Chapter Eight

With a steaming cup of coffee in one hand and a manilla file folder tucked under his arm with his free hand, Lewis made his way down the gray walled hallways of Brookhaven Hospital. Despite a dreary layer of fog that had coated the town, he was determined to keep his spirits as high as he could. Deep down he knew that it wasn't a bit of unpleasant weather that would cause his spirits to falter. No, there was something much more frightening and bothersome that existed only to torment the Brookhaven doctor's soul.

After his visit with Dana the day before Lewis had once again felt very shaken by what had happened. The screams that had come from somewhere deep in his mind had haunted him for several hours after the fact as he tried to figure out exactly why he had heard such things. From what he could tell there was no pattern to the chilling events that had entered into his life in the wake of Cassie's death. Nothing seemed to connect to each other, at least not in a way that was instantly apparent. Though a part of him thought upon the screams with understandable fear, he had decided to not let this or anything else bother him. Obviously, his mind had become so wrapped up and involved in the girl's unexplainable death that it was now fabricating whatever it will to further torment his soul and remind him of the guilt he felt for not paying closer attention to Cassie's terrified words. Believing that it was now his mind behind the whole ordeal, jumping to conclusions and making childish assumptions, made it easier to be pushed to the back of Lewis' mind.

Having a fresh stack of work certainly helped too. While an oversupply of work seldom seemed to bring comfort to anyone, it did to Lewis. It gave him something to focus his attention on, something to distract him away from anything that might hold a wisp of insanity to it. For this reason alone he was able to wear a slight smile as he traveled the hospital's grim hallways.

On his way back to his office Lewis went over in his mind what needed to be done. Usually his work load was light enough that he could easily remember what needed to be done on a given day; although he was no stranger to post-it notes. Lately though, it had been increasingly difficult to concentrate on his work, or anything other than the string of odd occurrences that had forced their way into his life. He realized that such things would bring attention out of anyone, but he didn't want it to be from him. There were just too many sane things that needed his attention right now to bother with mysterious notes and unexplainable deaths. That and the fact that he didn't want to bother with them; ever again.

Turning around the corner Lewis took note of several doctors who were standing in the hallway; talking over some matter amongst themselves while sipping on their own steaming cups. Even though these men were his colleagues, and his tenure at Brookhaven had earned their respect, he still felt some apprehension about approaching them. Recent events had forced some paranoia into him, and he couldn't seem to get over it. For this reason he decided to move on pass the doctors, giving only a smile and a gesture of acknowledgment towards them with his cup of coffee. While his intent may have been to move by them without notice, that certainly would not be the case.

"Hey Terry," one of the doctors said as he turned away from the group and caught Dr. Lewis' attention.

"Keith," Lewis curtly replied, trying to be brief yet still not rude.

"I just wanted to ask," Dr. Brennerd started, noticing Lewis' file folder in hand and not wanting to take up any of the man's valuable time, "if you had some time to sit down and compare notes on Gary Bertram."

"Gary? For what reason?" The man's name struck something within Lewis and he immediately seized up at it. At the moment a patient like Gary symbolized insanity and everything currently wrong with his life. As such, he wanted to give them as little of his thoughts as possible.

"Well," Brennerd started with a hesitation, trying to think for a moment and not cause Lewis anymore undue work. "I just thought that a fresh perspective might help in your diagnosis of Gary. Maybe there was something that I was able to catch in my time evaluating him that you might have missed."

Scratching the back of his head Lewis thought about it for a moment. Dr. Brennerd's offer did seem to make sense, which was something that was starting to occur less and less in Lewis' life. Staring back with intent eyes Lewis simply said "Yeah, that sounds like a good idea Keith. Let me check on my schedule and get back to you." A silent moment passed between the two before, feeling satisfied about the situation, Lewis turned around and headed back down the hallway; leaving Brennerd to only stand there in wonder about what could be troubling the man.

Approaching his office Lewis couldn't help but give a fleeting thought back to Gary and his visit with the man the previous day. In the wake of so much involving Cassie's death and his encounter with Christian the last thing he needed was more time spent towards a man that followed suite in causing him such emotional and mental hell. Even though Keith was trying to be helpful, the opposite was bound to happen. A discussion on Gary was bound to do only one thing for Lewis, cause more strife. Despite the fact that a wave of misgivings rested in him, Lewis decided to push Gary and everything else to the deepest part of his mind. There was just too much for him to work on to do otherwise. Besides, come the end of the day worrying about it would do nothing but cause him pain.

Reaching for his door's brass knob Lewis took in a deep breath, having finally felt beyond all of the pain and grief caused by the mention of Gary's name. There was a point that he was slowly trying to come to terms with in his mind. Cassie was dead. Christian was locked back away in isolation. And he was done with Gary for the time being. Letting himself accept these simple things was the only way that he would be able to keep enough of his sanity intact to move on with his life. This he knew to be one of the few truths left in his life. Opening the door before him he let that one fact to be the only thing on his mind. Then, he stepped through the doorway, and everything changed once again.

From the moment Lewis placed one fateful step over the door's threshold then the hair on the back of his neck stood on end. A strong sense of déjà vu came over him, although he couldn't immediately understand why. Looking around his office he searched for why a chill had run down his spine. Trying not to lose any bit of the calm demeanor he had finally rested upon only moments earlier, Lewis tried to get a grip on his feeling. The more ticks that fell away from the clock then the harder it became to keep his panic in check. Finally pushing his stubborn legs forward Lewis tried to shrug off the rush of ill feelings as he approached his desk. It was there that his déjà vu came full circle and he understood his chill's cause.

Gently placing the manilla file folder down on his desk, Lewis kept his eyes fixed on the mysterious book that had found its way into his life. Standing there with empty hands he wondered to himself what should be done next. Should he pick up the book and try to figure out its purpose? Or, believing it to be the latest demon to come into his life, should he try to ignore it all together? Somehow he knew that the latter would be impossible for him, and with a strong inhale, he reached for it.

Placing a hand on the book and slowly lifting it from his wooden desk Lewis began to take in every facet of the book. His attention had so instantly been absorbed by the book that he had failed to notice the envelope that had been placed alongside it. Brushing the envelope onto the floor, Lewis nearly jumped out of his skin as it tumbled and finally rested against his leg. Getting a grip on his nerves, Lewis slowly bent down to pick up the paper, leaving one eye to stare relentlessly at the book currently gripped in his right hand. With his left he picked up the small white envelope, and seeing the handwriting which had scrawled Lewis' name across its surface, he decided to exhale his stale breath as he realized from whom this book had come.

Carrying both the envelope and the book Lewis walked around his desk where he found his comfortable leather chair waiting for him. Easing into the office chair he studied the book's every detail. Instantly he could tell it to be an old book. The yellowed pages and the faint coating of dust gave that part about the book's identity away. Turning it over in his hand he looked at the thick jade coloring to the book's cover, wondering why it had shown up on his desk. Having examined every part of the book's exterior except the front, the Brookhaven doctor finally decided upon reading the book's title.

The History of Silent Hill: Pre-Colonial had been emblazoned upon the book's surface in bright gold lettering. Letting the title sink in for a moment Lewis wondered how this latest piece would fit into the overall nightmarish puzzle he was playing in as a pawn. Of course, the reason for this book could have been something completely unrelated to Cassie or the subsequent events in the wake of her death. Deep down though he knew this wasn't the case, as everything of recent had to relate back to that horrible incident in one sense or another.

It was at this point that Lewis' attention drifted back to the envelope that had been placed alongside the dark green book. He knew that several of his newfound questions had answers within the envelope, and yet he found a small urge that resisted having anything to do with the paper it contained. This was something he didn't quite understand. In the presence of so many unanswerable horrors why would any part of him wish denial of a chance to solve at least some of those mysteries? While his mind asked itself this question it also immediately answered it. He knew that the fear born from opening the envelope came from having no idea what it might contain. The unknown was the most deep seeded cause for fear, and it was the cause for Lewis to seize up now. Though he hoped the envelope would contain answers, he knew there was an equal chance that whatever its contents were would only help his spiral downward into a personal hell. For the next several moments a battle within Lewis' mind played out over what he should do. In the end he found himself reaching toward the envelope in an effort to try and understand why his friend had left him this book.

Carefully he slipped his fingers inside of the envelope and took the letter between them. As he unconsciously removed the letter he couldn't help feeling as though déjà vu was taking over his life yet again. The nervous caution that he was showing now was not unlike the same caution he had when Officer Simmons had mailed him back the test results from Christian's note. Swallowing hard as an image of the insane man flooded his mind again, Lewis tried his best to focus slowly on the letter his nearly trembling hands clutched close to his face. Taking in a final, calming breath he began to read.

Dear Terry,

Let me start this letter out by apologizing that I had to leave you this note without warning. After I got my hands on the book, which hopefully you found with this note, then I was hoping to discuss it with you in person. Alas our work is never done, and I had to leave rather abruptly for some business in Brahms.

Personal excuses aside, let me answer one of the questions that I am sure is buzzing around in your skull right now. The book that I have left you is one that I was able to find over at the Silent Hill Historical Society, and the curator was gracious enough to let me borrow it for awhile. Please take care of it Terry. As you can probably tell it's a rather old book, and I'd hate to have to explain to Mrs. Locane why I can't return one of her treasures to her.

Inside of the book is something which I think might be helpful to you. I went ahead and folded the page's corner, so you didn't have to flip through the whole book to find it. When I return, we can talk more about this matter.

Sincerely,

Dr. Randy Sampson

Letting the note's contents sink in, Lewis found himself with no more insight into the book's presence then he had before reading the note. Randy had given no reason why he had left the book, nor had he mentioned at all what was written in the book. Skimming over the note's wording again all Lewis could find of any substance was that the book came from the Silent Hill Historical Society, which was something that he could have figured out easily on his own. While his friend Randy was trying to help Lewis, the vague way he had gone about it did nothing to better the situation. With a sigh, Lewis decided to simply push the note aside and focus on the book itself.

Carefully picking up the jade book Lewis examined it over again. Knowing that it was a treasure of Mrs. Locane made Lewis even more careful with how he handled the book. He knew the museum curator very well, and knew that she did not welcome any sort of damage to come to her books. Still, Lewis found his fingers to be fumbling in angst as he looked for the page which his friend had marked. When he found the marked page Lewis took in a deep breath before opening the book.

Upon the yellowed page he found the title, Abenaki: The Native American Ancestors of Silent Hill, printed in plain lettering. Taking in the quality of the paper Lewis thought of how he wouldn't be surprised if someone had told him the book was written a hundred years ago. In reality the book was probably half that old. Still, being only half a century younger didn't clear up any reasoning behind Randy's decision. Reaching for his mug of cooling coffee Lewis took a slow sip before he began to read what lay before him, hoping that by doing so some of the mysteries surrounding him would be answered.

When European explorers first came to this area they were met by a tribe of warriors who called themselves the Abenaki (pronounced OBB-uh-nah-kee). From their language this translated roughly to "people of the dawn".

While the image of them is portrayed as a "warrior" tribe, this is actually far from the truth. The Abenakis were a peaceful tribe, who used their weapons only against animals when hunting food for the tribe. Along with several other tribes they formed a confederation against their deadly adversaries, the Iroquis, and…

Blinking for a moment Lewis had to refocus his mind back to the book in front of him. History had never been a favorite subject of his, and it was books like the one before him that had always put him to sleep during his school days. Back then Lewis had paid little attention to the past, instead believing that the future was where he needed to focus his efforts. As a psychologist, isn't that where he should look towards; the future? Especially for those he treated.

Recently though, his focus had been turned towards the past, at least the immediate past. His obsession with Cassie and her murder had consumed him and had forced any thoughts toward the future to be placed aside. Until he could sort out the past then Lewis seriously began to question what kind, if any, of a future he would have.

Despite the urge to read onward Lewis knew that dozing off while reading would defeat the book's purpose entirely. Randy had left this book for some reason, though Lewis highly doubted that reason to be a history lesson. Skimming ahead a few pages he suddenly stopped, and stared at the words that seemed to soullessly stare back. One word had jumped out at him, and instantly he knew that word was the reason for his friend's action of leaving the book to him.

As more and more settlers from Europe settled near Toluca Lake the more the Abenaki nation came under threat. While fights were known to happen between the natives and the foreign settlers, these fights were never documented as turning into full scale war. Still, the settlers nearly wiped out the Abenakis; all without firing a shot.

One of the problems that native tribes faced when trading with settlers was exposure to foreign diseases that their immune system could not fight.

Rampant disease led to the decimation of many tribes. The Abenakis were among those hardest hit in the New England area.

Fearing that the strange men from across the sea were trying to wipe them out, the Abenakis ultimately fled to Canada, hoping that salvation would come to them in a new land. Before fleeing they performed one of their most sacred rituals, the husha ritual. This ritual, according to descendants of the tribe, was meant as a memorial service for those lost to European disease. In the Abenaki language husha means "remember", and it was rumored that the almost surreal ritual was able to evoke the spirits of those whom had unceremoniously died.

Upon reading this excerpt, Dr. Lewis suddenly jumped out of his chair and stood straight up. Without notice several papers from his desk found their way to the floor. Ignoring the mess that his abrupt action had created, Lewis couldn't help but to wordlessly stare at the paragraph again as the hair on the back of his neck stood on end.

"Husha," Christian said in an unearthly tone.

Replaying the moment in his mind Lewis could do nothing but swallow hard as terror crept its way into him. When the mental patient had attacked him Lewis had been given no warning, nor any chance to fight back. In a blur of motion Christian had been on him, and the only thing he could clearly remember at all was that single word the man had uttered as Lewis slipped into black unconsciousness.

Now before him lay an answer. After his first encounter with Christian, Lewis had explained every detail to his friend, including the haunting word. That word must have stuck as vivid in Randy's mind as it did in his own, causing the young doctor to search out its meaning. Randy's search had brought him to this book, and this book had brought to Dr. Lewis a small clue as to what was going on.

"Husha," the doctor quietly said to himself, as though repeating it held some meaning. "Remember," Lewis said after a few minutes of silence.

Putting the pieces together in his mind Lewis suddenly found himself with another question. "What does Christian want me to remember?" That question alone chilled him to the core. Beyond that was yet another question that Lewis' mind couldn't help but wrap itself around. "How in the hell would a patient in a mental hospital be connected to a tribe of Native Americans that were wiped out more than three centuries ago?"

Letting these questions rise to the surface Lewis felt a sharp pain resonate in his skull. In response his right hand came to nurse his temple, in an attempt to relieve at least some of the numbing pain. As he did so he finally took notice of the papers strewn about his floor, and the unsettling mess that he had created.

"Damn," he quietly muttered to himself as he bent over to pick up the files from off the floor. Taking the papers into his hand something caught the doctor's attention from the corner of his eye. A manila envelope lay beside his foot, mocking him as he stared at it. Unconsciously he placed the other papers aside, allowing the envelope his full attention. As he gripped it between his hands Lewis simply walked around the corner of his desk until he once again found the comfort of his leather chair.

Sitting there, he immediately placed the envelope on his desk. This action proved to be enough to break his gaze from it. Though the address on the envelope's front seemed to blur Lewis knew full well from whom it had come, and what it contained.

Burying it under a stack of paperwork had made Officer Simmons' letter disappear for a time, but even then he had known full well that it would make itself known again just when Lewis had begun to put its existence out of his mind. As if on cue, there it lay once more.

Forgetting about the book and its revelation, as well as his skull's thumping pain, Lewis rested a hand upon the envelope. He asked himself why it had chosen this moment to reappear, but quickly dismissed the question. There was no reason behind its appearance now, nor had there ever been a reason. It simply appeared whenever it willed to.

"Terry, it's only a piece of paper," he found himself say. "Get a grip on yourself." Though these words came from his lips they certainly couldn't have originated in his mind. Despite a part of him that still clung to the last fragments of sanity within him, his mind knew full well just how insane things had quietly become. It was because of his mind that he found it so hard to grasp anything anymore.

Whether it was simply paper or not soon became irrelevant. Either way, it still sat there upon his desk before him. Running his hand along the envelope's smooth surface he just sat there and thought for a moment about the letter and Christian. With this startling new revelation about the insane man's word, he couldn't help but to draw his full self onto Christian. Unconsciously, his hand slipped inside the manila envelope.

This action, triggered by his thoughts of Christian, begged to be taken one step further. It wasn't enough that Lewis could feel the two slips of paper between his fingers. Something about Christian, the whole excerpt from the history book, and the haunting word's definition made his hand pull out both slips of paper and place them before him.

Seeing the crumpled and misspelled note once again made Lewis' heart jump into his throat. Some might have taken the opportunity to read over the note again, having time and new information feed their curiosity enough to brave a quick read. For Lewis, the situation was entirely different. Not only did he not want to read the note again, he didn't even want to see it. Giving into his only clear option, he moved the manila envelope to cover the note, before turning his gaze to Officer Simmons' letter.

Unlike the note, Lewis had an entirely different stance on the police officer's letter. Taking it gently in his right hand he skimmed it, making sure that every word was fully read over. Briefly, his eyes glossed over and he wondered why he was even bothering with the letter. Reaching the bottom he was about to put it down, before something caught his attention all over again. Thinking he might have misread something, he read over the sentences to himself.

It was found not to be ink, but in fact is blood. Type AB negative according to the tests the specialist ran.

Immediately his mind told him of how something was amiss. The letter had to have said something different before, something that would have matched up. If the letter had read like that the whole time then how could he have missed it? Unless, he was mistaken about something else.

Placing the letter back down he began frantically searching for Christian's file. Lewis knew that somewhere he had set aside the folder that his friend had given him. Only in that folder could he find the truth about something, making his search that more desperate.

Every drawer was opened and every stack of papers thoroughly looked through as his desperation grew. He just had to find Christian's file, but where had he placed it? Thinking for only a moment, he tried to remember what had become of the folder. When it came to him he nearly cursed to himself.

After Christian had been sent back to isolation then Randy had decided to help his friend put the whole matter behind him. The best way to do that was to get rid of anything that might remind Lewis about the man. Obviously, Randy had taken it back to the front office to be replaced among the hundreds of other case files. Had there been more time Lewis might have realized this earlier, but in such a frenzied panic he couldn't afford much thought, nor could he afford any self-induced repercussions now.

Throwing open the door, Lewis flew out of the room, nearly trampling a dark haired nurse in the process. As he sped through Brookhaven's hallways Lewis kept his mind focused on one thing. With that thing taking hold of his mind something else found a small corner to flourish in. Despite his focus, part of him couldn't help but to scold himself for not realizing the error before. That was, if there was an error at all. He hoped there was, that he was just remembering something wrong. That hope lasted all the way until he stood before the young, blonde assistant.

"Leslie, can you get me the file for Christian Leiters?" Lewis asked of the woman, trying his best to appear calm and sane.

"Sure, one moment Dr. Lewis," Leslie said in response as she walked over to an adjacent filing cabinet.

Flipping through the numerous file folders, Leslie couldn't help but to wonder why Dr. Lewis needed this patient's file. Christian was a patient of Dr. Sampson's, and while it was true that Dr. Lewis had recently helped his colleague on this patient, it still seemed irregular for one doctor to specifically ask patient information from another doctor's cases. Finding the specified folder, Leslie just reminded herself that her work ethic was being paid here, not her curiosity.

Taking the folder from the assistant, Lewis rushed through the paperwork, looking for that one thing which would clear things up once and for all. His heart began to thump inside his chest as his eyes moved up and down each page in search of that one bit of information. Then, he found it.

Christian Leiters: blood type B negative.

When Lewis read this his heart sunk. At first he wanted to know why he had missed the discontinuity between Officer Simmons' letter and Christian's file. Sure they were similar, but still it should have been something he had caught. Maybe the whole trauma of everything was finally beginning to take its toll. Lately he had found it increasingly harder to focus on anything, so an overlook was entirely possible.

Resting on a logical answer to his mistake Lewis began to close the file folder. Before he did so something came screaming from the back of his mind and almost made his entire self numb as it hit him. Opening the folder again he just stared back at the information sheet then thought back to Simmons' letter again. After a moment the horrifying question did not just go away, but in fact grew all the more resolute in his mind. Seizing his entire focus he could barely keep himself from asking the question aloud. If it isn't Christian's blood on the note, then whose is it?