Berceuse Lullabye
Kasage Starrunner
Disclaimer: Resident Evil is not mine, it's Capcom's, however I think this fic idea is pretty original for this genre. I could be wrong. Probably, I am. Enjoy, it should be crazy and fun.
Chapter One:
///***\\\
Once upon a time, in a land far away, there was a kind King named Alfred. Though proud and distant, he ruled the land with benevolence. However, the king was young to the throne and naïve of the treacheries laid forth for one so sensitive to the needs of human beings, and when the beauty of the clever Queen Alexia touched his innocent heart, he was instantly lost to the wiles of the dangerous seductress. Blinded by his love for her, he did not see the devious creature that she was. He ignored advice from his court and knights, and he married the Queen.
The king was loved, and the Queen was feared.
///***\\\
The arrow sprang from the bow on a true course to its target, pinioning the apple to the tree before it could touch the ground. Satisfied, the female archer who had shot the arrow, stretched in her stance and walked across the red earth to fetch it. Her brother watched her closely, unsure of whether this was the proper art for his younger sister to learn. However, he said nothing and let her do as she wished. The man was no match for her dagger-like tongue, and he did not wish to lose a battle today.
Things were dark in the kingdom.
The woman dislodged the shaft from the tree and began to chew on the apple, replacing the arrow in her quiver as she returned to the side of her brother. Her red , long jacket rustled in the breeze. The young woman looked like a cardinal—red all around, with cheery yet stubborn blue eyes that ran in their family: the Redfields.
"Hello, Chris," she stated, leaning on the fence with her bow in hand. "I thought you'd be with Jill and Albert?"
The young man shook his head stiffly, and gave a weathered smile. "Not today. Captain Wesker's been called by his Majesty to a hunt. Our patrol was replaced by another one today."
"Oh." She looked disappointed, as though her brother being around would impede her freedom. Gloved hands ran through the thick red hair that had escaped from the short braid down her back. The gesture made Chris laugh. It reminded him of how little a lady his sister was. Jill and Rebecca were even more noble than Claire. He forgave her though—after all, her personality was his fault. He was supposed to be the example in the family, and new little about what being a woman was all about.
So much the better for Claire. Her talents lay in things other than playing hostess and house-making. Though, it seemed to him that none of his female companions had those particular talents. Maybe Rebecca, but then, she was an apothecary. If she couldn't cook, he doubted that the youth could mix herbs to make medicines for the Guard she helped so often.
"What are you thinking about?"
"Girls." She smacked at him and he grinned. "I'm not being lude, Claire. I'm thinking about Jill and Rebecca for God's sake."
"You should be kinder to them."
He raised an eyebrow. "What do you mean?"
"I mean, Rebecca has feelings for you and Jill at least respects you, if not more than that. Its difficult for women on the Guard to find men who will accept them, and I think you play with them. It isn't nice."
"I don't play and I am nice. I treat them like anyone else."
Claire grinned. "That's what I'm afraid of." She adjusted the belt around her waist. "When can I be on the Guard?"
"When I'm dead and can't stop you."
The red-head frowned. "I can take care of myself."
"And the Bandersnatch last week?"
"I was doing fine until you came along."
"It had your head in its claws. I wasn't about to let my baby sister die because she swears she can take care of herself."
"I'm not a baby, Chris. You can't keep running to save me at home either, you have a job to do."
An air of silence came between them. There was something rotten in the kingdom—a stench of decay that was just out of reach of many people's senses, but out in the Red Fields and Raccoon Valley, the citizens could feel it. They saw it—monsters that crept outside the doors of the town at night—mysterious death's with human bite marks.
The Queen had brought something evil to the world, and King Alfred would not dare to see it. She had him wound around her finger, and he did anything she said.
But the Guard didn't. They knew something was wrong. Claire wondered what all Chris' Captain knew about the evil in the night. He seemed so distant. One day, the blonde man stopped by the house. He was courtly enough, but she didn't like the way he called her "Dear-heart" and when he touched her she recoiled and hid in the kitchen until he'd finished his business with her brother. The brunette wasn't happy about her rudeness, but she was stubborn enough to stand her ground. She didn't trust Captain Albert Wesker.
She wondered why Chris didn't see that about him. The woman cleared her throat. "The Bandersnatch wouldn't have killed me," she repeated finally, then stalked into the house with her quiver and bow. The man stared after her and sighed.
"She's either going to kill me, or kill her husband. I just know it."
///***\\\
The crypts beneath the Castle Rockfort were deep and dark. Queen Alexia was one of but a few trusted individuals with the keys to the ages of bones kept beneath the sturdy stone walls. Even King Alfred did not know about some of the hidden passages of the Catacombs. She kept her secrets there in the damp, and she kept them well.
The deep purple skirt hustled about her as she stepped across the ancient dusty floor. Sculpted nostrils took in the smell of earth, stone, and iron and carried it deep into her lungs like oxygen. In her hand she carried a candle, which lit up her frozen eyes and pale hair like a ghost haunting the passageways. She sang to herself in latin—a high haunting voice that echoed, and the cast down that she had captured could hear her from rooms and rooms away, and shivered in their cells.
The king was loved and the queen was feared.
She traced an inscription on the alcove of the most ancient of kings with an elegant index finger. The wall rumbled and moved aside, revealing a spiral staircase, curling downward into more hellish darkness. The Queen smiled and touched the crown about her forehead before she stepped into the cobwebbed door. It shut with a resounding boom behind her and she began to travel down and around into shadow, the flickering orange light barely enough to catch her footing as the feet hit *tap tap* on the worn, cobbled stairs.
There was moaning here. You could hear it from midway down. Moaning and cries of pain from the countless prisoners that had dared defied Alfred's glorious and perfect Queen. She kept them all her, the traitors. They were perfect for her use. They hated her, but would become hers. She owned their souls: all of them.
At the base of the stairs was a line of cells. Hands reached out from behind iron bars and she scorned them. Those moaners, those beggars, they were already hers. There was no challenge in their fall—their minds were owned by her now, a melded mush of insanity and thoughtlessness caused by lack of sunlight and worse things. They were drones—useless and expendable, with no intelligence left to use. There were a few that became better things, but they were already elsewhere—in a safer place than the prison bay.
She had come for the son of the spy, Burnside.
Alexia found him in the far corner cell. His hands clutched the bars and his head leaned on it. His mind wasn't gone yet—no, but he was weary from his fight. She smiled. The boy had lasted a lot longer than his father.
He heard her footsteps and jerked to stand straight, lunging from her through the bars. She stepped aside and laughed as the boy stood back breathing heavily. His grey eyes watched her from behind a curtain of auburn hair, and smoldered like fire smoke and storm clouds. It was a precious sight in this death-bay she'd created for her enemies.
"I trust you are doing well, 267."
"My name is Steve Burnside, Alexia."
"Call me your Majesty. I am your Queen."
The boy spat and lunged through the bars again. He had multiple bruises from where he had repeated this action with failure. She heard his collarbone crack against the side and knew the young man would have another to add to his collection. She smiled.
"I am your Queen," she repeated. "And you are mine."
"I'll never be yours. My father would have stopped you."
She gave a musical cackle. "Your father would have accomplished nothing. Look around you, what do you see? Mindless people, destroyed before they could get near me."
He glanced around and shuddered, flattening himself far away from the sights against the wall. A woman in the cell next to him reached out to grab his arm, and he put himself by the wall, out of reach.
"Do they frighten you, 267?"
"Steve," he muttered.
"They do, and I'll tell you a secret."
Steve blinked and the woman motioned him toward her. He crept up slowly then leaned on the bars. Her hand slipped inside to grab his shoulders and pull his ear close to her lips. "Your father is one of them," she whispered.
He lurched away, flying into the stone wall at the back of his cell. "You're a monster."
The Queen smirked. "I am your Queen."
///***\\\
Albert Wesker strode across the courtyard at his King's side as he spoiled his hunting dogs. They looked up at the two blonde men with wagging tails and lolling tongues, panting heavily from the hunt. Alfred smiled down at them, half listening to the Captain of the Guard as he spoke.
"I don't suppose you even know where her Majesty is at the moment?"
The king looked up, blue eyes smiling. "Not really. I don't own her."
"You couldn't own her if you wanted to," thought Wesker. "She's far above you. Dare I think above myself."
"I wouldn't trouble yourself, Captain. No one dares to touch her."
"They don't touch her because they believe she's some kind of sorceress."
"Superstitious nonsense. They're jealous of her."
"You've seen the hanging mannequin. Many subjects have seen the hanging mannequin. It disturbs them."
Alfred ignored Albert and continued to pet his dogs, letting them slobber all over his face if it was their wish. The tails whipped faster, and those that weren't getting enough attention for their liking whined softly.
"Its not just the Queen. The monster's exterminated under the reign of Queen Veronica years ago have resurface in the kingdom. Three children disappeared last week. Then there were the murders."
"Yes, yes. The courts will handle it. It's their job."
"Monsters, your Majesty."
The blond man stood and eyes Albert suspiciously. "You want something, Captain."
"Yes. A squadron of my own—eight or ten of the best members of the guard to protect the kingdom. I already have them picked out—all I need is an official declaration."
The King waved him off and began leading his dogs back to the kennels. "Do what you like, Captain Wesker. I trust you. Besides, my beloved Alexia already approved such a group."
The blonde man in uniform raised an eyebrow. "She did?"
"Yes, she did. She said I should call it STARS, and put my most trusted Captain in charge. It is yours if you want it."
Wesker nodded. "I have desired it for some time, your Majesty."
Alfred gave an infantile smile. "Good. You are dimissed to organize your command, Captain Wesker."
The captain bowed and smiled, snake-like. "Your Majesty."
///***\\\
TBC in Chapter 2.