Silent Hill: Lost - Part 1 (w/ Markiplier)

1


   He knew not where he was wandering. He just kept walking.

   Mark paused to wipe off his glasses, which were collecting condensation. The fog was getting thicker, swirling around his legs. When he replaced his glasses on his face, all there was to be seen was the road in front of him. The white fog blocked everything else from site. He may as well have not cleaned his glasses at all.

   He knew he was dreaming. Wade wasn't actually missing, he wasn't actually in this strange fog-filled place. The blankets on his bed were curled around his sleeping body, he figured. It was all some strangely vivid dream. Maybe he had left a window open, and it was affecting his dreams.

    Regardless, Mark was here. Wade was somewhere in the mist. He would find his friend.

   A crack running lengthwise along the road followed slowly beside him, like a loyal dog. Mark looked down, imagining that it had moved. But no, it ran ahead of him, beyond his sight into the mist. Things were getting to him. He didn't even know how long he had been walking for. It had to have been a while.

   It was another length of time before Mark came upon the first building. It could've been minutes, hours, seconds. His sense of time was really off. But it was the first thing of any sort of distinctness in the white wall of fog. Empty windows looked indifferently down on him, blank and dark. Some sort of business. Maybe it was after hours.

   There were several other buildings after that, all in a sad, shabby line. A little main street, in a town. Maybe Wade was around here somewhere. Why would he be here? Relatives? Curiosity? Got kidnapped?

   It didn't make much sense.

   "Whatever," Mark said to himself, reassuring himself with the sound of his voice. I should start calling for him, he though.

   "Wade?" he shouted down the street. The fog swallowed the sound, leaving no echo. "Wade?"

   No answer.

   Mark cleared his throat. It felt raspy. "Wade? Where are you?!" he yelled, stepping forward. He stopped and coughed.

  Distantly, he heard someone call his name.

   "Wade!" Mark darted forward, eyes searching. "Are you there?!"

   This time his voice was replied to by a metallic click. It was loud, surrounding him and leaving traces of its sound after it was done. Something brushed Mark's back, leaving a trace of cold damp between his shoulders. He turned, eyes widening with fright.

   A full-body mannequin stood there. It was slightly hunched, white plastic skin mottled with mildew. A black line, drawn in some sort of thick fluid, was in place where a mouth would be. As Mark was about to tell himself that it was okay, it was just a mannequin, the black line bowed upward in a small smile.

   Mark turned and ran.