Resident Evils 5 and 6, O.R.T.
O.R.T. (Oral Rehydration Therapy), song from Silent Hill: Origins
Okay, so this was inspired by watching Quadraxis14 and Alimunster on YouTube and by hearing someone frustrated by shipping wars suggest "Valenivanfield". So here we have Chris, Piers, and Jill, singing to their squadrons on a slow helicopter ride. Enjoy! -Chris
"Is it lonely where you are...?
In there..."
"Dad?" Chris whispered.
"Does the darkness know your name?
Does Mom?"
Jill's voice was oddly powerful and serene. When you think of her, hear her, you think of someone who commands respect, someone who kicks zombies in the face. She's someone you kind of have to fear. Her voice isn't the picture of music, especially a...sorrowful song like this one.
"What's it like?
Can you feel?
She said her blood turns to ash."
This wasn't exactly a song to cheer anyone up. In fact, it was doubtful that anything could cheer the squad up at a time like this. If you looked out the window, you'd see people's blood literally turning to ash as they were burned and blasted to death by the bombs being rained down on them. Airstrikes like this weren't common, especially double strikes like this. It was the closest to eliminating the majority of the B.O.W.s without going all-out and using a massive missile like Raccoon City. This one was aimed at J'avo, so there would be two strikes, one to kill as many as possible, and the second to destroy any Chrysalids, complete mutations, and surviving J'avo before troops swept in. This was only the first sweep.
Chris came in on the next line, his low, calm voice evoking feelings out of me that I really should have been very ashamed of.
Laughing...
Dad, do you know what you've done this time to me?"
And then the pause came in. I'd be singing soon, too. I looked around me; the entire squad was either solemnly staring at the floor, out the window, or at us. Chris had his eyes closed, leaning back, and Jill's head rested on his shoulder. I wasn't jealous. Not much, anyway.
I took a deep breath, and opened my mouth for the next wave.
"Oh,
Burning eyes can't forgive you
Howling moon drives on
And deep in me
Your illusion
What you see in there is..."
The song took a slow wind down, and I couldn't look up, even though I knew most eyes weren't on me anyway. It was those lines that felt worst to sing, even though melodiously, we were a trio of angels. Luciferian angels, you could say. Burning eyes and all that. I'd think about the sexual implications that could be drawn from this later. The sounds of things being destroyed was awfully loud all of a sudden.
The three of us suddenly sang again as the melody dropped back in, its sad tone reverberating around the helicopter.
"Did you have that dream again?" she sang
"Release...Breathe..." he sang
"You're receiving what you said" I sang
"Said she" she sang
"Never mind
Emptiness, dead eyes have lost what you found" I sang.
The next line didn't even come from any of us three. It came from Marco, our explosives man. His voice was slightly higher, raspier than Chris's. He did a good job of making the lyrics hurt all the more.
"Maybe there on the edge is your hope
But you don't look down
Why?"
I've never heard Marco whisper like that. Another first for today.
The rest of the song was coming, and it was about to end. I didn't want it to. Four and a half minutes meant the airstrike would be over soon, but even so, the sounds of explosions and screaming would be overpowering in those seconds. The song kept it at bay, removing monotony from the mix. As I prepared to sing the last lines, I felt Chris's arm around my waist. I couldn't tell if it was a hug or just a lesser gesture, or even a greater one, but it was nice and I was grateful for it.
"Burning eyes can't forgive you
Howling moon drives on
And deep in me
Your illusion
What you see in there...
Why?"
That was it, the end. The helicopter tilted a little as it prepared to fly off and land somewhere intact and stable.
I sighed as we left the chopper and wobbled onto wet ground. Ash was floating around us...I've always wondered if, with my eyes and all the sniping I do, my eyes might need glasses or contacts when I'm old. I don't think that can happen or will happen, but I've valued my eyesight a lot. Definitely more powerful than my voice, as some of our men tried to contradict when we left the city behind.
When everybody took their respective rides, I joined Chris and Jill in the Jeep. Usually, I drive, but I let Jill do it this time. Chris sat between us, his large frame against our smaller ones. Each of his hands held one of ours.
When we got back to base, I thought about giving Chris a kiss. Just on the cheek, nothing crazy. But that notion went out the window when Jill did just that, and walked off. Another sigh. Oh well, another time, another place, a different opportunity. It'll come up again later.
Chris didn't say anything for a while as we walked back to the chambers. Right before we went to the room, he spoke to me.
"Any other songs you feel like singing next mission, Lieutenant Nivans?"
"Don't know."
"You've got a nice voice. If I can say so."
"Thank you, Captain."
That was the last words before bed. I went off to my room, and he to his. But as I was laying down, I thought about other sings I really might consider singing. They'd be like O.R.T., in more ways than one. They wouldn't try to cheer up the team in such a dismal situation. But they'd take a little of the pain off, a little at a time, just like today. Oral rehydration therapy was a good way to describe the trio that happened today.
I'd never really sang before, not a real song. I might do it again sometime.