The Room

Title: The Room
Plot, or Lack Thereof: Silent Hill 4 as played by the Phoenix Wright cast.
Reason for Banishment: Basically just a rehash of SH4.


This is ridiculous, Phoenix thought, running a hand through his hair. Trapped, of all places, in my own apartment.

He kicked the door again, but all that did was make the chains rattle against the wooden frame. A second try at the windows proved to be futile as well, and all of his furniture may as well have been nailed to the floor given how he couldn’t seem to lift any of it.

He paced back and forth, contemplating the note written in blood warning him not to go out.

“If this turns out to be Larry’s idea of a prank…” he muttered, wondering just what else was going to go wrong for him.


Phoenix felt his knees go weak.

No. Not even Dahlia deserves this. He ran a hand across her forehead, not caring that her blood was seeping into her clothes. “D—Dollie,” he called, swallowing the lump in his throat.

She let out a weak laugh. “It’s just—a dream—right?” She reached out to touch his face, and he let her, cradling her hand in his.

“—right,” he lied, as much for her as for himself. Of course it was a dream. It had to be. Dahlia was already dead. She couldn’t be lying here, a string of numbers carved into her chest.

“I never got to do that—’special favor’—for you—” Her lips moved again, as if she wanted to say something else, but no more words emerged.

Phoenix shut her unseeing eyes, setting her limp body back onto the floor.


“LARRY!” Phoenix screamed, rushing forward. He had only gotten two or three steps into the house when the intensity of the flames balked him and he could only watch in horror as his friend burned alive before him.

“I finally met him!” Larry declared as he carved ‘17121’ into his torso. “The Devil! He’s coming!”

In desperation, Phoenix just about ripped his jacket off and tried to beat away the flames, but all he accomplished was to lose that to the fire as well. “What are you talking about, Larry? What’s going on here? Tell me, please!”

But Larry had already fallen silent.


“Help!” The faint voice could be heard calling from the other end of the curved hallway. “Get me out of here! He’s gonna kill me!”

Phoenix pulled himself to his feet, moving forward despite the exhaustion he felt to the very core of his soul. This time, he would succeed. This time, he would get answers. This time, he would find a way to beat this place that seemed determined to drive him insane.

Terry Fawles waved at Phoenix as he came into view, the imprisoned man’s eyes lighting with hope. “Oh, thank God! Please, hurry! Don’t let him get me!”


“Say—you look a lot like that Defense Attorney’s kid.”

Hell. He was in hell.

That was the only plausible explanation.

Why else would he be trapped in a service elevator watching Yogi Yanni threaten a young child who bore an eerie resemblance to Edgeworth with a pistol?

“What th’ hell’s goin’ on around here? You have something to do with it, dontcha, ya punk kid?”

“Stop it!” Phoenix shouted, banging on the side of the wire mesh. “Leave him alone!”

But he just kept going down, down, down.

Down.


Phoenix ignored the young Edgeworth lookalike smiling at him with the face of an angel and knelt before Kristoph’s prone figure. “No, Kristoph, not you too—”

“It’s okay, Wright.” Kristoph pulled the bloody ace from the top of his hand and offered it to Phoenix. “You won the game, fair and square.”

Phoenix put a trembling hand on Kristoph’s shoulder, his eyes scanning the room for anything that could be used as makeshift bandages. “Stay still. I’ll get help.”

“It’s okay, Phoenix,” Kristoph repeated with the slightest shake of his head. “It’s over. This is where we part.” Reaching with all his might, he put a hand on the child’s shoe. “Thank you.”


Phoenix ran.

That man—that monster—wasn’t Edgeworth. It couldn’t be. He refused to believe it. Even if everything else was real—not this. Never this.

He turned, and Edgeworth was looming over him. A blood-splattered hand shot out and closed around Phoenix’s throat.

“Just one more,” Edgeworth breathed, bringing up his other hand to fend off Pheonix’s feeble attempts to claw at Edgeworth’s arm. “Just a little longer—”


“And now, the news.

Yesterday, in Ashfield and the woods near Silent Hill, the bodies of five apparent murder victims and a sixth severely wounded male, identified as Defense Attorney Kristoph Gavin, were discovered. Mr. Gavin was immediately rushed to St. Jerome’s Hospital, but died a short time later of his injuries. The last body discovered, believed to be that of its occupant, Phoenix Wright, was found in Room 302 of the South Ashfield Heights Apartment, but the body was reportedly disfigured beyond recognition, making actual identification impossible.”

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