Dark Dark Dark
Drifting in the ocean, barely afloat
Lying in delirium in the worn out boat
I'm lost and I don't see no land
The dark-dark water holds me by the hand
Walking in the night streets, taking in the chill
Chasing after highs and living for a thrill
I'm lost but I don't give a damn
The dark-dark hunger takes me by the hand
Looking in the mirror, I see someone else
Wearing flashy smile to cover all the mess
I'm lost inside the memories of life that I had led
The dark-dark shadows fill the empty space inside my head
The Passenger
Everyone in town agreed the lake was haunted, but only I knew what was actually buried beneath it.
The key word being 'was'.
I will never forget the cold water filling my lungs, burning me from inside and out. I will never forget the rage, the dread, the regret that filled my entire being as I was descending into the abyss.
But in that abyss, I felt something else. Something far more dreadful. Something ancient. Primal.
And it spoke to me.
It gave me a choice. I could rest in an everlasting bliss of the lake where nothing would hurt me ever again, or I could live again. Get my revenge. Be free.
I chose vengeance.
The next thing I remember is waking up at the lakeshore. Drenched and cold, but I was alive. I looked at the lake — it was still, serene... and empty. I looked at my reflection in the water and saw a stranger looking back at me. She smiled.
"Let's go get your revenge," she said.
Delirium
Alexandra rushed out of the motel only to find her car gone. Scared and confused and without any better ideas, she ran through the desolate streets as far as she could before her unfit body forced her to slow down. As she ran, her mind was trying to rationalize what she just saw. Maybe it was a stupid prank by the townsfolk. Maybe someone got wind of her return and decided to 'make fun of the freak'. No, that couldn't be it. Nobody knew she was coming back. Hell, Alexandra herself never expected to return, especially willingly. Nobody who knew her did. But that would mean that the gory scene at the motel wasn't a prank. It was real, and whoever did that was still around somewhere, lurking in the shadows, in the fog.
The fog.
Only now did Alexandra notice that the fog had grown so thick she couldn't possibly tell where she was, let alone where she was going. Suddenly, she heard a noise. A loud thud, as if something heavy had hit the ground. Then more noises. Some sounded like footsteps, the others - like shuffle. The terror had gripped the young woman, making it hard to breathe, to think. Something was in the fog with her, and she had to get out. Find a place where she could hide, take a breather. Right on cue, Alexandra noticed a lit diner sign, towering above the fog like a lighthouse. A memory called out to her. A memory of her, and the other. Their place. A haven.
Making her way towards the diner, Alexandra stopped when she heard a squishing sound right below her. She looked down and almost vomited as the foul stench of blood and feces hit her nose. Someone's intestines had been strewn across the street in a bloody mess.
The footsteps were getting faster. Louder. Closer. Alexandra looked around frantically but only the fog was there. Slowly, she backed away and froze in terror as her back hit something both solid and sticky. An ear-piercing screech from behind her sprung Alexandra into action and she bolted away, not looking back.
Alexandra ran as fast as she could, almost not noticing the burning in her lungs. She only stopped once she found herself standing before the diner. Luckily, it was open. Alexandra shut the door behind her, barricaded it with a table and slumped on the floor, covering her face and taking slow, deep breaths. With shaking hands, she took out her phone and dialed her mother, hoping (for the first time in a while) that she would answer. No answer. A whirlwind of mixed thoughts and emotions raged inside, but a loud commotion behind the counter snapped Alexandra out of it. Be it bravery or stupidity, instead of listening to her instincts, she slowly approached the counter and--
"Stay away!" Someone swung at her. Alexandra dodged the hit by mere inches, but the sudden strike still made her trip and fall. Looking up at her attacker, Alexandra saw a face she did not expect to see again in a thousand years.
Home Bitter Home
For years, Alexandra did her best to avoid coming back. Why would she? Her family couldn't accept her, and the few friends who could have left the town long ago in pursuit of their happiness. And yet there she was, driving in her car to the place she vowed never to come back to. As Alexandra turned to West Sandford Street, the Toluca Lake – grand and tranquil as ever – appeared to her right. For a moment, a thought flashed inside Alexandra's mind: turn back, you will not find rest here. But it disappeared as soon as she drove past the welcoming sign. For better or worse, she was finally back home. Back in Silent Hill.
Driving past the Lakeside, Alexandra crossed the Sandford Street bridge and entered the resort part of the town. It was only when she parked her car across the Norman's Motel that she noticed the thick fog that had permeated the streets. She could swear that just minutes ago she had a clear view of the lake. Or did she? Alexandra sighed in disbelief at the extent of her absent-mindedness.
Turning the engine off, Alexandra left her car and headed inside the motel, expecting to get some rest before the dreaded family meeting. The place greeted Alexandra with a little doorbell chime, a stale and somewhat metallic air, and an empty front desk. She rang the desk bell and waited. No one responded. Tired, frustrated and in no mood to wait, Alexandra decided to find another place to sleep. She was almost out the door when a loud creak stopped her dead in her tracks. She turned around and noticed the door behind the front desk was now ajar. Carefully, she went behind the desk, peeked inside the room and barely managed to hold her scream.
Motel clerk's mangled body was hanging from the ceiling, his hollow eyes seemingly staring right at Alexandra. Two words were carved out on his body.
'WELCOME HOME'
Hunger
Marie wandered through the supermarket, going from aisle to aisle, trying to find something that would sate her strange new hunger without making her throw up moments later. The young woman knew that her search was futile, as everything (ranging from the most bland and light foods to the most convoluted dietary meals) had ended up swimming inside the toilet. On one of those occasions though, Marie had noticed that the food looked largely intact, as if her stomach simply refused to digest it.
She must've caught something really bad somewhere. That party she recently went to was the most likely culprit, as Marie still couldn't remember what happened that night, or the night after. But what in the world could make her feel like this, along with giving her a partial amnesia? Nothing that the internet could help with, that's for sure. Marie knew she had to get checked out by a doctor, but at the moment her financial and legal status prevented that from happening.
Empty-handed and disappointed, Marie walked out of the store and into the dark, dimly lit streets, slowly dragging herself along. Not wanting to return home right away, she decided to take a stroll in the nearby park. Marie hoped that the fresh air would help her clear her head, maybe even give her new ideas regarding her problem, yet the longer she went, the more anxious her thoughts became. Streetlights began to flicker hectically, and the trees around Marie seemed to grow bigger, looming over her like ill omens. She took it as a sign to go back home and turned around. That was when Marie felt someone grab her, and her mind went blank.
Next thing she knew she was standing in front of a dead man, his face frozen in horror. Marie covered her mouth with the palm of her hand, but pulled it away the moment she felt something thick and sticky. She looked at her hand and almost screamed.
Blood. Her face was covered in it. She felt it in her mouth. In her stomach. But she didn't feel sick. And most importantly, she didn't feel hungry anymore.
Deal with the Devil
I stood outside of an abandoned factory. The hour was late, and so was the person I was expecting. I lit a cigarette, hiding it from the rain with the brim of my hat. Some folks would say I'm old-fashioned, even cliché, but I'm past the age of giving a rat's ass about that sorta thing. I do my job and I do it well, unlike lots of modern gumshoes. Apart from my partner, who was one of the two reasons I was standing in the pouring rain.
"What took you so long?" I asked as I took a drag.
"You have it?" The voice behind me replied.
I turned around and took out a folder from my coat's inner pocket. "Names, addresses, all the dirt. The usual."
"Does she know?" The figure reached for the folder.
I pulled my arm back. "She doesn't. And you will not hurt her."
"You know the price of that."
"I do. And you know I'll pay it."
The figure took the folder. "In due time, Hughes. Just remember – I am watching."
I took another drag of my cigarette as the figure disappeared into the night.
"As if you'll ever let me forget."
Beacon
I sit in a quiet, dimly lit room in front of a blank page opened on an old laptop. My eyelids are heavy, my thoughts are slow and hollow. I take a sip of tea in hopes of refreshment, but it is cold and tasteless. I smirk as I compare it to my writing.
So many things I want to write about. So many ideas. Yet every time I try to it all just slips out of my mind and into the infinite void that our brains are too weak and primitive to grasp. I begin to hate my mind, my body, and ultimately myself, spiraling down into remembering every single mistake and bad decision that I have ever made, once again reminding myself that I am a bad person, a scum, a villain, and that maybe it would be better for everyone around me if I wasn't even born in the first place.
No. It isn't true. Not entirely, at least. I take a deep breath and recite her words. I know them to be true, because she never lied to me. I wish I did the same. Her words are like a beacon in the dark stormy ocean, a reminder that there is light inside of me, and that it was this very light that had saved her years ago, and keeps doing so to this day.
Ruiner’s Lament
One day I'll wake up, and you'll be there again, in my arms, sleeping blissfully.
One day I'll wake up, and feel the greatest relief ever known to a living being.
One day I'll wake up, and every mistake, every hurt, every regret will become nothing but a bad dream.
One day I'll wake up, and everything will be right again.
Maybe one day I'll wake up.