I woke up near the ruin that was my crashed car. A thin line of smoke rose from where engine was, and as I examined the damage I was sure the car was beyond repair. I rose unsteadily from the ground covered in snow... no, not snow. As I knelt and touched the white substance, it became clear it was ash. I looked up and saw it falling thickly from the dark sky.
I had my suspicions now. I went over to the crashed car, checked the glove compartment and retrieved the 9mm handgun and two magazines I held there. I checked the ammo, loaded the gun, and looked the way my car supposedly came. Instead of a road I only found an impassable hole in the ground.
I went over to the sign my car was embedded in. It read clearly "Welcome to Silent Hill". I laughed heartily.
"Nope", I said as I placed the gun in my mouth and pulled the trigger. Death came for me quickly and almost painlessly.
I hope you enjoyed this story. I sure did. Writing the adventures of self-inserted me in this tale brought a lot of joy to my heart. I really hope you liked reading my adventures as much as I enjoyed writing them. It was a nice ride, but like all good things it had to stop at some point, but really, what can we measly humans do about it? Everything has to end sometimes. Even our universe planet we live on will end someday in a glorious all-consuming flame when our magnificent star that nurtured us and watched us grow through millennia ventures away from the main-sequence stars and becomes a red giant, only to shed it's outer shell and end all life in our solar system. We can only run away to another solar system, until that one ends too. We can only run, until the universe becomes cold as last of the stars burns out, leaving whatever is left in a dark, cold and uncaring bunch of rocks and nothing. A depressing thought, really. Take solace in the fact we will probably wipe ourselves out in an orgy of nuclear fire before that.
The idea for this fic, for my magnum opus you had just the (I hope at least) pleasure to read, came to my on a winter evening back in 1999, when I first heard of Silent Hill in a Playstation magazine. The brilliant use of mist was exactly that – brilliant. It helped build the atmosphere in the game, and was one of the few genuinely scary games from that time. Of course, the first game I played with amazing use of mist was Turok 2 that came a year earlier on n64. Amazing game in it's own right, I must add.
When I first played Silent Hill I was pretty scared of going outside if there was mist out there. Well, maybe not scared, just creeped out. Doesn't matter, really, underwear needs to be cleaned no matter what you call the event that encouraged the bowel movement.
When playing this game, I couldn't help but wonder, what would I do in this situation. Would I oppose the oppressive town as the main character did, or would I behave differently? Would I search for my beloved cat that god lost in the twisted maze of buildings? Damn straight I would. Fucking cat was so god-damned cute I would go to hell and back for it. It died later though. I think. I never found the body. Someone probably killed my kitty. It was a very trusting cat. She would always come close to you, no matter who you might be, and try to play. She also liked slides. God-damned cat could slide all day. How the hell did it climb on the contraption will forever remain a mystery to me. Even cats shouldn't be agile as that.
Courageous, too! One time there was this pack of four dogs led by a nasty-looking and big bulldog. I heard loud barking, turned around and saw the dogs closing in on my god-damned cat. The leader was close enough to eat the cat whole, or two bites maximum I think. I tried to shout to warn them off, but I was too late. That fucking cat slashed the dog with her claws, the motion so swift it was a blur. The dog let out a yelp of pain, turned around and ran like hell, probably in agony over it's slashed nose. At that thrice-damned cat went after him! It chased the many times bigger and yelping -like-a-kicked-pup bulldog, and the whole pack ran away with him. Never saw that dog again. Fucking cat. I miss you ;_;
As I was saying, Silent Hill. Nice town for the whole family. It's kinda like Rapture, if only Ayn Rand wrote a book about satanism instead of objectivism.
As I ventured deeper into the cursed virtual city with my trusty and dirty from all the cheetos controller in hands, I often wondered what is a man? Is it the sum of his experiences? Then what kind of man would emerge after being submerged in the oppressive nature of Silent Hill? A better person? A monster? A miserable little pile of broken dreams and shattered hopes? What can change the nature of a man? Is a trek through hell given the form of a small town enough? Or a conscious choice prompted by happenstance is required? For is not true that we make our own choices, but in the end it is our choices that make us?
Some of my numerous beta-readers had brought to my attention the fact that to them this fic looked like a joke, a parody, aborted and underdeveloped idea that should not be brought to the light of day. To the doubters I say: nay, my friends, you are wrong. This is completely serious fic I worked on for many long weeks, while the idea nurtured by my youthful imagination blossomed into this polished gem you had a chance to read.
Time grows nigh, so move along citizens. Find something else to do knowing in your heart you saw greatness today, and your life from now will be nothing but an empty void encased in a shell of apathy, the only thing to look forward to in your life being your own death. But do not despair, for you will be of the few that realised this fact of life.
For death comes for everyone and everything, and there is no escape.
All is dust.