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Silent Hill 4 Snake Ch.1Chapter One
~ Room 302
Snake gasped as he bolted upright, startled awake from the same nightmare again that's plagued him for the past week. He checked himself over to see with there was anything missing on his person before sighing in relief in seeing he wasn't injured in anyway. By now, he should be used to the dream, but it felt so real that he couldn't help but examine himself for injuries each time he woke up. The young man sighed again as he swung his legs off his bed and slipped them into his shoes, faintly aware of the rhythmic thrum of the ceiling fan. Lee shuddered as fragments of his dream resurfaced, shaking his head to get rid of them and ruffling his already messy blonde hair in the process. He blinked the sleep out of his tired green eyes, realizing just now how drained he felt. He hadn't had a decent night's rest since the nightmare occurred and he was rather annoyed by it. One night, just one night of good sleep was all that he was asking. Some of the fragments of the
Silent Hill 4 Snake PrologueThe Adventures of Pyschadelicsnake
Silent Hill 4: The Room
It was two years ago that Lee 'Snake' Townshed moved into Room 302 of South Ashfield Heights, an apartment building in the medium-sized city of Ashfield. Snake was happy and enjoying his new life. But five days ago, something strange happened. He began to have a recurring dream each night.
One other thing...
He couldn't leave Room 302...
He groaned softly as he opened his eyes, disoriented for the moment. He blinked at the ceiling and the ceiling fan, confused. Both were stained a rusty red. Strange... he thought as he turned to glance at his floor and tiny closet. He blinked again, staring at the color. The carpet was dirted with dried blood beyond salvaging it. The closet itself was smeared with dried liquid and rusting. The man pushed himself off the bed and looked around his bed room, disturbed by its bizarre coloring. "Jesus... these are the walls and shit? What th
Stranger LoveI am not the sunlit wing-print
splayed out on the bedroom wall.
I am not the dark mass forming
in a corner of an airless hall.
I am not the viscous vengeance
where you sink your spinning wheels.
I am not the leaky bucket
hung up on your wishing well.
You are not my soul mate missing
wandering a winter's night.
You are not the sound of angels
singing by a candle's light.
You are not the rasp of fingers
fumbling with a hasp of steel.
You are not the tattered towel
soaking up the things I feel.
I am the oblivious child,
dancing where the wildflowers are.
You are my unwitting captive
lighting up a jelly jar.
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Bluefley has a gallery filled with artwork that whisks you off in to a Sci-fi daydream, and keeps you captivated for hours. Marc has been a member of our community for over a decade and has achieved nothing but success with his astounding commitment to interacting with the community, sharing a prolific amount of video tutorials and generally being an all round rockstar deviant. It is no joke that we are absolutely delighted to award the Deviousness Award for April 2014 to ... Read More