Silent-Hills

Can a new graver Earth of survival prompt two wandering action-setters to find some sanity in a dark sky environment of Silent Hill touchdowns?

Fanfiction of the eerie/off-putting Silent Hill for a Friday Summer June. 

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JOURNAL: "Look, I can't tell you precisely what happened to our fare riches of old-Earth, but since 9/11, the world was on-edge about invasion aversion for commerce confidence thinking, and the downfall of the World Trade Center was simply the beginning of it all...en-route to the new-Earth way of thinking in which any old ghost-town of survivors and wandering boogeymen and zombies (radiation) could be the graveyard-planet 'capital' of Silent Hill...lots of silent-hills (towns!)...I do remember shopping for wine and things on old-Earth (but it's all)."

Mr. Amlan Satan was right about old-Earth...and the new one inherited by the cataclysm of the stormy-purge of incomplete-distances readings for the sanity of perseverance. The new planet was inhabited by ghost-travelers, huddled settlers, and wandering zombies and profiteers, which is where we find our protagonist prince-hero type, Amlan Satan, who was a wealthy Wall-St. 'good-fellow' and now weapons-collecting town-to-town trekking Romanticism messenger of old-Earth (Facebook-like!).

ESMERELDA: You've a photo of some Euro-wine (bottle), eh?

SATAN: You're beautiful.

ESMERELDA: And you're drunk, Amlan Satan.

SATAN: Too many Silent-Hills, Esmerelda (ok).

ESMERELDA: Thanx for the praises (regardless).

SATAN: Sure...most things now are better-left unsaid.

ESMERELDA: Life's a memoir for a Frankenstein reading (sure).

Amlan and Esmerelda wandered into an abandoned old-Earth faded barn and found a special item, a rustic cannon-gun, with the look of some old war antique value, and it perhaps was owned by a fascinated farmer who didn't make the purge of the storm of the once fare riches Blue Planet of images in good life-transit fiction for the Ego (wow).

Despite the grave-feel of the new-Earth, Esmerelda was bringing some needed joy-wine to the 'mercenary-sense' of Mr. Amlan Satan, who hoped to understand now (deeply) why a new-Earth farm-barn would hold a gun (weapon!) of antique old-Earth fare riches value...for an even magazine hospitality shine for the books/fashion (hmmm).

Esmerelda was a fan of old movies and nice things, and when they decided to camp-out in that barn (making love), soon thereafter, Satan began refurbishing the gun and using his engineering acumen and backpack parts to make it a working machine-gun (damn). They'd need it...soon (damn).

ESMERELDA: Enemy mine?

SATAN: Just let me keep shooting while you taunt the invader-zombies, hon.

ESMERELDA: Life is Hell, Mr. Satan.

SATAN: Not for us...it's just Silent-Hills.

ESMERELDA: Look at that one behemoth specter with two-heads.

SATAN: Ain't nuclear radiation impact far beyond once-joked chemical impact?

ESMERELDA: Well, those damn Koreans added some 'spice' to those missiles.

SATAN: I'll keep firing, and you keep making lyrics for my chest.

ESMERELDA: Boy I loved those old movies (Selfie-like).

The only way our two beloved (prince/princess) 'antiheroes' of this tale of Silent-Hills incomplete-distances readings would make the right roads for sanity and 'confidence' arts would be to continue harnessing/cultivating their brand of new-Earth sensitivity languages, for endurance of the consequences of man's own deep-negligence of matters of the heart. Regardless, the capital of this grave Earth, Silent Hill (the one and only and original!), would still be something Satan (Amlan) would consider a 'leviathan' for simplified devil-worship (for the Ego!).

"Doing well is the result of doing good. That's what capitalism is all about" (Ralph Waldo Emerson). 

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"Money is everything" (Ecclesiastes)