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Chapter 1 ~ Backroad
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A letter to my future self… "Am I still happy?" I began…
"Have I grown up pretty…" murmured the young woman along with the female singer on her car's radio. She glanced briefly in the rearview mirror, brushing a stray lock of blonde hair, her lovely blue eyes gleaming dully in the cloudy afternoon light. Seeing how tired she looked, the thin young woman frowned adorably, her pug nose scrunching along with her delicately pale lips. In the week or so she'd been in Maine, the damned weather had completely worn her out, and the weatherman had already forecasted more fog, clouds, and rain for the next week or so in this area. Just her luck, visiting in such dreadful weather! She had already driven the car through God-knows-how-many mud puddles, and was not looking forward to the cleanup that awaited her back home… Well, her husband would take care of that back home if she coaxed him in the right way. Right now, though, the woman was far from home, far from her new life as a married woman, far from her beloved father.
Barely older than twenty-four, the woman was always teased for her tight relationship with her father. She would constantly miss and think about him, even as an independent woman. "Daddy was still a good man," as the current song had inspired her to think on this long car ride. Growing up, she had no mother figure, and as such her father was her best friend, her confidante, her rock – and yet, despite how similar they were in appearance, the man she called "Daddy" was not her biological father.
"We were put here on this earth, put here to feel joy…" the song and young woman concluded, and she fell silent as the radio station DJ chimed on:
Hello folks! You were just listening to "Letter From the Lost Days" on WKJY Lucky 104.3 as part of our "Blast From the Past" week – the best tunes of yesteryear!
At this, the young woman smirked. The song wasn't that old…Perhaps less than a decade…?
Next up is a real oldie but goodie, my old man's personal favorite, Ho—SKRRREEEIIIIIIIIIIIIEEEEEEIIIEEEIIEEEIIIIII…!
"Nnnngh, ouch!" the young lady cried as the radio erupted into horrid, shrieking static. She reached for the tuning dial and twisted it about, trying to locate a different station, but to no avail. Every station yielded the same eerie noise, and even more bizarre was the fact that she could not even turn off the radio. The young woman was so occupied with fiddling with the damned thing that she hadn't noticed her car had passed a small, bright green directional sign that stated in its familiar white lettering:
SILENT HILL 3 MI. BRAHMS 11 MI.
"Stupid radio," she spat in frustration, wincing at the horrid sound as she attempted to re-focus on the road. The fog had begun to creep in even thicker than before, and on this winding, rocky highway, the risk of taking too sharp a curve and careening off a cliffside was extraordinarily high. It was best to forget about the radio and concentrate on the road, especially since she was under a time crunch. She was not even halfway to her destination, and wasn't too keen on driving on these strange roads after dark.
"Stupid Maine, stupid fog…" the young woman continued her tirade, flicking on her car's fog-beams. The grayness had become so thick that she could barely see thirty feet in front of the car, even with the beams on full blast, and the squealing radio did not help in making the situation seem any more pleasant. Tugging at her skirt to pull the fabric back over her knee for warmth, she sighed against the chill of the air-conditioner and prepared herself for the remainder of this long, tedious voyage—
SHHHHHRRRAAAAAIIIIIIIAAAEEEEEEEUUUUUAAAAA…
"Fuh— Hunnnnghhh…!" The young woman began a curse, but a groan escaped her lips instead. Her foot slammed on the car brake, an instinctual action, as her hands flew to her stomach, clutching at the fabric of her clothes in a stupid attempt to quell whatever abominable pain that had suddenly begun to wreak havoc upon her body. And that horrible shriek – it wasn't the radio, was it? It had felt like it had echoed in her very brain… The car squealed to a stop, and with a quaking hand the woman placed the vehicle in park, ejecting her seatbelt with her other trembling hand. She did not worry about other cars behind her – firstly, the road was empty, and secondly, her pain-swamped mind was not capable of such high-process thought at the moment.
"Nn… Augh…" She writhed in her seat, throwing her head back as the pain intensified in her gut. The radio squealed eternally. What could be causing such pain?! It wasn't her monthly cramps, nor could it have been food poisoning – she'd barely eaten in the past few days. Pregnant…? Cancer…? Her agonized mind foolishly pondered. Did Mary ever feel this kind of pain…?
No. This pain was...was not even pain anymore…it was a heat…a fire…
"Mmh… What…"
The fog-beams cut through the thick gray ahead, allowing the half-conscious woman a glimpse of a slender figure shifting in the swirling fog. No, wait. It wasn't just one figure – there were several, around five or six. They moved in a humanlike motion, which both comforted and unnerved the agonized woman. The strange visions drew closer and closer… Would they…help…?
"Help…" the woman peeped, vocalizing her last conscious thought before the pain consumed her. Her blue eyes dimmed and closed, her head falling limp against the seat, blonde hair sprawled wildly about her frame.
The figures in the fog approached the car apprehensively, while a braver one stalked toward the driver's side. After a moment's pause, the figure turned to its brethren and stated in relieved triumph:
"She is here."
Consciousness returned to her slowly – but what she awoke to was far from the reality she knew. She was lying on her back, surrounded by fuzzy, dark shapes that obscured most of her vision. Above the figures swirled something red and pulsating. Was this a dream? The pain in her stomach was still present, but still…this surreal awakening was—
"Breathe," ordered a stern male voice. A bowl filled to the brim with a fine white powder was suddenly shoved in her face. Surprised by the sudden action, she gasped loudly, inhaling a fair amount of the substance as she did so. Something rushed to her brain, and her eyesight blurred yet again as her senses and body numbed. Her eyelids drooped over dim cerulean irises and dilated pupils.
"Good. Very good. Let us begin." The female voice drifted into the young woman's mind – and again her consciousness abandoned her.
