The Red

[William Hartsford]

With a gasp of breath and a sudden pain in his ribcage, William Hartsford woke with a start. He punched the air, the last memory he had was of a black figure reaching out for him with a gnarled hand. And then blackness. And so in blackness he awoke, his hazel eyes taking a few minutes to adjust to the heavy darkness of wherever he was lying. The air was thick in the room and, having sat up, his hands were firmly pressed against what felt like a very old, stiff, hard mattress and itchy sheets.

He was able to make out the edges of objects, his eye immediately drawn to a dirty hazy light peering through a window. Will held his breath for a moment, listening as his heartbeat slowed but was only greeted with heavy silence. Perhaps it was alright for him to move now. Immediately he searched for his pack, panicking inwardly as he realized it was no longer on his back. Quickly he pushed himself up from the bed which squeaked obnoxiously under his weight, his first instinct was the window. He pulled up the dusty shade, dislodging god knows how old dust. It took everything he had to repress the multitude of sneezes that tried to come out as the dust launched it's attack at his nose. When he thought he was fine, he glanced out the window, or attempted to as it was covered in a thick layer of...well some kind of grime.

William tore the cover off the bed and used it to wipe away the red-tinted grime, barely able to make out what looked like a main road and an apartment complex across the street. He was in a new town, definitely not LA, definitely not the train cab. But this place looked a decent size and should be bustling...why did everything seem so still and covered with a thick veil of fog? Wiping the porthole into the window allowed the light from outside to pierce the darkness and he made out the interior of the room, a ratty bed, disheveled bedside tables and lamps, a closet, two chairs, a small round table and a dresser with his pack on to...His pack! If he was a religious man, now would be the time he'd fall to his knees and praise the Lord. But he wasn't a religious man, in fact he was quite a rational and realistic man who immediately crossed the distance of the small room and snatched up his pack, and emptied the contents onto the bed.

Everything looked like it was in there still! This was good, which caused a sigh of relief to escape him as he finally decided to pull out a handheld flashlight. Switching it on, the beam immediately filled up the room and he could make out finer details, torn up wallpaper, dirty carpets and layers upon layers of dust coating every surface. He held the handle of the flashlight between his teeth as he sorted through his other gear, looking for a specific flashlight he had, one that he had that would go around his head. He didn't have a gun, just a combat knife and if he got himself into conflict, he'd like an extra hand free. Finding it and his favorite cap that had managed to survive whatever had happened to him earlier, he quickly placed both atop his head, the light secure and his hat keeping it in place. He switched off the other light, throwing it into his pocket, strapped his combat knife to his right thigh and threw everything back into his pack.

As he went to zip up his bag he stopped, hearing a series of banging going on out in the hall. Slowly and as quietly as he could, he closed his bag and pulled on his pack, cringing at another jab in his ribcage. He inched closer to his door, right hand ready to grab his knife, Will had no time to assess whatever damage that he sustained, he pressed himself against the wall by the door frame, pulling out his knife and quietly turning the knob of the door enough to where the door was barely ajar. Peering out he saw a light down the hall and shadows flailing about coupled with crashing and screaming. He pushed himself against the wall, knife at ready as whatever was going on was getting close to his room.

[Heather Mason]

The blackness, like staring into the endless abyss of a bottomless inkwell. It engulfed her, enveloping her in a blanket of bittersweet agony. Staring into the darkness was like living within her own reflection. She embodied the darkness. Made it real....

Heather Mason. The heroin? No. There was no heroin in this story. This Heather Mason was the birth of something far stronger than death, and much more powerful than fear. She carried the weight of an entire town on her shoulders.

Silent Hill.

It followed her everywhere. Dwelling in every thought. Lurking in every shadow. It was always there.... watching. Waiting. It needed no excuse and took whatever and whenever it pleased. Her worst nightmares made real.... ones she relived over and over again every second her eyes even so much as flinched....

Which was why her current situation didn't surprise her. Another night where sleep inevitably dragged her back in. Into the town of infinite possibilities... none of which are ever good.

Finding herself seated, back against a wall of some sort, Heather pulled her knees to her chest before wrapping her arms around her calves. Her face buried between her knees a moment before a deep sigh hotly escaped the small crack between her lips. Nostrils flared as her eyes raised only enough to attempt seeing something.... anything in front of her, but to no avail. The eerie silence mocked her, beckoning her to explore this hellish jungle in all it's grotesque glory. As much as she hated it, Heather knew she was, and would always be, somehow connected to this place. In some twisted way, it would always be a part of her, whether she'd escaped it or not.

That much was made apparent by the dream she currently found herself in, just like all those before it....... Only this time, something felt a bit.... strange about this dream in particular. Heather couldn't put her finger on it, but there was definitely something different about this one. The smells, the way the wall felt against the small of her back which rose just enough for her skin to graze what was behind her....

'It's only a dream, Heather. Soon, you'll wake up in your bed and life will go on just like it always does.'

With that, her palms pressed flatly against the wall as her legs pushed to slide her body upward. Once she was standing, she stepped forward carefully, hearing creaking below as her foot moved from heel to toe. It was so loud amidst the dead silence that filled the air, almost seeming to echo within her ears as another foot came forward only to be met with the same sound. Nothing like old creaky floorboards to get the blood flowin' in the morning.

And then, from under what looked like a door, off in the distance came the faint glow of light. Had she never been here before, Heather might have screamed, but she knew screaming did no good. Light, however, attracted things.... things better left lurking around in the darkness somewhere.

'.......Maybe I should go over there and make sure there's nobody inside.' and then she stopped herself. 'It's a dream, Heather. Get a clue.'

Still, there was that nagging feeling again that something was off about all of this. Another footstep started to move closer before Heather found herself falling, smashing into all sorts of things on the way down before finally landing in something hot, wet and sticky. It almost smelled like...

'...Oh my God.'

Light glowed dimly from a lamp with no shade across what she now made out as a room.... with no door. And that goop she'd landed in... yeah. It was blood. Of the nasty, death by monster variety. Not too far from where she lay was a corpse, and a fresh one at that. Torn half apart and appearing marred, half the flesh stripped away from it's body. It looked female, however could definitely be debated.

It wasn't until after she saw the corpse that she realized there was real, legitimate pain coming from her arm. Heather blinked once... and again, finally then touching an open wound from which her own blood was now oozing...

'No... no! There's no way. Just no fucking way. No.' So she touched it again, wincing after. A single tear rolled down her cheek, though not from the pain of her torn flesh, but from the realization that this.... right here, right now... this was no nightmare.

This.... was Silent Hill.

[William Hartsford]

Something heavy shuffled towards his room and with each thump, William slowed down his breathing until his heartbeat began to slow. He could see something dark nearing and when it reached the door to his room it stopped, peering through the crack right at William. In nature, it's suggested to never break eye contact with a wild creature, for some reason Will believed the same would hold true right now. He made out a beady little eye, staring at him and he held on until it shook it's head (?) slowly then lumbered off. It wasn't here for him. At least that's what William had told himself. If it was here for him, he'd probably be dead right now.

He waited a minute, catching his breath and calming himself down. As he moved to open the door and leave the room, he heard another crash which caused him to stop halfway. A shadow flickered in the light but something about this one sounded more...natural. Closing the door behind him, he looked down the portion of the hall the thing had gone down and all William could see was a thick darkness his light would barely penetrate. Deciding it best not to linger, William moved closer to the light, his knife still drawn as a precaution.

As he peered around the corner, he felt momentarily blinded by the intensity of the unshaded lamp. When his eyes adjusted, he quickly swept the area. A mangled corpse lay in pieces, it's gender or anything else for that matter impossible to discern. The wounds reflected the severity it's attacker had used. There was a brief turn in his stomach, but William had grown used to such sights as this. A thick, shining trail of blood led him to what had made the latest of noises. On the ground was a girl, or a short woman, irregardless, she was surrounded by blood, though unless she was some terrible, transforming succubus, Will doubted she was the cause of the bloody mess.

She touched something on her arm and he could make out quite a wound. Perhaps he should leave her here, she could prove to be good bait and distraction for whatever was lurking around. He figured another meeting with whatever was here wasn't for him but wouldn't allow him to live a second time. Especially if they were here for her. She looked sane and real enough, causing a glimpse of a memory from the train to trigger, the kid from it...what was his name? He didn't remember, but a temporary alliance had been made? Though where was he now? Dead probably.

The girl was a wild card, but right now, the good samaritan cord struck within him and he sheathed his knife and he carefully neared her, close enough to where they could communicate but far enough to where if he startled her she couldn't deck him in intimate places. He pulled off his pack and dropped it on the ground in front of him, just out of the blood's reach. He knelt down and unzipped his pack, pulling out the white case with the red cross and opened that as well. He pulled out a roll of gauze and held it out for her.

"Quickly cover that to stop the bleeding. We'll take better care of it when we aren't so exposed." His accent prevalent even in a whisper. He peered over his shoulder into the darkness before returning his attention back to the girl, "We can't afford to linger, lest we wind up like that poor sod over there."

[Heather Mason]

Looking up through the hole in the ceiling, she spotted a man looming over, watching her. Heather back-stepped slightly, realizing now that there was blood all over the place. Not that she should be surprised, however. This was Silent Hill after all. But.... why the hell was she back. Again...

The man above held out gauze to her, but Heather was leery at first. Her eyes slanted, brows narrowing as she simply watched him... almost studying him, really. Was he some figment created to throw her off? Or could this really be another real person.

"Just drop it down to me. I can take care of the rest."

She looked over to the bloodied heap of what used to be.... something living, then back to him. This things entire insides were smeared all over every inch of the room she now found herself in. And to top it off, this guy was speaking about it like he knew what the hell he was talking about.

"No... We're gonna end up like that sod over there if we don't get every one of these lights turned off."

Heather rose, wrapping the gauze around her arm and looking around the room for something she could use as a weapon. Nothing really stood out, other than a few small broken bottles, but those would only work at extremely close range... and that just wasn't an option. Getting too close could get you killed here.

"I don't know how long you've been here, dude... but the light? Yeah... the light attracts things. Things you don't wanna run into. Trust me."

Noticing a bloodstained bed sheet sitting not too far from where she stood, Heather grabbed for it, tossing it up to the man above her.

"Pull me up, would'ja? We gotta get the hell outta here before whatever ate that guy comes back for seconds."

Once it was securely held above, Heather did her best to try and climb, but with her arm in the shape it was, the outcome of her making it up was slim.

"Well, ain't no way I'm climbin' this thing now with my arm the way it is. But we gotta get the hell away from the light and out of this damned hotel."

Kneeling down, Heather grabbed the bottom of the sheet, tying a loop hole at the end before sliding one of her feet inside.

"Think you've got it in'ya to pull me up this way?"

If only there were a door in the room. She could just get out that way and the two could meet up somewhere. Moments later, she spotted something strange on the wall that she hadn't noticed before. It was writing... granted, in blood, but still writing.

"Hang on just a minute, I gotta check something out...."

"A little light can guide the way"

Heather scratched her head.

"Now what the hell does that mean...." She knew nothing in this place went without reason. This message meant something. She was just going to have to figure it out was all.... but how? The only light was that dim bulb within the lamp on the wall.... the very same wall where that bloodied mess was laying, and God knew she really didn't wanna go any closer to it than what was absolutely necessary. So, in turn, she looked up to her new 'friend' and read the message to him.

"So. You got any idea what it means?"