Chapter 18 – The Interrogation

James Sunderland slowly blinked his eyes open. His head was pounding as if a hammer was making its way through his skull. It felt as if the world itself was spinning all around him. His mouth was dry, and as he shifted in his seat, he felt the sharp, constricting pull of ropes biting into his wrists and ankles. He was bound to a chair, his hands cuffed tightly behind his back. Panic started to rise, but he forced it back down, trying to stay calm.

He struggled hard against the restraints, pulling at the ropes with all his might, but they didn't give. The thick cords had been tied with deliberate care, strong, tight, and relentless. His breathing quickened as he took in his situation. He was in a dimly lit room, the air thick with the scent of damp concrete and something metallic, like rust or blood.

He tried to remember how he got here. He and Deputy Wheeler had been ambushed—the cult. The Order of Shepherd's Glen had captured them and separated them. He cursed under his breath. Wheeler was God knows where, and James was bound like an animal waiting for slaughter.

As he wrestled with his restraints, he heard the creak of a door opening behind him. Footsteps echoed through the room, the slow, deliberate clicks that sent shivers down his spine. High heels. The sound was unmistakable. James tensed, his muscles instinctively bracing for what was to come.

The figure stepped into his field of view, standing in front of him. A tall, imposing figure cloaked in the dark robes of the cult, their face obscured by a ram skull mask. But it wasn't the mask that unnerved James, it was the poise, the cold confidence in the way they moved. He didn't need to see the face to know who it was. The cult had him.

The figure reached up, removing the mask in a slow, deliberate motion, revealing the face of Judge Margaret Holloway. Her expression was calm, almost too calm like a predator sizing up its prey before the kill. Her eyes flickered with a mix of curiosity and disdain. She held something in her hand, his wallet. She casually flipped it open, inspecting his ID like it was some trivial document.

"James Sunderland," she said, her voice dripping with a mocking tone. "Ashfield, Maine. Interesting place to call home."

James met her gaze, his eyes filled with barely contained rage. "What do you want?" His voice was low, his anger boiling beneath the surface.

Holloway raised an eyebrow, almost amused by his question. "What do I want? That's the question, isn't it? I've been trying to figure out why you, an outsider, someone from Ashfield of all places, have inserted yourself into the affairs of Shepherd's Glen. Deputy Wheeler and Alex Shepherd? That, I understand. They've been thorns in our side for a while now. But you? You're different, Mr. Sunderland. You're an anomaly."

James said nothing, his glare never wavering from his face.

Holloway took a step closer, eyeing him as if she were putting pieces of a puzzle together in her mind. She was methodical, her movements slow and deliberate as she went through his wallet, inspecting the contents and tossing them with a dispassionate curiosity. "And yet… there's something familiar about all this. Something that doesn't quite fit."

She tilted her head, eyes narrowing as she considered him. "James Sunderland... Ashfield... Sunderland… Shepherd… What is it about you that connects you to this?" Her gaze fell on a particular item in his wallet, a photograph, worn at the edges. She pulled it out, holding it up to the faint light. It was an old picture of Mary Shepherd.

For a moment, there was silence between the two of them, and then, like a flash, it all seemed to click in Holloway's mind.

"Mary Shepherd," Holloway said, her voice cold as she studied the photo. "Of course. That's why you're here."

James's body tensed, his jaw tightening as Holloway connected the dots. Her expression changed, a cruel smile tugging at the corners of her lips. "You're the husband. The brother-in-law of Adam Shepherd. Aren't you?"

James didn't respond, but the look on his face confirmed everything. Holloway let out a small, condescending laugh as she placed the photograph back in his wallet.

"So, you're here for revenge, then?" she asked, pacing slowly around him. "You found out, didn't you? That it wasn't an illness?"

Judge Holloway circled James like a predator sizing up its prey. Her heels clicked in a slow, deliberate rhythm as she made her way around him, the air in the room growing colder with each passing second. James could feel his heartbeat rising, the tightness in his chest becoming unbearable as his muscles tensed against the ropes.

She stopped behind him, leaning down just enough to whisper in his ear. "You came all this way to Shepherd's Glen, thinking you could get some justice for your precious Mary? You wanted revenge for her suffering, didn't you?" Her tone was dripping with sarcasm, with an almost playful cruelty in her voice. "You think you can hurt us after everything you've done?"

James clenched his fists, feeling the handcuffs dig deeper into his skin. He bit down hard, resisting the urge to lash out, knowing it would do no good for him at this moment.

Holloway stepped back, crossing her arms and sighing dramatically. "But you really should've thought this through, James. Your brother-in-law, Adam, has been a thorn in our side for years. And now, you and your little insurrection… Do you even understand what you've done?"

She reached into her robe, pulling out a small file with the emblem of the Order stamped on it. "Six of my brothers, six, are dead because of that little stunt you pulled at the Shepherd home. Do you know what that means for our cause?"

James kept his gaze forward, refusing to look at her. Holloway, frustrated by his silence, slammed the file onto the table next to him, the papers spilling out in a mess. "Do you not care, Sunderland? Six of my loyal men who were just doing their duty are dead because of you and your brother-in-law's rebellion. And for what? For some pathetic revenge mission?"

James gritted his teeth, his voice low and barely controlled. "Those men were coming after my family. After everything your cult has done… what did you expect?"

Holloway chuckled softly, shaking her head as if she found his response amusing. "You think you're the victim here, don't you? The poor, grieving widower trying to avenge his dead wife." She leaned in again, keeping her face inches from his. "Well, let me let you in on a little secret, James. None of this would have happened if you had just accepted her death. But no, you had to go digging, didn't you?"

James shot her a defiant glare, his eyes burning with barely contained rage. "You cursed her. You cursed Mary because of Adam. This is your fault!"

Holloway's smile widened, her mocking laughter filling the room. "Oh, James… poor, poor James." She straightened up, her hands clasped behind her back as she began pacing again. "Mary was never our real target. She was collateral damage in the Shepherds' refusal to follow the ancient traditions. If Adam had done his part, none of this would have been necessary. But now… we've lost six of our own because of your involvement."

She stopped in front of him again, her expression growing darker. "And now, James, you owe us a debt. A blood debt." She knelt, looking him directly in the eye, her face twisted with cold fury. "For each of my fallen brothers, there must be a reckoning."

James's heart pounded in his chest, his body shaking with anger and helplessness. "Your brothers chose their fate. You can't blame me for defending my family."

Holloway sneered at him. "Oh, but I can. You see, James, you're not just some innocent bystander in all this. You've committed crimes against the Order, and I have more than enough influence to ensure that you pay for them."

Holloway stopped in front of him again, looking down at him with another smug grin. "Oh, I think you'll do much more than pay for all of this. You've already committed crimes against the Order, after all. Your little stunts at the Shepherd home, do you think that went unnoticed?" She shook her head slowly, almost pitying him. "James, I have connections, powerful connections. The courts, the law… they're all just tools, and I know how to use every single one of them. A background check is hardly difficult for someone like me. I have a million and one ways to destroy an enemy, even without the Order."

James felt a cold knot form in his stomach. His expression hardened, but he didn't answer.

"I'm curious," she said, her tone deceptively casual, but there was an edge beneath it that made James's skin crawl. "Did you tell anyone where you were going? You know, family, coworkers?"

Holloway took a few steps toward him, her voice dropping lower, almost intimate, but it only made her words more menacing. "You see, loose ends are problematic for someone like me. I like to keep things clean, tied up in a neat little bow. And if you've left loose ends... well, we might need to make sure they don't come looking for you."

James tensed, his eyes burning with rage. "You stay away from them."

Holloway's smile widened, almost predatory now. "Oh, I'm sure I will. But you know how the Order operates. We can't leave any threats lingering, any potential interference. And if they come sniffing around Shepherd's Glen... I wouldn't want things to get messy, would you?"

James's heart pounded in his chest, his mind racing. He'd been careful, he hadn't told his father anything about where he was headed. And his adoptive daughter, Laura, was safe back in Massachusetts. But the thought of Holloway, or worse, the cult, going after his family made his blood boil.

"I didn't tell anyone," James muttered through his gritted teeth, but Holloway's gaze sharpened, sensing the tension in his words.

"Really? No one?" she prodded, leaning in closer. "Are you sure? You expect me to believe you just disappeared without a trace?"

James's jaw clenched, his mind flashing back to Laura, to his father. He needed to protect them, and the thought of Holloway or her cult getting anywhere near them filled him with a powerful sense of dread. He was silent for a moment too long, and Holloway noticed.

She straightened, her eyes narrowing as her smile faded into something more sinister. "If they come looking, Sunderland, we'll know. And I won't hesitate to clean up your mess."

James glared at her, his voice thick with anger. "You leave them out of this. They've got nothing to do with you or your Order."

"Oh, but they do now," Holloway replied, her voice dripping with smug satisfaction. "You made sure of that the moment you got involved with Adam's little rebellion. The moment you stepped into our territory. Now every connection you have is a potential loose end. And believe me, we don't leave loose ends."

James struggled against his bindings, his fury barely contained. "You won't touch them," he growled.

Holloway gave him a condescending look, her voice taking on a mocking tone. "You don't have the power to make demands, Sunderland. Not anymore." She let the implication hang in the air.

Judge Holloway's demeanor shifted once more, becoming colder, more clinical. She moved back toward James, her steps deliberate, like a predator closing in on prey. The smile she wore now resembled something closer to a practiced courtroom smirk than a real expression of emotion. She was in her element.

"You know, Sunderland," she began, pacing in front of him with slow, deliberate strides. "This feels familiar, doesn't it? I've spent enough time cross-examining liars and criminals in my time as a prosecutor to know when someone's hiding something." She stopped and fixed him with a sharp gaze, her head tilted slightly. "You strike me as a man who knows how to cover his tracks. But no one's perfect."

James said nothing. Holloway chuckled softly, her gaze drifting to his clenched fists.

"Let's play this out like a trial, shall we?" she said, taking a seat across from him, keeping her posture relaxed. "I ask the questions, and you... well, you'll tell me what I need to know. You see, the truth has a funny way of surfacing, no matter how hard you try to suppress it."

She leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees, her voice low but charged. "Let's start with something simple. You claim you didn't tell anyone where you were going. But it seems... very unlikely, doesn't it? You're not some ghost wandering in the dark, Sunderland. You've got people. People who care about you."

James's eyes flicked toward her, his mind racing, trying to predict where she was going with this.

Holloway smiled again, a cold, calculating thing. "So let's start with our first 'witness,' shall we? Your father. An elderly man, living in Ashfield, right? You visit him on occasion and keep him in the loop about your life. Did you tell him where you were headed when you left for Shepherd's Glen?"

James set his jaw, refusing to speak.

Holloway raised an eyebrow. "No answer? Interesting. That leaves room for doubt. If I were a jury, I'd start to wonder. Perhaps you did mention something. A slip of the tongue, maybe?"

James's silence only seemed to embolden her.

"You know, we did a little digging on your father, too," she said. "Surprisingly, he came up clean. No skeletons in his closet, no dirty secrets. Even rescued an abandoned infant once. A regular saint, it seems."

James stared back at her, his jaw tight. He knew his father had nothing to do with any of this, but the mere mention of him made his blood run cold. Holloway, sensing his discomfort, smiled wider.

"But you see, James," she continued, "there's an old saying in the legal world: 'Show me the man, and I'll show you the crime.' It doesn't matter if he's innocent or not. All it takes is a little creativity and a bit of paperwork, and we can make him look guilty of whatever we want. Fraud, corruption, assault, rape or murder... the possibilities are endless for us."

James's heart pounded in his chest. The thought of his father, an honest man who had stayed far away from the nightmare that had consumed his life, being dragged into this made his stomach turn. "He has nothing to do with this," James said through gritted teeth.

Holloway raised an eyebrow. "Of course not. But that won't matter, will it? If the courts get their hands on him, if I get my hands on him, I can make sure your dear old dad spends the rest of his life rotting in a cell. And there won't be a thing you can do about it."

James strained against his bonds, his anger flaring up. "You're bluffing."

"Am I?" Holloway's voice was cold and unwavering. "We have connections, Sunderland. Power. You don't think we've kept our grip on this town for generations by playing fair, do you? We've dealt with far more challenging cases than your little family. We always get what we want."

"Oh, and as for your father…" she said casually. "I did some further digging. That apartment building he manages back in Ashfield? I'll see to it that he loses everything."

James's stomach twisted. His father had always been distant, but he didn't deserve to be dragged into this. "Please, leave him out of this," James demanded, his voice low and shaking with barely contained fury.

Holloway raised an eyebrow, feigning surprise. "Leave him out of this? James, dear, you should know by now, that this isn't just about you. It's about everyone connected to you. Your family, your friends… they're all loose ends. And as far as I'm concerned, your father's been living a little too comfortably for someone who raised a murderer."

"He's not part of this," James spat, his voice rising. "He's an old man. He doesn't know anything about Silent Hill, about you, or your goddamn Order!"

"Doesn't matter," she said with a dismissive shrug. "I have ways of making sure he loses it all. Falsified building inspections, city codes… 'unlivable conditions' all tend to carry some serious consequences, especially when the right authorities get involved. I can make it all disappear overnight."

James's hands trembled against the cuffs, his body rigid with anger. "You're going to ruin his life for no reason. You're no better than the monsters you claim to be fighting."

Holloway leaned in, her voice barely above a whisper, keeping her eyes cold and calculating. "It's all part of the game, Sunderland. Do you think you can walk into our world, interfere with our plans, and not suffer consequences? You're delusional. Your father? He's just collateral damage. Just like everyone else you care about."

James's jaw tightened, every muscle in his body straining against his bonds. "If you touch him I swear-"

"Swear all you want," she interrupted, standing tall again, her smile as sharp as ever. "But in the end, you're just a man in a chair, tied down by your own mistakes. You've already lost. I'll make sure he loses everything. And you'll sit here, helpless, knowing it was all because you crossed the Order."

"Then we have our second 'witness,'" she continued. "Your daughter. Laura, is it? A college student now, in Massachusetts? You must be so proud." Her tone was drenched in mock warmth, but her eyes stayed cold. "I bet she'd be interested to know about all of this... about where her father is and what he's up to. Maybe she's even waiting for you to check in, isn't she?"

James's teeth clenched tighter.

"Do you think you can keep her out of this, Sunderland?" Holloway pressed, her voice now colder, harsher. "Do you believe that if she comes looking for you, I don't know? That I can't make sure they never find you?"

James stared at her, seething, but she carried on, unperturbed.

"You see, we ran a full background check on you and everyone connected to you. It's remarkable how much information is out there, once you know where to look."

She rifled through the papers before pulling out another file. "Your dear adopted daughter, Laura. Funny thing about her... Did you know she was one of ours?" Holloway raised an eyebrow, watching as James's expression shifted from anger to confusion. "Yes, yes, the orphanage. Hope House Orphanage, a side project of one our leaders, Dahlia Gillespie. The one connected to our lovely little Order. Oh, of course, some of them slip out... get adopted by 'outsiders' who think they're doing something good." She made the word sound filthy, her disdain palpable. "But the majority? Well, they should have joined the Order."

She tossed the file onto the table in front of him, letting it land with a soft thud. "It seems Laura was one of the lucky ones. Managed to escape. Or so she thinks." Holloway leaned in "But the thing is, Sunderland, once you've been touched by the Order, it never really lets you go. And Laura... well, she's still connected. Like a loose thread, waiting to be pulled."

James clenched his fists, straining against his bonds as he glared up at her. "Leave her alone," he growled, his voice shaking with fury.

Holloway straightened up, pretending to consider his demand. "Leave her alone? Hmm, I don't think you understand how this works, James. Laura's already involved, whether she knows it or not. And now that I know about her... well, it would be such a shame to waste such a valuable resource. Don't you think?"

James's chest tightened. The thought of Laura being dragged into this madness, the cult's twisted rituals, made his blood boil. He had taken her in at Mary's request, and had given her a second chance at life, he couldn't let them undo all of that.

"Laura's my daughter now," he snarled. "You won't touch her."

"Your daughter?" Holloway let out a mocking laugh. "She's ours by blood, Mr. Sunderland. It's just a matter of time before we bring her back into the fold. She belongs with us, and deep down, she knows it. Once we find her, once she realizes what we're offering, she'll return. Maybe she'll even thank us."

James's face twisted with rage. "She's not coming back to you. She's moved on. She's a college student now, living her life far away from this madness."

Holloway leaned in, her voice dropping to a cold whisper. "You think distance will protect her? Do you think a new life will keep her safe? We have ways of bringing people back. And we can be very persuasive. And if we can't convince her with words, well… there are other methods."

James's heart raced, fury and fear swirling inside him. Laura had fought so hard to escape her past, to find a future beyond Silent Hill. But the thought of her being dragged back into the nightmare made his stomach churn. James's blood boiled. He strained against the cuffs, his fists clenched tight.

"You're not getting her," James growled. "I won't let you. I'll protect her. She's free from this hell, and I'll make damn sure she stays that way."

Holloway tilted her head, her smile fading as her tone grew colder. "We'll see about that, Mr. Sunderland. You don't have as much control as you think. The Order always gets what it's owed, and Laura, like you, owes a debt."

James locked eyes with her. "Laura's not like me. She's stronger than you think. You'll never break her."

Holloway straightened, her confidence unshaken. "That's what they all say at first. But time has a way of changing things. Don't worry, James... we'll find her. And when we do, she'll remember where she truly belongs."

Judge Holloway turned back as her fingers drummed idly against her thigh. "Oh, and there's one more thing I almost forgot," she said, like a lawyer revealing damning evidence to a hapless defendant. She reached into her coat pocket and pulled out a folded envelope. She waved it in the air for him to see, almost playfully.

James's heart sank as he recognized it instantly. It was Angela Orosco's letter.

"You were stupid, Sunderland," Holloway said with a slow, deliberate smile. "Stupid. Leaving something like this behind in your car? Under the passenger seat, no less. A letter, with her PO box address in Brahms and everything." She unfolded the letter and began to read aloud, her voice dripping with condescension. "'Dear James, I'm doing much better now… teaching art, finding peace...'" Holloway glanced at him, her eyes gleaming with cruel amusement. "Touching. Touching. But so stupid of you. In all of my years as judge and prosecutor, I've met some really stupid criminals, but this takes the cake."

James's eyes burned with fury. He struggled hard again against the ropes, his fists tightening with each word she spoke, but it was useless. She had him bound too tightly. "You leave her out of this!" he snarled through gritted teeth.

Holloway chuckled. "Leave her out of this? James, my darling, you brought her into this by being reckless. Now I have her PO box, her location, and her precious little words." She waved the letter like it was some kind of trophy. "Do you think a simple PO box is enough to hide her from us? From me?"

She stepped closer, leaning down, bringing the letter inches from his face. "I wonder how Angela would feel knowing you've put her life in danger because you couldn't bother to clean out your car. I imagine she'd be pretty angry with you, wouldn't she?"

James seethed, his breathing heavy, as Holloway continued her sadistic game.

"The system is thorough, James." She said "Very thorough. I know you've been writing to her for years, a little pen pal of sorts. Now, tell me... how deep does that connection run? Would she come looking for you if she stopped hearing from you? Would she get curious?"

Holloway flipped open another file and pulled out a faded newspaper clipping. "Quite the story. A small-town tragedy. Violent alcoholic father... murdered in his own home. Most people would call it self-defense, of course." She raised her eyebrows. "But any idiot, even a high schooler could see it was a crime of passion."

James clenched his jaw, refusing to meet her gaze. His heart twisted at the mention of Angela, someone who had been through more pain than anyone should ever endure. "She didn't have a choice," James spat. "He abused her. She did what she had to do to protect herself. It was self-defense."

Holloway leaned in closer, her smirk fading into a sneer. "Self-defense? A crime of passion, Sunderland. Any idiot could see that. She murdered him. And now, a murderer is out there, teaching children? Teaching art? We can't have that, can we?"

James's heart sank. Angela had finally begun to rebuild her life, and now this twisted cult was threatening to take that away from her. His mind raced, trying to figure out how to protect her from whatever Holloway had planned.

"Please, Holloway, don't hurt her," James begged. "She didn't have a choice. He abused her for years. She did what she had to do to protect herself. It was self-defense. She's made progress. She's healing. She's finally moving on from everything that happened to her. Angela's been through hell, and she's worked too damn hard to get where she is. I'm proud of her, and she doesn't deserve to be dragged into this."

Holloway's eyes flashed with fury. "She doesn't deserve to be dragged into this? You dragged her into this the moment you joined Adam's little crusade against the Order." She slammed her hand against the table. "You think you're the only one suffering, James? You and Adam think you can just tear down everything we've built, everything we've sacrificed for this town? The Shepherds... you and your family are the ones responsible for this mess."

James's gaze darkened, struggling against the restraints. "This isn't about Angela," he growled. "It's about you and your cult taking away everything I had, everything Adam had."

Holloway shook her head, her lips curling in disgust. "You still don't get it, do you? This isn't about your feelings. This is about preserving order. About ensuring the future of Shepherd's Glen. Angela, your father, your daughter, none of them matter in the grand scheme of things. What matters is the Order, and anyone who stands in our way will be dealt with."

James glared at her, his chest heaving with anger. "Leave Angela out of this. She's not your target. She's finally free, and she's earned that freedom. Don't take that away from her."

But Holloway's eyes were devoid of empathy. "James, when you got involved, you brought her into this. Just like you brought your family into this. Everyone you've ever cared about is a part of this now. You've made sure of that."

Judge Holloway paused, her smirk widening. "Oh, don't worry, Sunderland. Angela Orosco will face justice. I'll make sure of it. Twenty years to life in a maximum-security prison for the cold-blooded murder of poor, poor Mr. Orosco. It'll be quite the trial, 'a beloved father, taken too soon, by his daughter.' She'll be painted as the villain she truly is."

James's heart pounded violently in his chest, as he strained against the ropes. "You can't do that!" he growled. "Angela was a victim. You know the truth! You've figured out what kind of man he was!"

Holloway's face darkened, her smile fading into a mask of cold authority. "Oh, I know the truth, Sunderland," she said, her voice a whisper, but sharp as a knife. "I know that Thomas Orosco was an abuser, a monster. But the courts? The world? They'll see what I want them to see. And what I want is to hurt you, just like you hurt the Order. Just like you helped Adam Shepherd betray his duty. You've taken things from us, Sunderland, and now it's time we take from you."

James's eyes burned with fury. "You want to punish me? Then do it. But please don't drag Angela or Laura into this. They have nothing to do with your sick games!"

Holloway tilted her head, her smile returning with a sinister edge. "Ah, but you see, that's where you're wrong. They became part of this the moment you got involved in Adam's rebellion. You didn't just hurt the Order, James. You hurt me. And you know what happens when someone hurts me? I take everything they care about and twist the knife deeper."

James slumped back in the chair, torn between despair and rage. He had thought Silent Hill had taken everything from him, but Judge Holloway was proving there was more to lose. His voice was raw as he whispered, "You're a monster."

Holloway chuckled, stepping closer to him, her fingers tracing the back of his chair with a mocking tenderness. "You say that as though you're any different. After all, didn't you kill Mary in a fit of passion? You took her life. And now, I'm just taking back what's owed."

"I did it because she was suffering," James hissed, trembling with anger and pain. "I didn't do it for power or cruelty."

Holloway knelt to eye level with him, her smile twisted with sadistic pleasure. "It doesn't matter, James. What matters is the result. And the result is that you killed your wife. Just like Angela killed her father. You'll watch, helpless, as her life crumbles, knowing you could have stopped it if you hadn't gotten involved."

"I swear to God if you touch them-"

Holloway interrupted with a cold laugh. "What are you going to do, Sunderland? You're tied to a chair, a prisoner of the Order, and I hold all the cards. Your threats mean nothing."

She stood up, smoothing her dress with a satisfied smirk. "Enjoy your time here, James. Maybe take this as a moment of reflection. Think about everything you've lost, and what more you stand to lose. Angela will be the first. Your father or Laura, perhaps, will follow. And you? You'll live knowing it was all because of your choices."

With one last mocking glance, she turned and left the room, the door slamming shut behind her, leaving James alone with his seething rage and her threat hang over him.