Cole studies the wounds on his right arm and left hand, his brain pining desperately for an explanation. The acidic abrasions have already scarred over, leaving his skin clean and free of pain.
"Impossible…" he stutters, failing to comprehend this happening.
And where the hell was he? Fluffy pillows, silk bed sheets, stone walls, stained glass windows, angelic statues; a chapel of some kind surely, but how did he get here?
Every fibre of his being aches as he pulls himself away from the bed and onto his feet. He picks up his shoes and in finding a cockroach within, nearly jumps out of his skin. It lands on the floor and scuttles away under a gap in the floorboards. Cole recalls the mutated creatures he had seen, and surroundings that had looked the plains of hell itself.
There was an obvious explanation. His fear of the water had gotten to him, leading to loss of consciousness. The images he saw were nothing but a dream, nothing like that could exist on earth. Someone found him on that beach, out cold, and dragged him to this bed.
He throws on his coat and exits through the oak door, leading him into the main chamber. A carpeted isle divides multiple rows of pews, until meeting a few short steps leading up to an altar of white marble. On the walls, beautiful hand-painted images and tapestries hang. Lanterns are fixed to concrete columns dotted around the room, providing the church with a warm, amber glow.
A frail looking woman emerges from the shadows and places her hands on the altar, studying a book and murmuring some kind of prayer.
"Excuse me, I…"
"You don't have to thank me," she says, looking up at him, "For rescuing you,"
"Oh yes… I do appreciate your help. Tell me, what is this place?"
"This is where I come to talk to him,"
"Him?" oh of course, this is a house of God, "Are you the only one left in town?"
"No!" she exclaims, "Now you're here too,"
A side door creaks open, Detective Jones emerging, "Doctor Cole!"
Cole's brow shuffles, "You?"
"I've been looking for you all over town," Jones says.
The woman at the altar seems taken aback all of a sudden.
"I thought this case was closed, Detective?"
"It
just got reopened…" Jones notices the woman, "Hey, you
again!"
"You've already met?" Cole asks, "She hasn't
told me her name yet. Who are you?"
"Hmm… You're a strange one,"
"I just want to know your name,"
"I told you already, it's Myshella,"
"So you've have met?" Jones asks.
"No,
this is the first time I've seen her. Woke up and here I
was,"
"Yeah me too. You dragged us both out here, lady?"
"You ask… some strange questions," she replies, returning attention to her scriptures.
Cole and Jones exchange baffled glances before continuing.
"Now that I've found you both," Jones says, "It's time for us to leave,"
"Oh, you can't leave,"
"Can't leave?" Cole questions.
"Didn't you listen to me the first time? Only the dark one opens and closes the door to Silent Hill,"
A thought suddenly strikes Cole, a huge piece of the jigsaw. Jack and his crazy story, wanting revenge upon God, agents dressed in mechanics uniforms and now this, a crazy nun alone in the town of Silent Hill. There had to be some connection.
"Are you sure you're the only one here?" Cole questions, "You haven't seen anyone else have you?"
"Those that remain on the borders remain there for a reason. They wouldn't dare enter this place,"
"I've seen someone," Jones says, "Before the crazy bastard attacked me with a pipe,"
"You were attacked?" Cole questions.
"Yeah, a guy wearing overalls, his face was covered so I didn't really see much,"
With
a piercing gaze, Myshella shoots up from the book, "Heathens! Do
not speak of them in this holy place!"
"So you lied. There is
someone else here," Jones says.
"They… never enter the town," Myshella replies, turning away from the men.
"Who are they?" Cole asks, becoming further intrigued.
"Murderers, deceivers," she snaps, "Their words are poison, you must not listen,"
"I don't think that's gonna be a problem," Jones replies, "They didn't seem intent on talking,"
"They must have been desperate to enter this place," she begins to laugh, staring hard at the men, "I guess there's more to you than I realised,"
"Okay, this has gone far enough," Jones declares, "I'm taking you both back to Brahms,"
Cole's face shifts from intrigue to concern. Myshella smirks at the Detective's blind enthusiasm, "Leave, I dare you to try. You'll only be wasting your time,"
She quickly moves over towards a door at the end of the room.
"Hey, stop right there!" Jones demands.
She halts and without looking says, "He likes to move around. The lighthouse will guide the way," and with that, she's gone.
Jones runs up to the door but to his dismay, it won't even budge.
"Hey, give me a hand with this, Doctor…"
No reply. Jones whizzes around to discover he is alone again.
"Shit!" he cries, damning his carelessness.
Prioritizing, he makes for the front door, in pursuit of Doctor Cole. Next time, he'd have to get the handcuffs ready.