She drew closer, her cold breath touching his skin. For a moment, it seemed that there was something human in this closeness, a promise of relief from the nightmare. He allowed himself to take a step toward her—and everything around him disappeared except for her curves and muffled moans.

But in the next moment, the illusion shattered. Her hands, which had seemed soft, closed around his body with an iron grip. A hoarse growl, more like an animal's roar, escaped from under the bandages, and rusty metal flashed in her hand. Tenderness was followed by a sharp blow. Then another. Each swing of the pipe was like a sentence. Temptation turned into punishment. What began as supposed comfort became an act of vengeance. And in this scene, Silent Hill reminded us once again: any desire here turns into an instrument of torment.