Play@YSDC

Posted: **Tue Dec 20, 2011 4:59 am**

It's not a pretty bar but it's home. He's spent enough time working there, after all, and preparing for the onrush of customers that comes with the warmer months. It's late spring already, May, and the place is generally fairly pumping by now. Tonight has been pretty damn quiet from what Rochelle said. She's gone home sick and she said she'd close up briefly until you got there. It's still daylight, though, so any alcoholic punters wanting to get their mid-afternoon drinks on shouldn't be too cross. Of course, on a fog-shrouded day like this, there were likely to be quite a few tourists making their way to a brighter spot. Not that Annie's Bar was a particularly flash spot. Still, the location was good, in the Silent Hill Resort Area, on the corner of Bachman Rd. and Craig St. The parking lot is fairly empty when he cruises into a spot though there's an old Cadillac with the bonnet up that is still steaming and making that tck-tck-tck sound of a hot engine cooling. The front door looks locked, and the steel shutters are down over the windows. Not exactly a good look for any possible visitors, but at least it'll keep people's eyes off the gloomy streets.

Posted: **Tue Dec 20, 2011 5:43 am**

Jack let out a yawn as he dug around his pockets for the keys to the darn place. The deck of Tarot Cards fell out from his pockets, scattering its contents all throughout the street.

Jack swore, cursing at whatever deity that was responsible for gravity and careless mistakes. He began to gather up all the cards that fell out and paused at the last one.

"Major Arcana, 13," he muttered, smiling. "Seems like something interesting is in the air, eh?" He picked the final card up.

The door opened with a small creak. Jack grimaced. He would have to get someone to oil that soon. He moved over behind the counter and checked the stock. It was almost a robotic response now, really, checking out the stock of liquour behind the counter to make sure that some hooligan didn't break in to help himself to free drinks. It never happened, of course, but Rochelle was insistent.

One would think, Jack thought with a smile, that the first response would be to check if nobody had stolen the shotgun behind the counter, but Jack shook himself from the thought. Customers would arrive soon, and he had to make this place pretty for that.

Posted: **Tue Dec 20, 2011 5:55 am**

Annie's Bar isn't the biggest pub around but it did the job. It was the place folk came to drink in a cozy place with the rustic atmosphere that sold so many tickets and hotel rooms in this little resort town. It didn't feel too resort-y at the moment when the fog rolled in off the lake, but that was just the way things went sometimes. It was just a shame there wasn't a fireplace to get the damn chill out of the air. Rochelle was such a miser, she must've switched off the heating when she left. How that was going to encourage folks to stay in was anyone's guess. Warm air sold more drinks. Besides, even Jack was starting to feel a little chilled. The controls for the heating were in her office in the back area, opposite the little kitchen.

Posted: **Tue Dec 20, 2011 12:46 pm**

One would have expected the heating to be close to the bar area, where people were, instead of all the way back in the office.

Jack muttered out several curses as he made his way to the office.

Posted: **Tue Dec 20, 2011 10:56 pm**

Jack's grumbled complaint to himself conjures up an image of a time when the heaters would turn themselves on and off at random times and it was thought that one of the customers was doing it on purpose so they moved the controls into the office. Of course, they forgot that there's normally only 1 person working here (sometimes 2) and it's pretty awkward having to leave the bar to go adjust the heating and cooling. Then again, who is Silent Hill thought ahead like that? He reaches the office door and jigs the handle. Locked. Pulling out his keys, he tries to insert the right one but it doesn't go in. Is there something stuck in there?

Posted: **Tue Dec 20, 2011 11:22 pm**

Spoiler:

Jack frowned, and pulled out a lockpicking kit from his pockets.

"Is there anything in the town that's not broken?" He wondered out aloud. He wasn't an expert at picking locks... He just learned how to do it when Rochelle forgot to give him the key to the place for the umpteenth time. He felt good this time, however. He fooled around with the lock until he could feel something click.

Posted: **Wed Dec 21, 2011 12:11 am**

Turns out the click wasn't the tumblers turning. There truly was something caught inside but the fancy lockpicks (and Rochelle scoffed when he bought the kit) do manage to dislodge something that falls out the other side. Then, and only then, is he able to turn the tumblers and get the door unlocked. Brushing open the door into the back office, he sees something lying on the floor. It looks like a tooth! The rest of the office looks as it should be. The steel shutters are down over the outside, which is usual, since Rochelle hates to see the fog press against the windows. She says it makes her feel depressed. The desk is neatly ordered and the computer shut off. The heater control panel is to the right of the steel locker, just above the filing cabinet where she keeps her tax forms and her collection of telly tubby paraphernalia. There's a lot of paper scrunched up and dropped in the waste paper bin and an upended bottle of pain killers lying beside the bin. The good kind. Migraine pain killers that can leave you dizzy. There's a few pills that have spilled from the bottle.

Posted: **Wed Dec 21, 2011 1:27 am**

"A tooth," Jack muttered. "A tooth. Because...that's not creepy at all."

He picked the tooth up. Hang on. How did Rochelle get out of office if the tooth was stuck in the lock?

A sick grin flashed across his face, and he leapt into the office chair. "BWAHAHAHA!" He said. "I am Rochelle, Evil Overlordess Magnificent! How shall I torment Jack, that worthless Bartender, more?!"

Jack leapt out of the chair. "I do not know, Mistress," he said, sitting subserviently on the floor towards the empty office chair. "Perhaps a more subtle kind of pain and misery would be suitable this time."

"Yes, my nameless minion, who is also a voice in my head," said Jack, as he leapt back into the office chair. "I know what I shall do! A closed room mystery! How did Rochelle escape from a locked room with something wedged in the lock... FROM THE INSIDE?!?!"

"A most brilliant plan, mistress," said Jack as he leapt out of the chair. "But surely, we can be more...ehh...creepy...with the thing? Perhaps a dead body or..."

"Hmm... you are right," Jack interrupted Jack as he clambered back into the chair. "I know! I'll wedge the lock... with your tooth!"

"Argh! Don't hurt me, Mistress!"

"Mwahahaha... and he'll totally be creeped out the next time he appears! Meanwhile, I'll leave through the windows and close the shutter behind me!"

"What about me, mistress?"

"Oh, you can go into the cabinet along with the rest of the skeletons."

"I should stop," Jack said as he shook the dust off of his clothes. He placed the tooth in his pockets. "I would hate to think of what would happen if people actually saw me do that."

He moved over to the locker and clicked on the heater.

Posted: **Wed Dec 21, 2011 1:38 am**

The heaters whir into life and he feels cold puffs of air coming from the Central Heating ducts as the cold air is expelled and the machine starts heating up the next set of air. It'll be a lot nicer once it gets warm and toasty in here. Shame it's icy cold at the moment and the puffs of air are icier still. As he checks the themometer on the heater (7 degrees Celsius in here, what's that in Fahrenheit? Stupid Australian Rochelle...), hehears a faint rattling sound coming from inside the metal locker. It even shakes slightly as something moves inside of it.

Posted: **Wed Dec 21, 2011 1:57 am**

Jack looked blankly at the metal locker for a few moments. "Skelly? Is that you?" he said. "WELL I AM HAVING NONE OF IT!" he stormed off to the bar and grabbed the Sawn Off Remington 870 shotgun. Fully Loaded.

"SURPRISE!" Jack said as he pulled open the metal locker.

Posted: **Wed Dec 21, 2011 2:11 am**

The locker appears to be empty of anything but one of Rochelle's leather jackets and a pair of high heels. Then something moves against the heels and he peers down to see a little brown tabby kitten. It gazes up at him and meows plaintively. There appears to be a note stapled to its bow tie collar.

Posted: **Wed Dec 21, 2011 2:18 am**

"A kitten," Jack said. "So, little guy, what are you doing in the mysterious locked room in the dilapated creepy bar in the middle of a fog filled creepy town?"

The kitten meowed. Jack sighed. "Some day, I am going to teach your kind how to communicate with human kind. Oh what's this? A bow tie collar? And a note on it!"

He carefully removed the note from the kitten, being careful not to mess up its collar in the process.

"Let's see," he said, opening the note while keeping a firm hand on the cat. "What does the mysterious note say..."

Posted: **Wed Dec 21, 2011 2:25 am**

The note states in rough black penmanship: FOR KATIE, Don't Eat It, A.G.

Posted: **Wed Dec 21, 2011 2:30 am**

Jack nodded understandingly and grabbed the kitten. "Now you are a popular guy. Or a gal. I am not all too familiar with cat biology," he said.

He walked over to the counter and placed the cat next to him. "You stay there and be quiet, m'kay?"

The cat meowed.

"Good kitty," he said. He whistled out a few tones as he took out a rag and cleaned the bar.

Posted: **Wed Dec 21, 2011 2:46 am**

A dog barked somewhere outside and the kitten flattened its ears and hissed. Silent Hill has always had trouble with stray dogs attacking people. That cute Doctor Stacey McIntosh from the Emergency Department over at Alchemilla Hospital always complains about how the locals don't take care of their dogs. Dog attacks are one of the leading non-alcohol-induced causes of emergency ward visits some months. Okay, so maybe Dr. McIntosh may have been exaggerating but there were always a fair number and he didn't remember New York having such trouble with animals. Luckily, the dogs didn't seem to be rabid, though that didn't help the poor suckers who had to take the rabies shots, just in case.

Without any customers, its real quiet in here. There's no sound of traffic or people outside as the fog muffles everything. It's just him, his whistled tune, and the odd dog bark. Where were all the customers, anyway? It was nearing 7 PM and this place was normally jumping. As Jack's gaze flits to the clock hidden beneath the counter (so customers don't see it and realise what the time was), he realises that it's broken and stuck on 7 PM. Or maybe the batteries have just died.

Maybe having the Juke Box play some tunes might actually attract some clientele. If anyone could hear it outside through all that God Forsaken Fog.

Posted: **Wed Dec 21, 2011 3:13 am**

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wpNk860pTO4

He clicked on the Jukebox.

Posted: **Wed Dec 21, 2011 3:48 am**

The Jukebox starts pelting out some tunes and the heaters are now working sufficiently enough to start warming up the bar. With the chill gone and the silent broken, this place is starting to feel more like a pub in a thriving resort town. Now all he needs to do is wait for some customers. Everything is a little bit dusty (the dust gets into everything here) but most pub punters don't much care about a little bit of dust so long as it's not in their pint. He even has a kitten which will doubtless cause all the women around to Nawww at and chat to him about it. Kittens were great like that.

The pub telephone starts ringing.

Posted: **Wed Dec 21, 2011 3:51 am**

"Hello! Annie's Bar!" he cried out cheerfully as he snatched up the phone. The kitten let out a yelp as it quickly dodged Jack's foot.

Posted: **Wed Dec 21, 2011 3:53 am**

The telephones are obviously on the fritz again as the telephone crackles slightly before a woman's voice asks: "Oh god, Jack, are you hurt?" It sounds like Rochelle but her voice is strangely tight.

The kitten glares balefully up at him and then pauses to lick its paw and brush it across its head whispers.

Posted: **Wed Dec 21, 2011 4:00 am**

"Nope, why would I be?" Jack said, still smiling. "How did you lock your office from the inside with a tooth, by the way?"

Posted: **Wed Dec 21, 2011 4:18 am**

"There's so much bl-" The telephone cuts out, leaving you with nothing but a dial tone.

The kitten begins to growl ominously, staring at the shuttered windows.

Posted: **Wed Dec 21, 2011 4:26 am**

Jack frowned and took out his cellphone. "Maybe the phone line is bad," he thought as he moved towards the windows. He punched in Rochelle's numbers into the numberpad as he looked for a way to open the shutters.

Posted: **Wed Dec 21, 2011 4:32 am**

The telephone picks up on the eighth ring and a little girl's voice answers: "Hello?"

The shutters are operated manually. You'd have to go outside, unclip them, and push them up to open up the windows as they're external to the building. They're also locked, though there's a spare key to them beneath the cash register tray.

Posted: **Wed Dec 21, 2011 4:38 am**

"Why hello there," Jack said, still with an odd smile. "May I speak to Rochelle, please?"

He moved over to the cash register tray and picked up the key and also pulled out his switchblade. "And who would the owner of this lovely voice be?"

Posted: **Wed Dec 21, 2011 4:51 am**

"Oh, it's you!" mutters the voice on the other end, sounding fully exasperated. "I already know you!"

Posted: **Wed Dec 21, 2011 4:57 am**

"Do you now," Jack said, leaving the bar through the front door. He clicked the switchblade out once and then immediately retracted it. "You know, it's rude if you don't tell the other guy your name when making a conversation."

Posted: **Wed Dec 21, 2011 5:03 am**

"Don't you remember me?" she asked, sounding genuinely confused and quizzical.

The phone erupts into static briefly as you leave the store and step out onto the foggy streets. Boy, the fog is so dense that you can't see more than a dozen paces ahead of yourself. The electrical poles, kerb-side bins, and your own parked car are just murky silhouettes in the distance and they're within that radius. It's quiet out here. The dogs have stopped barking and that just leaves an eerie silence. There's no traffic about. None at all. It's so quiet you can vaguely make out the sounds of the lake lapping against the shore. Or ... is it something slurping just behind your car?

"You can call me Cynthia, if you like." She sounds like she couldn't be any older than six.

Posted: **Wed Dec 21, 2011 5:09 am**

Jack stared at his car for a few seconds before replying.

"Really? Cynthia, eh? Refresh my memories... when was the last time you saw me? And how did you get Rochelle's phone number?"

Posted: **Wed Dec 21, 2011 5:19 am**

"Oh, Jack, you're silly," she says and giggles. "We met at the hospital, don't you rememeber? Alchemilla? Well, it was a time ago. Maybe you don't remember me. I remember you."

Posted: **Wed Dec 21, 2011 7:10 am**

"I am afraid that I must have forgotten, Cynthia," Jack said, now back to his odd smile. "I've only been to the place like... once...twice? Thrice? in my whole life."

"So, uhh, Cynthia," Jack said. "How have you been?"

Posted: **Wed Dec 21, 2011 8:18 am**

Jack hears a door slam somewhere on the other side of the phone line and she gasped. "Oh no, I gotta go." There's a click as she hangs up the telephone and he's left standing in the swirling fog. At least the slurping sounds from behind his car seemed to have cleared up. Other than that, there is absolute silence.

Posted: **Wed Dec 21, 2011 3:23 pm**

"Damn it!" Jack muttered. He turned to the shutters and inserted the keys to their lock. "Let's see if this, at least, works."

Posted: **Thu Dec 22, 2011 12:26 am**

The key turns smoothly in the locks and he unlatches them and rolls them up, shoving them up toward the top one by one, with the rattle of moving metal that sounds bone jarringly loud in the absolute quiet of the fog-shrouded streets. Just as he's finished putting up the second one, there's a great WHUMP as something thunks into the side of his car, setting the car alarm into screeching hysterics. As he instinctively turns to look, there's a second WHUMP that lifts the car up onto two wheels, the other side must've come a full foot off the ground, and then the car settles back down.

Posted: **Thu Dec 22, 2011 1:04 am**

Jack madly darted back into the bar and behind the counter. The kitten was on the counter, still hissing at the window.

He grabbed the shotgun. Whatever the thing was, it could lift the car up. So it was either a very drunk circus showman or the Lake Toluca Monster. Or a very drunk Rochelle. He wouldn't be surprised.

Spoiler:

He silently crept out of the bar, shotgun in hand. Using the mist as cover, he quietly began stepping towards his car to see what the commotion was all about.

Posted: **Thu Dec 22, 2011 1:11 am**

Rushing out into the fog-shrouded streets, he sees that two further knocks have pushed his car out of alignment with the park and the bonnet now sits firmly in the parking bay beside it. Circling around the vehicle, he sees thick blood spatters on the asphalt behind it that seem to grow in frequency as he makes his way around. He can't hear anything through the silence so if it's there it's either incredibly still or gone. Still, those blood spatters are a bad sign. If he fully rounds the vehicle, he'll have committed himself to confronting whatever sight is beyond it but if he runs back into the store, he may never know what's out there.

Posted: **Thu Dec 22, 2011 1:16 am**

Spoiler:

He considered running back to the store, but then he remembered what he was holding in his hand and shook his head from the thought. Whatever the bloody creature was, it was going down.

He rounded the vehicle, crouching to avoid detection.

Posted: **Thu Dec 22, 2011 1:32 am**

Jack rounds the vehicle, crouching low behind the boot, his shoes barely whispering across the asphalt with each step. He sees it allwith great precision, taking in each moment as it comes on an adrenaline impulse. The blood spatters are thick globs with lines of spray pointing in the direction something behind the car. He inches around it and can make out a blood-smeared sneaker. With another few steps, he sees its connected to blood-spattered jeans. The denim moves uninterrupted until about the mid-thigh where it seems soaked red and dipped into the thigh. No, wait, the denim has disappeared and the thigh meat itself is visible. The denim is frayed, no, congealed, around where the meat begins and as he trails around closer he can see pelvic bones jutting up out of a soupy syrup of meat juice, blood, and the odd yellow goo of organs. There's a sharp chemical tang to the air. An unmistakable (though unidentifiable) chemical tang to the air. The soupy organs are imperfectly collected within a partially exposed abdomen and ribcage, as though whatever souped it up hadn't attacked the body's sides or much of its back though obviously some of the soup has leaked out. The upper chest is intact, though bloody, as is the neck, but the head itself has been pounded into shattered bone and leaked gray matter. It's not so much goo as pounded gibbets. Judging by the flecks of bone and brain smeared across this side of the car, you think he may have been standing during all of this. The car itself has been dented in several places all along one side. At least one of those dents is about two inches deep and six inches wide. In fact, all of them are kind of wide, even the ones that aren't as deep.

A set of bloodied prints, indistinct and hazy, set off into the fog-shrouded streets.

Sanity loss: 0/1d4.

Posted: **Thu Dec 22, 2011 1:40 am**

Spoiler:

Right. Jack thought. He fished the cellphone out of his pockets and called 911.

Not that he thought that it would help. He walked back to his bar and sat down next to the kitten as he made his call, setting down the shotgun serenely on the counter. "Lot of crazy things happening in this town, eh?" he said to the kitten.

The kitten meowed.

Posted: **Thu Dec 22, 2011 1:46 am**

Jack hears an engaged tone over the cellphone.

Posted: **Thu Dec 22, 2011 2:00 am**

"Damn it! A plague! A plague upon you, cell phone!" He yelled at the useless machine. "A plague upon both your houses! And your summer homes!"

Jack slammed a fist against the counter.

"Hey cat!" he said to the kitten. "Do you know how to get to Rochelle?"

Cat meowed.

"I guess not," Jack said with a sigh. So, aside from the creepy closed room mystery, there was apparently a dead body lying against his car. Rochelle was nowhere to be found, and the police could not be reached.

He wandered into the office and picked up the bottle of painkillers. "I'm not tripping on these, am I?" he said.

Cat meowed in a disagreeing tone.

"Nope, definitely not," he said, pocketing them. Say, the dead man was probably trying to get to the bar. That meant that whatever it was out there, it was killing his customers. Then it may... come and get him!

"Well, I won't be taken down easily!" Jack said, growling. He wandered back over to the counter and waited.

And waited.

And waited.

Posted: **Thu Dec 22, 2011 2:02 am**

Posted: **Thu Dec 22, 2011 2:09 am**

Spoiler:

Posted: **Thu Dec 22, 2011 2:15 am**

Standing behind the open bar in front of two open windows with the lights on inside does tend to make you feel a little exposed, although you can see anything approaching the door from at least ten feet away from the storefront. Still, his hands tire on the shotgun before anything happens which just ratchets up the anticipation of something coming to pass. The kitten ends up coming to the precipice that is the edge of the counter, peeking down, and meowing plaintively as it's not brave enough to take the jump but obviously wants to come down. Apparently the kitten hasn't discovered the bar stools on the other side of the counter that would provide a convenient step down.

Posted: **Thu Dec 22, 2011 2:18 am**

Jack sighed, put the shotgun down, and picked up the kitten, setting it down on the floor.

Posted: **Thu Dec 22, 2011 2:19 am**

The kitten immediately latches onto Jack's hand as a ball of playful fury, claws and teeth digging in like a dozen tiny needles.

Posted: **Thu Dec 22, 2011 2:25 am**

Jack pulled out the shotgun from the counter, put the barrel against the demon's back, and pulled the trig-

Nah. There will be too many questions. Besides, it was a waste of ammo. He had to save some for the drunk circus strongman/Toccassy/Rochelle. Jack sighed. He should have seen it coming that the kitten was a fiend. "Hey, get off!" he said, trying to shake the kitten off.

Posted: **Thu Dec 22, 2011 2:35 am**

The kitten glances up at you in shock and horror as you begin trying to shake it off, and it clings on for dear life, ears perked up rather than flattened against its head now that you've decided to try to fling it off your hand. Oddly enough, it stays on and you realise that you've been grappled by a kitten. Luckily, it's only the palm of your hands its attached itself too.

Oh well, at least it removes some of the stress of the situation. Or at least, the seriousness of it.

Posted: **Thu Dec 22, 2011 2:43 am**

"AAAAARRRRGH!!!" Jack said, beating the kitten to death against the counter. "THE PAIN! THE PAIN!!!"

Nope. Wait. He just cleaned the damn bar. He put the frightened kitten on the floor and began to try to pry the mouth open.

Posted: **Thu Dec 22, 2011 2:46 am**

Once the kitten is near the ground it drops off and stares up at you with big, cute eyes and meows at you. It then proceeds to rub its furry side all over your shoes, purring like a mini lawn mower.

Posted: **Thu Dec 22, 2011 2:49 am**

"Good Kitty," Jack said. "I ain't patting yah."

Posted: **Thu Dec 22, 2011 2:53 am**

Now that the kitten is safely on the ground and he can return his attention to the window, he sees that the fog hasn't lifted and there's no one in sight. How did that man die anyhow? And who killed him? It'll be getting dark soon within the hour and then where will he be? At that point, there's a faint hiss from the heaters as the power goes out. Hopefully, it's just one of the fuses that have blown. Rochelle keeps spare fuses in a locker in the cramped cellar but the fuse box itself is up in the kitchen area. Well, at least he won't starve. Alternatively, there's a flashlight in Rochelle's desk drawer that he could use to keep the place lit enough to see by. It'll be a pain balancing the shotgun and the flashlight together, though.

Posted: **Thu Dec 22, 2011 2:58 am**

"Oh, White Claudia, a Blackout!" Jack muttered. "You know, in horror movies, this is always the time when the monster decides to jump the protagonists. Whelp. Time to play god!"

He brandished the shotgun threateningly at nothing in particular. The kitten meowed encouragingly.

"Why thank you," Jack said to the kitten. He moved over to Rochelle's Office, grabbed the flashlight, and stuffed it into his pocket. No reason NOT to steal it. It's Rochelle's after all, and it was her fault that the place was so breaking down.

He opened the cellar door.

Posted: **Thu Dec 22, 2011 3:11 am**

The cellar door is a trap door behind the bar counter. The bar itself is gloomy with only the filtered light from outside lighting up the place (good thing he opened those shutters) but that gloom isn't enough to really light up the cellar. Crates and boxes and casks loom up here and there as vague silhouettes. Unfortunately, the locker box sits between two towering piles of boxes of girly pre-mixers on the opposite side of the over crowded cellar. Even if the monster doesn't get him, the ankle bruisers will. He pulls out the flashlight and slides the switch-y thing and ... nothing happens. Opening the back it up, he sees that there's no batteries inside. Where did Rochelle keep the spare batteries?

Oh yeah, in the lock box with the other odds and ends.

Posted: **Thu Dec 22, 2011 4:01 am**

Jack peered down into the darkness of the cellar and tried to listen to hear if anything was even remotely alive in the cellar.

"Maybe I can use the kitten as bait to lure it out," Jack muttered.

Posted: **Thu Dec 22, 2011 4:23 am**

The cellar is deathly still and quiet, which oddly enough just makes it all the more ominous. The thought strikes Jack: While he was sneaking around one side of the car, could the killer have snuck around the other side and gotten into the bar?

Posted: **Thu Dec 22, 2011 4:46 am**

"See," Jack said to the kitten. "If I had a handgrenade, we wouldn't be having this problem right now. So, kitty, did you see a homicidal maniac walk into the bar? Just one? Two? Three?"

Hang on a second, Jack smiled. He had a lighter. Thank God for his smoking habits. He began to search the bar and the office for things that he could light to provide a source for..well...light.

Posted: **Thu Dec 22, 2011 4:50 am**

There are plenty of flasks of hard liquor that could have a rag stuffed down the mouth... No, wait, too much fire. He could make a flaming cocktail. There's chair legs if he broke one off. There's the pool table cues. Either of those could be wrapped in rags. Paper could be taken out and lit up though that'd burn pretty fast.

Posted: **Thu Dec 22, 2011 4:55 am**

Jack donned his trench coat and stuffed the sawn-off shotgun somewhere in his clothes so that he could whip it out in an emergency. "Don't try this at home," he said to the cat.

He took a bottle of hard liquor and stuffed a rag down it. It was a cheap one anyhow. Rochelle wouldn't miss it too much.

He took out a lighter, flicked it to life, and descended into the gloom of the cellar, with the home-made molotov cocktail in the other hand.

Posted: **Thu Dec 22, 2011 5:23 am**

The flickering lighter provides very little light but luckily he's not exactly descending from a well-lit room into a pitch black room. More a man coming from a gloomy room into a pitch black one. He can see the huddled masses of the various crates, boxes, and other assorted items as he heads down the steps. Once off the stairs, his shoes retort against the bricks, sounding harsh in the cramped confines of the room. He smacks his shins against one crate (that was bound to happen) and continues with little more than a bruise. He can just make out the glint of metal in the vague light of his lighter when the lighter itself becomes a wee bit too hot to hold. Shame it had to be a safety lighter.

Still, he grits his teethand gets on with it, crouching down to pull open the lockbox (luckily it's not locked) and then rummaging around inside for spare fuses and batteries sized for the flashlight. Unfortunately, it's a mess of random oddities filling that lockbox and it's difficult to see anything in the gloom.

Unfortunately, that's when the lighter really begins to hurt.

Posted: **Thu Dec 22, 2011 5:36 am**

Jack quickly shut off the lighter and took out his shotgun, putting the bottle somewhere in the pockets of his trench coat.

Posted: **Thu Dec 22, 2011 5:40 am**

Being as the bottle is open and simply clogged with cloth, and he's crouched down, there is the risk that it'll spill within his coat if he did need to run and gun. Of course, his pockets are deep enough that that is hardly much of a risk but he bears it in mind as he slips the bottle in his trenchcoat. He waits for several bone chilling moments and he's sure he can hear something tap-tap-tap its way down the stairs but he can't make anything out in the gloom. Has the fog somehow invaded the cellar? Even the silhouette of gloomy light seems somewhat gauzy.

Posted: **Thu Dec 22, 2011 5:47 am**

He clicked the lighter back open and looked around quickly.

Posted: **Thu Dec 22, 2011 5:50 am**

The lighter's still warm but no longer dangerously so. The sudden flicker of light is met with a churlish meow as the tiny kitten comes into view and pads over toward Jack. Nope, still no sign of the killer. Maybe there's no one down here. There doesn't seem to be any nooks and crannies where a circus freak can hide.

Posted: **Thu Dec 22, 2011 5:53 am**

Jack sighed, and began to search the locker more throughly.

Posted: **Thu Dec 22, 2011 5:58 am**

This time Jack manages to find both the spare fuses and the spare batteries (kept in two different pencil cases, of course). He's got enough batteries to get his flashlight working and, if they're fully charged, that should give him about a day's worth of juice. Of course, some batteries will only see him through the night but surely that's all he'll need. Unless Rochelle put half-used batteries in here. Or even empty ones. The kitten hops up onto his shoe as he searches, pricks the shoe with its claws to make itself comfortable, and then is curled up and trying to sleep by the time he's found them.

Posted: **Thu Dec 22, 2011 6:04 am**

Jack set the shotgun down and fit batteries into the flashlight. He clicked it on, and then clicked off the lighter once he was done.

He put the shotgun back into some hidden depth in the trench coat and then gently cradled the cat. He turned towards the gloom and went up the stairs.

Posted: **Thu Dec 22, 2011 6:20 am**

The flashlight works perfectly now. He does feel a lot more comfortable. He's only got two more spare pockets, though, but hopefully he shouldn't have to carry any more oddments. He can fit the kitten into one of the pockets, if he'd like to, as the pockets are so deep the kitten is unlikely to be able to climb out with any ease and he'd have plenty of warning if it tried to do so. As the flashlight roams across the walls, you notice that there's white spray paint graffitti beneath the stairs that you tells you: Those Who Wait In Silence Die In Silence.

Posted: **Thu Dec 22, 2011 6:29 am**

"Thanks," Jack said. If he had a hat, he would be tipping it now to the graffiti. "I'll be sure to keep that in mind."

He put the kitten in one of his pockets and went upstairs, picking up the shotgun as soon as he got a free hand. "Now where's that darn fusebox?"

Posted: **Thu Dec 22, 2011 6:33 am**

The fusebox is in the kitchen. The entrance to which is opposite Rochelle's office. The "Staff Only" door between the bar and the short corridor stands ajar. Did you leave it open when you collected the flashlight? Or has someone been recently through here? Approaching the doorway, Jack can easily see slight bloody smears heading from the front door through the "Staff Only" corridor. It's getting cold again, already, despite the fact that the heaters haven't been off for very long. Or maybe it's just the fear. Whoever killed that man killed him messily, albeit quickly, and was strong enough to dent your car (are you even insured against a man's fists?).

Posted: **Thu Dec 22, 2011 6:48 am**

Jack pulled out his Molotov cocktail, set it aside on the counter, and then took out his shotgun. Whatever's in there could dent cars, but a shotgun could punch right through cars.

Jack managed to, with all the skill of a ninja, if ninjas had shotgun, to sneak silently into the corridor. His flashlight was off, of course. And, although he couldn't hear anything in particular, He could just make out the shales in the darkness.

Posted: **Thu Dec 22, 2011 6:57 am**

The doorway to your left is slightly ajar just as the first one had been. At first he can't hear anything, but then he hears a dish crash down from the sink and shatter across the tiles. Yeesh! That's something he's going to have to tidy up. The kitten growls quietly but it's largely muffled in the coat. You don't think it's loud enough to draw hiss attention, and even if it did, the circus freak won't be expecting a man with a shotgun to be stepping around the corner.

Posted: **Thu Dec 22, 2011 12:54 pm**

Spoiler:

Posted: **Thu Dec 22, 2011 3:10 pm**

Roll for initiative, Jack thought as he rounded the corner and pointed the shotgun at the direction of the sink.

Posted: **Thu Dec 22, 2011 9:34 pm**

A shadowy figure stands by the sink, its dark clothing hanging from it in tattered rags, as the figure lurches with a drunken stagger just past the sink. It's hard to make out the details of whoever it is but it doesn't seem large enough or muscular enough to have been responsible for damaging his car, at least. Maybe it's an injured patron? He could get that lucky. The kitten continues to growl loudly in his pocket.

Posted: **Thu Dec 22, 2011 10:17 pm**

"Hey, DUMBASS, enjoying the bar?!" Jack yelled at the figure, keeping his shotgun carefully aimed a the person.

Spoiler:

Posted: **Fri Dec 23, 2011 12:18 am**

The figure swept around and it's proportions, or the way it moves, the sickening drunken swagger, seems to ratchet up your feeling of unease. There's a scent to the air. One of piss, puss, stale sweat, and staler liquour that assaults your nostrils. The figure staggers towards you through the gloom and there seems to be something wrong with its left hand or perhaps its holding something triangular. It's too dark to tell but you can at least make it out well enough to know its likely trouble.

Posted: **Fri Dec 23, 2011 1:25 am**

"F*** this," Jack muttered. He pulled the trigger.

Bang! Pellets from the shotgun hit the target with Enough force to incapacitate a normal person.

Posted: **Fri Dec 23, 2011 1:29 am**

The bullets tore through the creature as it swaggers forward, the odd hand held low, the other swinging up behind it as though to help it keep its balance. More of that cloth (is it cloth?) tatters and something foul spatters against the wall behind it. As he struggles to pull the shotgun down the last few inches from the recoil, it staggers the final few paces and breathes fetid breath from same gaping hole of a mouth, it's so dark he can't see its features, it doesn't cry out, doesn't scream, just slumps forward against him. As he instinctively tries to push it off and move away from it, he feels its rubbery flesh and realises the tattered 'cloth' is extra skin hanging loosely from it in ribbons. It hits the ground beside him and thrashes about, nails raking against tiles, and something hard smacking down against and again from its other hand.

Posted: **Fri Dec 23, 2011 2:08 am**

Jack quickly pointed his shotgun at the creature in point blank range, then fired, obliterating the creature.

Posted: **Fri Dec 23, 2011 2:12 am**

The creature is now a spattered mess. It's only now that the adrenaline is beginning to die down, that other details filter into his shocked mind. There was a noise out by the front door. A woman's voice calling out. Not panicked nor angry. He can't remember any of the other details. He sure wasn't paying attention. He could always go out and check or he could fix the fuse box first. It should be an easy matter to replace a broken fuse and then he'd have lights and heat to chase away the damn cold.

Posted: **Fri Dec 23, 2011 2:16 am**

Spoiler:

Posted: **Fri Dec 23, 2011 2:18 am**

Posted: **Fri Dec 23, 2011 2:27 am**

"Just my luck," Jack sighed. "Just a minute!" Jack yelled out as he left the kitchen and towards the bar.

"Huh, there's no one here," Jack muttered. Maybe the shotgun drove them off. He walked up to the window and squinted out into the gloom.

Posted: **Fri Dec 23, 2011 3:17 am**

The woman's voice comes from behind the door again. "Who's in there? Is... it safe?" Through the window, a little of her profile is visible: the outline of her nose, her mouth, a lock of brown hair.

Cecilia's heart is pounding. This man - whoever he is - has presumably just shot someone, or avoided being shot himself. Is she really so desperate, to put herself in danger like this?

Yes. Yes, she is. There isn't much left for her to lose at this point. If she can't find Katie, how will she live with herself?

Posted: **Fri Dec 23, 2011 3:29 am**

Jack pulled open the door and stepped out. "Well..." he paused. "Hey, I recognize you! Ash, was it? Or was it Cecilia? Welcome back to Annie's Bar!" Jack said friendlily, which, unfortunately, did not have the same effect when he was holding a shotgun by one hand.

"Come on in! I insist! You sound as if you need a drink, hon. I just need to get the electricity fixed. I'll be riight back."

Jack hurried back into the kitchen to fix the fusebox.

Posted: **Fri Dec 23, 2011 4:06 am**

A curious meow sounds from one of the man's pockets and something bulging in one of the pockets seems to move. But then he's off and heading back into the kitchen where the corpse lies in a spreading pool of blood.

Posted: **Fri Dec 23, 2011 4:17 am**

Cecilia shrinks away from the entrance when it opens. There's a man she doesn't recognize, brandishing a shotgun and talking to her like they're old friends. Really, there's only one response that comes to mind: "Who the hell are you?"

At least he seems friendly, even if he makes about as much sense as the rest of this town. Welcome back? She's never been to Silent Hill in her life.

"You must have me mistaken for someone else," she says, walking into the bar. At least there isn't so much fog. How does he know my name?

When he leaves, Cecilia spends a few seconds standing near the door until it swings closed, startling her. Her nerves are on fire today. She sits on one of the bar stools and glances around, fidgeting.

The electricity's out, so there's obviously no way to use the phone in here. Maybe she can get cell service now, but is it even worth trying?

Posted: **Fri Dec 23, 2011 4:31 am**

"No... No... I definitely remember!" Jack yelled from the kitchen, jumping over the carcass. "You don't? Don't you remember? I'm shocked! I am Jack, the Bartender."

He tried to fumble open the fusebox. "All this floundering about in the darkness is really starting to annoy me. you?" Jack said. "Gotta admit, the place's falling apart! Your name is Ash, right?"

He repaired the fuse.

Posted: **Fri Dec 23, 2011 4:40 am**

It's a fairly simple matter to replace a missing fuse with a new fuse and once it's all put together he flips the switch and the lights come back on. The air in the pipes have somehow managed to cool down in the interim, however, so they're both rewarded with blasts of cold air through the vents. At least with the lights on the place seems kinda homey and the music on the jukebox is kind of nice. There's even two pool tables in here (there used to be four but they replaced two for tables when Rochelle bought the pub). Unfortunately, the creepy fog outside the windows kinda removes some of the cozy mystique. As do the light smears of blood that head from the front door to the 'Staff Only' door. At least, judging by the coasters, this place is Annie's Bar.

Posted: **Fri Dec 23, 2011 5:49 am**

"I've never been here, and I don't know you," she calls, tapping her nails on the counter. "I'm just here on vacation... at least, I was." Cecilia knows a few Jacks - the name is everywhere - but none of them are bartenders, and they don't act like... that.

When the electricity comes on, she shivers. It's May, which means she shouldn't need a coat, so she didn't bother to pack one. She crosses her legs and rubs her hands together.

Wait. Did he say Ash? That's the woman who called her. "No, I'm Cecilia. Cecilia Brooks. Is Ash a friend of yours?" She reaches into her purse and pulls out her wallet. Katie's picture is there, beaming at the camera, a gap in her teeth where she'd lost one.

"I'm looking for my daughter." She runs a finger along the edges of the photograph, waiting for Jack to return. If this Ash knows Katie, and Jack knows Ash, then maybe he can tell her something.

Posted: **Fri Dec 23, 2011 6:37 am**

Cecilia pulls out a photograph but rather than it being the simple one of Katie on her own it's a family picture taken of them on vacation. Katie's the adorable one in the middle of the picture. It's odd, though. That wasn't the picture she was intending to pull out.

Posted: **Fri Dec 23, 2011 2:33 pm**

"I knew it!" Jack shouted from the kitchen. His voice had an oddly familiar tone "Cecilia! The lawyer! Yeah, I remember. You were here yesterday. Ordered Bloody Mary. Sorry, my memory isn't what it used go be, considering all the crazy stuff that happened today. Confused you with another woman. Do you know what happened to me today?"

Jack emerged from the kitchen, holding an armful of foods and a shotgun. "Do you want an apple? There was a lot of them in the kitchen. Maybe some cheese?"

Posted: **Fri Dec 23, 2011 4:02 pm**

The longer she's here, the more she's beginning to think that this was some elaborate plot engineered by someone who works at the firm. If only she could really believe that.

"Tell me how you know me." Cecilia stands, pressing the heels of her hands into the countertop. She meets his eyes with a glare, and takes a long, shaky breath in. "Because I have never been to Silent Hill. Not yesterday, not ever, not until today. Are you listening?"

She glances at the shotgun among his armful of food. "Put the gun down, and give me a straight answer."

One thing that's really on her mind is whether or not this man is as crazy as he seems.

Posted: **Fri Dec 23, 2011 5:01 pm**

Jack frowned once she started glaring at him. "Uhh..." he said. "Sure," he dumped the food and the shotgun in the counter between them and turned around to the cabinets. "I didn't hit you that strong with the Bloody Mary, did I? I know I make too strong a drinks but..."

He trailed off. He sighed. "You were here yesterday. It was bustling with people. You gushed about your beautiful daughter, and then left. Listen uhhh... I need to call the police. Some... Whatever it is... WIth a knife snuck into the bar and charged at me. Sorry if I scared you earlier. So..."

He popped open a bottle of whiskey and handed it over. "Help yourself."

Posted: **Sat Dec 24, 2011 1:32 am**

Cecilia relaxes a bit once the shotgun is on the counter, but keeps her guard up. The photograph lies under one of her hands, forgotten at the moment. Katie's face is obscured by a finger.

The town's atmosphere is definitely getting to her, because she's actually considering the possibility that she may have been here. All she remembers of yesterday is driving, then stopping in Brahms for the night... but the memory is as hazy as the air outside.

For God's sake, she's thirty-one; that's too young to be losing her mind. And yet this man insists that she was here, and he's got his general facts straight...

A rush of blood kicks her heart into overdrive when he mentions the police. "Wait! There's a police department here?" Frustration gives way to anxiety - this town, he must know something about this town. "But there's no one around for miles! Why- why are you here?"

Posted: **Sat Dec 24, 2011 1:54 am**

Jack actually looked concerned. "Wow. You really don't remember, do you? Uhh... listen... have you recently been involved in an accident? Maybe fell from somewhere and hit your head?"

Posted: **Sat Dec 24, 2011 7:39 am**

The kitten meows weekly and pokes its head out of Jack's pocket.

Posted: **Sat Dec 24, 2011 12:58 pm**

"What? No." Cecilia sits back down on the bar stool, folding her hands on the counter. "I just- look, this town is deserted. The buildings are falling apart, there are no people around... haven't you seen it?"

When the kitten pops into the conversation, she stares at it for a few seconds before looking back at Jack. "Why is there a cat in your coat?"

Posted: **Sat Dec 24, 2011 2:10 pm**

"It's..." Jack said, sighing. He poured himself a drink. "It's a long story."

He took a sip. "I usually don't drink of there's someone else in the bar, but screw that."

Posted: **Sat Dec 24, 2011 2:30 pm**

Cecilia lets out a long sigh, shoulders dropping into a slouch. "I came here looking for a police station, or somewhere with a working telephone." She picks up the abandoned photo, not really looking at it. "But it seems like nobody's been here in years. Except you, I guess. I keep seeing boarded-up windows and rusted scaffolding everywhere."

"But if the phone here works, I- I need to call the police." She doesn't say anything more, just looks at Jack expectantly, trying to swallow around a sudden lump in her throat.

Posted: **Sat Dec 24, 2011 2:59 pm**

"Go ahead," Jack said. He took out a switch blade and...

Grabbed an apple and started peeling it. "The phone on the counter should work."

Posted: **Sat Dec 24, 2011 11:52 pm**

Most of the food he's brought out on the table are apples and instant noodles (Rochelle's lunch stash) as most of the other food requires a refrigerator and a fryer unless you have a taste for salad sandwhiches with cheese in them. Still, there are a couple reasonably priced champagne bottles saved for a special occasion and ingredients for schnitzel, burgers, and chips, as declare a few laminated menus that sit haphazardly around the relatively new vinyl couch-and-chairs by the window. The telephone handset sits on the counter not far from its home behind the counter. The kitten looks expectantly at Cecilia and meows.

Posted: **Sun Dec 25, 2011 1:42 am**

She reaches for the phone, keeping an eye on Jack as he leisurely peels the apple. He doesn't seem to like questions, which couldn't be more inconvenient. It's not that she doesn't want to trust him, but she's still unsettled from the day's events... and there's that trail of blood.

At least she's still holding herself together.

Cecilia picks up the phone, dials, and looks down at the kitten. (All right, it is cute, with its little bowtie collar.) Whether or not the call gets through, she'll want answers from Jack... though she's not sure what to say if she gets connected. It's something she's been avoiding thinking about.

Posted: **Sun Dec 25, 2011 1:47 am**

Cecilia realises that she doesn't have the local police station's number so she calls the Emergency Number: 911. All she gets is an erupt burst of static and then a click on the line as though someone answered then hung up. The static burst is loud enough for Jack to hear it as well.

Posted: **Sun Dec 25, 2011 2:19 am**

"The phone's still out, isn't it?" Jack said, sighing.

Posted: **Sun Dec 25, 2011 2:52 am**

Cecilia slams the receiver onto the machine. Her hands are shaking as she takes her cellphone from her purse. "Give me the number for the police station." Still out? Not even a landline works in this place?

Somewhere in her mind, she's aware that the shock is disappearing. Her thoughts are catching up with her, starting fires under her skin. She's supposed to be good at this - suppressing a guilty conscience, blotting out the horrible things people do to each other. It should be old news. It comes with the territory of law.

But it's not the same when it's her little girl.

The cellphone screen is black when she flips it open. Even if there was any service, the batteries are dead. "Piece of shit." Her voice cracks. She presses her hands to her face and chokes back a sob.

Not here. Please, not here. She's not supposed to let anyone see her fall apart.

Posted: **Sun Dec 25, 2011 4:15 am**

"I...errr...actually don't know the phone number for the police station. Other than 911," Jack said. "And I tried that a couple of minutes ago when...err...nevermind that. Look, here, kitten!" Jack pulled the kitten out of his pockets and placed it in front of her next to the shotgun.

"Jesus, I thought I was the only one having a rough day," Jack muttered. He bit into the apple once he finished peeling it. "So, uhh... what's your story?"

Posted: **Sun Dec 25, 2011 4:42 am**

The kitten meows plaintively and swipes cutely at the air. It seems completely and utterly abnormal for the situation thus far. It then proceeds to clean the soft fur of its tummy. Somewhere out there in the fog, a dog utters a snarling bark. Another whines, sounding somewhat child-like in its cry. The kitten's attention is caught, enraptured, an it stares out into the swirling fog, unmoving, eyes wide.

Posted: **Sun Dec 25, 2011 1:21 pm**

"I- I was on the phone with a client, my daughter went to the restroom, and... didn't come out." The words are tumbling out of her; she doesn't think she could stop talking if she tried, and she's speaking so fast that she isn't even thinking. She's telling her story to a man who's a complete stranger and she doesn't mind; he might as well not be here.

Her palms are wet. She brushes the back of her hand across her eyes, smudging her makeup. "I tried to find her, I thought she was hiding from me, she does that, you know?" Struggling to remain coherent, taking deep breaths. "I got the door open and- God..."

"Someone took my Katie." She shows him the photograph, jabbing a finger at the little girl in the middle. Her face is streaked with mascara and tears. "Someone took my Katie and left a fucking mannequin there."

Posted: **Mon Dec 26, 2011 3:14 am**

Interesting, Jack thought. That guy looks like me... And did she just say Katie?

"Crud," Jack muttered, digging through the counter for a hankerchief. He found one and handed it over to Cecilia. "Here, take this. Calm down a little... Something more happened then after, right? I need you to tell me what happened after so that I can help you."

Posted: **Mon Dec 26, 2011 6:07 am**

Cecilia takes the handkerchief with a small nod, laying the picture next to the kitten. Her face is a mess; she always gets the blotchy skin and red, puffy eyes. She wipes away the tears and tries to stop shaking.

"I'm sorry," she mumbles between sobs, though she isn't sure who the apology is meant for.

When she manages to quiet down, she's still dabbing at her eyes, deliberately not looking at Jack. He's going to help her? She tries not to think about how, and instead keeps on talking. "I tried calling 911 on my phone, but couldn't get service, so I drove into Silent Hill to look for somebody who could help me."

"You're the first person I've seen in this whole town. This is the first building I've seen that isn't boarded up or broken. I came here because... I got a call when I was in the restroom." She pauses, trying to remember the details. The kind of voice that could have belonged to any young woman, the strange familiarity... "She said her name was Ash, and she seemed to know me. She asked to meet me here... to talk about Katie."

Posted: **Mon Dec 26, 2011 7:24 pm**

"Sh1t," Jack muttered. "Really? Nobody else? This town is usually full of people! This doesn't make any sense..."

"Wait a minute, Ash? Of course she knows you. You were talking with her in the bar yesterday. She was talking about how deadbeat the husband that she ran away from was. Don't you remember? Well... I guess that we are stuck here in the bar then until Ash gets here... Here...take a candy bar. It'll make you feel better..."

"Oh...and...errr...I think this kitten is yours," Jack coughed, handing her the note. "This came with the kitten."

Posted: **Mon Dec 26, 2011 11:13 pm**

"I thought it was some kind of sick prank at first. Has the town always looked like this? With the fog and the buildings? I was told it was still a good vacation spot." Cecilia sighs, tired from crying. She frowns at the brown smudges on the handkerchief. Why am I thinking about how I look at a time like this? Focus, Cecilia...

When Jack tells her about 'yesterday,' she raises an eyebrow. Even though she can't remember it at all, that conversation certainly seems plausible. After everything that's happened, she could talk for hours about marriage and husbands and why men are so full of lies and how love is a waste that is never worth it; really it hurts more than it helps anything stop it Cecilia.

Yeah. It's definitely a plausible conversation. She takes a candy bar. It's not even the good kind of chocolate, but it's enough.

"'Don't Eat It?'" she asks upon reading the note, giving Jack a quizzical look. "And who's A. G.?"

The notion of eating a kitten is so bizarre to her that she doesn't even think about how Katie would- will - go nuts.

Posted: **Mon Dec 26, 2011 11:26 pm**

"Hell if I know," Jack said. "I found it alone in a closet inside the office, which was locked from the inside by a tooth."

Posted: **Tue Dec 27, 2011 1:30 am**

Cecilia's cellphone chirrups for her attention. She must have an incoming text message.

Posted: **Tue Dec 27, 2011 1:41 am**

"A... what?" Cecilia pauses just as she's about to take another bite of the candy bar. "A tooth? You mean some kind of tooth sculpture, right? Right?"

The cellphone is lying on the counter when it beeps. Wait. Weren't the batteries dead just a second ago? She picks it up, flips it open, and the screen lights up, announcing a new text message. The battery meter is almost full.

"That's weird," she mutters, and checks her messages.

Posted: **Tue Dec 27, 2011 1:52 am**

A simple message from someone called 'Ash' whose phone number is in your Contacts List. HEY AM AT COP SHOP AS PROMISED ANY NEWS ON KATIE? WHERE R U? ANNIE'S? CAN'T MEET. DOORS LOCKED. IN INTERROGATION ROOM AS WITNESS BUT COPS NOT COMING. FRONT DESK NOT ANSWERING. HOPE U GET THIS.

Posted: **Wed Dec 28, 2011 4:08 am**

Well. If anything was going to prove that something happened yesterday, this would be it. Cecilia honestly doesn't remember adding Ash as a contact, but how else could it have happened? That Bloody Mary must have gone right to her head.

Typing with only twelve keys is a pain (she'll get a new phone someday), so her message is short: COMING. She has to wonder why Ash promised to be at the police station... and as a witness? A witness to what?

She looks up at Jack as she's putting her phone back in her purse. "Can you tell me where the police station is? Ash says she's there, and I need to go meet her, and I don't know this town."

While she's talking, she gives the kitten a scratch behind the ears, oblivious to whatever it's looking at.

Posted: **Wed Dec 28, 2011 8:49 am**

"Lady, you got a mild case of short term memory loss, and you want to go out into the mist alone?" Jack said skeptically.

"A guy tried to kill me a few minutes ago, I saw a guy get murdered by a god knows what, my car got dented, there are no customers in the bar, and I found a freakin' kitten with a note written on it alone in a room locked from the inside. Hell if I am going to let anyone outside the damn place. If what you said and what the text said... Sorry, couldn't help but look, was true, then this town is really and truly ****Ed in more ways than I can care to understand. Nope, I have a better idea."

"Why don't I go get Ash and into the bar for you? I know Ash. She's visited this place often. I also know my way around this town."

Posted: **Wed Dec 28, 2011 3:39 pm**

"I..." Cecilia just stares at him, dumbfounded. Yes, there's a gaping hole in her memory, but that doesn't make her an invalid! She's perfectly capable of driving through the fog alone--

Wait. Someone tried to kill him?

She shuts up and listens to him talk. That would explain the shotgun, and the trail of blood... and he saw someone's murder? "And you're just going to leave me here, alone, in a place where a presumably violent person tried to kill you?"

Any other day, that would have been said in her lawyer voice. But she's too shaken to put on a brave face right now. "Call me crazy, but going out there seems safer."

Posted: **Wed Dec 28, 2011 4:51 pm**

"I can close the shutters and lock the doors. Nobody will know that you are in here and nobody will be able to get in," Jack said. "There is no need for you to go to an empty police station. Police stations aren't supposed to be empty. Besides, if you get killed out there, there would be nobody left to take care of Katie."

He waved his hands towards her fingers. "No wedding rings. Divorced, I presume? This place is safer than sneaking into a police station. There are plenty of foods and weapons if you are in a hurry. All other windows of this building is behind steel shutters, so you know that you are safe if you hide in the office or something. On the other hand, if you go outside, you can get jumped by someone. You'll never see him coming because o the fog. I am a local, so I can brave it better than you can."

Posted: **Wed Dec 28, 2011 6:19 pm**

Cecilia purses her lips and looks away from Jack, at the photograph. He has a point - Nathan knows that they've gone to Silent Hill, but not anything about Katie's abduction. She didn't even think about telling him. He wouldn't know anything was wrong until they didn't come back, and by then...

"...Fine," she sighs. She glances at the empty spot on her left ring finger. Was she still expecting to see something there? Is it that obvious?

She sends a quick message to Ash. NEVERMIND JACK IS COMING. U KNOW HIM? Then she's back at her list of contacts, going down to the name Nathan. He deserves to know about his daughter, but... she's not sure she can tell him. She doesn't know if she's ready for the guilt, the blame, and the panic to be thrown around all over again.

Her finger hovers over the CALL button, not pressing, not pulling back.

"Come back soon," Cecilia says. She means it - the idea of being alone here makes her blood run cold.

Posted: **Wed Dec 28, 2011 7:10 pm**

Jack grabbed the shotgun, loaded it, and also dumped a dozen more shells into his pockets.

"I'll be back," Jack said. He went out the front door, locking it behind him in the process.

Posted: **Thu Dec 29, 2011 4:38 am**

Jack has managed to grab 16 shells in all. Hopefully it'll be enough or else he might need to venture into the mall to grab some additional bullets from a hunting shop. As he steps outside into the cold, still air, he notices that the steel shutters are still rolled up over the wide glass windows and the neon sign is glowing orange in welcome to Annie's Bar.

Posted: **Thu Dec 29, 2011 4:53 am**

Cecilia closes her phone and shuts her eyes. She'll talk to Ash, to get everything straightened out, and then she'll call Nathan. This is definitely not a convenient way to avoid him. She wouldn't do that. Right.

Jack says he'll be back, but someone wanted him dead. There's probably more where that came from. People don't attack without reason.

Even with the heater going, she feels a chill in the air. Before the shutters go down, she looks out the window and gives him a halfhearted wave. She can't muster enough motivation to smile.

Posted: **Thu Dec 29, 2011 5:26 am**

Soo... Car... Or no car? Jack drew out a random card from his tarot deck.

O of swords. "Ehh... Sure, why not?" Jack muttered. He sauntered over to his car and, tryin his best not to touch or look at the corpse, rummaged through his pockets for keys and unlocked the door to the car.

Posted: **Thu Dec 29, 2011 10:05 am**

The keys are where they should be and its easy enough to unlock the car. Casting a quick glance into the brightly lit interior of Annie's Bar, he opens the door easily enough. It's not too far to the police station, after all.

Posted: **Fri Dec 30, 2011 12:56 am**

Jack'a mouth twisted back up into a smile as he put the key into the ignition and turned it on. "Who said charging into a police station with a shotgun was a bad idea?" he muttered.

Posted: **Fri Dec 30, 2011 6:09 am**

The car doesn't start. It doesn't so much as cough. It's as though the battery were well and truly dead.

Posted: **Fri Dec 30, 2011 7:21 am**

Jack sighed. Just his luck. He kicked open the door to the car.

"Might as well walk to that place there then, eh?" He looked down at his pockets, sighed in disappointment as he realized that he left the kitten in the bar, and then sauntered out. It was a short walk to the police station, so he might as well brave it.

Posted: **Fri Dec 30, 2011 7:36 am**

The cold air chills him quite completely. To make matters worse, he has to step cautiously around the corpse spattered by his car. The blood smeared prints continue to head across the road into the foggy distance. He could always follow them if he was spoiling for a fight. Otherwise, he can go left or right down the road to find his way to the police station that is north of the resort area. Going west will allow him to get onto Bachman Road which is a relatively long street that curves slightly onto Crichton Street. Follow it north and you'd find the police station is on the corner of Sagan Street and Crichton Street. Alternatively, go east along Craig Street and get onto South Park and followed one of the paths north. Across the road (in the direction of the blood spatters) should be a couple shops with laneways between them that you could use to get into the South Park if you jumped the fence. Across the road, you could also check out the Burger Joint with the cute waitress to see if they're open and if there's anyone inside.

As Jack stands there, drawing a map of Silent Hill in his mind as he figures out which way is best to go, he is struck by both the cold and the silence. It's odd listening to the silence during tourist season. This entire town really isn't making any sense right now.

Posted: **Sat Dec 31, 2011 2:48 am**

"Alrighty then," Jack muttered. "Eenie...meenie...minie...MO!" He pointed towards the direction of the bloodtrail.

He frowned.

"Haha, very funny, fates," he muttered as he turned towards Craig street. There was no way that he would go to South Park. The craziest things happened there, and there was no way that he would face it. Even with a shotgun.

Posted: **Sat Dec 31, 2011 3:00 am**

Jack heads down the street to turn right and ... comes face to face with those funny Fates. A gaping hole in the road is full of chunks of mansonry and gutted pipes that disappears into a yawning void. Even the nearest telephone pole is hanging over it at an angle with wires drooping down into the fog-shrouded emptiness. Well, it looks like he'll have to find another way to go. Of course, interestingly enough, there was no sensation of an earthquake earlier.

Posted: **Sat Dec 31, 2011 3:15 am**

"ALRIGHT. GOD, FINE!" Jack said to nobody in particular.

"Hi, bloodtrails," he said as he walked past his car once more.

"Bye, bloodtrails," he said as he walked towards Bachman Street.

Posted: **Sat Dec 31, 2011 3:27 am**

The long road heads down and should switch left onto another street beyond the park but he's barely two dozen yards down the road tears another chasm in the asphalt road that would force him off the road and into the park. Well, unless he wants to grab a boat and see if he can make his way up the river past the crater. That is an unlikely possibility but in this world it might work out. There's a sharp series of barking that comes from somewhere within the park.

Posted: **Sat Dec 31, 2011 4:14 am**

"Hey, bloodtrails, I am back!" Jack said as he sauntered back to his car. "Lesson learned. From now on, when I see a dead body and some bloodtrails, I will know that I was going in the correct direction."

He walked, this time much more carefully, in the general direction of the bloodtrail.

Spoiler:

Posted: **Sat Dec 31, 2011 4:26 am**

The bloody shuffle-prints appear to be larger than anticipated. Wider and larger than his own shoes and the prints suggest the figure was walking on the pads of their feet -- though there's no sign of any toes. The prints wind their way across the asphalt to the burger joint. The door is warped and shredded and half hangs off of the door frame. The 'AEC Burger' Joint's roller screen windows have been pulled down and locked, preventing Jack from seeing inside. The prints seem to go right inside but to the left, just around the building, is a short laneway that heads up to a fence that blocks off the park. From memory, there's a dumpster near that fence as well.

Posted: **Sat Dec 31, 2011 4:34 am**

"So if my fates are correct, that is the right way to go," Jack muttered, looking at the doorway to the burger joint. "Naaaah. Naaaaah...." Jack said. "Better not."

Jack walked towards the fences, stepping as silently as possible to avoid alerting...whatever the thing was that was inside the bar.

And the dogs.

Spoiler:

Posted: **Sat Dec 31, 2011 4:39 am**

Jack moves quietly enough through the alleyway though in the absolute silence the odd crack of shoes against asphalt and then concrete still sounds incredibly loud in the quiet. The dumpster is pushed up against the side of the burger joint's brick wall and stands about three feet away from the rear fence. Corrugated iron is hardly quiet but the support strut bars and poles are on this side, at least, so it shouldn't be too difficult to climb over. Climbing over quietly will be a bit more painful, however.

Posted: **Sat Dec 31, 2011 4:44 am**

Alright, Jack grimaced. He checked the shotgun's weight to ensure that it was fully loaded, and then slipped it into his rather deep pockets. "Let's do this."

He reached up towards the bar and then began to pull himself over the fence.

Posted: **Sat Dec 31, 2011 4:56 am**

The corrugated iron wobbles loudly against the weakly linked poles and bars as he struggles to hop up and over it. It's only on the second go that he manages to clamber up onto the fence and falls almost headlong over the top of it before catching himself and getting back down on his feet. The bottle of painkillers fall out of one of his pockets and clatters against the ground. There's an answering bark coming from somewhere within the foggy park.

Posted: **Sat Dec 31, 2011 5:02 am**

"Crud," Jack muttered as he scrambled to pick up the bottle of pills. Ditching stealth, he knew th at the dogs could smell him, he began to race across the South Park.

Posted: **Sat Dec 31, 2011 5:08 am**

A snarling growl sounds from his right as he takes off at a sprint. A flash of shredded brown dog flesh but then he was past it and it was a dim streak behind him and he knew if he turned around, it'd be on him. It was on his heels but somehow he managed to stay ahead of it. Moments passed and he could hear it gaining on him as he streaked through the foggy woods, dodging around trees and hedges. A bench appears before him but he somehow manages to vault over it and keep on running. The dog comes running up behind him and with a huff launches itself at him and he barely manages to twist out of the way of a set of bandaged jaws that slam shut like a bear trap. He keeps running through the grass and the trees and at some point realises that he's surrounded by silence ... and out of breath. He seems to have lost the dog, but there's no way he can keep moving without stopping for breath. He must be at least halfway through the park but it's hard to be sure with all of this fog. He might even have doubled back on himself in all the excitement.

Posted: **Sat Dec 31, 2011 5:17 am**

Alright, Jack thought. This is officially the worst idea I ever had.

He wearily pulled out a shotgun and scanned his surroundings. He just needed some time to get his bearings.... some time away from the dogs...

He began to sneak through the park in the general direction of the police station, searching for landmarks that he could use to navigate by...

Spoiler:

Posted: **Sat Dec 31, 2011 5:28 am**

The trees and cement paths all look the same but luckily there's only a couple of different ways the paths can lead. To the rest rooms, the central fountain, the little playground, and the various surrounding roads. Of course, the path he follows leads him directly to the little playground including a swing seat, slippery dip, and rotating cup (alongside a few outdoor gym equipment recently installed for local adults). The tree that overhangs the playground seems to shiver a little as he approaches, the leaves rustling against each other in the still air. Two flickering candles are set into the earth between the exposed roots of the tree, flanking a framed photograph, before which lays some sort of medallion. Its hard to tell from about ten yards away. The playground itself isn't too far from the eastern road.

Posted: **Sat Dec 31, 2011 5:38 am**

"Creepy," Jack muttered. So if his luck so far was to be believed, then the medallion and the creepy picture indicated that he was going the right way.

Jack stepped over to the medallion, looking around wearily, and then examined both the photograph and medallion.

Posted: **Sat Dec 31, 2011 5:44 am**

The gold medallion is from Midwich. It seems to be for first place in the Regional Spelling Bee. Jack once competed in that competition. He didn't win, though. The photograph is a blurred out picture of some blond girl's face. It's hard to tell how old she is. Only that she's a blond caucasion. It's impossible to even tell what her expression actually is. The tree branches twitch spasmodically overhead as he picks up the photograph. Something clunks down on his head, bruising his scalp, before smacking down on the grass beside him. A netball?

Posted: **Sat Dec 31, 2011 5:53 am**

Jack immediately raised his shotgun towards the tree. "Who's there?" He said, just loud enough to hear.

Posted: **Sat Dec 31, 2011 5:56 am**

A young girl sits on one of the thicker branches overhead. "Don't aim that at me, you weirdo! That's really mean."

Posted: **Sat Dec 31, 2011 6:01 am**

Jack lowered the shotgun, slightly confused. "What are you doing here in the park? It's dangerous out here," he said.

Posted: **Sat Dec 31, 2011 6:11 am**

"Dangerous? What do you mean? 'Cause crazy men with shotguns are running around?"

Posted: **Sat Dec 31, 2011 8:30 am**

"Yeah, now get down from that tree or I'll riddle you with pellets."

*beat*

"Nah, I'm just kidding. No, because of the dogs! Didn't you read the papers?"

Posted: **Sat Dec 31, 2011 8:57 am**

"Dogs? What dogs? I don't see any dogs." She swings her legs and leans back in the branch. "Oh wait! You're that guy ... that one from Annie's Bar. You called me, remember? Earlier? You were looking for Rochelle and you were all threatening and stuff."

Posted: **Sat Dec 31, 2011 3:53 pm**

"Ahh... Yes, Cynthia! I remember! How have you been?" Jack said. "Well, you have to know that I had a crazy morning. Some guy took away my car batteries."

He frowned. "Speaking of which, you never answered if Rochelle was nearby."

Posted: **Sat Dec 31, 2011 3:58 pm**

"Nope, haven't seen her," said the girl. "I don't see many people around anyway. This is town so dead!" She groans and mock swoons into a boredom faint, almost falling off her branch, and steadying herself at the last minute. "Oh wait, did ya hear? There's this totally cool author who's come into town. I just have to get his autograph! Have you seen him around?"

Posted: **Sat Dec 31, 2011 4:50 pm**

"Ummm.... No, but I guess that he would be around a bookstore or a hotel or something if he comes... Say, have you noticed that some roads seem to have mysteriously disappeared as if a giant monster took a bite out of them?"

Posted: **Sat Dec 31, 2011 4:53 pm**

"No, I haven't seen nothing like that," she said with a shrug. "Are you high? I hear that grown ups like to pop special tic tacs some time. Or eat white flowers or whatever it is that Claudia makes."

Posted: **Sat Dec 31, 2011 6:15 pm**

"They wha?" Jack said. "Nevermind. I don't want to know."

"Say. You look like a bright kid. Do you know the way to the police station?"

Posted: **Sun Jan 01, 2012 2:55 am**

"You look big enough and hairy enough to sort out your own problems." She scampers down the tree. "Say, have you seen a little girl around? Blond? About this tall?" She holds her hand out as though indicating someone around her own height.

Posted: **Sun Jan 01, 2012 3:25 am**

"I am looking at one right now," Jack said.

Posted: **Sun Jan 01, 2012 3:39 am**

"Not me, silly!" She shakes her head irritably. "You people are no help!" At that, she turns and runs off into the fog-shrouded park, heading further towards the middle.

Posted: **Sun Jan 01, 2012 4:23 am**

Jack sighed, twirling his shotgun. "Girls," he muttered. "She'll be alright, though."

Jack stared at the medallion, a tiny little shrine, for a couple more seconds before turning towards the road. "So that would Acadia road, right? So I just have to follow that north until Wein Street ends and then take a left and I should be at the police station in no time."

Posted: **Sun Jan 01, 2012 4:37 am**

There's no chasm to split the road from the rest of the location and he steps onto Acadia Road easily enough. Houses line the street on the other side, interspersed with shops. In the distance, he can hear dogs barking and snarling. He's not free yet. There's a car sitting in the middle of the road with the passenger side door still open. There's blood spatters on the seaat.

Posted: **Sun Jan 01, 2012 4:40 am**

He walked over to the car. If there is blood on the seat, then it must have meant that the owner of the car was jumped while being in it. That meant that the keys were most likely still in there...

If he could just get into the car and avoid whatever it is that killed the driver, than he could avoid the dogs and arrive at the police station more quickly!

"Hang on," Jack suddenly said. "That's probably not the normal reaction to seeing a bloodied car."

He looked around. No witnesses. Jack shrugged.

Posted: **Sun Jan 01, 2012 4:50 am**

The car is most assuredly empty of people or hungry dogs. There does seem to be a set of keys still sticking into the ignition. The driver also dropped her license onto the car seat when they had gotten jumped. But normally such things were normally kept in purses or wallets. Why would it have been in the victim's hand when they'd died? There's no sign of any creatures around the car though the barking from the direction of the park seems to be getting closer.

Posted: **Sun Jan 01, 2012 4:55 am**

Jack quickly slammed shut the door and scrambled for the keys to turn on the car.

Posted: **Sun Jan 01, 2012 4:59 am**

There's no sound in the engine. Is the battery dead here as well?

Posted: **Sun Jan 01, 2012 5:02 am**

"Well, this is funny, isn't it, EH?!" Jack said. He glanced down at the license to read the name of the victim, moved over to the backseat, and stared out the back window, shotgun in hand.

"Come on..." Jack said. "Come onn...."

Posted: **Sun Jan 01, 2012 5:21 am**

Melissa Fielke. Apparently she lived at 12 Acadia Street. That'd be just down the road on the corner of Acadia Street and Cielo Avenue. And the car keys would also have her house key on them. So he can always go inside there, worse came to worse.

Posted: **Sun Jan 01, 2012 5:22 am**

Spoiler:

Posted: **Sun Jan 01, 2012 5:25 am**

The fog seems to distort noises somewhat but they're not within sight and that's probably as good as he's going to get. At least if he can't see them, they can't see him. Right?

Posted: **Sun Jan 01, 2012 5:28 am**

Spoiler:

Jack growled then opened the door quickly, nearly tumbling out of the car. The dogs were bound to catch up any time soon, and he wasn't going to allow that to happen.

He ran again. It was harder with a shotgun in his hands, but at least the road would keep him in the right path.

Posted: **Sun Jan 01, 2012 5:34 am**

It was only a few dozen yards down Acadia Road when it would meet Cielo Avenue, when he saw the shattered road up ahead that blocked off that intersection. No. 12 Acadia Road (judging by the mailbox) leaned drunkenly partly over the edge but still remained mostly on front yard and safety. The dogs barked behind him, sounding like they'd just picked up his scent.

Posted: **Sun Jan 01, 2012 5:41 am**

"Okay, now you are just screwing with me," Jack said to nobody in particular.

He ran over to No. 12 Acadia road and then quickly fumbled through the keys to get into the house.

Posted: **Sun Jan 01, 2012 5:55 am**

Jack hears a snarl, too close behind him, and the patter of paws rushing up behind him. The key clatters against the edges of the hole but his anxiety keeps it from snapping straight inside. The creature is close, real close, leaving him with few choices. Face it, or hope like hell he can get the key in the hole, and himself on the other side of that door before the dog reaches him.

Posted: **Sun Jan 01, 2012 5:58 am**

Spoiler:

"Damnitdamnitdamnitdamnitdamnitdamnit!" Jack muttered as he heard the paws close in on him. He continued to fumble at the keys, hoping desperately for the doors to open.

Posted: **Sun Jan 01, 2012 6:05 am**

The key strikes the edge and he fumbles his grip on it. The key is lodged in the lock, he hasn't dropped it, but he managed to lose his grip on the key in the lock and it takes him another moment to grab it again and turn it unlocked. There's a snarl behind him and he barely manages to dodge out of the way as the creature slams past him onto the door just as he twitches the door knob. The dog hits the door, swinging it open, and lands inside, before whipping around, its bandaged maw pulling open with a sickening tearing sound as the stitching finally came loose and its bottom jaw flaps open.

Sanity check, Succeeded.

Posted: **Sun Jan 01, 2012 6:08 am**

Jack whipped up his shotgun at the creature and fired once as he quickly walked into the house, kicking the door shut behind him.

Posted: **Sun Jan 01, 2012 6:13 am**

The shotgun blast tears through the dull wallpaper above the creature's head. It snaps those bleeding jaws and lunges forward, grabbing hold of his arm and shredding muscle and skin between its powerful jaws. The pain hits a moment later. Sharp agony that tears all the way up his left arm. It swings its head savagely until he manages to wrench his arm free. His arm hurts, but not so badly that he can't still fire his shotgun again. At least the door's shut behind him.

Posted: **Sun Jan 01, 2012 6:17 am**

"ARGH!" Jack cried out. "YOU FREAKING... You just earned yourself a world of trouble!"

He aimed his shotgun and fired one more time.

Posted: **Sun Jan 01, 2012 6:30 am**

The shotgun blast catches the dog dead center and spatters the wall with blood and gore. The dog utters a broken howl through the tears in its throat and muzzles, gushing with bubbling blood. It flops to the ground and spasms, sending gouts of blood spraying across his pants, coat, and the walls around them.

Posted: **Sun Jan 01, 2012 6:33 am**

Jack dropped the shotgun and pulled out his switchblade. "Dying already? Well, I am not done with you yet!"

He reached out with both his hands and grappled at the creature, intent on ending its life.

Posted: **Sun Jan 01, 2012 6:38 am**

The dog jerks in his arms, its wide blue eyes staring up at him, rolling in the sockets, seeming almost human in its inhuman and brutalised body. Pus-soaked bandages scrape his fingers as he grabs it, pressing the switchblade to its throat and...

Posted: **Sun Jan 01, 2012 6:45 am**

"Having fun yet, puppy?" Jack muttered. "Well, all good things have to come to an end... goodbye."

He plunged the knife into the creature's throat, seeking to entirely rip apart its windpipes rather than merely slit it.

Posted: **Sun Jan 01, 2012 6:49 am**

The rubbery throat resists the blade but with a few quick wriggles of the blade he manages to make a real mess of things. It doesn't appear to have any windpipe, truly.

Posted: **Sun Jan 01, 2012 6:52 am**

"Ehh? What?" Jack said, slightly confused. "How do you... what is... GRRRR... JUST DIE!"

Jack kept on stabbing the creature in random places, twisting the knife a few times.

Posted: **Sun Jan 01, 2012 7:11 am**

The creature sputters more blood onto his clothing from its mangled muzzle and then falls limp.

Posted: **Sun Jan 01, 2012 7:15 am**

"Glad that that's over," Jack said, getting up. The arm still hurt like hell, but he was holding up fine now.

"Now, what do we have here..."

Posted: **Sun Jan 01, 2012 7:21 am**

It looks like a rather ordinary home. The door to the left is open and reveals a living room with a static-ridden television with a small football trophy on top of it that seems familiar. Didn't he have a football trophy just like it? He has some very vague memories of a little boy's room. The two doors to the right are jammed when he tries the knob. The rearmost door opens into a kitchen / dining room that seems to be decorated in blue streamers - though he can't make out much else from where he's standing.

Posted: **Sun Jan 01, 2012 7:33 am**

Jack moved into the kitchen, picking the shotgun back up. There had to be a backdoor out of this place somewhere... some place for him to get out on the streets and back on his way to the police station.

He had to make it there before the situation went even more out of hand.

Posted: **Sun Jan 01, 2012 8:09 am**

The kitchen seems all set for a birthday party, decked out in blue streamers with a blueberry cheesecake on the square dining table with HAPPY BIRTHDAY written on it in blueberries. There's milkshakes and blue paper, alien print plates at each setting. A basket full of poppers. There's also a small pile of prizes on the kitchen counter. A back door leads outside.

Posted: **Sun Jan 01, 2012 11:19 pm**

Jack shook his head slightly sadly at the entire scene and headed towards the back door. If he was lucky, than the door would hopefully drop him off somewhere beyond the cracked streets, allowing him to continue on towards the police station.

"Well, no point dilly-dallying, I suppose," Jack muttered.

Posted: **Mon Jan 02, 2012 3:13 am**

The backyard is a blur of grass with a swing set in the middle, beyond which the world fades into fog once more. There's bound to be a fence beyond the foggy border and if he jumps the fence line to his right (or climbs it) he should end up on Cielo Street. At least the dogs from the park shouldn't be able to follow him through the house to get past the crater so he might even be home free on his way to the police station. Maybe.

Posted: **Mon Jan 02, 2012 4:27 am**

Jack loaded the shotgun once more and then downed a couple of pills from the bottle of pain-killers. If he climbed over that fence, he would be at Cielo Street. If he followed it west until the end, turned right, and kept on going, he should be able to reach the police station.

But then again, nothing ever went according to plan so far. Perhaps he shouldn't push his luck.

Posted: **Mon Jan 02, 2012 11:38 am**

The painkillers don't do a hell of a lot but they do take the edge off. The foggy yard seems to beckon to him with tendrils of fog. Perhaps he should also make sure the chasm doesn't extend down the road when he climbs the fence. The last thing he wants to do is drop down into nothingness. At least he can't hear the dogs just now.

Posted: **Mon Jan 02, 2012 4:36 pm**

Jack moved over to the fence and looked beyond.

"Just how wide is this crater anyways?"

Posted: **Mon Jan 02, 2012 11:01 pm**

Taking a look over the fence reveals a wide, grassy footpath, the occasional tree, and the asphalt of the road. It looks fairly intact here. In fact, because of how thick the fog is, he can't really make out where the crater begins because he can't so much as see the corner. At least the coast looks clear. So long as he can make it over the fence he should be home free. Taking another look around, Jack notices a side gate set into the fence. Well, this just got a whole hell of a lot easier considering his injuries.

Posted: **Mon Jan 02, 2012 11:39 pm**

Jack let out a cough. "I better... get something from the hospital before I get to the police station," he muttered. Hang on. How did the painkillers affect him so quickly? Nah, better not dwell on it.

He lurched over to the side gate and opened it, leaving behind a bloody handprint. He looked at it apprehensively for a couple of seconds before walking west.

Posted: **Tue Jan 03, 2012 1:03 am**

Cielo Avenue. Leaves hang limply on the trees that line the streets. Cars sit parked by the side of the road, abandoned. White letter box after white letter box. All faded and dull rather than the rich white of a recent paint job as they should have appeared. He turns down Ash Road and then left onto Midway Avenue, past the Lumber Yard, and right onto Canyon Street. There should have been a driveway to lead up to the courtyard that flanks Alchemilla Hospital, where all of the patients come to linger and smoke and pretend it's not going to kill them faster. Instead, there's metal sheeting bolted onto scaffolding that disappears up into the foggy sky. Well, at least there's a Pharmacy on the left just before Koontz Street. Everything is quiet. So very quiet. And so very still. Only the slowly roiling fog seems to provide any motion at all. Something flaps past from its roost, leaving a telephone wire jangling behind it. At least there are still birds here. That's got to be a good sign. Right? Jack could always attempt to find a gap in the sheeting, or prize it loose, or simply head to the Pharmacy if he wants medication. Otherwise, Simmons Street, which is a quick right on Midway Avenue, will take him to Sagan Street the fastest, and just left down that street is the police station.

Posted: **Tue Jan 03, 2012 2:58 am**

"This is quiet," Jack said. "Almost too quiet..."

He whirled around and then aimed the shotgun downed the street. Nothing. Disappointed, Jack lowered the shotgun. "Oooh! Pharmacy! I wonder if they would have more of these pills."

Spoiler:

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CHAPTER ONE: Jack's Journey: Opening Hours

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