"Where's my mommy?"
Sobbing, the little girl pleaded, "Please don't take my mom away. She's all I've got."
Sharon bravely stepped forward, asking about her foster mother, Rose.
"As long as you behave and do what I say, your mommy will be back with you soon."
"Are you a bad guy?"
"Oh, sweet kid, haven't you read any fairy tales? Do I look like a bad guy to you?"
Barry said this with a grin, throwing in some exaggerated gestures for effect.
"In the fairy tales Mommy tells me, the Scarecrow is a really bad guy. He's got no brain, so he goes around eating people's brains."
Sharon stole a quick glance at Barry, her eyes darting away nervously as she spoke.
"Kid, that's not me."
"How could I be the bad guy from your story? That so-called Scarecrow sounds more like a zombie to me!"
"Trust me, you must've heard a knockoff version of the story."
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Barry gently comforted the scared little girl, assuring her that if she stayed put, listened, and didn't wander off, he'd take her to see her mom tomorrow. He also warned Sharon that there were man-eating monsters outside, and if she ran off, she might never see her mom again.
Outside the window, monsters were gathering like moths drawn to a flame.
Spotting the inhuman creatures, Sharon ducked back under the counter in fear.
Barry blew out the candle and told Sharon to stay hidden and quiet—there were too many weirdos out there.
"Now, Uncle Barry's gotta go fight some monsters."
He stepped outside.
Barry locked the door behind him.
With a few swift punches and kicks, he took down a couple of faceless monsters that had crept up to the shop, dragging them by their feet away from the building.
Once he was about ten yards out, Barry snapped, "What, are you blind? Can't you see Uncle Barry's busy? Go play in the mud somewhere else!"
Without the candle's light to draw them and after taking a beating, the faceless monsters scattered, aimlessly wandering the town.
After a while, making sure the creatures were long gone, Barry returned to the shop.
He'd gone from the Otherworld to the real world and back again—a round trip that took about half a day.
Meanwhile, Rose's journey through Silent Hill was moving forward.
After finding a clue in a bathroom, she ran into a swarm of giant bugs. While fleeing, she bumped into Pyramid Head.
In despair, she collapsed.
Just as the bugs were about to overwhelm her, a policewoman named Cybil showed up and pulled her to safety.
Later, the two narrowly escaped and made their way to a grand hotel, where they ran into Anna, who was out "hunting."
Since Barry had hidden Sharon, Dahlia never found her, and without a food shortage, they didn't cross paths with Anna this time.
The trio faced no major trouble as they cut through a portrait, revealing a hidden room—the place where Alessa had once been judged.
Seeing the true face of Alessa, who'd been guiding her all along, left Rose stunned.
But before they could talk much, an air raid siren blared, and the group headed to a church for shelter.
After safely weathering the Otherworld's time, Rose insisted on finding her daughter.
Christabella gave her a ride and pointed her toward where Alessa's true form was.
Unfortunately, along the way, Christabella—whose hands weren't exactly clean—swiped a locket Rose had accidentally dropped, which held a photo of her daughter.
Just before Rose set off, Christabella intended to return the stolen item. But when she saw the photo of the person Rose was searching for, she froze.
It was Alessa's face!
Christabella lost it. "Well, I'll be damned—another one of that demon's evil minions!"
This wasn't just some outsider. This called for serious action—maybe even a barbecue.
"Witch! Her daughter's a spawn of evil! Grab her—don't let her go down there!"
Her words shattered the peaceful vibe, turning things tense in an instant.
The congregation below was stunned, then grabbed their weapons and approached with bad intentions.
Cybil stepped in front of Rose, shielding her, and quickly ushered her into an elevator.
With her baton, Cybil struck fast and hard, taking down a few cult members in a flash.
One swing cracked a skull, and an unlucky cultist hit the ground, out cold.
But a baton could only do so much. The other three cultists got back up.
Cybil pulled out the classic American weapon—a gun.
With the barrel aimed, no one dared make a move. Nobody wanted to bet on whether her gun was loaded.
Bang!
Cybil aimed at Christabella and pulled the trigger.
It nearly scared Christabella to death.
But it was a blank—no bullets.
Now that they knew the gun was empty, the cultists had no fear. Three against one? They had the upper hand.
And sure enough, they did. Cybil had gotten the jump on them earlier, but now she was quickly overpowered.
Within moments, she was beaten to her knees.
Gasping for breath, pain keeping her from moving, Cybil's eyes remained defiant. Not once did she beg for mercy.
Christabella glared, furious. The cultists had stopped their attack, but she wasn't satisfied.
With a single look, she signaled them to keep going, and they hesitated for a moment before swinging their pipes again.
"Christabella! Christabella!"
A faint, eerie call came from the ceiling.
Hearing the strange yet faintly familiar voice, Christabella's blood ran cold.
"Who's there?!"
She looked up, and in that instant, her eyes widened in terror, her body stumbling back until she tripped and fell hard.
What did she see?
A long, crawling monster clung to the ceiling, its head bearing a crude human face, but its body was unnaturally stretched.
Three pairs of thin, spindly limbs gripped the ceiling, its bamboo-like frame sporting what looked like a spine and ribs. A neck, stretched over three feet long, held an upside-down human head that stared with an eerie gaze.
"Run! Everybody, get back—it's a monster!"
The cultists looked up, and the sight alone sent chills down their spines. Their first instinct? Run!
Hiss!
The creature suddenly opened its jagged, saw-like mouth, letting out a bizarre roar—a prelude to an attack.
Without hesitation, they abandoned Cybil, scrambling toward the door, dragging their beloved bishop with them.
Clang!
A pipe dropped to the floor, accompanied by a scream of pure terror.
"No! Get away—let me go, let me go!"
The monster reared up, its long limbs hooking like scythes. The human-faced stick insect snapped its arms together, catching the slowest cultist in a chaotic arc.
Glancing back, Christabella bolted, speeding up alongside the others without looking back.
Behind them, the lone cultist left behind watched his companions flee in despair.
"Help me! Save me…"
He kept shouting, but seconds later, his cries cut off.
The monster's limbs were impossibly flexible, wrapping the cultist like tough noodles, strangling his throat.
Christabella and the others vanished around a corner, gone from sight.
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