My Dark Restless Dreams

A novel based on "Silent Hill 2" By Gregory S John

"... the only things that are judged and burned in Silent Hill are the parts of your life you won't let go. Your memories, your attachments, your regrets and sins; they are all judged and burned away in this realm. But that doesn't have to be the end. So if you're afraid of facing your judgment and are holding on to the parts that are being burned; you'll see devils trying to tear everything away from you. But, if you've accepted the truth and made peace with your judgment than these devils become angels, freeing you from your pain."

-Ernest from My Dark Restless Dreams

James,
In my dark restless dreams, I see that town, Silent Hill.
You promised me you'd take me there again someday.
But you never did. Well, I'm alone there now...
In our "special place"... Waiting for you...

INTRODUCTION:

Three years ago, James, a proud and loving husband, found his life terribly shattered when his wife Mary was stricken with a fatal disease. Although desperately ill his beloved wife longed to return to the vacation spot of their youth nestled in the sleepy little resort town of Silent Hill. Consuming her quickly the disease prevented any chance of that visit, leaving James alone and beside himself with grief.

Since that time, James has spent much of his time trying to forget, and learning to accept his great loss, just as most people would expect of a deeply grieved husband. However, something inside of him won't let go of her, the person he loved so deeply gone forever, and for James there may never be a way to move on.
Now, James has received a disturbing letter. On the outside is simply written, "Mary." The message chills James to the very core, for it seems to be written in Mary's own handwriting.

As insane as it seems, James is filled with the notion that the one true love of his life could be alive and awaiting him in Silent Hill. Grief, of course, will cause the most rational of people to cling to irrational hope. So hopping into his old Dodge sedan, he drives until he reaches a dead-end just a few miles south of the town. From there, he must walk into the neighborhood. Seeking a reunion with a loved one thought lost, James might instead find damnation and retribution...

PROLOGUE:

James stared dumbfounded at his feet.

"Mr. Sunderland?" A voice asked him "Do you understand what I just explained to you?"

A cold chill ran up James's spine, and he began to tingle all over. He paused for a moment then responded in a low hoarse voice.

"You must be mistaken. M,my wife has never even had the chicken pox. You should run some more tests."

A doctor in a white coat fiddled uncomfortably with his name tag and leaned back in a finely leathered chair.

"Mr. Sunderland, I know this is extremely difficult. But we must start treatment immediately."

James eyes fixed on the floor, he didn't speak.

The doctor riffled through an open drawer on his desk.

"I'll need you to sign some papers and then you'll have to work out your insurance coverage with the billing department... Mr. Sunderland, do you understand what I just said?"

"Mr. Sunderland?"

"MR. SUNDERLAND?"

A loud clap of thunder jolted James Sunderland out of a deep sleep. He sat up in his plush blue lounge chair, and tossed the light green blanket off of him. Mumbling a few curse words he sat up, throwing the lever on the side, lowering the leg rest. He stared out the window, it was late, or early, either way it was raining hard. He paused smelling the air. It smelled like her; that sweet mixture of fabric softener and subtle hint of perfume. He glanced down at the blanket lying on the floor, picking it up he raised it to his face and inhaled deeply. It still smelled like her after all these years.

He still felt a little tightness in his head; those pills the doctor had given him seemed to be wearing off. He reached over to the lamp stand next to him, an open bottle of prescription pills stood on top of a few pieces of paper.

"I take these pills every day, and every day just seems longer and longer." James thought "I wonder what day it even is."

Grabbing the bottle of pills, he dumped a few into his large hands. Glancing at them for a moment carefully contemplating the events of the day, he hurls them across the room with a deep frown.

"What the hell good are these pills if I can't remember a damn thing?"

James laid his eyes upon the pieces of paper lying on the lamp stand, previously covered by the now discarded bottle. One was folded neatly in threes and rested next to an opened envelope. James paused momentarily, staring at it. Slowly he carefully picked up the letter and began to read it once more.

"This has to be some sick joke", he thought. "But who would do such a thing. Still there's no denying that this was Mary's writing. But she died three years ago when that damned illness took her." James checked the postmark on the envelope; it was postmarked three days ago.

"This can't be right. I'm not...crazy, am I?"

His mind wandered back to the town of Silent Hill; the place where Mary and James had honeymooned ten years ago. It was such a peaceful and relaxing resort. He recalled how much Mary loved it there, and had considered having her buried in that town.

"No, she's dead." James reminded himself shaking his groggy head. "Still" he reasoned "someone was behind this letter, and I'm going to find out who." Perhaps this person was indeed waiting for him in Silent Hill, and maybe perhaps as insane as it may sound, perhaps Mary was waiting for him there too.

James rose slowly from his chair. Pulled on his boots, grabbed a Pepsi from the fridge. On the kitchen table several items were laid out. An old tourist map of Silent Hill, a battery powered pocket radio, and a road map. Finishing his drink, James threw on his dark green jacket and grabbed his keys. It was a long eight hour drive to Silent Hill.

CHAPTER 1 A Nightmare Begins

James Sunderland pulled his dodge to a complete stop.

"Crap!" He growled under his breath.

"So the old guy at the gas station was right." James thought to himself. "The overpass has been closed off." His mind wandered back to the earlier conversation, a half hour down the winding wooded road.

James exited his vehicle and slowly stood up, stretching. He took a close look at the overpass which ran down into the valley where the former resort town of Silent Hill stood. Boards and caution signs covered the entryway, it was impassible. James shook his head, thinking back to his conversation at the gas station 15 minutes ago.

"This can't be possible. Ten years ago Silent Hill was a bustling lakeside community." Carefully observing the situation, James noticed a large sign off to the side of the road.

SILENT HILL UNDER REMODLING/CLOSED FOR SEASON

The sign was dated three years ago. "That was the same day when Mary died." James thought to himself as a cold disconcerting chill ran up his spine. "Is this just a crazy coincidence?" He looked over his shoulder. Behind him, about 50 yards way, was a small rest stop, now like everything else on this road abandoned.

Carefully parking his car, James began to make his way towards the old dirt covered building. He noticed a light fog rolling in. "Hopefully there's a restroom there."

Winding his way around the side he found some rust covered and dented restroom doors, James carefully entered closing his eyes and remembering how this place used to be. However now, a few broken windows provided enough light so that he could make full use of the urinals. They didn't flush. The place was musty, bird droppings and mud covered the old tile floor. The mirrors above the old clogged sinks were cracked and chipped, smeared with dried dirt from the years of neglect. This place was nothing like how it was when he and Mary had stopped here a decade ago, James observed.

James stopped and glanced at himself in the dirty old mirror, he rubbed his face and eyes, they were deep and dark. "Mary could you really be in this town?" He exited the restroom and pulled out his old tourist map of Silent Hill, he studied it carefully for many minutes.

"There must be another way in." He thought. He noticed a small hiking trail that led from the east side of town through some of the old farmlands surrounding the valley and ending in an abandoned park nearby. He took careful note of the route before folding the map and placing it back in his pants pocket. "Well looks like my only way in."

James gathered up his provisions. The battery powered radio, his Silent Hill map, a pocket flashlight, and a photo of Mary. He stood over a large embankment near his car that ran down into Lake Toluca, gazing down into the lush countryside, it was an overcast day. From his vantage point James could just make out the run down pavilions of the park nearby where the trail supposedly began. Taking a deep breath James began his walk towards the trail that would hopefully lead him towards some answers.

The trail from the park was winding and long, dirt and gravel covered by fallen autumn leaves dominated the pathway. Sparse trees and rolling hills surrounded him as James made his way down towards Lake Toluca. The weather was getting colder, and the fog began to rise becoming dense and thick. It rolled quickly as James made his way through the lonely countryside, consuming all but thirty feet of vision in front of him. The thickness of this strange fog dampened the ambient sound around him, and all James could hear was the soft yet determined crunch of his own footsteps. It was still late afternoon, but the sun seemed to be swallowed up by the overcast sky and dense mist.

As James made his way through the long desolate trail, remnants of old human inhabitation dotted the path. Here and there he would make out the shape of an old rusted wheelbarrow long since abandoned and forgotten, or an old rotted shed half fallen in on itself covered in weeds and vines. He passed an old stone well with an ancient timber crank, a few ruins of a broken stone fence made its feint presence known above the mossy earth slowly devouring it.

The fog became denser as he moved further down the trail. James stopped for a moment checking his map, suddenly spinning around, the sound of rushing footsteps filling his ears. He froze listening intently to the sounds around him, the footsteps becoming louder and faster... then stopping. James squinted his eyes, making out any strange shapes that might appear in the thick fog surrounding him.

Nothing. A bit rattled, he slowly turned around and began to make his way down the overgrown path once more. Moving down the endless trail, he would on occasion hear those footsteps closing in, each time stopping to scan the length of his vision. Always, nothing. He wandered further, seemingly growing farther from the comfort of the abandoned highway and further into this surreal and lonesome country. James became accustomed to the startling noises around him, and could swear he heard the faint gurgled noises of growling shadows. The hairs on his neck would stand up. But always as he paused to anxiously search around him, nothing. He picked up his pace.

James stayed in deep thought, taking his mind off of the strange sounds around him. "Our 'special place'... What could she mean? This whole town was our special place. Does she mean the park on the lake? We spent the whole day there. Just the two of us, staring at the water."

Drifting off to the day long ago spent at the lakeside park, long lost memories were all he had to keep him company. "We spent all day there, just you and me. You were so beautiful, full of life." James paused once more checking the old tourist map. He was still quite a distance from the town. Carefully observing it, scanning the borders of Lake Toluca for the old park he and Mary had visited so long ago; he fixed his stern gaze on the only lakeside park marked on his crinkled tourist map.

"Rosewater Park. So that's what it was called. It was so long ago, I never even bothered to remember its name. Could Mary really be there? Is she really alive...waiting for me?" A tired sigh escaped from James' lips. "It isn't sane. But still I have to know for sure... I have to know I'm not crazy." Gently refolding his map, James continued on his endless trek through the countryside.

Rising out from the mist, materializing like a ghost, a large dark image slowly came into focus as James continued on his journey. It was a structure, and ancient structure made of stone and brick. A large rotted wooden cross hung over a dilapidated doorway. The path ran right past it. Carefully concealed under years of vines and foliage a faded sign read. "First Methodist Church of the Brethren. Established 1874. Restored 1969 by Silent Hill Historical Society."

James stared at if reflectively for a moment before continuing once again. He furrowed his brow fighting back an intense angst ridden sneer. "Where was God when that disease took Mary? No one should have to die like that, wasting away to nothing. Losing everything, your strength your will to live, your dignity, while having loved ones watch you dissolve right before their eyes. Having them see you're bitter last days of struggle and anger...until... People don't go quietly and peacefully like they show in the movies, Mary's last days were tormenting.". He paused. "There is no God, or one that is worth worshiping anyway..."

This time the path lead him straight past the church and into an old week covered cemetery. James glanced nervously around. "This can't be right? Did I make a wrong turn somewhere?" James slowed his pace down searching the length of his oppressed vision trying to make out the path he must have lost. He walked in circles searching for the edges of the cemetery, the fog now obscuring any vision longer than twenty feet. But all he could see was the mildewed remains of gravestones.
James spun back around almost tripping himself; the sound of a feint whimper filling his ears. For a moment he stood completely still, uneasy. Cautiously he approached the direction where he had heard the sound. Coming into focus was the silhouetted of a person kneeling on the ground. He had to move in quite close to gain a decent perspective. It was a young woman; in dirty jeans and an old sweater she had her back to James.

"Excuse me, I..."

Startled a loud shrill gasp leapt from her mouth. James carefully picked out the feint flash of a metal instrument in her hands, and backed slowly away.
Pausing, the young woman shyly fixed her eyes up at James.

"I, I'm sorry ...I, I... was just.."

Ignoring the hand James offered her, the young woman quickly hopped to her feet, James studied her carefully. "No, it's okay. I didn't mean to scare you. I just thought you could help me, I'm kind of lost."

"Lost?" The woman responded flashing an odd glance at James.

"Yeah. I'm looking for Silent Hill. Is this the right way?"

"Um, yeah... It's hard to see with this fog, but there's only the one road. You can't miss it."

"Thanks." James turned to go.

"But..."

"Yes?" James paused

"I think you'd better stay away. This uh...this town... there's something... 'wrong' with it. It's kind of hard to explain but..."
James waved his hand dismissively "Okay, I got it. I'll be careful."

"I'm not lying!"

James glanced at the young woman. "No, I believe you. It's just... I guess I really don't care if it's dangerous or not. I'm going to town either way."

"But why?"

"I'm looking for... someone."

"Who, who, who is it?" The young woman shifted uncomfortably.

"Someone... very important to me. I'd do anything if I could be with her again."

The young woman turned away gazing into the distance. "Me too, I'm looking for my momma... I mean my mother. It's been so long since I've seen her. I thought my father and brother were here, but I can't find them either... "Raising her hands to her face she paused. "I'm sorry... it's not your problem."

Looking around him at the neatly lined stones, James wondered if the strange woman was looking in the town or in the cemetery for her family.

"No, I...I hope you find them."

"Yeah, you too."

James walked away, glancing over his shoulder at the strange woman, she stood there staring into the distance, until finally his vision failed him and her image was swallowed up by the dense fog once more.

After a few moments James found the exit out of the back of the cemetery and the path continued from there.

James sat down on an old rusted bench, breathing heavily. He had walked quite a distance to get here. Amazed James marveled at how totally abandoned the town seemed. Not a shred of life anywhere. The stores were run down and boarded up, the houses where empty and weeds were sprouting out of the cracks in the street pavement. A heavy scent of musty earth hung in the air. The fog was as dense as ever.
He leaned back and rubbed his eyes, his legs were sore from his long hike. Fixing on strange smears, barley visible, at the intersection ahead, James furrowed his brow. Curiously he made his way toward the marks.

"Blood? Is this blood?"

Kneeling down James dipped his finger in the asphalts thin crimson streak. A dark figure moving away down the street, disappearing into the mist, caught the attention of James' stern eyes. Startled he froze a cold chill running down his spine.

"That shadow..."

Cautiously James began to move towards the direction in which the dark figure vanished.

Following the mysterious dark figure down several abandoned blocks, James eventually came upon a blocked exit, long boarded up. Stepping through several lose boards, James glanced with caution. "That shadow came here, to this old boarded up underpass. But there is no sign of anyone.' James shined his flashlight around in the shadows, to the right and to the left. Right next to him the beam came to rest on a slumped image leaning against the side of the brick underpass. The body of a man most likely in his late twenties to early thirties. Blood splattered across the wall behind him.

James grimaced. "My god... who could've done this.." Blaring loud and hoarse James's pocket radio flared up with white noise, startling him. He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled it out carefully studying it. "I thought I had this thing turned off"

A slight movement caught his eye; he glanced up as the terrifyingly close sound of a gurgled growl filled his ears. James jumped backwards tripping over an old tool box dropping the flashlight and the radio. The flashlight hit the ground spinning in rapid circles flashing a bright streak across the darkened underpass. In the corner of the narrow closed off chamber, in between spins of light, for an instant at a time, James could make out the image of a featureless black figure, stumbling towards him. His eyes wide in shock, James reached behind him for anything he could grab. His fist closed around an old wooden plank.

Moving awkwardly to his feet, James looked up and was eye to eye with this monstrosity. It had no face, no arms, and stumbled about on two legs. Its mottled black skin stretched tightly over its torso, giving the illusion that its upper limbs were tightly bound within thrashing about. James froze with fear, the thing spewed out a mist from a small mouth like opening on its head. It struck him in the face and burned, the smell was nauseating and James began to feel dizzy. Instinctively, James began to wail away with his makeshift weapon, half blinded James made impact with anything in range. Finally the sensation of impacting on flesh, directed James to the correct target.

With a rare savageness James never knew he had he beat the hideous monster to a bloody pulp. James stared at it, as thick pools of blood began gathering under the creature's broken carcass. James glanced at his arm; it was splattered with crimson fluid.

"Is it dead? What the hell is it? It's not human..."

Picking up his flashlight and wiping the blood off his sleeve, James quickly made his way out of the underpass. About to leave, the sound of static echoed once more through the underpass.

"Oh yeah, the radio... is it broken?"

Carefully fumbling through the darkness, James eventually found the source of the noise, while simultaneously avoiding the monsters oozing body. The radio still seemed to be functioning, after picking it up, giving it a good shake. For a brief moment the static cleared, and a barely audible voice could almost be made out.

Ja… I'm…e…Come…to…ak…el… … …ting… f… you Y… …d… you… c… Jam…

"What the...? I'd better keep it with me. I might need it."

Stumbling in a daze, James made his way out of the enclosed overpass. "The hell is going on in this place? I'd better get moving." Carefully and swiftly James made his way back to the main street of the lonely and deserted town. Always with his ears perched listening for those growling shadows, trembling slightly at the vaguest of shapes moving about in the dense fog. He gripped the wooden plank tightly.

Turning down one side-street; a small stone monument caught his eye. Cracked and badly scratched, only a portion of the engraving could be read.

"Remains of - Swamp
The -ers of land surround-
-i-s monument was orignally
swamp, but was later fil-
Fr-ng ago, t-s
Nicknamed Blood Swamp because
The -ers poured the wat-
-sed to wash the ex-ols
in here.
Perhaps it's fo-hat
Many pe-m to have s-
-n the area.

"Blood Swamp?" James felt a cold chill run up and down his spine. "This area used to be a swamp? I don't recall seeing this here before, it looks pretty old."