Once again, Travis woke up in an unfamiliar place.

There was an odd smell in the air, like blood and rust.

Travis sat up.

It looks almost like a school nurse's office. Once the thought was formed in his head, he wasn't sure why. It could be the right answer though- it did have the seats near the door, the desk and the cabinets right in front of them- and there was a examination table underneath him, one that had lost most of its cushioning to being worn out-

But the walls were grey with age and spotted heavily with a rusty brown-red substance that Travis decided that he didn't want to think about too much. And the cabinets were all hanging open, some missing their doors entirely, none of their contents remaining- the floor was covered with ripped up papers and smashed bottles and some things he didn't even recognize, they were in such bad shape-

Travis automatically looked down at his boots and made sure they were still in good condition. He was glad he'd splurged just a bit on them and gotten the good ones.

There were only two intact pieces of furniture; the others were smashed or at least disfigured. There was the nurse's desk, covered with documents and bottles, and there was the table beneath him. Travis looked down and was relieved to see that it seemed like the cleanest thing in the room.

But what had happened here?

"Note to self," Travis muttered as he stood up, "don't go around touching ghosts. Or whatever Alessa is." he added, remembering that she'd said she wasn't dead.

Maybe he was dreaming. Travis chuckled. That'd be nice.

But he knew he wasn't dreaming. He couldn't ever remember his dreams clearly. Sometimes an image or two, or a tangle of words would imbed itself into his brain. But they were always disconnected- from each other, and from everything else too. This wasn't a dream.

But whatever the truth was, he didn't want to stay in this place.

"Let's find the way out." he muttered, casting one last glance over the room. It really had been trashed bad. There was even graffiti written across from where he was.

Curious, Travis stepped closer.

"Nurse Lisa is dreamy" read one.

Travis chuckled. Nice to see some things remained the same. And then he glanced at the other one and frowned.

"Burn the witch."

Odd. Not to mention disturbing. What kind of a child writes that on a wall?

Travis took a step back and looked at the damage again.

Well, it could've been done by former students, who had already graduated. That would explain it. Maybe. For the place to be this far gone, it had to have been abandoned for a while…

But it still disturbed Travis on some level he couldn't identify. He shook his head and began to leave the room, carefully stepping around the worst of the trash on the floor, before reaching the door and opening it-

And stopped.

There was Alessa, standing there, waiting for him, and holding a book in her arms.

Travis sucked in a breath before walking forward, quickly, but not too quickly. "Okay Alessa, what's going on?"

She looked up at him, and then down at the floor. "I can't get out. Not without you." and then she put the book down on the floor, looked up at him- meeting him in the eyes briefly before dashing off.

"Alessa!" he scooped the book off the floor as he ran off after her. He wanted answers and ghost or not, Alessa Gillespie was going to-

Travis skidded to a stop.

Who had told him that the girl's name was Alessa?

The woman at the fire hadn't told him.

The man with the glasses hadn't told him. He'd mentioned her last name, but not her first-

Alessa hadn't told him.

So how had he known?

A rush of voices.

"This is Alessa."

"Be a dear and play with her, okay?"

"Yes Momma."

Travis removed his hands from his ears and looked around the room.

"This isn't funny."

No one laughed.

Travis sighed and glanced down at the book. A child's sketchbook. Little surprise there.

But it had a child's name on it, and the name was not Alessa Gillespie. It was Cheryl Mason.

Travis rested his forehead in his hand. "Why can't any of this make sense?" he looked around once more- stared in the direction that Alessa had run off in. The hallway was in pretty much the same shape as the room he'd just left behind- Travis looked at it only for a moment before saying "Well, as long as I'm trapped in your game of hide and seek anyway."

And he followed after, going at a jog, hoping he'd catch up soon- the rest of the school was like the nurse's office. Trashed, with questionable stains, graffiti- but he didn't stop to read these. One jumped out at him through. Written in large blue letters, it said "Go home Travis".

He had to admit, home sounded nice right now.

Travis pinched his nose and tried not to think of home- tried not to think of the real world- coffee, the road at night- he tried not to think of the house. The house that had been his grandparents' and now was his- the only home he could remember ever having.

Travis shook his head and started walking again. Just thinking about the things he wanted wouldn't get him anywhere. And even if he knew exactly how to get out of here, he wouldn't be able to take advantage of that until after he helped Alessa- not that he had any idea how he was going to help her, but he knew he couldn't- wouldn't- ignore her. Whatever was going on, Travis would find a way to help her.

That decision made- not that Travis had really been aware that he was making it until after he'd made it- his mind dragged itself back to his previous train of thought- and then to one of the other things he knew Dan and Laura worried about, even though they didn't bug him about it. He knew that he'd lived with his parents for a while after his mother had gotten out of the hospital. He knew that, but he didn't remember it, and despite what they said, it wasn't a big deal that he couldn't remember. It wasn't like he'd been a teenager or anything like that. He didn't really remember living with his grandparents before that, while she'd been in the hospital either, except for a vague fragmented memory here or there.

After his parents had died- and okay, maybe it was a little weird that he couldn't remember that- his grandparents had taken him in again and he lived with them until they died.

He tried to wrench his mind away from that- away from his grandparents- and started walking again- more huge letters in bright blue appeared on the walls of the hallway, but he carefully looked away from them.

But Travis couldn't deny the fact that he wished he could ask them for their advice- they were both very practical people though- even with their own eyes, they might not believe this.

The sigh that escaped from Travis was one of fondness. His grandparents had been good people. When he'd been a kid, they had been the one steady spot of hope in a universe reeling with chaos- the only people he could count on. One of the few things he remembered about his dad was how he'd never show up on time- and that was when he showed up at all.

In the cafeteria, all the tables were turned so that they were facing the middle of the room, where four cages were hung from the ceiling. Four people sized cages. And a wheelchair underneath them…

What was this stuff doing here?

Travis could sort of see a bunch of former students going crazy and tearing up the school- he wasn't too fond of his school memories either. But some of the objects…he couldn't understand how they'd found their way there. Where would someone even find cages like that? And why would anyone bother to lug them around and place them here?

The only way out of the lunchroom(other than the door he'd used to enter it) lead him to a pair of doors, which lead him outside, to the playground.

It actually looked worse than the rest of the school- the school had been trashed, but the playground was twisted- the bouncing animals looked like monsters from a child's nightmare, the swings were actual cages that groaned in the wind that felt like hot breath-

Travis straightened his shoulders and walked past them, heading straight for Alessa.

Alessa was sitting on top of the slide, staring up at the dark sky, as if she were searching for stars. There didn't seem to be any out though.

Travis blinked. Hadn't it been morning a short time ago?

"Do you know about changelings?" the girl asked softly.

"Nope, never heard of them." Travis said, walking closer. She wasn't running away this time…

"They're babies that the fairies leave behind when they steal human children. Fairy babies left to live among humans."

"Sounds sad. Why are you bringing it up?"

"I think we're changelings. You and me. Claudia and Vincent. Claudia sees things, and Vincent's weird, and you and me-" and she brought up her legs and hugged them. "You can do that thing with the mirrors, and me-they all say I'm a witch."

Travis remembered the graffiti in the nurse's office.

"Burn the witch!"

"Sometimes I like to think about what might happen if we could find our way back to the place where we're supposed to be." the small girl continued. "Maybe back there, we're important people, and we'll be welcomed back. We're not wanted here…but maybe we're wanted there."

Travis smiled. Typical kid fantasy. "Look Alessa." he said softly, "for better or for worse, we're here now, so we gotta make the most of that. I know you're in trouble and I want to help you. But I can't help you if I don't know what the problem is."

She turned to look at him- met his eyes for the first time since he'd come out onto the playground.

"Travis, you're not there when the nightmares wake me up."

He opened his mouth to answer, but someone else beat him to it.

"I can't be there when you wake up, but if you call me, I'll come." a child's voice- a boy's- it came from behind him-

He wanted to turn and look, but his eyes wouldn't move from Alessa's who was smiling at him-no, not at him -the one behind him- but Travis was the one she was reaching for and- sirens in his ears and vision blurring- he stumbled forward, his fingers grabbing at the slide to steady himself and a feather light touch of warm fingers on his cheek.

After a few head splitting minutes, it began to fade away. And Travis straightened up.

The playground had changed.

Instead of looking mutated, it now looked normal, like any other playground you could find anywhere.

But there was a trail of ashes down the slide.

Travis took a step forward, and then looked down. In the ground at his feet, the words "look at the sketchbook" were written. Travis took it out and looked at it.

It looked the same. Still said Cheryl Mason.

Travis flipped it open. First was a bad drawing that Travis could only tell was meant to be a man by the fact that it was labeled "Daddy". And then-

Huh.

A map of the school. Travis raised one eyebrow as he studied it, half wishing he'd found it before.

One room was labeled "Don't go in". Interesting. And it didn't look like it led anywhere. Best to follow that advice then.

What else was in here?

…a hospital map? And there was writing on the bottom.

"Find Lisa. Lisa can help us."

Travis considered the last word for a moment. There is no us. He felt like saying that. Felt like shouting it, really.

But somehow, he couldn't. Regardless of whatever or not she was using him, she was a hurting child, a trapped child. She needed his help. And he had, after all, promised to save her.

Travis carefully tucked the sketchbook into his vest pocket, took off his cap, ran his hand through his hair and sighed.

"Okay." he replaced it and straightened up. "Let's go get some answers."

OoOoOo

Things weren't going smoothly for the Masons.

Other roads were blocked off too. They couldn't even go back the way they'd come. They had to go to Silent Hill.

And Harry was not happy.

"What's so bad about this place anyway?" Cheryl asked as they drove in. "It doesn't look so bad. A little empty maybe…"

"Yeah well, you know what people say about books and covers." Harry said as he looked around cautiously.

"Hey Dad? I've got worse news." and Cheryl pointed towards the fuel gauge.

Harry looked at it and swore under his breath.

"I guess we don't have a choice." and he pulled over into a nearby gas station.

"One other thing Dad. As long as we're here, I need to use the restroom."

Harry looked at her, and then understood. "Oh. Got your knife?"

Cheryl laughed. "Yes, you old worrywart."

"I just want you to be safe."

"I'll be fine Dad. It's just a trip to the restroom." Cheryl said as she slipped out of the car.

"I know." Harry said as he also got out. "I know."

Cheryl took a step before looking over her shoulder at him and smiling. "Worrywart old Dad, I love you too."

He smiled at her. "I know. I love you."

Cheryl entered the store, and looked around. Odd. It was completely empty. Not even a clerk.

Cheryl shrugged and entered the bathroom.

When she exited the stall to wash her hands, she stopped.

That hadn't been there when she'd come in the room. On the mirror right across from her, someone had scribbled some sort of weird magic-ish looking circle. Using a red color that resembled blood, of course.

"I didn't even hear them do it." Cheryl mused, stepping closer to examine it. It looked familiar. Had she seen it in one of those books she used to read? But wouldn't she remember a mark like this, which made her head hurt whenever she looked at it?

Cheryl shook her head and began washing her hands. Whatever it was, it didn't matter.

In a minute or so, she and her dad would be leaving town, and judging by her dad's reactions, they weren't ever going to be coming back.

Cheryl straightened up again- for a moment, studied herself in the mirror, as she dried her hands- wondering what she'd look like if she let her hair go back to its natural black and let it grow long- before dismissing it. She'd been dying her hair for years now- long enough that she'd had her dad help her the first time. But she liked her hair like this- simple, easy- fun. She thought it looked good on her too, even if it wasn't quite the elegant look she'd had in her dream.

Cheryl smiled at her reflection- winced a little as something- must be the angle of light or something like that- distorted it, making her smile look like something from a horror movie, abruptly reminding her that she didn't like mirrors.

Cheryl shook her head, finished and went over to open the door. But it wouldn't open.

She pounded it and slammed, but it wouldn't open.

And there was no one in the room with her, and there was no one in the store…Dad must be still outside, because if he heard her, he would be on the other side of the door, talking back to her-

Cheryl looked around again.

That window, over there…it was pretty big.

Cheryl grinned. I'll come up from the back and scare Dad.

So she slid open the window and climbed out.

But there was a problem. Both ends of the alley were blocked. One by a dumpster and a lot of weird junk (including a wheelchair, of all things) and the other by a car that someone had actually driven into the ally, despite the fact that both sides of the car were scrapping the walls.

Cheryl groaned. Now what was she supposed to do? There was no way she was climbing over the garbage.

…there was another open window on the other side of the ally.

Here, Cheryl hesitated.

She walked as close as she could the end that her father was closest to, and called out. "Dad? Dad! Can you hear me?"

No answer.

She tried again, but still no response.

Cheryl groaned and walked back and crawled through the other window.

Once inside, she looked around. An ordinary looking white corridor. And a gurney shoved into a corner.

Was this place a hospital? That would explain the wheelchair outside.

Cheryl groaned. She hated hospitals. "At least I don't have to stay here." she muttered, and stepped forward.

OoOoOo

(Is happily humming as she finishes up the chapter.) Maybe I can actually get this done before February. That's what I'm hoping, since then I'll be going on a long trip and have no acess to the internet for I don't even know how long.