vincentstory

F A N F I C T I O N : F A N A R T : T H E G R E E K F A N S I T E F O R T H E G R E A T E S T V.G. S E R I E S O F A L L T I M E S

VINCENT'S STORY
by Peter Jung

Sometimes one has too much on his mind and too little time to deal with it.
When such happens, it is often a good idea to simply put one’s ideas down on
paper, to help organize one’s thought. I used to write a lot, and keep a
journal. It helped me think and stay on top of everything.

Ahh, those were good memories. Back in college, when I was a psych major
with dreams of being a clinical psychologist. Now… Well, let’s not get ahead
of ourselves.

My name is Vincent. I was named after Saint Vincent, as my father was
catholic. My mom, on the other hand, was agnostic, but the two seemed to
love each other very much. Such fascinating loves are rarely meant to last,
as when I was five, my dad got in a car wreck and died shortly after.

So I was left with my mom. I didn’t understand why dad had left. The concept
of death and mortality were still beyond my small mind at the time, and the
news that he was now not breathing, in the ground, with a large chunk of his
torso missing brought me to a new level of awareness that no 5 year old
should ever have to deal with. I was shocked, angry, and depressed. I think
my mom was too, but I couldn’t tell. She held it in, and did everything she
could to make enough money to make a living. Even so, we had to move into an
apartment in North Ashfield, not far from Silent Hill.

A year later we had more or less recovered. My mom had finished her R.N. and
I was in school. I was always the quiet kid who most of the other kids
ignored, but that changed in middle school. I became very interested in the
human mind, and how to manipulate people. Even though I was one of the
shortest kids in the school, I often managed to force the big bullies to
give me their lunch money. I still got picked on a lot, but more often than
not, those who gave me any trouble ended up getting expelled. I knew a lot
of them would go home only to have their drunkard dads beat them up, but I
didn’t care. Nobody messed with me.

My mom grew to do fairly well in that period, usually working odd shifts to
work around my school schedule. We grew very close, and she did everything
she could to be the best mother she could be. I guess you could call me a
momma’s boy if you wanted, as we were very close. We had to be.

High school came and went very quickly, and I gradually became quite
popular, despite the fact that I never conformed to anything. Hell, it was
that I didn’t conform that made me popular. I managed to get great grades
while rarely doing homework or studying, I drew occult symbols all over the
school, and I could make anybody do my bidding. In this time, my interest in
psychology became renewed, and I took a few classes in it over the summer at
Ashfield College. I also gained an interest in the Occult, and I learned a
little bit about it, although not enough to consider myself a real fan.
After a good amount of private research, I found out about a small cult in
Silent Hill, but I couldn’t find anymore.

High school ended early, as I soon got bored and took my G.E.D, passing
easily. Ashfield College accepted me and I became a full time student,
working part time waiting tables at a rather shoddy breakfast house. It
sucked, but at least I had money. Scholarships, my mom, and the job all
managed to bring in enough cash for me to get my degree, and through clever
manipulation of various unmentionables, I was able to bring in even more
money.

So that’s where I was. I wrote a lot and kept a journal. I had friends,
partied, and crammed for finals, finding out ways to fit in quite normally
even though I was a lot younger than most of the people around me. College
life was great, and I was going to be a psychology major then go on to get
my PhD and become a clinical psychologist. That way I could manipulate
people to the full extent of manipulation, then make them think it’s part of
the healing process. With these thoughts in my head, I proceeded to take
every psychology course I could, and was very close to getting a degree.

My Mom had begun working at a Hospital in Silent Hill under a Dr. Michael
Kaufmann, the hospital director. I had met him once at a New Years party,
and he seemed like a rather arrogant prick. Still, he rode an old Harley
Davison, so I have to give him credit for that. All was going well with her,
aside from long hours and the occasional strange rumor about things that
happened with the other nurses, and a creature in the basement room. Then
one night, my mom told me everything.

Dr. Kaufmann had been forcing nurses to take care of some girl in a basement
room who was connected with the cult. He usually kept the nurses under his
thumb with drugs, but somehow my mom had managed to stay sober. The only
problem was, she was next on the list to watch after the girl in the
basement room.

I was in shock. I had no idea something so… Evil… was going on. Even though,
I made the mistake of letting her go to work.

Within the next week, I was standing next to her grave, tears staining my
glasses. I stayed there for two days, feeling my mind degenerate. My mother,
my precious mother, was gone. She had been there with me all along, but now
she was dead. I was alone.

Soon, however, my thoughts turned to revenge. I knew Kaufmann was to blame
for this. I knew it was him and the damn cult. They would all pay, and I
planned a horrible revenge. I would find out what I could about the cult,
Kaufmann, and everything about it, expose them all, but only after killing
Kaufmann myself, in the most horrible way I could imagine.

So I went to Silent Hill, and asked around a bit. One of the abilities that
I prize myself on is the ability to manipulate my demeanor, allowing myself
to appear trustworthy and innocent to sleazy and cruel. In Silent Hill, this
ability seemed to be enhanced somehow, and I gained more and more
information on the cult, Kaufmann, and everything in between. I learned that
Kaufmann was connected to a cultist named Dahlia, and the two worked
together to sell drugs. Kaufmann kept a strange girl in a basement who was
somehow important to the cult, possibly Dahlia’s daughter. I resolved that
not only would I kill Kaufmann, I would kill this creature kept in the
basement, and just for good measure, take out Dahlia too. Revenge would be
mine. I put my plan in action by giving what tips I could find to the police
on how to crack down on the drug trade, but they were mostly useless. Even
so, I feel it make Kaufmann uncomfortable, a sort of precursor to his
demise.

I did a bit more research, and found out there was a journalist with a fair
amount of knowledge about Silent Hill living in Ashfield by the name of
Joseph Schreiber. I went back to Ashfield, and stayed at his place for a
bit, looking through articles on Silent Hill, but didn’t find any
information on Kaufmann. Even so, he had a wealth of information on Silent
Hill’s history, and gave me a fair amount of information that I would later
use to solidify my position in that town.

I finished my research there, and returned to Silent Hill, only to find the
road blocked, and snow on the ground. In July! Well, I was unable to go any
further, so I returned to Ashfield. Eventually the strange occurrences in
Silent Hill cleared up, and I came back, only to find out that not only was
Dahlia dead, but Kaufmann was nowhere to be seen, presumed dead. I spent a
month trying to hunt him down, but from what I could tell, he must have been
killed in the aftermath of whatever happened there.

I gave up, defeated and angry. Kaufmann was dead, yes, but that wouldn’t
bring my mother back. This feeling of loneliness consumed me, and I began to
feel myself go insane. So, I thrust myself into my studies, and two years
later got my degree in psychology. Still, my dreams of becoming a clinical
psychologist were dead, along with most of my hope. I became idle, bored,
and cynical until one fateful day, I returned to Silent Hill.

Silent Hill isn’t a great town. Rather, it’s boring, foggy, and has a nice
lake. It was stolen from Indians in the 1800s. It has an amusement park for
tourists, but that’s about it.

Under this fa?ade is an unholy ground that houses the dark angel Samael and
a twisted cult. This cult is divided into several divisions, including the
cult of the Holy Mother, Valtiel, Samael, and Xuchilbara. These various
divisions range in power and members, some with just one member and others
with active followings. Even so, all of these cults worship the same power,
and the result is horrifying. There are blood rituals, visions of evil and
the void, and death. There are things out there that man should never see,
and with the cult of Silent Hill, it is not only seen, it is studied and
worshipped. After five years of watching and waiting, I became part of that
cult.

I don’t know exactly what drove me to the sect of Holy Mother, but I suppose
it was my need for a sort of maternal love, and I found a sense of maternity
in the holy mother. I also managed to bring in the Valtiel sect, and for a
while, even though I was simply a low ranking cultist, I had manipulated the
various sects to form an unsteady alliance. This, more than anything, slowly
but surely lifted me to a position of power.

I became know as Father Vincent, and while I worked for the cult, I forgot
about revenge and the hatred. This was so much deeper, but by the same
token, my position in the cult was revenge. I slowly began to eat away at
the cult’s funds for my own hedonistic pleasures, drugs, prostitutes,
whatever I wanted. I know the cult is aware of this to some extent, but
since I not only united the sects, but recently built a secret temple, they
are powerless to stop me while I reap the benefits of my position. They all
respect and fear me, knowing full well that I control the cult.

Even so, recently I became aware of another cult member who had stayed in
the dark for a while after I took over. Her name is Claudia Wolf, and her
father is Leonard Wolf, a cultist who I recently had placed in a psych ward
for trying to attack me. The thing is, I knew Leonard and Claudia since I
was a little kid, as Claudia is my second cousin. I had seen her and her
father at family reunions on and off, but one thing I do remember is
Leonard. He was horrible to her, always beating her up when nobody was
around, turning her to tears. I was powerless to stop this, as Leonard was a
big man, but even so, sending him to the psych ward proved very rewarding.
Claudia came out of the dark, and became a very powerful ally of sorts.

Even so, I soon became aware that her delusions, rather, her powers, are
more than I am willing to accept. While I have only seen glimpses of the
void and Samael as a result of hours of prayer and blood rituals, she seems
to be possessed every other day. Her entire personality has changed, and she
can do things I can’t even begin to comprehend.

She also knows what happened to Kaufmann, that long time ago. It’s been 14
or so years since that horrible night… And now, look where I am. Back then I
was a bewildered kid, and now… I control the cult that Kaufmann had his
hands in. Now, however, I am pleased to know that he is still around, but
not necessarily alive. His essence is trapped within the town, and he will
forever be cursed to wander as a sort of crippled spirit. Kaufmann shot
dahlia before his demise, and the girl, Alessa, also called the mother of
god, vanished. While I don’t know where she is, I plan to finish what I
planned earlier, and avenge my mother.

Just desserts.

That leads me to the now. I’m sitting on my couch at my apartment with a pad
and pen, writing this. I took today off, seeing as working at the temple
with all of it’s rituals and sacrifices is taking it’s toll on me. What is
even more disturbing is I feel this town getting to my mind. I cannot think
nearly as normally as I used to, and my thoughts oft stray into tangents
that lead only to darkness and unspeakable evil. My physical appearance has
changed; where I was once a skinny happy looking kid with glasses and short
brown hair, I have changed into a sort of leering psychopath. My hair has
become unruly, my eyes have changed colors and don’t connect right, and my
left pupil always looks different than the right. My skin is stained with
something evil, and I always seem to have acne popping up. My teeth are
rotting, and my nails are beginning to loosen. Perhaps it is a lack of sleep
that has caused this awful change in me, but I feel it is more of a physical
manifestation of the evil I work with on a daily basis. Some part of me
wants to get the hell out of this town and go back to waiting tables, or
just retire in the Bahamas, but I simply can’t leave. I don’t know how to
explain it, but something is keeping me here. Perhaps it is my fascination
with the void and Samael, but I have this unnerving feeling that this will
be the end of me, especially with Claudia talking about the birth of God all
the sudden.

I almost feel that her powers, or delusions, sometimes they are impossible
to tell apart, are becoming dangerous. In some ways, I wish she were gone,
but I couldn’t do this job without her. She is necessary, and she knows
that. Still, someday I will find someone with powers like hers, who can be
easily manipulated into doing whatever I want. Then I’ll have a fighting
chance.

In any scenario, I have to go meet with one of the sisters today. She had
something to tell me, and said it was very important, pertaining to the
Alessa and Claudia. I guess I might write about it more later, but for now,
I’ve written enough.

Courtesy of Peter Jung (germboy) e-mail@: germboy@gmail.com