Chapter Text
Chapter 4
The fall wasn’t graceful.
The portal spit them out like broken pieces of glass hurled from a fist, sending Morse, Fancy, and Shirl crashing onto cold asphalt. Morse rolled twice, shoulder screaming, arms bruised. Fancy landed on his back with a grunt. Shirl hit the ground on her knees, breath knocked out of her.
Then—
Silence.
Not natural silence.
Dead silence.
Choking. Absolute.
Morse pushed himself up, wincing. The street around them stretched into a grey void. Colourless buildings blurred at the edges, like they were being half-remembered by someone who didn’t care enough to finish painting them. A thick mist crawled across cracked pavement. The sky was a lid of dirty steel, heavy and unmoving.
Fancy (blinked rapidly):W-Where… are we?
Shirl stood slowly, brushing dust off her trousers.
Shirl: This… isn’t Oxford.
Morse didn’t answer.
Because he saw it first.
A tall, rusted sign standing crooked a few meters away. Its paint was chipped, the letters peeling… but still readable under the grey grime.
WELCOME TO SILENT HILL
Home of Tourism
Fancy’s jaw dropped.
Fancy: No. Nope. Nope. I’ve read some horror forums. This is not— We are not— Morse, tell me this is a dream.
Morse swallowed hard. The cold air hurt his lungs.
Morse: It’s not a dream, George.
The wind shifted, carrying with it the faint smell of ash, decay… something metallic.
Shirl (hugged herself, shivering):Is anyone here?”
No answer.
No birds.
No cars.
No voices.
Just an oppressive quiet pressing down on them like a hand around the throat.
Then—
A distant sound.
A soft metallic groan.
Fancy (looked around quickly):Uh… guys?
The noise grew louder. Grinding. Howling through the fog.
Morse (stiffened):No. Not now.
Because he recognized it.
Somehow, he recognized it.
And a split-second later—
The siren wailed.
A long, brutal, metallic scream that tore through the air and into bone, similar to the ones from WWII. The streetlights flickered. The fog thickened, swallowing all vision. The air grew hotter, as if the world itself was burning from the inside out.
Shirl (flinched):What is happening?!
Morse (grabbed both of them by their arms): Inside. Now.
They stumbled toward the nearest structure—a squat, decaying apartment building with shattered windows and a door hanging off one hinge. They burst inside just as the siren dropped abruptly into silence again.
Fancy( gasped for air):W-Why did it stop like that?
Morse didn’t answer.
Because the hallway lights buzzed and sputtered.
The walls underneath the peeling paint seemed… damp.
And something was dripping from the ceiling.
Thick. Dark. Red.
Shirl( took a sharp breath):Is that blood…?
Fancy (yelped and stepped back):We are going to die.
Morse( trying to play cool):We’re not dying.We stay together. We stay alert.
But deep down, his necrophobia was already swirling, making his skin crawl and his stomach churn. But he had to stay cool. He had to be level-headed ,protect his officers( because he was their boss) and find a way for all of them to return to Oxford. But first of all was to survive that creepy place. And the aspect did not helped him at all.
The building’s interior felt like it belonged to a nightmare. Rust ate at the railings. Wallpaper curled and peeled like old skin. The air stank of mold and burnt metal.
Then they heard it.
A door slamming somewhere deeper inside.
And footsteps.
Slow.
Dragging.
Deliberate.
Morse motioned for silence. He moved first, steps quiet despite his heart pounding like a hammer. Fancy and Shirl followed close behind.
They entered a wide hallway. The lights flickered violently overhead.
Fancy (nudged Morse):Why do I feel like something is watching us?
Morse: Maybe it's just your imagination..
Then Morse peeked though a door and stepped inside the room.
And the door beside him slammed shut.
Fancy shrieked.
Shirl ( ran toward the door and grabbed the handle):It’s jammed!
The door swung shut between them with such a deafening clang that they almost jumped out of their skins, locking Fancy and Shirl inside a narrow, rust-covered room.
Morse spun.
Morse( blue eyes wide):FANCY! TREWLOVE!
He grabbed the door—but it didn’t budge.
On the other side, Fancy shouted and pounded the door with his fists.
Fancy: MORSE?! The door’s locked! We’re stuck— What the hell is— Shirl, we're locked here!
Shirl ( breathing quickened): We need to get out! Morse, hurry!
Morse stepped back, ready to summon flame—
Then the hallway lights died.
Darkness swallowed the corridor whole.
Morse heard something behind him.
Something… wet.
Dragging.
Breathing.
He turned slowly—
And froze.
A figure sat in a rusted hospital wheelchair in the middle of the hallway, illuminated by a faint, flickering emergency bulb.
Her head lolled to one side.
Her dress was torn.
Her skin grey and rotting around the jaw.
Black veins crawled across her arms.
No.
No, this couldn’t be. She was dead. Constance Morse was dead.
Morse( Voice cracking): Mom…
His mother’s corpse looked up.
Her eyes were milky white, throat torn open, fingers twitching uncontrollably. Then her jaw unhinged slightly in an unnatural way—and she stood, bones snapping as she straightened.
Constance:Mmm… E-… Endeavour…
Morse stumbled back, breath stolen. His heart stopped.
This wasn’t her.
This wasn’t real.
Silent Hill was playing with him, dragging out the trauma he buried decades ago.
But her smell.
Her movement.
Her voice—
It was her, twisted into something wrong.
She reached for him with decaying fingers.
Morse( Voice choked):Mother…You’re not real. You’re not her.
She laughed.
A wet, bubbling, horrible sound.
Then she spat a stream of sizzling acid where he stood moments before.
Morse rolled aside, hitting the wall hard.
Fancy (banged harder on the door from the other room):MORSE?! What happened?!
Morse (shouted):STAY INSIDE! DON’T OPEN THE DOOR!
The creature lunged.
Morse dodged barely, sliding along the slick floor as acid hissed where it landed. He scrambled toward the exit door at the far end—but it wouldn’t open. The handle burned cold.
Constance: W-Why do You r-run, Endeavour? I'm y-your mother...
Morse( eyes wide, desperate, screaming): YOU'RE NOT MY MOTHER! MY MOTHER'S DEAD!
He slammed his shoulder against the door. Hard. Again. Again.
The monster shrieked behind him.
He felt hot tears escaping and running down his cheeks.
With one last desperate shove—
The door burst open.
Cold fog blasted him in the face as he stumbled onto the street again.
He fell to his knees, chest heaving.
Behind him—the door creaked.
His mother’s corpse stepped out.
Closer.
Morse rose slowly, katanas sheated across his back, flames dancing on his palms.
Morse(whispered): I’m sorry.
She charged.
Morse flipped over her, rolling across the cracked pavement. Acid splattered where he’d been. He spun, thrust his hand out—and fire erupted like a small sun between them.
Constance hissed and reeled back, skin melting.
Morse didn’t hesitate.
He pushed forward, roaring, flames engulfing the creature’s torso. She shrieked—high and distorted—before collapsing into a puddle of blackened sludge on the pavement.
Morse stood over it, chest heaving, smoke rising from his hands.
He didn’t allowed himself to cry, so he wipped his tears with the back of his hand.
But he trembled.
Fancy barreled out of the building door as it suddenly unlocked,swinging his hockey stick like a madman at Olympics, Shirl right behind him.
Fancy( yelled, skidding to a stop): MORSE! Are you— Holy— what WAS that?!
Shirl ( horrified):Is it dead?
Morse didn’t look at them.
Morse( Voice low): Let’s move.Silent Hill knows we’re here now.
Fancy opened his mouth to ask something—but just swallowed and nodded.
Shirl stepped closer, gently touching Morse’s arm. He didn’t flinch—just inhaled shakily.
They walked together into the fog.
Silent Hill watched.
Silent Hill waited.
______________________________________
OXFORD- The ones left behind
The moment the portal closed, the world snapped back into motion.
Cameron screamed Morse’s name again and slammed her fist into the pavement hard enough to crack concrete. Light flared off her in violent bursts.
Jim Strange grabbed the flickering form of the Master of Darkness before he could dissolve into shadow.
Jim( growled, holding the enemy practically off the ground with sheer brute strength.):You’re not leaving till you explain what you just did! Not so fast.
Master of Darkness (hissed):Let… go of me, mortal.
Cameron stepped forward, scepter pointed. Her voice shook with fury.
Cameron: You’re going to bring them back.
Master of Darkness (laughed):I can’t.
Jim (shook him):DON’T LIE.
Master of Darkness( cold, hollow eyes gleamed): I’m not lying. Once the town has them… it decides.
Cameron’s breath hitched. Jim’s jaw clenched. Thursday's blood boiled in his veins and he saw red.
Thursday( barked): What Do You mean you can't bring them back, You damn bastard?! If my officers— if my boy dies because of you— I'll tear You in pieces!
Shirl’s scream from earlier still echoed in their minds.
The Master continued slowly, like savoring their panic.
Master of Darkness:But… there is something that might help you.
Cameron (stiffened):Say it.
Master of Darkness: There is a book. A compilation of paths between realms. Darkness. Light. Lost places caught between realities.
Jim loosened his grip—barely.
Jim: Where is this book?
The Master smiled.
Cruel.
Knowing.
Master of Darkness: Scattered. Hidden. Forgotten. Somewhere in this city.But one thing is certain…
His voice dropped to a whisper.
Master of Darkness: You will not find it in one place.
Cameron (straightened, determination burning):Then we’ll search everywhere in Oxford.
Jim (set his jaw):Station House Nr 4. Castle Gate. The university archives. Radcliffe Camera. Every abandoned library we can get into.
Master of Darkness( eyes narrowed): You won’t find it easily.
Cameron stepped closer, eyes glowing silver
Cameron: We’ll find it. And when we do… I’m coming for you.
The Master dissolved into smoke, vanishing from Jim’s grip.
Jim (spat):Cowardly bastard.
Cameron turned toward Thursday, whose face had gone rigid.
Cameron(quietly): Sir.We’re bringing them home.
Thursday nodded once, tight and solemn faced.
Thursday:Then we start now.
And Oxford began to move—
every detective, every Guardian, every ally—
scouring the city for a book older than the foundations of their world.
Because Morse, Fancy, and Shirl were out there.
Lost in a place that shouldn’t exist.
And they were not going to leave them there.
To be continued......