Author's note: I have been thinking about an AU concerning what might have happened had Wesker been successful at unleashing Uroboros; and a multitude of other 'what ifs' in the RE series. Trying to piece it all together took quite a bit of time, but I hope it worked out. The first chapter is very long, but I wanted to set the tone as best I could. It does contain a couple OCs, one as the main character; but don't worry, the story will have plenty of Wesker and other villains! May be eventual crossover with Left 4 Dead still… debating about that…( growls in frustration)
Disclaimer: I do not own Resident Evil or its affiliated characters. I do own my OCs though.
Kat's StoryThe rainfall was harsh and cold as it relentlessly pounded the lone figure, which sat huddled in the middle of the vast sprawling field. Wind began to howl and swirl around the figure, bringing more chill. But the figure did not care. The ground was soaked and muddy, practically flooding around the person. A distant flash of lightning lit the dismal area, and revealed the figure to be a girl, in her preteens, long black hair wet and disheveled as it hung about her face; masking half her features. Her jeans and long sleeved copper colored shirt were equally soaked. Her tennis shoes had partially vanished beneath the mud and grass. Eyes, the color of amber stared out into the early evening, at the rows of trees that were silhouetted against the deep gray of the sky. The girl had not moved in 3 hrs. Almost numb with cold, she had stopped shivering a while ago. It had been 3 years since an unknown and terrifying virus had been unleashed worldwide. It had turned 70% of the population into frightening super humans. The rest had been either immune or the virus had not reached them.
Out of Africa and Europe, more monstrosities had emerged; thousands of reports of raging, blood crazed people who had decreased pain response and little fear. These individuals were separate from the virus-enhanced humans in that a horrific parasite was exposed if they sustained enough damage. Other creatures out of the realm of nightmares appeared all over as well. Those that escaped, or were immune had attempted to flee the chaos, or fight back. Both options had failed miserably. The remaining 30 percent of the un affected population were now very second class, members of families forced to live apart because they were human and in the new society which emerged a mere 3 months after the outbreak, humans were not accepted. They were shunned, attacked, killed, and enslaved. That's if they were lucky. Experimentation, or ending up as cattle were the alternatives. The new society claimed humans had moved against them first, had tried to destroy them and the new phase of evolution.
Thus justifying their treatment of them. One man was responsible for the initial release of the virus, of this new society. One man was the perpetrator of the chaos and death of hundreds of thousands. One man was looked up to as God-like, as the leader of this new society. This man was Albert Wesker. Four years ago in Africa, two agents of bsaa had attempted to stop the spread of the virus. They had been defeated, killed at the hands of one of Wesker's many subordinates, a researcher and weapons dealer named Ricardo Irving. Chris Redfield had been one of the agents. A long time severe thorn in Wesker's side, Redfield had sabotaged numerous projects and plans painstakingly made by the Tyrant. The other agent was Sheva Alomar, partner to Chris and equally a nuisance.
Their efforts failed. But Albert Wesker knew better than to get complacent. He had doubled security efforts in all cities, lest some disenchanted humans try to take back control. Not that many would attempt such a mission; most were too terrified to venture very close to the new society and its strongholds, considering the grisly fates which awaited them. But despite that humans had many weaknesses, it would only take a single truly determined individual to cause a lot of damage. Only one to begin dismantling what Wesker and this New World had built. Chris Redfield had been a prime example: The man had destroyed so much of Weskers work; the situation had been nearly comical. He had expected Chris to always track his every move, and had half expected the man to nearly dismantle Uroboros. But some how, Chris had slipped up, hesitated for a second too long. And had paid for it with his life. His annoying little partner, Sheva had continued fighting, but had been taken down mere minutes after Chris. Pathetic really. He had expected so much more….(Oh well) Thought the Tyrant as he regarded the storm outside watching the lightning dance across the sky. Through the second story window he could see the vast expanse of a field and beyond that a forest. His razor sharp vision picked out a lone figure, which sat in the middle of the soaking mess that was across the mansion grounds. It was a female, and he could tell even from this distance, that she was human.
While he did not catch her scent or see her eyes, he sensed she was not among the Evolved. Most others, who had been compatible with Uroboros, had this ability to detect humans, even from a distance of a couple hundred yards. What he noticed about her was odd. She only wore long sleeves and jeans. No raincoat or parka to shield against the cold. And she was crouched in the mud and water of a nearly flooded field. She was'nt moving either; as far as he could tell…she was simply staring ahead at the tree line; suffering from either sickness or mental issues. He narrowed his eyes behind his sunglasses. Even though it was dim in the room and he didn't need to shield his eyes from the light, he wore them anyway.
What this human girl was doing here, near the estate and how security had failed to notice her in the first place angered Wesker. (Those incompetent fools) he seethed. But he soon calmed himself. He had discovered over the years that doing a job yourself benefited the outcome more than relying on others. When the weather cleared, he would see what troubled this human and put an end to her misery. Outside, the wind picked up and the rain fell harder than ever. It sprayed the girl's face and tangled her already messy hair. A particularly loud burst of thunder made her face snap up, and she breathed faster. Realization began to slowly creep in like a burglar trying to steal past sleeping people in a creaky, moaning hallway. How had she gotten here? She only dimly recalled wandering rather aimlessly along a hiking trail before becoming interested in this large field ringed by beautiful trees. Why the sudden interest in a seemingly empty, most likely dangerous place, and why she had sat like a stone sculpture for God knows how long in the middle of it during a storm, frightened her. What had come over her? It had been a really, really strong surge of sadness, hopelessness, and despair.
She was used to those feelings; they had been a daily thing for four years. But she had never allowed them to flare up like a fire storm and surge out of control; actually directing her on odd impulses and refusing to let her mind get back in control of her body. And this is where she had ended up. Miles and miles from her human encampment, nearly dead with cold, soaked to her very soul; half covered with mud, leaves and twigs. Shakily, she rose, almost falling over from the weak numbness that plagued her legs. She crossed her arms in a vain attempt to keep herself warm. Then she truly felt the chill as it gnawed into her bones. Home was too far away to even think of staggering back there in this weather and in this condition.
She glanced down at the ruin of her shoes, which, up until five hours ago had been perfectly fine. She was probably destined to get sick with the flu for weeks. Or get a lung infection. 'Maybe I'll luck out and get both' she muttered to no one in particular, a slight smile playing on her lips. It was the first time she had smiled in months and it felt good. Although smiling about getting possibly deathly ill was quite strange, it never hurt to humor oneself. Considering what the whole world had been through in just a few years, her predicament paled in comparison. The rain was letting up and the wind was swirling slowly about the trees, the now dark sky starless and stark. Now that the rain had stopped, she felt the cold even more if that was possible. Kat took one creaky step forward, trying to avoid the large puddle which had grown from the torrent of rain; although trying to avoid getting wet when you had basically 'swam' in a waterfall made little sense. But then few things did anymore.
After what amounted to 20 min of navigating miniature lakes and mud patches, Kat was finally exiting her strange, inexplicable 'vacation' spot. Suddenly, she stopped. Her heart began to beat faster, and it was not simply from exercise. An odd feeling began in her mid to upper back, ending on the back of her neck where hairs prickled. She was being watched. Her stomach dropped out of her in a rush of quiet panic as she fumbled for weapons. Nothing, save a razor sharp combat knife she held in a shaking hand. She preferred a large machete; more reach, less of a chance of coming into contact with whatever was watching her. After receiving several scars from Licker claws on her stomach and back, and a nasty bite on her shoulder from a Regenerator, the farther she was from an attacker, the better. Close combat was not her strong point. It was then that she realized she was near an impressive mansion…and several other buildings…( big moment of duuuuuh there..) she chided herself. How she had failed to notice it was any ones guess. God, whatever was happening to her mental state was perhaps more serious than she thought. A soft rustle of wet leaves indicating footsteps snapped her from thinking further.
A blur of motion to her right was all she saw before being knocked down with a backhanded strike. The attack hurt her already sore back and she whimpered with pain; dropping her knife. Another set of footsteps approached. This one was slower, almost casual. Kat squinted, opening her eyes a bit and was met with the barrel of an assault rifle and a blinding green laser light. The gun holder was her attacker, a younger man with dark eyes and roughened black hair. He curled his lip in disgust. "You are trespassing on private property, human. That is a crime punishable by death." Fear struck Kat like a baseball bat to the face. Her heart pounded frantically as the reality of her situation settled. She would have preferred fifty Lickers and Regenerators to the Goddamn evolved, new society/ new world freaks. Nearly mindless monsters were nicer to their prey than these super humans. The rifle clicked into place, inches from her forehead. She was so freaking stupid…If she had stayed in her encampment…if she had stayed on the actual road and not gone off along some private hiking trial…so many ifs. No, she was just another dumb human deemed by the universe to be too dimwitted to survive. She deserved this. She closed her eyes and waited for the man to pull the trigger. It never happened.
She then heard a cold voice with a British accent say, "That's enough. She is not to have her brains decorating the ground. Besides, we could use some more test subjects." The rifle wielder agreed with a hasty "yes sir. Right away sir." Kat's heart leaped into her throat. Test subjects. Thrown into some holding cell where they messed with your DNA until you either mutated into some monstrosity, or slowly died from the tampering. She would rather take a bullet to the brain and die quickly. She chanced at opening her eyes, a growing sickness in her stomach. The rifle man barked at her to "stand her ass up." She obliged; wincing from pain and aching all over. When she faced the other person with the chilling voice, she froze, a feeling of terror, more than anything she had felt before, slammed into her. The tall blonde man with sunglasses perched on his nose despite the near pitch-blackness of the night, radiated a predatory energy, more so then his gun toting assistant. His face held little emotion, save for a small smirk at the look of pure primal terror he was receiving from the human before him. She had small wounds on her back and shoulder from being smacked into the ground and they bled sluggishly.
The sweet scent of blood permeating the air as it trickled from the cuts, was quite pleasant and it helped off set the not so appealing smell of a wet, sweaty human half covered in mud and foliage. Wesker regarded the young girl with cold curiosity before motioning his subordinate to bring her along to the mansion. The warm, inviting orange glow cast by the Estates lights seemed to mock Kat's shivering as she was lead to her certain doom. They threaded through an impressive garden, a maze of ornate sculptures, and a flawless stone staircase. High glass windows and neatly carved back doors met the girl's wary gaze. The doors swung open and a rush of soothing warm air brushed her cold face. A servant woman discreetly hurried off to get a towel, lest the sopping wet human drip a pathway of filthy disaster along the shining wooden floor. Kat's eyes grew wide with awe at the high ceiling, the huge fireplace, ornate furniture, and massive staircase that snaked away out of site, leading to dozens of other rooms on the second floor. Tall, stern portraits of prominent family members stared down at her with a disgusted air. (Even the artwork hates me) she thought with a mental chuckle. Despite the horrors that awaited her, she felt oddly calm, almost detached. The bustling footsteps of the servant woman met her tired ears. She hated the way the tall imposing blond man never really took his shaded eyes from her. She could feel them drill into the side of her face. Giving an involuntary shudder, she held her arms tighter against herself and stared at the floor, wondering where the hell her knife was. She felt naked without it. When she saw the cold man hold it in his hand casually, examining it before looking at her with a smug smile as if to say: "Just what exactly were you going to do with such a simple, weak weapon?" she turned away. "Chairman Wesker sir." The servant said. "Permission to take this subject to lower level holding cell, sir." The shaded eyed man nodded before gesturing at his subordinate to leave the room. The rifle man left after saluting his superior. A towel was thrown over Kat and wrapped about her shoulders. Not out of kindness, but out of the fear that her tangled mess of hair would never stop dripping on the near perfect floor. Roughly, she was led away, the sensation of Wesker's burning gaze never leaving her until the door to the back room was shut lightly behind them. The hallway was wide, flanked by the same high windows and flowing curtains, and flecked by the occasional decorative side table with large vases of flowers. Beautiful paintings spread out along the right hand side of the hallway. The servant woman was silent, but Kat could tell from the corner of her eye that she was stealing glances at her when she could. The grip on her elbow was tight and uncomfortable, but fighting or running for it was plain suicide: the servant woman's lean body and dark gaze told Kat she would lose that battle. Another set of double doors awaited them. The servant pushed her way through silently, towing Kat along behind her like a stubborn dog on a leash. This hallway was equally long and wide, but instead of tables, suits of armor from many European countries stood as solemn guards to the echoing hallway. Grinding pain in her knees made Kat wince and she knew why the servant was so fit. Nothing but endless hallways, and stairs all day, every day. Once they passed through another set of doors, the woman finally spoke. "You're the first human we've seen in six months; the first we have had here in almost nine." The servant sounded solemn, almost sad as her voice changed to a whisper. "I hope your group escapes sir Wesker's notice, if they are still near here. Why did they abandon you?" Karen did'nt know how to respond. One of the 'evolved', one of the superhumans, was actually talking to her like she was an intelligent, capable being. "They did'nt abandon me. They would never do that." The woman stared ahead for a while longer, before asking again. " Do you have a family out there? Are your parents with your group? Do you have siblings? I'm sorry for all the questions I'm just curious. You were out in the middle of nowhere and your are only a child." Kat's face became rigid, cold and stone like. She cast her fiery gaze away from her captor, looking at the passing collections of taxidermed wild life that flanked them along the hall way. "My parents are not with any human group. They were turned when that virus or whatever the hell you call it came into Seattle. They disowned me and my younger sister. Disowned us because we were immune. My older brother was turned along with them. He tried to kill me, came after both my younger sister and me. Our own parents and brother, our own family, tried to murder us. So we ran, and found neighbors that were immune and kind enough to take us in. They packed up and we fled alongside them, with so many others. Unfortunately, this 'New World' was not keen on letting us get away. We were stopped by some military convoy about ten miles into our car trip. My neighbors were shot dead, and my little sister was taken. I never saw her again. Somehow I escaped and fled into a warehouse. I met a few of what you people call Lickers and Regenerators. I would have died, but this group of immunes saved me. I have been with that group ever since. And no, I am not telling you anything. So if you are going to kill me, get it over with. Because I will never tell you where my friends are." It surprised Kat that such an inside wrenching experience was given as a simple speech. The girl's voice was monotone; yet beneath the surface a dangerous level of anger and sadness prowled about, like an impatient tiger confined to a cage much too small for its liking. The servant woman sensed it, and made a mental note to keep that beast from escaping its cage. For if the tigress got out, Kat would most likely hurt or kill herself in attempts to fight back or escape. She clearly was trying to keep the animal locked away, but her tries were becoming useless. Most, in fact all the humans who had the misfortune of being at the mansion, made every effort possible to scream whatever came to mind, and strike back without thought. This one did not. And it shocked the servant woman, who was used to violent treatment by captive humans, despite her efforts at civility and fairness. They normally did not take kindly to kindness from 'the enemy'. In fact, they raged against it. But this one at least accepted the kindness; however grudgingly. They had come to a metal set of doors, with a card verification scanner on the wall next to it. The servant swiped her card through, and the doors opened with a hiss. A lonely hallway, metal and concrete, flanked by holding cell doors loomed ahead. But the servant pulled Kat towards another door on the left, and after a swipe of her card, it opened to reveal a shower room of sorts, complete with a small set of lockers and benches. The walls were tiled, as was the floor. No windows were here, but strong lighting made the room at least slightly more inviting than the holding cell block. The servant woman spoke. "First you need a shower, then we can get you some dry clothes to wear. Surprised you have not gotten sick from exposure." Kat stood in the middle of the room, aware that the door had been shut tight. She decided she may as well be 'obedient' and stay put, doing what she was told. The servant was extracting towels, and fresh, clean dry clothing from a locker. The uniform was blue and white, with a symbol stitched to the back. "I'll let you shower and dress. The room is monitored by closed circuit cameras, so please do not try anything stupid. Sir Wesker does not take kindly to trouble." The servant's voice was solemn, and sad. She left, neatly shutting the door behind her. Kat snorted mirthlessly. ( Cameras…closed circuit…hhmm..things just keep getting more and more interesting!) Smirking, she removed her towel, and soaking clothes. Her skin was clammy, pale, and had numerous bits of nature stuck to it. Her hair was a disaster, twisted up in two places with twigs. At least a comb had been laid out for her. She did'nt have a super model body size either. She wore a size ten, but did not really care what people thought, especially this 'new world'. Hell, she would probably lose quite a bit of weight over the course of her stay…(they probably starve their test subjects) she thought as she showered, taking careful pains to undo the knots and stubborn twigs from her hair. The hot water felt amazing, and soap had thankfully been provided. When she was finished, Kat turned off the shower with some regret and toweled off; grateful to be dry at last. The neat pile of clothes had a pair of shoes on top as well. She slipped into the dry wear with a sigh, feeling oddly content. She laughed out loud from the feeling, the sound echoing about the steamy empty room. At least she did not feel the tidal wave of sorrow from earlier that day. She went to the door, and was let out. She nodded at the servant, "Thank you." She had no idea why she thanked this random stranger, who was part of the mansions employee list…who answered to Wesker…who was one of 'them'. But her thanks was genuine. Kat wanted to encourage the servant's kindness. A single friendly face amongst a million vicious ones could make the difference between staying sane and going crazy. Quietly, she was led to her cell. It was basically a prison cell, with a cot, sink, and a thankfully private bathroom. Although an opaque telephone booth with a toilet did not really speak of interior decorating skills, it was better than nothing. "Someone will be by later to bring food." The servant smiled; it was a simple smile, but it was the only way she could chip away at the tension. Then she quietly shut the door and walked away, footsteps echoing amongst the quiet. Kat heard her go through the entrance door and the tell tale hiss of it snapping shut like mighty jaws, sealing her in here further. She collapsed on the cot in a heap and was asleep at once; exhaustion finally sticking her with its relentless claws. It was the only bit of peace that would come for some time, and while escaping into one's subconscious was sub-par at best to actually being free, it was the only route to a sliver of comfort.
Author's note: So how was it? Good? Bad? In between? Once again I apologize for the first chapter length. The others will be more manageable. And there will be more villain awesomeness soon!