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Love Lost pt. 1 (My Shattered Memories fanfic)

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After the Quest for Mary's success, I was suffering from a teeny tiny bit of writer's block. Didn't know what I was going to do next. But I thought about it for a while (along with a quick suggestion from my good buddy Jean) and decided on a Shattered Memories fan-fiction. Many people consider Shattered Memories...well, not a good Silent Hill game, others consider it pretty cool, and I think it is a great way to make a good fan-fiction. So, for all you folks out there who loved TQFM and are hungry for more fan-fictiony goodness, here's my new series: "Love Lost". This is the first part. I worked hard on it and I hope it shows.


The snow pounded down ruthlessly, bashing against Cheryl Heather's windshield as she squinted at the road, trying to make whatever little visibility she had useful. She was 25 and normally kept to herself, quite reserved and shy. Her hair was a deep brunette, her eyes brown and perfectly blending in with it. She kept her hair short, as she figured girls with long hair were too "show-offy" and there were enough of those types of people out there. Much of her clothes were worn and tattered, but she was wearing her best outfit for a special ocassion-visiting the 5th shrink she'd had in 6 months.

Though Cheryl hated the idea of visiting a psychiatrist, her mother, Dahlia Mason, had suggested it. After all, half of Cheryl's day consisted of talking to her..."dad". This had to be strange, seems how Harry had died 18 years ago and everyone knows it's impossible to talk to a dead man. But Cheryl would sit there for hours at a time, speaking to nothing. It worried her mother deeply.

She drove along the road, the windshield wipers endlessly battling the oncoming snow. The lighthouse, where the shrink was patiently waiting to assess her, was close by. Before she entered, she heard her cell phone ring out a pleasant tune, but she cringed when she read the name of the monster that was calling: "Dahlia Mason". Cheryl hated her mother with a vengeance. It was her fault that she and Harry divorced, it had to be.

Nonetheless, she knew she'd have to answer or her mother would clog up her phone with voice messages of "Why didn't you pick up?". So she let out a worried exhale of breath and lifted her phone to her ear.

"...Hi, Dahlia." Cheryl never called her mother "Mom" just to spite her. Dahlia had gotten used to it by now.

"Are you there, honey? With Dr. Kaufmann?" Dahlia's voice called from the phone. She sounded slightly annoyed.

Cheryl shivered due to the snow that was turning her into a living popsicle. "Yeah, I'm about to go in now...Dahlia, are you sure I've gotta do this? I hate visiting-"

"Psychiatrists, I know." Dahlia finished her statement for her. "Look, it's not my fault you're talking to nothing. You've got a problem, Cheryl." Even she realized how cruel that sounded. "Just please...do this for your own good. It's not my choice, it's yours, but I really want you to go through with this."

Cheryl almost retorted back something rude, but she bit back the words before they could leave her lips. She let out a wavering sigh and looked over at the lighthouse once again. "Alright then...I'll do it." Before Dahlia had the chance to say goodbye, Cheryl hung up on her and slowly creaked open the door.

Well, this place is actually alright, she thought to herself. This Kaufmann guy had good taste in decorating. In most shrink's offices, she'd simply find a wooden stool propped down for her and a guy with documents in his hand that looked like he didn't even know about his own problems, let alone hers. But this place was well done! Beautiful paintings hung on the walls, a leather chair waiting for Kaufmann, a leather couch waiting for her. A puny cup of beer waited patiently on the maple-wood table that rested between the couch and chair.

While gazing around at the new environment, Cheryl quickly noted that Kaufmann was not yet in the room. She explored for a little while. She looked at the paintings, amazed at their gorgeous colors. She streaked her fingers along the leathery cushions of the couch and chair. She plopped down on the couch and crossed her legs all lady-like.

And waited.

For a while, this shrink wasn't showing up. Cheryl was getting suspicious. She shrugged and looked around once more before glancing at the beer on the table. "Hmm..." She started to reach out to the gleaming glass cup.

"You drink much?" A man's voice called out from behind her, making her jump. She looked over her shoulder. "Ah, don't worry, you're alright. My name is Dr. Kaufmann. I think we should have a little chat, hm?"

Knowing she had been caught, Cheryl flushed furiously and turned her head away before the man could see her. He was snickering. She mentally shot him the bird.

Sitting down in his cozy leather chair, Cheryl got a good look at this guy's face. He was old, obviously in his 50's, but slightly handsome. His hair was a deep dark grey, but some of it faded into a whiter hue. He flashed her a smile and put an elbow on his knees, the other hand pointing to her. "You must be...Cheryl Heather Mason, am I correct?"

She nodded.

"We understand you've visited many others before me," He stated with a tone of slight irritation while Cheryl nodded once again. "But here, we're different. We go at your pace, whether you're slower than the tortoise or faster than the hare." His fingers met and pieced together, both of his elbows now perfectly balanced on his knees. "No tests. No drugs. We listen to you here, understand the situation."

"...Are you sure?" Cheryl asked, Kaufmann seeming confused that he had heard her voice but then giving a cocky smile.

"Absolutely." Kaufmann's eyes met hers and he took out a small sheet of paper, lined with questions and boxes that held the letters [Y] and [N] in them. He slid it across the table, picking up his beer and taking a small sip, raising his glass to her. "Don't worry, I assure you this is the only paperwork you'll need to fill out, the only test you'll need to take."

Cheryl examined the questions carefully and took her answers into deep consideration as she filled out the test, sliding it back to him slowly.

"You're done?" Kaufmann asked softly while his hand reached for the sheet. Cheryl nodded while he pulled it back.

Kaufmann stood and read her answers to the test, pacing away as he did. "...Hmm, are you sure you don't drink?" He remembered that incident a while ago, and looking back to see her blushing once more, he snickered again. Cheryl honestly thought this guy was a real jerk and that she should get the hell out of there, but she sighed and waited for Kaufmann to return to his seat.

"Alright then..." Kaufmann began, resuming his sitting down. "Why don't you start from the beginning..."


Harry drove down the road while keeping a close eye on his sleeping daughter. He couldn't help but wonder what she was dreaming of as he readjusted his glasses and resumed staring at the road. The snow was intense, and his windshield wipers weren't working. He could barely see a thing.

Suddenly, the car jerked forward, and Henry's head slammed against the dashboard, intense pain growing from his forehead. The car door flew open and as he slowly regained his ability to move, his trembling hand gently clicked the seatbelt buckle. The second he was unbinded, he fell from the car, glasses soaring off his face. "OOF!"

In a daze, his body was shivering as he realized he had fallen into a patch of freezing snow. Looking up to his car, it had plowed right through the fence, tearing it apart with ease. He quickly placed his glasses on to make sure he was seeing everything correctly. Then thoughts of his daughter creeped into his mind. He looked into his car to find nobody.

"Cheryl...CHERYL!" He screamed at the top of his lungs, his bellowing voice screeching through the fog. No little girls came running back. Cheryl had vanished. And he had to find her, here in the town of Silent Hill.


"Station 34B, please answer, over." Cybil called into her walkie-talkie, waiting for a reply as she patrolled the streets. Nobody answered. "Station 34B, do you read me? Over."

"Aw, forget it, Cybil." Mandy groaned lazily as she leaned over on Jean's shoulder, Jean growling and shoving her off. "Ow! ...Why are you so shocked nobody's out here, anyway? The weather is freaking insane, like a girl named Cheryl Heather. Just insane."

"Quiet, Mandy!" Jean scoffed, patting Cybil on the shoulder. "We're out here, aren't we? Don't listen to Mandy. She's a rookie." Jean looked back at Mandy and stuck her tongue out.

"Station 34B, answer me now! Over." Cybil screamed into the walkie-talkie. Still no answer. "Damn it..."

Mandy glared at Jean and sighed. "Rookie or not, I'm starving." Jean nodded in agreement, which was new cause she barely ever agreed with Mandy. Cybil looked out the other side of her car, which was not as viciously attacked by the oncoming blizzard as the front window. Diner 52, coincidentally, was the nearest-by building. She parked her car alongside the sidewalk and beckoned Mandy and Jean to come out.

"Alright then, let's chow." Mandy clapped her hands with excitement while Jean called her a pig.


Part 1 is completed! But the series is WAY WAY WAY WAY too far from over...part 2, anyone?

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