James trudges through the oppressive fog of Silent Hill, each step echoing in the eerie silence. He casts a weary glance over his shoulder, his senses heightened. Not too far behind, the battered and bloodied form of a Lying Figure lies motionless, an unpleasant reminder of his recent struggle. Clutching his makeshift weapon—a wooden plank with nails jutting out the end of it—he feels the weight of unease settle on his shoulders.