Chapter Five
A memory, a note, and now a picture. Whether some being was consciously willing it or not Lewis' small collection of insanity was growing. It was growing, and with it grew also the list of questions that raced through his mind.
Each time he had taken a step forward he had done so in the hope that with that step a piece of this horrifying puzzle would reveal itself, and another question could be crossed off his list as he longed for some understanding. None of these steps had brought him this so desired result. No, in fact if anything his grip of the situation was loosening, not tightening. With every step had come a haunting new revelation, and with each new revelation came one more crack in the already fragile barrier between soundness and insanity.
Oh what had become of his life? How quickly he had tumbled down after Cassie's gruesome death into this lowly state of despair. Sitting there with only his mind and his demons for company he kept asking the same question over and over in his mind. Was a fraction of understanding on this matter too much to be granted? Could someone not find some way to give him even the most meager of clues about his newfound hell? He felt himself to be at the bottom of despair over this matter, though even he knew he had not yet hit bottom. This he knew was the case because he had seen the depths of hell for what they truly were. Years ago he had been on society's bottom rung, and some how he had just barely been able to survive and climb back up.
Picking up this stray thought his right hand began to move up and down its smooth glass surface. Comfort could be found beneath that surface. Momentary comfort at least. Then that comfort would fade as surely as everything else did in life and he knew that he would be in an even worse state then he was now. Gripping it and drawing it nearer Lewis could hear its temptations and its assurances that it was just what he was in need of.
Slowly his eyes wandered over to the bottle and eyed the brownish liquid that swirled inside. Flicking his tongue across his cracked lips he felt another voice inside him beckon that he take a drink. Inching it ever so slowly forward the alcohol came toward where it knew it was wanted. The cold and unceasing will of the temptation had almost blanketed his being in its own greed, but finally at the last moment Lewis pushed the bottle away. It had been a long time since he had wasted his life in abuse and it had been a long time taken for him to recover. He was not about to let himself fall victim to this demon any more. Especially now that he had hope.
Hope. As Lewis placed the bottle back into his desk drawer and pulled his mind away from it he let it focus on the now almost alien concept of hope. It was a simple concept, one so much so that children seemed to cling to it without any knowledge of doing so. And while it was so simple it was also so very powerful. Many people claimed that hope was enough to push mountains and bring about anything that one desired. Hope was touted as being a good thing, an unshakable thing, and surely the best thing of all. If this were the case though then why had it hidden itself for so long from this doctor in the quiet little town of Silent Hill?
That was not entirely true. Hope herself had been present several times throughout Lewis' forty-eight years of life. She had brought him his lovely wife Sarah, the career he had so trained and worked for and wanted here at Brookhaven, plus a quiet and relaxing life in this small resort town. At least it had been a quiet life before Cassie had entered it. Since then it had seemed to be anything but. Sitting there in the stillness of his office Lewis found himself unable to do anything but simply hope that his friend and this mysterious patient of his could bring him enough hope and enough resolution to finally put an end to all this mind numbing madness.
As these thoughts entered his mind Lewis found his hand moving to grasp something else. It was a manila colored patient folder, the folder that belonged to Christian. Randy had left the folder to his care in the hope that Lewis might better understand this man and why he was the note's most likely author. Lewis had in fact read over Christian's file and all the notes that pertained to him, so much so that it had become a fanatical obsession for him. An obsession that' he felt he couldn't abandon until he finally met this man and, God willing with his help, put an end to his nightmares.
When Randy had brought him this folder he had done so with an unsettled feeling that Lewis had been able to pick up on almost instantly. From what Lewis could gather from his friend's words Christian had of one of the most disturbing and creepy mindsets that Randy had ever encountered. Knowing this he had felt the need to tell Lewis how deeply disturbed the man was and warn him about the dangers of dealing with him. Lewis had listened closely to everything his friend told him, but in the end dismissed it all and pushed ahead, blinded by everything but the small chance that this man could help in some way.
After discussing over the matter for several hours Randy had finally agreed with him that Christian should be met, but that meeting in itself was no easy matter. Three months ago there had been an incident between Christian and one of the other patients, one which had quickly become violent and had ended with injury to the other patient. For this the hospital's administrators had locked him up in the isolation ward and left him completely void of any contact other than the psychologist assigned to him, Randy.
Their decision had been the right one, of course Lewis would justly agree to that, but it did hamper his efforts in trying to speak to the man. In order for anyone else to be allowed visitation with him an appeal had to be made to which ever administrator was on call that day. If the appeal was discovered to be sound then that administrator could, and usually did, allow for it. But in that very action right there laid another problem for the two doctors; what was their excuse? Surely they couldn't tell the truth and say this matter involved a note and the strange death of a young girl; even though that's what Randy felt should be done. No, that wouldn't work at all for them. Anyone that heard this as their excuse would have the both of them evaluated, possibly even deciding to throw the two doctors into their own padded rooms. Something else had to be made up as the excuse, and being the one that had to present it forced Randy to leave Lewis' office with a sigh and a promise that somehow he would figure it out.
Not even a single moment after Randy had left did Lewis tear open the manila file folder, suddenly very eager to learn all he could about this patient of Brookhaven's. Like most of the other patients that had been sent to Brookhaven very little was known about him. His name and age were only listed because he had chosen to let these facts about him be known. Once a background check had been performed on him by the local police it was discovered that he had lived in Ashfield as a child, but records of him stopped around the age of fifteen. Other than that he was practically a mystery.
Facts about Christian's previous life were of little consequence to Lewis. While he had always felt it important to know everything he could about a patient, including their past, he simply felt that these details weren't necessary in this case. Whatever grand and simple life Christian had as a child was no where near as important as one simple fact: why he was at Brookhaven. This was the part that Lewis felt truly needed to be known and understood, and skimming through Christian's bio Lewis' anticipation of the reason behind this man's incarceration grew. Finally he found this so desired information, and he felt a surge of joy course through him, until he actually read it.
Christian had apparently been found in the woods near Toluca Lake by a group of hunters. The report went on to say that he had been found wandering about, completely naked, muttering how God had abandoned him. Upon reading this an icy chill ran down Lewis' spine, though he wasn't entirely sure why. Did he really expect this man, who had been locked away in a mental hospital and deemed insane, to present a logical story for why he was here? No, of course not. If there had been no strange and creepy story behind him then surely there wouldn't have been need to put him here. With a sigh and a simple shake of his head Lewis read on.
Not knowing what else to do with the man, the hunters had brought him back into town and turned him over into police custody. Once there he had been booked for indecent exposure and vagrancy, before being tossed into a cell.
Pausing in his reading for a moment Lewis' mind wondered why this had been Christian's fate. Did the officer's downtown not believe this man to be a victim of some sort and try to help him? To just throw him in a cell and write him off seemed to be such a cruel waste to Lewis, yet he could hardly find it surprising given the morality of Silent Hill's police force; or rather lack thereof. The local police division had quite a reputation behind them for their inability to properly handle many situations that had sprung up over the years. This probably attributed to the rash of crimes that splashed across the pages of local newspapers. And if everything that could be read were true, then who knew what was going on just beneath the surface of their quiet little resort town. There was no use in dragging anything out in the open though, everyone preferred to keep things quiet so as not to disturb the flow of tourists.
Apparently Christian had spent the next few months rotting away in a jail cell before the paper work on him had finally gone through the system. Once this had taken place the police chief had brought in a specialist to talk with the man to determine his mental state. It was after this meeting that the decision had been made to send him here to Brookhaven, where Randy had been assigned to work with him.
Going over his friend's notes on the man, Lewis immediately found one thing to stand out. Christian had been a resident of Brookhaven and a patient of Randy's for nearly three years. Being here for so long, why did he choose now to let his presence be known and so torture Lewis with it? Was there really a connection between this man and Cassie that he was unaware of? Did her death bring about cause for him to write that note and bring Lewis further down into the depths of hell? But according to Randy he had been locked up in isolation for the past three months, during which the whole of the events surrounding Cassie and her death had taken place. So how could he even have known that she had been brought to Brookhaven, let alone that she had been mysteriously and gruesomely murdered? These questions did nothing more than further confuse him upon thought, confusion that was so tangible that it was a source of pain for him. Holding his hand to his temple he decided to simply leave his questions alone until he was given the proper chance to ask them of this man.
Pushing aside the file folder and his questions Lewis sat there and took advantage of the silence that his office offered. In his mind he knew that Randy was making the appeal today, and that by the day's end he might be sitting here after having a talk with Christian. Before that happened though he felt the need to take one last moment to gather his thoughts about everything.
In honest he couldn't come up with a single thing that needed to be sorted out. Three days had passed since Lewis had pulled his friend into the nightmarish hell that seemed to be made solely for him. During that time he had come up with various excuses to get out of doing as much work as he could get away with, wanting only to devote his time to the memorization of Christian's file and the memorization of what he would say to this man when they came face to face. This memorization had taken a toll on Lewis, and he felt exhausted by it. Of course, since Cassie's death, when had he not been exhausted? That night those weeks ago seemed to be the last one in which he was given to normal, restful sleep. Now any actual sleep that he got was merely a momentary point of calm in between the crashing waves of this nightmarish reality. Was all this being done to him from some purposeful will? Was Cassie somehow haunting him to exact retribution for her death, that he felt he was surely the cause of? Going over these questions his eyelids grew heavy and slowly, ever so slowly and calmly, they slid over his bloodshot eyes. Blackness entered his mind and he felt himself begin to drift off until suddenly a knock came to the door followed by its creaking hinge.
"Terry! Terry!" Randy called to his friend as he entered the quiet office. When he burst in and saw Lewis, sitting there silently with closed eyes, he assumed that his friend had fallen asleep waiting for his return. While incorrect, this assumption was not far off, and it took him calling Lewis' name several times to rouse the doctor.
"What is it Randy?" Lewis asked as he sat up in his chair and shook off any lingering feelings of unconsciousness that still held onto his being.
"You got your meeting, Terry. Christian is being moved to one of the 'M' rooms on the second floor temporarily so you can speak to him. And he's ready right now, if you are."
This news brought new energy to the restless doctor and suddenly he found himself practically leaping out of the comfortable office chair. Standing there he could hear hope whisper into his ear about how finally the nightmare would come to an end, of how finally Cassie's ghost could be placed out of his mind for its eternal rest, and of how finally he could return to the normal life he had known before all of these things had taken place. Smoothening his white doctor's coat for a moment he simply nodded his readiness at his friend.
Randy was not so eager for this meeting with Christian, but he knew that his friend needed it. He knew that it might be Lewis' only chance to free himself of the deadening shackles which had been placed upon him the moment he had taken in the sight of Cassie's murdered corpse. He and Lewis had been friends for a number of years, best friends in Randy's opinion, and knowing that relationship they shared he knew that he had to help his friend from this pit of despair he had fallen into. While a simple meeting with one of his patients seemed a small way to be of help, Randy knew that there was nothing simple about Christian Leiters. Despite his misgivings about Christian and the ensuing meeting Lewis would have with this man Randy still felt obliged to set it up, as it was the only way he could see to do what he truly wanted in this matter; help his friend. At Lewis' nod Randy gave a nod of his own before turning around and leading his friend out into the hospital's drab hallway.
As the pair of doctors made their way down the near empty hallway not a word was said between them. They both knew the situation, though Randy probably didn't quite have as full of a grasp on it as Lewis did, and they both knew what to expect when they met Christian, except that it was Randy this time who probably grasped the situation for its entirety. Still, despite any doubts, any misgivings, any ill-feelings about it they pressed on, fully ready for whatever would come their way.
The silence lasted between the two men until they stepped onto the elevator to go up to the hospital's second floor. It was here that Lewis felt the awkward and foreboding essence that this silence embodied, and he felt that it should be ended by him before something more frightening and more drastic was given the chance. Besides this fact a question had laid dormant in his mind ever since Randy had first uttered Christian's name to him. This question he decided shouldn't be withheld any longer. "Randy," he started in a calm tone, "Why exactly do you think that Christian is the one that wrote the note? I mean, if he's been locked up in isolation, then what was it that told you he was the note's author?"
Staring ahead at the cold steel of the elevator doors Randy listened intently to his friend's question, and gave a noticeable exhale of breath when it had been fully asked. This question of Lewis' he knew was well intended, and why shouldn't Lewis be told of his reasoning anyway? Still though he found something in his mind hold back the information for one last moment. Finally though his will prevailed. "It was the handwriting Lewis, it was the handwriting."
If this simple explanation was meant to be a satisfying one then it had fallen well short of its mark. At least that was Lewis' opinion of it. For a moment he stood there and waited in the hope that Randy had something more to add. When it became apparent that his friend had hoped to end the discussion on that note Lewis simply placed his hand on Randy's shoulder and muttered his name in a tone that was an obvious plea for more to be told.
Randy's throat felt suddenly dry as Lewis looked upon him, hopeful for a fuller explanation. This explanation wasn't something that he felt he could deliver though. No, that wasn't entirely true. The truth was that he didn't want to deliver this explanation. He felt in that moment to be slipping into an unholy realm, one in which he knew would only drag him further into its depths if he were to mention Christian or the note further. It was almost as if that by denying himself to speak of them he was in fact denying their existence altogether. Deep in his being though he knew this fact to be untrue, and therefore he decided to add more to his reply.
"When Christian was first brought here he used to write all the time. Nothing of use to me or any else that might want to read it mind you, as it was all written in some strange language that as far as I know doesn't exist. While no one other than Christian knows what was written down there was something else about it that always stuck in the back of my mind. It wasn't what he wrote, but how he wrote it. The poor grammar and spelling of your note was a match to what he used to write. That plus the simple look of the handwriting itself is a perfect match." As the elevator began to slow in its ascent Randy hoped that this added information was enough to satisfy his friend's curiosity. He himself didn't feel like discussing the matter further, and due to that feeling he was surprisingly glad when the elevator came to a stop and its cold steel doors opened onto the second floor.
Stepping out of the small elevator Lewis took in the feeling that had awaited him on this second floor. To say that there was an actual presence or mood to the floor was completely absurd, yet he still felt like there was one. The mood crawled along the walls and drifted through the air with the single intent to take hold of Lewis and force him away from Christian and this nightmare. Though why would anything wish for him to not meet this man? Had his nightmare realm grow so strong and so powerful that it now bore a consciousness of its own? And in that consciousness did it too know fear, fear in fact that his meeting with Christian might cause its demise? Drifting in between thoughts Lewis continued on completely clueless of the world around him. Once the short journey between the elevator and the room marked 'M3' was completed he simply gave himself a quick shake of his head, a quick shake back into reality, before placing his hand on the door.
As Lewis reached for the door Randy took a step forward, ready to follow his friend into the depths of the insanity that Christian Leiters offered. Lewis picked up on this action right away and instead of opening the door he simply turned to Randy, looked him straight in the eyes, and said "This is something I need to do alone my friend." Randy quickly opened his mouth in protest, but closed it again in response to a raise of Lewis' hand.
To Randy he felt like Lewis needed him when dealing with this man. In fact he knew Lewis did. After everything he had gone through over the past few days he felt like Christian owed him as much of an explanation as he did to Lewis. All of these feelings and beliefs welled up inside the younger doctor, and he was full well prepared to ignore this request and enter anyway, but something stopped him. There was something in his friend's eyes that forced his acceptance of Lewis' request, and with a silent grumble he agreed. "I'll be right here," Randy told Lewis as in his mind he wished his friend luck, "In case…" he started to add, but suddenly decided that nothing more needed to be said.
"Thank you my friend," Lewis said, attempting a long unused smile, as he placed a hand on his friend's shoulder. A moment grew from this contact and suddenly the friendship that these two men had so enjoyed was once more made whole. The moment stretched on for several seconds until finally Lewis decided he should hold off destiny no longer. With an inaudible sigh he pushed the doors open and slipped inside.
The moment Lewis entered the patient room he brought his hand up to shadow his eyes. Sunlight was spilling into the room through the large windows opposite him, and as a result there was a significant change in brightness between this room and the dimly fluorescent lit hallway he had just exited. Normally sunlight wasn't a problem in these rooms as they were usually heavily curtained, but this room had been vacant for the past two weeks and all of its linens had long been stripped away for cleaning. He assumed that in the rush to bring this meeting to fruition there had not been proper enough time to redress the room and make it suitable. It was barely a bother to him though, and he pushed it aside into the pile made of all the other things that might hold him back from this destined meeting.
"I have been waiting for you," a voice said flatly somewhere in front of Lewis.
Taking a step forward Lewis saw a figure begin to take shape amidst the blinding light. "Christian Leiters?" he asked somewhat shaky.
"Yes Doctor Lewis," the figure replied, not changing intonation in the slightest. Slowly the figure turned its head and glanced at the doctor from over its shoulder. When it saw Lewis' state because of the sunlight it decided to speak again. "You'll have to forgive me doctor; I haven't been able to witness the sun's beauty for several months. Still though, that's no excuse for gluttonous indulgence." As these words ended the room seemed to change drastically, though in fact it stayed the same. The change was the sun's rays as they suddenly appeared to dim, making the scene much more bearable to Lewis' aged and tired eyes.
Instantly his mind fled through the many hurried questions that dawned on him the moment the sun seemingly dimmed, but Lewis refused to give any of these distractions an audience. He was here, finally, about to speak with the latest demon to enter his life, and he was determined to press onward unimpeded. "I'm here to talk to you about something," he found himself suddenly say to Christian, unsure exactly how he should word things in this matter.
"I know why you are here, doctor," Christian said, unmoving in both his tone and his body.
This statement knocked back Lewis' senses for a moment as he wondered how exactly Christian knew his reasons. Staring at the pale man as the sunlight was cast onto him Lewis felt to be nearly a fool when he realized where Christian had obviously learned of his reasons. "If Dr. Sampson told you why I am here then…"
"It wasn't your friend who told me why you needed to speak with me," Christian suddenly said, interrupting Lewis' thoughts and his words. "No, of this I didn't need Dr. Sampson's knowledge. I got my knowledge, and your reasons, from another source. I got them from Him."
A deathly chill ran down Lewis' spine and he felt himself suddenly back in time and facing Cassie. There was such a weight behind Christian's final word and it seemed that weight contained the same feeling and mentality that Cassie's words had contained when she described the Red Demon to Lewis. He knew that this was no odd coincidence, and for the first time he truly believed there to be a connection between these two patients.
"So you know about why I'm here," Lewis muttered, more to himself than to Christian, "And you apparently know about Cassie…"
"Cassie?" Christian said with question in his tone. "Ah, so that was her name." he added with a pleased sigh, showing the first emotion and the first sign that he was indeed human that Lewis had seen.
"You mean you knew about her death, but you didn't even know her name?" blurted out Lewis. Regretting it he knew that when dealing with this man he had to hold his emotions in check and use just a bit more tact.
"He knows not one's name, Dr. Lewis, only that one has sinned and that is it is His duty to bring about their eternal reckoning."
"He is the judge of the accused, the bringer of atonement, and the slayer of the damned." Cassie's voice whispered inside of Lewis' mind. If any doubt had been left in his mind about whether Christian had written the note and about whether he and Cassie were somehow connected, that doubt shattered in this instance. Now that he knew Christian to be the note's author and truly a part of this horrifying puzzle then only one thing was left to be asked; why. "Tell me Christian." Lewis flatly said in a tone that bordered on plea. "Tell me why you sent me that note those weeks ago."
The whole of the world froze in that moment and Lewis wondered if Christian, in his unwillingness to move, had actually been turned into some twisted statue. Slowly though the man turned to face him. As he turned his shoulder length strands of blonde hair fell away to give view of his face. The mouth on this face appeared to be nothing more than a cracked slit, the nose a simple piece of bone that flesh had been stretched over until it came to a point, and the eyes, those wide and dark brown eyes. When they fixed on Lewis panic rushed through him and he felt that if he didn't hold onto something quickly then he would plummet into their icy depths. "It was sent as a warning, doctor," Christian said in a tone so chilling as to cause a whole new wave of fear to wash over Lewis. "A warning that He knows of your sin and will come to judge you for it soon."
Inside his mind, his heart, hell everything that was beating, suddenly screamed for Lewis to exit this room and the presence of this man; lest his descent into insanity become complete. Despite all of this though Lewis somehow managed to stand his ground and wonder to what Christian was referring to. Sure Lewis knew that he was not a perfect man, that he had plenty of faults, and as such had caused plenty of mistakes, but was this not the case for all of man? Had each individual not committed a list of meager sins in their life to which they desperately tried to atone for? He had sinned, it was something he would unashamedly admit to, but he had committed no crime, no sin, that was equal to the punishment he had seen delivered to Cassie.
In that moment as Lewis reasoned within his own mind Christian looked upon him. By way of the doctor's expressions Christian suddenly knew that the note of warning had been in vain. "Yes Lewis, you have sinned." Christian suddenly said as though he had crept into the doctor's mind and stolen his thoughts. "You have sinned a most horrible sin. A sin that you cannot prepare to atone for by His hand, for it is a sin that your mind has buried deep within you. It is a sin that has been forgotten within the recesses of your mind. A sin that I must bring forth."
Complete confusion took hold of Lewis as he grew even more lost by Christian's latest words. He was about to say something to this man to try and clear things up for the both of them, but he wasn't given the chance.
The next moment happened so fast and with such a dream-like quality that no one could have believed it to have happened, let alone had the time to react to it. From Lewis' perspective the first thing he noticed was a horrible shattering noise as something fell to the ground. He didn't have the time to realize that the sound came from Christian's shackles as they slipped loose from his hands and crashed upon the tiled floor. Nor did he have the time to react as the deceivingly frail looking man grabbed him with powerful arms, wrapping one around Lewis' back and placing the other one on the doctor's temple.
"Husha," Christian said in an unearthly tone. "Husha, husha, husha." With each utterance of the word Christian's tone became softer and more calming.
Had these been merely words then Lewis might have had the chance to push the madman off of him, or at least call for help. These were more then words though, and suddenly he found a choking blackness set into his mind. With all of his strength, his hope, and his will, he tried to stave off this encroaching twilight. Desperately he fought and scrambled to find any light that he could use as a saving grace. His struggle quickly became a vain one though and finally his mind gave itself over to the darkness and Lewis lay on the room's cold floor unconscious.