A/N: A fanfic request/gift for my good friend, buddy and RP SISTAH FOR LIFE: Mewichigo218. (Forever Canada-san, in my heart! ^_^). She got me into Silent Hill almost 4 months ago and I forever fell in love with this awesome game/movie series. (Besides Resident Evil) So, as to show her my thanks and appreciation, I wrote her this little ONE-SHOT fanfic.

Hope you enjoy it, buddy!^_^

A/N2: This fanfic story is being told through Henry Townsend's point of view (Note: he is the main person in game that you start out with) and how his life seems to be trapped in some sort of dream or nightmare as he tries to figure out why there is a certain someone always in his head….

So, hope you all enjoy it and since this is my first fanfic story for the Silent Hill series, I don't own any of its characters or anything related to it. They belong to the creators of the game series. Please comment and hope you enjoy the story!

The smell of blood filled the air…

Or so I thought.

Or did I?

It's hard to tell in this place, this otherworld.

But I did thought I smelled blood. I have remembered what it smells like, like old rust and salt, with a bit of a metallic taste to it.

It lingered in the air for a long time, as I held back the urge to puke my guts out. I tried to hold back the urges as I continued to walk down the hallway.

Ever since I suddenly found myself locked in my own apartment room, room 302, my life has never been the same since.

I woke up one day and found myself trapped like a rat in my own room. At first I thought it was a dream, but it soon wasn't as I tried to open my door.

After a few tries I couldn't, as I saw that metal chains, were blocking the door way.

I thought this was some sort of sick prank, as I tried to pull and thug the chains off of the doorway area. But again, I couldn't, no matter how hard I tried.

Soon, I gave up that idea and tried different things to get someone to help me….

I screamed for help until my voice was sore and my throat was raw from the screaming.

No one came.

I banged on the walls until my hands hurt and was red from all the banging and pounding.

No one came.

I banged again and pounded again, this time on the windows, until I felt like my hands would fall off.

No one came.

I did everything I could do, to get anyone to notice something wrong with my apartment.

But my attempts, all ended up in failure.

No one heard me, no one saw me, no one came around to see if I was okay. It was like no one even knew that I existed at all, at this moment, at this time.

It felt like a nightmare, like living in an endless hell….

One that I couldn't escape from….

After 5 days of my own entrapment hell, frozen in an unmoving time, …

That's when the came….

The strange dreams or nightmares or whatever the hell they were. At first, they seemed small and unrealistic, like I couldn't even tell what they were supposed to be.

But then, they started to get a little clearer and make a little more sense…

It starts off pitch black, like a really black darkness that is really thick, so thick that you can't even see your own fingers. But soon, after a bit of time passes, the blackness starts to fade a bit, until I can see that I'm standing in some kind of room.

I can tell that's its not normal, since the walls are covered what looks like dirty rust and dark old blood stains, that have been there for a very long time.

But soon, the room changes as I can see a figure in the very end of the room, that is filled with some darkness. He stands there, like an unknown guest at those parties of normal high society.

His hair is long and blondish, but filled with dark stains and other bits of whatever is in it.

He had even evil dark looking eyes, filled with what looked like an intense hunger and loneliness of want…

I try to say something or anything to him, but somehow, I am unable to speak or move. It's as if he has somehow gotten me paralyzed with numbness, as I see him raise a small sharp scalpel….

And in one single motion…

Cuts my throat open, as my blood pours out of me, in a gushing rush motion.

The cut was done clean, a single good cut, as I put a hand to my throat, to stop the bleeding as best as I could. But my blood is pouring out of my throat, faster than I could stop it, as I feel myself start to get dizzy, due to extreme and heavy blood loss.

In a matter of minutes, I'm on the floor, feeling my life literally slipping away from my finger tips. I can almost feel the hands of death about to come and take me to wherever death takes the souls of the dead, to their final resting place of eternal sleep.

But just as my eyes are about to close, I see the man with the scalpel in his hand, the blade shining with the silver part as it cuts me again, as my world fades to red and black….

Every time I try to think about that dream or illusion or whatever it was, the man seems to linger a bit longer each time, it comes to me.

This man….

His image….

Hasn't left my head, for as long as this incident has started.

So, here I am, trying to find him and demand him to tell me why he is doing this to me. Every time I leave to go find him, due to the mysterious giant hole that appeared in my bathroom….

(God knows how the hell that happened…

I mean, look at it!


It's so freaking huge, it takes up half a wall space. You could fit three people in it!)

Every time I try to think of any reason why this is happening to me, he keeps coming back up, as if to taunt me on my suffering and how he is in control of my life and every single move I make, like this is all a game to him.



Why can't I stop thinking about him?

Why is he there? Inside my head?

Inside my thoughts?

Crawling his way into my brain?

So he's always…

Always there…


Always on my mind….