CHAPTER TWO
"Forest"

I took each step down, one by one. I had to, for the fog was much thicker down here. I couldn't see more than four or five feet ahead of me. Tripping over myself and taking a nasty ride to the bottom was a distinct possibility.

After what seemed like an eternity, my feet found themselves planted on soft soil instead of hard concrete. Visibility was horrendously low, and the only sound was the soft swirling of the wind, and the soft rustling it made as it passed through the tree branches and bushes. I started to walk along the path, treading carefully.

If you've ever walked through a really thick, nasty fog, you'll know that it makes seeing things quite difficult and it's not just because the fog itself conceals everything. It's made worse by the nature of fog itself. Fog is blurry. Fog makes everything appear ghost-like. For me, even looking at a blurry photograph can do it. It didn't take long for it to start the coming of a nice headache. I actually didn't completely mind that, the pain would help me focus.

Down the nature trail I went. The soil was sandy and damp, and a few times I got my foot caught a bit, or slipped. To my left was foliage of all sorts, bushes, many pine trees, a few broad-leaf trees that were in full despite it being so cold. To my right was a very steep drop-off, a cliff that likely would take me right into the lake if I were unlucky enough to fall over it. That thought compounded in my head once I noticed that there was a complete lack of railing. How ridiculous it was to not have any here, I thought. Once some kid takes a tumble and kills himself, I bet they'll be up here faster than you can say "whoopsy-doodle".

Suddenly, I heard something. I immediately came to a halt and cocked my ear. The most prevalent sound was the hollow, soft moan of the winds blowing from the direction of the lake. For a good minute I stood there like that, but I heard nothing else but that. I relaxed a bit, and started walking again.

Not even three paces forward, I heard it again, and much more distinctly this time. A harsh rustling sound was coming from the trees. I wanted to believe it was just the wind taking out a weak branch here or there. At first I believed it even as I listened to it, but something was wrong. It was too deliberate, too evenly-spaced. I tensed, and I was sweating even in the chill.

I think it was the growl that did it. There was no mistaking what that was, and though I couldn't say with any certainty what was making the sound, I could say with complete certainty that I did not want to find out. Something large and nasty was stalking me, and I heard it too clearly now to ignore it. I thought it sounded like a dog. My nerves were completely on the edge now, perhaps more so than ever in my whole life.

That's when the growl suddenly intensified. It wasn't just an animal sound now, oh no. Now it was slavering and slobbering. It sounded like it was very hungry and possibly eager to perhaps take a bite out of this intruder. I couldn't even begin to see what it was, but unfortunately my mind was very helpful in creating a few imaginative possibilities for me. My nerve completely broke, and I ran yelling, in a total panic.

In my terror I forgot several things, notably the visibility, the poor footing, and how close I was to the edge of oblivion. My right foot got caught in the soft dirt and I overbalanced. I shot out my right arm to soften the blow, and it did that, but it also made me roll to the right unexpectedly. I just lay there, moaning, waiting for the beast of the hills to come get his happy meal. I lay there for a very long time, too terrified to open my eyes. I was certain that when I did, I would be staring into the eyes of something with huge, sharp teeth… the better to eat you with, my dear.

However, it seemed as though the growling had ceased, and I heard no movement nearby. I didn't hear anything at all, save for the ever-present wind. I had broken into a sweat, which made the cold wind feel colder. I shivered as I waited for my heart to stop beating at five hundred per minute. It seemed an eternity had gone by before I was finally able to screw together what little courage I had left and forced my eyes open.

I did not see the eyes of a monster from hell, but what I saw was frightening enough. I was staring straight ahead into nothingness. My acrobatics had landed me about two inches from the edge of the path. I looked down the slope and saw where the rocks and dirt faded into the fog, perhaps a dozen feet down. Two inches from me and a free-fall into nothing. I felt surprisingly calm about it.

I stood and brushed myself off, feeling like an idiot for panicking over nothing. I started back down the path, and the embarrassment I felt was surprising. There was no one there to see me, so why feel embarrassed? The feeling did help me focus myself though, and I started to better get the hang of walking on the soggy terrain. I did not hear the growl again. I wondered if I ever really had.

It brought to mind a story I had heard as a child about a monster called a wendigo. The wendigo was a beast that tormented those who traveled alone, without ever showing itself, until it drove them insane with fear. That being done, it would then attack and devour the hapless fool. Certainly seemed to fit here. It wouldn't even have to put much effort into driving me crazy. After all, if I had all my marbles, I probably wouldn't be here in the first place.

After perhaps a half-mile or so, the path turned from the cliff and onto soil that was much rockier and more firm. At this junction was an old well, which looked just a little too creepy for me to worry about. I've always had a fear of holes, you see.

A few more paces and a large wrought-iron gate appeared out of the fog. It had no lock, and there didn't appear to be any branches in the path, so I pulled it open. It did not give easily. It was old and scaled with rust. When it gave, it gave grudgingly and with ample noisy protest. I finally squeezed my body through the gap and continued on.

The path quickly became a clearing, and the clearing wasn't empty. There were shapes sticking up out of the ground, and as I approached them, I realized that they were headstones. I was in a cemetery. What a place for a cemetery, this close to a cliff.

I inspected the headstones. Most of them looked really old and well-worn. I could tell by the inscriptions on some that they dated back over a hundred years, and I assumed that the ones faded beyond recognition were older still. I didn't see one with a bereavement date more recent than 1967, belonging to one Ronald Harris, Jr.

I heard movement again, and it made me jump. This weird, foggy town with the unseasonable Christmas weather was bad enough. I didn't need strange noises in a cemetery, of all places. But unlike my slavering stalker on the trail, this noise had a visible source.

A figure knelt among a group of head stones. I had to move closer to recognize any features. It turned out to be a woman dressed in a cream sweater and red pants. She heard me approaching, and she must have been as edgy as I was, because she leapt up with a gasp of shock and a frightened look on her face. She backed away from me, and she really looked like she didn't expect anyone to find her here.

"I'm sorry!" she yelled, "I wasn't doing anything, I was just…" She was in near-hysterics. Her skin was very pale, and I wondered if it was a reaction to being frightened, or if she just never got any sun.

I placed my hands up, trying to calm her down. I didn't understand what had her like this. "Hey, easy, it's alright. I didn't mean to upset you." She didn't say anything, but instead gave me a look that told me too late, you've already quite upset me.

"Hey, take it easy," I said, as soothing as I could manage. "I was just on my way to Silent Hill, but I think I'm a little lost."

The girl cocked her head at me, as if trying to understand. "You're lost?"

"Yeah", I said, "The road into town is blocked off, so I came down this trail instead."

"There's a road up there, it's the only one. You can't miss it." She was pointing to the left.

I thanked her, and started off in that direction. She tugged on my arm.

"What's up?" I asked her.

She paused for a moment, and damn me if she didn't almost look ashamed. Finally, she gathered herself together.

"I think you ought to stay away from Silent Hill," she said, "There's something not right about it."

I had already gathered as much, but I didn't want to insult her. Besides, there could be more to it.

"Is it dangerous?" I asked her.

"Maybe," she said, "and it's not just the fog either, it's…"

I held up my hand to stop her. She was obviously very uncomfortable with my presence, her speech was halting and very careful, and she fidgeted. I wanted to leave her alone.

"I got it, I'll be careful," I said. Apparently I sounded a little more curt than I wanted, for she appeared to be insulted by my interruption.

"I'm not lying!" she told me.

"I believe you," I said, and I really did. "It's just that, I don't really care if it's dangerous. I'm still going to town."

Again I came across the wrong way. She looked hurt.

"I'm sorry I sounded so short with you," I said, "There's someone here I need to find, someone very important to me. I'll go through hell to be with her again." Oh, how true that was.

She seemed a little relieved. "I'm looking for someone too, my mama… I thought she'd be here, but she isn't."

In a cemetery? How odd. I thought.

"I thought for sure my father and brother would be here, at least," she continued, "But I can't find them either." She must have seen the strange look on my face, because she stopped, and that odd look reappeared on her face, that sheepish look that suggested she had done something bad. "I'm sorry, it's not your problem," she finally said.

"It's alright," I said, feeling somewhat relieved that she had stopped. "I hope you find them."

"You too," she replied, and turned away from me.

What a surreal meeting that was.

I waved goodbye to her, silly as she wasn't able to see, and then I started walking in the direction she had pointed to. The fog was even thicker here, and I had to use barriers to guide myself.

I first came to a small pond, which had reeds growing out of the water. I followed that until I came to a short wall. Following this led to another wrought-iron gate, which seemed to be the way out. Next to this gate stood what appeared to be the groundskeeper's quarters, or maybe a mausoleum. It was small, but imposing nonetheless, and it could have just been my imagination, but I was getting some sinister vibes from the place. I decided to ignore it, and continue though the gate to the town.