iamassumption (iamassumption) wrote in townofsilence,
iamassumption
iamassumption
townofsilence

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Who: Walter Sullivan
When: Evening
Where: Silent Hill Cemetery
Open To: Anyone within the area in Foggy Silent Hill


Christ, my head hurts.
bright light toobrightmakeitstop it hurts momMomMOMMY
Not the most eloquent of first thoughts after being revived from death, but they were appropriate to the situation. Walter’s head did indeed hurt - it felt like someone had taken an axe and tried to split his head open with the blunt end. In fact, his entire body ached in some form or another. An attempt to open his eyes caused such a sharp pain to his already pounding headache that he decided it was best to just lay there for a while and suffer until he felt a bit better.
blood itsbloodmyblood blood everywhere
Laying there with his eyes shut tightly, Walter decided to test his other senses. He ached because whatever he was laying on was hard and cold, and several protrusions were digging into his back and limbs. He could hear a soft creaking and rustling, and felt the cool moisture of a place outdoors on his face. He could smell dirt and vegetation, and a hint of things rotting in the cool damp. Using his awesome powers of deduction, Walter decided that he was lying in the middle of the woods.
dont diecantMOMdie whywhy why
The question is, Walter thought, “Why the hell am I here and not dead.”
dark so dark cant see cant see let me out
Obviously his death didn’t seem to matter too much, especially to who- or whatever had decided to bring him back. They even gave him a sore throat from lack of use and breathing damp air for however long he had been passed out.; his voice had come out as a weak croak as further evidence.
let me outlet me outletmeout LETMEOUT
After laying there for a little longer, he finally braved bracing himself and working on sitting up. Every joint and muscle let out sharp jabs of protest until he was finally sat up, slouching into himself and wincing. Once the pains had faded to a dull roar of aching Walter tried opening his eyes again. Blinded again, but not nearly so badly, he managed to squint before working his way on up to fully open, test blink a couple times, and even rub at the blurriness that wouldn’t quite disappear.
sorry so so so sorry mommy i’m sorry
Of what he could see, Walter could make out the rough dirt path he was laying in the middle of, tendrils of mist floating around him and winding about the trees and brush. The sun was low in the sky that could be seen through the thick branches, turning a painfully bright molten shade that made his eyes water even with what little there was visible.
mom… mom mom mo…
A few more moments of rest and Walter was able to stand again, shakily. Patting down his coat and pants, he felt something hard in a pocket. Digging into it, his fingers closed around thin, cold metal and he pulled it out, holding it up to see.

“Hardy-fuckin-har,” he muttered, dropping the worn, blood-stained spoon back into his pocket.

Thirsty, aching, and confused, Walter began to carefully trudge his way down the dirt path. He needed to figure out what was going on, and the first step to that was finding out where he was. As he was beginning to run out of breath and slumped against a tree to rest, he caught a faint sound ahead. Pushing himself back to his feet and starting on the path again, Walter could now see an all-too familiar rusted gate swinging slightly on its hinges and crumbling stone wall covered with forest vegetation ahead.

The Silent Hill Cemetery.
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