Hello all~! I'm back! And I think this will be one of the final, if not the final chapters of this fanfiction. I apologize greatly for the 5-month hiatus. I hope my readers are still there, and do come back to see the epic conclusion of this very long project of mine. I didn't expect it to last as far as this, and I am very grateful for the reviews and the support I have received from the community.

Love,

JapFan04

In the end, everyone is meant to die. What's wrong with giving them an early end? It's the same destination for everyone.

It's awfully quiet now...

That's right. She was dead.

Chance first felt the strangely soft mattress underneath the skin of his back. It was odd, and out of place for a body much too accustomed to the roughness of a filth-covered, bloody floor and the burning sensation of a great furnace all around him. But the air was cool here…here…

…where was here?

He felt his eyelids press against his cheeks next, and his ribs cracking a little as he inflated his lungs to the maximum with a sigh. Finally, he opened his eyes.

A hand shot up to block the gentle grey sunlight from assaulting his sensitive black orbs, dull silver blinking as he growled against the unwelcome brightness. Where was this? This wasn't the labyrinth…

A photograph lay amongst shattered pieces of glass and a broken picture-frame on the floor…buzz-lightyear bedsheets covered the too-small mattress…a room…so familiar…and yet so foreign. Ah yes…this was once his room…his old self's room. Chance snorted as he sat up on the mattress, smirking masochistically as he felt telltale hot ooze, trickle from between his thighs to dampen the soiled and ruined sheets. How quant it was to be here.

The boy slowly rose to his feet, the gentle black trickle decorating his inner thighs, down to the floor. He craned his neck to survey the room once, before returning his attentions to the open door that had long since been torn off i's hinges from the room the look of it. It was far too cold for his liking-and he greedily snatched up the old tattered, but familiar jacket (as much as he couldn't fathom as to why it was there, and whom it belonged to), off the floor. There was also a pair of jeans, and a shirt-who would have need for such pointless, meager things? He rolled his eyes-humans were…such idiotic creatures, after all.

No matter, the jacket would serve it's purpose.

Like he was born into this world with the instincts of a bird that knew to fly south, Chance wrapped the jacket around his shoulders before he ventured down the old, dusty stairs-eyes spying the kitchen where there were numerous holes in the floor and ceiling, and a few bloodstains against a corner, a broken window-before heading out the door. He vaguely registered what could have happened in this house, this old, pathetic house that used to belong to his old pathetic self. Such memories were…pointless.

Home. He needed to get home. Home, where it was warm. No…where it was as hot as the fires of hell itself. Home.

So he walked.

He walked, and walked, and walked-slowly, leisurely, even. He walked the quiet, abandoned streets that seemed to empty as he made an appearance. The sounds of growling turned to whimpering and yipping as he passed by dumpsters, hissing and snapping quieted down, monstrous groaning slowed to a halt. He smiled, knowing very well that the scent of his god, his Pyramid Head was what instilled such fear in the creatures of this place of the damned.

"Help! Help-oh-ghod! Oh GOD-please! Please help me!" A single voice, ignorant and foolish, rang out in the silence.

Chance scrunched up his nose as he held the jacket around his shoulders tighter, glaring down at the-he shuddered at the thought-human, crawling towards the toes of his bare feet. Hmm…he believed he had some recollection of this man. Or perhaps they were the memories of his master? Travis….? Travis Grady…yes, yes…that was his name.

The boy rolled his eyes; he had no time for such petty cries. Disgusting. So…utterly digusting-humans…they were always, always the exception to the rule. They understood nothing. They were selfish, and ignorant! How dare he…how dare this little maggot speak to him? How dare he lay his eyes upon the boy's naked flesh as is he had the right to?

As the top half of Travis' severed body desperately gasped for air, as futile as the effort was, Chance took it upon himself to personally end the weak little fucker. He raised his foot above the man's head, and vigorously stomped it into the ground. The sound of the shattering of human skull drew some Groaners, Double Heads and Sniffers closer-the demonic canines wishing to feast on the flesh.

Chance smiled as he saw them approaching, turning to take his leave so that they could enjoy themselves. They had earned it. The sound of tearing, suckling and snarling grew farther and farther he walked on, to the main road.

There, his black eyes widened a little as he felt more than spotted, Seishiro hunched over a body in his arms. He approached the other young man, taking stand behind him, gazing down in curiosity.

"What are you doing?" he asked, a lazy dawl in his voice.

Seishiro's shoulder quivered but a slight bit, and he was silent, but the quiet around them made it clear that the sound of water droplets falling into the road was not rain.

"It sounds like it's raining." Chance said. "I can't remember the last time I heard it rain…"

It does not rain here.

Seishiro gazed down at the empty shell of a body, that once contained a lively soul that he had, despite everything, had grown attached to. He felt empty, and yet at the same time the feeling felt right. He had already lost so much up to this point-his shattered soul and black heart already accustomed to the pain. And still his tears came. Empty, sullen tears.

"I really hate it…" Seishiro said finally. "when it rains."

Chance rolled his eyes and removed the jacket from his shoulders, draping it on Seishiro's lowered head. "I'm going home."

Seishiro's eyes, still faucets of pain, slowly rose from the dead body in his arms to Chance's back as he walked into the grey fog, towards the abandoned school, where he knew the labyrinth lay beneath.

Sudden realization hit him as Chance continued, "Pyramid Head is waiting."

Boy boy had finally called him by name. It was time. He gazed back down and Cindy's frightened, frozen face, his jaw clacking as he open his mouth wide and chomped down; fangs sinking into cold skin, flesh and bone.

Chance stopped in his tracks. "…we're leaving?"

Seishiro wrenched his head back, mouth all bloodied and chunks of meat hanging from between his sharpened teeth. He nodded.

Cindy's eyes snapped open, her heart-rate sending the monitor into a flurry of beeps. She sat up in her bed, screaming to the point where it seemed like her lungs would give out.

"Be GONE, demon! Leave our Sister alone!" the priest cried.

"AAAAAAAAHHH! RRRAAAAAAhh-.." the girl on the bed choked, eyes rolling back as she fell back onto the bed like a limp doll.

"Did it work, father…?" One of the head nuns asked.

"…I believe the Lord God has aided us…" the priest said, out of breath.

They had found her on the side of the road on the outskirts of that forsaken abandoned town. Where the coal fires that caused the massive tragedy still burned deep underground, like the very gateway to hell. It had been four years since they had taken her in as one of their own. And without warning, a hellish demon from the darkness overtook her.

"What could have caused this?" the head nun asked. "What could have compelled such a dark force to possess this innocent young girl?"

"Ah…" the priest sighed, using his hand to slick back the fallen grey hairs on his head. "It is because she is innocent that it wanted her."

"My Lord…"

Cindy stirred on the bed, sitting up slowly looking as if she had awaken from a very long sleep. With tired eyes that were red and swollen, she looked at her companions and caregivers around the room.

"Sister Cindy!"

"Oh Cindy, sweet Cindy you've come back!"

"Bless you, child!"

That afternoon, while the nuns were busy preparing for the celebratory mass and thanksgiving, Cindy approached the priest who had performed the exorcism on her.

"Father…" she said meekly, in that gentle voice she was known for.

"Yes, my child?" he asked, a hand on a young boy's head.

Cindy smiled at the young boy, "Oh, are you busy?"

"No, no, young Walter here was just asking me a few questions about his mother again." the priest said. "Walter, why don't you get to know Sister Cindy, she like you has also lost her parents. So the good Lord gave her to us to become a part of our family, just like you."

Walter Sullivan looked the girl up and down and shyly stepped back behind the preacher.

"Ahaha! It seems he's a little shy."

"Will they be heading back to the orphanage, soon?" Cindy asked.

The priest nodded. "Yes, I believe so. Why do you ask?"

Cindy's small smile widened and her eyes filled with a gentle excitement. "I would like to go with them. To care for the children."

"Oh, I see." the priest said, as he proceeded to give her his blessing.

Where is Steven, mommy? He can't play and I'm sad.

You mustn't ask, my darling-Steven has been bad.

Billy too, and Sally? Did they do something wrong?

I'm afraid it's true, child-all your friends are gone.

The boy had been bad today. And that scary voice just wouldn't go away. It hounded him, every hour, ever moment. Growing stronger. Scarier.

Beware of he who took them-he goes by many names.

The Bogeyman, the Shadowed One, but all are he, the same.

For every sin a child has, must be a punishment to bear.

Your friends are now beyond our reach; trapped deep within his lair

Even now, as he ventured home from school. He felt it, following him. In front of him. Behind him. In his head.

And if they take what is not theirs, there can be no doubt.

He'll stretch their skin until it snaps, and all the blood drains out.

Remember to always behave, for sins he won't abide.

He wields a rusty, jagged blade, to cut out your insides.

The boy trembled as he sat on the couch, swallowing hard. The other children were present here, and they were all fixated on the magical portal into the animated world, known as the television. He clutched in his hand, a strand of a girl's hair-but she was a freak. She deserved to be bullied.

The lying little children, with souls selfish and small.

Will find their wriggling tongues cut out, and nailed to his wall.

The bullies and their spiteful wrath will find torment as well.

Soon he will strike them where they stand and drag them into hell.

The girl he had taken the hair from was away from all the other children now, being cared for by the sisters of the orphanage. He didn't like having her in the same room as them. She was a freak. But the boy was starting to squirm a little now, feeling uncomfortable at the singing voice which grew only louder as he caught sight of the girl, with long black hair and pale skin, weeping in the next room-and he could've sworn it was coming from the television.

Child, you must obey your parents; do everything they say.

Little ones who do otherwise, he tortures in the flames.

Beatings cleanse the soul, they say, and that is what he'll do.

If you don't control your anger then you'll feel his anger too.

Bedtime was a horrible ordeal now. Even though he had gotten rid of the annoying girl, the darkness of the room presented a new fear. An enigmatic figure, forever present in his peripheral vision. The pale, blonde young man in the corner of the room smiled, naked and covered in scars, cuts and blood, eyes as wide as his jawless grin. Tirelessly, he continued his horrible recitation. The same haunting voice the little boy had been hearing these past several days.

"You are your brother's keeper, remember it always.

Or else, the Bogeyman will chain you underneath the waves."

"Sister…there's someone in the corner of the room…" the boy said, wanting to crawl under his blankets. "I think it's the Bogeyman."

"Shh. Hush child. It's just your imagination, get to sleep." the young girl-a new face in the orphanage smiled. "There's no such thing as the Bogeyman, you know that."

But her smile held back a knowing tone in her voice. A coy, pretentious tone. "Sister Cindy…"

"Now get to bed…" Cindy smiled, tilting her head cheerfully, before turning to leave the room. "Tomorrow, you're going to apologize to Alessa for pulling her hair."

The lights went off.

"And while the good children live, the bad ones cannot escape their fate." Chance sang, chuckling a little.

The boy waited a few moments, shivering in the dark, waiting. Knowing what was coming. It came every night. Every night it got louder and louder. Closer and closer. Last night, he could hear it, just outside the room door. Tonight, it would enter. He was sure of it.

Chance continued, rising from his place in the corner of the room for the first time since he had manifested. "For once you hear his screeching wail, it's already too late…"

Sure enough, the sound of screeching, like long nails being dragged across a chalkboard, magnified several times over, echoed from down the hall. The boy looked around him fearfully, seeing the other children tense in their beds and slide underneath the covers more, trying to ignore the sound.

No! There was no way he was going to let it get him!

"Sister Cindy!" the boy cried, leaping for his bed, a frantic hurry in his steps-he had to be quick, while the sound was still at the far end of the hallway! "Sister Cindy!"

"So do not cry aloud at night, stay hidden in your bed…" Chance preached to a frightened girl, named Emilie as he approached her bed and bent over her form.

The little boy gasped as he collided with a giant pair of legs as soon as he left the doorway. The massive limbs, covered in dried and leather-turned human skin, stitched together in a mess of different shades, covered in red, bloody patches and smelling foul. The punisher glowered down at his latest execution victim.

The blonde once-was-a-boy in the bent over the girl smiled. "Or the Bogeyman from Silent Hill will come chop off your head."

SPLAT!

Well, there you go. I'm really really sorry to those of you who were expecting more smut. But there IS a time and place for it, and after everything that happened, having a misplaced sexy time can really ruin the plot. I hope I have left you lovely sickos some wonderful memories in my first fanfiction 'Chance' the predecessor to this one.

I MIGHT be able to conjure up a continuation of this-but don't count on it. When a story drags on for too long, it gets ruined. But here it is. These two children birthed from the loins of my sickest and darkest nightmares is here. Please share to those you believe would appreciate.

Keep creeping, Silent Hill fans. Keep creeping.

Love,

JapFan04