No, I do not own Resident Evil, Parasite Eve, or Tomb Raider
No, I do not own Resident Evil, Parasite Eve,
or Tomb Raider. I just thought it would be cool if Aya
disappeared, the S.T.A.R.S. called in Lara Croft to help them
find her, and they went through a version of all 3 games. Oh,
well, death, destruction, and gore are abundant in this fic. But
you probably knew that, didn't you?
P.S. I named it this because Aya hasn't
been able to forget Eve or what she did, soI'll leave
it up to you.
Ghost in the Shell
~*~*~*~*~
By Holybear
Steve Burnside was tired. Not even tired,
exhausted. It was nights like these that made him want to
completely quit helping Claire and the S.T.A.R.S. But he did
anyway, probably because of Claire and Claire alone.
Oh, sure, he'd seen the nasty looks that
Leon Kennedy gave him, the ones that were disapproving and cruel
at the same time. Whenever Leon looked at him like that, it made
Steve think that he was unwelcome. Maybe he was. Maybe he was too
blind to see it.
Sighing angrily, Steve flipped on the TV, eager
to get his mind off that painful topic. Shit. There was nothing
on except the 12:00 news. He shrugged and turned the volume up.
"FBI agent Aya Brea went missing
last night from her home in Los Angeles, California. A special
agent for the FBI, Brea worked in the L.A. division of
Mitochondrion Investigation and Suppression Team, better known as
MIST, and was generally popular among her fellow agents. Her
disappearance was reported by agent Pierce Carradine and private
detective Kyle Madigan, both good friends of Brea."
Steve frowned, studying the woman's
picture. She was very attractive, with pale blond hair in a short
jagged cut, delicately chiseled features, and deep blue eyes.
Despite her pixie appearance, she wore an expression that made
her look as if she were somewhere else. Still, if you looked at
her profile, she looked something like their own Jill
Valentine
Creak.
Looking up sharply, Steve reached for his
Beretta, eyes trained on his bedroom door. He crawled off the bed
and sneaked out into the dark hallway.
"the Los Angeles branch of the
Special Tactics and Rescue Squad, or S.T.A.R.S., have already
sent out a call to the branch in Raccoon City, Nebraska. That
branch has had much experience with this type of case, and the
L.A. S.T.A.R.S. are waiting for Raccoon's answer."
Steve jumped, startled both by the TV's sudden noise and the
announcement. Why didn't they tell me? Oh, wait. Chris
and the rest were suspended. Creeping down the hall, Steve
strained to hear any other sounds.
Creak.
Steve snapped the Beretta up, ready to fire.
Suddenly he heard a violent screech, similar to those of a
Hunter, and something sprang towards him.
It was hideous, with beige or tan skin and
Hunter-like legs. It waved its short yet lethal-looking arms at
him, screeching once again. Turning its dark, sunken eyes on him,
Steve could see the rest of its head. Its skull looked like
someone had grabbed the back and stretched, creating a perfectly
smooth oval-shaped cranium. Its mouth was wide, nearly splitting
the face into two. Steve caught the scent of rotting meat and saw
the glint of teeth in its nasty little mouth.
Firing desperately, Steve leapt backwards,
struggling not to shriek himself. The thing made an odd gurgling
sound and jumped, sinking its claws into Steve's throat.
With a hideous vocalization like a giggle, it tore upward,
ripping out Steve's throat. It swallowed the soft, pliable
flesh, then turned its eyes onto Steve's. It almost
smiled—then grabbed his face and tore upward once again.
"if you or someone you know has any
information about Aya Brea, please call the number at the bottom
of your screen."
