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Silent Hill

Silent Hill

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Published by twingle93

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Published by: twingle93 on Mar 03, 2013
Copyright:Attribution Non-commercial


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 Silent Hill 
 He clambered forward, pulling himself up onto the cool, polished stone, and knew that he wasmad beyond salvation, or had died and was trapped in some terrible netherworld. He wasbeneath the earth in final darkness: there could be no voices, no phantoms. There would be nolight making the steps gleam before him like moonlit alabaster. He was running away from something, through a massive dark cavern filled with obsidian lightsand sharp edges. Reflections and scattered light made it impossible for him to see where thewalls were, and he ran into them over and over again, covering his exposed skin with painful cuts that oozed blood onto the floor. He caught glimpses of his pursuers: small, gray children, perhaps four years old, who appeared as washed-out albino-like cave animals. Their eyes were sewn shut with thick cord, making him think of shoelaces. He heard no sound as they chased him. They did not communicate or look at him, but they always seemed to know where he was. Although he stayed ahead of them for the moment, he could not get away. Even if he escaped, something else would get him eventually. He was alone in a hostile world— hostile universe. Whether he lived another ten minutes or ten days, he would probably never seeanother human being, would have only rasping, homicidal monstrosities like these for companyuntil the inevitable end.Countless shadows passed by, his path revealed by the light still gleaming from between histeeth, refracting off crimson windshields and broken glass, the carnage everywhere he looked. As he ran, he could swear he treaded on flesh and bone, a disgusting crack beneath his feet, his shoes slick with fluid and ichor... For the sake of his sanity, he didn’t dare think of it. A gore soaked wall rose before him - a dead end.Turning, he shined the light upon the bestial creatures as they wrestled their way through thetwisted metal, the fragments stripping flesh as they went. There was nowhere to run - nothing todefend himself with - his gun clicking on empty. Finally they caught him. There were too many of them to fight off. Ten or twenty strong, theymobbed him and suddenly he was being carried through a secret passage. There was a table at the end, in a rough cruciform shape, made of matte-black metal with nylon straps. The children forced him onto it and strapped him down, immobilizing him. He felt a momentary sense of relief, thinking this is about as bad as it can get. Then they all looked at him, and he somehowknew they could see him through their sewn eyelids. They grinned, revealing mouths full of wickedly-sharp shark teeth.They began to feed on him, swallowing huge chunks of flesh whole.
There is an atmosphere of unutterable loneliness that haunts any ruin—a feeling particularlyevident in those places once given over to the lighter emotions. Wander over the littered groundsof an abandoned amusement park and feel the overwhelming presence of desolation. Flimsy booths with awnings tattered in the wind, rotting heaps of sun-bleached papier-mache.Crumbling timbers of a roller coaster thrust upward through the jungle of weeds and debris—likeribs of some titanic unburied skeleton. The wind blows colder here; the sun behind the fog seemseven dimmer. Ghosts of laughter, lost strains of raucous music can almost be heard. Speak, andyour voice sounds strangely loud—and yet curiously smothered. Or tour a neglected formalgarden, with its termite-riddled arbors and gazebo. The lily pond is drained, choked with weeds
and refuse. Only a few flowers or shrubs poke miserably through the rank undergrowth. Denseclots of weeds and vines overrun the paths and statuary. Here and there a shrub or rambling rosehas grown into a wild, misshapen tangle. The flowers offer anemic blooms, where no handgathers, no eye admires. No birds sing in that uncanny hush.Such places are lairs of inconsolable gloom. After the brighter spirits have departed, shadows of despair and oppression assume their place. The area has been drained of its ability to support anyfurther light emotion, and now, like weeds on eroded soil, only the darker sentiments can takeroot and flourish. These places are best left to the loneliness of their grief...The ever-present mists and forbidding silence makes all endeavor seem shallow and pointless.The area is flooded by a silence as vast and deep as the ocean itself, a silence in whichundercurrents of nervousness and suspense can effortlessly drown anyone in fear. The sense of forbidding that hangs over this empty place is a more insidious enemy than anything composedof flesh and blood could ever be.It appears as a ghost town, as little signs of activity can be seen in the deserted streets or shattered windows of its forsaken structures. It is only when someone stands amid the ruins thathe/she feels alien eyes upon him/her, or notices a shadow move at the edge of his vision. To look upon the ruined buildings and littered streets is to see the discarded hopes and ancient fears of tragic pasts. Everything in Silent Hill is broken and forlorn with sunlight a foreign object withinits boundaries. Even the moon with its dark secrets has departed from the sky, and only fogdominates the scene.To accent the unsettling environment, the town’s canyon-like streets possess weird acoustics. Arustle on one side of the city might sound like it is right beside the listener, while a growl next tohim might sound like it’s coming from a mile away. Rain, snow and darkness impairs vision,allowing monsters to attack them with ease.There are actually two sides to Silent Hill, as if two realities are pulsing in and out of perception.One is covered in a bright, white mist that moves through and over Silent Hill, but other than thatit looks relatively normal; cars are still parked, storefront windows are still intact, and things ingeneral seem mostly undisturbed. The exceptions being the pitted chasms and crevices of mist-filled darkness found at the town’s edges and bisecting certain streets. These collapsed bridgesand the massive chasms surround the town, preventing escape — as if some powerful force has been trying to isolate it. The chasms are visible every few blocks, underlying the streets like agrid. They sometimes extend thousands of feet down. Steamy mists cover the chasm bottom,their thick gray surface in grim waves, rolling and breaking against the volcanic cliffs. Desolateand dim, the settlement is surrounded by an impenetrable fog, thick enough that one cannot seeseveral feet ahead. The buildings are dirty and decrepit, the vehicles unworking regardless of condition. Even at noon, the fog captures most of the rays of sunlight, leaving the entire towntrapped in a fog-bound abattoir. No visible indication of why or how the town was abandoned isvisible anywhere. Technological devices for transportation and communication stop functioning,while radios and walkie-talkies give off faint static. At times, the static grows stronger, until it isimpossible for the ears to not pick up the cacophony. Silent Hill to the soul who hears this, asthis is a sure indication that the blasphemous beings that roam this town are nearby, patrolling
the streets with a dismal gray sky hovering overhead. The air is warm, too warm for snow,despite the cool, almost cold, breeze whipping by. Snowflakes drift down; not many; theydescend lazily, except when the wind gusts, and they seem like fragments of burnt sky, cold bitsof ash. They evaporate almost instantly if caught, strangely not even leaving moisture behind.Everything is abandoned, barely working, and damp.The other is a nightmarish reflection of the first town, each of its buildings and locationsrecreated with a hellish twist. In the mildest cases, the basic lay out of the building or locationremains the same. The floor will remain basically the same, but it will become heavily soiled andstained, pock marked with blood and rust. Tiles are sometimes out of place, torn from the floor and strewn about. Blood and rust stain the walls as well, but they are usually further transformed.Typically, they are covered with something out of place, even on top of the blood and rust.Sometimes, the walls are completely covered with padding, other times, sheets or tarps aredraped on the walls haphazardly, as though the building were abandoned quickly. Besidesstrange coverings and blood and rust, other manifestations of decay appear on the walls, as theyare sometimes cracked and crumbling. Everything here is dark, derelict, bug-infested, creaky andconcealing unthinkable horrors. These general transformations are hardly the whole of it.Other times, bottomless pits swallow up parts of the structure that had been there in the 'normal'world. Nonfunctional escalators run into an endless dark. A wire mesh walkway suspendstravelers above a black chasm. What awaits at the bottom of these pits is unknown and best leftundiscovered. The sky is a sheet of pitch black without moon or stars, and from which a lightwarm rain falls instead of the cold snow of this town’s misty counterpart. In some places, walls,floors, and ceilings take on a fleshy appearance. When the transition occurs the windmills,machinery and other structures rise out of nowhere, and the general impression is that thenightmare town is just a speck in the middle of an infinite void, in its own separate reality as if nothing existed except for the metal grid and what is attached to it: nothing but empty space.Besides stained floors and ceilings, other disturbing vistas appear. Windows disappear, or  become heavily barred or boarded, becoming impassable. Escape is made that much harder withtheir disappearance. In the worst cases, the floor and ceiling are composed entirely of flesh thatconvulses and bleeds. The normal geography of structures stops applying, as even new featuresare added. These new places are dominated with rust and normal surfaces are replaced with castiron grills and riveted steel. The air smells sour, and faintly dirty, like one might expect in thecenter of an industrial town, where smoke and cinders fall and make each breath lifeless, and potent with disease. It is heavy and humid and thick on the lungs. It even feels wrong, in somesixth-sense way that is difficult to explain correctly. It isn’t just the air that is heavy, everythingis heavy. As if gravity itself is stronger here, the ever-present force pulls downward with greater strength and intensity here.Visitors to one town can cross over into and out of the two towns against their will, appearing inthat location’s counterpart in the other reality. Distorted sirens in the distance mark the transition between the misty town and the nightmare version of the town, playing every time someoneshifts between them.
The Fog:
In any world, mists and fog can plague travelers, blurring senses, concealing terrors,and leading ships to water graves.

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