Silent Hill 3 - Chapter 29

God...

A benevolent hand, wanting only for our happiness…

…or one of cruelty, weaving the web of our demise?

For a long time now, Douglas had searched. His weary eyes, staring beyond the veil of night. The answer, falling through his fingers no matter how tightly he grasped the wheel.

“That guy, Vincent…Do you really trust him?”

Heather had only sighed at the question, the long, drawn breath of one resigned to fate.

Not a word had passed between them since, this winding road, their only guide. From the veil rose the countless forms, these lonesome shadows illuminated for an instant before passing forever into the dark. A haunting procession, at the fringe of his dreams.

Douglas cast his eyes to wake, exhaustion, seeping in. Only trees. Countless in shape and form, their branches tearing at the void above. A godless sky, raining it’s blessing on a godless world.

And still he searched, for reason, some meaning to all of this. As his eyes fell on the silent passenger beside him, it was then, Douglas realized, Heather was too.

He could see it so clearly now, in the eyes of that girl. Numb. Lost to the world around her, searching for something that could never be found. She stared and stared out that window, through the passing trees and swirling fog. He could see it in the emptiness of her reflection. Feel this silence between them, maddening…

Hear the patter of droplets at the hood, stirring him to wake.

“It started raining…”

Douglas sighed at last, welcoming the release from thought. Heather remained still as he looked to her, with a sort of disappointment in his eyes.

“Are you sleeping?”

“I’m awake.”

Her breath, barely a rasp above the rains.

“You cold?”

Douglas frowned at the way Heather held herself so tightly, unsure of how to act. How long it had been since someone else had rode with him…

Those restless eyes, reminding him of times he’d wished to forget.

And perhaps she was too. Something told him Heather wasn’t shivering from the chill, her body curled against the side, as if to cry on the shoulder of the road. This widening gap between them, despite the spacious confines of this grandpa-mobile of a car. This silence…

“What’s the deal with Silent Hill anyway?” Douglas spoke to himself, “It used to be a nice, quiet little town, but now...”

“You’ve been there?”

How could he forget; the sigh of Heather’s voice surprised him, her question stirring the well of unpleasant memories.

“Once. On a missing persons case.”

Douglas’ eyes wandered through this ghostly night, even now, uncertain of just what he had seen within the fog…

“Never did find ‘em.”

How could he be so damn casual? A husband and his ailing wife, vanishing without a trace…  The dread he had felt weighing on his shoulders as he sleuthed among the barren streets, a shiver down his spine at the sight of those slack faces leering at him from the safety of their homes. The skies of ashen grey, the earth smothered with it… Silent. So Silent. In the calm of Toluca Lake, his trail came to an end, reflecting only his grim expression on its glassy surface.

“I tell you…that’s one screwed up town!” Douglas spat, his voice rife with disgust, “In my line of work, you hear a lot of nasty rumors.”

“I was born and raised there.”

Her words, sending him down the slippery slope.

“Sorry.” Douglas sighed as he threw an apologetic glance. “I didn’t mean to offend you.”

“No offence taken.”

The girl simply sighed, silence settling in once more. Only the patter of rain, the whine of the windshield’s wiper to ease Douglas’ strain, though something was not quite right in the back of his mind…

“Anyway, I thought you grew up in Portland?”

Hours of detective work, for nothing? Heather gave no answer, a sheen of sweat trickling from her brow.  

“What’s wrong?” Douglas spared a look of concern. “You feeling sick?”

Way of putting things lightly. Poor girl looked like hell…there was no two ways about it. Heather winced at the sound of his voice, a trembling hand clasped at her skull.

“My head is pounding.” Her voice, strained beneath the pain, “Like the worst hangover ever.”

“Maybe you’re carsick.”

Nice one Grandpa.

“No.” Heather shook her head, “I’m just trying to remember.”

“My childhood.”

She breathed at last, her wandering eyes finding focus.

“Something…terrible happened in Silent Hill.”

Douglas perked a brow.

“You mean the fire 17 years ago?”

A question without an answer; her eyes lost to him once again.

“I remember hearin’ it through the grapevine. Lots of old homes went up in flames, the whole town’s heritage gone in a single night. It even reached the coal mines…they say to this day, the abandoned shafts burn beneath the streets.”

Douglas brought a thoughtful hand to the scruff of his chin, enjoying his reminiscing.

“Some thought arson, but nothing ever came out of it.”

Though knowing their destination, his words soon turned grim.

“Worst part was that little girl, caught in the flames.” Heather’s expression darkened as Douglas continued,“Poor kid didn’t have a chance…heard she died. Burned alive…”

“She should have died. But she didn’t.”

The finality of her words chilled the air.

“That girl was an offering…a sacrifice by her own mother.”

Douglas furrowed his brow with dismay.

“That’s crazy…!”

She merely nodded, looking on into the rainy night.

“Maybe so, but it worked.”

“Alchemilla...I…”

Heather paused, as if to grasp the meanings, her expression suddenly bewildered.

“The girl was kept at the brink of death, never alive, but never dead to the pain in the basement of that hospital.”

“Why would anyone do something like that?”

Heather swallowed, her voice, trembling.

“To fill her heart with hatred.”

“Hatred?”

She nodded, those distant eyes, lost in thoughts she could not understand.

“You see, that girl had special powers. Since the day she was born, they hated her, she was an outcast.”

Her fists clenched at the thought, a sort of anger rising in her voice.

“Her classmates called her a witch. Not a day went by that she didn’t suffer some kind of bruise or bullying. Even from her own mother…”

Heather hissed, the pain tingling though her fingers, a fresh stain of blood seeping at the bandage surface.

“Happy people can be so cruel.”

Douglas looked on grimly, his attention divided between the road and this confused girl beside him.

“That’s what her mother said. Why the girl had to suffer…”

Though these alien words continued, as if she herself could not stop the flow.

“So that a God…would be born. One that knew the pain of being human, the pain we feel every day…”

Douglas narrowed his eyes, a scowl spread across his face.

“Sounds more like a Devil to me.”

Heather didn’t seem to notice.

“It festered inside her, like a cancer. Hate. Consuming her mind, her body…”

And then she trailed off, nothing more than a whisper. Douglas could swear he saw a tear wiped from her bloodshot eyes.

“It was around that time Dad first came to Silent Hill.”

But all at once, her demeanor softened, the strain once present on her words, fading away.

“He had a wife back then. She was kind, compassionate…but she couldn’t have children of her own. An Illness…killing her slowly. During their trip, the two found an abandoned infant at the shores of Toluca Lake. It was like the child had come from thin air…a blessing, meant just for them.”

This news came as a shock to him.

“The baby was you?”

A silent moment passed. Heather frowning, as if unsure of it herself.

“They were a happy family, but nothing lasts forever.” She continued with sadness in her voice, “The illness his wife battled with for years finally overcame her. After she died, Dad wanted to escape the grief, to go to a place where he could be at peace with himself…”

Douglas knew the answer before it came.

“He returned to Silent Hill.”

“But something happened.” Heather cut him off, with the sudden emotion, “Something that couldn’t be stopped…”

“He woke to find himself alone. His daughter, nowhere in sight.”

Douglas couldn’t begin to imagine the horror the man must have felt. To search through those barren streets, crying out the name of a loved one without answer…

“Only shadows were left, in his every waking moment as he pressed through the darkness that consumed the town.”

Her eyes, unwavering, holding him in a frightening gaze.

“The same darkness that tried to consume you. And me.”

Douglas frowned inwardly, what strength than man must have possessed…and as Heather continued, he could feel the passion in her words, not a single doubt in her mind of the truth.

“At every turn, every door it tried to hold him, keep him from what he’d lost. But he kept going, pushing harder, deeper – “

“Until he found her. What was left of her.”

“That’s when it all came full circle. He saw his daughter – both of them…watching him. The loving eyes of the girl he’d raised as his own, and another, her stare burning with hate, her skin blistered and scorched.”

“He didn’t even know. This half-a-girl…what she would become. All this time, he’d been a pawn in a devil’s game.

“And a devil was born that day…”

Douglas couldn’t believe his ears.

“A Devil? You mean with horns and a pitchfork?”

Heather caught herself, tending to her throbbing skull.

“I know it sounds crazy, I’m not even sure what I’m saying…”

Her eyes, intense as she looked on the thing clasped so tightly in her hands.

“But…I know it’s all true.”

There were no doubts, her fingers, tracing the pages of the bloodstained writer’s tablet.

“I’m living proof.”

“What do you mean by living proof?”

He narrowed his eyes, as if to peer inside that confused mind of hers.

“I think Claudia is trying to do the same thing again.” Heather began, her voice little more than a sigh, “And I’ve been chosen as the sacrifice…”

There was no horror. It was just a matter-of-fact.

“You’ve got some kind of power in you too?”

Douglas questioned at last, the niggling suspect at the back of his mind coming into the light. He knew his limitations, his age – but how a seventeen-some-odd girl could get through all of this, endure this kind of pain…it was more than just the luck of youth. As he looked to Heather, he could swear he saw the glint of fire in her eyes, the fires of life spurring her onward, though her body battered and beaten. A fire that had long since died within him. Somehow, she seemed aware of this strength, whether a gift of her father or something less than real, her eyes searched deep inside for the answer.

It never came.

“Dad watched the girl vanish, replaced by what could only be called a God.”

Heather continued, a strange look on her face, as if grasping the implication of her own words.

“But…he could see it. The girl he’d known inside of it, begging him, pleading….”

Her fists, clenching tight.

“To die. She…she wanted to die.”

Insanity. Pure insanity. Douglas floundered; he didn’t know what to believe, it sounded so crazy… The stories of that damned town, the disappearances, the murders… all because of that? The last, desperate struggles of a child…?

“In the end, that god was killed by a single person.”

Heather looked on to the changing landscape, the trees giving way to empty fields and barren skies shrouded in black rains, as if searching for what she’d lost.

“My father, Harry Mason.”

“I guess it wasn’t much of a god if it could be killed
by a human being.”

If there were any beast on earth to fear, it was man. But killing a “god”… he’d have busted a gut only hours before. Somehow, it wasn’t funny anymore.

“After the god died, the girl reappeared. She was holding a baby in her arms… Before she died, she gave the baby to my father.”

A strange moment passed. A realization, dawning on like minds. As Douglas looked on, surrounded by the raining chaos of this night, he could see so clearly now the troubled young woman before him. Her arms, clasped beneath her bosom as if holding a child of her own.

“He loved me just like I was his very own daughter… Even though he didn’t know who or what I was.”

Falling, like the rain, the weight of this truth, so heavy on those shoulders. Heather’s eyes, widening with the horror of her realization. The tragedy of what she’d lost, so much greater than before.

“It was so sudden...”

Douglas could not look away, his prying eyes on Heather as she laid her bloodied hand to the crimson pattern at her Vest’s collar – blood, Harry’s blood, and all that remained.

“I never had a chance... to tell you...”

Her words, so sweet. The aches of his conscience, chiding him to look away.

“To tell you... how happy you made me.”

These words, too good for him to hear, this sadness, for a man of such a measure he’d never come close.

“Nobody’s going to cry over my grave…”

Douglas cast the phrase about his thoughts. He asked himself if he was really satisfied with such an end. Living with this weight on his shoulders… This burden, this road before him, was all that mattered now. With only the thrum of the engine as comfort, Douglas set his course.





“...It’s too damn heavy.”