Resonance

A wrong turn leads her to a sleeping town that is not as deserted as it seems. The only way out lies further down a rabbit hole of untold secrets, shifting reality, and waking nightmares.

Psychological horror inspired by the Silent Hill games. Rated for language and disturbing themes.

She blinked at the glowing green numbers on the dashboard of her car. 2:31. No wonder she could barely keep her eyes open. She rolled down the window, took a deep lungful of cool night air, and punched the radio on. The console lit up, but no one was home.

She tried another station. Also dead. A third button press. Blank. She pushed the scan button. The numbers ran the dial, pausing for two channels of particularly loud static but otherwise coming up dry. She turned the radio off, hoping it wasn't going on the fritz. Pennsylvania mountains tended to eat radio waves for breakfast, but even in the most distant armpit of the Appalachians, she could always find one decent signal. It might serve up nothing more compelling than scratchy twanging - or preaching, or possibly both at the same time - but it was there nonetheless.

Did it matter? Ten minutes from now, she'd be tucked into bed and the stupid radio would be long forgotten.

2:53. Still nothing around but the same faded asphalt, the same solid walls of forest.

Must have made a wrong turn.

But where? And how? I've only driven this way half a million times before.

Yeah...when you weren't falling asleep.

She pulled over and turned the car around. It wasn't a huge deal, really. There was exactly one way to go, and she couldn't be that far from the main road.

3:11. The view hadn't changed at all. She couldn't even remember the last point of interest - a sign, a house, a traffic light, whatever - before realizing that she had gotten lost. In more ways than one, it felt as if she'd been driving through the woods all night.

This is crazy. I couldn't have been off the highway for this long. Could I?

Her eyelids drooped. The car veered to the left. She jerked upright and straightened the wheel. After her eyes shut for a good several seconds, she pulled onto the shoulder.

Come on. Get it together. You've got to be almost there by now.

She leaned back and tried to figure out how long almost there really was.

Get up. Do some jumping jacks. Sing your ABC's. Do something.

Even the alphabet was too much for her tired brain to handle, spilling out in a jumble of blocks behind her closed eyes. She started to put them back in order and then realized it was 3:37. Her brief moment of relaxation had turned into a nap.

She rolled up the window, locked the doors, and shut off the engine. Wherever that damn turn was, it wouldn't do much good if she managed to smash up her car or run it into a ditch. Better safe than sorry and all.