Chapter 9 – The Final Sermon
A few stray candles lit the dim room, their weak flames dancing long shadows along the stone walls of the Balkan Church. The scent of incense was heavy in the air. Dahlia stood alone at the altar in the middle of the gathering. She was a commanding and otherworldly presence. Her sermon was laced with conviction and faith.
"The time is upon us," she said, extending her arms to the ceiling. "Paradise is almost within our grasp."
The gathered followers stirred in front of her, an exhalation of terror and jubilation. They were hungry for deliverance from the dark world they had been promised. Some bowed their heads in prayer, others looked at one another.
"But…" Dahlia continued, and in an instant, the crowd suddenly turned quiet. No other sounds to be heard by the soft inhale and exhale of the crowded members of the Order. "Not all of you will be there to witness the birth of God. Many of you, most of you, will be sent deep below, to wait out the final hours in the bunkers of the Old World Wars."
She waved her hand towards the rear of the room where a set of heavy steel doors led to the old Cold War bunkers beneath the town. Long forgotten and abandoned by the town, but still functional for its purpose. "You will be safe there to wait out the coming storm that will overtake Silent Hill, until paradise dawns."
Some of the followers looked towards the steel door, their looks a mixture of relief and disappointment. They had waited so long and yet they would have to be shut away, hidden from this divine moment.
They remained steadfast in their faith. The most faithful of Dahlia's adherents stood ready to see her through the ritual. They listened to the gravity of the burdens she would soon place upon them.
"You," she continued, "Will help me complete what we started. You will help me raise our God."
A whisper, spoken from the back of the room, had stirred the attention of one older man standing near the wall. A girl, Claudia, young and curious, tugged on her father's sleeve, her wide eyes filled with confusion. "Why can't we see the birth of God, Father?" she whispered.
Leonard, her father, made an expression that was unreadable as he glanced down at her.
He leaned down, to whisper, keeping his voice firm yet quiet, "This is not for us to witness, Claudia. We have our role to play. Be silent and listen to Dahlia."
Claudia bit her lip. She wanted to see that divine moment when God would be birthed, that culmination of everything they were working for, everything Dahlia had promised. But she trusted her father and fell silent, fixing her gaze on Dahlia.
"The town above shall change. It will twist and turn while the boundaries between our world and the next collapse. Those of you who are remaining upstairs will face the storm alongside me. You'll face the collapse and the fire. But you will be the first to witness the coming of our God."
A chill smile formed on Dahlia's face as she continued delivering his sermon. "And when that is done, when the new world dawns, then we shall be rewarded with everlasting paradise. The old world will no longer exist."
The room was silent now, her words pressing down on them all. Those who would head down into the bunkers exchanged uneasy glances, while the selected few regarded Dahlia with a mix of dread and determination.
"Prepare yourselves," Dahlia said at last, her voice commanding. "The ritual begins tonight."
The tension in the room grew thick and heavy, like the fog that choked the street. Dahlia stood silently for a moment, surveying the faces of her followers. They had given something to the cause, faith, family, and in some cases their very minds. Now, they stood on the edge of a new reality.
In silence, Leonard's hand fell onto Claudia's shoulder, a press for attention to the issue at hand. But she was still young, and her mind was racing with questions. She grew up on the sermons, grew up with the doctrine, the holy texts, but for the first time in her life, she felt what had been going on. Her father always seemed to her such a towering figure of conviction. But now, his silence and blind obedience confuse her more than anything else.
Dahlia turned to the group of followers who would be staying behind in the bunkers. "You will know when it is over," she said softly. "The earth will shudder, and you will hear the voice of our God echo. Only then may you emerge to witness the dawn of our new world."
Some nodded, others bowed their heads to murmur fervent prayers. Their fear and anticipation hung thick in the air.
She took another step forward as her eyes landed on each chosen one, the select few who would stay with her and complete the ritual. The Strongest, the most devout. Amongst them, were the men and women who had sacrificed more than their fellow believers, some who stared into the darkness of Silent Hill itself and never once flinched.
You," Dahlia spoke, her voice like ice, "are the hands of our god. You shall see what none others shall, and you shall be purified within the fire of creation."
The words were almost hypnotic, and the chosen few looked at her with unshaken loyalty in their eyes. They knew full well of the dangerous path that lay ahead, but their loyalty to Dahlia, and to the God they had been promised, was greater than fear.
Without warning, Dahlia's eyes fixated on Leonard and his daughter standing beside him. She paused, her gaze fixed on the young Claudia. There was something in that gaze, a recognition in the child, one with potential, an understanding of the child's future in their dark faith.
"You will play your part when the time comes," Dahlia said, carrying a prophecy. "But for now, you must learn to wait. Patience is the greatest virtue."
Claudia looked up at her father in awe. Dahlia, their Holy Priestess of the Order, had just spoken directly to her, a thing that had never happened before. The words now made her conflicted in ways she couldn't imagine, desperate to know more yet afraid of what that could mean for her.
Leonard only nodded at Dahlia's words, his hand squeezing Claudia's shoulder just a little tighter. He knew that Dahlia saw something in his daughter, something that would define her future. He was loathed to acknowledge it. Not yet.
Dahlia turned from them, raising her arms once more to indicate the end of the sermon. "Tonight, you shall descend," she ordered. "And when you return, you will be reborn, cleansed by the will of God."
The followers began to shift slowly from the pews, some headed towards the door of the bunker, others waiting for further instruction from the matriarch. A low hum of conversation worked its way through them, quiet voices with uncertainty, hope, and dread. The ritual was no longer some far-off promise. It had arrived, and it was beyond the point of return.
Claudia hesitated, questions rolled inside her as she continued to stare at the altar. While she could feel the weight of her father's hand on her shoulder, no longer could she shake the feeling that something far greater was happening, something that she wasn't yet privy to.
And though she didn't realize it then, this was the beginning of her odyssey. What she would later look back upon as the spark that ignited her faith, her obsession with the divine. But that will be a story for a different time.
As the church emptied, the flickering candles threw twisted shadows around the stone walls. The cold steel door that offered entry to the bunkers growled as it pulled open, ushering in those who were not chosen to descend and wait for paradise.
Dahlia watched them go as if already witnessing the birth of the new world in her mind.
"Prepare yourselves," she said once more to no one in particular. "The time is near.
The bunker door closed behind the last of the followers. Afterward, the silence that followed was thick, except for the soft, crackling sounds of the lit candles on the altar. Silent Hill lay beyond the Church's walls, its streets about to turn into a series of events so diligently prepared by Dahlia.
Dahlia remained at the altar, still with her eyes closed as if in communion with something beyond this living world. Her lips moved quietly, in private prayer or calling forth the forces she still fully believed would soon be upon them all.
Claudia stood next to Leonard. Her eyes were on her father, but her mind still hung onto Dahlia's words. Why couldn't they see the birth of their God? Why were they made to wait while others would stand at the very heart of it? It wasn't doubt that plagued her mind, but instead, a deep spiritual longing to see, to understand, to be part of the divine event that was to change everything.
Leonard spoke to her as if he heard the voice inside her head. "Patience, Claudia. The birth of God isn't for the faint of heart. You will see your moment. But first, we must learn to wait."
Claudia did not quite get it. She had learned the Order's lessons, learned every verse and text that Dahlia had spoken of. But the meaning of the final revelation remained just beyond her grasp. She turned her head, a last look at the altar, and then followed Leonard out of the sanctuary and into the bunker.
Only the select few that Dahlia chose remained behind. They uttering not a word, like statues. They knew soon they would have to fight the darkness that would wrap Silent Hill. The fog pressed thick against the old church. Outside, the streets of Silent Hill were empty. Abandoned, it was a town waiting for something terrible, something divine.
Dahlia shifted closer to the middle of the altar, falling before it on her knees. The symbols carved into the stone beneath her knees glowed faintly in the light, ancient runes that bound the physical to the spiritual. She reached into the folds of her robe, pulling out an ornate, ceremonial dagger. The blade is carved with symbols. The chosen few shifted as she rose, eyes locked on the ritual about to begin.
"When this ritual begins, the world will shake," she said. "Silent Hill shall be vessel and birthplace both to our God. Only the prepared may witness it, only those strong enough to stand the fires of creation."
She was met with a sea of steady faces in return, the Chosen Ones closed around her in a circle. Chosen for this very moment, their allegiance to Dahlia and her dream was not to be swayed. One perhaps stood forward from among them, a man with a ram skull mask grasped an ancient book bound in dark leather between his hands. Opening it, the brittle pages crumbled slightly at the edges, he began to chant.
Their incantations filled the air, and the room seemed to darken. Dahlia approached the altar with the dagger in hand. It was as if the air thickened and weighed down with something else there. The fog outside began to thicken, curling around the old church like a living thing. Silent Hill had always been an eerie place, never quite right or normal, and it was about to be forever different.
Claudia and Leonard walked down the steps to the bunker. Leonard walked purposely, unhindered by the lack of noise around them. Claudia, while taught by repetition to be used to the creepy atmosphere of the town on most days, felt her heart pounding. The air smelled different tonight, thick with something ancient and heavy.
The ritual had started.
As they reached their destination, a large reinforced concrete area filled with bunk beds, Claudia's mind returned to Dahlia's words. "You will play your part when the time comes." What could she have meant? What role could she, a young girl still learning the ways of their faith, possibly play in this?
Leonard gestured for her to enter and tossed a bag onto the top of a bunk. "We wait here," he said calmly, almost indifferent as if what was happening in the town was simply the fulfillment of some long-awaited promise. "When this is over, when the birth is complete, we shall emerge to a new world."
Claudia put her belongings on the bottom bunk and sat on it. She was full of questions as she lay down on the bed, thinking. She couldn't help but get a feeling that everything she had ever known, everything she had ever believed in, was about to be tested. The night would never end. Her father had spoken little.
Claudia's mind wasn't on her father, the Order, or the ritual at hand. Her thoughts drifted to Alessa, her friend. She was a fragile girl she had known since their youngest days. Alessa had always been different, withdrawn, haunted by something, invisible but present. And now, Claudia couldn't help but wonder, what had happened to her.
Alessa had vanished at some point, taken by Dahlia for reasons only whispered about amongst followers. Claudia had tried to push the thoughts away, telling herself that whatever was happening to Alessa was part of the plan. Dahlia's plan. God's plan. But still, fear was gnawing at the edges of her mind. She had taken care of Alessa, even noticing the sadness in her eyes, wanting to soothe it. But now… she was gone, shut away somewhere, carrying a burden no child should ever have to bear.
Leonard did nothing but just glance at his troubled daughter for a while. He believed in silence, in waiting, in letting faith speak for itself. But Claudia, young as she was, couldn't hold her tongue any longer.
"Father," she whispered, voice trembling nervously, "do you… do you think… do you think Alessa will be alright?"
Leonard looked at her, brow furrowing slightly. He had never been one for words of comfort and was no different now. "Alessa serves her greater purpose," he replied, tone as cold as stone. "She is the vessel through which God will be born. Her suffering is necessary."
Claudia sighed at this. She had heard those words many times before, Alessa's suffering was necessary. But hearing them now, with the ritual underway, it felt different. She remembered the look on Alessa's face, her eyes always mixed with fear and sadness how she had always tried to mask her pain. Claudia wanted to help her. But now, Alessa was beyond her grasp, and the role she played in Dahlia's grand design, Claudia didn't know what to do.
"But… does she know?" Claudia pressed on. "Does Alessa know what she's doing? That she's the one to bring God into this world?"
Leonard's stare ironed onto Claudia, and with each word, his tone became colder, more detached. "It is not for us to question God's will, Claudia. Alessa holds the key to salvation, to paradise. What matters now is the ritual's success. Alessa is no longer just a girl; she is the means whereby we earn our salvation."
Claudia's eyes dropped to the floor, her fingers tightening into fists in her lap. She wanted to believe him, wanted to believe in the teachings, in Dahlia, in the birth of God that would bring an end to all suffering. But in her heart, concern for Alessa gnawed at her still.
"At least. God will be born," Claudia reassured herself. "At least it will be worth all this in the end. All that suffering, all that sacrifice, paradise shall come, and Alessa's agony will not have happened for nothing."
But even as she tried to convince herself, a deep sadness settled over her. All of her life, she had been told that the birth of God would end all suffering, and that paradise would erase the pain of this world. But would it? Would it be worth what Alessa had endured? Her suffering and pain? The thought made her heart ache for her friend.
The room seemed to grow colder as the weight in the air was filled with a ritual unfolding elsewhere in Silent Hill. Claudia found her mind drifting back to Dahlia, and to the Church where the ritual was performed. The dimensional barriers would break soon, and the nightmares that have always hidden themselves beneath the surface of Silent Hill would finally emerge.
"Claudia," It was Leonard's voice this time. ", do not let sentiment cloud your purpose. Alessa is part of God's will, just as we all are. When the time comes, you shall understand."
It was Leonard's voice again this time softer, almost a murmur. "Claudia, do not let sentiment cloud your purpose. Alessa is part of God's will, just as we all are. When the time comes, you shall understand."
Claudia nodded, but it was poor comfort. She turned back on the, staring into the concrete wall, knowing that Alessa was suffering s out there. But she clung to that promise of salvation. If the birth of God was the only thing that made sense of all this pain, then at least Alessa's torment wouldn't be for nothing. At least paradise would come.
Above them, back in the church, Dahlia held the dagger high above her head. The chanting from the followers grew louder and louder until there was but one voice, a voice of terror within that space.
"This town shall be the cradle for our god," Dahlia toned. "Silent Hill shall be the vessel for his return."
In one swift movement, the dagger fell and plunged into the altar, sending a shockwave through the church. The room shook and, for one moment, it seemed as though the ground would tear itself apart.
Silent Hill was no longer just a town. It was becoming something far darker.