Silent Hill: Part 2 - Alive

Silent Hill: Part 2 - Alive

"NO!"

The scream burst out of me as I bolted up wide-eyed, sweating and scared. My blind panic began to diminish as I took in the quiet atmosphere and the cloud-filtered daylight spilling into the room. Then it dawned on me. The fact that any sound was coming out of me at all could have only meant one thing: I was alive. My head pounded and I felt like death warmed over, but I was alive. Dumbfounded, I slowly scanned the room I was in, some of the fear slipping away, only to be replaced by confusion. I was in a small restaurant - a café, really - and I'd been lying on a padded bench by a large front window. How I got there is anybody's guess.

I didn't die. I was not just stabbed to death by demon babies. I'm alive. But...how the hell did I end up here?

"Was I dreaming?" I mumbled under my breath.

Something stirred in my peripheral vision, in the far corner of the restaurant. My head snapped toward the direction of the movement--

--and I saw a female cop - the female cop - sauntering toward me from across the room. She was slightly taller than average and athletically built, with short blonde hair and bright blue eyes. She wore a crisp, blue, standard issue shirt and black leather riding pants with boots and gloves to match. She approached coolly, folding her arms across her chest as she walked, a half-suspicious smirk on her face. She finally sat down on a stool at the lunch counter and turned to face me. I sat all the way up and swung around to a more proper sitting position on the bench. Even though I knew I hadn't done anything wrong, I felt a little embarrassed under her authoritative gaze. She probably thought I was a drunk or a drug addict who stumbled in off the street and fell asleep in here. The fact that I was skittish and disoriented probably didn't help to dispel the notion. I leaned forward on my elbows, holding my now dully throbbing head in my hands.

"How do you feel?" she asked, a slight tone of concern in her voice.

"Ugh...Like I've been run over by a truck, but I'm all right, I guess."

"Glad to hear it," she said. There was a long pause. "Do you know where you are?" she asked, carefully.

Yup. She thinks I'm wasted.

"Yeah...I'm in a restaurant, in Silent Hill. Listen, I'm not a drunk or an addict, if that's what you think."

"Okay, okay," she said, holding her hands up in front of her. "Don't worry, I'm not here to bust you. What's your name?"

"Harry. Harry Mason."

She nodded cordially. "Cybil Bennett. I'm an officer from Brahms, the next town over. So, Harry...why don't you tell me what happened?"

I started to tell her everything, about all the horrible things I'd experienced since I arrived, but I quickly decided against it. Telling her that story would surely remove all doubt in her mind that I was either totally drunk or ridiculously high. Or even worse, completely insane. At the moment, I wasn't even sure I believed it myself. So, I kept my response vague. "Honestly, I don't know. I'm just a tourist, here for a vacation. I just got here..."

"Uh-huh. So you're not from around here, then."

I shook my head. "No. I'm not sure what's going on around here, but I'd like to find out myself." Her gaze softened a bit. She must have believed me. Then, I considered that she might be able to help me. "Hey, have you seen a little girl wandering around here? Just turned seven last month...short, black hair. She's my daughter."

She shook her head lightly, a look of sympathy in her eyes. "No, I haven't. Sorry. So far, the only person I've seen in this town is you."

"Oh," I muttered, more than a little disappointed, the knot of worry in my stomach tightening. I stared out at the eerily empty street. Snowflakes drifted lightly to the ground as the fog swirled gently in front of the window. I shook my head in disbelief at the entire situation. "Where is everybody?"

"I'd tell you if I knew, believe me. All I know is that by the looks of things, there's definitely something bizarre going on."

Hmph. Well if that isn't the understatement of the year...

"Apparently, all the phones are dead. The radios, too. I'm going to have to go back for reinforcements."

I nodded thoughtfully. If she was going all the way back to Brahms to get reinforcements, I certainly wasn't going to sit around and wait for the cavalry to return. I stood and walked to the door, determined to continue my search for Cheryl.

"Hold it! Where do you think you're going?" Cybil asked, a slight edge to her voice.

I turned to face her, slightly irritated. "My daughter - I have to find her!"

"I realize that, Harry, but it's dangerous out there--"

"That's why I need to find her now! She's my little girl - I can't just leave her out there all by herself!" I said, more harshly than I intended. I knew she was just doing her job, but there was no way she was going to stop me from leaving. What did she expect me to do?

She took note of my irritation and spoke more calmly. "You didn't let me finish. I was going to ask if you had a weapon. A gun, maybe?"

"Sorry," I said, slightly embarrassed by my outburst. "Uh, no. I'm unarmed."

Cybil sighed and looked away, as if trying to come to a decision. Then, she carefully unholstered her sidearm and held it out toward me, butt first. "Here, take it. With any luck, you won't have to use it." I looked at her, uncertain. She must have sensed that I was about to protest, so she cut me off before I could get a word out.

"I can take care of myself. They do teach us hand-to-hand at the academy, y'know," she said, a slight smirk playing across her lips. She extended her arm toward me even further, her expression insisting.

Persuaded, I took the gun from her. The cold, heavy metal in my hands was mildly reassuring, if a bit awkward. I had a little experience with guns, mainly because my older cousin was a bit of a gun nut, but that was many years ago. Judging from her patient tone, she must have picked up on my inexperience.

"Now listen, there are three rules when handling a gun. First, know who you're shooting. Second, don't shoot unless you have to. And third - and this is important - don't go blasting me by mistake. Got it?"

A half-smirk crept across my lips as I checked the clip and chambered a round. "Yeah, I got it. Thanks."

"Don't mention it. You'd do best to stay nearby. I'll be back with help as quick as I can," she said, strolling to the door. She looked over her shoulder, wished me luck, and then she was gone.

I was alone again. I sighed, looking down at Cybil's gun in my hand, wondering how I ended up in this mess. This was crazy. All I wanted was to take a nice vacation with my daughter, and now...

Wishing things were different won't change anything. Cheryl needs you, so get moving!

Right. Tucking the gun into the back of my pants, I decided to look around the restaurant for anything else I might be able to use during my search. I walked behind the cash register and looked under the counter.

Phone books...menus...cleaners - ah ha!

Sitting beneath a bottle of surface cleaner was a map of the town. Even better, there was a flashlight stashed quite a ways back on the same shelf. A quick check revealed that the flashlight's batteries were fresh. During a quick search of the countertop itself I turned up a large kitchen knife, half hidden by a menu. I figured I should take it along as a backup weapon, just in case. I also noticed that someone had left a can of vitamin-fortified juice on the counter, to which I eagerly helped myself; I was parched. Map in hand and noticeably refreshed, I slipped the flashlight into the breast pocket of my jacket to free up my hands as I walked to the door. Just as I grabbed the door handle, a loud hiss broke the silence in the café, startling me. I quickly scanned the room, hoping that there wasn't another strange creature ready to pounce on me, when my eyes fell on a small red object on a table near where I'd been sitting. As I crept closer to it, I was relieved to discover that the blaring, warbling hiss was static. The small red object on the table was an old-fashioned pocket radio. In my confusion, I hadn't noticed it at all before. All the same, I didn't think it had been on earlier; if it was, I hadn't heard a thing.

Heh...radio...

The radio hissed and squealed like crazy, the loud crackle of white noise mixed with a constant, hollow, metallic drone and the nerve-grating sound of audio feedback. I was going to leave the radio where it was, but then I decided to take it with me after all. Maybe a local radio station was broadcasting about what's going on around here. As I reached out to pick it up, a large window near the door imploded behind me, as if someone had run by and taken a bat to it. I spun around, searching, but didn't see anything--

--and a second later, the window right next to me imploded, shards of glass flying everywhere. I shrank back from the spray of glass, tripping over a chair leg and falling onto my side. As I fell, I heard a loud, unearthly shriek and something huge was swooping in through the broken window.

I quickly rolled over, scrambling to my feet and saw the impossible creature as it began to turn around in mid-flight, the beating of its wings blowing paper napkins around the room. It was so strange, my mind couldn't take it in all at once, my eyes feeding me information in pieces. At first glance, it strongly reminded me of an artist's rendition of a pterodactyl. It had an elongated head and enormous tattered, leathery wings, spanning as wide as I am tall. But as I continued to stare at it, I noticed some of the features were...wrong. The head wasn't reptilian or avian, but almost like that of an emaciated goat, with a mouth full of short, sharp-looking teeth. Its back end didn't match either, looking as if it belonged to a four-legged animal with paws instead of a winged one. And then, there was its skin. There were no scales, or feathers, or fur, or anything else one would expect to find covering any normal animal. Instead, an almost translucent sheath of spotty, discolored flesh was tightly stretched across its knobby frame, looking like it had been infected with severe case of mange.

Another shrill squawk erupted from its strange mouth as it dove toward me, shocking me out of my horrified stupor. I dodged to one side just barely in time to avoid getting my face bitten off, but not quite fast enough. It sailed past smelling of rot and its mouth clamped down on a small chunk of my hair, ripping it out. I gritted my teeth against the pain in my scalp, feeling a warm, wet trickle make its way through my hair.

Too close! Shoot it, stupid!

I frantically fumbled for the gun at my back, inwardly smacking myself for forgetting that I actually had a means of defense. The screaming creature was trying to turn around again as it bashed into the cash register, its wildly flapping wings knocking over stacks of dishes. I tried to steady myself as much as my nerves would allow, pointed the gun at the creature and pulled the trigger--

--and I heard a loud click instead of the earsplitting crack I'd steeled myself for.

Safety!

My shaky fingers flew to the gun's safety and flicked it off as I tried not to look up, afraid of seeing how close the creature was. When I did look up and readied myself to fire again, I didn't even have time to think about aiming. The creature - the Screamer, my mind called it - was only a few feet away, its mouth opening wide, intent on taking more than just a chunk of hair this time--

BAM! BAM! BAM!

The first shot went wide, but the next two hit their mark. One bullet tore through one of its wings and the other hit it square in the face. It screeched one last time as its left eye exploded, the bullet blowing out the back of its strangely shaped skull. Dark, ichorous fluids and gore splattered onto me as the Screamer shot overhead, crashed into a table and tumbled onto the floor, convulsing. Not wanting to take any chances, I sprinted over to it and stomped on its neck. I felt its spine give under my heel and was rewarded with a satisfying snap, then the creature settled to the floor and was still.

For a full minute, I just stood over the fallen Screamer and stared at it, taking shallow, shuddery breaths as the adrenaline leaked out of my system. Now that I had the chance to take a closer look at it, it looked even stranger and more disgusting than I originally thought. Now it was official. Much to my dismay, this wasn't a dream after all.

What the hell did I just kill? What's happening to this place?!

Only after my vitals had returned to something near normal did I notice how quiet it was. The only things I heard were the fluorescent lights faintly buzzing overhead, a slight breeze drifting in through the broken windows and the very low hiss of static from the pocket radio on the table. As I thought over what just happened, an idea began to form in my mind.

The radio was screaming bloody murder right before that thing crashed in here, and now it's virtually silent. What if it somehow responds to these...monsters?

It was a long shot - actually, it was quite a long shot, but it was the only thing that seemed to make sense. If I was right, I'd have my own personal early warning system, which would definitely be helpful to say the least. But even if I was wrong, there was no harm in taking it along. My decision made, I grabbed the radio and slipped it into my jacket pocket. After one last look around the café, I opened the door and walked out into the foggy unknown.