Short Story #3
Resident Evil – Escape
By: RanmaChan
He awoke with a start as he once again realized where he was, and the situation he was in. Sleep was so peaceful, especially the deep sleep of the totally exhausted. He wouldn't dream then, or see the carnage of the waking world. He realized why he had woken up, dark acrid smoke was filling the room, being drawn into his lungs as he took shallow breaths. His frail frame shuddered with agony as all the aches and pains of the previous few days came back, unbidden, to his brain.
It was still dark, and the thick smoke filling the room made it harder and harder to see. He knew he had to get up, but he longed so much to keep sleeping, even unto eternity. Something was digging into his back, keeping him from falling back into unconsciousness. It was a Remington Model 1100 shotgun, taken from the corpse of a police officer he had stumbled upon the other day. Luckily he had found a box of shells in the wrecked police cruiser, enough to last him for a good amount of time, he hoped.
He rose unsteadily to his feet coughing from the acrid smoke. His legs shook as he crossed the room to try to find something to eat or drink. As he reached the fridge he realized where he was, a hotel near the edge of town. Opening the mini fridge he conservatively drank the contents of a water bottle, then put two more in one of his pockets. He emptied the box of shells into his other pocket, and walked out of the room. The hotel was on fire, somewhere. Somehow. He didn't care, he just wanted to find a way out of here.
As he walked down the hall he heard knocking and scratching at one of the doors beside him. Finally finding the source he called out: "Hello? Is someone in there? Do you need help?" After a few tense moments he thought he heard crying, so he tried to open it. It was jammed. "Stand back, I am going to shoot the lock!" He yelled as the smoke started to fill the hallway. He leveled the shotgun at the doorknob and pulled the trigger.
The force of the recoil threw the gun back into his shoulder. He thought he had gotten used to it, but he realized he never would. Pushing open the door with his foot he spied a figure laying down on the floor. Rushing over he checked to see who it was. It was a small girl, laying face down. 'Oh no, I shot her, I killed her, what am I going to do?' Thoughts raced through his mind as he paced back and forth across the room. Something was wrong though, there was no blood, and the little girls head seemed to be following him as he paced...
He stopped to look at her, and, it, realized he knew. It jumped up and let out a howl as it ran sluggishly at him. He leveled the shotgun at the zombie, closed his eyes, and pulled the trigger.
He left the room in a rush, and continued down the hallway, down the stairs, and through the front foyer. Everything was smashed or taken, and there was no sign of life anywhere. Smoke was flowing into the foyer now from a number of different rooms and hallways, he knew he would not be able to stay here.
As he was leaving he looked at a security camera, and at his reflection in the lens, what he saw astounded him. His blue shirt was ripped and dirty, splattered with dirt and blood. His medium length black hair was grimy and unwashed, he had been on the move for a few days now. His glasses were cracked and covered in dust and grime, as well as a multitude of fingerprints. Behind the glasses the eyes were foreign, they were still his brown eyes, but they were also the eyes of a haunted stranger.
Why had he ever come here in the first place? He couldn't remember now, as he pushed open the doors and walked out. Here up north, where it was very cold. Oh yeah, he had come here to visit a friend, but beyond that it was all a blur, his mind was focused purely on survival. Remembering the events of the past few days would only make the days ahead unbearable.
He turned and looked back at the hotel. 'Raccoon City Hotel' it said in now dead neon letters as flames escaped the outside from the windows. Soon everything inside would be consumed. He walked for a short time, constantly looking behind him and peering into dark alleys or buildings. It was very quiet, and the silence almost seemed like a weight on his shoulders. There was not a soul in sight. There were no people crowding the sidewalks, or inhabiting the foreboding buildings. Cars stood silent and forlorn where they had been abandoned. The place seemed almost alien to him. As he turned down another street, he heard sporadic gunfire, there were people still alive!
He arrived through a back alley, and saw the conflict from the middle of the battlefield. A massive horde of zombies was making its way down the main road, numbering in the hundreds. They flowed like a river, past wrecked cars and over bodies of their fallen. Down the road were strange soldiers, firing automatic weapons at the zombies, letting nothing escape from the city.
As they finished cutting down the zombies he started to walk closer to them and call out, to let them know he was not a zombie. Now that he was closer he could see that they were wearing gas masks, with eye pieces that glowed red. They were dressed completely in black armor, with a strange symbol on their shoulders and armor. He continued calling out to them, but all he received for his efforts was a volley of bullets from the soldiers. They had opened fire on him!
Luckily he was partially behind a car when they started firing their SMGs. He ducked quickly to avoid the bullets, and was not hit at all. After they stopped firing he made a run for another alley, hoping it would take him outside of the city. Unfortunately a few of the soldiers gave chase.
He ran through the alley, and into another building. Up the stairs he ran as the sound of gunfire followed behind him. Zombies sprang out of the doorway as him, and instead of shooting at them he dodged past them, and pushed them towards the oncoming soldiers. He continued running for his life, hearing the sporadic gunfire grow less and less louder as he moved through the building.
The hallway ended, with only a window at one end, and a dark room to his left. It was a dead end, and footsteps could be heard behind him. It was the last remaining soldier of the group, and he almost seemed to be chuckling as he leveled his gun and prepared to pull the trigger. In the blink of an eye a long spiked appendage flashed out of the dark room to the left. It quickly wrapped around the soldiers neck, and dragged him into the dark room. Horrible crunching noises could be heard, along with the man's shrill death scream, which suddenly cut off at a particularly loud snap.
With sickening grace the monster walked out of the room and towards him. It had once been a man, probably. Its eyes were long gone, and its brain had swelled to horrible proportions. Its toothed maw opened and inside was a extremely long tongue. Its hands were now stubs, with claws and spikes made of mutated bone piercing through the decaying skin.
It let out a screech and prepared to let lose its tongue, when he shot it point blank in the face. The creature dropped to the ground, dead. He carefully walked past the corpse and into the dark room. It took him a while, but he finally located what was left of the soldiers body, and managed to pull it into the hallway. He took the kevlar and put it over his shirt, and took the SMG as well, slinging it over his shoulder, and pocketing the remaining clips.
Using the butt of the shotgun he smashed the window and started to crawl out. Luckily this window had a fire escape, and he unlocked the latch to let the ladder down. He checked to make sure that his escape route was clear before he started his slow and careful descent.
When he finally reached the concrete below he noticed his hands were shaking, that and they were covered with the soldiers blood. Almost breaking down he tried frantically to wipe the blood off and onto any surface he could. When he finally calmed down and started to think rationally he realized his shotgun would almost be empty. Grabbing a few shells from his pocket he reloaded the shotgun as he walked down the road and out of the city.
'Farewell! You are now leaving Racoon City!' Read the sign as he walked past. "Fine by me, I'm finally out of this hellhole." He continued to walk down the road, past dead cars and patches of blood on the road. Fires were burning in the countryside and the forests looked hostile and unwelcoming. He would head south and return home, no matter what.