People are dying, but it isn't like before. I don't feel the same mortal fear, even though he is here. In fact, I feel slightly more... present than recently. I can form coherent thoughts, which, seeing my previous state, is a large improvement.

I don't exactly know where here is... I seem to be in 302 sometimes, other times... I'm somewhere else...

...

Where is Henry? I thought... What happened...?

My head is beginning to hurt. I'll write more later.

-J.

Henry... I'm always watching...

What am I saying...?

I'm in room 302... Sometimes. Other times I'm here... I can see my shadow but I can't see myself in reflections... In 302 I can see myself just fine... but not here...

What is going on...?

I need to find help... Find a way to get out of 302...

I think I'm going blind... My head hurts...

I hope Eileen is okay... I'm going to go through the hole in my bathroom again. I hope this gets through. Thinking about Eileen helps me focus... I've been worried about her, she has no idea any of this is happening. I still am not sure if I'm crazy or not. But in any case, I need to find out how to get out of 302, and find my real self.

What happened back there? I remember... It was coming out of the wall... And then... Nothing.

Henry...

-J.

I feel like I've been asleep for a long time. I guess I vanished for a while. Is that possible? I don't know anything anymore. My head hurts... It's just like before.

Reading the other blogs, people are getting killed. I don't know if it's Walter Sullivan, but I know he's here.

I'm afraid... But it's not like before.

Where am I?

I can't see...

-J.

I guess in an attempt to solidify my memory, I'll write a bit about myself... At least, myself before... that.

My name is Joseph Schreiber. I'm 39 years old, single- divorced. No kids. I'm tall, sort of looming at times. I shave my head every now and then. I am a very active journalist for Concorde, focusing on local news and human interest pieces. I like fishing and reading, and I have a pretty extensive collection of books and magazines. I don't own a TV- TV journalism is worthless. I'm a little bit of a luddite, as I keep my typewriter that lasted me through college with me, but I have an old laptop that I use for most of my editorial pieces.

I live in room 302 of South Ashfield Heights, a cozy apartment complex. Recently, I've started doing research on the Walter Sullivan case, a case that I started following after I did my piece on Wish House, after one of the people I interviewed was murdered by Walter Sullivan. Recently there's been a copycat killer, using the same MO. Police think it's a copycat, at least- my theory is that the Walter 'copycat' is actually Walter himself, and that the original Walter Sullivan the police caught wasn't the real guy.

-

That was me, at least before what happened in 302. I became locked in, and then everything went to hell. I started having Migraines, and pretty soon it was apparent that I wasn't going to be able to get out- Walter Sullivan was still alive, at least... Partially alive. He was inhabiting 302, possessing it. He locked me in and left me to die, but before I did, I explored his subconscious the best I could- It was the only thing I could do. Holes started appearing in the walls, big enough for me to crawl through. They led to various places in his memory, but they were all distorted and evil. However, I slowly began to gain hope as I found ways to fight against his influence, but in the end, the exposure and starvation killed me. I was just his toy.

But I left notes for the next occupant, and never really left 302. While I was dead, I wasn't fully dead- I was part of the apartment, a ghost if you will, a seed within the monstrous entity that was Walter, and I was able to maintain a presence in 302 through him.

Whether or not I have freewill or if Walter is just willing me to exist I do not know, perhaps some element of guilt or an inability to be rid of me, as I am part of 302 and thus his delusion of his mother. I do think the true Walter was corrupted by something- he had a human side, and seemed to be prone to emotional instability. However, the thing he is now is inhuman, a product of the cult's power, the cult's gods.

I can't help but feel that this was my punishment for shutting down that orphanage, but I stand by my article. The world needed to know what sickness was brewing in that horrific place, and I showed them the real truth, the tangible truth, not some sick distorted religion.

Anyway, what's happened to me now, I don't know. I'm sitting in an abandoned building with my laptop getting a very weak wifi signal, getting a distinct feeling like I've been ejected from 302, at least for the time being.

I don't know about my safety, though. Walter has reemerged, but so has Henry. It doesn't make sense that they are both alive. Also, there's been the emergence of a few of the cult's clergy, who I am hesitant to trust, to say the least. Their value system created an abusive orphanage that used state money to create cultists and a serial killer, all for a dogma that doesn't make sense.

Given the history of Silent Hill, though, I think the bad karma there just needs something to latch onto, and with that cult... Well, any port in a storm. I've read their dogma a bit and met their priests, and it's as goofy as any other cult, but for some reason, this one packs a punch. It can't be real... But it is.

Anyway, there's not a lot I can do right now. I need to figure out what happened to me, and I doubt asking my killer directly is such a good idea, unless I want a clip emptied into my face.

-J.

My headaches have localized into migraines between binges of taking more and more pain pills and trying to drink the pain away. The pain seems to localize in my forehead, then radiate throughout my skull and face. Sometimes I go blind, other times I just see red flashing.

But lately, I've been having some really unpleasant nightmares along with it. I don't know how to take this, I'll figure something out anyhow. I think it's got something to do with 302.

I really would rather not go back to that. It's that cult, Silent Hill, 302, Walter Sullivan...

Henry... Kill...

What am I saying?

-J.

Checked out 302. I managed to get into the door before I decided it'd be a good idea to leave- the smell was overpowering, and the migraine was breaking through the firewall of pain killers I had set up for it. But hey, it's empty, but not in good shape.

Did someone die in there?

They did, didn't they?

Dammit.

-J.

I've been studying the archives in the library for all sorts of information on symbolism and the occult, when I noticed, Stanley and Lobsel Vith are nowhere to be seen.

It is a bit quieter without them. But still, I need some help with my headaches, they're only getting stronger, when she was around the pain wasn't as bad, but it's just gotten significantly worse. I keep on having nightmares about 302 as well. It's like I'm going back to the way I was... Furthermore, I want back into 302, although I imagine Walter is still guarding it with his power. I tried to walk near it earlier, and I had to go back and nurse a migraine that had me down for the rest of the day.

And Henry... He's back.

Just what the hell is going on?

-J.

I've been locked up, writing, and I finally got to a block, I need more information.

If anyone has information concerning the events of Silent Hill between the years 1950 to the present, please visit me. I'm staying in Lobsel Vith's home.

-J.

I guess there are more absurd things.

I've kept my laptop closed for a while, and resorted to writing with a typewriter I was lucky enough to obtain at a reasonable price. In the mean time, the migraines are now headaches, chronic, but not alarming. I guess she does have a knack for these things.

It is nice to shut in for a while, get away from this crazy hell. Still, I come out, and... Singing.

Back to click clacking away.

-J.

Well, nobody can say I didn't try.

I decided to give up on everything I had here, which amounted to a park bench, as a psychotic serial killer who murdered me and turned me into a haunted memory stole my apartment, killed the guy who lived there after me, and caused a great deal of chaos.

Frankly, I gave up. I walked away from it all. I gathered a bunch of camping supplies, and I decided to test my boundaries. I then walked through forest, swamp, cavern, and swam through a few rivers. After a long time, I got lost, ran out of food, and got very, very, very cold. I believe I may have frozen to death.

I got turned around at some point, and after wandering in the wilderness, I managed to make my way back here, convinced that there is no realistic way out. It's almost like there's an edge, and you just keep walking into infinity, the forest never stops.

I managed to make my way back, by some miracle. I wonder how many others there are out there, poor souls who tried to escape, only to continue to die of exposure in the wilderness.

On my way back, I lost my left boot in a bog, and walked back with a bare foot, and it became infected. Needless to say, I spent a good portion of the time walking with a makeshift crutch and crawling whenever that became too much.

Finally, the noise of the city came back, and I made my way back in. I don't remember much after that, but I do remember some sort of healer, and her.

I was glad to see her again, but she touched me. I did not like to be touched, nor did I have any want to have any sort of help, as I was in a rather delusional state- I had indeed been walking on a partially gangrenous leg for days.

My leg looks better, but I'm still in quite a shape. I've calmed down a bit, but I need to focus on eating better. Does anyone know any care centers where I can recuperate and restore my strength?

Still, I am desolate. There really is no escape from this place.

It is hell.

So, what's the latest news here that I can dig my journalistic little fingers into? A friend and a hard drink would be nice too.

-J

I left.

No reason to stay here, I thought. I brought supplies. Food. A hatchet. Water.

I just walked in one direction, saw how far I could go. The woods... They just seem to keep on going...

No escape

no escape

I... I ran out of food... I tried to scrounge... Back when I was in Ashfield I was into nature and wilderness survival, and I've always been someone who likes to hike... But the further I went, the more impossible it became. I tried to make progress, but I couldn't find a way out...

I... I think I died from exposure one night... It was so cold... And I woke up again, freezing and starving... I am in horrible shape physically... Frostbite, exposure... I'm amazed I'm able to write this...

It's not fair... no escape

no escape

no escape

no escape

help me

-J

I was this close to reverting... But I couldn't. My mind was there, back into that state, where I could only speak those words.

But now... I am turned on beyond belief. What the hell did Lobsel Vith do to me, but I want to fuck every hole of hers, then move onto whoever gets in my way.

Damn you, Walter. My porn was in 302.

-J.

You've done well to make it this far. Let me tell you something about "him," Walter Sullivan... When he was a little boy, he began to believe that my apartment was
actually his birth mother. He decided to "free" her from the stains and corruption of
this world. At the orphanage, he learned of the "21 Sacraments," the only way to
purify her. He then performed the ceremony of the "Holy Assumption" and created
this...twisted world. Now...he's become nothing more than an inhuman killing machine... Well, he's dead now...but he's trying to complete...the
"21 Sacraments." His boyhood desire...to return to the bosom of his birth...has
divided him... Now his child self...has manifested itself in this world... And soon, he is planning to finish his work... The...21...Sacraments... Number 20... "The Mother Reborn"... Eileen Galvin... Number 21... "The Receiver of Wisdom"... Henry Townshend... Even now...it may not be...too late... Follow the...Crimson Tome... Stop him... If not...wherever you run... He will catch you... Find...him... His...true location...It must be nearby... You must kill...him...

You must kill him...

Kill...... Kill...

Kill...... Kill......

Hurry... She's being taken over... She's Number 20... "The Mother Reborn"...The Crimson Tome...

Obey the Crimson Tome...

Kill him... Must...kill...him...

Kill...... Kill......Kill...... Kill...

...

I may be next. I may not.

I am free of Walter, but he's... He's lost it. Henry is dead. I may have hated him for failing Eileen, had some differences, but... He was my friend.

I will avenge you, friend.

-J

I want room 302 back, because it is mine. I am no longer part of it, but I have been freed from it, and of Walter.

Lobsel Vith is amazing in bed. Who knew this cult could be... So... Nice.

This gives me leverage. The beautiful... Eileen Lobsel Vith... I made love fucked to one of the Gods of the cult. It was amazing, she healed me, a heretic. This cult who revels in death, stabbing people, and their psychotic killers, having a god that sleeps with... One who was known as Despair.

You cultists of Xuchilbara... You are pathetic. I think I'll stick with my journalism, and my pretty Eileen Golden God, and not being raped by your red pyramid thing. Enjoy your sick little cult.

And in the mean time, I will bed this God again, and again, and again. I will do things to her that will leave her fully exposed. I will defile your God, and she will love it. I will fuck her brains out on the halo of the sun, and she will give me power, passion. I will be hers, and she will be mine.

You're pathetic. My golden goddess has a power you wouldn't imagine.

-J

Ignore last post.

I want my room back.

I need a base of operations. Walter has locked my room, and is apparently keeping a hostage from the cult. But that room is part of me. And now Walter is trying to keep me out.

I need to stop this. It's giving me horrific migraines. I spent two days nearly unconscious, having disturbing visions from him being inside room 302.

I have to stop this. I have to stop this.

Henry. I need your help.

-J.

You know what? I forgive Walter. I'm ready to put all that, the cult, and all that behind me. I really don't care about the truth anymore, it's old, boring. And you know what? Walter? Take room 302. It's an old crummy place, I'll settle for another apartment. And the cult? They're not all that bad, they just need a second chance. So, fuck all that. I'm gonna go out and live a little.

I'm going to go get shitfaced and get laid now.

-J
((totally cursed.))

My skull is splitting.

I think I'm going blind.



I think I can get back in. If I'm part of the room... I can return to the state I was in, part of the room.

I need to try to destroy it.

Oh god my head
conjurerconjurercoj
help me

I may be going away soon. I have a very bad feeling about what's coming.

I want to say goodbye to some people.

Tia and Snape: I'm thankful to you. Snape, if you care to go into room 302, there's brandy under my bed, in a long green crate. If the possessions ever calm down, you're free to it. Share some with Tia.
The Shinigami: I apologize for my article. It was to get your attention, and I had not researched it sufficiently. I was a man lost in a world I still don't understand.
The Cult: I am sorry for hating you, but... I can never forgive you. I went through hell at the hands of Walter, and that pain is burned into my mind. I guess this is aimed at Walter. You hurt me, and you killed Eileen. The rest of the cult I could care less about, they aren't brainwashing kids anymore. I'm angry that you stabbed Mulder, and I think you need to be stopped or at least change your ways, but Walter... I will never forgive you.
Captain Hawkeye: I tried. If you want a job, get one. These Shinigami are sadly, better than any war surgeon, but if you work hard, make yourself useful and try to be a nice guy, I'm sure they'll let you take some patients. Please try to get along with them.
Stanley: You're a good kid. Get laid.
Mulder: You know what I have planned. We'll talk more later.
Henry: I am disappointed with what you did, but live. Just live.
Tyler: I didn't get to know you, but you've got balls. You're also insane.
Tomoe: Thank you for caring. You're the only one who did.
Herr General: Good luck taking over the city.

I must go now. I have to stay mobile, to finish what I have started.

I will stop this thing.

-J.

Xuchilbara is Valtiel.

This is the same god, that when implanted into the orphan Walter Sullivan, created a insane and unkillable death machine. 21 people mercilessly slaughtered, dozens of others suffering from heart attacks and the like. If this is the true Xuchilbara, then it's over for me.

I've been doing a bit of thinking.

I was killed in the room, and I became part of the memory of the room, because Walter had possessed it. Thus, I became part of Walter's spirit- which was possessed by Xuchilbara/Valtiel it seems. Then, in turn, I came here and was able to disassociate myself from being a part of the room physically, but I doubt I'll ever truly be free. I'm just the memory of Joseph Schreiber, the ghost of him taken physical form. My true body will probably never be found, who knows where it is. I'm just a memory of Walter's, a sentient memory that was able to leech like a parasite onto 302, this unholy shrine to Xuchilbara. The reason I was able to keep on existing was because of Xuchilbara. I was able to appear to Henry and others because of Xuchilbara. Walter- via Xuchilbara's power, possessed the room, and I unwittingly became part of the possession.

Even though I did not serve Walter's purpose. I told Henry to kill him, after all.

And if Xuchilbara is coming, then we are all in very, deep trouble.

Healers, prepare yourself. This could get very ugly.

Me, I don't know what I plan to do. If I'm part of Xuchilbara, then... What does that mean? Can I leech off of his powers? This God could turn this world into a nightmarish reality, warping humans into demons, creating nightmare worlds. It will go after Walter Sullivan, it will use it's executioner, it will be the end to us all.

I'm afraid... I need help. If Xuchilbara comes, he may come for me. But... If he kills me, he hurts himself. He'll be lancing a tick, cutting out a tumor. If I have to go, I might as well take as much of him out with me as possible. Then, kill him. End Xuchilbara. Avenge what happened to me.

-J.