SPOILERS TO THOSE WHO HAVEN'T BEATEN SILENT HILL 2.

Seriously... Spoilers.

It gives away the "twists" in Silent Hill 2.

Please don't come whining if you haven't beaten Silent Hill 2 and you get spoilers...

Taking up some more space while you think over whether you beat the game or not.

Alright, last chance to back out from the spoiler...

Silent Hill 2 – Sort of follows the "In Water" ending but obviously I (the writer) make him live instead – James faces off against Maria, in the guise of Mary. Now he's seen walking through the streets of Silent Hill, contemplating suicide.

Silent Hill 4 – Takes place right after leaving the hole in Subway World, after Cynthia disappears after vomiting.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: I have absolutely no idea about the maps since it's been so long since I've played these games. I'll make it up as I go along (the location of the locations, I mean, not their names) so I hope they're not too big of a nuisance.

Enjoy.

James walked through the night of Silent Hill. The air was still dry like always, but it felt cooler against his skin. He grimaced. The days of Silent Hill were nearly identical to its nights: there was no light and no clear view of the roads because of that damned fog. And to add to his inconvenience, it was dead quiet. He hated the uneasy feeling silence gave him.

He walked alongside the walls of the houses; it was a precaution he took just in case he could surrounded by monsters at anytime soon. He stopped walking and a small squeak sounded from his boots. His feet could almost feel the cold asphalt underneath. The cold slithered up his legs to his spine. A small shudder escaped his throat. He had been wandering for some time, unable to read the map clearly with the flashlight out of battery. James bit down on his lips, holding in a sob.

There was no point to all this.

Angela was probably dead; he had been unable to dissuade her when she walked into the fires of the staircase. He had killed Eddie out of self defense. Laura had run off somewhere, hating him for killing Mary. Mary… Mary was dead and Maria… He probably imagined her out of his loneliness. The fight probably wasn't real. Everything was probably all in his head. He sighed. He still had ammo left in his pistol. One shot could end it all. Just ONE shot.

He cocked the gun and put it to his head. His finger trembled on the trigger as he took in sharp breaths. …No, no… He couldn't do it. James was so afraid of pain. Of death. Maybe he could… Maybe if he drove the car into Toluca Lake… If he decided to back out on the last second, it would already be too late. James would already be dead by then, plunged deep into the bottom of the lake. James put on a jaded smile and proceeded toward the graveyard. The parking lot would be nearby.

Henry's eyes shot open. He was lying on his bed face up, staring into the ceiling above. His eyes wandered around to the room's decaying walls; it was in poor condition with cobwebs gathering at its corners and the bed sheets smelled murky. What… The hell? Hauling his legs to the side of the bed, he wearily sat up, rubbing at his eyes down to his temples.

"What… Another dream? …But it seemed so real." He had just been down at a subway, he was sure of it. Henry stretched his neck, trying to recall the events he had just gone through. He had proceeded down an escalator, met up with a woman by the name of Cynthia. She mentioned something about a dream and a favor… A dream. "Or could it be? Was I really inside that woman's dream?" Some time after they had wandered the subway, she said that she had to go to the bathroom yet she never came out. There were… These dog things that ran out of the men's bathroom… Killed them with a wine bottle. Where did he even get the wine bottle?

Afterwards, he had went into the bathroom where all the stalls were empty, leaving out of a hole similar to the one he entered from. Henry stood up, ruffling his hair. The hole… "No, that's just stupid… What am I thinking?" He muttered to himself as he walked towards the door. The HOLE… He walked into the bathroom. Yep, there's definitely still a hole on the wall. He put a hand to his forehead and proceeded towards the kitchen. He was being delusional, that was it. As he stared onward, he noticed something odd about the dresser in the living room. Someone had moved it. As he pushed it out of the way, he picked up a small revolver and noticed unusual writing on the side. He chose to ignore it and instead focused on the hole that was made on the wall. When he looked into it, he noticed Eileen, his neighbor. …Now he felt like a pervert peeking through the hole. As he pondered, the phone rang. Picking it up, he muttered a stammering "H-hello?" his voice still groggy from sleep.

"…Where did you go? …Hurry… Save me." Cynthia sounded on the other end. Her voice was shaky and paranoid. "If you need a token, there's one here!" The line disconnected. What now? He stumbled toward the bathroom. Hole was still there. He grumbled and proceeded in. An unknown entity pushed him forward and he was at the other end in no time. When he came to, he was lying on the cold floor in a fetal position. As he pulled himself up unto his feet, his eyes blinked twice. This wasn't the subway… But if it was, some kid must have gone smashing out all the lights. Henry stumbled around, feeling around in the dark, but he eventually gave up, choosing to dig into his pockets for a lighter. Flicking it open, a small fire lit, barely illuminating the room. Henry didn't even smoke; where the hell had he gotten a lighter? He decided he didn't have the time to think too deeply into it. The wine bottle was handy in killing those dogs, and so was this lighter as a light source. It was better not to question such convenience.

He peered around the strange area, looking behind him. There was a wall that had old newspaper headlines glued on poorly to its surface. The smell of rotting flesh stank in the air and Henry winced as he read the message aloud: There was a hole here. It's gone now. It was scribbled on the wall messily in blood red paint (?). Henry scratched his head. How was he going to return now…? Perhaps, like in the subway, there was an alternatively placed hole that he could utilize.

His eyes focused in on another message. He read aloud once more: If you really want to see Mary, you should just die. But you might be heading to a different place than Mary, James. James? Why was that name so familiar? He looked off into space with a blank expression, deep in thought. In time, he shrugged it off. It would come to him sooner or later. First things first, he had to get out of here… For there was something very disconcerting about this place, something that sent a shiver down his spine. As he made his way out, he noticed that all the walls were in worse condition than his room. They were rusted with what smelled and looked like blood whilst nearly all of its wallpaper was peeled off. When he eventually made his way out, he saw that it wasn't anymore pleasant outside than inside.

The streets were surrounded by thick fog and dry air immediately entered his lungs. Henry began to cough violently and his eyes began to slowly adjust. This area…

Silent Hill.

This was the place he took some of his photographs in. How pretty it was then… What had happened to it now? As he walked through the foggy streets, cocking the revolver softly, he spotted a silhouette. He squinted his eyes. It belonged to a… A person.

What was that! James jumped in spot, eyes shifting about wildly, while his hands leapt out of his pockets to refill the pistol. He had already shot a couple of rounds to the empty air. His legs trembled as he started to breathe easy again. He did want to die. He truly did. But after fighting for his life all this time, he didn't want to end it like this. He wanted to go peacefully, leaving his body behind somewhere the monsters would not be able to reach him.

He shook his head, clearing his thoughts. Never mind that… He had felt a new presence in Silent Hill. No… He had heard it too… That human scream. It was near inaudible by anyone's standards, but in a town like this, it was impossible to not have sounds linger in the back of one's head. After spending so much time wandering the haunted town's streets, he felt connected to the place somehow. He closed his eyes and his nostrils hungrily took in a lungful of air. There was someone else here… Maybe… This was reason enough to live a little longer.

James walked toward where his gut led him.

Henry had shot down the monster, wasting multiple rounds before giving it a good stomp to the head. Henry almost never got surprised, let alone disturbed, but that – thing – had scared the hell out of him. He stomped into it over and over, the blood sprinkling over his shoes and making a nasty squelching sound as the blood trickled out of its cracks. Henry looked as inexpressive as always, but inside his heart thumped violently, nearly leaping out of his chest. He started to sprint towards the intersecting streets. He had heard a light hissing sound behind him, a sound similar to the one the monster had made. His heart rate dropped significantly, his speed decreasing as well. Henry just realized something… It was a sound similar to those dogs he encountered at the subway. Could they all connect somehow?

Then he became conscious of another problem. What would he do about Cynthia? She was still trapped in the subway. He lightly slapped his forehead. There were so many things going wrong with his life. His career as a photographer had plummeted down, he had gotten locked in his own apartment, unable to leave no matter what, haunted constantly with threatening dreams and painful headaches, and lastly, he was now stuck in this strange town with abnormal creatures roaming around the blood stained buildings and alone by himself in the unnaturally cold, unfeeling air.

…What the hell was all this about?

He winced. …No, he had to get out of here first. Henry pushed away the thoughts and ran on. He spotted yet another silhouette and he readied his revolver, prepared to shoot at any time.

James heard a clicking sound to the left of him. It sounded similar to the cocking sounds his gun made when he reloaded it. Then his eyes widened in recognition. He speedily turned his head to spot a brunette rushing toward him with a revolver.

"Wait! Wait, I'm not one of those things!" he yelled out in surrender, arms outstretched to push back the stranger.

Henry stopped dead in his tracks. …Thank god… He eyed the blonde suspiciously, still not quite over the shock the monster had given him moments before.

James was relieved, letting out a pant. "I'm so glad some-someone else is here…" he said, stuttering slightly between words. He had gotten worked up over the way he could have been pathetically gunned down just now. Henry's face turned calm once more, his usual poker face having returned fully.

"I'm sorry; I saw a monster a moment ago and thought you were another." Henry replied, a hint of exhaustion in his voice. He had sprinted headfirst into the blonde in a battle stance; it's self explanatory why he was out of breath. He added: "I only arrived here minutes ago."

James flinched at that. Wait, what? "What do you mean 'minutes ago'?" he narrowed his eyes quizzically.

"I couldn't leave my apartment for days and well, I had found this hole – uhm – in the wall of my bathroom. When I had climbed through it… Well, I was here." Henry answered truthfully. He was rather naïve and outrageously shy when it came to conversing with others. He probably had no idea how mentally disabled the answer had made him sound. The blank stare and nervous smirk on Henry's face probably didn't help matters.

"…" James said nothing. Just how was he supposed to respond to something like that? He merely gazed into Henry's eyes. …He's not lying… This… Wow. I think I meet someone sane, yet…

"You believe me, right? I mean… This whole thing has been so weird for me. You saw the monsters too, didn't you?" He murmured. I said too much again…

James didn't reply immediately, still gazing into his eyes. They were the same color as his hair. Chocolate brown. He seemed normal enough, but he had been fooled before. He eyed down at his pockets. James wasn't sane himself; he knew that. There couldn't be any harm in this; there wasn't anything James could possibly lose now. If he died, so be it. "Yeah, I saw them. …What's your name?"

Henry fidgeted as he twiddled his fingers. "Henry. …Henry Townshend." There were slight pauses in his answer. He couldn't entirely trust this man, but names couldn't hurt. "And you?"

"So what are you going to do?" James asked, not hearing Henry's question.

"I was hoping we could leave." He said, coming out more firmly that he intended.

"…We?" James asked, sounding more unfriendly that he had hoped.

"Oh, uh, I just thought –" Henry didn't finish. "Wouldn't you want to leave a town like this? I mean, with the monsters and all."

"Good point. …I guess I could tag along; I have my car parked somewhere around here." They stood in awkward silence, a uneasy feeling hovering over them.

"So what's your name?"

"Sorry, I forgot to introduce myself." A nervous chuckle. "It's James."

Henry nodded slowly, noticing how he didn't mention his last name. "Your surname?" slipped from his tongue, and he regretted it immediately.

"Oh – uh…" James was taken aback. "Sunderland. Why?"

Henry fixed his eyes unto his face. He had heard that last name before… "W-wait… I know you; you would casually wave to me from time to time down at the lobby…" He murmured softly under his breath. To James, it came out an unusual chant. He strained his eyes, trying to put the pieces together. He kept staring at James.

"W-what are you looking at?" James grew stiff, his fingers slowly gliding over to his pistol. There was something off about him…

"James… You would visit South Ashfield Heights from time to time, right?" Henry said, a bit louder than his usual volume.

His hand relaxed. "Y-yeah. Have we met before?"

Henry sighed; it wasn't surprising that James wouldn't remember him. They had met eyes momentarily during one of James' infrequent visits to his father. Henry had absentmindedly waved to James while crossing paths at the lobby, leaving James to blink twice before giving a warm smirk in reply. Those were happier times for James, when Mary wasn't sick. Henry had blushed at realizing he had waved at a stranger for no apparent reason, yet feeling slightly happy for the human interaction he so rarely had. Every other time James visited, he would wave at Henry in recognition, leaving the brunette flustered each time. "Not really… But I know your father, Frank Sunderland; he was the superintendent of the apartment I lived at.

"Ah – I see."

Henry continued on, a bit disappointed with James' short response. "He got a little worried about you. It was said that you had disappeared into Silent Hill for quite some time."

"…Yeah."

"Well, uh, what are you doing here? What's with these monsters?"

Henry could notice James' slight quiver. He had gotten a bit defensive. "N-nothing. …I was visiting, and well, I got lost. These monsters were everywhere…"

Henry nodded, saying nothing. It didn't entirely add up, but Henry saw that the man was tense; it would be stupid to further question him.