Deacon found nothing in the abandoned cars, which was a shame really. There had been the stress relief of breaking something, but that was short lived. He felt the pull, the call of the town. He had felt it for a while now, but being so close made the pull all the greater. The woods themselves were foggy, making him wish again for a flashlight. He sneared at the forrest, and spun the tire iron in his hand. At least it would make a handy club in a pinch. He sighed heavily and started down the path in the woods. He stopped before the fog overtook him and looked back at the other patient. "You coming or what?" It was the closest he would come to handing out an invitation.<br/><br/>He waited, hoping the other fellow would join him. He knew that whatever there was he was suppose to be doing, it was in that town. The theater...that was his destination...the theater in Silent Hill, the one where she had died. He didn't know why, but that is where he was headed.<br/><br/>