"You… will die… in seven days…"
The eerie, hoarse voice that whispered from the phone was cold enough to chill the soul.
Alan's face, however, lit up with an expression of pure, unadulterated joy. It was as if he'd just received an intimate call from a long-awaited lover, not a death curse from a vengeful spirit.
"Really?" he asked, his voice full of giddy anticipation. "Sadako, is it really you? In that case, can you call me every day for the next few days, just to chat?"
"No…"
"If you don't call me, I'll kill myself by swallowing my own feces, and then you won't be able to have me," Alan threatened, his voice rising with theatrical anger. "Believe it. I certainly do."
"...Fine."
Faced with a threat so uniquely disgusting, Sadako had no choice but to compromise. This was, she had to admit, the first time she had ever encountered someone so… strange. Normally, a person receiving her fateful call would hang up screaming, not bargain excitedly like a lovesick teenager.
"Then it's a date!" Alan declared happily. "Oh, Sadako, please let me be the one to die by your hands."
There was a syrupy, almost romantic quality to his words. For a moment, Sadako was at a loss. She even felt a bizarre flicker of being touched. He's so considerate. If every cursed soul were as reasonable as Alan, her life as a ghost would be much, much smoother.
"Sadako, you have no idea how much I admire you," Alan gushed, now on a roll. "I've watched The Ring at least three times, not to mention all the spin-offs. My favorite is The Mother Sandwich, the one you collaborated on with Kayako. I've been following all your works, from the 3D zone to the pictorials…" He was about to launch into a detailed account of his time on his doctor's computer at Westwood Psychiatric Hospital.
Click…
Sadako decisively hung up the phone. What kind of serious person watches that stuff?
After the call, Alan held up his fists in front of his face.
"Righty, Lefty, listen to my explanation," he said earnestly. "I was just acting. I promise I have no intention of cheating. Besides, you were there with me when we watched all those… educational films."
Having cleared the air with his significant others, Alan unclenched his fists, relieved.
The next day, Alan sat by the landline phone, waiting with the anxious energy of a schoolboy. But from dawn until midnight, the phone remained silent. The betrayal left him so angry that he tossed and turned all night, unable to sleep.
On the third day, as night fell, the phone finally rang.
Alan snatched it up on the first ring. The other end was silent.
"Sadako! Why didn't you call?" he roared, venting a day's worth of frustration. "I waited for you all day yesterday! I didn't dare sleep because I was worried I'd miss your call and you'd think I was toying with your emotions, that you weren't important to me!"
He took a deep breath to calm himself, then his tone shifted to one of grave concern. "I'm on a very dangerous mission. I can't guarantee I'll still be alive to wait for you. I hope you'll cherish every moment we have left."
"...I'm sorry."
"Will you call tomorrow?"
"Yes."
"It's a deal. Good night."
That night, Alan slept like a baby.
On the fourth day, Sadako's call arrived as promised. Alan let it ring a few times before deliberately picking it up.
"Guess who I am?" Sadako's voice was uncharacteristically playful, like a girl flirting with her boyfriend.
Alan paused, then his eyes narrowed, and he shouted into the receiver, "Sadako, you are a vengeful ghost! How can you be so emotional? Where is your professional ethics? If you fall for a few sweet words, will you just let your victims go? What will become of your career as a ghost?"
There was a long silence on the other end. "I understand," Sadako finally responded, her voice returning to its usual grim monotone. "You have three days left."
"I'm glad we had this talk. I hope you stay true to yourself," Alan said with satisfaction.
Click…
On the fifth day, the League of Assassins delivered their equipment, and Oliver pinpointed their target's location. Alan, however, insisted they wait two more days. That night, Sadako called. "You have two days left." Click.
On the sixth day: "You have one day left." Click.
On the seventh day, Sadako didn't call. Today was the day.
Alan walked out of the bathroom, picked up the backpack containing his gear, and a sly grin spread across his face. When he walked out of the motel room, the television that was supposed to be on the cabinet was conspicuously missing. Downstairs, Bruce and Oliver were waiting. Before leaving, Alan extended their lease for one more day.
He was a man of his word. He couldn't let Sadako accidentally kill an unsuspecting new tenant.
***
← Raccoon City | Silent Hill →
At a three-way intersection stood a rusty, forgotten signpost. A single yellow taxi sped down the desolate road toward Silent Hill.
The driver blasted heavy metal, but his three passengers sat in stoic silence. Within fifteen minutes, they arrived before the entrance to the old, abandoned town. As they got out, the setting sun bathed Silent Hill in a sickly yellow light, casting long, desolate shadows.
"Pay up, asshole," the taxi driver grumbled.
Alan casually handed him a banknote. "Keep the change."
The driver snatched the money, spun the car around with a screech of tires, and sped off.
"How much did you give him?" Bruce asked with a hint of malicious amusement.
Alan checked his remaining cash and realized with a jolt that he'd given away another hundred-dollar bill.
Oliver helpfully added, "The fare was thirty-one dollars."
Alan's immediate instinct was to give chase, but the taxi was already a speck in the distance. He clutched his remaining money and said angrily, "Damn it! I'm never taking a taxi again!"
Then maybe don't be so generous, both Bruce and Oliver thought.
"Silent Hill was abandoned years ago after an underground coal fire started," Oliver began, relaying the intelligence he'd gathered. "The fire is impossible to extinguish, and the smoke it releases is toxic."
Bruce added, "Our mission states that the Blade of Redemption was stolen by an evil cult that uses this town as its base of operations. They're extremely secretive. Information is limited."
"I have a question," Alan interjected, not wanting to be left out of the serious discussion. "How did they steal the blade in the first place?"
"It was on loan to a scholar for research. The cult took the opportunity to steal it," Bruce explained, exchanging a weary look with Oliver. Didn't this guy read the mission briefing at all?
"Hey, don't look at me like I'm just some NPC here to fill out the party," Alan said proudly. "Bat, I'm not trying to steal your thunder, but I've actually seen the Silent Hill movie. I know more about this place than you do."
***********
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