From Catastrophism
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| | yBOqWH I do`t regret that spent a few of minutes for reading. Write more often, surely'll come to read something new!... | | yBOqWH I do`t regret that spent a few of minutes for reading. Write more often, surely'll come to read something new!... |
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| - | ==History==
| + | SrRfiB I really enjoy the blog post.Much thanks again. Really Great. |
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| - | '''''(WARNING. CONTAINS SPOILERS. REALLY BIG ONES.)'''''
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| - | Not much is known about the history of Walter Sullivan. What is known is that he was born in an apartment room (302) to two parents who didn't want him, and was abandoned. He was sent to live at Wish House, where he underwent serious physical and psychological trauma. In order to cope, and because he didn't know any better, young Walter (pictured below) formed the bizarre notion that the room that he was born in literally ''was'' his mother. While unhealthy, this kept the boy occupied as he grew up, and eventually led to his interest in the occult. He learned of a ritual that could help him "wake up" his mother, who was quite obviously dormant.
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| - | This got his interest, and he grew more and more disturbed as he entered adolescence. He began taking trips every week to the room in South Ashfield Heights, no matter what the residents and superintendant had to say about it.
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| - | [[image:Baby_Walter.JPG|left|thumb|200px]] Cute little Walter started killing when he was 24 years old, after bouts in Water Prison (a detention facility run by Wish House to keep all the bad little boys in check) and on the streets. He murdered 10 people in 10 days, cutting out their hearts and carving numbers into the bodies--01121, 02121, and so on through 10121. The numerical pattern was overlooked by authorities, but that didn't matter--Walter finished off his victims with his bloody signature cut into their flesh. He was captured and thrown in prison. It didn't last long, however--he killed himself with a soup spoon (hardcore!) and was buried in the Wish House cemetery.
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| - | Again with the short lived. A few days later, Walter (or someone who looked just fucking like him) was seen leaving room 302 back at South Ashfield Heights. Since the apartment tenants hadn't yet deduced that they were screwed, life went on. Three years passed, and bodies started turning up again. Same M.O., same numerical pattern (though it seemed to have skipped a number), continuing with 12121. 12/21. There were 21 intended victims, and apparently now Walter had died and returned from it, something that not a lot of people can brag about. This was a bad thing, especially considering that he was hell-bent on horsewhipping nine more people to death.
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| - | He just wanted his mommy, really. Such a fuss. Someone should have just explained things to him. Calmly. And after hiding all of the spoons.
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| | ==Reasons Walter Kicks Your Ass== | | ==Reasons Walter Kicks Your Ass== |
Revision as of 03:45, 9 March 2012
 Walter, as he commonly appears. |
yBOqWH I do`t regret that spent a few of minutes for reading. Write more often, surely'll come to read something new!...
SrRfiB I really enjoy the blog post.Much thanks again. Really Great.
Reasons Walter Kicks Your Ass
He's constantly bloody, and manages to find amusement in it. 
He kidnapped himself, bitch. 
He always looks ready to party, even after decomposing for a time.
Walter's an all-around creepy guy. Anyone who lurks, stalks, or sneaks around holds a special sort of place in my heart. Plus, the guy wears a blue raincoat. No one can say that isn't scary.
Current Projects
I'm currently working on an in-depth fanfiction after completing Silent Hill 4: The Room. I'm not sure where I'm going with it, but I do know that the storyline I'm creating deviates from the game to the point where it's almost offensive. The fact that Walter is such a compelling character got me thinking about all the terrible little things that I could do to him (as filthy as that sounds), and so I'm extracting him from his sad, sad life and inserting him into a new one. Knowing me, it'll probably end up just as badly for him. Because I'm evil.
I've titled the fiction Humoresque, and it exists only in my physical world in the form of typed (on my 1950's Royal) letters, photographs, maps, and charts.
Yes. In-depth.
Special thanks to Z-O-G.org for the screencaps.
