Silent Hills Pt Novels & Stories

The expanse above us was a gorgeous shade of blue, and if I kept my back to the bruised streaks of violet forcing their way from the south, I could almost forget the impending doom hurtling towards us. "You okay?" Lillith asked, stopping beside me. Her almost waist length hair was down, neatly brushed and pushed back over her shoulders. "Yeah. Tired is all." Tired of running from the Sades and their Shadow Men. Tired of seeing their victories heralded in the darkening sky and the used bodies left in their wake. Tired of missing Nick, of not knowing where he was or if he was even alive anymore and tired of feeling like a pale skinned, violet eyed freak.

Lightsticks beamed brightly in the darkness, flooding the space with vibrant hues. "Silence speaks for those who listen." Kyle's magnetic voice came through as he jumped down the swing. The music gradually grew louder. "This song tells the story of a boy who took forever to understand the whispers of his silence, finally losing the girl he loves," he continued. "Hope you'll enjoy it."

She missed walking down the road like every other average lady without any fear of being watched. She missed the nostalgic feeling of freedom. She laughed at how things had barely changed. Not like she had expected it to, but she couldn’t help but wish things had changed. Diverting to the lonely path, she took out her phone and plugged in her earphones, playing gentle music to go with the environment, and twirled around noiselessly. This was her favorite scene. Her in a quiet place surrounded by nothing but grass and a pond, dancing with an invisible partner. Suddenly, she stopped and stared straight at her front, trying hard not to fall from her sudden stop.

"No. The Slag Heap is the bowels of Oakhaven. It’s where the 'Ironless' live—the people my father deemed useless for the war effort. It’s dangerous, dirty, and crawling with informants. You stay here." "I am coming," Saoirse said. Her voice wasn't loud, but it had the weight of a command. "If this Silas knows the ventilation, he knows where the God-Shell is housed. He knows where the connection points are." She stepped closer, the water dripping from her hair onto her bare collarbone. "If we are going to do your plan—if I am to be the poison—I need to know how the machine drinks." Tristan grabbed her shoulders. His grip was hard, desperate.

Turns her to stone. Hulio Ripples.

We moved through the forest like ghosts. Silas led the way, his every step smooth and calculated, like he had walked these woods in his dreams. The sunlight barely filtered through the canopy above, and the pine needles beneath our boots muffled any sound. I could feel the pull of the bond like a wire strung tight between us—silent, but always there. He hadn’t spoken much since we left the camp’s perimeter. I didn’t press him. There was something haunted in his eyes—something bruised and bleeding beneath the surface that made me afraid to touch it.