Disclaimer: Silent Hill belongs to Konami. Hey Arnold! belongs to Nickelodeon, Snee-Oosh, Viacom and Craig Bartlett.

Copyright: Jack and Ramon belong to me. (Technically Mrs. Arrington also belongs to me but I don’t give a crap.)

AN: Okay, after all that time I finally have finished chapter 5. A lot of stuff has gone down, leaving me with a ton of time on my hands…. One being the loss of my job… grr. I went from working 50hrs a week to working ZERO in one day…. Big fiasco, lots of drama, not gonna get into it.

Anywho, here’s chapter 5. Enjoy. Sorry for mistakes, I haven’t edited it, just spell-checked. I just wanted to get it up for you guys. Please do not go on pointing out every mistake, I know they are there and I will fix them in time. Just enjoy the story for now. It will be more polished soon.

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Hey Arnold: Silent Hillwood

By Demile

Chapter V: Worry

It was just after 9PM when Jamie-O Johansson’s shift came to an end. He finished restocking some ice cream bowls then untied his work apron and draped it over his arm.

“Alright you guys. I guess I’ll see you all on Friday then,” he said, counting the cash he made in tips. His fellow employees bid him goodnight after punching out then left. Jamie quickly went back around to double check the front and side door locks before grabbing three large bags of trash and clocking out. Jamie exited out the back door, locking it behind him, then tossed the three garbage bags into the large green dumpster behind the diner.

The air was freezing cold and the wind was blowing fiercely. It was even starting to snow a little bit. Jamie hurried toward his small, white Toyota. He was fiddling around with his keys when something out of the corner of his eye caught his attention.

“What the…” He turned, noticing a small mass curled up on the cement nearby... a person. Jamie shoved his keys back into his pocket and darted over to the figure on the ground, which he then recognized was a young girl.

He rolled her over on to her back and brushed the wet, matted hair out of her face. “It’s the Pataki girl,” he whispered, trying to shake her a bit, “Pataki! Pataki! Wake up! What happened to you? Pataki!”

Jamie shook her a bit more and patted her face again, she made no response, “Oh man, she’s not waking up, what do I do?” He checked to make sure she was breathing, which she was. He knelt down and gently picked the thin girl up and laid her down in the passenger seat of his car to get her out of the rain before running back into Slausen’s. He made his way through the darkened kitchen to the front of the diner as quickly as he could, frantically feeling around for the light switch, flipping it on when he finally did.

He reached for the black phone that sat next to the register and dialled 911. He heard no more than two rings before the lights went out and the phone went silent.

“Damnit!” Jamie-O slammed the phone back on to its base and ran back outside. He got in his car and made sure the passenger seatbelt was securely fastened across Helga before exiting the parking lot.

Gerald Johansson was in the kitchen pouring himself a glass of milk as the electricity went out.

“Ahhhh! No!” came a scream from down the hall. The scream was the frustrated cry of one 12-year-old Timberly Johansson. Gerald reached into the drawer for two small flashlights and made his way down the hall and shined the flashlight into his bedroom, where his younger sister had been playing video games only moments before.

“What’s up, Kiddo?” he said, tossing her a small, red, flashlight.

“Heather just puked up the demon foetus and Claudia was eating it,” Timberly said, making a disgusted face, “then everything died,” she then rolled her eyes.

“Oohhh, you were almost at the end… save?” Gerald said, plopping down on the bed next to her. Timberly narrowed her eyes then look away sheepishly.

“No…”

“Ohhh, harsh. Tough luck, Kid,” Gerald said. Timberly sighed, sliding off the bed and putting the controller away. She then left the bedroom, returning to her own a few doors down the dark hallway.

Gerald smirked and flopped down on his bed directing his attention to the glow in the dark stars on his ceiling. He heard his parents emerge from their bedroom and walk down the stairs.

“You guys all right?” Martin called out.

“Dad, the power is out!” Timberly shouted from down the hall, stating the obvious.

“I am aware of that, Pumpkin.” Mr. Johansson sighed, shaking his head slightly. Outside he could here the wind picking up and it had begun to snow a little, “I wonder where Jamie is… he’s usually home by now,” he said as he entered the kitchen where his wife was lighting some candles, there was a hint of worry in his voice.

“I’m sure he’s just taking longer because of the weather, Dear,” his wife, Diane, assured him.

Just then the front door flew open and a strong gust of frozen air blew in.

“Mom, Dad! Come quick!” Jamie darted inside and Martin rushed to close the door. Hearing all the commotion Gerald ran out into the living room, nearly tripping over his younger sister who tried to pass him. “It’s the Pataki girl! I found her lying outside when I was getting off work. She won’t wake up!” He said, handing Helga over to his mother who laid her down on the couch. “I tried calling for help but the phones were dead and the quickest route to the hospital is out!”

“Helga?” Gerald looked at the unconscious girl in confusion.

“Gerald! Go grab a warm change of clothes! Jamie, grab some towels! Goodness, she’s soaked!” the woman removed Helga’s sopping wet jacket as well as her socks and shoes. She then checked Helga’s pulse, nodding to herself.

Gerald and Jamie dashed back in the room with their mother’s requests, laying the clothes and towels on the back of the sofa then stood there, watching, waiting for their mother to tell them what to do next.

“I think she’s gonna be fine. I need to get her out of these wet clothes…” Diane paused, looking at her family, “Well? Go! Get out! Shoo!” and with that, Gerald and his siblings shuffled off down the candlelit hallway.

“I’m going to make room in the garage for Jamie’s car,” Martin said, clearing his throat before heading out the garage door.

“What’s going on, Jamie-O?” Gerald asked. The three of them were flopped down lazily on his bed. “What happened to Helga?”

“I was getting off work and I found her out in the parking lot. I couldn’t wake her up.” Jamie said, worried.

“What was she doing?” Timberly asked, curiously.

“I haven’t a clue. She was in earlier today… came in around 2:30 and ordered a sundae. She was fine then,” Jamie said. Timberly stood up and walked over to the door.

“Oh… well, I’m going to bed. Goodnight,” She said, exiting the room and shutting the door behind her. The two brothers laid there in silence for several minutes, both staring, once again at the stars on the ceiling.

“It gave me the creeps…” Gerald said, finally breaking the since.

“What?” Jamie asked.

“She looked dead, Jamie. It creeped me out. What do you think happened?”

“I don’t know, Gerald. Hopefully she will tell us when she wakes up,” Jamie said, sitting up and planting his feet firmly on the floor. He yawned and rose to a stand when his father entered the room.

“Gerald, Jamie, would one of you mind giving up your bed for the night? It would be best if we let the Pataki girl sleep in one of them. She’s like ice and the living room is freezing without the heater.

Gerald was taken back by this question and sprawled out across his bed in effort to show his father it was his bed.

“Sure thing, Pops,” Jamie said, leaving Gerald’s room, his father in tow.

Jamie opened his bedroom door revealing something that quite resembled a landfill. Soda cans, bottles and potato chip bags lined the floor around the bed. Who knew what might be under it…

Jamie-O shoved aside a pile of dirty clothes, cramming them under his desk.

Jamie motioned to the bed, which was a heap of blankets and some more dirty laundry strewn in the mass of tangled sheets.

“There ya go, dad. I’ll go crash on the couch,” Jamie said. Martin scrunched his face as his eyes scanned over the disaster area. He knew Jamie meant well but simply couldn’t make Helga stay in there.

“Umm…” Martin pondered a moment more before calling out to his youngest son, “Gerald!”

“Oh no! There is no way I am giving up my bed to Helga G. Pataki!” he called from down the hall.

--Several minutes later—

Gerald took one last glance at the still-unconscious Helga before his mother closed the door and stepped out into the hallway. Even in the very dim light the candle provided she could easily make out her son’s angry frown.

“Why couldn’t she have taken Timberly’s room?” Gerald whined.

“Your sister was already asleep! It’s not going to kill you! You’ll be fine, Gerald. There are plenty of extra blankets in the linen closet.” Diane said and Gerald narrowed his eyes to tiny slits, as if trying to fry holes through his mother with laser-vision. “Gerald!” Diane glared back at the boy, her hands firmly planted on her hips, “I couldn’t have just let her freeze to death!”

Gerald scoffed, “Ooohhh, but you don’t care if your own son freezes to death! Okay, I see how it is!” he growled.

“Ugh, Gerald…” Diane shook her head and motioned toward the living room. Gerald turned in a huff and stormed off angrily down the hall.

It was 4AM when a loud crash awoke Madame Blanche from her slumber. She laid there for a moment in silence, listening. About twenty seconds passed before she heard another loud crash from outside, followed by the screech of a cat.

Blanche let out a relieved sigh and rolled over, closing her eyes.

Moments later another crash caused her to jolt upright in her bed. She had no doubts; there was someone inside her apartment. She quietly slid out of bed, hearing faint footsteps on the other side of her bedroom door.

She immediately reached for the telephone on the dresser only to discover the line was dead. Cursing she quickly slipped her feet into a pair of running shoes that next to the bed, silently thanking herself for taking up jogging in the mornings.

As quietly as she could she opened her nightstand drawer, pulling out a flashlight and a large, old leather diary with a pentagram engraved on the front. For a moment her shaking fingers traced each of the five points of the star then around the circle that enclosed it.

“I was hoping never to take you out…”

Finally, she opened the book to reveal that it had been hollowed out to house a small handgun. It was loaded but she left the safety on. She had no intention of shooting anybody, but she needed to show that she was, in fact, armed.

She crept toward the door and peeked through the old keyhole. Indeed there was someone inside her apartment. She could hear him shuffling around the living room. She gasped lightly to herself. “Helga!” She whispered, remembering the girl that was thought to be asleep in the living room.

Blanche flung the bedroom door open.

“HELGA! GET TO THE FLOOR!” she shouted, aiming the handgun at the figure. She could just make out his somewhat bulky form in the darkness. Immediately the figure made a beeline to the window, climbing out and darting down the fire escape. Blanche wasn’t far behind, descending the icy ladder as fast as she could. “HOLD IT! GET BACK HERE!”

Adrenaline pumping, Blanche ran through the snow and sleet, chasing the man who seemed to be getting tired as he was slowing down and she was closing the gap between them. She chased him a few more blocks and was really close to catching up to him before he disappeared down an alley. Blanche decided not to follow him, a wise decision to make even if the streetlamps had been lit.

Blanche sighed and turned around and began making her way back to her block, never letting her guard down. Downtown Hillwood isn’t so welcoming in the middle of the night. It was a sacrifice she had made. Her quaint one bedroom apartment was located directly above her store, it was a convenience and for it she had to sacrifice the more tight-knit safety found in the suburbs.

Blanche got to the end of the block before she stopped dead in her tracks. She stood there for a moment peering around in the blindingly white fog, listening intently. Suddenly, for a split second, everything changed. The world became dark and a rush of loud shrieks assaulted her ears before quickly returning back to normal. Blanche felt dizzy, like getting a head rush when you stand up too fast. She shook her head and gave her surroundings another look-around before crossing the street.

“What? Just now… what was that?”

Blanche reached the corner of her block several people were out, standing about in their robes and nightclothes, including the man that had chased her brother earlier in the evening.

Blanche’s breath hitched in her throat as she approached her shop.

“Oh goodness, no!” She cried, running toward her shop. The front door had been broken open and was barely hanging to the frame by one hinge. Blanche stepped in warily, mouthing hanging open, eyes wide. The place was in complete disarray. Books were scattered everywhere. Two glass display cases were broken. The ground was littered with bits of wax and broken and crushed candles. Jewellery, cards, and other displays were strewn everywhere.

Blanche just stood there in shock, shock that was quickly replaced by anger. She stormed out back into the street and looked around at the people standing about.

“Did you see them? How many were there?” She asked.

“My husband heard you yelling down the street when I came to the window I saw about three or four men take off in the opposite direction,” an elderly woman said. Blanche shined the flashlight toward her, careful as to not blind the woman. She then recognized her as old Mrs. Arrington, who ran the bakery across the street from her own store.

“I need to report the break-in. Does anybody have a cellphone. The lines seem to be out,” Blanche said, sighing.

“Can’t get any reception. Power’s out all over the city, cell-tower’s probably knocked out too… Would ya like me to give yous a lift to the police station, Ms. B?” asked Ramon Willis, Blanche’s neighbour. She hated to ask for help, especially after Jack caused quite a scene earlier that night.

“That won’t be necessary, Ramon, if you can help me fix that front door that would be nice. And, don’t worry, I will pay for the repairs to your bedroom window,” Blanche said.

“Dun’ worry ‘bout it Ms. B. But if I ever get my hands on that scrawny little brother of yours I’ll…” the large man punched his fist once then made a choking motion with his hands.

“Be my guest…” Blanche said, nonchalantly. “Thank yeh all for your concern. Everything’s fine now. I’m sorry for the disturbance. I’ll see you in the morning,” Blanche called out, waving the bystanders back into their homes.

“So, whatcha gonna do about them no-goods that broke in to your store?” Ramon asked.

“Nothing much I can do. Right now we should just fix the door and then I can go by the station tomorrow after I take Helga…” Blanche stopped mid-sentence and widened her eyes. “Oh my god! Helga!” Blanche took off running into the shop, careful not to step on any of the scattered merchandise. She made her way to the back of the store, and darted up the stairs. “Helga? Helga!” she called out. She jiggled the doorknob, cursing as she remembered that the door was locked from the inside.

Blanche reached behind the framed art nouveau fairy print that hung in the darkened stairwell and pulled out her spare key that was taped to the back of it and unlocked the door.

“Helga!” she called out, frantically shining the flashlight around the room. “Helga!” she called out again, shining the flashlight toward the couch where Helga had been sleeping.

The blankets were folded and the pillows were put away. Blanche also noticed that the girl’s shoes, which were sitting by the table, were also gone. That was when she noticed the small piece of paper sitting on the coffee table. She strode over and picked it up, unfolding the paper and reading the note to herself.

She sighed heavily; relieved, knowing that Helga had not been kidnapped. However, she remained fearful at the fact that Helga had gone out wandering alone at night.

“Hey, are you okay, Ms. B?” Ramon asked, peering into her apartment from the stairway.

“I’m alright. The Pataki girl was supposed to stay here tonight but it looks like she snuck out on me…” Blanche said in a worried tone.

“I’m sure she’s alright, Ms. B. Let’s get that door of yours fixed,” Ramon said and Blanche nodded and followed him back down the stairs, closing the door behind her.

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AN: Well, there you have it! Chapter 6 is underway! Please R&R! Thanks a bunch!