Alex and Heather were in an elevator in the alternate world of Silent Hill. The encounter with Pyramid Head had become just a minor part of the journey for Alex—he was already used to such creatures. But Heather was still breathing heavily, her chest rising unevenly, her palms damp with sweat.

Even though Alex had carried her in his arms during the escape to get away as quickly as possible, Heather was terrified by Pyramid Head’s mere presence—his heavy footsteps, the scraping of the great knife along the floor, the rusty metal of the pyramid reflecting the red light of the lamps. And the fact that the creature hadn’t even been hurt by the grenade explosion—it had merely staggered slightly and continued walking—made her heart pound even harder.

Alex himself calmly leaned his back against the cold metal wall of the elevator. The light bulb overhead flickered, casting harsh shadows on his face. He thought that he should have dealt with Pyramid Head right there in the corridor after all. Of course, Alex knew: if you kill one, others will take its place; the city will just spawn new ones.

But that didn’t stop the burning desire to beat the creature until it lost its form, and then send it to the Red World—as a guard at one of the red doors. The thought of Pyramid Head standing there, great knife in hand, guarding his wife’s territory brought a slight smile to Alex’s face.

Stopping his thoughts about what he should have done and what he shouldn’t, Alex looked at Heather. She had caught her breath, recovered from the fright of Pyramid Head—though her eyes were still wide open, and her fingers trembled slightly. Looking at her, Alex lightly patted the girl on the shoulder with a slight smile on his face. Heather responded with a weak nod—grateful, but still tense.

And at that very moment, the elevator jerked slightly and stopped. Alex and Heather turned their heads. The doors opened—and the alternate apartments stretched out before them again: rusty grates instead of walls, dim red light from the lamps, the smell of blood and metal that had grown even thicker.

Heather looked at Alex questioningly—she thought that if they went up in the elevator, they would end up somewhere else, not in the same building. Alex slightly raised an eyebrow, and at that moment the elevator jerked again and went up.

As the elevator rose higher and higher, an interesting sight flashed before them. Each floor they passed began to change—like a reverse slide show, where everything went in reverse order: rust receded, walls became intact, dust disappeared, the lamp light grew brighter. And despite the fact that the Wood Side Apartments had no more than four floors, including the roof, Alex and Heather had already passed at least ten.

“So, we finally got out?” Heather asked in surprise, turning to Alex.

“Luckily, yes. Otherwise, I had the feeling we’d have to keep running from that Pyramid Head through the alternate apartments,” Alex said, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his coat.

“That doesn’t sound very pleasant. You threw a grenade at it, and that… that creature wasn’t even hurt. How do you even deal with it?” Heather said, hesitating slightly, not knowing how to properly refer to Pyramid Head.

“Cheryl, that Pyramid Head can be killed—you just need to know how. And think about it when we meet it again. If we meet it, of course,” Alex said, shrugging slightly and looking at Heather.

Heather opened her mouth to ask another question, but the elevator stopped.

When the doors opened, Alex and Heather saw a dark room lit only by the light from the elevator. At the end of this small room was just one door. Everything looked as if they had ended up in some utility room—rusty pipes along the walls, old crates covered in dust and cobwebs.

Alex quickly looked around and stepped out of the elevator first. Heather immediately followed, not wanting to be left alone even for a second. When they left the elevator, it emitted a short beep, the doors closed—and it went back down somewhere.

Alex cast only a brief glance at the departing elevator and turned to the only door. Approaching it, he grasped the door handle and turned it slightly—the metal was cold and rough. Alex pushed the door forward—and it opened with the characteristic creak of old hinges.

Along with the opened door, they were greeted by the sight of a foggy rooftop. Alex stepped forward first and walked out onto the roof, looking around. To figure out where he was, he approached the edge of the roof, leaned his hands lightly on the parapet, and leaned forward, peering into the thick fog. Visibility was terrible—the whitish veil hid almost everything, but through it, the outlines of neighboring buildings could be seen.

Heather also peered forward over the parapet, trying to make out any landmarks. And the attention of both was drawn to the building across the street. Squinting slightly, Alex read the name on the facade and smiled.

“Seems like we’re right where we need to be,” Alex said, pointing ahead.

“Midwich Elementary School… So that means we just need to go down, and we’re there?” Heather said, reading the name, and looked at Alex.

“That’s right. As I said— the city will lead us where we need to go,” Alex said, lighting a cigarette.

Heather was finally convinced of what Alex had said earlier and began looking around for a way to get down. Meanwhile, Alex took the radio from his pocket and tried to contact Agent Collins, who was at Midwich School. First, he tried the general channel—only static and crackling in response. Then he switched to the emergency channel. But there—silence too.

Alex understood: there were only two options. Either Collins was already dead, or he had lost his radio or broken it while running or fighting off another monster.

Holding the radio in his hands and continuing attempts to contact not only Collins but also other agents, Alex put his other hand in his pocket and touched two badges—Franklin’s and Ward’s. Of course, he hoped the agents could survive in Silent Hill. But he understood perfectly well: the city loves to drag old traumas and guilt to the surface—and often that’s what causes death.

While Alex was trying to contact all the agents trapped in Silent Hill, Heather was examining the roof for a way down. She cautiously peeked behind doors, looking for a fire escape. And at that moment, sounds attracted both of them—shouts, footsteps, heavy breathing.

Heather approached Alex, and they looked down from the roof, trying to see what was happening below. Because of the thick fog, it was hard to see anything, but through the whitish veil, silhouettes could be made out—three figures in Order protective suits running full speed toward Midwich School.

“Seems like someone’s down there,” Heather said in a quiet tone, pointing to the silhouettes in the fog moving as if fleeing from something.

Alex raised a finger to his lips, signaling Heather to let him listen. He activated his magical sight—and immediately saw: three members of the Order cult were fleeing from monsters and running toward Midwich School.

But they didn’t get far—a pack of horrific skinless dogs burst out of the fog. One of the dogs quickly overtook the straggler sectarians and sank its teeth into his leg in a leap, knocking him to the ground. The other two didn’t even look back—they kept running.

But they didn’t get far either. A staggering figure of a Lying Figure emerged from the fog—a monster wrapped in raw skin. The creature spewed a stream of bile acid straight at one of the sectarians. At that moment, a loud cry of pain echoed through the area. Heather grew alarmed—in contrast to Alex, she couldn’t see what was happening below because of the thick fog, but the scream was so piercing it chilled her to the bone.

The sectarian hit by the caustic acid immediately began screaming, trying to tear off his protective clothing—but it helped little. The acid burned through the fabric, skin, flesh. While he tried to save himself, the monster approached and knocked him to the ground—and spewed acid right in his face. The scream turned into a gurgling rasp.

The third Order member continued to flee, despite the fact that two of his comrades had already become victims. He reached the main entrance of Midwich School and tried to open the doors—literally battering them with his shoulder.

When he finally managed to open the door, a Grey Child leaped out from the other side—a deformed child monster with a rusty knife in its hands. It knocked the sectarian to the ground and grabbed his head with its hand.

Before the knife plunged into the eye socket, a brief thought flashed in the sectarian’s mind: why had there become so many monsters? Why had they suddenly become so aggressive? No one in the Order knew the true reason—it was all Alessa’s doing, to clear a safe path for Heather.

And at that moment, the knife plunged into the eye socket, piercing the protective gas mask. The sectarian felt the blade entering his brain but didn’t die from the first strike. The Grey Child began striking blow after blow to the head until the body finally went limp—still twitching slightly from the knife plunging straight into the brain.

Alex, standing next to Heather on the roof of the building directly across from Midwich Elementary School, saw the deaths of the Order members from beginning to end—through his magical sight. Heather saw nothing—she only heard strange, muffled sounds mixed with monster growls and sounds like someone being torn apart.

Alex shifted his gaze to the first sectarian—at that moment, the monster dogs were devouring him. Then to the second—whose face had been melted by bile acid down to the bones. And finally to the third—being gutted by the Grey Child.

In passing, Alex noticed Alessa. She stood in the window of one of the classrooms, watching all this with her usual impassive expression. Alex and Alessa’s gazes met for a moment. Alex quickly made a heart shape with his hands over his head. A flicker of surprise flashed across Alessa’s impassive face for a brief instant—after which she disappeared.

Heather didn’t see what Alex did. When she turned toward him—he had already lowered his hands.

“What happened down there? Who was screaming so loudly? Maybe your colleagues?” Heather asked, looking at Alex.

“No, I don’t think so. There would have been gunshots. Most likely, Order members fell into the monsters’ hands. I just hope they didn’t lead all the monsters from the area here,” Alex said, calmly lying about what had happened below.

“Did you manage to contact the agent who was in the school? Or the other agents?” Heather asked after a short silence.

“Unfortunately, no. I think after we get back, I should tell the R&D department to improve equipment for places like this. The connection is terrible,” Alex said, shaking his head slightly.

Heather didn’t know what to say to Alex’s words, so she just nodded.

When the noise below finally died down, Alex suggested to Heather that they go down. She immediately pointed to the side of the roof where she had spotted a fire escape—rusty, but intact.

Alex walked forward and calmly climbed over the roof parapet, extending a hand to Heather to help her over. As they began descending the fire escape, Heather kept peeking into the building’s windows—just in case something was there.

Descending one floor lower, she saw a mannequin in the window—it stood in the center of a long corridor. Heather gave it only a brief glance. Descending another floor lower—the same mannequin, but now standing closer to the window.

Heather frowned slightly and looked at Alex, who continued descending lower, ignoring the mannequin.

And when they descended yet another floor lower—this same mannequin was now pressed right against the window, its empty eyes staring straight at them.

“God, you’re annoying,” Alex said, smashing the window with his hand.

Heather didn’t have time to understand what was happening before she heard the sound of breaking glass. In the next moment, Alex pulled the mannequin through the window and grabbed its head with his other hand. Without much emotion, he looked at it—and began twisting the head. A nauseating sound of breaking bones and crunching plastic rang out. Alex jerked his hand slightly—and tore the head off the mannequin. Thick, black blood immediately began flowing from the neck.

With an indifferent expression, Alex tossed the mannequin’s body over the railing and looked at Heather, who was slightly stunned by what she saw.

“Don’t be surprised by this. It’s just a regular monster mannequin. They always do the same thing: approach slowly at first, then attack. The most dangerous thing about them is that it’s hard to distinguish them from regular mannequins,” Alex said in a calm tone, giving advice.

“And are these mannequins common? I mean—not just in this place, but in general,” Heather asked questioningly, looking at Alex.

“Something like that. Either ghosts possess them, or the mannequins are cursed. Essentially the same thing, but the essence is one,” Alex said, continuing to descend further down the fire escape.

“You’ve mentioned ghosts more than once… Do they exist?” Heather asked in a surprised tone, following Alex.

“Of course. What interests me more is why this surprises you? We’re essentially in a cursed city with monsters and all that. But ghosts surprise you,” Alex said, turning his head slightly as he continued descending.

“So you’re a ghost hunter too, not just a monster hunter?” Heather asked with a slight smile on her face.

“Nope. I try to avoid working with ghosts,” Alex said, shaking his head as he reached the last section of the fire escape.

“Why? Are you afraid of ghosts?” Heather asked, raising an eyebrow.

“It’s not that. To put a ghost to rest—you need to burn its remains. And for that, you usually have to dig up a grave. Then bury it again. And when it’s all over—you’re covered in dirt. In general, not an interesting job… Anyway, enough questions. The stairs down are broken—so I’ll jump first, then you,” Alex said, kicking the stairs lightly. They crashed down with a clang.

The metallic clatter of the fallen stairs rang out immediately. Alex stepped forward and jumped down. Making sure there were no monsters nearby, he looked at Heather and nodded.

Heather crouched slightly and jumped down—landing right into Alex’s arms. Catching her, Alex set the girl on the ground. She straightened her denim skirt, which had ridden up during the jump.

When Heather was ready, Alex walked forward—and together they left the alley, heading toward Midwich School.

As they got closer, the radio in Alex’s pocket began emitting static noise. Alex drew Ebony from its holster and fired three quick shots at the monster dogs that were still gnawing on the sectarian’s body. Heather tried not to look at the sectarian’s corpse—now joined by the corpses of the monster dogs—and walked on.

As Alex passed the sectarian’s body, he heard a faint rasp—the man was somehow still alive after being literally torn apart by the monster dogs. But Alex, without changing his expression, simply walked past, pushing Heather in the back so she wouldn’t turn around. At that moment, Alex’s shadow stretched slightly—until it was right under the dying sectarian.

The shadow began to distort—from it emerged sharp, bloodied teeth like a monster’s maw. In the next instant, the maw clamped around the dying sectarian’s body—devouring him completely with a wet crunch and dragging him into the Red City.

Alex smiled slightly, continuing to keep his hands on Heather’s shoulders and pushing the girl forward so she wouldn’t slow down or look at what was happening around.

They calmly passed another killed sectarian—whose face had been melted to the bones by bile acid. A nauseating smell of burned flesh and chemicals emanated from the body. Heather had a retching reflex—she quickly covered her mouth with her hand to keep from vomiting from the horrific smell.

Soon, Alex and Heather reached the entrance to Midwich Elementary School. The corpse of the last sectarian lay at the doors— a rusty knife plunged into his head. Alex scanned with his eyes for the Grey Child that had killed the sectarian. Not finding the child monster, he just shrugged and looked up.

As Alex remembered, Midwich Elementary School was also run by the Order. From childhood, they indoctrinated the children’s heads with faith in their cult. It was in this school that Alessa studied—and it was here she endured all possible bullying from her classmates. Which everyone turned a blind eye to—including Alessa’s own mother, Dahlia, who also bullied her own daughter, plunging her into even greater despair and pain.

“Here we are… Cheryl, do you feel anything? Or have memories started to clear up?” Alex said, turning his head toward Heather, who had frozen, staring at the school entrance.

Heather didn’t respond to Alex’s words. She continued staring at the Midwich School entrance—and at that moment, fragments of different memories flashed in her head, with meanings she couldn’t understand.

At one moment, the main school entrance looked lively—children entering and exiting with smiles on their faces. But she felt no joy from what she saw—only anxiety, loneliness, and pain. And in another moment, the same entrance was before her—but exactly like this one, long forgotten and abandoned, as if Midwich School had stood empty for many years.

And most importantly in these memories—they seemed to have happened a very long time ago, but exactly when—she couldn’t remember. Two sets of memories surfaced in Heather’s head: one belonged to Alessa when she attended Midwich School; the other—when Heather herself and her father ended up in the already fog-shrouded Silent Hill.

These two sets of memories didn’t let Heather understand the true picture—which caused another headache attack. Clutching her head, she squatted down, pressing her temples, trying to dull the pain and get rid of the endless stream of memories she couldn’t comprehend.

But at that very moment, Heather felt warmth on her head and a sense of calm. The pain began to recede. She opened her eyes and met Alex’s rainbow eyes—he was gently stroking her head, helping her come to her senses.

“Cheryl, you feeling better?” Alex asked with a kind smile on his face.

“Yes… I think so… Just my memories of this place… They’re strange again…” Heather said, trying to recover from the headache attack.

“How strange?” Alex asked, helping Heather to her feet.

“They’re different. I saw children coming to school… And others… Other memories—as if I was already here when the city was covered in fog. But that’s impossible. In both memories, I clearly knew I was seven years old. And I definitely couldn’t have attended this school as a child. How is that possible?” Heather said, trying to find the right words to express her thoughts.

“I think we’ll get all the answers you need in the school. Your memories aren’t connected to this place for no reason,” Alex said, stroking Heather’s head lightly.

“I also felt fear and pain when those memories surfaced in my head,” Heather said just before Alex opened the school doors.

Alex nodded understandingly and tugged the door handle slightly. But as usual— the doors wouldn’t budge. Sighing, Alex grabbed both doors with both hands and yanked them toward him—literally ripping the school entrance doors off their hinges. The doors crashed off the hinges with a bang, raising a cloud of dust.

Seeing what Alex had done, Heather stared at him in shock—momentarily forgetting her memories. She watched as Alex held both doors in his hands and simply tossed them aside.

“Open house day at Midwich Elementary today. So we can come in,” Alex said, stepping first into the Midwich School hall.

“The doors aren’t open—they’re ripped off…” Heather muttered, stepping after Alex.

“Details of life, Cheryl,” Alex said, waving the hand holding his cigarette.

Entering the hall of Midwich Elementary School, Alex and Heather were greeted by the familiar sight: old peeling walls shedding plaster, a thick layer of dust on the floor and walls, dark rooms emanating cold and dampness.

Alex and Heather stood in the school hall, looking around and thinking about where to start first. Wiggling his finger slightly, Alex chose a direction and moved to the right. He wanted Heather to sort out her memories—so they needed to visit places where Alessa had definitely been.

Heather cautiously stepped after Alex, shining her flashlight ahead. Alex expected the appearance of child monsters—those embodied from Alessa’s horrific memories of this place. But so far—besides one Grey Child that killed an Order cult member—he saw nothing.

“Look, the nurse’s office. Maybe your colleague was here?” Heather asked, shining the flashlight on the door with the “Nurse’s Office” sign.

“Worth checking. Maybe you’ll remember something else in the nurse’s office,” Alex said, looking at Heather.

With his words, Alex opened the nurse’s office doors and pulled them toward him. Peeking inside, he noticed: someone had been here recently. Entering, Alex began examining the open shelves, broken jars, scattered bandages, and empty ampoules.

Heather sat on the medical couch in the nurse’s office with a glassy stare and stared into space. New memories began surfacing before Heather’s eyes again—she was sure they didn’t belong to her.

A woman in a nurse’s uniform stood before her eyes—and was saying something, but the words were hard to make out. But Heather managed to catch one thing—the name “Alessa.” The nurse called the name Alessa—and at that moment, the surfacing memories in Heather’s head stopped.

She snapped out of it and turned her head—looked at Alex. He had placed the lit flashlight on the table and was holding the radio in his hands, trying again to contact Agent Collins.

Failing to establish contact once more, Alex just clicked his tongue and hung the radio back on his pocket. Then he looked at Heather—whose eyes were slightly glazed.

“Did you see or remember something again?” Alex asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Yes… Like I was sitting on this couch, and a nurse was saying something to me. But I couldn’t understand what she was saying. And she called me Alessa,” Heather said, looking at Alex.

“Alessa, huh… Means we need to check the teachers’ lounge or the archives. There should be the necessary documents—if they haven’t rotted from dampness and time, of course,” Alex said, starting to exit the nurse’s office.

“You know who Alessa is? You have that look like you’re not surprised to hear that name,” Heather said, noticing Alex’s expression.

“I know… And I know a lot. And it’s not a story worth telling. Trust me… Right now, we need to find out what connects you and Alessa,” Alex said, stepping into the school corridor.

Hearing Alex’s words, Heather immediately ran out of the nurse’s office and followed him. He walked down the school corridor at a calm pace, occasionally shining the flashlight on door signs—to find the teachers’ lounge or archives with records.

Catching up to Alex, Heather still had questions in her head about what Alex knew about Alessa and why he didn’t want to talk about it. Alex himself recalled everything he knew about what happened to Alessa in this school—including Alessa’s so-called only friend, who ultimately turned away from her.

Sighing, Alex extended his hand sideways and began running his fingers along the wall, continuing to immerse himself in his thoughts.

“And still—what happened to her?” Heather asked, unable to bear Alex’s silence.

“The same thing the Order plans to do to you. Only their ritual failed—and you’ve seen the result yourself,” Alex said without turning his head, continuing down the corridor.

“They wanted to make her a vessel for their god?” Heather asked cautiously, following Alex.

“Yes… I told you—Alessa’s story isn’t something to listen to. What happened to Alessa shows the true nature of people like that, who blindly follow faith, thinking they’re doing the right thing. And Alessa is just one of many victims in the Order’s hands,” Alex said, stopping to look at Heather.

Seeing Alex’s gaze, Heather shuddered slightly and quickly understood: she should stop asking questions. She didn’t know why, but she clearly saw anger in his eyes when he spoke about Alessa and what happened to her.

Seeing that Heather got the hint, Alex calmly continued down the corridor.

When Alex and Heather approached the door leading to another corridor, Alex simply kicked it down—opening the passage further. And at that moment, the radio began emitting static noise again. A Grey Child fell from the ceiling—clutching a rusty knife in its hands.

Heather didn’t have time to raise her pistol before Alex kicked the Grey Child—it flew to the other end of the corridor and crashed into the wall with a crunch. The radio went silent—the monster was dead.

After kicking the child monster, Alex slightly suppressed his irritation from being in this school and headed toward the teachers’ lounge, which was in the middle of the corridor.

Opening the teachers’ lounge doors, the smell of dust and mustiness hit Alex in the face immediately. Entering, he saw a row of teachers’ desks—littered with school notebooks and other papers.

“Let’s look around. If we find nothing—we’ll go to the archives,” Alex said, looking at Heather.

Heather nodded and began checking the cabinets. Alex rummaged through the teachers’ desks, pretending to search for something. In reality, he wanted Heather’s memories of Alessa to surface again.

And Alex was also looking for something that could point to other significant places connected to Alessa or other people linked to Silent Hill.

Rummaging in another desk, Alex found a folder related to the orphanage—children from which attended Midwich School. Like Midwich School itself, the “Wish House” orphanage—these places were also connected to the Order.

Opening the folder with documents, Alex saw a list of names of children from “Wish House” who attended Midwich School. He was surprised for a brief moment seeing Walter Sullivan’s name—but quickly remembered: Dahlia Gillespie personally visited “Wish House” to see how the orphanage children were initiated into the Order’s beliefs and their so-called paradise without pain and suffering.

Quickly leafing through the document, Alex glanced at Heather—she was searching the cabinets—and immediately tossed the folder onto his shadow. The shadow absorbed the document upon touching it.

Moving from one desk to another, Alex found a dusty old diary in the bottom cabinet of a teacher’s desk. Opening it and starting to read, Alex quickly realized: the diary belonged to a teacher who sincerely empathized with Alessa for everything the girl went through not only at school but also at home.

After reading the diary, Alex just sighed. No matter how the teacher tried to stop the other children from bullying Alessa—it didn’t work. As if someone deliberately added fuel to the fire every time. And the most unpleasant were the lines about how the teacher suspected the janitor—the one who liked to peep at girls in the bathroom, especially Alessa.

Closing the teacher’s diary, Alex sighed and kicked the trash can closer. He took a lighter from his pocket. After all, Alex’s goal remained the same—to erase all bad memories associated with Alessa so she could leave this place with him.

Alex held the lighter to the diary and set it on fire—tossed it into the trash can. The flames quickly engulfed the yellowed pages.

Heather heard the noise and turned her head—saw Alex burning something in the trash can.

“What are you burning there?” Heather asked suspiciously, looking at Alex.

“Just trash. My hands got cold—so I decided to warm up. Did you find anything?” Alex asked, putting on an innocent face and holding his hands over the burning trash can.

“Just an old school album—in one of the cabinets. Everything else has long spoiled,” Heather said, showing the school album she held in her hands.

Alex raised an eyebrow and approached Heather to see what kind of album it was. Heather understood what Alex wanted and placed the school album on the table—opened the first page.

The first page had a class group photo. Alex quickly spotted Alessa with his eyes—she stood at the very edge of the photo, like an outcast.

Heather began leafing through the school album pages—until she stopped at the page with Alessa’s photo. And froze.

Looking at Alessa’s photo, Heather couldn’t believe what she saw.

“You two look alike. A lot alike,” Alex said, looking at Heather.

“But how is that possible? She looked exactly like me as a child…” Heather said in a stunned tone.

“I think only a few people can give us the answer to that question,” Alex said, taking Alessa’s photo in his hand and putting it in the inner pocket of his coat.

“Who? Who could know why I look so much like Alessa?” Heather asked, clutching the school album in her hands.

“Well, let’s count. Alessa herself—but I don’t think she’ll want to talk. Claudia—but meeting her will end in a bloodbath. Alessa’s mother, Dahlia Gillespie—locked in the hospital. And the very last person is your father. After all, he was the one who managed to leave Silent Hill, taking you with him,” Alex said, showing four fingers.

“But we don’t even know where they’re holding him—in the hospital or prison. How are we going to find him? Or will you say again that we should hope the city leads us to the right place?” Heather said in a confused tone.

“This time, your memories will help us. Just let them guide the way,” Alex said, stroking Heather’s hair.

Heather didn’t understand what Alex meant by “rely on memories.” Seeing the confusion on her face, Alex explained nothing more—and saw no point in it. After all, the path was predetermined from the start.

Leaving the teachers’ lounge, Alex cast a brief glance at the dusty painting of the clock tower in the central courtyard—on which, in the alternate world, a door with stretched chains was painted.

Closing the teachers’ lounge doors, Alex and Heather continued down the school corridor. Until Heather suddenly stopped—and as if guided, she began walking forward with quick steps, as if in another moment she would lose the thread leading her.

Quickly following Heather, Alex saw her running toward the girls’ bathroom. Alex caught up with her when she had already entered the girls’ bathroom and opened the second-to-last stall.

Peeking in after her, Alex saw hundreds of drawn eyes on the bathroom walls—and various unpleasant words overlapping each other. Alex, of course, immediately understood what this place was and what specific events were connected to this bathroom stall in the girls’ bathroom.

“Don’t want to explain why you ran here?” Alex asked, looking at the stunned Heather—whose face looked as if she was afraid of something.

“I don’t know… It just seemed like I had to come here…” Heather said in a tone as if she herself didn’t fully understand what had happened.

Alex patted Heather on the shoulder and opened the adjacent stall. As soon as he did—the bathroom filled with the acrid smell of rotting flesh. From the strong repulsive smell, Heather covered her nose with her hand and peeked into the adjacent stall—saw a mangled man’s body in clothing resembling a janitor’s. The body was twisted with sharp iron wire.

Alex looked at the janitor’s body without reacting—just calmly stepped forward, noticing a keychain sticking out of the dead janitor’s pocket. Pulling the keychain, Alex pulled out a single key labeled “Clock Tower.”

“What’s this key for?” Heather asked, still covering her nose to avoid the repulsive smell.

“Key to the clock tower. Let’s go see what’s there,” Alex said, preparing to leave the girls’ bathroom.

Heather nodded understandingly and followed Alex—completely ignoring the janitor’s corpse, which for some reason caused her a strong feeling of anxiety and fear.

But as Alex and Heather approached the doors—a loud siren sounded. And at that moment, the bathroom room began changing before their eyes: plaster began crumbling from the walls, revealing rusty bars; the ceiling began collapsing; the stall walls disappeared—and in their place, rusty metal grates appeared.

Heather grabbed Alex’s coat sleeve—feeling a very bad premonition. Alex calmly waited until they were fully pulled into the alternate Silent Hill.

And when all the changes finished—Alex was ready to leave, holding Heather by the hand. But as soon as they took a step—behind them came the sound of iron wire snapping, followed immediately by the sound of a body falling.

Alex and Heather turned their heads—and saw the previously dead janitor crawling out of the last stall, wrapped in iron wire, clawing at the rusty floor.

Alex calmly let go of Heather’s hand and approached the monster—the dead janitor had turned into one.

“I’d torture you a bit more, but we’ll settle for this for now,” Alex said, raising his foot.

And right after his words, Alex crushed the monster janitor’s head. Heather didn’t hear what Alex said, but the sight of him crushing the monster’s head brought her a strange feeling of relief—as if one of her fears had left her body.

Alex calmly wiped his foot on the monster janitor’s clothing and turned to Heather—noticing the relief on the girl’s face. A smile appeared on Alex’s face—when he realized what that meant. After which he approached Heather and lightly stroked the girl’s hair.

Heather looked at Alex in bewilderment—not understanding why he stroked her hair at every opportunity. And despite the fact that they were in the alternate world again—Heather felt a strange calm from Alex’s presence.

To be continued…

(For heaven’s sake, I’m supposed to be on vacation, but I have absolutely no time. I should be taking a break from work and enjoying some well-deserved rest. But why is it that every time it’s time for vacation, something always happens at home? I’ve been interrupted so many times while writing this chapter, I’ve lost count. Okay, I’ve complained. Now let’s talk about the plot. You could say Alex’s appearance literally shortens the journey so much that they quickly find themselves back in the Other World. With Alex by my side, Heather is practically speedrunning Silent Hill. Hahaha.)

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Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep