Silence. That was all I heard. I was standing, stretching every nerve in my body, listening for something. I looked up at the black and borderless sky. I wasn't looking for interest, but more of looking for an answer. An answer not of why I was here, but how I got here. The silence wasn't that of the comfort you would usually welcome with open arms, but that of the silence that comes with a presence. The very presence that makes you think there is some entity lurking behind your back. The very essence of evil...
The caw of a nearby crow breaks the silence induced trance thought has put me in. I turned around to find a crow in front of the trees that whistled with help from the sudden breeze. Everyone says that crows are that of an evil presence. I, however, don't believe in such superstitions. Those myths and stories are for those who are the faint of heart, or those with a brave heart. Either which way, I don't believe in those myths.
I planned to walk down the hill back to my house, but my eyes were fixed on this crow. It wasn't superstition, per say but, something about this bird was interesting to say the least. And, as I looked at this crow, it seemed to have its eyes staring back at me. I would have looked away, if it weren't for the fact that I could not move. This was strange, as any person would think, but at the same time, in the dark night, it was a sign that there was a looming anger, fear, a danger. It was a feeling one could not explain with words. It was just a paranoia of an exponential amount. The crow was not the only thing there. It was not the only being that was there that had a pulse, that was living... Questions formed in my mind about what was happening, but before I could make sense of anything, I heard a rustle come from the trees that were no longer whistling from the wind.
I took my attention away from the crow, and tried to locate the source of the sound. There was nothing at first, but later there was something settling in through the trees. I saw the area ahead of me grow dark, until it became too uneasy to be natural. The darkness consumed the trees and the crow flew away to another victim it would soon beckon to. The darkness soon became a fierce dark, black as pitch. As the dark came closer, a sound came forward as well; it was a quiet screech. The blackness came closer and closer until it was surrounding me. But at the same time, the sound was at the same distance.
It was a few moments until the sound eventually came closer. It came so close that it started to pierce my ears. A black, hooded figure cut through the black, seeping fog. He came closer and closer, until the figure was right in front of me. The figure had a cloak and two empty sockets where eyes should be. This being truly did not have a soul. And as it came closer to my face, the screeching was deafening. The figure grabbed my face with its bony hands and brought my face closer to its face. The screeching got louder and louder until...
Silence. That was all I heard. I was standing, stretching every nerve in my body, listening for something.
"The silent hill was located near London, England in the 18th century. Although now, it was paved over as a road, there is still believed to be some spiritual significance to the hill. People used to visit the hill as a 'thinking place'. Although, everyone who went to the hill had died several months afterward. But, people who didn't die were reported to have gone insane, rambling about hallucinations and death."