Chapter 1 -Fog- -1- Harry Mason walked into the fog. His footsteps were unsteady as he was still feeling the shock of the accident. His Jeep had broken through a guardrail and was now lying at the bottom of a ravine. Harry recalled the shadow that had dashed out into the road. Just as he was about to plow through the small, child-like figure, he completely lost control of the wheel, like the vehicle was an iron horse that refused to follow the driver’ reigns. Tires screeching, the jeep had collided with the guardrail as if it was moving on its own accord. It was hard to remember anything else after that. By the time he had come to his senses, the engine was stalling and the Jeep wouldn’t budge. “Cheryl!” Harry called out through the vision-obscuring mist. His daughter had disappeared from the car. It was unlikely that she had thrown out by the impact of the crash as the passenger door was left wide open. Not only that, but he was positive she’d been wearing her seatbelt properly. He yelled again, but there was no reply. He searched around the area of the wreck, but found nothing. Harry was beginning to panic, his body burning with parental concern for his daughter.

He absentmindedly reached with the back of his hand to wipe the sweat from his forehead, only to find that the liquid dripping down his face was blood. It was only a scratch, he wasn’t seriously hurt. But what about Cheryl? Where was she? Was she unconscious? Bleeding? Injured? Maybe she went off to try to find help. Harry knew that Cheryl was a clever child, and he wasn’t just thinking that because he was her father. She was clever, resourceful, and seemed to possess wisdom beyond her seven years. But she was also incredibly reckless, a fact that only increased Harry’s worry. Charles Hatcher... Albert Fish... Jesse Pomeroy... The names of these loathsome people from the past surfaced in his mind and overlapped with the image of his daughter. Those were the monsters that lurked in society, hunting down their young victims with their poison fangs. If Cheryl, a little girl lost in an unfamiliar city, were to encounter a person like that... Harry continued through the thick fog, his every thought consumed by the need to find his daughter as soon as possible. “Cheryl!” He called her name again and again as he pushed through the countless water vapors that swirled through the air. The dense mist hung over the world like a sea of clouds that fell from the sky. It blanketed the town of Silent Hill, a small town with less than twenty thousand inhabitants. Was this kind of weather unusual for the area? Harry had never heard anything about fog this severe occurring around the lakeside resort town. The entire lake would have had to evaporate to create something like this...

What a failure of a vacation this was turning out to be. He should have been leisurely floating across the lake with a fishing rod in his hands by now...Or enjoying the Maine wilderness with his daughter... “Hey Daddy, do you think there’ll be ponies there? I wanna ride a pony around, just like a cowboy!” Since they began their long car ride, Cheryl had hardly been able to contain her excitement. Harry couldn’t really blame her; it was her first vacation after all. “Okay cowgirl, if we can find a petting zoo, you can pick out a nice pony and ride it all day if you want. But just make sure not to get into any bar fights. I don’t want to have to skip town before high noon.” Harry played along with a smile. “I’ll lasso up a cow. Then you and me can have a barbeque!” “Sounds tasty. But I think dad would rather have a trout from the lake. Do you think you’d like to try and catch a fish?” “Yeah! But...I feel kinda bad for the little fishies. Maybe if we catch them, we should let them go.” “Oh, so you’ll feel sorry for the fish, but not the cow?” “It’s different. Cows always look like they’re frowning and they smell really bad. They’re not really cute at all.” Harry couldn’t help but laugh at her child-like pickiness. She hated cows, even though her favorite food was beef stew. For the first time, Cheryl’s expression darkened and her excited chattering stopped. Silence quickly descended over the vehicle. Did I hurt her feelings? Harry wondered as he glanced over at her. Should I say I’m sorry? “What’s the matter?” “Daddy...are you gonna get in trouble because you’re taking me on a trip instead of going to work? I know you’re really busy...” “Don’t worry, daddy’s not going to get fired just for taking a little time off. I have a freelance career, remember?” “But Daddy...I heard you fighting on the phone with someone from work.” “You mean that stupid publishing agent Edward? He keeps trying to make me write about worthless entertainment gossip. He keeps going on about how ‘hot rock star scandals are ‘in’ right now” and he even told me to cancel the trip I already had planned! So I told him that spending time with Cheryl is way more important to me than work. I just had to...raise my voice a bit to get that through his thick skull, that’s all.” “Okay.” Cheryl nodded, but her warm smile didn’t return. Harry apologized to her in his heart. He knew he didn’t always have the chance to be a good father to his daughter. Ever since his wife Jodie died, he’d been left to raise Cheryl by himself. Fortunately, Harry was a writer so aside from the occasional information collecting; he could work from his home. It was far from easy. Sometimes he was so busy that all he could do for Cheryl was cook her meals, give her baths, and take her to and from school. Even when he could only manage these minimum necessities, he did everything he could to care for his daughter. All his other time was spent working to make a living, so Harry could hardly ever enjoy any time to himself. Cheryl understood this; she knew her dad had to work hard every day and she knew he was doing it for her because he loved her. She never got to go to an amusement park or to the playground, and even going out for fast food only happened very rarely. But she was always patient and understanding. She never complained, not even once. That’s what made Harry decide to take a trip to Silent Hill, the place where Cheryl’s always wanted to go, even though she had no idea where it was.

Even though he had taken this trip with all the best intentions, Cheryl was now in danger all because of one stupid driving mistake. If she was kidnapped or ended up meeting a gruesome fate, the regret would be too much to bear. Every year, hundreds of boys and girls were sexually assaulted, beaten, chopped to pieces, or murdered...and some are never found at all. Harry’s mind was infested with these grim statistics, all from a book detailing bizarre murder cases he had written some time ago. Those crimes had seemed so unimaginable, yet now they could so easily become a part of his reality. Cheryl...were could you be? It took almost no time at all to reach Silent Hill from the site of the accident. Running swiftly along a sidewalk, Harry soon arrived at what appeared to be a residential neighborhood. He was far from the shops and parks that attracted the flocks of tourists, but there still wasn’t a single passer-by to be seen. Maybe it was just because of the fog that limited his vision. The roads were empty as well. It was quiet. Too quiet. It was in the middle of the day, but the silence made it feel like the dead of night. It was the silence of a ghost town, a place devoid of life. Though the place gave Harry a strange sense of foreboding, his concern for his daughter crushed any doubts or hesitation he might have had. Finally, he found what he was looking for. He rushed over to a public phone and immediately dialed the number for the police. The receiver beeped as if it was working, but the call never connected. He tried again and again, but the results were the same. Harry resentfully slammed down the receiver. “Damn cops...how the hell are they supposed to get anything done around here if they can’t get off their lazy asses long enough to take one stupid phone call!?” Harry yelled, as if shouting to the air would magically spur the police into action. Trying to search for Cheryl in an unfamiliar town would be next to impossible on his own. On the other hand, it would be just as difficult to try to track down the police station.

“Hey, is anyone there?” Harry called out, hoping for the faint chance that someone else was out here wandering through the fog as well. He was answered only by the same oppressive silence. However, his eye happened to catch a flicker of blue through the thick white veil. Was there someone there? “Hey, wait!” Harry yelled again as he dashed into the fog. Just before he was close enough to make out any features, the small figure turned and fled. Even from behind it looked familiar. Wasn’t Cheryl wearing a blue dress...? “Cheryl...Cheryl, is that you!?” The girl said nothing, she only continued to run. “Wait, where are you going?” Harry gave chase. Strangely enough, even with the advantage of the legs of an adult over the legs of a child, he wasn’t able to keep up. “Wait! Please come back!” Could this be a case of mistaken identity? If this girl did happen to be a stranger, it would certainly make him seem more like a predator than a concerned father. Still, Harry ran. Whether it was Cheryl or not, he had to make absolutely sure. And if he did have the wrong girl, maybe she’d at least be willing to give him directions. The girl dissolved into the fog, leaving only a thin, hazy shadow for Harry to follow. The shadow darted left and was sucked into an alley. The alley ended in a solid brick wall, but off to the side was a metal gate that hung open. Beyond the gate was a narrow passage squeezed between two buildings. He has lost sight of the shadow, but there was no path it could take other than this one. The rusty side gate screeched as he pushed it aside. Harry froze. The area just inside the passage was splattered with blood.

“What the...?” In the center of the bloody pool lay a dead animal. Its pathetic body was crushed and broken, as if someone had savagely beaten it with a metal baseball bat. From what he could tell by looking at its remains, Harry guessed it used to be a dog. Who could do something so cruel...? He recalled that many pathological criminals had a history of animal abuse. Harry did his best to avert his eyes as he proceeded down the bent passageway. Between the fog overhead and the narrowness of the path, it felt like he was completely cut off from the world. He felt like he would suffocate. The confined space revived memories of his childhood; when Harry had crawled into a storm drain to play, but panicked and became trapped. He only escaped once one of his friends had dragged him out by his feet. That short but terrifying experience had given Harry a fear of enclosed spaces that persisted to this day. He would have turned back immediately if it weren’t for Cheryl. Family ties were certainly strong enough to drive a person to overcome their fears...but they were also strong enough to drive a person to folly and self-destruction... Again he found the floor painted with pools of blood. The building walls gradually turned to chain-link fences, which were also red and dripping wet. This was starting to look less like a back alley and more like a crime scene. Where were the police? Shouldn’t one of the residents have reported this? Has anyone even noticed? Harry stood frozen. His horrified gaze was fixated on the corridor’s dead end. There was a corpse there; beaten, bloody, and tied to the fence with barbed wire is if it had been crucified. However, this was no dog...it was clearly a human being. Holding his breath to endure the repulsive stench, Harry examined the body more closely. As he had suspected, the corpse had the height and physique of an adult. A wave of relief washed over him as he realized that this couldn’t be Cheryl. But then...where had that little girl gone? This passage was a dead end so she couldn’t have escaped. Harry was positive he hadn’t seen any side streets... As Harry turned to retrace his steps, a fierce roar shook his eardrums. It was an unpleasant sound that made the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end, like the shrieks of two tomcats engaged in a vicious turf war. Whatever made the sound was uncomfortably close. In fact, he could smell pungent, fishy breath coming from just behind him... In that moment, Harry was slammed against the fence and crumpled to the blood-stained ground. The impact hit him harder than the car crash had. Before he even had time to feel the pain, his consciousness began to fade. In the corner of his darkening vision, he could just barely see a strange, hideous figure lumbering towards him. The last thing to reach Harry was the sounds of gunshots in the distance. -2- Jodie...he had met her during the fall of their sophomore year of college. After hearing that she broke up with her high school boyfriend, he gathered all his courage and approached her. Having spent so long living in the shadow of unrequited love, he wanted to offer as much comfort as possible to this girl that he had only ever spoken to in his dreams. Truthfully, he had been infatuated with her since high school; watching her daily with longing eyes but never able to tell her how he felt. He remembered how ashamed he’d been when he asked her to a dance, only to learn that she was already going with someone else. But none of that mattered once they finally met. The two of them were so blissfully in love, that they were wed before either of them graduated. Every day of the nine years since then felt like their honeymoon. Even when Harry decided to quit his job and become a freelance non-fiction writer, she supported him whole-heartedly. From their perfect love, they created a perfect life, even though they were never blessed with children. Nine years after their fated meeting, Jodie went to heaven. Although it felt more like God had stolen her away and forcibly dragged her to heaven. One day, as she was walking home from work, a burglar caught in a police chase sped at a breakneck pace over the curb and crushed her. Her face was just as beautiful as it had been when she was alive as she slept in her coffin…Cheryl, too young to understand the concept of death, could only stare with her innocent little eyes… Jodie…Jodie…Cheryl… “Cheryl!” Harry called out, sitting bolt upright on the bench he had been resting on.

“You’re finally up, huh? How’re you feeling?” A woman said with a faint smile. It wasn’t Jodie and it most certainly wasn’t Cheryl. She had short, blonde hair and a face that wore no make-up, but instead wore a tough, almost masculine expression. She was looking down at Harry, her arms crossed. Her gaze wasn’t that of a woman eying a man, but of someone observing a suspect to determine his guilt. It came as no surprise when Harry spotted the badge she wore over her dark blue police uniform. “Surprisingly enough, I think I’m okay.” Harry answered. No sooner did he speak then a jolt of pain ran through his left shoulder. He grimaced, and looked around. The bench he was seated on was next to a table, which was next to several other sets of tables and seating. Across the room sat a long counter with many posters and menus posted above it. He was inside a restaurant. “You’re lucky you only got off with a couple bruises. A little longer and you probably would have gotten yourself eaten.” “So, you’re the one who saved me?” “Yeah.” The female officer shrugged like it was no big deal. There was one thing that was still getting on Harry’s nerves. “Still, you’re a cop, aren’t you? What’s going on with this town’s security? I tried to call the station earlier to get some help, but I couldn’t get it to connect. Please, my daughter’s gone missing, we need to hurry and go look for her!” The policewoman answered Harry’s criticism and frantic plea with a cool, calm attitude. “You’re a tourist, aren’t you?” “Yeah, what’s it matter?” “I’m not actually from this town. I’m an officer from Brahms, the next town over. The name’s Cybil Bennett. And you are?” “Harry. Harry Mason.” “Hold on…you’re that Harry Mason? The one who wrote ‘The Criminal’s Mask’?” “Yeah.” “I just finished reading that. Your sociological analysis of offenders who go unnoticed in communities under the guise of normal citizens was interesting and quite useful. It’s an honor the meet you, even if it isn’t the the…best of circumstances. I guess it really is a small world.” Harry could hardly believe the coincidence; what were the chances of meeting one of his readers in a place like this? His immediate reaction was to thank her for contributing to the book’s meager sales, but he stopped himself. He wasn’t here to sign any autographs. When the officer reached out for a handshake, Harry ignored the gesture and shouted, “What about my daughter!?” “Cheryl was it? You were muttering something about here while you were out.” “Yes. It’s bad enough that she’s all alone out there, but if there are any more of those creatures…please, we have to go to the police and gather a search party as soon as possible!” Cybil paused for a moment, as if reluctant to tell such grim news to a man already near hysterical. “Sorry to say this, but I haven’t been able to track down another officer anywhere in this town.” “What?” “We hadn’t been receiving any contact from Silent Hill in some time so I came to check it out. The whole town is empty, like everyone just up and left overnight.” “But that’s impossible…” “Must not be since you’re the only person I’ve been able to find. I saw you go into that alleyway so I followed you just in time to see that monster appear from the fog…I was just barely able to drive it off with my gun and save you. It was a bit of a struggle just to drag you this far.” Cybil shrugged and let out a soft chuckle. “I should head back to Brahms and get some help. Must be the fog or something, but I can’t get my radio to work either. You should leave town too. I know you’re worried about your daughter Mr. Mason but that’s a matter best left to the police. Since I crashed my bike, we’ll have to take your car back to Brahms anyway.” “That won’t work.” Harry shook his head. “My jeep’s in a ditch right now. That’s how Cheryl ended up missing in the first place.” “Geeze, this just keeps getting worse…It’s way too dangerous for you to stay in town alone.” “Maybe, but Cheryl is in just as much danger. If she just got lost while trying to look for me, then I’m more likely to find her if I stay here.” “So what are your plans if you run into another monster?” “Don’t worry, I have a weapon. I just couldn’t use it before because that creature caught me off-guard” Harry reached into his jacket pocket and reached for his nine milometer handgun. Ever since he began writing about criminals, he found that he’d quickly become a supporter of gun possession. He firmly believed that even if guns disappeared from this country, crime wouldn’t and he’d much rather have such a necessary tool if he ever need to protect his daughter. He had this weapon stashed in the jeep’s glove box and had grabbed it at the first sign of trouble. However, rather than the cold touch of steel, his hand felt nothing inside his pocket. Harry checked his pants pockets and found that they too were empty. He mentally retraced his steps, desperately trying to think of anywhere it could be, even checking to see if it had fallen underneath the bench he had been lying on. “Lose something?” Cybil’s tone reminded Harry of a mother scolding a child over losing their favorite toy. “I must have dropped it when that monster hit me…” Harry felt some of his courage slip away. Still, that alley couldn’t be too far from here. If he could just make his way back there… “I’ll…manage. I’ll find her no matter what I have to do.” Cybil shrugged again and sighed. “You’re being very reckless you know.” “I know but…risking my life is better than sitting back and waiting for someone else to bring my daughter home safely.” “So you really want to stay huh…” Cybil said, finally realizing how useless it would be to argue any further. She stepped behind the counter and pulled a small automatic handgun from the shelf below the register. The owner of this restraint must have kept it close as an anti-burglar measure. “Take this and be sure to watch yourself.” She placed the gun in Harry’s hand. “And don’t die. I’d like to read your next book.” Her face softened into a coy smile, but her eyes were as sharp as ever. “Thanks, and sorry for losing my temper earlier.” Harry eyed the weapon in his hands. For the first time since he found himself in the disastrous situation, he was beginning to feel like he had someone on his side. “Now I want you to stay put, okay? Don’t leave this building.” “Got it.” Even as Cybil turned to leave the café, she didn’t doubt for a second that he’d break that promise as soon as she was gone. -3- After Cybil had departed, Harry stood up from his bench. Sliding the handgun between his pants and belt, he turned and looked around the café. At several tables sat plates of half-eaten food and full cups of cold coffee. In the kitchen there was a cutting board strewn with freshly-chopped lettuce and hamburger meat that had yet to be formed into patties. There wasn’t anything broken and there was no sign of vandalism. It was as if the employees had abandoned their work and the customers had abandoned their food in a hurry. If this place was deserted just like the police station, then maybe the whole town really was empty. But how could a mass exodus go so completely unnoticed? There was no news of the event and even the police from the neighboring town were unaware of the situation. Could it be a government cover-up? Perhaps some sort of hazardous infection broke out and everyone was removed from town and quarantined…No, if that had happened the town itself would have been blocked off and no one would have been allowed to leave. He also would have run into some sort of checkpoint on the highway on his way here. It was wildly unlikely that they were using one place in town to house thousands of people all at once though. So if nobody left town, that meant that every person living in Silent Hill had just vanished, like they were going about their business when suddenly they were all sucked into a black hole. Harry grinned and began to chuckle at the thought. He certainly hadn’t considered the possibility of supernatural happenings yet. This was all beginning to sound like a bad horror novel. But no matter how many times you read a book, it’s completely different from real life. There’s no way Harry could ever believe there was something paranormal behind all of this, he wouldn’t let himself. But now it was different. He had already seen with his own eyes a creature that defied any logical explanation. A creature that had very nearly killed him. If he didn’t believe before, he would have to start believing now. Something colorful caught his eye and he noticed a tourist brochure with a map of the town printed on it sitting next to the register. It was being used as an ad, as there was a large red arrow pointing at the restaurant he was currently standing in. The building was facing Bachman Road, which stretched from north to south across the map. That was the road he had been driving down just before the accident. It must be around here then…Harry’s finger traced a path from Bachman Road to where it intersected with Finney Street and found an unmarked street that continued south. That was the alley where he chased the girl through the fog. Harry knew it would be incredibly reckless to return to the spot where he was attacked, but he had to risk it. There had to be some sort of clue there, maybe a door he had overlooked. That girl had to be hiding around there somewhere. He folded the brochure and stuck it in his pocket. After a couple moments of rest, Harry finally gathered up the resolve to leave the café. Just as his hand touched the doorknob, a harsh sound assaulted his ears. It was white noise crackling from a radio. Harry turned and saw a small pocket radio sitting on a table in the far corner of the restaurant. He walked back to the table and took a closer look. Someone had left the power switch on. Maybe one of the customers was listening to a baseball game at the time everyone disappeared. Until now the volume had been too low for him to notice, but why had it suddenly grown louder? Cybil had said that her radio wasn’t working because of the abnormal weather…For some reason the radio’s garbled hissing was making Harry incredibly uncomfortable. The noise was like nails scraping against a chalkboard; it made his skin prickle and his hair stand on end.

As the static grew in intensity, it began to mingle with another odd noise, the sound of flapping wings coming from outside the café. Harry spun around to face the window and was met with sight of an appalling creature hovering just outside. Unlike the monster that attacked him in the alley, this creature resembled a huge bat. Its leathery skin was a sickly mottled brown and stretched like canvas over its massive wings. It possessed vicious talons like a bird of prey; Harry could hear them scrape against the pavement as it came to rest on the sidewalk. He’d never seen or even heard of such a large winged animal existing in this area before. A biologist might have drooled over such an incredible discovery, but the mere sight of the creature was making Harry nauseous. Its parched skin made a terrible crackling noise as it folding its wings and settled at its perch. The features on what should have been its face and the structure of its body were so twisted it looked like it had been run over by a car. The stench of death the hung over the monster was so strong that it seemed to seep through the window and fill the café with the foul odor. For a moment, Harry was so stunned he couldn’t tear his eyes away from the repulsive sight, but he quickly scrambled to the floor and hid against the wall underneath the window. The bird-like monster was surveying the area with a fierce glint in its beady eyes. No doubt it was searching for prey. With its pick-axe like beak, it looked like it could tear flesh from bone in a matter of seconds. Anything, or anyone, who crossed its path would most certainly be remorselessly ripped to pieces and devoured. Feeling the monster’s dangerous presence through the wall his back was pressed against, Harry held his breath like his life depended on it. Static continued to spill from the radio, now beginning to sound like mocking laughter. The noise cut through the silence, as if it was trying to alert the monster to Harry’s presence. He wished desperately that he could go turn it off, but he didn’t dare move from his hiding place. The monster let out an ear-piercing screech that echoed through the empty streets and the sound of fluttering wings came again. It sounded like it had left. After what seemed like an eternity, Harry chanced a quick peek out the window and saw with incredible relief that it had indeed flown away. He turned his head to look at the radio. As the “bird” grew farther way, the static lessened until the café was quiet once again. It took surprisingly little time to rebuild the confidence to leave the restaurant. During the nerve-wracking encounter with the bird monster, he had been gripped by paralyzing terror. For a moment, he was so shaken that he was tempted to heed Cybil’s warning and barricade himself inside the café. However, the thought of his daughter meeting with such a creature spurred him into action. Harry suppressed his cowardly thoughts and forced himself to step outside. Silent Hill was still sealed beneath a blanket of fog. He strained his ears, but Harry couldn’t hear anything through the frozen silence. A howl echoed through the distance. It sounded like the barking of a dog. It must be a pet left behind by its owner. Harry felt bad for the poor thing, but he couldn’t afford to stop and help. Cheryl was his top priority now. Once he found her, his only plan was to get as far away from this strange town as quickly as possible. He would have to leave the chained animals to suffer from hunger and thirst and hope that some kind soul arrives to help them before they grow too weak to survive. Harry hurried north up Bachman Road, then turned west onto Finney Street. Icy gusts of wind fought against him every step of the way and the moist air was making his clothes damp and heavy. Each of his pounding footsteps were quickly swallowed by the white curtain of fog and continued to echo through the stillness. Before long, he found himself staring down the same alley he visited before. He pushed on without hesitation until he caught site of the metal gate in the alley’s furthest left corner. There was a small shape curled in front of the gate. Harry couldn’t help but picture the three-headed Cerberus guarding the entrance to hell. As the figure sluggishly rose to its feet, he could see that it was indeed a dog. It regarded him warily as he carefully approached. “Hey there little guy. Were you the one making all that noise?” He reached out his hand to pat the animal on the head, but he was beginning to feel a bit uneasy. What if it was unfriendly? Still, just as he was on a quest to find his daughter, he could sympathize with a dog that had lost its owner. Someone somewhere was probably worried sick that their precious pet was missing. As he moved closer, the fog that separated them faded and the animal’s true form was revealed. He had made a decent enough guess when he called the thing a “dog”. It probably had been a dog at some point in its life, but what remained of it now was just barely enough to recognize it as a canine. Most all of its hair had fallen out and pinkish, burn-like splotches of diseased flesh covered its entire body. The creature was so emaciated it seemed like little more than dry skin wrapped over the skeletal frame of a dog. On top of all that, it was clearly suffering from rabies as well; its eyes, now fixed solely on Harry, were filled with crazed hostility.

Static spilled out of his jacket pocket, like the radio was sounding an alarm. It sounded just like it had when Harry spotted the avian monster outside the café. Maybe this radio can pick up something that humans can’t, like some kind of electromagnetic wave. Maybe that’s how it always sensed the presence of these unnatural beings before Harry could. That was his theory anyway. The monster’s lips curled into a snarl, revealing its yellowed fangs. It let out a deep, murderous growl that filled the air with the stench of its rotten breath, a stench so strong it nearly made Harry choke. “Stay back!” Harry fought to keep his voice level as he took a slow step backwards. “It’s okay boy…just run along now.” The moment he reached down to retrieve the pistol from his belt, the “dog” shot forward like a missile, giving him only a second to react. He heard a sharp crack as the shot he fired bounced of the pavement inches away from his target. The rabid dog lunged at the outstretched arm holding the gun, looking to take a chunk of Harry’s flesh into its disease-ridden jaws. Harry withdrew his arm just fast enough that the teeth met the sleeve of his jacket instead. “Let go!” The more Harry struggled to twist his arm free of the dog’s jaws, the more fiercely it sunk its teeth into his sleeve. He hoped that the fabric would tear off, but his durable name-brand jacket held up against the assault. Harry swung his leg back and kicked his attacker as hard as he could. The dog let out a shriek of pain as the tip of his shoe sunk into its soft underbelly. It released its grip and tumbled onto the pavement. That injured cry hit Harry straight through the heart. He couldn’t stand to see animals being abused like this. However, the usually gentle-natured man was still human, his actions now governed by self-preservation and fear. He quickly aimed his weapon and fired. Once, twice, three times…he carelessly pulled the trigger again and again, screaming insults with each shot. He fired until the fifteen round magazine was completely empty. The dog lay twitching in a spreading pool of blood. Still breathing heavily, Harry slowly returned to his senses. He had to use all his energy just to force his muscles to move his stiff body. However, his intense relief withered in an instant as he heard growls from the trembling figure on the ground. The dog he believed to be dead began to struggle feebly back to its feet. Despite its near fatal injuries, it seemed to be rapidly recovering its strength. Harry aimed that the creature again…only to be reminded that he had foolishly wasted all his ammo. Struck with a sudden burst of inspiration, he lifted his foot and brought it down with all the force he could muster on the creature’s frail body. Ignoring the sickening, squishing sensation he felt beneath his shoe he stomped again and again until the dog lay still. Harry slumped to the ground, weak with exhaustion and the horror of what he had just done. Its skull was shattered and its body reduced to a bloody, flattened carcass. It was the same as the mangled dog he’d seen on the other side of the gate. Although his question had been answered, it brought Harry no comfort. If someone else had encountered another mad dog roaming the streets, the possibility existed that even more were lurking around now. Whatever was going on in Silent Hill had to be pretty serious if it could turn someone’s pet into that ferocious beast. Cybil wasn’t kidding when she said it was dangerous. As he went through the gate and walked down the alley, Harry meticulously checked for any gap big enough for a child to squeeze though. He found nothing. There was one iron back door with two small ventilation windows, but it was locked tight. He couldn’t get it to budge no matter how hard he tried. The windows were so far out of reach that Harry couldn’t even touch them, let alone a small girl. He gave up on the door and continued onwards. His fruitless search came to a halt when he reached the alley’s dead end. The gruesome crucified corpse was there waiting for him. He averted his eyes, looking down at the pavement instead. He noticed pieces of paper scattered across the ground. He didn’t remember seeing these here before. He reached down and picked one up. The page was covered in crayon drawings; there was a picture of Snoopy, a bride standing in a church, a balloon and a dove flying in the sky, a garden full of flowers…They all seemed incredibly familiar.

He spotted the green cardboard cover lying nearby. There was a person’s face scribbled on it. Harry’s face. These torn pages were all from Cheryl’s sketchbook. Ever since he’d given it to her as a present on her fifth birthday, she’d carried it everywhere. Not only did he love to draw, but it was her favorite way to entertain herself when her father was too busy to play. By the time she’d turned seven she’d managed to fill nearly half the pages. “I hope you’re not planning on making a career out of this,” Harry teased. “I don’t think I wanna be an artist. I’d rather work outside than be cooped up inside all day.” Cheryl’s response stung a bit. He knew it was aimed directly at him. “Well, artists don’t have to stay in a studio all day. You could go out and do landscape sketches.” “Being a truck driver would be neat.” “A truck driver? That’s a boy’s job you know.” “But I’d get to go all over the country and see everything.” “That cargo can get pretty heavy though. You think you’re up for it?” “Okay, I’ll be a taxi driver then!” “Then you better be careful if you have to make change. I’ve seen your grades and math is definitely not your strong suit…” “You’re so mean Daddy!” “Okay, okay. I’m sorry. I’ll tell you what. You go out and do whatever makes you happy and no matter what you grow up to be, Daddy will be right there cheering for you.”

Cheryl brought her sketchbook with her on their trip. He remembered her clutching it to her chest as she slept in the passenger’s seat. This was his daughter’s most cherished possession, so why would he find it torn to pieces in a place like this? What’s that…? Harry frowned and picked up one of the scattered sheets. Instead of a drawing, this page was filled with two large words: “TO SCHOOL”. It was definitely in Cheryl’s handwriting. But why? He pulled out the tourist brochure and flipped to the map. Just outside of the residential area was a large building labeled “Midwich Elementary”. She must be there! Harry was absolutely convinced. Cheryl left this message behind for him. He had the sudden terrifying vision of his daughter being grabbed by a stranger and screaming for daddy to come save her. That combined with the knowledge of all the hideous crimes in his mind was enough to make him feel light-headed. Spurred on by impatience and rage strong enough to make him forget his aching feet and burning lungs, Harry sprinted with all the speed he could muster toward his new destination. -4- No one here either…Cybil had searched all across town and back, but in the end the result was always the same. She’d never seen a place so utterly empty before. The streets were silent, the homes were vacant, even the fog seemed to hang motionless in the air. The more she saw, the more dire the situation became. As she hiked north up Bachman Road, she saw a destroyed segment of guardrail that led to a ditch on the side of the highway. Harry’s jeep sat at the bottom of the ditch, just as he had said. It wasn’t that she didn’t believe his story, but the sight of the vehicle lifted a weight off her shoulders. It was something tangible and real. It was proof that she wasn’t the only living human wandering these streets.

Cybil soon came to a halt. The road in front of her simply stopped; crumbling down into what appeared in the fog to be a bottomless pit. It would be suicidal to try to reach the road to Brahms from across this chasm. After another hour of walking across town, Cybil found to her disbelief that the road out of Silent Hill to the west, Finney Street, had collapsed as well. Could there have been an explosion cause by a faulty gas line? Hard as it was to swallow, it was possible that it was just a very inconvenient accident. But as she trekked across town in a stunned daze, it became clear that this was no coincidence. Every single road leading out of the city had been similarly destroyed, leaving an impassable pit in its place. Not only did Cybil feel the act was deliberate, she got an overwhelming sense of malice at the sight. Who could have done possibly done this? It was something so impossible; she might have looked at it as an act of God. Or perhaps, the devil. At the very least, this was the work of human hands with a very sinister purpose. The fog swirled in the pit, like smoke from a cauldron. It made it look more like an endless abyss than a collapsed road. Cybil could easily imagine that some sort of vile creatures could crawl up out of there at ay second. Every route to freedom was sealed. The dense, grey canopy of fog still hung heavy over the town, acting almost as a magic barrier trapping them all inside. -- Harry was huddled underneath the front porch stairs of a house facing Levin Street. White noise crackled from the radio in his pocket, steadily growing louder. Above him, large wing flaps echoed across the empty street and a blurry black shadow cut through the sheet of fog. It would hover off into the distance, then slowly return again. It was looking for him. He still had the handgun, but thanks to his panic during the last encounter it was now empty and useless. The only other weapon he had was a thin steel water pipe he picked up on his way back out of the alley, but it was so brittle that he might just have a better chance making a run for it. And how badly he wanted to run. His impatience and desperate need to see his daughter safe far outweighed his fear, but he forced himself to wait. He had tried to reach the school by Finny Street and Matheson Street, but both roads seemed to have caved in, making it impossible to continue. He had attempted to bypass the road by breaking into any number of the houses that lined the street, but every last door and window was locked and stood firm against any blows from his steel pipe. He should be glad the homes were so well protected, but right now it was only making his mission more difficult. It almost felt like someone went out of their way to make sure Harry couldn’t reach the school…

It was when he reached the Matheson Street chasm, right as he was beginning to lose hope, when something caught his eye. At the edge of the pit atop a pile of crumbled concrete, he found another message from Cheryl. Like the first note, it was scrawled in big letters over two sketchbook pages. The first read “DOG HOUSE,” the second read “LEVIN ST”. He remembered seeing a dog house in front of one of the houses on the street. That had to be the way. If he could just smash his way into that house, he could jump the fence in the back yard and make a run for the school. It never occurred to him what an amazing coincidence it was to find that note where he did. The suspicion that finding a note written by his daughter telling him exactly where to go at exactly the moment he needed it might be too good to be true never even crossed his mind. His thoughts were only on Cheryl, his precious little girl. She’s out there now, alone and afraid… I have to go now! Harry inched out from under the porch stairs, holding his breath in anticipation. It was right there. The dog house was in his sights, sitting tantalizingly out of reach. He sat motionless, waiting for the flying monster to move away again so he could make a run for it. His legs itched with the desire to run, to carry his as fast as possible to that house. To Cheryl. Another sound reached his ears. A faint tapping along with the sound of wet meat slapping against the asphalt. A dog, just as gruesome and deformed as the one that attacked him on the way to the alley, was wandering down the street. Harry clenched the steel pipe tighter in his sweaty hands. If the dog spotted him, not only would he be forced to fight it but that would inevitably draw the bird’s attention. He doubted his odds against one of the monsters, let alone both of them. Icy beads of sweat slid down Harry’s forehead. Now or never. He locked his sights on the yard with the doghouse and dashed from his hiding place. He couldn’t hear the sound of wings and he was running in the opposite direction the dog was traveling. For one glorious second, Harry thought he was in the clear. Then he heard barks from behind him. They were quickly followed by claws scraping the pavement and rapidly closing in. Harry pushed himself even harder, desperately sprinting the last few yards to the front door. He stumbled over the first few porch steps, but regained his footing and made it to the front entrance. He’d done it. He’d outrun the hellhound as was now only a few precious seconds from safety. At least, he would have been had the door not been firmly and heartlessly locked. “Come on…” Harry begged the doorknob as he tried fruitlessly to force his way inside. He slammed his fist against the side of the house and yelled for help, but he was rewarded only with silence. The blood drained from his face. Inches away from sanctuary, yet trapped in the path of a vicious monster. Harry pressed his back against the cold wooden door and held the steel pipe in front of him. He was, at that moment, prepared to fight to his grave. Although, once that dog got ahold of him he wasn’t sure how much of him would be left to fill a grave. The starving beast leapt at him, its black eyes burring with feral rage and its jaws dripping with drool. A gust of wind tore across the patio, forcing Harry to cover his face. When he opened his eyes, the dog was gone. A piercing cry, like nails scraping against glass, ripped through the air. The familiar sound of wings mixed with yelps of pain and more horrid screeching. The monstrous bird had captured its prey.

Harry could hardly believe his eyes. The monsters were cannibalizing each other! The terror of imminent death gave way to overwhelming relief that drained his strength and sent him to his knees. It was all too much. The suffocating shroud of fog, his fear for his only daughter, the ever-looming threat of death at the hands of creatures that defied rational explanation…it was beginning to make him feel light-headed. Snap out of it! You can’t lose it now. You’re her father, if you don’t save Cheryl, no one else will! Harry breathed in deeply and pulled himself to his feet. He shakily made his way back down the steps. The dog house. That’s what it said on the sketchbook page. That was his last hope. The small hut was empty; half of a broken chain was all that remained of the watchdog lived inside. A gleaming key was taped to the back wall. The house owners must have put it here for their dog to guard. How Cheryl knew this was here Harry had no clue, but he was grateful she did. The key opened the door without issue and once inside, Harry locked the door and breathed a long sigh of relief. This house, like the rest of the town, seemed to be abandoned. Despite the desperate situation, there was still an unsettling feeling that came with trespassing in a stranger’s house. Like someone could jump out at you at any moment… Only one thing grew stronger than his unease: the emptiness in his stomach. He passed through the living room and dining room into the kitchen and straight to the refrigerator. The food inside looked good enough. He grabbed a can of beer and finished it off in a matter of seconds. He popped open another can and drank between handfuls of ham and cheese. He hadn’t eaten anything since noon. The plan had been to take Cheryl to a nice French restaurant by the lake for a special dinner. He heard great things about the salmon meuniere, and Cheryl had always wanted to eat at a fancy place like that. Harry never thought he’d be alone and scavenging food from a stranger’s kitchen. The alcohol had done its work to calm his frayed nerves and the food had filled him and restored some of his vigor. Much as he would have loved to stay and rest even longer, there was still work to be done before he could depart. Harry began to search the empty home for anything that could be of use. Ideally he wanted something that could replace his empty pistol as a suitable weapon. As he dug through closets and drawers, he prayed the former residents weren’t pro-gun control. His prayer was answered when he found a nine millimeter handgun much like his own stuffed in the bedroom nightstand. Unfortunately, it came with little spare ammo; the magazine contained twelve bullets and the cartage box, only seven. It wasn’t much, but he’d much rather have this than rely on the steel pipe. He discarded the empty gun and put the extra rounds in his pocket. He was also lucky enough to happen upon a small emergency flashlight. It would be invaluable once night fell. Having collected everything of use, Harry made his way to the back door. He wasn’t prepared for what he found on the other side: a wall of pitch-black darkness. It was mid-afternoon when he entered the house, and he’d only been inside a half hour at the most. Whatever was causing the bizarre events was not content with just manipulating the weather, now it was altering the flow of time. None of that mattered though. He’d walk out into a hurricane if it meant holding Cheryl safe in his arms again. Even if the world ended and God and the devil clashed in these very streets, he’d endure it all for her. Relying on nothing but a dim flashlight and a faint hope, Harry charged into the town dyed black with darkness. -- “So night has fallen already…” Dahlia Gillespie whispered and she gazed out over the town from the church steeple.

“Darkness spills over the earth…like black tears from heaven…” A bitterly cold night breeze disturbed the black fog and tugged at the veil on her head. The snow white veil was the sign that marked her as a humble servant of The Lord. Though faithful as she had been to her God after so many long years, the road had not been easy. Through those seven years of hardships and humiliation, her devotion never wavered. Now she would be rewarded for her tireless efforts. The world would enter a shining new age, the people would bow before their new God, and she too would receive honor and glory beyond imagination. “To those who look down on you with contempt

To those who hold not the same glowing light in their hearts

May you, Oh Lord

With judgment swift and fair

Cast them into the hungry mouth of Hell

To suffer their eternal punishment” A wrinkled smile rose to Dahlia’s lips as she intoned her prayer. Anxious as she was for the hour during which her words would come true, there was one last piece that had yet to fall into place: The Holy Mother. The blessed vessel by which God could be brought into the world. Without Her, the ritual would be impossible. “Where are you my dear? Won’t you come out soon?” Dahlia glared through the darkness. If it was a game of hide-and-seek the girl wished, then hide-and-seek she would have to play. Though he’d been forced to spend another four precious bullets on a dog on the way, Harry somehow managed to make it to Midwich Elementary in one piece. He burst open the front doors, inching into the lobby with a flashlight in one hand and a readied pistol in the other. He heard nothing in the darkened building but the soft shaking of his own hands. No signs of any monsters for now. Those heavy wooden doors seemed more than sturdy enough to keep the dogs from breaking in. “Cheryl?” He yelled into the darkness. His echoed voice was the only reply. “Cheryl, where are you?” He began a thorough search of the school building, starting from the first floor and the basement, all the way up to the second floor and the roof. He made note of each room as he checked it, the classrooms, staff rooms, chemistry lab, music room, nurse’s office, library, and the courtyard. Harry even went so far as to check the bathrooms and individual lockers. Maybe she was silently huddled in some dark corner, hiding from whoever might have brought her here. Or maybe she’d already been caught. She could be just beyond his reach, all of her frantic cried for her father silenced by a gag in her mouth. The mere thought of some criminal laying their filthy hands of his daughter was enough to make Harry’s stomach turn. Each empty room, each silent hallway intensified these dismal visions until Harry found himself choking back tears of helpless frustration. Come on, pull yourself together! He scolded himself. Cheryl is alive. She is safe. And you’re going to find her. If his search had turned up nothing, he’d just start over again. He’d scour this desolate place as many times as it took if it meant finding even the smallest clue. Harry was certain he had to have overlooked something. But nothing like this. He stood transfixed, back in the entrance lobby. The reception desk was drenched in red. Warm, wet blood was splattered across the desk as well as the wall behind it. He had stood right here not ten minutes ago. He checked that office top to bottom. What sort of massacre could have happened in that time? Head pounding, Harry burst into the reception office. He didn’t find the bloodied body of a young girl, or any other bodies for that matter. Just more vivid splashes of fresh blood. Sheer relief stole the air from Harry’s lungs and he slumped over the desk for support. There were several documents spread across the desk, lists of visitors to the school and student emergency contact information. The papers were useless now, too soggy and blood-splattered to be read. Harry squinted leaning a little closer. Some of those splatters were not as random as he first thought. Smears of red overlapped the black ink on the pages, curving into words that spelled a cryptic poem. 5:00

Darkness that brings

the choking heat Flames render the silence,

awakening the hungry beast.

Open time's door to beckon prey It was nothing a seven year old child could have written but…at the same time, Harry could sense intent beneath those cryptic words. He knew they could have only been left for him by Cheryl. The idea was far beyond any logical thought. Then again, he’d experienced so many impossible things already. Believing this seemed almost easy. Harry placed a hand onto the stained pages, scanning each word carefully. “Open time’s door…” He recalled seeing what looked to be a clock tower out in the courtyard in the center of the school. It was a tall structure of concrete blocks pushed right up against the walls of the school. While it wasn’t too large around, it seemed big enough to hide a person inside. Especially a small person. Harry had examined it before, but quickly gave up after finding no way inside. Now it seemed to be the best lead he had. Harry stood before the imposing tower once more. The worn clock face sat at a motionless 5 o’clock. Maybe if he could get some power to it again, it hidden door would open. Let’s see…”Darkness that brings the choking heat…” There was a boiler room in the basement of the building. The boiler itself was quiet, but if he turned it back on, perhaps that could be the “flames” that would “render the silence.” That would make the boiler itself the “hungry beast” that could “open times door.” Harry raced down the stairs, bursting into the boiler room with the guidance of his flashlight. A hulking metallic machine cast its shadow over the dark room, looming like a monster waiting to be fed. With the flip of a switch on a small control panel, the room was suddenly bathed in red light. The boiler gave a long groan before roaring to life in a near deafening rumble of burning gasoline. Harry didn’t even bother covering his ears; he was out the door the second it started moving. He ran in a single-minded sprint through the building, pausing only when the floor beneath him rang from a deep and echoing chime. It sounded one, two, three, four more times. Five o’clock. Sure enough, a small door in the side of the clock tower was sitting wide open, almost congratulating him for discovering its secret. The entrance was just large enough for him to crouch inside. The interior was cold and about as roomy as a phone booth, with nothing but a ladder on the floor, leading down into stagnant darkness. Harry didn’t even have to think twice as he began his descent. The ladder led down into a cramped corridor, which in turn let to another ladder leading up into an opening lit by hazy light. “What the…?” Harry emerged from passage to find himself…right back where he started: the same courtyard with the same buildings, the same clock tower looming behind him, and the same fog shrouding the darkened sky. Everything, down to the worn bricks under his feet, was identical to where he had stood just moments earlier. It was hard to tell in the darkness, but he must have traveled some distance underground, at least a couple yards. Either he’d found a secret passage leading to a suspiciously well-crafted replica of Midwich Elementary or he was going crazy. The radio in his pocket crackled into a burst of static. Harry spun around, shining the weak beam of his flashlight through the fog. Slap…slap…slap… Uneven footsteps echoed through the courtyard. A dark figure emerged from the shadows, drawing closer by the second. Harry recognized nauseating stench immediately. It was the same creature that attacked him back in the alley. It was almost child-like in its stature and sluggish gait, but the closer it came, the less human it appeared. Its head wasn’t much of a head at all, just a neckless protrusion jutting out of its torso. Thick arms spouted from its sides, ending in a set of vicious claws that scraped the pavement as it lumbered forward. There were no traces of a nose or eyes, only a thin mouth stretching vertically across its ‘face’ that harbored a set of uneven, pointed teeth. It opened and closed its mouth as it walked, appearing almost as if it were mumbling something. Or perhaps it was so anxious to take a bite out of Harry that it was just gnashing its teeth in anticipation. Harry’s hands were shaking as he reached for the pistol in his belt. He’d faced monsters before but…this thing was no half-rotted dog. This thing was a broken, shambling imitation of a human being, a child even. A single gunshot rang out. The monster staggered backwards, a gaping hole spewing blood from its chest. It didn’t stop, too single minded in its feral hunting to feel pain. It continued advancing, saber-like claws rubbing together, itching to sink into their prey. The sight, the stench, the incessant grinding of teeth; it was too much for Harry to bear. This thing…this monster couldn’t possibly exist within his carefully constructed view of reality. He didn’t realize he was screaming, not with his ears ringing with the sound of gunshots. His eyes were squeezed shut, blocking out everything but the kick of the gun in his hands. Finally, after an eternity of deafening noise, the magazine went empty and everything fell silent. The thing was on the ground, convulsing in a pool of its own blood. The sight should have brought Harry some measure of relief, but it only sent more disgust welling within him. He reached up to wipe off his face, only for his jacket sleeve to return covered in the creature’s blood as well. This…thing’s existence was so wholly contrary to everything he’d ever heard about a kind and benevolent God. What kind of sick God could create something so unholy? Harry was hardly a religious man, but he couldn’t help but think that the wretched creature could have only come from the devil himself. The place Harry now found himself both was and wasn’t the Midwich Elementary he’d been standing in just a few minutes earlier. The air was heavy, carrying a chill that that had him pulling his jacket on tighter. Hit flashlight, even with a fresh set of batteries, did little to cut through the pervasive gloom. It was like he’d wandered through a portal to another dimension… What he found in the middle of the courtyard only seemed to confirm that idea. Beneath Harry’s feet was an intricately drawn magic circle of some kind. He’d heard of such things being used like a barrier to protect against evil…or perhaps as a door to summon demons and other dark spirits from the depths of hell. His eyes wandered over to the fallen creature. It had continued twitching for a while but had long since fell silent. Could that thing have been summoned from here? Was it some sort of demon after all? What about the deformed birds and dogs roaming the town? Could Silent Hill really be cursed? Harry felt dizzy. His head was pounding from its very core, far worse than anything he’d ever experienced. The truth was as real as the blood that stained his clothes, but it was simply too much for him to take. Harry wanted to throw everything away, to give up and run from this forsaken town as fast as his feet could carry him. He desperately willed himself to wake up from this nightmare, but he was as far from the comfort of his bed as he could possibly be. There will be time rest once Cheryl’s safe…This thought was the only thing that willed his weary body forward. -6- The rest of the school was as unrecognizable as the courtyard. The classrooms were in complete disarray; desks had been flipped and scattered about the room as if there’d been a natural disaster. Just as Harry had finished searching the staff room and was about to leave, the sudden ringing of one of the office phones stopped him in his tracks. He couldn’t think of a single good reason not to, so he picked up the receiver.

“Daddy…” Harry froze at the sound of that beloved voice.



“Help me!” “Cheryl!” “Daddy…where are you…?” “I’m here! I’m right here! Cheryl, where are you?”



In a second, her voice was cut off. The line was dead. Harry stood paralyzed, the receiver still clutched in his hand. His heart pounded as frenzied thoughts rushed through his mind. Chery was begging for help. She was in trouble. She sounded on the verge of tears… These monsters…the magic circle…Could his daughter be a victim of some cult? Was she kidnapped as a sacrifice for some black ritual? His chest felt like it could burst. That call offered no clues to Cheryl’s whereabouts, but the fact that a phone rang here had to mean something. This school had to be connected to it all. There was no choice but to keep searching.



--

Leonard Rhine

The Monster Lurks Those were the words on the wall in the men’s bathroom, hastily scrawled in dark red blood. Beside the inscription was a suspended corpse, crucified just like the body Harry found in the alley. The only thing that disturbed him more than the gruesome sight, was the inescapable feeling that he’d heard that name somewhere before. Leonard Rhine was an old author, one who focused on the occult and other supernatural matters. Most people with any respect for reason and rationality turned their noses up at his work. Though he’d admittedly been one of those people, Harry had read one of his books in the past. He couldn’t remember any of the specifics, it’d been so long ago, but it gave him an idea. Harry made his way to the library. It might have been a stretch to expect to find any of Rhine’s books in a school library - his work was a bit obtuse for grade schoolers – but the clue was worth investigating. He had no doubt it was something Cheryl meant for him to see. His nearly-empty gun clutched in his hands, Harry cautiously poked his head around the hallway corner. There were more clawed creatures wandering through the school He’d heard their slapping footsteps accompanied by a whisper of static more than once, but he always managed to slip by them unnoticed. The school’s library was in surprisingly good shape considering the state of the other rooms in the building. Although there were many books scattered across the floor, the majority of them were still sitting untouched on the shelves. As his eyes scanned the floor, the cover of one book caught Harry’s eye. A wave of nostalgia compelled him to pick it up. He knew this book; it was full of stories and fairy tales he used to read at Cheryl’s bedside to lull her to sleep. He flipped the book open to a story titled “The Lizard and the Hunter.”

…Hearing this, the hunter, armed with bow

and arrow, said: 'I will kill the Lizard.'

But upon meeting his opponent, he held back,

taunting: 'Who's afraid of a reptile?'. At

this, the furious Lizard hissed: 'I'll

swallow you in a single bite!'. Then,

the huge creature attacked, jaws open

wide. This was what the man wanted.

Calmly drawing his bow, he shot into the

Lizard's gaping mouth. Effortlessly the

arrow flew, piercing the defenseless maw.

And the Lizard fell down dead. Respectfully wiping some of the dust from the cover, Harry set the book back on one of the shelves. Only then did he notice that on that shelf full of brightly colored picture books, on book in particular stood out. It was thick, heavy, and dark colored with no words on the spine and no pictures on the cover. Harry flipped open the first page to see the words “The Monster Lurks, by Leonard Rhine” printed in bold letters. He began scanning through the pages. Chapter 3: Manifestation of Delusions …Poltergeists are among these. Negative

emotions like fear, worry or stress

manifest into external energy with

physical effects. Nightmares have, in

some cases, been shown to trigger them.

However, one such phenomenon doesn't

appear to happen to just anyone. Although

it's not clear why, adolescents, especially

girls, are prone to such occurrences. Harry slammed the book shut. The words written on those pages brought unpleasant memories to his mind. Memories of Cheryl- “Cheryl, can you please be quiet? Daddy’s trying to work.” “Sorry Dad.” “Who’s that you were playing with? Some of the neighbor kids?” “It’s the boogeyman.” “Oh my! So you’re telling me the ghost from under your bed crawled out in the middle of the day?” “Can you please tell him not to come back?” “Ah, you’re such a cute girl that you’re even popular with ghosts huh?” “He wants to take me somewhere. He wants us to go together.” “That sounds serious.” “When I don’t listen to what he says, he scratches me with his claws.” “Really now? Let me take a look…” The welt he saw scraped across his daughter’s chest was still burned into his eyes. Thick, red lines cut through her delicate skin, looking almost like a sequence of letters. Since that day, accidents began occurring in their home. Sometimes Harry would hear a strange commotion in the kitchen, only to find that every cabinet had been flung open and the floor was littered with bowls and plates. Sometimes days or even weeks would pass by with no activity at all. Still, it was enough to turn Harry, a vehement non-believer in the supernatural, to researching occult literature. Maybe that message wasn't just to get him to read Leonard Rhine’s book. There had to be a connection between what happened that day at their home and Cheryl’s disappearance now. It had to be…a curse. That was the first word that entered his mind, but Harry quickly shook it off. What could an innocent, seven-year-old girl do to earn such resentment from someone? Cheryl grew up blessed with undying love from Harry and his late wife Jodie. Though she had no blood tied to her parents, Cheryl still grew to become a honest and gentle girl, even sharing Jodie’s kind smile. But… The reality of the world weighed heavily on Harry’s mind. The world was not as kind and just as he would have wished for his daughter. Children were tricked into believing that honest and good people are always rewarded and that evil people will be punished. The reality was that corruption was rampant and that evil people far outnumbered the good. Jodie, an innocent woman, was run down and had her life stolen from her, while the criminal driving that car got out without so much as a scratch and now spent his days idling away in prison. Adults corrupt the earth with their selfishness and insatiable desires, giving no care to the blameless children who must pay the price… Wandering in this depressed mood, Harry found that he’d unknowingly made his way back to the basement. Perhaps this dark, decrepit place was where he expected lowlife criminals to hide. Or where they might hide their victims. Stepping into the boiler room again, Harry happened upon a door that he didn’t remember seeing before. It sat in the darkness like a gaping mouth, inviting him to step inside. Mysterious flames flickered before Harry’s eyes, bringing to mind the tortuous fires of hell. If a deranged Satanist was to choose a place to make their hideout, this was as likely a place as any. Then again, it’d also be a delightful place to set a trap. And if it is, I guess I just waltzed right into it…But this is where he intended to turn the tables. He’d find the sick freaks responsible for all this, blow a hole in their heads, step over their corpses, and find Cheryl at any cost. A stiff smile rose to Harry’s face. Okay, he might be overdoing it just a bit. It was pretty hard to imagine himself, an out-of-shape author from the suburbs, as some kind of gun-toting tough guy out of an action movie. In the center of the room was a hole which held a recessed altar. Fire licked at the surface, crackling and warping Harry’s vision until he could swear he saw a vision in the flames. Cheryl? He saw the figure of a girl tied to a chair. The cruel phantom flickered until it faded completely. The fear that rose in his heart was matched only by the blistering rage that grew hotter than the fire before him. His face twisted into an enraged scowl as he clutched the pistol tighter. “Come out, you cowards! Give me back my daughter!” In answer to his command, a black shape formed behind the flame. But it wasn’t his daughter’s kidnapper; it wasn’t even human. No doubt it’d been sent to finish Harry off. It was a lumbering creature, huge enough to put all the other monster’s he’d encountered to shame. All of his bravado and savior fantasies melted away in an instant, fear quickly extinguishing his anger. Harry inched backwards until his back it the cold metal of the door. It was shut tight. He was trapped. The monster slowly made its way around the fire, the lights showing it’s true form: a reptile to dwarf all other reptiles. It looked as if it’d never seen a ray of light in its entire life; the creature’s skin was pale and translucent, glistening with a slimy layer of mucus. The place where its eyes should have been was merely an empty socket, a black, emotionless hole. It’s bulky, crocodile-like legs were barely large enough to support its massive body. Fortunately for Harry, it meant that the lizard’s progress was slow as it sluggishly dragged itself closer. Harry ran from the door, circling around the flames to the other side of the room. Even though he felt like his feet might fail him at any moment, they still moved him faster than the lumbering creature. But he couldn’t keep this up forever. He could run and run all he wanted, but eventually his strength would give out and he’d find himself cornered… “Get away!” Harry gathered what little courage he had left before turning to face the approaching monster. Fixing his aim on the lizard, he fired. Two gunshots rang through the cramped room. Though Harry was certain he must have hit it, the monstrous lizard shrugged off the bullets without so much as wince. In an instant, the space in front of him turned pitch black. Harry stared dumbfounded as he realized that he was staring directly into the lizard’s gaping maw. His amazement temporarily outweighed his fear; the creature’s head had completely split vertically in two, all the way down to its neck. Its mouth was easily big enough to swallow him whole, lined with sharp, jagged teeth. Its breath was putrid, like rotting garbage, making Harry’s eyes sting. To die by being crushed between those jaws and smothered by that revolting scent was surely the worst death he could imagine. Harry desperately scrambled backwards, putting distance between himself and the lizard’s gaping mouth. Killing this thing wouldn’t be easy; two bullets hardly did anything and he doubted that a hundred more could even injure it. Then again…he only had five rounds left. A feeling of hopelessness washed over him; Harry could almost feel the blood draining from his face. Calm down. I just have to calm down…Harry thought. It had to have some sort of weakness. How could one kill such a massive beast? I will kill the lizard. The words from the fairy tale surfaced in his mind. Of course, that would make him the hunter, armed with a pistol rather than a bow. Harry smiled, he almost could have cried. But upon meeting his opponent, he held back,

taunting: 'Who's afraid of a reptile?'. Well, Harry was. He was more afraid now than he’d ever been in his life. The furious Lizard hissed: 'I'll

swallow you in a single bite!'. Harry inched closer to monster’s open mouth, its rotten breath bringing hot, stinging tears to his eyes. The huge creature attacked, jaws open

wide. This was what the man wanted. Harry pulled the trigger again and again, sending all five bullets into the back of the lizard’s throat and straight though its body. It let out an ear-piercing cry, recoiling back before collapsing to the ground with a heavy thud. In an instant, Harry’s legs went weak and he too fell to the floor, still holding the gun stiffly in front of him. He was convinced that the lizard would get back to its feet at any moment and he’d be completely at its mercy. But it didn’t move. As relief slowly replaced his adrenaline and Harry was able to focus on things other than his imminent death, he realized that someone else was in the room with him. The figure of a young girl stood over him, watching him intently. Harry stared at the girl; the girl stared back at Harry. She wasn’t Cheryl. So who could she be…? --- Before he realized it, Harry had returned to the boiler room. There was no trace of the door that led to the burning room. The monster, the girl, everything was just gone. In fact, everything was just as it had been before he traveled through the mysterious clock tower. He was just standing in an ordinary boiler room in an ordinary school. Harry could hear a bell sounding in the distance. The darkness that has so suddenly fallen was gone, even though hardly enough time had passed for it to be dawn already. Even with the thick fog, being out in the open again felt refreshing. Harry stood on the school’s front steps as he examined his map. The bells sounded like church bells, but he had no clue who could be ringing them. Perhaps it was someone trying to gather the survivors? Maybe such a person would know what was going on here. Scanning over the homes and businesses, Harry’s finger fell on a likely location: The Balkan Church. Bradbury Street was collapsed, so Harry would have to take the long way around through Bachman Road. Remembering that his gun was empty, Harry kept an eye out for any place that looked like it sold guns or ammo. He moved quickly and carefully, keeping to the shadows as not to attract any attention from the monsters still roaming the streets. Though it seemed to take forever, the church wasn’t as far as he first thought. Before long, the church’s gothic architecture emerged from the fog. If Harry recalled, about 25% of Maine’s population identified as Catholic. By the looks of it, many of Silent Hill’s residents seemed to belong to that number. The first thing that caught his eye when he entered was a large crucifix hanging behind the altar, casting a somber atmosphere over the room. The pews were all empty; no believers came to worship today. Looks like Harry was the only one the bell had summoned. A woman stood before the altar. Harry approached her, his footsteps echoing across the vaulted ceiling. She certainly wasn’t his young daughter; even from under her pure-white veil, he could see her hair was losing its luster. Her face was gnarled, like an aged tree, and her manner of dress was modest and plain. Despite her harmless appearance, something about her seemed off. Harry couldn’t help that wonder if she was actually much younger than she looked. “Were you the one ringing the bell?” Harry asked. “I have been waiting for you.” The woman gave him a smile that creased the wrinkles on her cheeks. “I knew you would arrive; it was foretold by the Lord.” “Who are you? What’s going on in this town; where did everyone go?” “The hour of judgement is at hand. The battle between good and evil has already begun.” The wide smile never left her face as she spoke, as if she was intoxicated with mirth. She didn’t seem to be all there. Harry frowned. Maybe whatever had happened to this town was too much for her and she just snapped. Then again, maybe she was this way from the start. But…though her words seemed insane, the look in her eyes was perfectly lucid, shining with a hint of slyness. “You are still searching for that girl, are you not?” “Girl? You mean Cheryl!?” Harry raised his voice. It was as if there mere mention of Cheryl’s name was a spell that could erase his reason, driving everything from his mind but thoughts of saving her. Even if the one casting the spell was some fanatic, his desperation was too strong for him to resist. “Where is she!?” The woman shook her head sadly. “Unfortunately, the child has been captured by those who wish evil upon us. I’m afraid she is to be a sacrifice.” “What are you talking about!?” Harry stepped closer to the woman, reaching out to grab her, to demand answers. “Do not touch me!” The woman cried out in a booming voice. She smiled again, but there was a shade of disgust hidden beneath it. “My body has been sanctified as that of a true servant of God by a vow of chastity. This is how I receive His blessed revelations. Do you understand?” “Uh…yes?” Harry nodded slowly. “I am your ally. I desire the child’s safety as much as you do. Now listen well: There is nothing to be gained by floundering about at random. You must follow the path. The path of the Hermit, hidden within Flauros.” “…Flauros?” “It is the silence of purgatory. It can break through the walls of darkness and counteract the wrath of the underworld.” With that, the woman tossed something on the floor between them. “It will help you save your daughter from those with ill-intent. Now, make haste to the hospital before it is too late.” Harry crouched down to pick up the object on the floor. It looked a bit like a pyramid-shaped toy, but despite its size, it felt heavy in his hand. It made no sound when he shook it, but he couldn’t help but feel that there was something inside. “What am I supposed to do with this?” He asked. But when he lifted his head, the woman was gone, vanished like a wisp of smoke.