Her footsteps echoed loudly.

The town of Silent Hill was dark and crumbling and silent. The buildings in the distance were gray, their windows dark and broken; not a chimney spilled smoke to the sky. The pavement was badly in need of repair. In some places, the cracks were several feet wide and several yards deep. Even if she had been able to drive into town, she would not have been able to drive any further on the broken terrain.

"Cozy, isn't it?"

She shrieked at the voice, her hand fumbling for her gun even as the man appeared beside her laughing. She took a deep breath and fought to compose herself, glaring at his trembling form.

"I didn't mean to scare you," he said.

"Well you did!" she snapped.

He shrugged and offered no apology, choosing instead to stand still, laughter oozing from his eyes. He was taller than Sarah by a foot or more and had he not been so unhealthily thin, he might have been attractive. Dark shadows rested beneath his blue eyes and his skin was pale and almost yellow. His hair was blond and dirty and cut unevenly to frame his face.

"I wouldn't go in there if I was you," he said.

His voice was softly accented, but strong and sure.

"I didn't ask if you would," she said, harsher than she meant, "But why not?"

Again, he shrugged. His eyes darkened at the rebuff, and he looked away. A shovel was slung over one shoulder, while a bag was tucked under his arm.

"I'm sorry," she said, "I didn't mean to snap at you. It's been a long morning."

He sniffed in distaste.

"Doesn't matter," he said, "I've work to do."

He dropped his bag and turned to a low mound of dirt beside him. He slid the shovel off his shoulder and started to dig, narrowly missing a patch of white flowers. She waited a moment for him to continue, but when it became apparent he had finished talking, she pressed on.

"My name is Sarah Williams," she said.

She paused, giving him a chance to introduce himself. He ignored her and kept shoveling dirt, tossing it over his shoulder.

"And you are," she prompted.

He snorted, "Busy. But you can call me Jared."

"Well, Jared, can you tell me how to get through Silent Hill?" she asked.

He continued to shovel, quickening his pace.

"I need to find a place called Annie's Bar," she said, "And I need to find Alchemeilla Hospital. Do you know how to get to either of them?"

He turned a bit and forced the shovel into a cluster of white flowers, uprooting and destroying them.

"Why are you killing those flowers?" she asked, "They're beautiful."

Something nagged at the back of her mind as she knelt beside the broken flowers, her fingertips caressing the soft petals. A clear liquid seeped from the gash in one of the stems. She let it drop onto her finger and slide along her skin.

The man glanced down at her, disdainfully.

"It's called White Claudia," he said, "It's a powerful hallucinogen. Townsfolk used to make a drug out of it called PVP."

She dropped the flower and hurriedly wiped the goo off her skin; it tingled just a bit, like tiny sparks dancing on her fingers.

"Can you tell me where Alchemeilla Hospital is?" she asked.

"Maybe," he said, still shoveling up the flowers.

She thought for a moment. He was infuriating, and eerily familiar, almost like Hoggle at their first meeting, outside the Labyrinth. He had been just as evasive until she "asked the right questions."

"How do I get to Alchemeilla Hospital?" she asked.

He paused, shovel mid-scoop, and turned to flash her a mischievous smile.

"You walk," he said, "It's a long way."

"How far?" she asked.

"Too far, but if you stop by the Historical Society and you're lucky, you might find a boat out back," he said, "Are you really going in there?"

She nodded, "I have to."

He sighed and shook his head.

"You won't get far," he said, "And if you do, you won't make it out again."

"What an odd thing to say," she said.

He shrugged and started shoveling again. The pile of dirt and crushed flowers was growing.

"Suit yourself," he said, "But don't say I didn't warn you. There are things in Silent Hill that can't be explained and can't be conquered."

"We'll see," she said, "But thanks for the advice. I think."

She started to walk, leaving him behind, but at two steps forward, he called out.

"Annie's Bar is on Bachman Street," he said, "And Alchemeilla is on Crichton. Watch out for dogs!"

Dogs? The memory of her own dog, a fluffy sheep dog named Merlin, flashed through her mind. He'd been her best friend while she was growing up, and she missed him dearly. Though he never would have hurt anything, his wild counterparts were another matter. Especially if they were sick or starving. She felt better about the hand gun hidden in her purse. If there were wild dogs loose, a gun would definitely help deter them from eating her. She gave her purse a pat and held it a little more tightly against her hip.

It was barely one o clock. Forty seven hours and counting.

Somehow she kept her pace down to a walk, her legs aching to run, to get out of the fog. Who knew what other creatures lurked in the shadows. The creature that attacked her in the church was small but could easily have devoured her had she been unarmed; a shiver shot up her spine, the image of her dead body all to easily conjured.

There were no easy to bend rules or even a clever villain to bargain with. Dangers untold and hardships unnumbered indeed! On her left was a flower shop, or rather, the abandoned remains of a flower shop. Dirty glass window panes lined with empty flower pots were all that remained of a once lush greenhouse. In front of the store was a table, more empty flower pots and dark, rusted shears. The weather worn corners of a paper fluttered beneath the shears.

She stopped. The paper was heavily stained but had been carefully folded in a way that was unmistakable. What luck! A map! She snatched it off the table, ignoring the shears as they fell off the table. She hadn't needed Jared's help after all. The map unfolded easily, and the inside was as clear and bright as anyone could hope for. Only two dark smudges and a hastily scrawled message marred the pages.

She spread the map across the table, brushing at the smudges. They were long and thin and squiggly. Her nail scratched against the slightly raised line, dry black flecks of stuff breaking off. It was almost like a burnt spaghetti noodle or a worm. The smudged, dry piece came loose at last, crumbling into dust.

Her hand hovered over the other half of the wormy thing. She could just make out tiny lines that bisected it, like the lines around an earthworm. She stared hard. It was an earthworm, a dried, bisected, dead earthworm. It came free, falling to the pavement in one solid piece.

The hastily scrawled message was thick, lumpy, and black.

"There shall the fire devour thee; the sword shall cut thee off; it shall eat thee up like the canker worm. Nahum 3:15."

A heavy arrow had been drawn, pointing to a small square on the map called Lakeview Hotel.

"Lovely," she murmured, "I'll just have to avoid that while I'm here."

What the hell is a canker worm anyway, she wondered. She folded the map and tucked it into her purse. The shears lay beneath the table where it had fallen. She considered leaving it; what good was it anyway? In the distance, a low howl rose over the fog. She only had 15 bullets for her gun; it would be useless if she used up the bullets while more dogs or creatures remained.

The shears fit snuggly next to the gun.

(A/N: The conversation with Jared is based entirely on the first meeting between Sarah and Hoggle. His first line of dialogue is taken directly from the movie.)