The Trials

Of

Pain

SLOAN

Andrew was driving home from the bar and he was driving through Silent Hill to get to his apartment in Ashfield. He looked out the window for only a split second and he thought he saw a pack of dogs fighting each other. He took a double take and thought he had seen into a nightmare. The dogs dripping tongues were much longer than that of a natural dog. And their coats were full of mange and missing in patches. They were fighting over the carcass of their former companion. Their snouts were dripping with blood. Then one looked at him and he screamed. Not a terrified scream. He was just a little startled. He rubbed his bleary eyes and the dogs were no longer there.

He rushed back to his apartment. Sloan was cruising at 55 mph in a 35 zone. All he wanted was to go home and sleep off the booze.

Thoughts were racing through his head. His mind was always reeling back to what Charles had said. Cut through the red tape. He stroked the 5 o'clock shadow on his chin. Before he knew it his turn had come upon him so he veered right and pulled into his parking space. And put his heap in park.

He got out of his car and lit up another cigarette. He took a long drag and got walking, throwing the car door back to its rightful place. Shut and forgotten. He took the door key in his hand and got through the door. And he began to ascend the stairs when he heard metallic scrapes on the ground outside. He went to the window of the door and saw that all the street lamps were out but one.

It had a grotesque monster that was scraping its rust ridden and blood stained claws on the ground under its spotlight. Sloan's jaw dropped and the half smoked cigarette dropped to the ground.

WALTER

He listened for hours as the dogs below chowed down on the boy's parts. He had saved one piece of the child for his own pet pooch. He had the still warm heart in his hand and tossed it at Sykes, his mutt of a dog. The under dogs as he called them were nothing like Sykes. They were feral dogs he caught out in the surrounding woodlands beyond his tower. Walter didn't often venture out into the woods. He knew what was out there. The world not even God could control, the shiftings, and the monsters.

Walter watched in disgusting glee as he watched his mage ridden companion eat the heart of the most recent slaying. He chuckled a bit. Not too much as to make the moment maniacal but just enough to show his appreciation for the macabre feast being played out in the basements basement.

Walter put on his coat and called to Sykes. He had to go get some supplies down at the hardware store. He never left Sykes alone. Maybe Walter liked the company, maybe he just liked the dog to be with him for security reasons. Either way they were always together. Walter walked out the doors of the tower and heard a chorus of wails from the towers innards assault his ears. He hadn't noticed from the basement the children were crying. There were only 15 of them left. Many were dying of starvation. The locking mechanism is stuck in the east hall so 9 were dying very painfully and very soon. It's not that he actually cared about them, just that he couldn't get to their bodies to dispose of them. No doubt that ass hole Sloan would be nosing about.

The time of day never mattered to Walter. Time had forgotten him so he forgot time in turn. When he exited the tower it was fading light. The sky was grey with the fringes of pink at the horizon.

He stepped past the tower and into the woods trees looking like they would swallow him into their dark embrace. He passed through the dark woods and into the town. The people there had heard of Sloan's suspicion. The looked at him with a look that said I know. He slipped through to the hardware store. Old man Pattorsun was terrified. The figure walking through the door scared him more than the fires of hell. He staggered back and put a hand on the gun under the counter. All the people of Silent Hill had armed themselves. They hadn't planned on leading a raid on Walter but he scared the shit out of the townsfolk.

Walter passed Pattorsun and went into the section where he kept the nails. He bought a half dozen boxes and a nice new drill.

He got the money from the funds left behind by the orphanage and donations from the historical society. People had always wondered why the society donated. They said it was charity but people thought otherwise.

He bought the tools and looked into the deep blue eyes of the shop owner with his steely gaze. Pattorsun trembled at the sight of the murderer.

Walter paid for the items and broke the wretched gaze and walked out of the small shop. As he left Pattorsun slumped his way to the floor with tears streaming down his face. He now understood what he just did. He had his head in his hands and he sobbed uncontrollably and looked up. He asked God why She would do something like this to him. He lowered his gaze slightly and fixed it on the gun. He put the gun to his head and cried harder. "I'm sorry! I didn't mean to!" he shouted as he pulled the trigger and his heads inside flew to freedom upon his wall. The blood and tears mixed in a sorrowful requiem.

SLOAN

Dream sequence

Sloan was in a deep sleep and was tossing and turning. The sweat was dripping off him and was cold. His mind being plagued by the demons of the day. Walter, The zombie-esque creatures, the dogs. He saw Walter torturing the children. He had seen Walter ripping the kids apart. He remembered the cannibal dogs he thought he'd imagined. He saw himself and Walter in a dark room. Himself holding a gun and Walter bleeding. Dead. He wanted it so badly. To kill Walter. It would be all his labors sweet fruitions. His mind jumped back to what Neely said. Cut through the red tape. Then the dogs returned. The blood was slopping from their mouths. Their snouts caked in grease and gore.

Andrew awoke with a scream. His mind then adapted to the world of the waking. His head was foggy like the town outside.

He went to the cabinet to reach out to his liquid muse. Her name was apparently Jack Daniels. But occasionally went by Jose Cuervo. He made a plan. He'd decided to take out Walter. He didn't care about jail time. He took another swig from the bottle. His mind was blurred. He just wanted to do the right thing. Yet another swig. He binged on booze that night. Reality slipped in and out for Sloan. He groaned in an alcoholic slum and fell unconscious again.