It was dark, cold, and her watch was broken. The careful tick tick of the hands had been lost in the muck along with her dignity. Dark goo and filthy water soaked her clothes, the stench almost unbearable; countless minutes had passed giving her sometime to get used to the foul odor. If getting used to something that horrible was even possible...

She stood in the center of the room, beneath the hole in the ceiling, shivering as something dropped on her head. A shriek tore from her throat as she scrambled to the side.

"Sarah?" a voice called out, "Is that you down there?"

Fumbling with the flashlight, she shone the light at the ceiling, at a pale face peering down at her. For a split second she would have sworn he was someone else, someone regal and imposing and all too arrogant, but the moment passed, and she remembered the strange gardener from the edge of town.

"Yes, it's me," she called out, "Thank god you're here."

He wrinkled his nose.

"What are you doing down there?" he asked, "It's disgusting."

He unwound a long length of rope and tossed one end down to her, holding on to the other.

"It looked like a nice place for a nap," she said, "Why else would I lower myself into a filthy pit of nastiness? I fell."

She looped the rope around her waist, ignoring the smirk that spread across his face.

"So sorry to disturb you then," he said, "If you'd like, I could come back later?"

She snorted rudely.

"No, I think I'm ready to wake up," she said, "And thanks. I thought I'd be stuck here forever."

The smirk became a grin, and he slowly eased out of sight, the rope tight as he pulled her up from the ground. It seemed she hung for an eternity before he heaved her onto solid ground, but eventually, the edges of the hole became the crumbling, white room. And finally, she could breathe without the heavy, wet stench filling her nostrils.

Jared backed away slowly, inching into the other room.

"You smell terrible," he said, "Careful where you step. The floor's not exactly safe."

She rolled her eyes, "Really? I hadn't noticed."

He scowled, turning away.

"Don't act so smart," he said, "I'm not the one covered in mud."

She followed, stepping around the cracked tile, carefully following him out into the street.

"There was a boy," she began, and her fear returned, "I followed him but he ran between the buildings. I thought I could cut through the restaurant and catch him on the other side."

Jared glanced back at her over his shoulder, his expression unreadable.

"Why?" he asked.

She stopped, confused.

"What do you mean why?" she asked.

"Well do you know him?" Jared asked.

"No," she said, "But I thought..."

"What? This is Silent Bloody Hill," he snapped, "No wonder the kid didn't stop to shake your hand. If something came crashing at you through the streets, shouting and carrying on, you'd run too. If you were smart, though to be honest, I'm beginning to wonder."
She bit back a retort.

"But he's so young," she said, "It's too dangerous. The creatures..."

Jared shook his head.

"I wouldn't worry about him," he said, "Sounds to me like he knows his way around, and besides, this place isn't the same for everyone. I've seen kids here before, and they never seem to have any trouble. The monsters don't even give 'em a second glance."

He wound the rope back into a loop, slid his bag off his shoulder, and tucked the rope inside carefully. Something about what he'd said didn't sit well. Somehow, she could accept the idea that a place could change, could adapt to whoever walked its streets. The labyrinth had been like that; it had moved and changed, and left her head spinning. But Silent Hill? It was rotten to the very center; no one could be safe here. Not even the most magical, powerful man or woman in existence.

"How is that possible?" she asked, "This place is evil. Evil preys on the innocent. I've seen it. That boy is in danger; and I need to find him before something else does."
But Jared only shrugged.

"Listen," he said, "I'll do you a big favor. I'll take you back to the edge of town. This place is too dangerous for you."

She shook her head.

"No, "she said, "I'm not giving up. What kind of person would I be if I left knowing that little boy was lost here? I'm not leaving him, and I'm not leaving until I have Laura's Birth Certificate in my hands."

"Laura?" he asked.

"She's the reason I'm here," Sarah explained, "I'm her case worker, and I've been working for her adoption for the last year now. The only thing holding everything up is a missing birth certificate."

"Laura," he repeated.

"Her mother owned a small bar in town," Sarah added, "Called Annie's Bar."

He opened his mouth as though he meant to say more, but abruptly stopped, a smile spreading across his face.

"Alright," he said, "I'll help you find him. Or I'll take you as far as I can anyway, but if you get yourself killed, that's all on you. I only ask one thing."

She nodded.

"That's fair enough," she said, and for the second time the feeling of deja vu hit her.

She could almost see Hoggle limping along in front of her, could almost hear his voice.'I don't promise nothing, but I'll take you as far as I can. Then you're on your own, right?' She'd given him a cheap, plastic bracelet to seal the deal, and yet, for some reason, she doubted it would be that easy this time.

"What do you want?" she asked.

The smile was gone as he stared her down; goosebumps popped up on her arms, the hair prickling on the back of her neck.

"I'll let you know," he said.

He started off down the street before she could protest.