Note to All: I do not own the fabulous Resident Evil characters, Capcom does. I just get to have fun putting them in... hinky.. situations. Also, this story takes some ideas from Maiafay's 'Dark Ashes of the Phoenix', her writings rock my socks! 'Nuff said. Enough disclaimer, on to the story! ^.^
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Chris Redfield was wary as he approached his intended destination. The ground had grown swampier in increments, the trees had become more overgrown, and the general atmosphere held a fatally ominous edge. Chris had been leery about accepting this assignment; a solo mission to a mansion that was eerily similar to the mansion in the Arklay mountains. But his sister, Claire, had assured him that all would be well.
'It's just a decrepit old mansion, Chris,' She had told him, 'If we thought that there was any real threat, we would've given you a partner.' The trouble was, S.T.A.R.S. 2 had been very shorthanded lately. Leon S. Kennedy was off on a trip to Spain, but had gone missing; and Ada Wong was still double and triple crossing everyone, her current "boss" being whomever would pay the most for her "services".
Chris approached a clearing, only to have his blue rustbucket of a Jeep go nosefirst into a bog. "Damnit! This is not what I needed right now." He grumbled angrily at his Jeep as he tried, in vain, to restart it. "I hate you right now..." He muttered as he grabbed any useful items that he could find before it sank. He then leapt free of the vehicle and began to slowly pick his way to the mansion.
Within a few moments, he came upon a crumbling stone wall that was much too high to scale, and a great rusted gate. He tested the gate, only to find it locked, but a few kicks easily broke its hinges. He traipsed up to the front doors of the mansion, always alert for any threat, to find the doors unlocked. He drew his gun and flashlight, and cautiously entered the grand foyer. The sight took his breath away. Though dark and musty, the foyer was an exact replica of the Arklay facilities; from the typewriter on a table near the stairs, to the moth-eaten red rug on the floor.
"Well, I'll be damned." He murmured. This facility, the Antarctic base, the Island base, and the Arklay mansion had all been designed almost exactly the same. One thing held the forefront of his thoughts: Those crazy Umbrella bastards really needed a new sense of style.
