…Frederick Baldwin was a very troublesome teen, always being told off by the police for vandalising people's property, criminal damage and drug abuse. His two lowlife friends Gregory Thornhill and Robert York were just as bad, and throughout the town they were both feared and despised. Anyone different was immediately at risk, as the boys were incredibly prejudice against anyone of a different race, sexual orientation or historic background. They liked to think themselves as an elite vigilante force, taking pleasure in inflicting pain on those that they deemed as deserving their brutal punishment. One day however, they took it too far.

Ivan Simmons was a lonely man, and after the death of his wife spent the majority of his time with his young son Geoffrey. He'd never hurt anybody, but he was singled out by the 3 boys. A sick burglar whose calling card was to kill every pet in the house was at large, and Frederick Baldwin was one of his victims. After his beloved greyhound Trevor was found beheaded and hung by his back legs from the washing line. Frederick's first reaction was to blame someone, and when Ivan's name was subtly brought up as a rumour, the 'shit hit the fan' as they say…

…Geoffrey was awoken by a strange scratching noise that seemed to be on ground level, and slowly getting closer to the car. He sat up and looked out of the window into the darkness. The fog seemed angrier than it had been before, and with a clear head he began to feel both frightened and confused about the changes that were going on around him. There was no sign of Gary, and he knew that he'd been out for at least an hour or so. He could be anywhere, and he feared the worst.

Distant sirens could be heard, and as he exited the car, he could feel the world change around him. Taking a flashlight from the glove box he aimed a beam into the dingy street beyond. As the darkness descended on the town of Foresbrook, the fog retreated into whatever primeval cracks it had ventured from and was replaced by fiery black clouds that shrouded the rooftops and made it very difficult to see further than a few meters in front, even with the strong beam of the flashlight.

Geoffrey plunged his free hand into a pocket and withdrew a scrap of red paper.

'Welcome to our world Geoff. Don't worry about Gary, he's safe with me, but I think that silly villager told you too much about what's happening around here. Don't worry though, I still need you, so don't die! Roger xxx'

Geoffrey was very confused, and convinced that he was going insane. And yet, the world did not seem like a delusion. It was crystal clear, albeit the darkness; and his head was refreshingly clear. He began to understand how people with psychotic delusions could convince themselves that what they were seeing was real.

Looking at the paper, he was most concerned about the last line; 'I still need you, so don't die!' What was going to kill him? Did this 'Roger' know something that he didn't?

He jogged down towards the main street, aiming the torch through every fetid archway and filthy window. There were no signs of life. It was like he'd awoken into some kind of twilight zone or nuclear wasteland. Everything was scorched and blackened, like Foresbrook had been witness to the deepest depths of hell and resurfaced only as a shell of what it had once been. The air raid sirens continued to balefully moan in the distance, and the strange scratching noise that he'd initially heard upon wakefulness niggled at the edge of his hearing irritably.

At the end of the street he turned to face the town hall; a large temple-like building with a large clock set in stone above the door. Feeling agoraphobic from the bizarre open and yet hideously dark atmosphere, he climbed the blackened steps and took refuge under the eaves of the building. Crouched behind a column he tried to regulate his breathing and slow his pounding heart. He'd never experienced anything close to this, except the occasional bad LSD trip back in his youth, and it was beginning to get to him. He slapped himself hard around the face, relishing the stinging blow.

'I've been a homicide detective for most of my working career, seeing dead bodies nearly every day, so surely I should be able to pull myself together and find a way out of this hell!' he scolded himself out loud. He stood up firmly and marched back down the steps and into the street, intending to drive back to Ashfield and officially report the disappearance of Gary and also the school bus, possibly twisting the truth. They'd never believe the story that he had to tell.

The torch beam bobbed up and down as Gary ran down the street and back towards his car. As it began to manifest itself out from the oily gloom, a hideous buzzing noise started up around him.

Crouched over the bonnet of his car was a lank, dirty, naked figure. Life!

'Hey! What's going on?' Geoff shouted at the figure. In response, the figure briefly twitched and groaned in grim, demonic ecstasy.

Geoffrey's eyes opened wide as the figure curled around to face him, its innards grotesquely coiling and tensing under its papery, translucent skin. Geoffrey jumped back as it crawled on four obscene long and gangly limbs towards him, jittering and chattering as it did so. He saw through his fear that two of the four limbs ended in two curled claws or talons that were silvery grey in colour and clinked harshly on the tarmac as it skittered towards him. Paralysed by fear, the only thing that he could do was stand and watch as the creature crawled to within a meter from him. It hissed and leapt onto two limbs, its clawed forearms held out in front of it menacingly. Its tubular head twitched side to side and it's wide set of maroon lips snapped open and shut in a sinister, disturbing way.

Geoffrey seemed to regain some feeling in his legs, so he began to take some steps backwards. The monster snapped at him, and the horrible disjointed lips seemed to scrunch into what looked like a smile. It began to follow him, brandishing the cruel looking talons with evil intent.

With a sudden twist of his body, Geoffrey span round and began to run away from the monster like his life depended on it, which it probably did. He headed back up towards the town hall hoping that it would give him refuge from the assailant that was practically nipping at his heel. Throwing open the door (which was suspiciously ajar) he entered the large, once well furnished lobby. He slammed the door shut behind him with a solid thud. He grabbed the nearest object, a burnt out chair, and shoved it forcefully under the door handle just in time to see it rattle in its frame in danger of being ripped off its hinges. He looked around the repugnantly burnt out room, noting how the floor had been replaced with rusted metal bars covered with an equally rusted iron mesh. He needed a weapon! Running over to a burnt table he grabbed one of the steel legs and tried to twist it off, but to no avail. Using like a lever, he rocked it back and forth in an attempt to snap it off, but still, it was too strong. Grunting with frustration he kicked the table and sent it skidding across the floor, just as a second monster appeared down the hall, identical to the one before, and twitching just as spasmodically. It raised its talons and made its advance, hopping over the various obstacles in its way with some agility. Geoffrey searched for an exit, and seeing a small green door he dived towards it, entering into some kind of small conference room. A large television mounted on a wall bracket spewed out white noise, and the long table was covered in what looked like dismembered doll parts. He picked one up and stared at it for a moment. In the middle of the table was what looked like a mannequin, and it was sat atop the endless piles of plastic arms, legs and heads like some kind of creepy monarch. He leaped up onto the table and sweeping the toy parts aside noticed that the mannequin was holding in one hand a small box of bullets, and in the other, a silver barrelled gun. Gary's gun! He ripped it out of the dolls grasp and loaded it. Was it functional? He would soon find out!

The two monsters appeared at the door he'd entered through, and since he'd made no attempt to block it, entered the room with little problem. Raising the gun he took aim and fired a slug deep into the brain of the first monster. It penetrated deep into the left side of its head, but with little effect. The monster twitched irritably but continued to advance. A clawed hand shot over the table, ripping the mannequin clean into two pieces, narrowly missing Geoffrey's legs. He jumped off the other side of the table, took aim, and fired a quick succession of bullets into the monsters lips. The left side of its face sprayed outwards in what looked like a mixture of blood and faeces, splattering the wall and letting an awful stench into the room. The creature began to take notice of its injuries, collapsing onto the table and squealing feebly, just as the second jumped up into the pile of dolls next to it. Geoffrey took careful aim and fired one shot into where its heart should have been, but to no avail. The monster leapt at him, and he narrowly avoided a claw to the face with a carefully timed dive to the side. The monster hissed, its lips quivering violently. It dived forwards again and Geoffrey, now lying flat on the floor rolled under the table, once again narrowly missing death. He pointed the gun at its face as it ducked down to find him and fired a bullet straight into the back of its head as it opened its mouth. It screamed but still refused to die. Rolling further under the table he managed to stay just out of reach as it swiped around him like a cat trying to grab a mouse. It hissed irritably and began to venture closer towards him. He fired another couple of shots into it, and eventually, it stopped moving.

Climbing out from under the table he checked his ammo clip. One bullet left, including the box of bullets. He was about to leave the room but something was wrong. Something was missing… The first monster! He spun round just in time to see it flying through the air towards him. He squeezed the trigger, instantly killing it with a perfect headshot. It didn't however, lose any of its momentum and therefore slammed into him with great speed. Geoffrey flew across the room, landing several feet away with the hulking, putrid mess lying directly on top of him. Somehow without throwing up, he managed to heave himself up and hobble out of the room.

He walked deeper into the dark, waterlogged town hall, reloading the gun as he did so. There were many deeply disturbing things going on around him as he walked through. At one point the iron mesh in the walls gave way to a series of metal cages, each of which containing something wrapped in a white sheet. These figures twitched every now and again and he could see the rise and fall of their tiny chests as they tried to breath. Each one was of course, utterly drenched in blood. Further into the building was a series of bloodied corpses hanging from the ceiling by their own innards, tiny droplets of blood dripping down onto his head from above.

What disturbed him the most however was large painting on the wall. It depicted the clear likeness of Frederick Baldwin, one of his father's killers. He was cradling the headless corpse of his murdered dog, but instead of looking upset, he looked very, very angry. Behind him stood a cloaked figure with stunningly piercing green eyes, and it seemed to be whispering in Frederick's ear. A plaque on the bottom of the painting stated in clear, block capitals: 'THE RUMOUR'

Geoffrey some how managed to tear his eyes away from the painting and continue his journey down the impossibly long corridor. There was no way that he was still somehow in the town hall. He must've walked at least two miles by now, and no building in such a tiny town was that long. He seemed to be on a downwards slope which was subtle, but considering the length of the corridor, must have sent him far, far underground. He considered turning back, but for what purpose, to wear himself out but still be in the centre of hell on earth? No, he had to keep going.

- - - - -

Katie ran and ran until she was sure that the Pyramid Head was no longer following her. She turned around and pointed the torch into the darkness behind her. Nothing. Was she safe? She calmed down and began to inspect her surroundings, wondering where the hell she was. She was further underground than she'd first thought. She'd woken up in a subway, and had gone down several flights of stairs since then. How far down was she?

The trickling of water was the only sound she could hear. The air raid sirens had disappeared from her field of hearing, and they'd been faint to begin with anyway. She was in some kind of underpass. Graffiti covered what little concrete had not melted away into wire mesh, and she could see white lines on the ground in front of her. Was she now stood in a road? And underground road? The concept seemed strange, but not unlikely considering what had already happened. Other than the white lines, she had no idea what kind of surroundings she was in, as the torch beam only penetrated a few meters.

She huddled into the warm folds of Philips coat and pressed on into the darkness, not knowing how long the tunnel was, how long it would take to traverse, or what was on the other side.

After a considerable amount of walking, she was ready to give up until she saw a large, black shape in the middle of the road. A car! She raced over to it and pressed her face to the window in an attempt to see inside. There, nestled on the back seat was one of the large, pale creatures that the Pyramid Head had butchered. She recoiled in fear and began to back away from the vehicle, being as quite and discreet as she could. The creature noticed her regardless, and scrabbled out of the car through some hidden exit. It chattered its lips and stalked towards her, flexing its wrist blades menacingly.

She collapsed onto the floor and hung her head in her hands. She was sick of running now. She was clearly insane, so she decided to let the monster be the supreme judge of her fate. I crawled up to her, tasting the air and relishing her suicidal decision. She squeezed her eyes shut, but there was no final blow. Three clear gunshots rang out and the creature fell on its side, vomiting faeces from its gnarly lips all over her legs causing her to leap back in disgust.

Geoffrey had finally emerged from the lengthy corridor and had entered a large tunnel to see a helpless girl at the mercy of one of the horrible monster he'd battled back in the town hall. He'd fired 3 shots into it, but knowing that they could take more bullets than that, he ran over to get a more direct shot.

'Get the hell out of the way!' he yelled at the girl, pointing his gun at the creatures head and firing another couple of shots into it. The monster shuddered one last time, and then stopped moving.

'What's going on?' the girl sobbed, her pretty face streaked with tears of fear. He kneeled down beside her and put his arm around her.

'I don't know, but we have to get out of here. C'mon.' He helped her to her feet.

Thump, Thump, Thump, Thump

She jumped from his hold, the expression of pure terror plastered across her face.

'We have to leave! He's coming, he's coming, oh god….' she spluttered, tripping over her own feet and falling over onto the wire mesh once again.

Geoffrey's face screwed up. 'Who's coming?' he asked.

She tried to answer, but she couldn't speak, she was too anxious to even say one word. She got to her feet and began to run. Geoffrey started after her, calling for her to stop. The thumping was getting closer, and he really didn't want to see what was making the noise, so he gave chase, plunging further and further into the darkness…

- - - - -

Philip had found his way to the 3rd floor, and was scouring all the corridors for room 201. However, there were some turnings on the map that weren't actually there. He wondered whether or not this was due to the 'change' that the hospital had undergone. He turned a corner that wasn't on the map and was faced by another demonic nurse. Without thinking he ran at her and stabbed his blade deep into where her eye socket should have been. It sunk in all the way to the handle, so far in fact that when he came to pull it out he found that he couldn't. Kicking her to the ground he stamped hard on her chest, resulting in a few pronounced cracks and more give than was healthy. Using this as a point of leverage, he yanked the blade from her face and stamped down hard on her rotten, slippery throat. This harsh action caused the head to separate from the shoulders with a splat. Philip smiled a smile of grim satisfaction, followed by a sense of self loathing. How could he take pleasure in such a disgusting act? He weighed the knife in his hand, hating and resenting the instrument of destruction, but feeling safe and secure in its presence at the same time.

He continued down the corridor, getting more and more depressed and heavy-footed as he did so. He'd never find his mothers room… Then something caught his eye; a room that seemed to give off an ethereal white glow. Whilst the rest of the hospital was rotted, rusted and full of death, this one door and the wall and floor surrounding it was clean of all affliction. It looked like a normal hospital, just in that small area. The number on the door was 35. How was number 35 on the 3rd floor? Surely it would be on the ground floor.

He pulled Rogers note from his pocket and took another look: 'Anyway, stay away from rooms 35 and 163. Jimmy and George are a proper pair of assholes!'

What was in room 35 that Roger didn't want him to see? Philip was very curious, and also feeling defiant against the rules that his brother had given him. He was a fully grown man, he could do hat he wanted! He walked up to the door, turned the handle, opened the door just a crack…

…he swilled another mouthful of scotch, downing his sorrows once again. George Rosten sat in a comfortable leather chair behind a plush wooden desk in a cosy little study, lost in his own thoughts. Valtiel visited him in his dreams last night, giving him the 'divine message' he so desperately sought. There was no way the rest of The Order would believe him though. Jimmy Stone was the real master, the real leader of the Valtiel sect, and nobody would believe that it was he, not Jimmy who was the chosen one.

Getting up he made his way outside and into the vast hallway of the large manor house. Waiting for him was Sharon Blake DARKNESS , the young woman who had moved into Silent Hill only a few weeks before. She refused to join The Order, but Jimmy insisted that the prophecy proclaimed her importance in the Descent of the Holy Mother. How? Well, Jimmy was not known for his clarity, and a lot of things that he said and did didn't make much sense. He was seldom mistaken though, so many Order members gave him the benefit of the doubt with Sharon Blake DARKNESS .

'Are you ready to join us Blake?' Rosten asked, running a hand through his sleek black hair.

'Never!' she spat. 'All I want to do is live here in peace with my family. Is that too much to ask?'

Rosten shrugged. 'Valtiel calls for you Blake. The Seal of Metatron burns with white hot fire when you are near. You cannot run from your destiny.'

Sharon Blake DARKNESS shook her head in disbelief. 'You people are mad… You, Jimmy Stone… All of you!' With that she turned and fled from the manor, down the moonlit path and into the night.

Rosten stood and watched her, a blank look on his face. The silhouette of Jimmy Stone manifested itself behind him. 'She'll be back George, whether she likes it or not!'