Silent Hill: Prologue

Silent Hill: Prologue

"Can we go, Daddy? Pleeeease? Pretty please, with sugar on top?"

Cheryl's small hands gripped mine with anticipation as she anxiously awaited my answer. And then came the puppy dog eyes and the pleading pout. Boy, that girl sure knew how to pull my strings. How could I say no to that face? If she already had me, a grown man, wrapped around her finger at only seven years old, I pitied the rest of the male population when she grew up. After initially being undecided, I finally agreed. "Oh, all right," I sighed, feigning surrender. "We'll go to Silent Hill for vacation."

Cheryl squealed with delight, happily bouncing up and down. She tackled me with a bear hug and planted a kiss on her old man's cheek. "You're the best daddy in the whole world!"

I chuckled. "Well, I try, sweetie."

And with that, giggling as only little girls can, she scampered off to her room, presumably to decide which of her fuzzy friends would come with her on our trip.

I was glad she was happy. That was more important than anything. Sure, our lives weren't the most exciting in the world. Cheryl went to school like any other little girl, and I earned a decent paycheck writing short stories for a monthly magazine, but we enjoyed ourselves from time to time. Cheryl and I played games, went to the park, had picnics and went to the movies every once in a while, but it almost seemed like we were just going through the motions sometimes. Or rather, like I was going through the motions. It was hard sometimes, with Kate gone. Damn that disease. As difficult as it was for me to come to grips with her death four years ago, having to explain to a three-year-old that the only mommy she ever knew wasn't coming back was torture. Slowly but surely, I managed to pick up the pieces of our lives, all thanks to Cheryl. That little girl was a godsend to us, and we to her. How somebody could even think of leaving a poor, defenseless baby on the side of the road is beyond me, but that's the way she entered our lives. Even though she wasn't ours, we always loved her like she was our own. If not for my love for Cheryl, I might've died right along with Kate. Since then, I couldn't help but wonder if I was doing a good enough job as a father. I certainly couldn't replace Cheryl's mother, but I always tried to do my best for her. One might've said that I indulged her a little too much, but what could I say? She was a daddy's girl. But I hoped that wherever my Kate was, she was proud. Of both of us.

As for the trip, I suppose we both needed a change of scenery that summer. I remembered a while back, Kate had somehow ended up with a tourist brochure for Silent Hill. She said it seemed like such a nice, quaint little resort town, with its mom-and-pop stores, its elegant hotel right next to the lake, and even an amusement park. She mentioned that she wanted us to take a family trip there one day. Then, her illness took a turn for the worse. We never got that chance. I hadn't thought about nor mentioned the town since. It seemed strange that Cheryl would remember Kate talking about that place after all this time, but I just figured that maybe a memory of her mother conjured it up. Whatever the case, the idea had grown on me. It seemed like Silent Hill would provide us with all the rest, relaxation and beautiful lakeside scenery we could ask for. I was looking forward to our trip.

* * *

We planned to make the best of our hours-long drive by getting an early start that weekend. We packed the cooler full of snacks, beverages and a few sandwiches (which Cheryl had insisted on making herself), loaded the jeep, and we were on our way. That road trip was the most fun I'd had in a long time. We chatted, sang songs, told stories and marveled aloud at the scenery. Later on, Cheryl was busy with her sketchbook in her lap and a fistful of crayons, happily drawing and coloring things we'd seen along the way. She even showed me a rather comical portrait of me that she'd drawn on the cover of her sketchbook. I told her I'd put her masterpieces up on the refrigerator when we got back home.

The trip had been going pretty smoothly, and then we blew a tire on a glass beer bottle some idiot must've thrown out of his window. So much for our perfect schedule. We eventually found a family-owned repair shop to replace the busted tire, but it took quite a while to get it fixed. The shop was awfully shorthanded and the on-duty mechanic kept trying to convince me to let him fix things that I knew weren't broken. A couple of hours had passed by the time Cheryl and I finally got back on the road.

After stopping for dinner, bathroom breaks and gas, it was dark when we got to the lonely mountainside road leading to Silent Hill. I usually didn't like driving at night, but that night felt different. More peaceful. Cheryl slept quietly beside me, hugging her sketchbook, a chorus of crickets chirped, and a cool wind breezed through the jeep, tinted with the scent of the lake. It was all very calming. I'd been driving along for a little while when my "moment" was interrupted by the sound of a revving motorcycle engine in the distance. I looked in the side mirror and saw a police motorcycle coming along at a decent clip. I self-consciously checked my speed, just in case. Luckily I wasn't in any danger of being ticketed, but cops always tend to make people just a little bit nervous.

No sirens, no lights. He's definitely not after me. Maybe he's just in a hurry to get home.

The cop expertly swerved into the passing lane and gradually pulled up beside the jeep.

My mistake - maybe she's just in a hurry to get home.

A few short tufts of blonde hair fluttered beneath her helmet as she slowly rode past my window. She casually looked over, acknowledged me with a nod and smiled. Pleasantly surprised, I smiled back. Then just as suddenly as she seemed to appear, she accelerated and sped past, quickly disappearing into the distance.

Well, I guess she was in a hurry. She seemed nice. Not bad looking, either...

I chided myself at that last thought. C'mon, Harry. Who're you kidding? You still haven't completely gotten over losing Kate...

The friendly exchange was pushed to the back of my mind as I tried to settle back into my "moment." Fortunately it wasn't too hard; the night was almost eerily calm. I didn't want to turn on the radio for fear of waking Cheryl up, so I retreated into my thoughts. I thought about the fun to be had on our vacation, about how amazing my little girl was and how fast she was growing up, and of course, about Kate. Times like this made me miss her even more. She would've loved this trip, just the three of us.

"Hi, Daddy," a small, sleepy voice mumbled. I looked over and Cheryl gave me a drowsy smile. "Are we there?"

"Almost. It shouldn't be too much longer now."

"Okay," Cheryl replied through an especially wide yawn.

"You can go back to sleep if you want. I'll wake you up when we get there."

She rubbed her eyes and shook her head. "Nah...I wanna stay up."

Despite her stubborn determination to stay awake, Cheryl ended up lightly dozing on and off. I began to settle into the quiet drive again, when I noticed something strange. The chorus of crickets that was so prevalent earlier had stopped chirping. Aside from the occasional breeze off the lake and the steady, vibrating hum of the jeep, it was completely silent. The temperature had also dropped. It wasn't drastically colder, but it certainly didn't feel like the mild summer night it had been not too long ago. I reached into the back seat and grabbed a small blanket to drape over Cheryl. It definitely seemed odd, but I just brushed it off as some weird, but natural, phenomenon.

Not five minutes later, I spotted something on the side of the road up ahead as I rounded the bend. When the headlights fell on it, I saw that it was a motorcycle. It was banged up pretty badly, lying in a crumpled heap on the shoulder as if its rider had spun out and crashed. Even more puzzling was that the rider was nowhere to be seen. Only as I was passing the bike did it occur to me that it looked familiar. As I glanced back, I realized it looked strikingly similar to the police motorcycle the female cop had been riding earlier that night. If the bike looked that bad, then there was a very good chance that the cop had been injured. But there was no blood or any other evidence that anyone had been hurt. Where was she?

I decided to keep an eye out for her in case she was on foot. If I spotted her, I'd at least be able to give her a ride or help her out somehow. Cheryl stirred beside me. I glanced at her and she opened her eyes again, gazing sleepily at the road ahead. I was about to speak to her when a look of startled alarm suddenly crossed her face.

"Daddy!"

I didn't see her until the jeep was almost upon her. All I could make out was that the girl was a young brunette - early teens, maybe - and that she was wearing a dark blue dress.

Going too fast-

Startled, then terrified, the girl threw her arms up in front of her face, shielding her eyes from the blinding lights and bracing for the impact. Cheryl's eyes went wide with panic as I yanked the steering wheel as hard as I could.

StoppleaseSTOP--

Horrified, I steeled myself for the sickening impact, but it never came. The jeep swerved violently as I tried to keep it from fishtailing. I jerked the steering wheel the other way but instead of straightening us out, we started to spin. The tires squealed deafeningly and the smell of burning rubber washed over us. Cheryl screamed. My head slammed into the steering wheel and instant, blinding pain radiated from above my left eye. A heavy, thundering crunch and the tinkle of breaking glass were the last things I heard before the spinning blackness engulfed me.