AN: This chapter gets really messed up. At some points I completely throw out punctuation marks and grammar (more towards the end). So don't be alarmed, I wasn't hit over the head with anything!

Episode Four: Mental Shift

As I entered through the hole in the wall, I felt a tightening grip in my mind, like someone was searching through it with their bare hands. I winced a bit, but didn't really pay much attention to it after that. I had stepped back into the conference room. Only this time it was much darker than before.

I hate the dark even more now.

I turned to my right to see if there was anything new in this room—seeing how this place keeps on changing on me—but I found nothing new except a metal fence before my face. Loose articles from past newspapers were clinging to the grimy metal wires. I caught a glimpse of one article in particular. I read "Fire Sweeps Through Town" on it. It was apparently from the "Braham's Herald" newspaper.

Suddenly, a flood of images ravaged through my brain. The surrounding around me immediately evaporated and was replaced by memories of the great fire that licked through my hometown. Then the memory of when I found Mother in her bedroom surrounded by the hundreds of candles. Then I found myself in the church again, kneeling on one knee and clasped my hands together in prayer and

Someone walked up in front of me

My head was bent over so I didn't see whom it was

I could only see their shadow

They placed a heavy hand on me and the voice of a man intervened in my false prayer

Aidan he said keeping his hand on my right shoulder why are you still here asked he

His voice was soothing somehow

I didn't respond at first because I was a bit irked

After a brief moment of silence I said amen and looked up at the man

He was old and pale and had grey-hair his eyes bother me

Yes father I said trying to avoid his scanning eyes

Why are you not with the others on this festive day

I stood up now

I don't fit in with the crowd they all have unforgiving stares

That should not hinder you from joining in on the festivities

I don't care for them

They can be helpful for the trapped soul

My soul is tainted

Even so

It doesn't matter

He forgives

I know but

Communicate

I'm trying Father

Pray

I'm trying Father

Believe

I'm trying Father

Try harder

I'm trying Father

Go live and face your evils then

I can't this church is my sanctum now

You must live this church will be here until the end days your mortal life will not

It doesn't matter anymore I've already purchased a one-way ticket to

Don't speak

Sorry Father

He left me then and I was alone in the church again I had to decide now whether or not I could face those demons out there

They were surely going to eat me alive

I should have gone with her she promised me protection from the demons

I walked away from the pews and walked down the aisle every step I took down the aisle echoed in the church's vast interior

The floor below me always sounded hollow it must be the basement but the floor seemed so thin

I reached the end of the aisle and went for the door when a thought crossed my mind

I turned around and asked the priest

Father is there a basement to this church

I don't know why I asked it but I did

The priest returned from one of the side doors and responded with a heavy no and walked away disappearing behind the door

I turned away from the church

And before me was a ladder blocking my way to the church's door

Not thinking I began climbing up the ladder and as I ascended every wrung I felt a pinch of pain in my head again and the church's interior fell from view and was replaced by a cold, cement wall.

I was hanging on the wrung of the ladder in the conference room. I stared up before me and spotted a gaping hole in the ceiling, and of course beyond that the darkness was impenetrable. I continued climbing up the ladder, not giving a thought to anything else before I was pulled back into the past again. Try as I might, I couldn't keep myself away. This place brings back too much.

The floor was wet when I touched it. I pulled my body up from out of the hole and was on all fours on the floor that was wet. It wasn't exactly solid either. It was damp, moist—it felt like a wet sponge.

My clothes were still wet from before, I could still feel the water running down my body and soaking up in the spongy floor. The new environment around me was shrouded in almost complete darkness, making it very difficult to see further than three to four feet in front of me, and beyond that was darkness.

To my left there were boarded up windows, and the ones that weren't boarded were shattered into a million little pieces. Graffiti blanketed the walls on either side of me and the shards of glass and trash was strewn about on the sodden floor. There were also dozens of beer bottles and burnt out buds piled together under one particular window whose edifice was covered in spattered blood, however, dried.

I walked on, lifting my legs high with every step as to try and not make contact with my already tight-fitted jeans, which were now getting ice-cold due to the dramatic change in temperature.

As I walked down the hallway I was running my hand across the surface of the wall—it felt grimy and was covered in something that glistened before the power of my light. I leant in and took a whiff of the wall and instantaneously I choked on the wretched stench and felt my stomach churning inside me. I began feeling the bile shooting up my oesophagus, burning the track as it did so. Then I tasted it in the bowls of my mouth and on my tongue and finally I bent over and let it flow out of my system. I clenched tightly to my stomach as I did so, with my eyes closed and my senses flaring. The scent of my own vomit made things worse.

What the fuck was that shit? It smelt like a rotting corpse with a hint of shit and raw eggs. I could also distinctly make out the stench of a dead skunk or its pheromones.

When I finally finished my vomiting, and rid my mouth of its bitter aftertaste by spitting it out almost incessantly, I stood up again, a little light headed but continued on anyway. My stomach felt empty now and I grew rather hungry, but where would I find something to eat in a place like this?

I walked down the hallway and stopped suddenly to the sound of shuffling feet: Was my person still up here? Were they just around that corner? What the hell are they doing in a place like this anyway? Whatever made that sound just now was moving slow as it moved closer in my vicinity. I rushed up against the wall, despite its horrid stench and stayed there for a second and held my breath.

About thirty seconds went by and I suddenly saw light shine down from the connecting hallway. It flickered for a second but then disappeared, but the shuffling still could be heard. Then an instant later the light came back and disappeared again. I moved away from the wall, finally, and inched closer to the corner. I could now see my reflection in the only window that wasn't broken or boarded up: my hair was pasted to my face because of the water, but it was starting to dry out. The glare from the flashlight blocked about half of my face but from what I could see my visage was worn and tired-looking, which I was at this point. My skin was paler than ever and I could see bags forming beneath my eyes. My jacket looked darker in the reflection, as did my jeans.

I stood there for almost a minute staring at my image in the glass window, half-dazed and just realised that I was a real person. My existence before this felt empty, and as I stared at myself I realised that my life is real and I am living and I am made of tiny atoms and molecules and I'm living. I'm living. I'm living. I'm living? Am I really?

Am I really standing in a run-down fire station on the third floor chasing after an enigmatic person who might not even exist? Is the world around me truly what I believe it to be? What's going on? I don't like this anymore. I don't want this anymore. I want to go home. I want Mommy!

"Mommy!" I cried out, running through the crowd of people as they made their way past me. I pushed and I cried and I pushed some more until the people moved out of my way. As I surfaced from the surf of people I finally found her. She was sitting at a bench beside an elderly woman with greying hair and deep-set eyes. She was wearing a strange purple garment and was talking to Mommy.

I walked feverishly toward her, immediately taking her hand and looked into her eyes as she turned her gaze toward me. She smiled suddenly and said, "Hey there little monster, I thought you were playing with ——?"

I squeezed her hand tightly and told her that I wanted to go home and I didn't want to play with —— anymore. "I want to go home, Mommy," I repeated, shaking her hand heatedly.

Mommy turned to the crazy-looking woman and bid her farewell. The woman said nothing except, "Remember, Sophie," and then Mommy and I left the park and made our way to the corner of the corridor.

I walked ever so slowly toward it, wanting to catch the person by surprise but not to give chase to them. Ireached it finally and made the turn and my light shone upon a set of metal bars blocking my path to further down the corridor. But there was nothing there, not even a source of light or to the sounds of shuffling. There was nothing save for the lone door that had a placard on its face that read TRAINING ROOM. Its doorknob was missing. Could the person have gone through here?

I bent in closer toward the door to see if I could hear anything on the other side of the door. There were loud noises coming from inside the room. The person must definitely be in here. I bent down and tried peering through the hole where the doorknob should have been but to no avail. A dying fluorescent that crackled from within only lighted the room inside.

I turned off my light so as to not scare the person and eased the door open with the use of one hand. I opened it just enough so that I could slip through it and I did. I was now in what was called the "Training Room".

It was an expansive room, at least from what it looked like in the darkness. I could barely make out the edges of tables and benches and dumbbells. Posters that were on the walls were now peeling, as was the paint. There was a rustling coming from somewhere within the room, but my eyes had not adjusted fully to the darkness that I still couldn't see very far.

I moved slowly within the room, outstretching my arm so as to make sure I don't trip over anything. I grabbed on to something then: it was a steel rod and it felt loose in my hands. I pulled slightly at the rod—it made very little noise—and it came away easily.

Suddenly there was movement beside me and by reflex I swung the steel rod and I hit something—or someone? The thing I hit made a loud and agonising scream; its voice gargled in the pits of its throat. My hand moved toward my flashlight then and turned it on. And then before me appeared three of those huge beasts that I saw back on the second floor—each one was slightly different in colour. The one I had hit lurched up off the ground and was about to attack with one of its massive-clawed arms when I batted it down again, smashing its bones as I heard a loud, blood-curdling snap and crunch. And again it cried out in protest, but it then swung its other arm at me; by reflex, I swung the rod once more and broke its other arm. I felt a surge of rage pouring through my body at this time. Fucking thing was going to die!

I held the bâton de mort in my hands like I would a baseball bat and charged at the remaining monstrosities that stood chained to the floor before me. I flung my bat at the first; hitting its side with a heavy blow, feeling ecstasy as I heard its flesh tear open and its bone shatter to pieces. The third monster made a grumbling noise and then a high-pitched scream and lunged its massive arms at me.

It felt like a hundred-pound sack of bricks hit me in the stomach. I fell to the floor and was momentarily breathless. I clutched my stomach, where the pain was, and wheezed as I tried to catch my breath. The ground beneath me began to pound and my flashlight started to flicker wildly and then it went out and I was once again swallowed by the darkness. There was a sudden screaming coming from the monsters—I think—and then it faded away. I felt dizzy again and lost consciousness. Everything was gone. The world slipped away. My head hurt. Dark. Black. Gone…

"And God said unto Man: Mayest thee find happiness in the Darkest of Days when the Foes of the Righteous riseth to tear thine faith asunder. Thine faith shall be tested; it shall not waiver if wisheth thee to reach the road to Paradise. Mine Child need stay strong in the face of battle. Xavier Chapter 13, Verse 5."

The voice died in the distance. It was a woman. Her voice soft, yet not soothing. It made my skin crawl and my head hurt. I woke up lying on the wooden floor of the training room, which was lighted now, though barely. The pain in my stomach was dropped to a minimal, but my head still hurt. I tapped my flashlight and it turned on. The steel rod was jammed in the wall now, penetrating one of the fitness posters. I went to retrieve it, and with closer inspection I realised that it was not a fitness poster that the rod tore through: it was a rather large painting.

The painting was of three women—one of which was destroyed by the pipe that went through her belly—huddled around a small bonfire of some sort that cast long, ominous shadows behind them. There was a caption beneath the painting:

Faith

"And the Three Saints await the arrival of God to Grace them with Her Blessing."

Michael 5:12

Jonathon Wilkes

1898 – 1899

And scribbled beneath that were the words "STUPID FOOLS". I then managed to pull the jammed baton out of the painting, causing it to rip even more, and a door was revealed to me. I tore at the painting, completely removing it from its frame and what looked like a cupboard door came into view. I reached for the knobs and turned them—they turned easily—and opened the doors. A tiny crawlspace was what was behind this door, barely enough room to accommodate me. Looking over my shoulder I saw that the door was now boarded up. What the hell is wrong with this place?

I crawled into the opening, which was a rather tight squeeze, but I managed. It wasn't a long crawl, but it was still dark as hell. My flashlight was still in my breast pocket and I forgot to take it out. But it didn't matter because I was out of the crawlspace in no less than a minute.

I dropped into a small, square room. My flashlight provided all the light in here. It looked like a vault of some sort, only there was nothing for safeguard. The room looked vacated—as if someone cleared out the room in a rush. Every single one of the safes that were built into the walls was left open—no, I was wrong, there's one more in the corner over there. I walked slowly over to the corner where the lone, locked safe was and inspected its dial: there were three numbers that needed to be entered in order to unlock the safe, three numbers that eluded my mind.

Wait. Could it possibly be? I remembered the verse from the painting then. Could it really be that easy? It was well worth the try. I pressed my ear against the cold surface of the safe and dialled the first number, 5, then 1, and finally 2, but I heard nothing. Next I tried the years that were printed under the verse, but then realised that I only needed three numbers. I was stuck.

There was the sound of shuffling feet from behind me suddenly. I quickly turned around but saw no one; nothing was in sight, save for the huge, bolted door that stood rusting on its hinges.

But when I turned back to face the safe embedded in the wall the sound of shuffling feet came again, this time accompanied with a small girlish laugh. I ran towards the door this time, banging on it and crying out to the person on the other side.

"Hello," I cried out. "Who's out there? Can you help me? I need a ride out of this town! Hello?"

I didn't get a response—or at least a vocal one. A piece of yellowing paper slid from underneath the heavy door. I knelt down and picked it up and examined it.

"When your faith has failed you,

Always look up to God and pray;

She alone can guide you only if you ask.

All answers lie in Her hands."

As if by reflex to what I had just read, I turned my view up to the ceiling of the vault. There I found not God but what looked like a skinned body of a woman. Her body was positioned in cruciform, her appendages tied with barbed wire and her head pulled back, also with the same type of wire. My stomach churned in reflex, bile climbed up my œsophagus and stopped at the back of my throat. I felt the burning sensation just boiling there as I held it back and swallowed. I moved my hand to my lips and kept it there until the sickness subsided.

And then my vision blurred again. The sound of wind rushed through my ears and I started falling back

back

back

Zariah Chapter Twelve; Verse Three through Five

3…She spoke unto him and granted him New Life. God said, "Rise my Child and return to thine family." At these words he turned in horror at the prospect of a New Life, for it meant that God had denied him access to Paradise. But he will live his life, grateful, at least, for a second chance to better it.

4He walked for miles in the desolate land. The Earth did not treat him well, or with respect. His body was brutally battered by the World as he traversed back to his family—who believed him to be on leave from his duties. This, of course, was God's Will to test his Strength. He would need to prove that he was fit to be accepted into the arms of God.

5God saw his Courage and Strength and granted him a Spear to combat the Daemons that lurked in the Empty City.

I woke up with a splitting headache into a world so dark and wet. My eyes opened suddenly, and I found that I was still in the giant safe. Only this time, when I surveyed the ceiling, there was no body hanging above me.

There was a clanging sound then, it sounded as if the dial of a large chain lock was winding. There were several heavy clangs in between the many lighter ones until finally it reached a loud thud. The massive steel door in front of me creaked open, scraping along the floor. I got up from the floor, standing before the opened door, and left the safe finally.

I entered an office room that was as dilapidated as any other part of this building—or as much as any other part of this town. I rounded the corner and switched on my flashlight, it immediately illuminated the office. Several long and rusted chains hung from the ceiling, almost completely carpeting the floor. There was a gurney pushed up against the wall opposite me, and on that gurney was what looked like a body bag! Pushing through the chains, and walking slowly making sure not to slip on the links on the floor, I made my way to the gurney.

The black bag was dripping in a thick liquid substance, staining the white of the gurney. The same substance stained the wall, dripping from a vent just above the gurney. Did that black bag fall from there? It was lumpy from what I could see, and it definitely wasn't moving. I hesitated for a second, standing in place, trying to breathe. My heart was racing a million times faster and I could begin to see my breath in the air. Was the temperature dropping? I didn't feel anything. To me the room was still at temperature. How is my breath condensing like that?

The only door that was in the room was chained from the inside. There was no way for me to get past the chains. I scanned the room once more but found no other means of escape. I couldn't go back through the safe, which would only lead to a dead end. My only option was, it came down to, the vent. It looked like it could fit a grown man—I mean; it fit this body bag (possibly). I'm not exactly the biggest of men anyway. So I did it. I climbed on top of the gurney, carefully placing each foot so as not to slip and crack my head; also making sure not to step on whatever was in the body bag.

My hands reached for the edge of the vent, the thick substance oozing under the palms of my hands. I managed to barely pull myself up from the gurney when I heard something.

Aidan, honey, is that you?

Mother?

Of course, sweetie, who else would it be?

But you're dead.

I am? When did this happen?

T-t-twelve years ago.

How did it happen?

It-it was he who ran away.

I don't remember. Why don't you show me, Aidan? Show mommy how it happened?

I-I c-c-can't do that, M-Mother. Dr Manson told me n-n-not to.

Why would he say a thing like that? Show mommy, will you please, Aidan? Let me help you, honey. We were living in Montpelier at the time. It was you, your brother and I. Remember Dennis? I was cooking in the kitchen like I always do whilst your brother was out with Louisa, and you were in your bedroom—

—Writing in my journal like Doctor told me to. I was writing about my day and how I had wanted to kill that ugly monster that I kept seeing every day. My heart raced every time I thought of it. I stopped writing then, and got up off the floor and ran to my dresser and I pulled out a…picture of the family when we were all together as one. Before they killed Dad and before the burning and before everything! I was only a baby then, and Mother was holding me tightly in her arms. Dennis was at Father's hand, waiting for the photographer to finish. (The picture makes me happy.)

Happy. I like being happy.

I could smell the dinner Mother was preparing downstairs. God, even at the age of seventeen I still loved her alphabet soup.

Dennis was gone that night—and he never returned since then. I saw my chance. I would finally be able to…have all the soup to myself. Immediately, this thought excited me. I ran out from my room, hurrying down the stairs, and into the kitchen. I gave Mother quite the fright.

"Aidan!" she screamed, pointing her finger at me in that disapproving manner. But later I discovered that it was not I who had scared her.

Something hit me hard on the head, knocking me out entirely. But I was only unconscious for a few minutes. I woke up with smeared vision and I could hear the faint sounds of something scratching at the tiled floor of the kitchen. Water spattered on the floor, even spraying me on the face. I wiped it off with the sleeve of my shirt, and then I realised that it was not water that spattered on me, but blood. My eyes opened wide then and I took in the view that was given before me.

I saw my mother laying on the floor, facing me, her eyes just as wide as mine. Blood was dribbling from the corner of her mouth, which was opening and closing like that of a fish gasping for air. Her entire body was covered in blood—It looked like she had been bathing in it. And then something sharp went slicing down through the air because the next second her head slid from its place and went hiding under the kitchen sink.

My body crawled away from the scene then, whilst my mind stayed there, watching the murder take place. And then it all went black and I ended up in my basement. I climbed on top of the washer and pushed open the screen window and pulled myself in through the crowded

vent.

It was dark, cramped and musty, covered in dust and lint and dead insects, but I managed to pull my way through just fine. I felt a tiny scrape at my leg, but it didn't bother me too much.

I climbed out of the small shaft and landed on a white-clothed table. The room I entered was flooded with lighting from above me; it nearly blinded me when I opened my eyes.

"Aidan," a voice called to me.

My mind was scattered all over the place. I was catching glimpses of the memory of the night my mother was murdered. I kept seeing her face flashing before my eyes.

Momma?

Was she calling me?

Momma?

The sound of a door shutting disturbed my scrambled thoughts and pulled me back into the reality I have come to know as Silent Hill. It was a door, and I saw it close. Was someone just here?

I ran to the door Pull it open Ran out And I wasn't on the third floor anymore

First floor I was on the first floor How? What's going on?

Mother? She died

Dennis

Murderer you murderer no?

Paintings on the wall They were everywhere Saints? No? Yes?

god god oh, god help me god? God help me

The room was square and it was dimmer in this room I tried for the door again lock broken what's going on here how did I end up here again wasn't I on the third floor I tried for the door again still nothing I pound on the door let me out I scream the room is getting smaller is it caving in on me why am I sweating the sweat rolls down my cheeks

The floor beneath me rumbles violently and it begins to descend.

I could see the paintings slowly moving up and away from me. The wallpapered walls soon become brick and then cement and then dirt and then stone. The temperature had dropped dramatically again—there was no breeze. The air felt denser down here, a bit muggy, but chill against my skin.

Where am I? I don't know, I told myself.

My head hurts.

Everything was moving at the speed of light in my head. The pictures became a soup of blurred vision. Dates and times became obscure in the abyss of my mind. Everything was all wrong to me. Was I going crazy so early on in my journey through Silent Hill? What am I doing in this town anyway?