This is the sequel to "Chance" which is a fanfiction based off the Bogeyman's song, but I still do prefer to call that sexy moo Pyramid Head. If you haven't read the prequel, please do!

Hey all~! So here's the promised sequel. And I know a lot of you are probably thinking: "But wait! I thought Chance died!" Yes, that's true, but remember the fact that Alessa is also 'dead'. So really. Is there such thing as dead for those characters in the Silent Hill series…hammy. No idea. But worry not, your favorite blonde-hair-blue-eyed twink is back, and as sexy as always. Scars to boot.

We'll also be featuring Cindy from the previous fanfiction, and my new boy-toy Seishiro.



It was…so dark now. So pleasantly dark. It was perfectly suited for someone like him. There was nothing else needed but this…wonderful, piercing darkness. Overwhelming. Consuming. Hungry.

"Isn't it just fine, like this?" Chance whispered.

Seshiru's eyes snapped open and he gasped, looking around the old house he had fallen asleep in. "Fuck…what the fuck was that…" he shook his head, trying to put a finger on the voice he had just heard.

The sky was grey now…a grey filled with silenced ashes and dead air. He sighed, shutting his eyes as the cold, emotionless air overtook his wounds, drying the blood and turning the angry red stain on his shirt-turned-bandage a dull brown. One of his redeeming aspects was the fact that he recovered quickly. Seishiro breathed in deep one more time, before digging into the pocket of his loose pants and taking out a small, electronic device-his holo-phone.

He shut his eyes and held his breath in anticipation before pressing the button. "…Cin…?"

A fuzzy holographic image appeared at the top of his phone where the screen was, the girl coughing onto the floor of the familiar portal room. "Khah! Ahk! Khah-khahk!"

He breathed a sigh of relief. "You made it…"

"Kh-hah…Sei…you…used the escape…"

Seishiro looked away slightly. "What else was I supposed to do…you were drowning."

The holographic girl recovered her breath. "But…you can only use it once per mission for the both of us at the same time!"

"…I know."

"You don't even have a gun!"

"I know."

"You can't go home now unless you…"

"I said I know, woman!" he snapped, groaning a little after. "Calm down…I'll fix this."

"…Sei…I'll come get you…"

He frowned. "Don't! When that thing realizes it didn't kill you, you're going to be in a lot of danger."

"Sei-? Seishi-"

The holographic transmission cut out suddenly, and Seishiro looked up at the sound of a loud, blaring siren. "Shit!"

Chance touched the walls gently, gaze making its way up as the rot and red filth began to melt away at the soft ashen, burnt grey. No smile graced his lips-such a thing didn't belong here. Not here. Slowly, his lazy eyes caught sight of the rows and rows of prison cells, vomited up from the darkness. Touching the scar on his neck, left by his master, he ventured down the pathway, the pathway darkened as he walked along it…but it was a welcome darkness. He came to a cell that for some reason, he was drawn to, and entered.

Chance stood in a clean room. A room too clean for his liking. The floor was cold against his bare feet and the air around him close against his naked body. But he didn't care where he was. Nor did he question. He just silently stood there, waiting…watching. Curious. Uninterested. Involved. Distant.

Murphy panted slightly, looking around the room before questioning the nun that stood there, waving his arms an frantic question. "Where am I?" He approached the woman, ready to rip her in half for everything he had been through. "Why are you doing this to me?"

Chance knew though…that unlike he himself, whose life was stolen away from him-Murphy Pendleton was not so guiltless.

"Thank you for coming to shepherd your son home, Mr. Pendleton." the chapel nun said, nodding, standing at the head of a gurney, a large body laid out on it, covered in a sheet. "I know it's hard losing a child…"

Murphy stood there in slight confusion. How did he get here? Why was he here? And…was this really the body of his son?

"With all due respect…I don't think you do." he almost spat, but held it in.

Chance traced the outline of the body under the sheet with his eyes, and they slowly turned into the violent dead silver, whit sclera blackening. A dull joy rose in his chest-but he did not smile.

"Like I already told you, there's been a mistake. I buried my son years ago." Murphy denied.

Chance's lips moved with the nun's, mockingly, teasingly, laughingly. The nun spoke, motioning to the covered body.

"I understand Mr. Pendleton. We all deal with grief in out own way…shall we?"

Murphy stepped back a little, curious, confused. Why was this body here? But…in this place. this sickening, insane mad town of horrors…anything seemed possible. The man approached the body, swallowing, uneasy. And in one swift motion, the nun pulled the sheet off to reveal none other than…The Bogeyman. They very monster that had been tormenting him, taunting him, shooting fear and terror right into his very veins.

"Wha-?" Murphy gasped, backing away as the nun continued, unfazed by his reaction.

"Now, if you just sign for your son's body. You can take him home." she said.

Murphy shook his head, growing panicked. "No! This isn't my son!"

Chance tilted his head to the side slowly, watching in amusement as Murphy fumbled for words.

"This thing's a monster! A murderer!"

Chance's lips curled into a smirk as he mimicked the nun's voice-at the same time, puppeting her words. "Yes, well, I suppose that runs in the family."

"What the hell are you talking about?!" Murphy demanded, stepping even farther away from the creature.

Chance straightened his head once more, watching as the nun did her duty as nothing but a shadow of an actual person. "Don't you know, child? Have you wandered so far off the path to not even realize who you are?"

"What the HELL are you TALKING ABOUT?!" Murphy raised his voice, growing angry now.

"So often the answers are before us Murphy." The nun said. "If only we allow ourselves to see them."

Yes. Just like himself, Chance thought. Truth lies within oneself…sins…lie in denial.

Murphy's head shook and he yelled, "Why are you doing this to me?!"

Sinner. Sinner. Sinner. Chance's gaze intensified as he honed in on the man. Guilty.

The nun began to preach about the darkness. They very abyss Chance had come to inhabit, to embrace. "There were those who dwelt in darkness and in the shadow of death. Prisoners in misery and chains, because they had rebelled against the word of God."

Murphy grunted and cried in frustration, holding his head in his hands, and finally he admitted his crimes, screaming into the air. "I get it, I screwed up! But I didn't see any other way! You don't know what it was like…to know it was my fault he was gone! Everytime I shut my eyes, I saw Charlie's face, and all I could think was, that monster is still alive, but I'll never get to see my boy again!"

Chance approached the gurney as Murphy ranted, slow steps allowing him to get closer, and closer to his offspring that lay dormant. Obedient. And he couldn't help but think…how adorable his son was.

"What I did to Napier didn't solve anything…" Murphy said, voice lowering, breath coming short. "Charlie was still gone, and I was stuck in prison." He paced back to The Bogeyman's side, fazing right through Chance, who stood there, staring down at the same creature. "Everything spiraled out of control. It was my fault."

And Murphy said something that made Chance's blood run hot with envy and rage.

"I just wanted…I just wanted my life back."

The boy twitched, and said the same words the nun had to say. "Revenge is a long, treacherous road…isn't it…Mr. Pendleton?" Only his voice was more sour, more sarcastic, demeaning. "Where do you suppose it ends?"

Like cursed magic, a key spurned into existence around The Bogeyman's neck. The keys to the final challenge. The true test of Murphy's innocence, his resilience…the keys to a speedboat named "Freedom".

"It's yours, if you want it. You only need to claim him as your own." The nun said of her own accord.

Chance's eyes flickered from his offspring to the man who now stood just a little ways away from his shoulder. He twitched in irritation. Would this man accept this monster as his own?

Murphy reached out and snapped the chain around The Bogeyman's neck, looking at the keys in one hand, while touching them with the other.

"You see. I knew you'd come around in the end." The nun said, and with that, her duty was done.

Chance chuckled as The Bogeyman sprang to life, grabbing Murphy's wrist and making him scream. The grip strengthened as The Bogeyman grew, and grew, until he was his glorious, true size. The beast swung its heavy boots off the bed as the nun gave praise to God for welcoming Murphy home.

The boy stepped back and watched as The Bogeyman, breathing hard though the mask, lifted Murphy off the ground with ease and tossed him across the room, right into the shelves. The monster's breath came in long, frightening, deliberately spine-chilling rasps. He closed his eyes, as The Bogeyman lifted his favorite toy-the sledgehammer made from a steel pipe and cinderblock and smashed through the floor of the morgue with it.

Debris flew everywhere, and everything was pitch black.

The water was freezing, and felt strange. It had been forever since Chance had felt the soothing caress of it. A giant hand came to rest on his birther's cheek, and Chance opened his eyes. They were indeed underwater. The Bogeyman's breathing could be heard through his mask, and Chance gave the beast an understanding stare.

Help me! Daddy help me!

The voice of Murphy's son, Charlie echoed through the whole of the lake and the forest, calling The Bogeyman's prey to them both in the water. Chance understood, and gave the monster a look that said he would leave him to have fun now.

"Don't kill him…" Chance whispered through the water. "He's not all bad…"

The Bogeyman touched the mouth of it's gasmask to Chance's forehead, and the boy felt himself sink deeper, deeper, down into the depths of the lake, the monster's arms slowly letting go of the boy. He mused at the thought that…

Murphy gasped as The Bogeyman slowly rose its hulking form out of the water, sledgehammer in hand.

…it was his son's playtime.

Seishiro kicked the boarded up door down, having made his way upstairs in the strange house. It would be wider to stay hidden until the red sky turned grey again, good thing he knew how the game worked as well. Though the fact that this was the real thing now, did keep him on edge, expecting things to be more unpredictable. He entered the room, spotting a bed, too small to be an adults, and yet too large to be an infant's. Whoever lived her, had been a child when they did.

"Hm?" he blinked, picking up an old photograph of a man, a woman, and their small blonde-haired-blue-eyed child…his eyes widened and his brows raised. "It's that kid…"

He recalled the weakened patient, lying in a hospital bed, recognizing the facial structure, only more mature and defined than the baby-face in the photograph he held. And even though the boy he had encountered earlier had silver and black eyes, he knew this was the same person. This was where he had lived, in Silent Hill.

"So this kid really did come from here…" Seishiro's eyes narrowed in thought. "Then how did he ever move out, and get to Centrailia…?"

The thought bothered him for a second, before shaking his head at his own stupidity.

"A chance for everything eh?" there was no humor in his voice as he spoke. "Fucking Order."

Seishiro sensed a disturbing presence and spun around, coming face to face with a pale little girl with swollen tear-tired eyes, dressed in a dark blue school uniform, standing at the doorway, gazing at him.

"Alessa Gillespie." Seishiro said in acknowledgement. "…if you think I'm going to just throw in the towel, you've got the wrong guy."

Alessa looked at him wordlessly and smiled, a twisted little smile.

Seishiro held the photograph up towards the girl. "What is it you want with the kid, Alessa?" he demanded. "Why'd you take him?"

"…" she smiled. "He promised."

The red of the sky suddenly invaded the room, and Seishiro felt the flooring under him give way, crumbling into darkness. "Uwa-" he gasped, body suddenly falling backwards, eyes never leaving the girl who was now smiling knowingly. "-WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAaaaaaaaaaaaah hhhhhh…!"

His voice trailed farther and farther away as he fell.

Chance groaned, turning over on the mattress with no sheets, his tired eyes opening slowly. "Mhh…"

A strong, muscular arm provided his pillow, he followed the appendage as it connected to a massive shoulder and the rest of the massively built body, that was sitting, hunched over the mattress. But the creature did not need sleep, and the boy knew it.

"…" Chance's lips parted to bid the executioner good morning, but to his own shame, he shut them quickly, swallowing his guilt and uselessness.

He looked down as Pyramid Head grabbed his chin, scolding his own weakness, regretting everything he'd done up to this point. In this state his mind was in, while still Chance, he hated himself beyond everything else.

Pyramid Head breathed in deep, tasting the guilt, the shame, the self-loathing and savoring it thoroughly. Delicious.

"Stop…" Chance said, knowing very well that the monster was enjoying this.

Pyramid Head slicked his tongue out and slathered the boy's cheek, and Chance could feel his heart sink at the touch he knew was tender compared to what the punisher was really capable of. He turned his cheek into the slim-covered false tentacle.

"…" he sighed, shutting his eyes against the licking of his cheek and neck.

Pyramid Head withdrew, slipping the tendril back under his helmet. Chance felt his chest tighten painfully and his hands found themselves grasping the beast's shoulders, pulling his body closer to the other's. Was he going somewhere again?

Wordlessly, Chance looked up at the helmet, the darkness that was in it, and Pyramid Head in return groaned low as a yes. Chance swallowed hard and slowly let go, knowing that with the strength the executioner had, holding onto him was useless. And he still wouldn't let the true need for company show. Not because it was a human necessity, to not want to be alone…but because he knew, that it was Pyramid Head's company in particular, he craved for.

Chance traced the pointed tip of the helmet, slowly withdrawing his hand and huddling in the corner of the mattress with nothing but his bare self.

Pyramid Head rose to his feet, a heavy dragging making the Great Knife obvious at his side as he turned and left the room, the red fan turning over the cold metal table. Eagerly, the boy would wait.

Until he was sure...until he saw that hulking, menacing figure fill the doorway once more. He would wait.

"…hhn-…" Seishiro flinched, feeling a pain in his hip from the long fall and sudden collision against cold floor. "God-damnit…ow…"

He slowly got up, cracking his neck back into place and looking around. The hall was worn, the lightbulbs were flickering on and off, and partway through, the ceiling had caved in, boards of support creating a dead-end in one direction.

"Fuck…" Seishiro sighed as he recognized the area to be Blue Creek Apartments, if memory served right, was the second place James Sunderland encountered Pyramid Head. "This is just great. No iron bars to save me here."

He ventured down the hallway, trying to make as little noise as possible, heading into the first open door he felt push open with a small creak which was too loud for its own good. A little bit of fear ran up his spine, and he swallowed, trying not to kick the fucking door for being so fucking loud. He crept his way in, heading for the closet and throwing it open. To his fortune, as short-lived as it will be, he found a shirt.

Not clean, that was true, but it was better than going shirtless in a place like this. He blinked, picking up a strange green jacket that didn't seem to belong there.

"That's weird." he said, "Looks like it's from the Real World. What's it doing here…?"

Shreds of luck was on his side, and not all the fates were cruel, but whichever would win out, was left entirely up to the decisions Seishiro would make from now on.

A curious hand fished out a flick-blade from the right pocket of the jacket, on it engraved was a skull on fire. Typical of a biker gang. A inkling of whom this jacket and knife belonged to struck Seishiro, and he put the shirt and jacket on a nearby almost broken old chair, putting the shirt on as soon as he tore the wrapping of what used to be his previous shirt off the still painful wound. Peering down at it, he could see it was far better than when the cleaver had first cut into him.

He quickly re-dressed his wound with what was left clean of his shirt, and put the one he had found on, along with the jacket he suspected belonged to the boy at the hospital.

"Alright…Chance, was it?" Seishiro said, adjusting the slightly too-small jacket. "Now to find you, and get you out of this hell-hole."

Hey ho. Didn't think I'd come back with the sequel so quickly did ya? Haha, it's a lot of fun writing this. But I am trying to get it back to being more canon, you know? I love Silent Hill, and changing it too much isn't any fun. I might make it so that we slowly discover why the hell Seishiro is stuck in this frightening hell on earth of a town or something. I'm really still considering ChanceXSeishiro or SeishiroXChance. Whichever sounds more appealing. Do finish reading 'Chance' if you haven't and please review!