Silent Hill 3: The Novel

Welcome to Silent Hill

Heather was slumped over the table, slowly waking up from her sleep. She could hear the sound of cars passing by and silverware clinking against ceramic plates in the back. Employees shouted orders at each other, customers looked over their menus, and couples engaged in conversation while she dragged her lazy body off the table. She sat up and let out a relieved sigh. What a nightmare. It was late in the evening and Heather felt a certain calm, watching the cars go by as the setting sun cast long shadows across the restaurant. Even the blinds left a mesmerizing pattern of lines that imprinted on the table and Heather herself.

It wasn't the first time she had nightmares like that. In the beginning, they had frightened her, but the more they occurred, the less scary they became. Just annoying now, if anything else. However, they were becoming more frequent lately and Heather couldn't figure out why. Maybe it was just school stress getting to her, she reasoned. Whatever it was, it would probably pass eventually. She stood up and stretched, before stuffing her necklace under her shirt and walking out of the Happy Burger joint. She went up to a public phone and dialed a number. "Hello?" said a voice on the other end.

"Dad, it's me!"

"Heather?"

"Yeah! Sorry I didn't call sooner."

"Were you sleeping in that restaurant again?" he teased.

"Yeah, I guess I was." He let out a chuckle and she couldn't help but smile. He knew her sleeping habits all too well. "Anyway, I'm coming home now."

"Okay honey, be safe."

"Oh! I didn't get that thing you asked me to."

"That's okay. You can pick it up on the way home. I love you sweetheart!"

"Okay, I will. I love you too, dad."

Just as she hung up the phone, a middle aged man appeared around the corner and gave her a stern expression. He had graying hair. A scruffy beard and mustache. And he looked liked a detective with his fedora and trench coat. She gestured towards the phone, thinking that he had been waiting on her to finish her call, but he simply shook his head. What's his problem? Heather wasn't going to put up with this, so she walked away, and he actually had the nerve to follow her. She stopped and like an annoying sibling, he did too. "Heather," he said, "I need to speak with you. My name is Douglas Cartland. I'm a detective." What a surprise. She turned to face him.

"A detective? Really? Well nice talkin' to ya," and she started walking away.

"Hold on," he persisted, "there's someone who wants to meet you." Heather rolled her eyes.

"Just let me have an hour of your time," he said, but then reconsidered the request, "no, half an hour of your time." Heather faced him once again.

"My daddy always told me not to talk to strangers."

"This is very important. It's about your birth."

"I'm not interested," and she walked away for the second time. She hoped that he took the hint, but within seconds, she could hear his footsteps trailing behind. Heather tried to ignore him, but he followed her all the way to the restroom. This was getting ridiculous. She turned to face him for the third time.

"Are you still following me? Do I have to scream?" she threatened.

Douglas raised his hands as if to plead innocence. "Sorry, I'll wait here." This guy couldn't take a hint even if it stared him in the face. Heather entered the restroom and leaned over a sink, shaking her head. What a weirdo. When she looked up, she noticed a strange design was drawn on the mirror in red lipstick. It was round and had three small rings inside it, along with symbols around the edge of the circle. Why does this look so familiar? And where have I seen it before? She tried to remember, but thinking about it made her head throb.