He was crying- she heard him clearly, and that was what led her to him- even though everything was wrong and so far away, she still found him-

She knew it was bad because he was crying- he was the oldest of them- he always tried so hard to be mature, to be adult- he always tried never to cry-

She found him, and the room was dark, curtains pulled tightly tightly shut, so she couldn't really see anything but his silhouette- he was trying to talk to his momma, but she couldn't make out what he was saying- but that wasn't the most important thing anyway.

The room was filling up with something- something like air but wrong, wrong and hurting him.

It wasn't hurting her though, and that was wrong too- the things that hurt him were supposed to hurt her too, because they were the same- but there wasn't time for that.

The wrong air was hurting him really bad, so they needed to get rid of it. Things weren't right, were too far away- but she was with him again and that was right-

The windows were shut tight- she flung herself at them- forcing them open, some of them breaking and shattering as the curtains flapped madly-

The bad air started going out, but not quickly enough for her- she went back to him- then she noticed that his mom was in the room- she glared at her as she went past. She didn't like his mom- she made him feel bad all the time for no reason- she was a bad mom, and she hated her for making him feel bad. She wished the doctors would've kept her locked up…but if they had, maybe his daddy wouldn't have brought him here, and maybe they never would have meet- and that was too scary to think about-

And now he was still feeling sick from the bad air and his mom was just sitting in her chair like nothing was wrong- wait, she was getting up now- hands out in front of her- heading straight for him- a scary look on her face-

He was only just beginning to recover- still groggy, still just pushing himself off the ground, not even seeing her- and then she saw the red mark on his face- realized that his mom had hit him on top of everything else- she flung herself in between them- but her power was fading- she was feeling weak- but then he stumbled and flung his arms around her- wanting to protect her as she wanted to protect him- their power flowed together-

The bad woman was shouting something that didn't make sense- but with the way her hands were held out, she was going to try to hurt them, right? They lashed out with their combined power, knocking her back and breaking even more windows- and then there was a knocking at the door- someone calling- the nice neighbor man, his voice sounding worried- and then the sirens came and they both collapsed- and then they were elsewhere.

It was at this point that she started to suspect that she was dreaming-but it was more of a vague suspicion and she couldn't really bring herself to care- things were no longer so far away, and she was an adult, they both were- they were adults and they were safe.

her hair was still black, but longer now. It was loose too, but she pulled it all to one side, letting it fall as she bent her head, hiding her face from the world, but not from the one (the boy who was now a man) whose head rested in her lap. Her hair was long enough that it curtained his face too, and it touched his shoulder.

Her fingers moved to rest on his cheeks. Maybe, even through his sleep, he felt them, because he smiled.

This emboldened her. Leaning even further down, she was going to touch their foreheads together, but then his eyes opened and he looked at her.

She stopped.

He stared at her for a moment before smiling. "It's you."

Then he was the one reaching, his hand moving up to her cheek-

"Cheryl?"

She sat up so fast she almost smacked her head into the mirror.

"You okay?" her father asked her anxiously.

"Yeah, Dad. It was just a dream." Cheryl assured her father with a smile.

"About what?" Harry Mason asked curiously, glancing at her before looking back at the road.

"Nothing much. It was just me looking down at this guy who was sleeping." Cheryl paused, before sighing and going on. She decided to leave out a few embarrassing details though, not to mention the first part of the dream with its attempted murder of a child. "It was one of those dreams, the ones where you know people, but then you wake up and you don't. So I was looking down at this guy…I was feeling…very fond of him. And then he woke up. Recognized me too, I think. He smiled at me anyway." she found herself tugging at her hair- short and dyed blonde of course- before making herself stop. "And then I woke up. Thanks a lot Dad." Cheryl added the last part teasingly.

Harry chuckled. "Sorry, didn't know you were having such fun in your dreams. Was this guy of yours good looking?"

"…not really." Cheryl said thoughtfully. "I mean, it was dark, and it's all getting vague now, but he wasn't handsome. He did have a nice face though. A kind smile. Nice eyes…Dad?"

"Yeah?"

"Don't put this in one of your books, okay?"

Harry laughed. "Okay, I won't. Too bad, that was a nice description. I could almost-what?"

Cheryl looked at him, and then looked out the window in front of the car as it rolled to a stop.

The road ahead was blocked by a mess, a barricade of white and orange stripped signs with the word "detour" stamped all over.

"Oh, give me a break." Harry said, "The road looks fine!"

"Maybe there's a bridge out further down."

"There isn't a bridge on this road." Harry began looking around the car. "Cheryl, do you remember where I put the map?"

"Yeah, I think so." Cheryl said as she opened up the glove compartment and began rifling through it. "Yeah, here it is Dad."

"Thanks, Cheryl. Now, let's see, we're here…"

Cheryl glanced back towards the sign. "Hey Dad, it recommends going through some place called Silent Hill."

"It would." Harry muttered, without looking at it. "but if I have anything to say about it- Shepherd's Glen? Yeah, that'll work. Not too far away." he put the map down and began turning the car around.

"Dad, why don't you want to go to Silent Hill?" Cheryl asked curiously.

Her father was silent for a moment before saying, "let's just say…I've been there before."

Cheryl watched him for a moment more but then he switched on the radio and she realized that she wasn't going to hear anymore about it.

So Cheryl Mason sighed and looked out the window, resigning herself to not knowing the rest of the story. _

Travis jerked in his sleep and woke up suddenly, almost falling off the bench.

Where was he?

He got up and looked around.

Empty, misty streets. Town streets- mostly houses, but there were a few stores around too. How and when had he gotten here?

Maybe it was just left over from last night, but Travis thought he smelled a hint of smoke in the mist.

The park bench, where he'd been sleeping a moment ago, was along the side of the street. And across the street from it… was that the house he'd pulled the girl out of?

Travis stepped closer.

It looked like the same house and it had been through a fire. But it also looked like the fire had been a long time ago and after the fire was over, no one had come back to it. Not to mention that the surroundings were totally different-

"Admiring the old Gillespie house?"

Travis turned his head to see a man walking down the street towards him. He was running one hand through his dark hair, and his glasses hid his eyes. He came to a stop a short distance away from Travis- crossed his arms over an usually formal brown vest.

"Gillespie house?" Travis repeated- the name feeling oddly familiar as it came out of his throat.

"Yes, a crazy woman named Dahlia Gillespie used to live here with her daughter, years ago. And there was a fire one night. She probably started it herself. Involved in a cult, you know." the man looked at Travis with a smug, self-assured look of one who believes that they know everything. It was almost…familiar. "The daughter didn't make it out, and as you can see-" he gestured toward the house. "This place was been abandoned. No one touched it. Everyone has just ignored it, leaving it here."

"Years ago huh?" Travis repeated, looking back at the building. It sure looked that old…but then what had last night been? A dream? How had he wound up on the park bench?

Shaking his head, Travis turned away from the house to find the man smiling at him unsettlingly. It wasn't unhinged, like the woman from last night's, it was...just unnerving.

"You saw her, didn't you?" he asked in what was almost a delighted tone.

"Saw who?" Travis asked. He didn't really need to. But not asking would probably make the man think he was right.

"The girl. Seven years old, blue school uniform, black hair. You saw her, didn't you? She's probably lonely. Because of her mother, she had so few friends." he laughed. "Don't follow the dead, stranger. If you do, you won't be able to go back."

"I'll keep that in mind." Travis said, turning away.

At the end of the street though, for some reason, he couldn't help but look over his shoulder. Maybe he was expecting to see the house drop its abandoned look, and see the girl walk out.

But what he saw was the man with the glasses, staring up at the house with an expression that was not smug and was not full of grim delight. He looked merely…faintly…sad. Like someone who lost something a long time ago. He didn't notice Travis looking at him.

Travis shook his head. "Crazy." he muttered. Somehow, he didn't sound very convinced.

He had to get out of this place. He started walking again.

Where was this anyway? He'd seen the sign, driving past, right? It had said…it had said…

Silent Hill.

Nice name that. Sounded like something from an old horror movie. "House on Silent Hill."

Travis frowned. Or- now that he was thinking about it, it sounded familiar. Maybe he was thinking about something else?

But he knew he'd never seen a town with such empty streets before. And the mist that covered everything…or was it mist? Now and again, when he turned suddenly, Travis thought he caught the scent of smoke from the fire.

Travis snorted. He was thinking too much. He'd just had an odd dream, that had to be it. But how did I end up on that park bench?

Information board. That looked promising. A guide to the town, complete with map.

Crichton Street, that's where he was… This looked simple enough. If he went straight, he should be able to get back to his truck and finish the gig. With his little nap, he'd already fallen behind.

He tapped the map decidedly, then took on of the free copies (just in case, his glove compartment was full of just in case maps) and stepped back and turned to go, before stopping short.

The girl was standing there. Again, looking up at him like he was holding her favorite toy and she was asking for it back.

"You're the girl. The one from the fire." Travis said softly.

She didn't move, just kept looking at him, but somehow, her expression changed just a bit. Seemed slightly less passive.

"But that guy said you didn't make it out."

Now, she looked …like she was thinking about something.

Then she stepped closer.

Travis stood his ground, watching her. She didn't seem malicious, even if she was a rather creepy kid who was probably a ghost.

She stopped, so close that he could've touched her just by swinging his arms. And she gestured.

Travis blinked and looked at her before understanding and leaning over, offering her his ear.

She cupped her hands and whispered in his ear, in a familiar voice, a normal voice "Travis, I'm not dead. Help me."

He pulled back and looked at her.

With a pleading expression, she held up her hand to him. Mutely asking him, begging him to take it.

Travis looked down at her, at this tiny girl. Thoughts about possible and impossible seemed to fade away, and the only thing in the world was those big eyes, begging for help. What am I afraid of?

He reached out for her, and the tips of their fingers touched, just briefly, and the sirens began to blare in his skull again, and he was falling again but it felt like someone caught him and he had time to see the girl's face.

She was smiling, not creepily or serenely, or anything.

She looked happy. She looked gratefully. She was smiling at him as if he was the only thing in the world.

"Welcome back." she whispered.

(Pokes the subtle Fatal Frame 3 reference). Hee~. And I got to make a "House on Haunted Hill" reference too. Love that movie.

Although, unfortunately the mention of Shepherd's Glen does not mean Alex and company are going to be showing up in this, only a nod towards the fact that they exist. And that I love them, even if the game itself drives me to ranting. Actually, the same thing happens with Mother 3, although Mother 3 is so much better put together.

Also, reviews= motivation to post this faster. It will be finished sooner or later, because I don't like leaving things undone, but more reviews would mean I work on it more and finish it quicker.

Thank you for reading and reviewing Guest! And yep, Dean Koontz is the one who used that pen name- he used a whole bunch of other pen names for a while.