Bit of a warning, there's a suicide in this one at the end, non-graphic.

Perhaps it was the rain fogging his vision but it looked as if the world around him was distorting, like a fresh painting splashed with water. He turned his attention to the map, studying it while rain pattered against the overhanging canopy. The corners of his rotting lips twitched in mild annoyance.

It turned out most of the roads were blocked by massive piles of wrecked cars, impossible walls or worse, a deep gaping trench that was impassable. While Mangle could easily clamber over the wrecked cars, his clumsy damaged body didn't stand a chance.

He wasn't willing to give up on it but the weather was getting worse and there were ...things roaming the fog. Things far worse than the dogs, things that stood tall and moved in jerky steps.

The map showed there was a motel nearby and while he needed no sleep it would be a place to wait out the rain and the things and he might find more information on the town.

He bowed his head, shoulders hunched while he tucked the map safely into his chest before setting out, the ever present Mangle clinging on, unfazed by the rain. The radio slept. He wanted it to remain that way. No need to break the sound of rain pattering on buildings and roads and the low groan of the wind with its crackling static.

The road was long and relatively straight, on either side stood tall trees with bare skeletal branches that waved in the chill wind. A short distance down the sloping hill gave way to a massive dark body of water, its surface choppy.

Affton paused to stare at the lake, unsure of why it gave him chills. Shaking the strange feeling off he continued down the road.

The asphalt gave way to cobblestone as he approached a park. Curious, he turned off the road and followed the path, a wide walk with neatly trimmed grass and hedges on either side that seemed strange in an abandoned town. Was there some severely bored gardener hanging around keeping the park upkept?

A short wall of chipped concrete topped by metal railing came into view. Rotting life preserves, faded and torn, lay in haphazard piles around the short wall. Turning he spotted a newspaper on a park bench.

Against his better judgement he picked it up. The edges of the damp paper were torn, ragged as if someone had ripped that section out. The ink was a little blurred but he could make out the headlines.

"Duck Boat Tragedy."

'In what Silent Hill law enforcement officials are calling an unprecedented tragedy, seventeen people were killed last night when a duck boat in which they were riding sank.

Witnesses claimed that JP Salter, the duck boat's operator, was visibly intoxicated at the time of the accident, and that negligence on his part may have led to the sinking.

"We've just begun investigating this terrible accident and it's far too soon to speculate on anything," Detective Edward Rogers told reporters this morning. "Rest assured, we will utilize all available police resources and personnel to uncover the cause."

The Silent Hill Tourism Authority has shut down all of Toluca Lake operations indefinitely…..'

Feeling uneasy he put the paper back down and turned back to the lake. Why would anyone want to save that? Did someone keep morbid stories from the paper out of some perverse fascination?

He leaned on the railing, letting the wind that smelled of damp earth and rotting things wash over him. Mangle took the opportunity to get down and nose around the bushes for a moment before joining him at the railing, the cool wind plucking at the dirty white fur.

"Too bad I don't have a ball." he muttered. The park was small but oddly well tended to and given the fox's love for chasing balls, it would have been a perfect place to engage in an old pastime.

Then he spotted it. A strange form sticking up from the dark waters, surrounded by fog. Its hull was covered in slimy algae and growth, the paint faded and chipped. It leaned heavily to the side, clearly wedged into the thick mud of the lake.

Affton felt himself stepping back from the railing. They must have been towing the boat after the accident and it got stuck in the shallows and it must have been too difficult to get it free so they left it like some sort of morbid reminder of the accident. That or maybe the lake hadn't wanted to let go of its prize.

What is that?

A duck boat.

But...it doesn't look like a duck.

William resisted the urge to snap at the AI. It's an aquatic car. They are made to cross bodies of water but it can't handle rough water. And rough water was likely the reason for the machine's demise.

He was about to turn back to the road when he saw something out of the corner of his eye, and he spun around ready to fend off what horror the fog had thrown at him only to find what he thought was a monstrosity was just a man.

The man was leaning on the railing, staring off at the lake as if he didn't see Willam or Mangle. The man's skin was rain slicked and pale, clothing rumpled. A large colorful patch of a cartoon rubber duck with blocky red letters spelling out Duck Boat under it was on one arm.

One ear twitched. It couldn't be. Affton looked around for the hidden cameras that he was certain had to be there. Either he had stumbled onto a well concealed movie set or the town's supernatural elements were messing with him.

Either way he was severely uncomfortable.

"Pretty impressive, isn't it?"

"Yeah...if you like a lot of water." he shifted in place. The man wasn't running and screaming which made him all the more uneasy.

He doesn't see you as you are but as you were.

What the hell are you talking about? Had the AI finally gone daft?

"You might not guess by looking at it, but this place used to be filled with all kinds of crazy moms and dads and tourists every summer...yeah it was a really nice place." The man continued to stare out the dark water. "Sorry, the name is JP Salter. We don't get many visitors any more, especially not security guards. Nice dog by the way."

Mangle titled its head, unsure if the words were meant to be an insult or not then decided to ignore the man since he wasn't a threat to either of them. For now at least.

Affton froze, wrecked ears twitching. Security guard? How...he glanced down at the ruined body. There was nothing that would even remotely indicate that he had once been a guard then he thought about the cryptic message. What sort of power did this town hold?

Wait, how did you know…

I just do alright! I don't know how…

"Thanks. It's...he's special. Had him for a long time. Goes everywhere with me." He leaned forward on the railing, his own gaze lingering on the ruins of the boat before turning to the dark waters below, thick fingers running through the fox's fur.

Salter fell silent for a moment." First time visitor?"

"Guess you can say that. The truck I was..driving went off the road. Been looking for a way out."

"A way out? What good would that do?" the man snapped, hands tightening the cold railing. "Sorry, like I said, don't get many visitors. Nathan Ave used to lead out but...you'd have to get out of South Vale and the only way out that I can think of is the drawbridge in Old Silent Hill. You follow Nathan Ave to South Park then to Central Silent Hill but if the roads are blocked then the only other way is to cross Toluca lake."

Affton took a moment to absorb the information. That meant he'd have to find more maps so he could access alternative routes. "You wouldn't have to know where I can find maps. I'm not from around here."

"The Texxon Gas Station might have some. It's down the road. Can't miss it." JP paused again, some unidentifiable emotion fluttering across his face. " Boy I tell you, the kids used to love that little boat."

Something is wrong.

"How about you show me? I might get lost."

"You know none of the things they say are true. The papers and stuff, the people around town, my lawyers said it was just circumstantial evidence and what not. That's what I keep telling them. "The man rambled on, almost as if he didn't hear what had been said.

"Yeah I read about it."

"Those newspaper men are god damn liars! What happened, that was just an accident. I didn't mean to hurt nobody. I didn't murder no body. Murder is a mortal sin. You go to hell for murder. Isn't that right? "

Affton froze again. Something uncurled deep inside of him, something he didn't like. It slithered around his mind like black oil, seeping into everything dredging up old memories. His hands tightened on the cold slippery railing until the joints began to creak softly. The edges of his rotten lips twitched slightly while he continued to stare at the churning waters far below, waves beating on worn and weathered rocks.

You go to hell for murder.

Is that where he was? In some sort of hell? One that he could not escape? If an abandoned town full of thick fog was hell then all those heavy metal bands he used to listen to as teen had lied to him. There was no sign of flames or manic grinning devils.

The rustle of cloth pulled him from his dark thoughts.

He turned his head to see the man climbing onto the rail, balancing precariously, the wind ripping at his clothing. "What are you doing JP?" he moved towards the man, ready to grab him while Mangle crept up on JP's other side, good eye locked on him.

" Can you imagine what it would be like, living in someone else's lie? Hee, listen to us talk, Like anyone around here gives a damn when we are the ones who decide if we can live with what we've done." The mans' gaze never once diverted from the lake.

"Relax, we are just talking. Why don't you come down?" he wasn't sure why he felt a sudden surge of concern. If the man wanted to kill himself then so be it. It was his choice after all.

Slowly he inched closer to Salter.

"And how about you? Does anyone know about your dirty little secrets?"

"Yeah, a few people know about them. My old business partner was one. Why don't you come down? It's a bit hard to talk to you while you're up there."

"Sorry. I...can't do that. Be seeing you around." with that he stepped forward, suspended for a split second in midair before plummeting.

"No!" Affton lunged forward, nearly colliding with Mangle who lunged at the same time, hands closing a second too late on thin air.

He could feel the AI's horror and his own at the sound of something heavy hitting the rocks far below with a sound not unlike an over ripe melon hitting pavement. He leaned over the railing, almost frantically searching the churning water for any sign of the man while Mangle grabbed one of the rotting life preserves, ready to toss it into the murky waters. Wet redness shone on the craggy slimy rocks.

Jp never surfaced.

Feeling numb he continued to stare at the water for what felt like several hours, the cold misty rain seeping into the many holes in the suit though he hardly felt it.

After several moments of standing motionless Mangle lightly tugged at his arm, guiding him away from the railing and towards the far end of the park, footsteps slow and heavy.