Up and up Philip went. After leaving his mother with a swift kiss, he bolted from the room and began to make his way up to the roof. He had no idea how he was going to get there, but it made sense to follow the stairs up, and so that is what he did. He was not troubled on his journey, as he was running too fast for any of the nurses to attack him, but his pace slowed after he'd ascended another 3 floors. His legs ached with fatigue, but he had to keep moving if he wanted to save Rachel from whatever fate his twisted elder brother was planning. Turning yet another corner he slipped in a wide, sticky puddle, and fell flat on his face. He groaned as the previous headaches that had eventually faded came flooding back, and groaned once again when he saw the creature clinging to the ceiling right above him.

'Come on little brother! You were always a klutz!' it hissed in a barely audible whisper. Then it was gone. Gone through a hole in the ceiling that bit its way upwards through the tiles, the insulation and the tarmac. He could see grey sky through the gash, and felt cold wind stinging his cheeks.

'This must be the top floor, and this hole must be the only way up there' he thought. He jumped up and reached for it, but it was too high. He quickly searched for a ladder, or a table to stand on.

'PHILIP!' shrieked Rachel from somewhere above him. Frantic, he barged into the nearest room; stomped the peeling face of a floored nurse that was clawing at his ankles, and grabbed the metal hospital bed. He dragged it out of the door, tore the mattress off and stood it on its headboard. Balancing carefully, he used it as a makeshift ladder, and managed to gain the extra couple of feet he needed. Clutching at the hole he felt the bed slide in the blood underneath him. With a clang it collapsed, and he was left hanging from the ceiling by a single piece of rough, yellow insulation. Gathering all his strength he somehow managed to claw his way through the hole and out onto the rooftop. Raw from the fibreglass insulation and numb from supporting his entire bodyweight, his aching fingers grasped the rusted bloody knife he'd come to see as his closest ally. He stood and looked around.

The first thing he noticed was the world itself. It was dull, grey and foggy; not dark, frightening and rotted. Was it only the inside that was corrupted? He shoved his head into the hole, and was delighted (if slightly confused) to find that although there was still a huge pool of blood and the metal skeleton of a hospital bed on the ground, it was now light green lino; and not rusted, bloody wire mesh. The hospital was normal again. He wondered if there would still be disembodied nurses patrolling the corridors.

Suddenly he remembered Roger and Rachel. He leapt upright, gripped his knife and looked around the roof for them. It was easier said than done, because the roof that he'd expected to be relatively flat consisted of various different levels, platforms, scaffolding and small decrepit huts, all of which combined to form a large, shanty town-like maze. Being as quite as he could, and running as fast as he dared, he darted across the rooftop. He assumed that Rachel would be held on a relatively flat area, and most likely he would have to kill his brother. Could he even be killed now? If so, would the world return to normal?

He quietly opened the door of a small wooden hut, (which looked very out of place) and peeked through a small grubby window. There she was! Rachel was suspended from what looked like a large weathervane, or a crude, badly constructed metal crucifix. The frame was held upright on a higher platform. A higher platform which he couldn't see the entirety of. Where was Roger hiding?

Leaving the hut he climbed onto a squashed trashcan and hoisted himself up onto the next section of roof.

'Philip? Oh my God, Philip! You have to save me!' sobbed Rachel when she caught sight of him. He immediately ran up to the metal device and tried to unhook her, but for some reason he could not figure out how she was attached to it.

'Philip!' came the deep and powerful voice of his elder brother, Roger Snow. Philip turned to face the tall, handsome, long haired figure standing tall and imposing on the highest section of the roof.

'Roger? What's been happening? What's going on?' Philip asked, squinting to make out Rogers facial features. He was strangely silhouetted against the cold, grey sky.

'You saw George', was the reply.

'Roger! Tell me! What, the fuck, is going on?' Philip replied angrily. He ran up, vaulted a table of hospital equipment which he suspected was left in his way purposefully. Roger turned and disappeared around a corner. Philip began to pursue, but was called back by his girlfriend. He ran back to free her, but there was Roger; stood calmly and placidly at the foot of the crucifix.

'Did you learn anything… interesting?'

Roger seemed entirely focused on the strange experiences that Philip had felt in Room 35. What was so important about the strange flashback?

'Errm… something about a George Rosten, and this weird guy called… Sullivan… What's this all about Roger?'

Rogers face remained cold and impartial.

'Do you know why you were brought here Philip?' he asked coolly.

Philip shrugged. 'I don't know. I thought I came here to visit you and Dad, but apparently there is something else going on,' he replied haughtily. He was losing his patience, but the horrible and lifeless power residing behind his brother's eyes was disconcerting.

'You shouldn't have gone in there Philip. This town holds a terrible and disturbing past… It would have been best for you to not to get involved. Just do your job and leave. You shouldn't have brought her…' He looked at Rachel with a strange, unplaced loathing that Philip did not understand.

'What is my job Roger? Why am I here? Besides!' he suddenly remembered. 'You wrote in the letter for me to specifically bring Rachel.'

Rogers face contorted suddenly, and the steel frame supporting Rachel squirmed into life. Writhing and contorting, it greatly pained the poor girl. He screams could still be heard even after it had consumed her, dragged her into its depths and devoured her. Was she still alive? Philip didn't even think Roger new. Leaping up onto the mangled heap, he screamed her name as he tried to dig her out. But it was like trying to dig her out of a cage covered in a hundred thick layers of steel.

Roger chuckled behind him. 'That's what I wanted her for. A bit of entertainment.'

Philip leapt round, vexed and upset. The only thing that stopping him from being completely distraught was the strangely optimistic feeling that she was not dead; just trapped within the belly of the mechanical beast.

'What do you want from me?' Philip growled, speeding over towards his brother and aggressively grabbing him by the lapels of his shirt.

In an instant, Rogers face completely transformed, and he became the scaly wolf-like creature Philip had originally seen on the hospital ceiling. No distinguishable features could be made out due to the intense speed at which it moved. Philip felt himself hurled to the ground with considerable force, and the thing that was Roger darted back onto the higher rooftop before instantly becoming Roger again. It had all happened too fast for Philips brain to handle. All he saw was his brother standing there; solitary; unmoving; motionless and emotionless.

'What do I want from you Philip? Preferably not getting assaulted!' He brushed down his shirt and jacket smartly, looking down his nose at Philip with the harsh contempt of brotherly rivalry.

He paused for a while.

'You have a power Philip. You have a power which is the secret to all of this; the key' he began; raising his arms in reference to the grey, creature polluted world that Philip had come to despise.

'I don't have any powers, Roger,' was his dismissive reply. 'At least tell me what you mean by "powers".'

Roger shrugged. 'I do not know brother. They don't trust me that that information, although I do not quite know why.'

'Who is "they",' Philip asked; intrigued at the development. Perhaps this "they" would hold some of the answers he sought, if Roger was incapable, or just unwilling to tell him.

'That's not important, Philip. The only important thing is to take you to them. They have plans for you, and you will help them. If you know what is best for them.'

Philip knew his brother, and if there was even the tiniest shred of the boy he'd once looked up to, he knew how to throw him off course.

'So what you're saying,' he began. 'Is that, you have been ordered to take me to "them", even though you're not trusted enough to know why they want me? I'm your brother for Christ's sake! They could want to kill me!'

Roger considered.

'I get the feeling that you are being used, Roger. Look; I know you had a hard time of it looking after Dad all those years. I would've helped, but I was young at the time, and Mom told me all about –'

'Are you blaming Mom for this?' Roger interrupted. He'd successfully been sidetracked, but Philip knew that he had to play it carefully if he wasn't to turn Roger against their mother.

'Well, kind of… you have to remember though; she had no obligation to look after him. They are divorced after all.'

Roger's eyes narrowed. 'But what about me, Philip? Why couldn't she help him for me? Why don't we bring her up here and ask her…'

Philip tensed suddenly.

The strange metal leviathan originally holding Rachel twisted and writhed with unseen forces. It must have run deep into the hospital, because as it ripped itself free the very foundations shook, and a long, metallic body slithered its form out onto the roof. Initially snake-like, it quickly coiled in on itself; becoming a large silver ball. The ball opened up and out fell Rachel; shaken, but very much alive.

'Philip!' she wept, quickly running over and throwing herself into his arms. 'What's happening Philip? What's going on?'

'Shhh, calm down. I'll explain all I know when… well, if we get out of this,' he whispered gently. He could feel Rogers's eyes on him.

The ball opened up further, and the twisted metal began to form a large chair or a throne. Dahlia Snow lay sprawled out on the chair; asleep or passed out? Clearly Roger still held his mother in high regard, as despite its crudeness, the chair supported her surprisingly gently.

'Mother,' Roger whispered. Like a magical word, she immediately opened her eyes and sat up.

'Roger? What's going on Roger?'

She was dazed, confused and heavy lidded, like she had just awoken from deep sedation.

'Mom,' he said quietly. He glided over towards the chair, and the great steel ball fashioned some steps for him to ascend to her level. He reached her and took her by the hands. 'Why did you leave me with Dad? I was only a boy Mom, but you left me with him.'

Philip noticed that the presence of their mother made him calmer, more childlike, and most importantly, more human.

'You… you were very… you were very mature Roger. Your father, he didn't listen to me. You could control him. What have you done? What have you become?'

She suddenly noticed the steel behemoth that enveloped them both, and her eyes widened in fear.

'Oh my god! What is this thing Roger?'

She saw Philip stood some distance away, Rachel wrapped tightly in his arms.

'Philip! Help me!' she shrieked.

The seemed to upset Roger greatly. 'Mom? I won't hurt you, you know I won't,' he pleaded. However, Dahlia recoiled from his touch.

'Stay away from me! I do not know what this place has done to you, but you are not my son!'

Those last words stung Roger immensely, and with a low distressed moan he collapsed to his knees, sobbing uncontrollably.

Dahlia took the opportunity to leave the chair, and ran down the steps towards Philip, who was waiting for her.

The animate metal monstrosity constructed by Rogers strange and fantastic powers seemed to shake with his sorrow, and without being commanded wrapped itself around him soothingly. Soundlessly, it wrapped him in a tight steel cocoon and crawled back into the hole from which it had savagely ripped itself from.

'Mom! Rachel! You're both safe,' Philip cried happily, embracing them both tightly. 'I didn't think I'd see either of you again.'

They both returned the hug, weeping words of love, happiness and relief…

…Deep within the hospital bowels, Roger seethed with loneliness and resentment…

- - - - -

Roger's emotional defeat momentarily released Gary Lawson from whatever hold had bound him into his bed. Awakening from a state of catatonic sleep with a sudden jolt, he was amazed to find himself in a hospital bed. His vision was blurry, and he felt dizzy, but he was now awake… He closed his eyes for a minute or two to let his sight come back, and when it had, he looked around.

The bed had been made to hospital standards, and trapped him under its tightly wrapped sheets firmly, but snugly. Someone had taken the liberty of removing him from his clothes, and replacing them with a white, spotless hospital gown. He saw a needle in his arm, linked to a see-thru plastic bag on a long metal pole. His initial thought was that he'd been knocked out, and sent to the nearest hospital for treatment, but there was no lump on his head…

'Hello?' he called out groggily. 'Geoffrey? Are you there?'

There was an eerie silence throughout the building that he found unsettling. Surely there must be other people here.

Looking around, he decided to wait in his bed for a nurse to come and visit, but then he saw something so disgusting that he physically cried out, and nearly fell out of bed.

The bag attached to his arm was not full of blood, or other medical fluids, but contained fetid, stinking pond water, complete with algae, pondweed, and an assortment of flies, water beetles, and other small larvae. What was so horrible about it, was that this horrid mixture of filth and animal was connected directly to his arm; pumping it straight into his blood stream.

In concern for his health, he ripped the needle from his arm, leapt out of bed and ran out of the room, hoping to find a place where he could report the terrible standards of hygiene, and maybe someone who could contact Geoffrey for him.

He reached the lobby, and hammered on the bell at the reception. So far he'd seen nobody. Nobody at all. Sighing with annoyance and shivering from the cold draughts teasingly blowing up his gown, he jumped over the front desk and entered the small adjoining room. Within it was a multitude of useless papers, but it was warmer, so he decided to remain there for a while. He was very tempted to leave the hospital; after all, the exit was opposite the desk a mere 12 meters away. However, he felt unwilling to leave before getting some answers, or at least a set of warm clothes.

He decided to leaf through a few of the carefully sorted documents in a nearby cabinet, but found nothing of any real interest. One thing that he did notice was that every record was written in the same spidery scrawl, like one person had written them all. That would however, have been a literally impossible feat, as there were thousands upon thousands of detailed reports scattered all throughout the room.

Gary exited the room feeling more confused than when he'd entered. There was definitely something seriously wrong with the hospital… there was no doubt about that!

He wandered over to the double front doors and found them unlocked. He momentarily exited the building and found the outside just as grey, empty and cold as the inside of the hospital.

'Hey!' came a shout from behind him. He spun around and saw 3 figures running towards him; two women and one man. He recognised the man and one of the women, but didn't quite know where from…

'Oh my lord… people!' he shouted with glee.

The three did not crack even a small smile.

'Where did you come from?' the man asked.

'I don't know. I was in Foresbrook doing some… detective work, but then I kind of, passed out. I don't know why I passed out… Anyway, I woke up about 10 minutes in a hospital bed, so I got up and tried to find a nurse or somebody to tell me what had happened and how I got here,' Gary explained.

Philip laughed dryly. 'Trust me, you don't want to meet the nurses here…'

None of them understood.

Gary raised an eyebrow, but continued. 'Can I ask you a question?' He didn't wait for a reply. 'Do I know you? Have we met?'

The glitter of recognition spread across Philips face. 'No… Wait! You're the idiot that poured coffee on me in a diner earlier today, well yesterday!'

Rachel's face contorted with fear. 'Oh my god! It's the guy who chased us! You know, with his friend the crack head? What do you want with us?'

Gary held up his hands. 'Calm down love, I'm sure this is just one big misunderstanding…' but Philip had already grabbed him by the throat and pinned him up against the outside wall.

'What the fuck is going on? What do you know about what is going on? You're behind this aren't you?' he shouted accusingly.

'No, no, no!' Gary protested. He tried to push Philip away, but he was much too strong. 'I don't know what is going on. I woke up just now, honestly! Do you know where my 'crack head' friend is?' he asked.

Dahlia put her hand on Philips shoulder and gently pulled him away.

'Let him go honey. I'm sure we can trust him. Just be glad that we've found another human in this place,' she soothed.

Now this confused Gary. What the hell did she mean by that?

'Err, can you tell me what's going on?' he asked. 'Why isn't there any hospital staff?'

Philip eyeballed him suspiciously, but let him go, retreating back into the comfort of Rachel's embrace.

'We don't know. There's something very… very weird going on here. We don't know how to explain it.'

Gary narrowed his eyes to match Philips glare. 'Try me.'

'Well, there are no signs of human life other than you, my brother tried to kill me on the roof, and I've been attacked by faceless, zombie nurses. Satisfied?' he replied. The last part was news even to Dahlia and Rachel. Neither of them had encountered the nurses, and none had been encountered on their way down from the rooftop shanty town. Even the corpses of the ones Philip had killed had mysteriously disappeared.

Gary nodded slowly, only half mocking Philips story. 'Riiight… Can you at least tell me where we are? Or don't you know that either.'

Philip didn't like his tone, but answered regardless; mainly for the benefit of his girlfriend and mother who'd both woken up there after being kidnap by his deranged brother. 'Yeah, this place is Brookhaven. Down there is Foresbrook,' he said, pointing down the way he, Chris and Katie had come from. 'And down there is Silent Hill,' he said, pointing the opposite direction.

'Did you drive here?' Gary asked.

Philip nodded. 'Yeah, my car is round here. I guess you'll be wanting a ride out of this dump.'

'If you would be so kind,' nodded Gary.

'C'mon,' said Philip to Rachel and Dahlia. 'Let's get out of here and put this all behind us… Wait! Oh my god! Katie! She could still be alive,' he suddenly panicked, running back into the hospital.

The look on all of their faces was the expression of 'whom'?

He sensed this unspoken question and turned back to them.

'In Foresbrook I found a school bus in the woods full of injured kids, and two relatively uninjured ones came with me to this hospital. Shit! Those other kids will still be there in Foresbrook! We have to get help,' he blurted. None of them really followed what he was saying, except for Gary, whose face lit up at the mention of a school bus.

'What? Philip, what's going on?' Rachel asked. The poor girl was confused as it was, and he wasn't helping her with his crazy stories.

'Come and sit in the car with me. I'll explain it all,' he said.