Hello, again! So I see you've chosen to read my newest fic- The Butter Cake Quest. This was something thought up at 1 in the morning, so...hilarity ensues.

Disclaimer: I do not own Silent Hill, and Doritos cheese burns your eyes. D:

Henry settled himself into the uncomfortably crowded couch, squished in between Eileen and Cynthia as the two women fought for his attention. Behind him, the hot breath of Red Pyramid Thing, also known as Red, warmed his neck. In front of him were more people than he ever thought could possibly fit in the tiny living room of Room 302. He sunk further into the cushions; he was terrible in social situations.

In the corner, Bogeyman and Alex were having an arm wrestling match while Elle cheered on her new husband, who was failing miserably to the eight-feet tall Pyramid Head. Alessa and Heather stared each other down on opposite sides of the coffee table; James and Maria were being watched by Frank, who stood in a corner, stroking a small box. Henry recognized it as the umbilical cord. By the fridge were a small group of Slurpers, chowing down on the raw meat from the fridge with ugly, sucking sounds. And, for some reason, Valtiel stood in the center of the room.

"Will everyone shut up and listen?" the angel called over the din. Bogeyman slammed Alex's hand to the table without resistance, cracking the wood. The people continued talking.

"QUIET!" Red boomed, effectively silencing the room and scaring the living daylights out of Henry. Even the Slurpers quit eating.

"I think you all know why you were called here," Valtiel began. "And no, Frank, it was not so you could show off your umbilical cord. Jesus Christ, why did you even bring that thing?"

Frank hugged his box protectively.

"I hope you never had kids," Valtiel continued, shaking his head. James paused in picking his nose. "Oh. That's right. Uh...nevermind. We must replenish our butter cake stock." His voice carried a tone of urgency.

Red scoffed, lighting up a cigarette.

"Because of Red, a stray spark burned three years' worth of butter cake." Valtiel pointed a finger accusingly at the huge Pyramid Head.

"Wait," Heather laughed, "how much butter cake?"

"A three-year supply." Valtiel stared at her curiously.

"Why do we need so much?" Heather questioned.

"It's a delicious confection that can be eaten in the event of some cataclysm. While humans outside scuttle around, eating their own feces and even themselves, we will be dining daily on ALL THE BUTTER CAKE WE CAN STUFF OUR FACES WITH." Valtiel chortled menacingly, rubbing his palms together.

Henry mumbled, "What the hell?"

"So...yeah. We're going on a hunt for butter cake, lest we-" Valtiel shuddered-"buy some from Shepherd's Glen."

James asked, "Will there be dirty toilets for us to stick our hands down?" That started a cascade of more questions.

"Will there be umbilical cords?"

"Do I need to do any special favors?"

"Do I have to go?" Heather complained.

Valtiel addressed each person in turn. "No, Good Lord no, maybe, yes."

"Excellent," chuckled Cynthia.

"We'll seperate into pairs or small groups. Get with a partner or partners now." Valtiel stepped back to allow the people to break up.

Cynthia and Eileen both snatched one of Henry's arms, glaring at each other over Henry's head. Alex was claimd by Elle and, strangely, Bogeyman. Frank chose his umbilical cord while James nabbed Maria. The monsters continued eating, not interested in hunting for butter cakes. The only people left were Heather, Alessa, and Red.

"We'll go alone." Heather spoke for herself and Alessa.

"No, you can't," Valtiel replied firmly.

"And why not?" Heather set her jaw stubbornly.

"Silent Hill's sexist, that's why." Valtiel crossed his arms. "Women can't survive without a male companion. Look at Maria. She got killed twice without James. Eileen would have walked straight into the Killing Machine if Henry didn't rescue her. Elle nearly got killed by one of the first monsters she saw. Seriously, women's rights go back ten years with each step you take into Silent Hill."

Heather huffed, stomping her foot. "Whatever, you pig."

Alessa bounced forward, throwing her arms around Red's legs since she was too short to reach his waist. "Sorry, Heather, but you can take Frank," she snickered.

"I hate kids, I hate kids, I hate kids," Heather muttered to herself.

"Wanna see my umbilical cord?" Frank offered, extending the box.

"Valtiel, can I go with you instead?"

"No. May the hunt begin!" Valtiel announced gleefully.

The large throng filed at half a mile an hour spilled out into the hall; because of Red and Bogeyman's sheer size, their helmets catching on the doorway. The wooden frame snapped, leaving Henry to eye it disapprovingly.

"You couldn't have ducked?" he protested, stepping around the new dusting of plaster on his carpet.

"What did you say, pretty boy?" Red whipped around, brandishing his spear threateningly.

"N-nothing," Henry stuttered, staring at the huge and extremely sharp tip.

"That's what I thought, pansy." Red continued walking, a swagger to his step.

In the middle of the horde were Bogeyman, Alex, and Elle. Elle walked abreast to Bogeyman, who was striking up conversation with her.

"So, your husband's in the army, eh?" Bogeyman questioned, dragging along his Great Knife. "Should I buy you a drink?" His shameless comment made Elle laugh.

"Down, boy," Alex muttered. "She's my wife, get your own."

To that the shirtless Bogeyman replied, "I'll take yours. You'll find another."

Alex shot a glare at Elle, who chose to ignore it.

At the very back were Heather, James, Maria,and Frank. Heather bore a deep scowl as James and Frank were having the father-son argument of a dysfunctional family.

"Do I need to bring my chainsaw?" James asked, referring to his favorite weapon. He did, however, have the tendency to go a bit crazy with it.

"Of course you don't, idiot." Frank whacked him over the head with the box.

"Owww!"

"I'm so sorry, I didn't mean it," Frank apologized sincerely.

"Aw, that's okay, Daddy!" James wrapped his arms around his father, only to be pushed away.

"Not you, the umbilical cord." Frank eyed James with a look of pure disgust.

"Why me?" Heather moaned.

Walter crept through the open door into Room 302, finding the place completely trashed. Furniture was overturned, Slurpers were tearing into prime ribs in the kitchen, and cigarettes smoked on the floor.

"Oh, Mother," he murmured, "what have they done to you?"

He sat himself down on the couch, stomping out a cigarette which was burning through the carpet.

"Guys?" he called. "I'm here!"

No response.

"Damn it. Am I late again?"