I apologize in advance. This chapter had a tremendous amount of dialogue, and I am terrible at writing dialogue as well as action/dialogue occurring at the same time. I've been writing this in spurts when I have free time from work. I believe this is a good start at revealing the character/personality of the protagonist. My plan is to reveal more and more about his mannerisms and character as the next few chapters progress. Please enjoy.

"Say Aaaahhhhh…"

"AAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHH…."

Dr. William Harker pressed the tongue depressor down gently as he peered down into little Emma's throat. He cocked his head side to side trying to find the best vantage point for inspection. After letting her close her mouth, he gently put his hand to Emma's forehead. It was abnormally warm, and he recognized the presence of fever instantly.

"Okay, Emma. That's good. Thank you."

Will threw the used tongue depressor into the trash can and turned to Emma's mother. Mrs. Corwin had come in without an appointment saying her 5-year-old daughter had come down with a sore throat and been coughing the entire night. Thankfully, Dr. Harker had been able to squeeze her in right away between patients. He gave Mrs. Corwin a small, comforting smile before speaking again.

"Sore throat. Fever. Tonsils are red and swollen. It's strep throat, Mrs. Corwin. Nothing to be too concerned about."

She breathed a quick sigh of relief as Will turned back to Emma. He patted her back consolingly and gave a warm smile while speaking to Mrs. Corwin behind him who was still watching her daughter with a cautious gaze.

"I'll write a prescription for some antibiotics. Have Emma take those twice a day. Plenty of fluids…and plenty of rest for the next couple of days, and she'll be fine to go back to daycare."

Will bent down on one knee so that he could see Emma eye-to eye.

"And you young lady…at your next checkup, I expect to see you happy and healthy with some skinned knees at most. Deal?"

Even though she wasn't feeling well, Doctor Harker's words made Emma feel a bit better. She looked up smiled lightly while nodding her head. Will smiled comfortingly back and gave her a few affectionate pats on the head. Emma jumped down from the examination table and walked quickly back to her mother's side.

"Becca at the front desk will check you out and schedule you for a follow-up appointment. Take care."

Will waved to Emma and Mrs. Corwin as they left the room and then took a few minutes to organize and straighten up before his next patient. He was somewhat eager to see the next one. After all, it was a friend that he didn't get to see often.

Becca knocked on the office door and poked her head in before speaking softly.

"Dr. Harker…Mr. Gucci is here for his checkup."

"Thank you, Becca. You can send him in."

Inspector Thomas Gucci walked in the door and sat down on the examination chair. He and Will had been friends ever since he had become the town doctor years earlier after finishing medical school. There was about a ten or twelve year difference in their ages…not that it really mattered. Though they didn't socialize much outside of his regular checkups, Tom considered Will a friend that he could trust.

As always, Gucci wore a suit, leather gloves, and his trademark film noir coat that looked straight out of an old, black-and-white detective movie...something that you could see Dick Tracy wearing. Gucci stopped in front of Dr. Harker and offered his hand.

"Hey Will. It's been a while."

Will chucked and shook Tom's hand firmly before replying.

"Tom. You know the drill. Coat off, roll up the sleeves, and take the gloves off too."

Tom walked over to the examination chair and took off his coat and gloves. His dedication to his work didn't leave much time for friends or family, so Dr. Harker was one of the few friends he had. Plus, Tom had a tendency to come off as slightly "grating" to other people. As he sat down he spoke again.

"Someone looking from the outside might think we'd done this before, Will."

Will draped a stethoscope across his neck as he sat down on a rolling stool right across from Gucci. He smiled to himself before replying.

"Well…I know you never take those gloves off unless I tell you. Now, stop stalling and show me your hands."

Tom slowly pulled off his leather gloves and held his hands palms-up on his knees. Two large, puckered scars, one in the center of each palm, stood out distinctly from the rest of the otherwise healthy skin. The thick, white scars circled outward from the center of the palm creating twin spider webs of skin on each hand.

Will ran an experienced eye over the scars looking for any changes or abnormalities while gently feeling and prodding them with his fingers.

"I keep telling you this isn't my area of expertise. You know I'm a family physician, right? You need to see a dermatologist and an orthopedist. Have you even been massaging the scars like I keep telling you? You have to keep it up every day if you want to break up the scar tissue and keep it loose."

Tom sheepishly looked at his hands and refused to raise his head in order to avoid Will's stern, questioning gaze.

"You know I don't have time for any of that, Will."

Will sighed, clearly annoyed and shook his head slowly.

"Mhm. If you don't keep on top of it, those scars could cause contracture. You'll wish you'd listened to me when you can't open up your hands all the way. You can put your gloves back on."

As Gucci, slipped his hands back into his gloves, Will put the stethoscope in his ears and began measuring Tom's heart rate, blood pressure, and other vital signs. Just like all of their past checkups together, small talk naturally came up between the tests along with the usual sarcasm and self-deprecating jokes.

"Don't suppose you finally found yourself a nice girl…have you, Will?"

"You're the town detective. You already know I haven't…too busy with work like you. Don't suppose you have, Tom?"

"You know me better than that. I guess we're both just destined for a long life of bachelorhood. Only marriages we'll ever have will be to our jobs, right?"

Dr. Harker looked up from his examination and smirked with small hints of sadness barely visible at the corners of his mouth.

"Yeah…something like that."

As he strapped a blood pressure cuff to Gucci's upper arm, Will's mind began to wonder. He hadn't been sleeping well the last few nights. He'd been having nightmares, and yet, he was unable to remember anything by the time the alarm clock woke him up the following morning. Bothered by the prolonged silence, Will quickly brought up a question that he had been wanting to ask for a long time.

"Tom…we've known each other for years now…and I can't believe that I never asked you this before….but…you're a Brahms native, right? I mean…you've always lived here?"

Gucci tensed at the question, and a sinking feeling began to form in the pit of his stomach. He wasn't sure if he should tell the truth or not. The past was always a touchy subject with him. He didn't like bringing it up, but Will was one of the few friends that he had. Still, it was best to tread lightly.

"Actually…no. I've lived in Brahms for most of my life…but I was actually born and raised up in Silent Hill."

Will froze for a second before taking the cuff off Tom's arm and draping his stethoscope back across the back of his neck. With a look of surprise on his face, he leaned back on his stool and crossed his arms in front of his chest.

"Silent Hill? On the other side of Toluca Lake? That Silent Hill? You lived there too?"

Tom's stomach felt like it had dropped clear down to his feet, and he looked up with tension written all over his face.

"Too? You're from Silent Hill, Will?"

Will could clearly see from Gucci's face that he was extremely distressed by this revelation. Silent Hill was something of a taboo subject around Brahms. Most people in the town avoided talking about it altogether, almost like just saying the words would bring disaster and death crashing down on anyone within earshot.

"Easy, Tom. I know Silent Hill is the proverbial ghost story around here. If it makes you feel any better, I'm not actually from Silent Hill. I said I 'lived there too', but I really only lived there for about a year or so…maybe a little bit longer. I was about eight or nine years old when my folks and me lived there. Then, one day out of the blue, my parents suddenly moved us to Brahms. Never really gave me a reason now that I think back on it."

A bit of the tension left Gucci's face, but he wasn't able to relax yet. He still had a terrible sense of foreboding.

"You remember when you lived there, Will? I mean…the year?"

Will closed his eyes and scoured his memory. He hadn't thought about Silent Hill in a very long time. It was practically a lifetime ago.

"I think it would have been '73 or '74…somewhere around there. I know Dad worked in the coal mines. I think that's what actually brought us to Silent Hill in the first place. I know we lived in Kentucky before we came to West Virginia."

"You remember the big fire…the one that shuttered the town…were you there when it happened?"

"No…but I definitely remember hearing about it. We were just getting settled into our new house…unpacking and all that stuff. Dad heard the news on the radio and thought that we dodged a major bullet. I think they said we just missed it by a week or two. I know if we'd still been there my Dad would have been killed."

Tom stood up from the examination chair, began to roll his sleeve back down, and started putting his coat back on.

"I remember it, Will. I wish I didn't. It was complete chaos…a disaster. Police and firefighters tried to evacuate the town as fast as they could. So many people were killed or just vanished. A lot of folks from Silent Hill made their way to Brahms after the fire…the lucky ones anyway…the ones that didn't die or disappear. A lot of people around here lost friends, family, homes, businesses, and more in that hellfire. That's why most don't bring up Silent Hill around here, Will. All that's left of that town is pain and tragedy. Best to leave all that in the past…where it belongs."

Will stood up from his stool with a pained look on his face. He faced Tom and scratched the back of his head nervously before trying to smooth things over, but he couldn't hide the guilt in his voice.

"I'm sorry Tom. I didn't know…I didn't mean to be insensitive…did you lose anybody? In the fire?"

Gucci nodded and looked away for a moment before answering.

"My father. He owned a barbershop in town…Gucci's on Main Street…don't know if you'd remember it. Not just him though…a lot of good people died or went missing…"

In a futile attempt to distance himself from the tense situation, Will went over to the examination room's countertop and began writing measurements down just as quickly as he could. He felt like an idiot. He hadn't meant to drudge up bad memories for Tom, and yet that was exactly what he'd managed to do. Once he finished writing, he turned back to face Gucci and began ushering him slowly to the door.

"Well, Tom…your heart rate, blood pressure, weight…everything's normal and about the same as they were as six months ago. Just remember what I said about the hands and try to massage them at nighttime before you go to sleep…and for God's sake, please make an appointment with someone that knows more about it than I do."

Gucci opened the door to the exam room and began to leave while nodding his head along with Will's advice. However, it was clear the advice was going in one ear and out the other. Before he could walk away, he was stopped by a gentle hand on his soldier. He turned and saw a remorseful look plastered all over Will's face.

"Tom…I'm so sorry for dragging up all those painful memories. I really didn't mean to do that. We've known each other for years…but I just feel like we don't know much about each other at all…and I was just trying to bridge the gap a little bit."

Gucci smiled reassuringly at Will to put him at ease.

"I know, Will. We might not know a lot about each other, but I know you well enough to know you're a good man. Just keep in mind…it's not that Silent Hill is taboo…it's just that it's a source of agony for a lot of people around here."

Will nodded and escorted Tom out to the front desk. He turned to Becca at the front desk. He spoke while looking her way but directed his words over his shoulder at Tom.

"I want to see you back in six months. Take care of yourself, Tom."

The two men exchanged a strong handshake one last time before Will headed back to his office to prepare for his next patient.

Several hours later, Will slowly walked out the front doors of his clinic after bidding a "goodnight" and "see you in the morning" to Becca and the other nurses. He cut through the parking lot and veered west. The sun was already setting and the autumn air was chilly as he began his short walk home. The sun shone in his eyes, and he was forced to hold one hand to the sky in order to block out the glare. He only lived six blocks away from the clinic, and most days, he enjoyed the brief stroll through town. He liked to take in the familiar sights of the town and the people of Brahms. They always made him feel better and put him at ease. However, today, his focus was firmly set on the conversation he'd had with Tom in the examination room.

He hadn't thought of Silent Hill in a very long time, not seriously at least. It wasn't a source of anxiety for him…not like with Tom and most of the other residents of Brahms…maybe it was because he hadn't lived there for long or because he had been too young...but he didn't remember much of his time there. Of course he had some memories of Silent Hill. He remembered walking to the school and peering into the windows of some of the stores from Main Street. He remembered the house they'd lived in and his room. The strange thing was that all of his memories were fuzzy and unclear like a scene obscured by fog or mist.

Now that his memories of Silent Hill were on his mind, he wanted to bring them to the forefront of his conscious thoughts. He tried to grasp at the memories that he could recall and will them into a more unwavering form, but they always slipped away and became amorphous again. It was frustrating. To be fair, most people's childhood memories are like that…more images, feelings, and flashes than tangible scenes of thought. At the same time, Will thought that it was a bit strange that there was not a single clear memory from his childhood experiences in Silent Hill. Not one…almost as if everything from then had been partially erased…all the important bits expunged with only trivial, day-to-day details left over.

Before he could fully sort through all of his ruminations, Will found himself face-to-face with his front door. He pulled his keys out and quickly unlocked the door before going inside. He hung up his jacket on the coat rack by the door and threw his keys into the bowl where he always kept them when he was home. Without even bothering to turn on the lights, he slowly walked through the pseudo-darkness to the living room and plopped down in his recliner. He was physically worn out from the day's events, but it was the mental exhaustion from trying to sort out his memories and his bizarre conversation with Tom that made him pass out as soon as he made contact with the chair.

The walls of the house were bare and most of the surfaces were empty. Will didn't bother with interior decorating and lining his walls with knick-knacks. There were no tchotchkes or trinkets lining his bookshelves and mantle. Apart from the few family photos he had, his house was minimalist by definition. He didn't have time for meaningless things like that. All his time was spent at the clinic or gym or church. Even the gym and church didn't get much of his time anymore. Taking care of kids and families…that was where 99.99% of his time and energy went. Why exactly was he so dedicated? Why so obsessed with his work? Even Will didn't know the answer to that question, though it was one he'd asked himself numerous times.

Out of the growing shadows near the fireplace, a small, dark figure emerged and walked silently with purpose over to the sleeping figure of Will Harker. Dark Alessa made no noise as she walked across the hardwood floor and area rug. As she reached the chair where he lay unconscious, she tilted her head side to side appraising the sleeping figure. She leaned in close…close enough to smell his breath as he breathed steadily in and out. She examined every detail of his face as if trying to glean something more…something deeper that hid just beneath the surface.

"So…you are the hero she has chosen…the paragon that the dreamer wishes to dream of…truly, you do seem kind, devoted, and steadfast…but is that who you really are? Or simply a mask that you wear? We shall see if your heart is true. Please do not disappoint us. We expect so much from you. Now we must go. Come with us…back to Silent Hill."

Dark Alessa reached out her hand and touched Will's cheek gently so as not to wake him. A moment later, she was gone and only an imprint in the cushions remained in the chair where Will had been sleeping.