(no subject)
Henry opened his eyes to a thick layer of dust upon a cold blanket of asphalt. It was an odd feeling, really, but as he pushed himself up onto his knees, the horrible sense of deja-vu hit his system and he slowly placed his dust-covered hands to his face. Breathing in, he could smell the unique scent of the area; it was a blank sort of smell, but seemed rich of mold and kindling.
At least it didn't smell like rot and decay; that was a more optimistic sign than everything else he had experienced thus far.
Lifting his hands from his face, Townshend tilted his head to the side. Behind him was a thick blanket of fog, but he could see something beyond it. It was a body of water and from what he could sense. The air hung heavy with the smell of salt and other "beach" smells, so he devised that it had to either be a section of the ocean or some sort of brackish river that ran towards the ocean. The only other clue that lead Henry to the assumption that it was salt water rather than fresh were the sails that stuck from the fog in front of him.
But all that didn't matter. He knew that taking things at face value was a horrible mistake. Deciding to leave the harbor, Henry traveled north, towards the "main road", or what was left of it. Most of the gravel was cracked and there were chunks piled up on sidewalks. Plenty of holes also littered the ground, and Henry did his best to dodge them.
He had had enough of holes to last him a lifetime.
Continuing down the road, Henry watched the closed and condemned buildings pass him by. The town seemed completely abandoned, and for a second, he thought he had traveled into the town of Silent Hill. But as more things came into view, he realized it wasn't the old town at all; there were too many industries in town, too many older vehicles left on the side of the road, and far too much debris littering the streets.
"So where am I?" Henry questioned as he leaped over another chunk of road debris. The place he was seemed like a wreck and nothing about it was "familiar" like his nightmares had been with the Walter Sullivan saga. It was like he had been taken to a whole other world. But soon his questions were given answers as another building came into view. Henry squinted through the thick haze of fog to read the sign on the top of the building.
'Wednesburgh Police Department.'
He breathed a sigh, almost of relief. Of course, he knew the place probably wouldn't be a completely safe area, but perhaps he could dig up some answers. It was worth a shot.
So, with his axe out, Henry Townshend waltzed up to the door of the police station and slowly pushed it open with his hand.