chapter 6: alchemilla hospital
Everything in Silent Hill was bland, like a town deserted for years should look. The fog made colors seem desaturated, paints peel, and everything is quiet as death. So was the hospital. It was done in shades of forest green and the woods were a cherry red.
Several waiting chairs lined the walls, done in the same colors. The reception desk was to his right. For curiosity he rang the bell. It didn't seem to have an echo. It was a little unsettling. A map was lying spread out on the desk. He picked it up and added it with the map of Silent Hill. He then jumped as a gun was fired nearby. His hope flared. "Maybe its Cybil…" He thought.
He walked around the reception desk. Double doors were at the end of the short hall that lead to a wing with restrooms and stairs and a single door was to his right that led to the examination room. He went through it. As he stepped in, he saw a tiny pool of blood coming from an odd parasite looking thing. It was lying at someone's feet. He looked up.
It was a man in a gray suit that looked around the age of fifty. His eyes had deep wrinkles underneath them, and he was slumped in the chair with a revolver in one hand. He looked up as Harry entered, and he immediately was on his feet, the gun in Harry's face. "Wait, don't shoot!"
Harry yelped, raising his hands in defense. "Keep talking." The man said in a deep, gravely tone. "My name is Harry Mason, I came here for a vacation." The man lowered his gun and slumped back into the chair, looking even more tired than before. "Thank God, another human being."
Harry lowered his hands and knelt down beside the man. "Do you work at this hospital?" He asked, looking into the mans eyes, which looked older than he did. "Yeah, I'm Dr. Michael Kaufmann." Harry smiled.
"Okay, so maybe you can tell me what the hell is going on?" Kaufmann shook his head.
"I was taking a nap in the staff room. When I woke up everything was like this."
"Well, have you seen a little girl around here? She's wearing a blue and white plaid dress and a sweater underneath. She has short black hair, brown eyes, and only seven years old. It's my daughter. I wrecked my car when I got here. When I came to she was gone."
Kaufmann shook his head. "No I haven't, I'm sorry. But with all these monsters…" Harry hung his head. Kaufmann placed a hand on his shoulder. "I didn't mean to upset you." He said. "But look at that." He pointed at the tiny monster. "Have you ever seen such abberations? Ever even heard of such things? You and I both know monsters don't exist." Harry nodded. Kaufmann stood up and reached down and picked up a brown leather briefcase. "Your wife, she's here with you?" He asked while he was bent over.
"She died four years ago. It's just me and my daughter." Harry said, trying to keep the pain out of his voice. Kaufmann straightened up. "I see, I'm sorry." He took a step past Harry.
"I have some things to do and then I'm leaving town. Good luck Harry."
"Yeah, you to." Harry said, and the doctor was gone. He had no idea why he didn't tell Kaufmann all the roads were gone. The room was all dirty white tiles with a single hospital bed and an IV dropper. Harry, finding nothing interesting in this room, left the room and went into a second wing of the hospital. Both restrooms were locked, along with the office, storeroom, and doctor's office.
The kitchen opened however. It was a large, typical kitchen. He opened the refrigerator and was glad to see that it worked and had several chocolate flavored medical drinks.
He took one and opened it up. It was by far not the best thing he had never drank, but it cured his dry throat. Along the sink were several clear squeeze bottles. He left the kitchen and went into the room beside the kitchen, which was the Director's Room. It was in a terrible state of disassembly.
Cabinet doors were open, books were lying across the floor, chairs were flipped over, a desk was flipped, and the window was smashed, allowing a slight breeze to enter the room. He walked over to the desk and saw shattered glass and a blood colored liquid. He knelt down, noting how the liquid was spread out from the glass. It looked smashed on purpose. It had an odd smell to it.
He stood up, wondering how he could take it with him.
He left the Director's Room and went back into the kitchen, grabbing one of the squeeze bottles. He returned, kneeling down and squeezing what he could of the unknown liquid. He raised it up to the light. It looked thinner than blood but had the same color and texture of it. He stuck the plastic bottle into his pocket and left the Director's Room. The two doors left was the basement staircase door and the elevator. He walked over and hit the call button. The elevator didn't respond. He tried the door to the staircase. It opened.
At the bottom of the steps was a door barely visible in the shadows. Why in the hell did it get so dark? He headed down the steps, opening the door to the basement.
He turned on the flashlight and checked the map. There was a morgue, a storeroom, a boiler room, and a generator room. Harry didn't care if the door to the morgue was open or not, he didn't want to go inside that room.
The storeroom lock was jammed and the boiler room was locked. The generator room however opened easily. Inside was chilly, and the machinery wasn't on. It powered Intensive Care rooms, service elevators, heat, lights, and the public elevators. He turned it on, and it immediately roared to life. Satisfied, he left the generator room and he tried the service elevator. The doors opened.
"Yes!" Harry whispered. He stepped inside. He had already checked the first floor, so he hit the second floor button. After a few seconds the elevator stopped and he stepped out. This was a small room with a couch and double doors, which were jammed. He entered the elevator and hit the third floor button. Again it went up. This area was a replica of the room on the second floor, but it had a nightstand and non-working lamp beside the couch. He pulled on the double doors, which were to firmly closed.
Discouraged, Harry entered the elevator again, ready to search the first floor more thoroughly when he noticed something very peculiar. There was a fourth floor button. He knew for a fact it wasn't there a second ago. He had remembered thinking how large the hospital was when he stood outside of it, marveling at the three floors. There was no fourth floor.
Extremely curious, he pushed the button and the elevator began to move. His heart sank as he heard something in the distance. Something distinct, something deadly. He heard the siren.