Betcha guys never thought you'd see THIS, eh? Surprise surprise, and happy St. Patrick's day, I suppose. I've actually had this written from before I uploaded the first chapter, and thus my supreme laziness in not even bothering to upload it is confirmed.

Anyway, enjoy if you're still following it.

Disclaimer: The usual. Don't own it, don't sue me.

Warnings: Still none as yet.

The woods around Silent Hill were just that: silent. Yet Leon couldn't help feeling a sense of creeping dread as he drove his rented jalopy through the mess of trees lining an ill-kept road. The gearbox shrieked at him when he tried to shift to third, and the agent swore as he considered, not for the first time, whether or not lighting the derelict vehicle ablaze was a bad idea. Running it into a tree also wasn't half bad; the way he saw it, it'd be more like he was putting the old Pinto out of its misery.

Not only did his ride refuse to shift above second, the headlights were also near to death-a fact Leon had learned, and was still learning the hard way, as he carefully navigated through the woods in the dark. Leon couldn't say for sure when it had suddenly become night, as he was sure he'd left in the middle of the day, and Toluca lake lay less than a half hour's drive from Ashfield. Yet here he was, trying to keep his rattler of a car on a barely-visible-even-by-daylight dirt road in the dark, while also trying to keep an eye out for anything that may have looked suspicious.

As it turned out, he needn't have looked that hard, as his need for 'anything suspicious' was shortly filled by the sight of a small, mustard-colored car sitting at the front of a chain-link gate. Leon felt a strong twinge of jealousy when he pulled over to it and stalled his car to a stop-as the key failed to turn backwards-at the realization that the yellow vehicle actually had working headlights. It was only after he'd gotten out and begun to inspect the car that he came to realize it was still on and running, the brake pedal stuck down, and the driver nowhere to be seen.

Still, someone had been there recently, as Leon could tell from the footprints that led up to the driver's door and away, towards the chain link gate. Squinting, the agent shined his flashlight into the dark beyond the fence, seeing only a continuation of the forest. After checking the gate and finding it unlocked, he stepped through, briefly considering what fate his car might have if he left it out there. Then he growled to himself, knowing damn well that even the most desperate car thief would probably pass on the hunk of junk he'd been rented.

"Hello?" he called into the dark, though he doubted he'd be getting a response, even if the owner of the car was nearby. He decided to follow a fairly well-worn path between the trees, keeping his eyes peeled for any sign of either a person or the lake he'd originally come out here to investigate. The feeling of dread returned, and as his scalp prickled he turned, only for his flashlight to be met with the sight of a particularly menacing… tree.

Uttering another oath, Leon tried to set aside the nausea setting into his guts, and also to ignore a headache that was beginning to pulse and prod at his temples. As he progressed through the woods, however, his stomach only dropped further, and his head began to pound harder. Yet his intrigue forced him to press on, despite the pain, if only to satisfy his growing curiosity about just what was happening in this town. Rather suddenly, an intense ringing barged into his hearing, and he winced, forced to his knees by the sudden spike in pain, his flashlight rolling away when he dropped it, forgotten under the onslaught. The white noise only intensified, and he clutched at his head, groaning with the effort it took to remain lucid.

In the end, the fight for consciousness was too much for the agent, and Leon found himself sprawled on the forest floor, succumbing to the blackness that was so welcoming in face of the headache that had come upon him.

"Temptation is complete, and soon Source will join her…" A voice, on the edge of Leon's mind. "But who is this? This is not the mind of a Sacrament…"

"The Receiver is the last. This is but a bystander." A second voice, whispering with the first. "He should be eliminated."

A third, lower voice joined the others, chuckling softly. "Let him go free, for now. The Receiver… will no doubt enjoy the company."

Awareness returned slowly, and with markedly less pain than leaving it behind. Leon was surprised with the fact that his headache was gone, but he took care with rousing himself, sitting up slowly, and blinking into the mild fog that had formed in the time he had been passed out. How long had it been? He reached in search of his flashlight, clicking it on and off when his hand found it, grumbling to himself; the batteries had apparently gone dead.

Standing, he took a glance around, not seeing anything to tell him that he'd been moved in the time since he'd been collapsed on the ground. Summoning up his clearest recollection, he turned in the direction that he guessed he'd come from, starting off that way. Despite his certainty, however, he found himself wandering for what felt like hours, meeting no chain link fence, nor hearing the sound of the still-running car that had first led him to investigate the area. Worse still, the temperature was beginning to drop, and a thick fog was starting to set in around him. Leon huddled into his jacket to no relief, jumping when a sudden noise off to his right caught him off-guard. It sounded like… growling. It was shortly followed by a far more disturbing sound: that of metal hitting flesh and crunching bone.

Readying his ever-at-hand handgun, he advanced slowly towards a small bunch of bushes and tree branches that obscured his view, from behind which he assumed the sound had come. Preparing himself, he charged through the mess of plant life, gun raised and finger ready to pull the trigger. He nearly did, at the sight he was met with: that of a man, lead pipe in hand, standing over what appeared to be a dog, and he was… crunching its head in two with his foot.

Leon was understandably unnerved, even more so when the man jerked 'round to him, raising his weapon threateningly, the pipe still dripping blood from the unfortunate canine that lay dead at his feet. It was only a sudden realization that kept Leon from putting a bullet between the man's eyes: the man was shaking. Not with rage, or psychosis, but with fear. A deep, primal fear that was etched into every one of his features; it only ebbed away when he must have realized Leon wasn't some creature out to remove his throat.

"Who are you?" Leon was surprised by the question, and also by the lank tone with which it was spoken. Like the man hadn't just crushed in the skull of a dog, after presumably wailing on it with that pipe he was still holding. The only explanation the agent could come up with was 'shock', but the man's green eyes seemed clear enough. At least, Leon assumed they were; it was difficult to see under the man's mop of brown hair.

Taking out his badge, Leon held it up to the pipe-wielding stranger, saying slowly, "Leon Kennedy. I'm here to investigate the murders and disappearances that have been happening around Silent Hill. And you?"

"Henry." Again, spoken with a mild voice, and the man-Henry-lowered his weapon entirely, watching Leon quietly. "You're not from around here?"

Leon shook his head. "No. Are you the owner of a yellow vehicle, parked but still running near here?" The dead dog nearby was becoming difficult for Leon to ignore, but he did his best, figuring it was better to question after this man than worry about someone's dead pet.

Henry's eyed widened slightly, but he shook his head. "You saw it, too? I found this in the driver's seat-do you know what it means?" He reached into the back pocket of a pair of well-worn blue jeans, pulling out a small notebook of sorts, with a sheaf of papers neatly folded and organized within it. After filing through some of the pages, he took out what looked to be a page out of a memo pad:

I'm not sure what that nosy guy meant when he said:

"His home is the orphanage in the middle.

The lake is southwest. So the opposite is northeast."

That nosy guy said one other thing I don't understand:

"If you bring the dug-up key, you can't go back. Put it away somewhere before you return there."

Leon frowned, utterly baffled by the note as he handed it back. "Sorry, it's just gibberish to me. Do you know who owns the car, at least?"

Again, Henry shook his head. "No, but there was another note in the car that I didn't take. It was finished with Jasper Gein, so I can only assume that he's the owner, whoever he is."

Nodding, Leon accepted this logic, though he had no clue who Jasper Gein could be. No one in town had ever mentioned the name, nor anyone who might have been considered 'nosy'. "I'm sorry, what was your name again?"

"Henry," he clarified, not seeming to take offense to the fact that Leon had missed it earlier. "Henry Townsend."

It took a moment for the information to click, and Leon inwardly cursed himself for missing something so obvious. "Townsend? From room 302 at South Ashfield Heights?" It was hard to believe that this man could be the extreme introvert who'd locked himself up in his room for the last five days. After all, wasn't he supposed to be in his room? From Henry's change in expression, Leon could tell that his assumption was correct "But how…?"

"It… it's difficult…" Henry frowned, suddenly appearing to be somewhat… awkward. Perhaps he was an introvert after all, just not to the point that everyone in his building suspected. Perhaps he'd just taken a vacation, and forgotten to tell-? No. No one went on vacations that involved smashing in the heads of innocent animals, in the middle of creepy forests. "There was this hole in my bathroom that showed up five days after the chains, and…"

"Chains?"

"Y… yeah. On my front door. Couldn't get out." He seemed to be having some difficulty explaining his story; as if it was too much to put into words. Leon didn't even know if he ought to be trusting a single word this man said, though he did seem to be genuine and innocent enough. "The first time I went through the hole, I was in a subway, though. And there was this…" he took pause, no doubt trying to find a particular word, "… woman, and I offered to help her get out of the station, but she…" Henry stopped altogether, putting a hand over his mouth, visibly shaken by whatever it was he had seen.

Trying to find a way to distract him, should Henry get too tightly caught by fear once again, Leon went on with the questioning, "So how did you get here, in the woods, from the subway?"

Henry took a breath, seeming to regain his composure, and his expression returned to what appear to be a blank state. Leon wished he could control himself half as well. "The same way. Through a hole in my bathroom wall." He blinked, a thought seeming to occur to him. "I could show you this world's end of it. The hole, that is; if you want to."

Though Leon had a few misgivings about entering a hole that supposedly led into a stranger's apartment, he was intrigued, and he damned himself for it. His interest was difficult to silence when it had become this piqued, and, besides, it could only help in his investigation. What was happening to Henry-or supposedly happening to him-was strange and unusual, was it not? It certainly fell under something that 'needed further inquiry'. The dog was beginning to smell, anyway. "Show me."

The following walk was rather uneventful, though Henry kept a good hold on his pipe throughout the journey. At one point, Leon had pulled out a cigarette, offering one to Henry, who had politely and quietly declined with a shake of the head. Leon had only shrugged and proceeded to light up, figuring that Henry would voice his complaints, if he had any to begin with, about his suicidal habit. He snuffed it out with the heel of his boot when they came upon what Henry had wanted to show him: a hole in the wall of a rather industrial-looking building.

Leon didn't even know where to begin with his mental questions, though his main concerns were Why is there a factory in the middle of a forest? and Why is there a hole in said building? The hole itself was rather odd: perfectly circular, a little wider than would be needed for a man to comfortably fit, with a rimming of red markings, which sharply defined it against the plain grey of the concrete wall. When he tried to peer into the depths of it, he found himself unable, afraid to be lost to the unfathomable darkness that greeted his eyes. He couldn't imagine anyone willingly going into something like what was before him…

"This is it," Henry stated unnecessarily. He stepped toward the hole, glancing back towards Leon. "D… do you want to go in, or…?" As if he could sense Leon's insecurities. Yes, the episode with the Las Plagas had solidified the agent's courage to an astounding degree, and there were few tasks in the world now that gave him pause, but staring into that void of blackness most definitely sent a shudder down the his spine, a feeling he had nearly forgotten.

Still, he knew what he had to do, so he swallowed his doubt and did his best to forget about it. "I do. I'm curious to see if this really does end up back in your apartment."

Nodding, Henry threw his pipe in ahead of him, before following it along, crawling away into the darkness. It took Leon a few moments more than Henry to summon up the stomach to do the same, but he made himself do so, using his elbows and knees to drag himself into the black. Of a sudden, all he could see was black, and he had just a moment's notice to berate himself about this being a bad idea, before he lost consciousness for the second time that day.

There we go; another piece of the story for you guys to gobble up and hunger for more over. Hopefully I'll force my brain to spit up what the plot I was aiming for was... preferably before another year goes by, eh?