You walked the streets of Silent Hill, snow falling around you as you tried to see through the fog. You’ve already been attacked by the monsters, only getting away because of the pipe you held in your hand.

You heard a gasp and footsteps behind you, turning around to see a man in his thirties with slicked back brown hair, carrying a hand gun.

“You’re human,” he said, relieved. “…Have you seen a little girl? Short, black hair? Just turned seven last month?”