Silent Hill: Book Of Memories 소설 & 이야기

"Make sure she can't cause any trouble." Then came the dark magic—tendrils of power wrapping around my mind like chains, stealing my memories, my identity, everything that made me who I was. The last thing I remember before the darkness took me was Richard's voice: "Goodbye, Mica. Thank you for everything." I come back to myself gasping, my face wet with tears. The silk sheets of Damon's guest bed are twisted around my legs, and my chest heaves like I've been running for miles.

Elena asked, her hand going to the hilt of her silver blades, a habit she still hadn't broken, even in peace. ​"It’s the Sallow-Encrypted-File," Sophia said, her voice dropping to a whisper. "We thought we’d downloaded all of the Director’s memories, but this... this is something deeper. It’s a 'Hard-Coded' memory, anchored to a physical location on Earth. Not in the High-Rise. Not in the Gutter."

⸻ A book floated toward Ilyaan. ⸻ Its cover contained no title. No symbols. No words. ⸻ Just silver light. ⸻ “Open it.” She whispered. ⸻ Ilyaan hesitated. ⸻ Then slowly opened the book. ⸻ Immediately— A forgotten memory appeared. ⚡ ⸻ A little boy sitting alone beneath a silver tree. 🌳✨ ⸻ The same tree from Memory Zero. ⸻ The same tree from the beginning.

I replied back as I stretched my hands to remove the painting but it didn’t move, instead it slid and revealed a medium sized box. I took the box out and placed it on the desk. It was an old mahogany box with gold engravings on it. “Sinclair” I opened it carefully and revealed a very thick brown greenish book with about 200 pages made of parchment or something like and had the title written on it with big bold handwriting: “BOOK OF SHADOWS” I smiled happily, I couldn’t believe that I had it in my hands and looked at Kevin who was still anxious saying: “We found it” he nodded his head and was about to speak when we suddenly heard an applause behind us.

His lustful growls were still echoing in her mind, setting a wave of distress to run through her body. She had a sliver of hope that he wouldn't force himself on her, but it died in this very room, on his very bed. Perhaps she had forgotten that nothing is ever exactly as it appears. Appearances can be deceiving. Words are veiled. As the memories kept returning, playing right before her eyes as if she were reliving those traumatic moments again, tears that were beginning to form at the corners of her eyes began to melt down her pale face.

She drove its tip into the final glyph—and the stone cracked. With a groan like mountains shifting, the chamber yawned open. Inside, the walls were lined with sigil-binders—leather-bound, blood-sealed. In the center was a single pedestal. A book rested on it, closed, bound with iron and bone. She stepped forward. The moment her fingers touched the book, heat bloomed through her chest. A memory that was not hers tore through her. Flames. Screams. A woman—her face the mirror of Blythe's—holding a child aloft. Auren whispered, "Protect him." Even from me."

But what caught my attention was the ancient book that lay open on the stone surface. The pages were yellowed with age, the words written in a language I had long since mastered. This was the final step. The ritual that would give me control over Ivy’s memories. Magnus stepped closer, his gaze fixed on the book. "Are you certain? Once you begin, there is no turning back." I nodded without hesitation, my fingers trembling slightly as I reached for the dark knife on the altar. "I’m certain. This is the only way to make her truly suffer. To make her forget who she is. And once she forgets, once she has no memory of herself or her family, she’ll be nothing. She’ll be mine."

Something waiting. --- Determined not to be paralyzed by fear, I returned to the antique bookstore — to the stories, the secrets, the fragments of forgotten women. The elderly owner greeted me with a knowing smile. “You’re searching for answers,” he said quietly. I nodded. He handed me a leather-bound tome, its cover worn but strong — *Reflections of the Forgotten*. “Read carefully,” he advised. “Sometimes the past speaks through shadows.” --- I spent the night poring over its pages. The book told of women trapped in illusions, caught between worlds — ghosts of themselves, struggling to reclaim their true identities.

“I will not pay for your life with your death.” Liolai nodded slowly. “But then the story takes you.” The air thickened, The circle of memory began to collapse in on itself, each memory crumbling like ash. The forest faded. The cliffs dimmed. The crown she once wore dissolved into dust. Kael tried again to reach them. Failed again, He shouted, “There has to be another way!” But the Author only turned the pages of the book. Slowly. One at a time. Each page now bore Liora’s face, Dying, Again, And again, And again, Each version a little different. Some ended in fire. Others in betrayal. Some simply… stopped.