Chapter 3 – Shepherd Family Home

Alex remembered all the moments of his childhood as he stepped inside the house. The home he had grown up in, his sanctuary, felt just as distant as those precious memories, Laughter, arguments, warmth from his mother's embrace, his father's cold reserved gaze.

The interior was dim, air stagnant. His boots echoed off the wooden floor as he called out. "Mom? Joshua?"

Silence.

He stepped into the living room, eyes scanning the surroundings. It looked untouched by time, as if no one bothered to clean or rearrange anything since he left. The same worn-out couch sat against the far wall. The same framed family photos still lined the mantle, dust gathering on the glass frame. One photo, a picture of him and Joshua, was taken years ago. Alex had a bittersweet smile.

Just then, a soft voice broke the silence.

"Alex."

He turned to see his mother, Lillian Shepherd, standing in the doorway that led to the kitchen. She looked pretty much the same as Alex remembered her, elegant, reserved, hair pulled into a bun. But there was something different now, exhausted, deep lines of worry etched into her face. It seemed as though time had finally taken its toll on her.

"Mom," Alex said. Without thinking, he moved towards and embraced her.

Lillian stiffened at first, body rigid in his arms. But after a moment, she relaxed and hugged him back, if only briefly. "It's been a long time." She said quietly.

Alex pulled back and looked into her eyes. "I know, I'm sorry, Mom. I wanted to come back sooner, but…" He trailed off, mind racing back to the war, the bombs, the bullets, the chaos in Iraq, everything he had been through. But he didn't want to burden her with that. Not yet.

'Where's Joshua?" Alex asked, looking around the room, half expecting his kid brother to burst through any moment. "I've been looking forward to seeing him."

Lillian darkened her eyes, tightening her expression. She folded her hands and turned away. "Joshua… isn't here right now. He's with a friend." Her voice was soft but intense. As if she was carefully choosing to avoid saying something else.

"With a friend?" Alex asked. "Where? How come no one is answering?"

Before Lilian could respond, the front door creaked open. Alex turned, and standing there in the doorway, was his father, Adam Shepherd. The man had always been a distant, towering presence in Alex's life, both in physical stature, he was over six feet tall after all, and in temperament. Adam's dark eyes looked at Alex with a cold, unreadable expression. He stood tall, shoulders broad, his demeanor as rigid as Alex remembered.

"Dad," Alex said with a mixture of emotions, relief, apprehension, and a desire for approval.

Adam stepped inside his home and closed the door. For a long moment, he said nothing, simply staring at his son, sizing him up. Finally, he spoke. "Alex. You've come home."

There wasn't any warmth to his words. No embrace like with his mother. Just a statement of fact, plain and simple. But Alex could sense something troubling his father, whatever it was, he wasn't sharing. The silence was heavy and uncomfortable until Lillian cleared her throat to clear the tension.

"Adam," she said. "Dinner's ready. We should all sit down."

Adam glanced once at Alex and then back to his wife, nodding. "Fine. Let's eat." He turned and walked towards the dining room.

Alex followed, feeling a knot form in his stomach. He hadn't expected a grand reunion, but still, his father's coldness stung. Lillian, walking beside him, gave a reassuring glance.

They entered the dining room, and Alex was greeted by the sight of a fully prepared meal, the first home-cooked meal he'd seen in years. Steak, corn on the cob, mashed potatoes, all classic American staples, just like he used to have as a kid. The table was set for three.

They sat down in silence before Adam led the family in prayer "Bless us, O Lord, and these, Thy gifts, which we are about to receive from Thy bounty. Amen."

After the prayer, the clinking silverware was the only sound as they began to eat. Alex decided to break the silence.

"So uh, Dad." Alex started, keeping his tone casual. "What's been going on in Shepherd's Glen? The town looks so…. Different."

Adam's fork paused, but he didn't look up from his plate. "Shepherd's Glen has always had its… challenges." He said flatly. "You've seen what it's become."

Alex frowned. "Yeah, it looks abandoned out there. No one's around and the place is falling apart. What's going on?"

Adam looked up to glance towards Lillian, then back to his plate. "It's nothing you need to worry about."

"Dad, I just came back from Iraq," Alex replied, feeling frustrated. "If something's wrong, just tell me."

Adam finally looked up at him, dark eyes locked onto Alex's. For a moment, there was a flash of something, something Alex couldn't read. Was it guilt? Fear?

"Everything will be fine," Adam said, voice measured. "You should focus on yourself. Rest. Take it easy. There will be time later."

Alex decided to change the subject, deciding not to push it further. "What about Joshua? Mom said he was out with a friend?"

Adam's face hardened, tightening his jaw. "Yes." He said in a curt tone. "He's out with a friend."

"Which friend? Why hasn't anyone heard from him?"

"He's fine Alex. I don't walk to talk about Joshua now." Adam said putting down his fork.

There was a tension in the room. Alex glanced back at Lillian, who seemed to be shrinking away. Her eyes were downcast, hands folded on her lap.

Alex knew better than to push his father further. He had seen his look before, the one that told him it was best to back off. But something wasn't right. His parents were hiding something.

Alex forced himself to take a bite of his food, a fork full of mashed potatoes, he could barely taste it. The dinner he had longed for felt hollow now, just like the house, and just like the town.

"I should see Elle," Alex said suddenly, trying to have a conversation. He remembered his old childhood friend. "Maybe she knows what's going on around here."

Adam snapped his gaze back at him. "There will be plenty of time for that." He said firmly. "For now, just focus on being home."

Alex stared at his father, his instincts were screaming at him, telling him that something was very wrong. But for now, he nodded, deciding to wait.

Adam Shepherd went back to cutting his steak, the sharp knife cutting into the meat, medium rare, just as he liked it. His mind was focused on the task, gaze focused on the plate as if the steak was all that mattered. But inside his head, he felt conflicted. One thought and another pulled him in different directions.

Alex was talking about his time overseas in Iraq, recounting stories from his squad mates with pride. "My squad was tight-knit, you know? We went through hell together. 'Rangers lead the Way', right?" Alex chuckled, pausing to take a bite of the corn on the cob. "We had each other's backs, no matter what. Just like you taught me."

Adam's hand froze for a moment, then returned to cutting his steak. Rangers. Special Forces. They were alike in more ways than one. Both trained to withstand the horrors of war and emerge the other side, stronger. He knew what it was like to lead men into battle, to shoulder responsibility. But right now, he wasn't thinking about that. He was calculating, weighing the odds of survival against an impossible decision. One that had been gnawing at him for years.

He glanced at Lillian, who sat quietly across from him, eyes darting between her husband and her son. She held a reserved smile, though her features betrayed a tension beneath her calm exterior. She was happy to have Alex home, that much was true, and Adam could tell. But she knew that things weren't the same. Shepherd's Glen wasn't the same. Nothing was.

"So, how was it, Dad?" Alex asked, trying to bridge the gap between them. "I mean… being in Special Forces. I've heard stories before, about the Green Berets, but now that I've been through some of it myself, it's different now. I get it, you know?"

Adam chewed his steak slowly, considering his response. How could he even begin to compare wars in distant, far-off lands to the one he was preparing to fight now? His enemies weren't insurgents or foreign soldiers. They were here, his neighbors, in the very town he had sworn to protect. They were people he had known his whole life, and now they demanded the ultimate price.

"The army… it prepares you for a lot." Adam finally said, keeping his voice low. "You think you've seen it all, but something else comes along and tests you in ways that you'd never expect. You survive because you have to. But what you do with that survival…." He let the words hang in the air as if answering was too complex.

Alex nodded. "I get that now. Some of the guys in my squad… well, we didn't all make it back. But the ones who did, we just keep going, because… what else could we do, right?"

Adam grunted in acknowledgment, but his thoughts were far from his son's tales of Iraq. The boy had no idea what awaited him here. He had no idea about the Order, the sacrifices, or the horrors that festered beneath the surface of Shepherd's Glen. And Adam, sitting across from his son, wasn't entirely sure if he should warn him or shield him.

Could Alex help him? Could he be trusted to fight Holloway and the others? Or was it already too late? Holloway had already demanded the impossible. The Order had its rules, its traditions, and Adam was running out of time whether to comply or fight back.

"Deputy Wheeler," Adam thought, spearing a piece of corn with his fork. He was the only one in town who might help. Loyal, smart, tough, a good man. Maybe he and Wheeler could stand against the Order together. But how would he even begin to involve Alex in that fight? His son had just returned from one war, and now Adam was contemplating dragging him into another, this time against their people.

"Dad?" Alex's voice cut through. "You seem… I don't know, distracted?"

Adam blinked, realizing he had barely acknowledged his son. His fork was still in the air. "It's nothing." But as he spoke, he knew that was just another lie. "Just… thinking. A lot has happened since you left."

Alex leaned forward. "I know it's been a while. I'm sorry I didn't get in touch more often. But I'm here now, Dad. We can talk about anything."

Talking wasn't going to solve this. If only Alex knew the truth. His fingers flexed around his knife. A war was coming to Shepherd's Glen, one that would make whatever Alex faced in Iraq seem like child's play. The order demanded blood, and it was going to get its sacrifices.

Maybe Holloway was right. Maybe the only way he could save his son was to end it all before Alex got too close. Before he learned the truth.

Adam stole another glance at Lillian. She hadn't spoken a word since Alex started talking about the military, but her eyes showed a quiet anguish. She knew what was at stake, what the Order would do to them if Adam didn't comply. And yet, here she was, holding it all together.

"Have you seen Joshua?" Alex asked again.

The name cut through, and Adam's chest tightened. Joshua, his youngest boy.

"He's at a friend's house," Adam said too quickly. "We'll see him soon."

Alex lingered his eyes on Adam's, suspicion creeping before he pushed it aside. "I hope so. It's been too long."

Adam stabbed at his steak again, cutting it with more force than necessary. "Plenty of time for that. Let's just focus on you being back home. The rest… we'll deal with later."

Alex continued talking about his army life, his squad mates, Miller and Padilla, and their shared experiences. But Adam's mind kept drifting again. He knew he would soon confront the Order, the building pressure from Holloway, and the possibility of recruiting Alex in the fight. Could his son help him, or would involving him put them both in danger?

He chewed, slowly, considering his next move. Holloway was pushing for the sacrifice. That much was certain. If he moved to defy her, he would need allies. But Alex just returned from one battlefield, was it fair to drag him to another?

Or was it the only way to save him?

Adam's fingers tightened on the knife, grounding him as he wrestled with making his decision.

Dinner had passed, and the clinking of plates and the causal talk of Alex's time in Iraq created an illusion of normalcy, one that neither Adam nor Lillian felt. But Alex, back in the comfort of home, seemed eager to let the thing hold. He was oblivious to the coming storm.

Adam had been quiet, too quiet. He'd been turning something over and over in his mind, considering the possibilities, running scenarios, calculating odds, and reaching conclusions. As they finished a dessert of apple cobbler and vanilla ice cream, Adam made his decision.

He would test himself tonight.

"Alex," Adam said as they stood up from the table, his voice casual, too casual. "Why don't you have a drink before bed? You've had a long journey. It'll help you relax."

Alex was caught off guard by his Dad's sudden suggestion. It was generous and he gave him a small smile. "Sure, Dad. Sounds good."

Adam walked back to the kitchen, hands calmly moving as he poured a mixture of whiskey and water. But there was more to it than that, a sedative, strong enough to put Alex into a deep sleep for the night.

When he returned, he handed Alex the glass. "Drink up son. You've earned it."

Alex took a strong smell, his dad had never offered him alcohol before. He must be proud of him. Without a second thought, he drank deeply. A moment later, he felt tired, more tired than he let on. The drink already seemed to soothe his travel-weary body. Within minutes, he was fighting to keep his eyes open, limbs growing heavy.

"Feeling alright?" Adam asked, voice neutral, though there was tension beneath the question.

"Yeah… just tired all of a sudden," Alex mumbled. "Think I'll head off to bed."

Adam quickly moved to his son's side, helping him guide his way as Alex's legs buckled. "I've got you, son." He said, more to himself than to Alex. "Let's get you to bed."

Lillian watched them from the corner of the room with worry. She didn't say a word, but Adam felt that he could feel her eyes on him as he carried their son upstairs. Alex laid his head against Adam's shoulder, the sedative was taking full effect.

Adam got Alex settled into his old bed, he stood above him, heart pounding in his chest. This was it. The moment he had been dreading for years. The very one that he had tried to refuse so long ago that cost him his sister, Mary.

The Shepherd family had always been bound by the water, by the lake, by the sacrifices made to it, and by the old traditions passed down through blood. The Order demanded it. They always have, every fifty years. And tonight, the water called for Alex.

Adam stood by the door for a moment. He could hear Lillian downstairs, putting away the dishes. He thought about calling her, telling her what he was about to do. But he knew her answer. She would stop him, and maybe deep down, that's what he wanted.

But no. He had to see things through.

He walked down the hallway, to the bathroom. The old tub gleamed in the moonlight, casting a long, eerie shadow on the tiled floor. Adam turned on the faucet, water gushing out, swirling as it began to fill the tub.

The sound of rushing water filled the room, drowning out the silence of the house. Adam stared at it, he remembered when Alex had just been but a baby. He had bathed him in this very tub once. His small, fragile body had fit perfectly in his arm, and Adam had washed him gently, making sure the water didn't get too cold.

And truth be told, he was always cold to Alex. Distant. Detached. It wasn't that he didn't love Alex, he did, more than words could ever express, but the weight of the Order's demands, the curse that plagued their family for generations, had built a wall between them. He had been distant to protect him, to keep him from the truth.

But now, there was no more distance. There was only the decision that lay before him.

The tub was full now, water still and clear, beckoning to him. Adam knelt beside the tub, staring into its depths. His reflection stared back at him, hollow and tired. His hand hovered over the faucet, ready to turn it off, to carry out what the Order demanded, what Holloway demanded.

But he couldn't do it.

The memories of Alex as a baby, his laughter, his tiny hand gripping Adam's finger, all rushed back to him. How could he do this? How could he sacrifice his son?

He stuck his hand in the water to the drain, and with a twist, he pulled the plug. The water began to swirl, and drained away, taking with it the weight of tonight's decision.

Adam stood up, knees aching from the pressure, and then he walked out of the bathroom. Heart pounding in his chest, he couldn't do it, he wouldn't do it.

He passed by Alex's room, and he stopped and looked inside. His son was still asleep, chest rising and falling, peaceful, unaware of how close he had come to meeting the fate of so many before him.

Adam had made his decision. He would not follow the Order's demands. He had other plans.

Quietly, he made his way downstairs to the kitchen. The phone sat on the counter, one that hadn't been used much in years. Adam hesitated for a moment before dialing a number had hadn't called in a long time.

The phone rang once. Twice. Three times before a familiar voice answered on the other end.

James Sunderland stirred awake in his dark apartment. The sound of his phone ringing pierces his comfortable sleep. Groggy and disoriented, he reached out, fumbling for the phone on his nightstand. His fingers brushed over a box of tissues and a book before they finally found the receiver.

He glanced at his alarm clock: 2:14 a.m.

"Who the hell is calling me at this hour?" he muttered to himself as he brought the phone to his ear.

"Yeah?" his voice was rough, still half-asleep.

The voice on the other end was low, familiar, and sounded urgent. "James… It's Adam."

That name woke James up fast. He sat up rubbing his eyes with his free hand. "Adam? What the hell, man? It's two in the morning." He yawned again. James wasn't fully awake yet, but he realized something wasn't right. Adam never called him, especially not in the middle of the night.

"James? It's Adam." He repeated. "I need your help."

There was a pause, and Adam could almost hear his brother-in-law's mind working everything through.

"Adam? What's going on? You sound… off."

Adam glanced over his shoulder as if someone might be listening in. "It's the Order, James. It's getting worse. I need allies. I'm out of friends in this town, but you… I think you might understand better than anyone."

Another pause. This one is longer. "Tell me what you need."

Adam exhaled slowly, feeling a strange mixture of relief and dread. "I'll explain everything when you get here. I think they might be listening in. But hurry, James. I don't have much time before they come for us."

Adam smirked, still holding the phone up to his ear. "I'll buy you a beer when you get here. We'll sit down and talk about this properly."

On the other end, James sighed, the grogginess replaced by something sharper. "Adam, you know I quit that stuff a long time ago. Laura saw to that. AA's been keeping me in line."

Adam went silent for a moment. James's comment hit him harder than he expected. Another thing he'd forgotten, in the mess of his own life that James had been through his battles. Laura, James's adopted daughter, and Adam's niece, that little girl he remembered her as, the one that had pushed James to get clean. She had been the one steady thing in James's life after the hell that Silent Hill put him through.

"Right," Adam muttered. "Sorry, I forgot."

"It's fine," James replied softly. "Just don't expect me to share a drink when I get there. But I'll take a coffee. A Strong coffee.

Adam chuckled at this, though it lacked humor. "Deal. I'll make it strong enough to keep you awake through whatever we have to deal with.

"You sound like you're accepting a hell of a lot worse than a family reunion."

Adam's gaze wandered toward the dark window of his study. "I am James. I am."

There was a silence between them, but they shared an unspoken understanding. Both men had seen things, and been through things that most people wouldn't understand. There was no need to explain further. James knew that Shepherd's Glen had its monsters, just like Silent Hill. And Adam knew that James was one of the few people who could handle it.

"I'll be there in the morning," James said firmly. "You just hold down the fort until I arrive, alright?"

Adam nodded, even though James couldn't see him. "Yeah… I will. Thanks, James."

"Get some sleep, Adam. You sound like you need it."

Adam chuckled again, this time with more sincerity. "You too."

He hung up the phone and stared at it for a moment. The weight of what he had just done began sinking in. He had defied the Order. They weren't going to let this go unanswered. He had chosen his son over the ancient traditions. But in doing so, he had signed their death warrants.

But it didn't matter. He would fight like he had fought before, and he would fight again. But this time, he wouldn't be fighting alone.

Adam Shepherd, a retired soldier was preparing to go to war again, against the very people had had once sworn to protect.

This time, he wasn't sure if he would survive.