kept swatting at him.
"Next one," he yelled. Eileen nodded.
The third time was the charm. As the thing slid back down the wall, Henry let fly again, and all of the wall men jerked in pain. Eileen's nightstick connected with it, and the same thing happened.
"This is it! Keep going!" he cried. The axe swung back and forth, and the nightstick smacked hard. After what seemed like forever, the figure gave a final spasm and collapsed. All of the men slid back up the wall, and they heard the click of a lock.
Eileen was panting for breath.
"What was that?" she asked.
"If I'm not mistaken, that was the One Truth," Henry replied, leaning on his axe to catch his breath. "Just like Joseph said."
"So…now what?"
Good question.
Then, Henry heard that humming noise again.
…and I think we're about to find out.
Rising through the rectangular hole in the floor was an enormous object. Looked just like the ones that they'd seen overhead, but up close it was…well, it looked like those old spaceships that he'd seen on "Twilight Zone" episodes way back when. Or like the ship from "The Day the Earth Stood Still." Or like the P-Funk Mothership.
The perfect ending to the perfect day. Being kidnapped by the clones of Dr. Funkenstein.
The ship hovered over the hole, rocking gently side to side. A door slid open on one side. Henry half expected to hear "Doo-DOO-doo, doo, doooooo…." play, but instead the only sound was the hum of the ship's engines.
A walkway slid out smoothly from under the doorway.
Ba-BAAAA! Horns blew, as if announcing something. Nothing happened for a long moment. Then, a small figure appeared silhouetted in the doorway. It paused, then started down the walkway.
Grays? How predictable.
Then, a second figure appeared. Human! As it followed the alien, Henry saw that it was a teenage girl, in a miniskirt, vest and boots, with messy blonde hair and freckles. She was followed by a dark-haired man with a brown jacket and dark pants, then by a taller, blond man in a military jacket and jeans.
Eileen grabbed his arm as they watched the figures approach. "Henry…"
"I know," he said. "This was the last thing I was expecting."
"No, that's not it," Eileen said. "Look at the last guy. Doesn't he look kinda familiar?"
Henry peered. Something about the man's face, his carriage…but he couldn't place it…
The girl stopped in front of them. She smiled at them.
Seems human enough.
"Hi, guys," she said, holding out her hand. "Name's Cheryl Mason. Pleased to meet you."
"Uh…hi. I'm Henry, Henry Townshend, and this is Eileen Galvin."
"This is my dad, Harry Mason, and our friend James Sunderland."
"Sunderland?" Eileen asked. "Wait…are you…"
James nodded. "Yeah. Frank's my father. I really should apologize for all that you've had to go through because of that damn apartment…"
Henry found himself saying, "Hey, it's not your fault…is it?"
Harry Mason laughed. "No, it's not his fault. Actually, that's why we're here." His voice was strange somehow. And, now that Henry thought about it, he was weirdly…well, there was no way around it. Harry Mason was really, really…pointy-looking.
"We've been watching you," Cheryl said. "We've seen everything that you've been through. And we're here to do something about it."
Henry's mouth opened, then he closed it as he realized that he didn't know where to start.
"Long story short, we're on our way to blast the living crap out of what remains of that damn cult. We'd like you to join us."
"You…are?" was all that Henry could manage.
"As she said," James continued, "long story short. We'll catch you up on the way. Our friends here," he said, indicating the alien that stood beside them with a wide grin, "can get us these very fast, but we'll take our time. No rush."
The alien gave them a double thumbs-up.
"No rush?" Henry spluttered. "We've been spending the last several hours trying to get the hell out of whatever nightmare this is. We've nearly gotten killed more times than I can count, Eileen here is starting to spaz out big-time -- "
"Hey!"
"Sorry – and Walter's going to show up any minute now with his damn chainsaw and slice us in half unless we get moving. No rush?"
"I'm sorry about that, Henry," Harry said. "If we hadn't been in such a hurry last time, we'd have finished the job. But he wasn't around there, and we didn't know about the mummified corpse in your apartment until just recently…"
"The WHAT?"
"Look who's spazzing now," Eileen muttered.
"Why don't you two come on inside? We'll explain everything," Cheryl said. "We can patch you up as good as new. And these aliens make the best double-chocolate fudge that I've ever had."
"…Did you say, fudge?" Eileen asked.
"Double chocolate. With chips." Cheryl grinned.
Eileen shrugged. "Why not, Henry. Beats this place."
Henry looked at her. Her skin was crawling with reddish swirls…and he could still taste the remnants of the nutrition drink in his mouth. It didn't improve with age.
"Sure. I could use a few answers. Just promise me one thing…"
"What's that?" James asked.
"Tell me that we're going to take Walter out of the picture completely. Blow his undead butt to Kingdom Come and beyond."
James grinned. The alien next to him whispered something to him.
"He says they'll even let you push the button."
Oh…my…God.
What do you think?
Are you trying to tell me that that's what actually happened?
Yep.
You have got to be joking.
The fudge was quite good.
I'll bet it was.
What's that supposed to mean?
I don't know. I just get this feeling that you're pulling my leg.
Yeah. Yeah, I am. Gotcha.
Asshole.
Still, it's a lot closer to the truth than anything that actually ended up in the game.
That bad, huh?
Eileen's not really that whiny, actually. She's very nice. Just having a really bad day.
Makes sense.
The nutrition drinks do taste like toxic waste, though.
I'll take your word for it.