Title: Silent Hill Mega Crossover (Tentative)
Plot, or Lack Thereof: Attempting to weave all of the Silent Hill games together into a single narrative
Reason for Banishment: Too much rehash of the game plots
Other Comments: I think I may have mentioned that I get these horribly over-ambitious ideas every once so often. This was one of them.
As a result of watching the Let’s Plays of the Silent Hill games (I’m too much of a wuss to play them myself) and browsing through various fanart/fanfics, I decided that it’d be awesome if Harry Mason were the center of the Silent Hill universe—that is, all of the protagonists of the Silent Hill games knew Harry somehow. I even worked it out for everybody (defining Walter instead of Henry as SH4’s protagonist) except Alex Shepard, the protagonist of Silent Hill Homecoming.
What killed the impetus to write was probably my lack of familiarity with Silent Hill, as I couldn’t come up with any plot other than an A-plot consisting of a rehash of Silent Hill 4, except with more tag team monster-slaying action (which kind of goes against the whole theme of isolation, paranoia, and despair that Silent Hill’s got), and a B-plot of “after Harry dies, he goes to the Silent Hill equivalent of the Afterlife, and goes to Hell and Back for James (that he knows…somehow), because he’s Fucking Awesome like that”. But if I continued it, I probably would have attempted to write multiple endings for it, including the obligatory “UFO Ending”.
Heather asked herself yet again what she was doing as she made her way up the steps. Wasn’t “too many memories” the reason why she parted ways with Douglas? So why was she in South Ashfield trying to look up James’ whereabouts?
But James was different, she rationalized. James was one of Dad’s friends from back in the happier times when their home was always open and full of people.
Before she realized it she was already knocking on the superintendent’s door.
“Coming, coming.” the door opened, revealing a weathered man who had to be related to James somehow.
Heather worked up her courage to talk. “M—mister Sunderland?”
“Just call me Frank. May I help you?”
“I’m a friend of James—” Heather felt herself blushing when Frank rose an eyebrow at her. “Well, actually, my Dad was, they went to college together. I happen to be in town for a few days, and I was wondering—”
Frank shook his head. “Sorry, miss. I haven’t heard from James in years now. Last time he called he told me he was taking his wife to Silent Hill, and he hasn’t so much as sent a letter since.”
Heather felt her blood run cold. “I see,” she managed. “Well, thanks anyway.”
Stupid, stupid, stupid! she berated herself, descending back into the subway station without a second thought, too angry at herself to pay much heed to the vague sense of dread that she felt in her stomach. She just wanted to get as far away from this place as possible.
Travis pulled over by the side of the road and turned his blinkers on, fighting a wave of exhaustion. He should have stopped for rest hours ago, but his entire body was on edge with a pounding headache that he hadn’t experienced for almost two decades, and the fog was getting too thick to drive through anyway.
“Harry,” he sighed, hand tracing over the cell phone that rested on his dashboard. “Where’d you disappear to?”
Travis first met Harry Mason when he almost ran the poor man off the road on one of those cross-country trips that always left him prone to dozing off. Over dinner he learned that Harry was an aspiring writer struggling to make ends meet, and by the end of the night they ended up splitting the bill on a single room—Harry, by his insistence, took the floor. Travis found that his routes brought him close to where Harry lived, and made sure to stop by as often as he could. Those were happy times, when Travis could pretend that he was still part of a family: Harry, the doting father, Cheryl, the adoring daughter, Travis, the occasional honorary uncle, and that other, real quiet dude that Travis couldn’t quite remember.
Then something happened and they moved away; Harry never talked about it, but Travis’ instincts told him it was something awful. At first, Travis tried to keep in touch, but then the phone calls got fewer and fewer and fewer. By now Travis hadn’t heard from Harry in months, and he was worried.
The pounding in his head grew worse. He tried to see if he was in range of any radio stations to distract himself from the pain, but all he got was a steady stream of static.
Wait a minute. This was getting all too familiar.
The rolling fog.
“Oh, hell, no,” Travis moaned, burying his face in his hands. He didn’t need this. Not now. Not ever.
“The universe hates me,” Heather sighed, kicking away a stray piece of rubble and wishing she had something more to defend herself than a rusty pipe. The initial panic she felt upon descending into what looked like a bad copy of That Goddamn Subway Station had faded away into a persistent sense of irritation. Why this shit again? Why now? Was she doomed to be haunted by her past wherever she went?
Her body seemed to move on its own when a zombie dog lurched into view—she beat it to death and kicked its corpse for good measure without even thinking too much about it. Until she figured out what the hell was going on, there was nothing more that she could do except move forward.
She negotiated the maze of train cars without much incident, though she did have to fight the urge to freak out again when the doors to one train car closed on her. Taking deep breaths to calm herself, Heather tightened the grip on her pipe and struck down the lurching monstrosities that appeared out of thin air to attack her. When the last one fell, the doors opened again and she could just make out what looked like light at the top of a distant staircase. Breaking into a sprint, she made a mad dash for that light, and found herself running full tilt into another person.
Heather stared. She could recognize that vest anywhere. “Uncle Travis?”
The trucker blinked back. “Ale—” he shook his head. “Cheryl!” He broke into a broad smile. “You’re all grown up now!”
Heather gave him a big, crushing hug, squeezing his shoulders to make sure that he was real. “Yeah. What are you doing here?”
“That’s what I wanted to ask you! I just followed the fog and I ended up down here.” Travis’ brows knit with worry. “You don’t think somebody’s stirring up all that stupid ‘god’ business again, do you?”
“I don’t know,” Heather answered, suppressing the urge to shudder. “This feels different than before.”
“Before?” It was Travis’ turn to grab Heather by the shoulders. “Cheryl, what’s been going on with you guys? I haven’t heard from you in weeks, and now we run into each other in a place like this—”
As if the floodgates had opened in Heather’s mind, she found herself bursting into tears and sinking into Travis’ arms. “Oh, Uncle Travis! Daddy’s dead, they killed him and it’s all my fault!”