[i]"Through this fog they came along...dark creatures, singing a terrible song..."[/i]

Darren Linus stared at the rusted wooden sign in front of him, the paint starting to peel off, wood worn down and rotting. Turning his gaze up at the sky, he frowned, eyebrows furrowing and jaw clenched. The night was clear, but the sun had dipped low behind the mountains in the distance. Early evening, the darkness was fast approaching. But he couldn't leave her out here. Reaching down, he took the leather dog collar from his belt, looking at it, concern etched in his slightly wrinkled face. Kali, his German Shephard, was somewhere out there. He sighed, took a step forward.

[i]The rest of the bar had laughed at the him, but I felt my hope grow dim. They found him dead, the very next day. "No more stories from him", I'd heard them say.[/i]

Daren Linus thought back to the bar where he sat, alone, drinking down a bottle of whisky. He'd overheard the conversation from those talking about the story on the news, a story apparently involving a regular patron.

[i]They had blamed bad luck on his fate...but I felt terror...so great.[/i]

The man had disappeared around this town. The abandoned, derelict ghost town that Darren now stood before, his eyes glancing the sign up and down. "WELCOME TO SILENT HILL." A town where people go missing. A town locals call haunted. A town that has been cordoned off, and it is considered trespassing to enter. And this town is where poor Kali had taken off when she slipped her collar. 

"Goddamn it," he muttered under his breath. Fastening the collar back to his belt, Darren sighed again and took a step forward. Then another. And another. Walking down the main road leading into the eerie town of Silent Hill. He just wanted to find Kali, and get back home, preferably before it got any darker. It wasn't that he was afraid of the dark or anything silly like that. Hell, he didn't really even know why he felt horrified watching that news story in the bar, overhearing the locals talking of the man that was found dead nearby. He just wanted to get home and go to bed, he'd been hiking all day. He was beat, tired. Worn. 

And so Darren strode down the main road, seeing the decaying and worn buildings up ahead, the town casting it's silhouette against the darkening evening sky. Not wanting to spend hours searching for the dog, he yelled as loud as he could: "KALI!!! KALI, COME!!!" His voice echoed, trailing off into the distance. He listened. No familiar paw-steps could be heard rapidly approaching. The furry little bullet he loved was not dashing towards him at full speed like she always did when he called for her. He would be lying to himself if he were to say he wasn't concerned, worried for her. After all, she could get herself into trouble, rummaging around these old buildings--some of which were on the verge of collapse, as old as they were without anyone to maintain them. 

And so he moved on, walking down the road, the sound of his footsteps on worn concrete the only audible noise breaking the stillness of the evening, as the man began the search for his trusted, furry friend.