Chapter 5 (1/2)

Chapter Five -To the Deepest depths-

Just as the letter had promised, a key was buried at the feet of a saint in Rosewater Park.  James clutched the old bronze key in his hand as he traveled west down Nathan Avenue to the Silent Hill Historical Society.  Where Laura was no longer mattered, now that he had this new clue.  If the letter was to be believed, with this key he would be able to solve the mysteries that haunted this bizarre town, as well as uncover the truth regarding Mary.

Just holding the key poured new energy into James’s body and mind; he was even able to walk without being bothered by the numbness in his legs.  On occasion, a monster would stumble out of the fog and block his path, but they were becoming nothing more than an annoying nuisance.  It was only the same armless creatures and mannequins that he had seen and fought so many times before.  James didn’t even consider them to be real threats anymore.  Still, as always, the sight of their twisted and deformed bodies brought the old, familiar feeling of disgust.  Every time he beat them to the ground and bashed them with the steel pipe until they finally stopped moving, it made his mind clearer and more focused.  He even felt a spark of what could only be described as s.a.d.i.s.tic pleasure.

Finally, James arrived at the small museum.  Stepping past the reception desk in the narrow lobby, he stepped into a display room with walls lined with paintings and photos.  Most of them were landscape paintings or aged pictures of Silent Hill from the past.  Only one picture seemed out of place.

[Misty day, remains of the Judgment]

It depicted a giant man, drawn into a scene littered with shadows of people skewered on spears.

“It’s him...” James whispered.  Though the figure was portrayed as a shadow against an ashen gray sky, its distinctive silhouette was unmistakable.  It was the red pyramid monster.  How could he explain something like this being here...?  Other paintings were accompanied by descriptions printed underneath them, but this one had nothing but its t.i.tle.  Not wanting to think about it much, James moved on to the next room.

There were dozens of photos in faded black, white, and sepia tones, all of them wordlessly telling the history of Silent Hill.  As he browsed through the images, James was drawn to a photo of a very familiar building.  It looked a bit different from its current form, but it was clearly recognizable as Brookhaven Hospital.  He read the caption.

This hospital was built in response to a great plague that followed a wave of immigration to this area.

It was originally little more than a shack, but it gradually grew and grew.

Next to it hung a picture of the former hospital director.  Furthermore, there were several enigmatic photos depicting nothing but a deep hole.  He wondered if they were related to the hospital somehow, but it was impossible to tell as the pictures had no written descriptions.  Walking deeper into the museum, James met with another striking image.

[Death by Skewering]

An execution at the prison.

Death by skewering or strangling.

To choose this death is the

prisoner's last taste of freedom.

Hanging next to it was a photo ent.i.tled:

[Toluca Prison Camp]

Built during the Civil War.

Later became Toluca Prison.

Going by these descriptions of past events, that prison must have been a site of extreme cruelty.  James had never heard of anything like “death by skewering” being carried out in colonial times.  And if a prisoner had the freedom to choose their fate, why would they ever choose that?  What would push them to choose to die in such a brutal fas.h.i.+on?  The stories these images told was chilling, and was beginning to give the display room an eerie atmosphere.

Eventually, as would be expected in such a small building, James came to a dead end.  However, he was puzzled by what he found in the middle of the furthest room.  At least now there was an explanation for those photographs of holes.

“What the h.e.l.l is this...?”  Looking into the square opening in the floor, he found nothing but a gaping abyss.  Gazing into the bottomless darkness, a thought drifted through James’s mind: the blackness hiding inside this pit...is like me.  It might even by my destiny...  It certainly is possible that I’m just holding onto a fantasy world, and surely a person that crazy is capable of believing that there’s nothing wrong with himself at all.

Any normal person could guess that, but it wasn’t a guarantee.  Just like how sometimes you realize that you’re dreaming while you’re still asleep, maybe a madman could see through a delusion while still trapped inside it.  The letter from the house on Lindsey Street was proof.

That letter was clearly addressed to me.  Could it be a message from a psychiatrist?  Maybe the whispers of doctors trying to cure a deranged patient appeared in the form of that letter.  The patient records in the office, the diary pages scattered on the roof, if they really are related to me, what if they were the doctors’ attempts to guide me?

It brought to mind the words scribbled on the map from the hospital director’s office.

“He who fears being watched from the abyss

will be unable to look into it himself.

The truth can only be obtained by pressing forward.”

James stared again into the hole.

I’ll do it.  No matter how deep it is, if this is the darkness of the heart...I should see what’s waiting at the bottom...

With these grim but determined thoughts, James threw himself into the pit.

-2-

James was surrounded by a circular brick wall, a pool of shallow water at his feet.  It was a well.  A rather anticlimactic place to land considering his grand, poetic talk of  “‘the darkness of the heart.”  And now, a.s.suming this was in fact a real well and not another illusion, he was trapped with no way to climb back up.

Why the h.e.l.l did I ever think of doing something this stupid!?  But, wait...  After jumping down a well this deep, how did I manage to walk away without so much as a bruise?  Even now, my legs still feel weak, so how did I manage to land on my feet...?

James searched around the well, tapping the stone walls with the steel pipe.  If he could find a pa.s.sage of some sort, surely it must lead to an exit.  At one spot there was a different, much lighter sound.  Bas.h.i.+ng the spot with the pipe caused bricks to crumble and open a gaping hole into a dark path.  It was a waterway, or perhaps a sewer drain.  James ventured into the pa.s.sage, his footsteps splas.h.i.+ng through the shallow water as he walked.

A low roar echoed through the path, mingling with the trickling sound of flowing water.  It sounds like…one of those armless things.  James readied his steel pipe and prepared for a confrontation with the monster hiding around a bend in the ca.n.a.l.  As soon as he met his opponent, he struck the first blow directly to its head, sending it tumbling backwards to the ground.  The blood from the creature’s wound spread though the water, dying it red.  Not that this was a problem; the water was filthy to begin with, and a little more couldn’t possibly make it worse.

Before James could finish it off, the injured creature fled, padding its way through the water as skillfully as a frog.  He knew that by letting it live, it would only come back to attack him again later, but James chose not to pursue the monster.  With the pa.s.sage flooded with water, he’d have little chance of catching it anyway.  It’d be too dangerous to even try.

Before long, James reached the end of the ca.n.a.l.  A dry path extended into a small room, empty except for a door in the ground.  It was a normal door, with a regular k.n.o.b, only the placement was a bit odd.  James had to tilt his head at the peculiar sight.  It must lead to a bas.e.m.e.nt.  He grabbed the door to pull it open and…

Yet another pitch dark s.p.a.ce, so deep that the light of his flashlight couldn’t reach the bottom.  A wry smile spread across James’s face.  I suppose the darkness of the heart is hidden by many layers…

He jumped in without hesitation.

The drop felt longer the second time.  Could it be…that I’m already dead?  James was doubtful.  How could I survive those falls without injury unless I was a ghost?  But…while this place is far from heaven, it’s not enough to be considered h.e.l.l.

Several tables and chairs were neatly lined up in the room, the old wooden furniture covered in thick layers of dust.  This was certainly no well.  The place looked to be set up for feeding many people like a cafeteria.  The flashlight beam fell onto a human figure sitting in a chair with his upper body slouched over the table, and his face lying in a pool of blood.  He had been shot through the head with a gun.  This doesn’t look like the work of a monster…but who else is down here other than me?

“Killin’ a person’s so easy…  You just stick the gun to their head and, pow!  Only takes one shot…” said a man crouching on the floor near the corpse as he raised his head to look into the s.h.i.+ning light.  He had a revolver pressed against his temple in a joking ill.u.s.tration of his own words.  It was Eddie.

“You…  Did you kill him?” James asked nervously.

Eddie’s expression stiffened, and he shook his head, the gun still in his hand.  “It wasn’t my fault!  He made me do it…”

“Please, calm down Eddie.  No one’s blaming you.  Just tell me what happened,” James said calmly, aware of the cold sweat beginning to form on his forehead.  He has a gun.  I have an pipe.  If he decided to point that thing at me…well, there’s no way I could stop him.  So let’s not p.i.s.s off the guy with the gun…

“That guy…  He had it coming!  I was mindin’ my own business, and he just came at me!  Besides, he was making fun of me with his eyes!  Just like that other one...”

“I see.”  James gave an approving nod.  “But, Eddie, don’t you think killing him was a bit much?”

“It’s a perfectly good reason!”  Eddie launched into a flurry of shouting, trying to block out James’s words.  “And why the h.e.l.l not!?  Up until now, I let everyone walk all over me, even him and his stupid dog!  They all had it coming!”  He was enraged beyond consolation, spewing angry words, his gaze full of hatred.  James could only stand in silence, afraid of provoking him further.

Suddenly, Eddie’s expression softened again, turning into something more like a childish grin.  “Just kidding James.  Did I scare ya?  No, that guy was dead from the start…”  He turned his back to James, and took a step towards the exit.  “Anyway…I’m going now.  See ya.”

James didn’t stop him.  It wasn’t every day he was all but held at gunpoint like this, and honestly, he was relieved to see Eddie go.

It was then that a particularly absurd thought came to mind: What if Eddie's just another representation of my own madness?  Another me…or another personality?  In other words, he might be a bundle of hatred and rage that could lead to suicide or self-injury in the real world…  As crazy as the idea was, he had come to the point where he could no longer deny the possibility.

Leaning out of the cafeteria exit, James checked to see if the coast was clear.  s.h.i.+ning the flashlight down both ends of the darkened corridor, he found nothing.  At least Eddie hadn’t decided to wait out here to ambush him.  However, ominous voices drifted through the hall—a sure sign that monsters were lurking about.

Where am I?  Stepping through the door, James found himself in a dirty, decaying corridor.  A row or tightly-packed, rusted metal bars lined one of the walls.  The s.p.a.ce behind the bars was divided into small rooms...or rather, jail cells.  It was a prison.  James frowned.  If he was really meant to be here, why would he end up in a place like this?  Could it be because he followed through the same door as the murderous personality Eddie?

The photos of “Toluca Prison” that hung on the walls of the Historical Society resurfaced in his mind.  Could those images have inspired reality to take this shape?  Either way, how did he even end up here?  Considering the path he’d followed from the museum, he should be far below the lake by now.

Several of the cells contained monsters who moaned as they restlessly beat against the metal bars.  James averted his eyes.  Though he was happy to see the repulsive creatures locked up and out of his way, seeing them like this invoked a tiniest shred of pity.  That unpleasant little shred grew until he was no longer able to look at them.  However, he wasn’t exactly eager to let them out of their cells.

He continued past the cells and down the hallway until he reached another, longer corridor.  In the middle of the pa.s.sage were two doors directly facing each other.  One led to a place that looked to be a shower room, while the other opened into a large, hall-like s.p.a.ce.  The s.p.a.ce was empty, save for one towering structure that sat in the middle.  James took a closer look.  It was agallows.  A segment of rope tied into a loop hung from the very top, dangling almost like an invitation.

Suddenly, James was clutched by dizziness as an apparition appeared before him.  Hands tied tightly behind his back, he was standing atop the wooden platform... The jailors, acting in place of a judge, were reading aloud a list of charges.  All of the accusations were directed at James.

“You are lying to yourself by fleeing from the truth.  Because of this, your sentence is to be put to death!”  At those words, the executioner appeared, a giant man wearing a rust-caked, triangular metal helmet.  Grabbing the noose, he quickly pulled it around James’s neck...

James staggered backwards, waving his arms in front of his face as if to drive away the morbid illusion.  Terrifying as the idea was of being executed in a place like this, he was far more disturbed by the realization that as he had stood there with the rope around his neck, something that felt like relief began to settle over him.  As if somehow, he were wis.h.i.+ng for his own destruction.

“Help me...” escaped from his lips in a choked whisper.  “Somebody please...help me....”  He called out to the supposed psychiatrist hiding in the safety of the real world.  He called out to anyone who would listen.

If you’re really there, looking into the face of your deranged patient, and if I’m really there, too, then please help me.  Use medication or whatever you want, I don’t care how rough it is.  Just...please cure me of this insanity.  I don’t want to see these things anymore.  I want out of this nightmare!

Holding back this torrent of words was like trying desperately not to be sick.  James ran blindly through the heavy darkness, out of the large room, through the hallway, past countless doors, wandering aimlessly and seeking any source of salvation.  Before long he found himself in a small standby room for the prison guards.  At the heart of the s.p.a.ce was a well-stocked armory.  While this wasn’t exactly the kind of salvation he was looking for, this place was the ideal shelter for a weak heart.

James picked up a hunting rifle and extra ammunition, holding the cold barrel against his cheek.  It was more than a weapon, but a symbol of order and control that offered comfort.  It helped to ease the terror.  James sat in the armory, clutching the rifle like a child holding a blanket, with no intention of going back outside.  The idea of staying holed up here, in a safe place surrounded by munitions, was far too rea.s.suring to let go of, yet he knew it wouldn’t solve any of his problems.

Maria was dead.  He couldn’t do anything to save her.  Now he was hiding like a coward when he should be out looking for Mary.  Nevertheless, he still wanted to stay shut up in this room.  If only for a little while longer...

As if looking for a means of escape, James began to read a magazine that lay open on top of a desk, justifying it with the excuse that it might contain some momentously important message for him.  It was a small magazine—most likely a small, local publication.

[Located in the center of Silent Hill is the town’s major tourist attraction, Toluca Lake.  However, this beautiful, clear lake has another side as well.  Though it may sound like the silly folktales or ghost stories that are all too commonly found circulating through old towns like these, this legend is actually true.

On a foggy November day in 1918, the Little Baroness, a s.h.i.+p filled with tourists, failed to return to port.  A couple hours later, after the fog had cleared, no sign of the s.h.i.+p was anywhere to be found.  In fact, the fog that day was so thick that the s.h.i.+p couldn’t even be seen as it set off from sh.o.r.e.  Because of this, it’s impossible to know what became of the vessel, or how it went missing.

An article written by a newspaper reporter at the time simply says, “It probably sunk for some reason.”  Despite frantic search efforts by the police, not a single piece of the s.h.i.+p was ever recovered.  Likewise, the bodies of the crew and the 14 pa.s.sengers, let alone any survivors, have never been found.  While it’s certainly not an impossible story, without evidence it’s difficult to determine whether or not it’s really true.

In 1938, an even stranger incident occurred.  Unlike the Little Baroness, this s.h.i.+p was found.  Or rather, only the s.h.i.+p was found.  Not a single soul was found on board.  With the vessel completely undamaged, there was no reason for anyone to have jumped overboard.  Much like the Mary Celeste in 1872 and the Carroll Deering in 1921, the pa.s.sengers vanished as if they were never there.  At the time, the prevailing theory was that a ma.s.s suicide had been carried out, but this seems highly unlikely considering it was nothing more than a tourist boat.

More recently, another unexplainable event happened only six years ago.  In order to verify the truth of the legend surrounding the lake, in an act that was in actuality nothing more than a dare, two students went missing after venturing out onto the lake in a small boat.  We’ve had the good fortune to have met with a young man who is familiar with this incident, being a cla.s.smate of the missing high school students.  He claims to have been present on the morning the two set off.  However, he believes that the boat was capsized.

“Either way, that lake really creeps me out.”  He shared with us one of the ghost stories he’d heard about the lake.  “People say that if you try to go out on Toluca Lake at midnight, your engine will die and you’ll be stranded until morning.”

Truly, many corpses rest at the bottom of this lake.  Their bony hands reach up towards the boats that pa.s.s overhead, perhaps reaching for their comrades.  It gives a whole new meaning to the townspeople’s invitation to tourists to “Come and visit our beautiful lake.”

“I personally don’t believe in any of it, but...I know that there has to be evidence of some kind that’s yet to be discovered...”]

James closed the magazine.  It was just an article from one of those third-rate paranormal gossip publications—the kind that are always going on about UFOs, Bigfoot, the Bermuda triangle, and all kinds of conspiracy theories.  What a bunch of nonsense.  But still...it made James wonder.

I really don’t think this is a message from a doctor.  So does that mean the contents of this article are just another hallucination?  Or did events like these really happen in Silent Hill?  Anyone with an ounce of common sense would think these stories to be impossible.  Boats disappearing from the lake, getting a letter from someone who’s supposed to be dead...  But if these impossible things turn out to be true...

James exited the room, filled with new determination.  Doubting his own sanity like that was depressing, but necessary.  He had no choice but to gamble on that possibility.

In the hallway, almost directly in front of the waiting room, was a hole covered by a heavy iron lid.  Another hole that, of course, he’d have to jump into in order to proceed.  First one hole, then another, then another, and then yet another...  How amusing.  James smiled. Whether this is a product of my delusions or the hidden secrets of Silent Hill, I guess I’ve got no choice but to see it though till the end...

-3-

It seemed the deeper James descended into the prison, the more decayed and ruined the surroundings became.  Here, the grimy walls were stained in various dark, reddish shades, and the floor was littered with broken gla.s.s and other debris.  The small s.p.a.ce looked like it had been thoroughly destroyed.  On the far wall was an elevator, its door sitting wide open.  So this place goes deeper still...  He didn’t expect something this far underground in the ruins of an old prison to still be working, but it was worth trying.

Once aboard, James pressed a b.u.t.ton, and the doors, which turned out to be metal bars rather than standard elevator doors, slid closed.  The elevator began to descend.  Looking through the bars as the elevator seemed to endlessly fall, he saw a bare stone wall pa.s.s by, like the shaft was carved out of bedrock.

He finally arrived at a pa.s.sageway that looked more like the inside of a building.  Compared to previous floors, this place was in good shape.  Even the plaster that clung to the walls was intact rather than scattered across the floor in ripped-up pieces.  Along the way, the pa.s.sage branched off into many other directions, each leading to a dead end with stairs leading further down.  It was starting to look like a maze.  A maze of the mind?  Or a maze to bewilder the one who would try to uncover the mysteries of Silent Hill?

James took a careful look down one of the staircases, climbing all the way to the floor below.  As he stepped into the hallway, he heard the distinctive sound of metal rattling underfoot, and the solid floor turned into a wire mesh.  More troubling were the sounds of the creatures moving underneath the wire.  They were the same monsters who attacked him from under the floor in the tunnel on Saul Street.  Instinctively, James turned to retreat back up the stairs.  He recalled how those things had given him h.e.l.l when he tried running through the tunnel.  Even now, his feet were still sore after that dangerous encounter.

Something was approaching from the depths of the murky pa.s.sage.  Something with footsteps heavy enough to make a violent clash as it walked over the chain-link floor.  Against his better judgment, James turned to see the grim, giant figure emerge into the light.  It was the red pyramid monster.  There was no sound of a knife being dragged across the floor.  Instead, the creature wielded a long, thick spear.  It was exactly like the painting back in the historical society...

James was trembling with fear.  The mere thought of being impaled by that spear filled him with a sweet terror, stronger even than the feelings that still haunted him of hatred and vengeance for Maria’s death.  Turning around, he dashed back up the stairs and into the hallway, sprinting as fast as his feet could carry him until he reached another set of stairs.  The intense dread of the perusing monster was like a torch held to his back, only encouraging him to run faster.  James had no idea how far he continued through the labyrinth.  He just had to escape, no matter where this path took him.  Whether that destination was heaven or h.e.l.l was something only G.o.d knew.

James advanced blindly though the maze.  Any monsters foolish enough to stand in his way were blown away with a rifle shot.  Before long, the red pyramid monster seemed to have fallen behind, but he didn’t stop running.  Running down stairs, more stairs, and even longer stairs until he found himself in an unexpected place.  It was a room, separated in half by iron bars.  On the other side of the bars was a cell.  And in that cell, sat a woman.

“Maria!” James could hardly believe his eyes.  She was killed by the pyramid monster in the hospital.  He saw it.  So how could she be sitting in front of him now?  “Maria, you really are alive!  Aren’t you injured?  Are you alright?”

“I’m quite alright, thank you,” Maria shrugged.  “Of course, now I’m stuck in here.  But fortunately, I wasn’t hurt.”

“I’m so glad you’re okay.  When you couldn’t make it to the elevator I...I thought for sure you were dead.”

“Elevator?  What are you talking about?”  Maria tilted her head, a puzzled expression on her face.

James was just as confused as she was.  “It wasn’t even that long ago.  Don’t you remember?”

Maria sighed.  “James, honey, did something happen to you after we got separated in that long tunnel...?  Perhaps you’re mistaking me for someone else?  You always were so forgetful.  I wonder if you remember that time at the hotel...”

Separated?  Always were?  “Maria, what are you saying?”

“You were sure you packed everything, but you forgot that videotape.  I wonder if it’s still there...?”

“How do you know about that?  That’s...”  James was bewildered.  Those were memories that belonged only to him and Mary...  Surely this was more than just a woman’s intuition at work here.

“I’m not your Mary.”

“Right.  You’re Maria...aren’t you?”

“I can be whatever you want me to be.  Either way, I’m me.  I’m alive.  I’m real.  See?” Maria’s pale arms reached from between the bars and caressed James’s cheek.  Her fingertips were soft, warm, smooth, and like smoke.  James was transfixed.  “Hey, come and get me.  I can’t do anything through these bars, much less talk any sense into you.”

“I’ll be right there.  Just stay where you are.”  As much as he didn’t want to leave her for even a second, James tore himself away, a.s.suring her again and again that he would come back for her.  He left Maria behind and returned to the stairs.  There was another entrance to Maria’s cell, but he had no clue how to get to it in this maze.  Either way, he’d have to find his way around this place sooner or later.  As for breaking down the door and freeing Maria...  He’d figure that out when he got there.

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