Normal riddle difficulty: Fair is foul, and foul is fair. / Put these books out of order.
Hard riddle difficulty:
In here is a tragedy— / art thou player or audience? / Be as it may, the end doth remain: / all go on only toward death.
The first words at thy left hand: / a false lunacy, a madly dancing man. / Hearing unhearable words, drawn / to a beloved’s grave—and there, / mayhap, true madness at last.
As did this one, playing at death, / find true death at last. / Killing a nameless lover, she / pierced a heart rent by sorrow.
Doth lie invite truth? / Doth verity but wear the / mask of falsehood? / Ah, thou pitiful, thou / miserable ones!
Still amidst lies, though the end / cometh not, wherefore yearn / for death? / Wilt thou attend to thy beloved? / Truth and lies, life and death: / a game of turning white to black / and black to white.
Is not a silence brimming with / love more precious than flattery? / A peaceful slumber preferred to / a throne besmirched with blood.
One vengeful man / spilled blood for two; / Two youths shed tears for three; / Three witches disappeared thusly; / And only the four keys remain.
Ah, but verily… / In here is a tragedy— / art thou player or audience? / There is nothing which cannot / become a puppet of fate or an / onlooker, peering into the stage.
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Ticket machine newspaper
Fatal Accident At Hazel Street
At about 11 PM on the 4th, a man waiting on the platform at the Hazel Street station fell onto the tracks and was decapitated by the arriving St. Renata College-bound train. The victim died instantly.
While police have not yet determined whether the death was an accident or suicide, witnesses report that the victim did not look inebriated and seemed to jump off the platform deliberately.
The victim’s identity is still unknown. He was approximately 40 years old, 5 feet 10 inches tall, and was wearing a black jacket.
The souls of those who died suddenly by suicide or accident don’t realize they’re dead. Sometimes they stay put and haunt that particular place.
These spirits have lost their human senses and memories and can only keep replaying the pain and sadness of the moment they died.
The pain can get so bad that they turn to huans for salvation–or they begrudge humans their lives. At such times they can possess humans.
Places known as “famous suicide spots” or “high-accident areas” are often to blame.
You should be careful when approaching such locations, especially on the day or at the time the death occurred. That is, if you don’t want it to happen to you, too…
About the monster in the water
There’s a monster in the water. The bastard’s killed 2 of my buddies.
I should never have doubted that old urban legend about alligators in the sewers. That was no myth.
But no one believes me. They were drunk and slipped? We’re not that damn stupid.
Even calling it a monster isn’t quite right. This is something else. All I know is… something’s in there.
I’m going in now to beat that thing’s head in. If you find this note, consider it my will.
Revenge is futile—or so you may think, reading this. But Jose and Jaime were my best buddies.
Wish I knew how to do the deed. Guns won’t work underwater. Even my famous knifework won’t do much. If only I had a hand
Photo on chair
Find the Holy One.
Picture in the gallery
Flame Purifies All
By these remains may a person find the road to Paradise.
“Thus one’s life turns to riches”
Thus one’s life turns to riches:
what was a bag of coins is now the number in a book.
Yet faith hath no price…
Ah, but do people know this?
Fairy tale, Beginning
Once upon a time, there was a monster living at the gates of a village. It was a very scary and a very bad monster. It would catch people and crunch them up with its big teeth.
The villagers were afraid of the monster, and no one would dare approach the gates. Everyone was stuck inside the village.
When the king heard about this, he summoned his knights. The knights eagerly rode out to defeat the monster.
“Ha! Take that!”
Their swords slashed and their spears flashed, but the monster wouldn’t die.
The monster tossed the knights into its mouth one by one, horses and all.
What was the king to do? He fretted and fussed and paced the floor, but could think of no solution.
Soon after, the village priestess came to the castle. She was a very kind and good person. The king asked her to defeat the monster guarding the gates.
Fairy tale, continued
The priestess accepted the king’s request and went to the village gates. But when she saw the monster, she tried to convince it with words instead of killing it.
“Shut up, you! I’m going to eat you up!” The monster didn’t listen to a word the priestess said.
But she kept trying to convince the monster to give up. “It’s wrong to eat people, you know.”
The monster grew very angry at this and attacked her, killing her with a single mighty blow.
Fairy tale, Last Part
The king and his people shed tears at the death of the kind priestess. God took pity upon them and granting their wishes, healed the priestess.
The priestess opened her eyes just as she had done every morning of her life. She went once more to the monster’s lair.
“Fool! You wish to die again?” “No… this time it’s your turn.” The priestess had come to defeat the monster once and for all.
As the priestess was very very kind, she felt sad about this task. But it had to be done.
“Swords and spears won’t work. Arrows and bullets will just bounce off. You can’t kill me,” the monster laughed.
But the priestess used neither sword nor spear. She chanted but a single spell.
“TU FUI, EGO ERIS.”
Do you know what happened then? The monster let out a huge cry and then died and vanished!
Thus the villagers were able to use their gates once more. Everyone lavished their gratitude upon the priestess, and they all lived happily ever after.
Silent Hill Tourist Information
Welcome to Silent Hill!
Silent Hill, a quiet little lakeside resort town. We’re happy to have you. Take some time out of your busy schedules and enjoy a nice restful vacation here.
Row after row of quaint old houses, a gorgeous mountain landscape, and a lake which shows different sides of its beauty with the passing of the day, from sunrise to late afternoons to sunset.
Silent Hill will move you and fill you with a feeling of deep peace. I hope your time here will be pleasant and your memories will last forever.
Editor: Roger Widmark
About Leonard and Stanley
Room S12. Presenting mild audiovisual hallucinations, emotional instability, obsessive ideas. Suspect mild schizophrenia.
Will continue observation.
Basically calm and cooperative with a strong sense of justice. However, according to reports, becomes very violent when
Room S07. Usually passive and cowardly; also egotistical.
Sometimes shows and acts on obsessive attachment to a particular woman. This has caused violent incidents; use caution.
2F east hall memo (Easy riddle difficulty)
Press, move 2 right; / press, move up 1;/ press, move 2 down; / press, the door shall open.
2F east hall memo (Normal riddle difficulty)
The first is larger than the second; / the second is twice the third; / the third smaller than the fourth; / the fourth is half the first.
Four of the numbers / are not repeated / Three are not in the top row / Two are not in the right row / One of the numbers is the final key
2F east hall memo (Hard riddle difficulty)
Pure eyes, blue like a glassy bead— / You are always looking at me / and I am always looking at you.
Ah, you’re too meek— / beautiful, unspoiled:/ thus I’m so sad, I suffer— / and so happy, it hurts.
I want to hurt you / and destroy myself / What you would think / if you knew how I felt.
Would you simply smile, / not saying a word? / Even curses from your mouth / would be as beautiful as pearls.
I place my left hand on your / face as though we were to kiss. / Then I suddenly shove my thumb / deep into your eyesocket.
Abruptly, decisively, / like drilling a hole.
And what would it feel like? / Like jelly? / Trembling with ecstasy, / I obscenely mix it around and around: I must / taste the warmth of your blood.
How would you scream? / Would you shriek “It hurts! / It hurts!” as cinnabar-red tears / stream from your crushed eye?
You can’t know the maddening / hunger I’ve felt in the midst of / our kisses, so many of them / I’ve lost count.
As though drinking in your cries, / I bring my hopes to fruition: / biting your tongue, shredding it, / biting at your lips as if tasting / your lipstick.
Oh, what euphoric heights I would / reach, having my desires fulfilled / like a greedy, gluttonous cur.
I longed, too, for your cherry-tinted / cheeks, tasty enough to bewitch my / tongue. / I would surely be healed, / and would cry like a child.
And how is your tender ear? / It brushes against my cheek; / I want it to creep up to my lips so / I can sink my teeth into its flesh.
Your left ear, always hearing words / whispered sweet as pie— / I want it to hear my true feelings. / I never lied, no… / but I did have my secrets.
Ah, but what must you think of me? / Do you hate me? Are you afraid? / As though inviting you to the agony / at the play’s end, if you wish, you / could destroy me—I wouldn’t care.
As you wish, you may destroy me / —I wouldn’t care.
The start time is my key.
Memo about the corpse
Background: unknown. / Name/age: unknown.
Not admitted patient. Found in poor mental state on hospital grounds and temporarily installed in room M4 at chief’s discretion.
Died late tonight from blood loss due to severed cartoid artery. Was grasping own kitchen knife in right hand; assume this was
cause of neck wound.
Possible suicide, but wound angle suspicious. Sent to 2nd floor treatment room for further investigation. Have received no proof or corroboration of event from patient residing in the same room.
Have not notified police. However, for future necessity, leave victim’s bed and effects intact (room M4).
Photo – Backside of shelf
(Random series of four numbers)
“Hope House” article
Teaching Despair: “Hope House”
“Hope House”, and orphanage on the outskirts of Silent Hill. But behind its false image is a place where children are kidnapped
Hope House is managed by the “Silent Hill Smile Support Society,” a charity organization sometimes called “4S.” It’s true that 4S is a well-respected charity that “takes in poor children without homes and raises them with hope.”
But at its heart, it is a heathen organization that teaches its own warped dogma in lieu of good religious values.
Mr. Smith (temp), who lives near “Hope House,” had this to say: “Sometimes at night I can hear their weird prayers and the sounds of [children] crying. I went there to complain one time, but they ran me right out. Since then, it hasn’t changed a bit.”
In fact, this reporter was refused admission when he attempted to take photographs in the facility. What exactly do the folks at
“Hope House” have to hide?
During my investigations, I was able to discover, however, a suspicious-looking round concrete tower which appears to be part of their facilities.
Unfortunately no one was willing to tell us what the tower was used for. But it seems unlikely that it has anything to do with the business of raising orphans. It may in fact be a prison, or a secret place of worship.
The cult religion that operates “Hope House” is known by the locals simply as “The Order”.
It’s a religion that is deeply interwoven with Silent Hill’s history. But its worshippers’ fervent belief that they are among the elite “chosen people” has a dark and dangerous side.
I intend to continue my investigation of “Hope House” and the cult behind it. I’ve always believed that “telling the whole truth” and showing the children the true path, is our most important duty.
Stanley’s diary (Visiting room)
This day has finally come. That’s right–the day when you and I will meet.
I was always thinking of you, here in this gloomy cell. I never even knew your name or face until today.
But now I know. I know you’re the one I’ve been waiting for.
And haven’t you been waiting for me, too? That’s why you came to rescue me.
Oh, how I love you, Heather.
I want to give you my prized doll I made to commemorate our meeting, the start of this everlasting love.
Ah, I can already see your smiling face.
Stanley’s diary (Room C4)
The Organization has me shut up in here. They mean to break my will, to make me forget about all that.
But I’ll stay sane even if they throw me in here with lunatics.
How about if I stick this to the wall? That would be worthless. You can peel it off, can’t you, with that junk those nasty wenches won’t stop using?
If a thing has no meaning, there’s no reason for it to exist at all. Just as you exist for me.
But why haven’t you taken my doll with you? Ah, my gift must’ve embarrassed you. How cute you are, Heather!
Stanley’s diary (East hall)
You may not yet have realized your own true feelings. But you sense them unconciously.
And so you’re trying to get closer to me. That’s a virtue, the path to Paradise.
If the door’s locked, open it. Use the password for the prison gates. Doctor… I’ve forgotten his name. Anyway, that quack has it posted.
He should be here, too. I mean, 4 numbers would’ve been good enough, but he kept on going.
Isn’t it a shame? I’m not there. Aren’t you irritated? I long for you, but you’re so cruel. Still, I want you, Heather.
Stanley’s diary (S.T. room)
Flowing feely, your ebony hair / Like the night sky, / scattering fragrance
My heart, clamoring in my chest / Like a storm, you trifle with it
Your pristine glance / Like a feast, when you smile
My thoughts disturbed, my breath /Like opium, it drives me mad
… Eric, a great poet who conveys my feelings so well. I shouldn’t have let this place get to me, should never have gone crazy.
But it’s superbly enjoyable to drown in my love for you.
But why won’t you accept proof of my love? Don’t stand on ceremony, now.
After all, you and I exist as one. What I give to you is the same as what I give to me.
Stanley’s diary (Storeroom)
Heather, my most sacred lover. I’m always watching you. No matter where you are or what you may be doing, I have never lost sight of you.
I know you feel intensely lonely. Yet with a single key to this door, those feelings won’t stand in the way any longer.
We haven’t been able to see each other for so long. Be patient—it’s just a little longer. I’ll be patient, too, even though
I long to hold you in these hands of mine.
The key is behind the shelves in the underground garage. Why there? Ask that idiot doctor.
There’s not a single person here who’s right in the head. Not just in this hospital— I mean in all of Silent Hill.
Stanley’s diary (Staircase)
I also like the rooftop.
It makes me want to fly.
Stanley’s diary (Room M4)
There was a tattooed guy on that rumpled bed. Not any more, though. That alarm clock and filthy bag are his.
Ah, but don’t misunderstand. I haven’t done a thing. I didn’t hate him, though he was a liar.
Shall I write something of my own? On my chest, since I can’t cut it open to show you my heart. “I love Heather”.
No, something a bit more forceful. “I love Heather” isn’t enough for what I feel. Oh, what tender emotion this image brings…
Stanley’s diary (Room S7)
I’m sorry I wasn’t able to respond to your love.
It’s all over. Leonard despises me—because I made fun of it, saying it would come to this.
If it weren’t for his meddling, I would have been able to meet you in just a little while. Then I could have taken you
to my world.
A world for us alone, more beautiful than this one.
And I had been waiting for this day, for today. The day I’d see you, the day you’d save me. Today.
Heather, watch out for him. Leonard is no ordinary guy.
Farewell. I loved you.
Heather, my goddess. Heather, my lover. Heather, my
The Song of the Sparrow
Who killed Cock Robin?
“The Sparrow,” they said
“He wants them all dead
To him, honey-sweet is
The Song of the Owl
The Owl who forgot the sky
Resigned to his poor earthbound state
Hungry or full didn’t matter at all
He ate and he ate and he ate
The Song of the Thrush
The grass the Thrush so loved to eat
Gave him sweet happiness
He sank even deeper and finally fell
To destruction and fatal distress
The Song of the Cock Robin
Cock Robin, who hid the key away
Is ash in the oven, all right
The place he held is empty now
And the doors remain shut tight
The Song of the Lark
The Lark’s child lost all his words
And walled himself up all away
Heart and mouth both locked up tight
In a cage where none want to stay
The Song of the Dove
The Dove’s hope died; he chose his path
His flapping wings fell still
Drenched in scarlet here they lay
His cheeks pale white and chill
The Song of the Linnet
He seeks out her soul by his own
Frightening her out of her wits
Whispering love songs into her ear
What cruel Linnet wants, he gets
The Song of the Rook
The black Rook is the praying sort
Who hears the gods in the skies
His whispered petitions go on
And glassy and dim are his eyes
The Song of the Wren
The Wren, with pure heart as
Makes us laugh with his feeble
But still we all know he shall
never grow old
And he knows not how much
he is lacking
The Song of the Kite
The Kite, hot, panting, and crazy mad
Sweet shackles that tease and excite
Death itself would drive him wild
Red blood that turns milky white
Burn the one who knows no death / Pure, adored by those above / No prayers within, just simple love
And now the pining hunter / The flames longing for his rebirth / A distant breath within the earth
Burn up that heavy body of his / Make it wind, dancing in the sky / That bottomless gut now a cloud, / now a sigh
The sweet blood on his laughing lips / Now calls him to the gates of Hell / There burns evermore that soulless shell
Four bodies return to ashes / Thus the door is opened / Thus the door is opened
Note to the doctor
Please use extra caution with the patient in room 312.
He should still have his religious freedom here in the hospital, but he shouldn’t push his faith on others. I’m a victim, too.
Rumor has it he got here by stabbing someone over a religious dispute. Please be careful.
P.S. It looks like the rumor is true, according to the head nurse. I do think he’s a good person otherwise, though— easy to deal with.
Day room notebook
The world is teeming with unnecessary people.
It’s God’s decision that I fight. As a knight of honor, as a protector of the seal, I sacrifice myself to the blood of criminals.
Book: Lost Memories
One characteristic, mentioned only in rare documents and dying out in the modern age, is that of the ritual sacrifice.
“Offering prayers, pierce a man’s chest with a copper stake. Drench the altar in the blood which spouts red from the heart, to praise and to show loyalty unto God.”
In another sacrificial rite mentioned in the same book, the victim is burned alive.
This was a more dignified ceremony in which prisoners and sinners were not allowed to participate. Only the clergy could be sacrificed.
Similar to burning at the stake, no comparable rite can be found in religions practiced nearby. It may have some connection with the main deity being a sun god.
Even though this religion extols redemption, it brings to mind a dark and cultish history.
(Photos of shadows from two statues: Snow White and Cinderella)
Dahlia’s the one who said it— said that girl was a demon. That she took my daughter for a sacrifice.
But it’s not totally believable. I mean, appearances can be deceiving. When I saw that photo in the hospital basement, I thought, “That girl looks like Cheryl.” Is that why I feel this way?
Something’s not normal, anyway. Nothing good will come of this. But I just can’t think of her as a demon.
Is it my imagination, or do I actually feel sorry for her? Why do I feel like she’s looking for someone to help?
Cheryl’s what’s important to me. Everything else can wait until I’ve gotten her back.
When 13 turns count 4, you will die from their curse.
If you wish to escape, there is but one way out.
To kill before you are killed: you will be saved by the 12th death.
It would be better for “myself” to die. After all, it’s nothing to be afraid of…
That child… that demon… When I think of the endless pain it will bring when it is birthed…. I decided that, instead of the
suffering and cruelty I endured in that sick room,…
That I would like to bestow a more gentle and more peaceful death on “myself”. Why do “I” resist? I never thought of “myself” as such a fool…..
Prayer to God
Stained by the evils of this world, we hold our sorrows within us.
Only you can heal us these wounds. Each morning, afternoon, evening
and night, we call out your name and pray for the day of the Miraculous Descent.
I give to you unreservedly my body and my eternal soul.
Whatever darkness may befall me, I will endure with you beside me.
As proof of your miraculous power, guide our obedient and willing souls to the Road to Paradise, oh Lord.
We will not give in to the power of temptation as long as we have you in our hearts.
Oh Lord, save us with your compassion.
Oh Lord, shower us with your blessings.
Oh Lord, favor us with your abundance.
This door is the gate which leads to the Road to Paradise.
Embrace the bosom of the Holy Mother. Admit your sins and be forgiven. Eternal tranquility can be yours.
Myth – “1. Origin”
In the beginning, people had nothing. Their bodies ached, and their hearts held nothing but hatred. They fought endlessly,
but death never came. They despaired, stuck in the eternal quagmire.
Myth – “2. Birth”
A man offered a serpent to the sun and prayed for salvation. A woman offered a reed to the sun and asked for joy. Feeling pity for the sadness that had overrun the earth, God was born from those two people.
Myth – “3. Salvation”
God made time and divided it into day and night. God outlined the road to salvation and gave people joy. And God took endless time away from the people.
Myth – “4. Creation”
God created beings to lead people in obedience to Her. The red god, Xuchilbara; the yellow god, Lobsel Vith; many gods and angels. Finally, God set out to create Paradise, where people would be happy just by being there.
Myth – “5. Promise”
But there God’s strength ran out, and She collapsed. All the world’s people grieved this unfortunate event, yet God breathed Her last. She returned to the dust, promising to come again.
Myth – “6. Faith”
So God hasn’t been lost. We must offer our prayers and not forget our faith. We wait in hope for the day when the path to Paradise will be opened.
St. Alessa portrait
Mother of God, Daughter of God
St. Nicholas portrait
Miraculous Hands, a Doctor of God
St. Jennifer portrait
Unwavering Faith Under
About syncretic religions
There is no religion that has remained unchanged from the moment it was founded. This one is no exception.
When this religion fell into the hands of immigrants, it was deeply influenced by their own original Christian beliefs.
For example, the traditional representatives of these primal gods may be given the names and descriptions of Christian angels.
Thus shared characteristics begin to appear.
(There is also one rare example of the chief deity, “Creator of Paradise” or “Lord of Serpents and Reeds”, being dubbed with
a demon’s name. Of course, this was not done by believers, but by their opponents.)
Tarot was based on the 22 Hebrew consonants and is said to represent the entire world.
Each card, numbered 0 through 21, has a particular meaning. By reading these cards, fortunetellers predict the future.
For example, the first card, “The Magician,” signifies creation, wisdom, beginnings, or destruction and fraud. The second card, “The High Priestess,” denotes intuition, harmony, faith, or dogmatism and arrogance.
According to some texts, the Gardner deck had more than 22 cards. (The Gardner deck does not exist today; it is mentioned only in the literature.)
It is said that these extra cards were based on lost Hebrew vowels and denoted an otherworldly, transcendental existence: i.e., God.
I sometimes have the sense even now that, that girl is a reincarnation of Alessa. I don’t worry about it much now. That’s all been forgiven.
You were unloved, Cheryl… Or was it Alessa? Now Cheryl is Alessa again.
No matter whose reincarnation she may have been, that girl was my most beloved treasure.
But that name was a mistake. At the time I thought of her only as a replacement for my lost Cheryl.
When she knows the truth, will she feel bad? That’s what worries me.
About the cult’s symbol
Represents the deity known as “The Halo of the Sun.” In heraldry, symbolizes a religious group.
The two outer circles are charity and resurrection; the three inner circles are present, past, and future.
Usually drawn in red. Occasionally drawn in black or other colors, but blue reverses the meaning into a curse on God and is therefore forbidden.
People are starting to voice their dissatisfaction about Father Vincent using the Organization’s money for his own personal benefit.
I’ve also heard rumors that Father Vincent has been extorting donations from some followers.
Is he really the right person for such a position? I’m in no place to deny all he’s done to make the Organization grow.
Even though we believe in God, if there were some sort of gathering, shouldn’t we be valued not for our limited talents or our talkativeness, but for the depth of our faith?
School desk scribbles
(Shows scribbles on Alessa’s school desk) “Go Home” “Drop Dead” “Thief”
K. Gordon’s notebook
There’s a girl named Alessa in my class. If your memory is any good, you may remember her. She’s the one I said they called
Most likely her mother is abusing her. I’ve never seen her come in without some sort of scrape or bruise. Her expression is pitifully dark for a 6-year-old.
Something like this may not be so uncommon. Rather than coming up with pointless ideas, it’s best just to watch and wait.
But isn’t there something I can do to help? I’m considering consulting a lawyer, but I do have my reservations. That’s why I thought I’d ask you, my friend, for your opinion first.
November 10: She didn’t die then; she was born. I knew that for a fact.But then why haven’t I found her yet? They were supposed to need her power to build Paradise, for the happiness of the people. She was supposed to be reborn for that.
I’d really like to see her.
November 14: Read “The Book of Praise.” I want to thank Father for lending me such an invaluable book. I found what I’d been searching for in there–how to awaken God. But it’s much too cruel. Will I be able to pull it off when I see her?
November 16: I was free all day, so I read “A Modern History of Refugees” and “Young Slaves: Child Exploitation.” I don’t want to be a mere bystander in this world. I can’t do anything now, though, and that’s what’s hard.
To little Claudia,
Happy 6th birthday!
I love you as if you were my real
sister. Here’s to you!
Red liquid or crystals resembling blood. According to the Kabbalah, the name is taken from an herb with the power to dispel evil spirits. It is said to grow in Arabian deserts.
It may be vaporized or applied as a poultice to guard against demons. It is powerful, but as it is rare, it is extremely difficult to obtain.
Dad’s memo 2
She’s just beyond this door. I don’t know how, but I can sense it.
But she’s not the only one there. I sense the presence of something extremely dangerous, even sickening … or maybe what they call “God”.
Nevertheless, I will open the door. Enough of this idle chit-chat. “God” I’m not, but I fully intend to save her… no, them.
Sketchbook (Easy riddle difficulty)
(Shows the location of each Tarot card’s placement on the door)
Sketchbook (Normal riddle difficulty)
The door sure does rattle, / but it’s stuck tight. / A secret is hidden out / of your sight! / You may be thinking, / “What could it be?” / You’ll need five magic cards / if you want to see.
What do I do, then, / with all these? / I’ll tell you straight and I won’t tease– / Just as long as / you say “please”.
Now the first thing you must know / Is that here’s something / in each row. / But that is not the half of it: / Three would be too hard to fit.
The upside-down man / under the ground: / To his right, to his left, / there’s no one around. / Leave him alone, though / his tears are profound.
The moon is up above the sky, / Full or crescent, floating high. / Twinkling light sits like a crown / On the head of a crazy clown.
Your Excellency, / praying to God most high / Do you think you / can tell my why / You always look up / at the night sky?
Do you have it now? / You didn’t forget? / One major point you / must not omit. / And now at the last, / before you take a whack / Here’s one more hint to /help keep you on track.
Scary and hateful, that / thing in the night / Better be careful– / it’s not on your right! / Turn to the left and / you’ll keep it in sight.
So you’ll open the door? / I’m just sure that there’ll / Be nothing beyond it but / frightening peril. / Forget about that! / Just stay and play! / Or else I’ll be left / here alone all day.
Sketchbook (Hard riddle difficulty)
I had a dream. In my dream, I opened a door. But was that really me? I had a different name.
ING WXX NXA
OEI IFI VII
MOX NOT XVH
XON HNG III
XAA CXX CCX
JII IEI IHT
5 are true and 4 are lies— / and there are some fibs mixed / in with the truth.
That’s ‘cause it’s scary to write / only the truth. / But dreams… dreams are like lies, / after all.
I hope this will never come to any use; maybe it’s better if you never know. More than anything else, I fear the possibility of your going away, far from me.
But sometimes we have to tell the truth. That’s why I’m writing this, before I’m lost in death and oblivion.
What happened back then? That has something to do with who you are.
It all started 24 years ago. Coming back from a vacation, my wife and I found a baby on the side of the highway. Since we were childless, we thanked God for letting us meet this child… this girl. We took her home.
3 years later, my wife died, and another 4 years later–17 years ago–I came to Silent Hill. I heard the girl’s pleas and took
her with me, not knowing why she wanted us to go there.
And it was there that the girl went away. Not that she actually went anywhere, nor did she die. “Returned to her original self”…
that’s what Dahlia Gillespie said.
“Original self”… That was the young woman burned by her mother as a sacrifice to God… Alessa Gillespie.
Half her soul escaped in those flames and went on to live in a baby… in that girl of mine. Of ours.
7 years passed before that half-a-girl returned to Silent Hill and made Alessa whole again. Newly strengthened, she vowed to kill God.
God, a fetus nestled into this sacrificial girl’s womb, was summoned with the usual rites. This was Alessa’s wish, no matter
what the outcome—even if her own existence were at stake.
But that wish was not granted. My interruption meant she prayed instead for the girl’s return. I alone couldn’t bring her back.
Dahlia did it—I only helped at the birthing ceremony, to bring God out of Alessa.
The newly-born God wailed once and was dead. All from that girl’s—and possibly Alessa’s—conscious resistance.
That’s not the end. After God had vanished in a glow of light, Alessa reappeared and gave me a baby.
She looked a lot like that girl so long ago.
And then Alessa was gone, dead. There was nothing I could have done to help. I simply clutched the baby to my chest and ran off.
The whole thing felt like a dream, but I had proof that it wasn’t. The girl was nowhere to be found, and in my arms… the baby.
Now 17 years have passed. It feels like only yesterday, and again it feels like a million years ago.
I confess I had reservations at first about raising that baby. Could I love her? Her existence was thoroughly unexplainable.
I thought, “She could be that young woman who snatched away my beloved daughter.” That led to sadness, anger… there were times when I put my hands around her tiny little throat.
Several times I even considered abandoning her. That’s what a terrible person I am.
But I decided to raise her after all. I just couldn’t seem to let her go. When she… when you look at me, you laugh, so…
Even now, I can’t forget about that girl. But I love you. I have no doubts about that. That’s all I ask you to believe.
To my precious daughter…
Client: Claudia Wolf
Request: Searching for (then infant) Alessa Gillespie, kidnapped by man named Harry Mason.
No word from police. Kidnap location unknown.
Old Silent Hill newspaper article: Alessa Gillespie (7) dead in fire.
Links to current case? To be investigated. Priority: low.
Using alias “Heather.” Neighbors do not know real name. What is she hiding?
According to records, 24 years old. Client says looks 17—plausible?
Lived in Portland ’til 12 years ago. Got wrapped up in a murder case; Harry shot suspect.
Justifiable self-defense, so no punishment. Moved away immediately after, started to use alias.
Apparently no connection with the criminal. Just some occult freak, slightly off from way back. Originally from Silent Hill?
Book: Otherworld Laws
This magic square, with strong protective and dispelling properties, is called the “Virun VII Crest” or the “Seal of Metraton.”
It will bring results regardless of whether the target is good or evil; its strength, therefore, places a very high burden on the caster. As it is also difficult to control, it is not usually used.
This is why it bears the name “Metraton,” after the angel Metatron (or Metraton), also known as the “Agent of God.”