Author's Notes: Firstly off, this is the very first thing that I have published to this site, so the hold process is new to me. Secondly, I am not all that great at writing. It might be obvious in my likely crappy grammar. I don't know, so please give me some critics, and be nice about it. Thirdly, was a on-a-whim thing that just came to me all of a sudden. I kinda want to continue it, but I don't know if I will, or can. So if you like it, give me some support. it would be great. Fourthly, I own nothing in the Resident Evil franchise. Just in case Capcom is watching. So anyway, enjoy.


The night dark and gloomy, completely black from the storm front coming through. Drops of rain fell from the void above, helpless to gravity as its pulled towards earth. And there he sat, protected by a tree, but feeling the same pain as the rain. Feeling the helplessness from having a power greater than you pull you towards its plans and motives. Not having the power to stop it, then having your dreams, your hopes, your future ripped from you as your crash into despair. Next thing you know, you have no will left in you. You do as your told, no questions ask, just like he planned.

And he Steve sat, nothing more than a puppet of his master. He leaned against the tree, looking up at the void. It was one of the few times he could think freely, so he wondered if he died, after everything he's done, would he go to Heaven. He didn't really believe in religion, even when he was just a kid, but in the shell of a life he lives now, it gives him hope that, after death, he might not be damned to a dark oblivion.

He lifted his hand to eye level. He could see the dark green patches along his wrist, going up his arm, to his shoulder. It didn't stop there. His eyes glanced down at his torso, where more patches were scattered around his chest and abdomen, disappearing under the band of his pants. He knew what caused them, though they didn't bother him any more. Those he crossed paths would see or notice, and those who did never lasted long afterwards. They were a reminder that his days as a human were over, a long time ago at that. These days, he was nothing more than a B.O.W.

Steve slipped his other hand into his pocket, and pulled out a razor. He pressed it against his palm, and drew it across his skin with no hesitation. He felt the trickle of blood as it pooled in his hand, and for a moment he felt like the old Steve again, in nothing more than a bad daydream after dozing off. Then he flip his hand over and let the blood drip, and the lick of the flames where the blood hit the ground confirmed than it may have been a nightmare, but it was not a dream.

He rested his arm on his knee as the blood drained from his hand to the ground, and looked back up at the sky. He closed his eyes, and the faint image of a redhead appeared before him. She turned to look at him, smiling, and her blue eyes meet his.

"Claire...?" he tried to call, but the name never made it past his lips. He tried to reach for her, but she seem to stay just out of reach.

"Steve...come back to me...," she called, no louder than a whisper. And then, she was gone. He opened his eyes, and looked into the face of his master.

"How many times must I call you before you come?" he asked in a monotone voice. Steve looked at him, face blank of emotion. "I apologize, Master."

Moments later, a beep broke the silence, and his master pulled a cell phone from his belt. "Mr. Wesker, the new drug been completed and is awaiting trial testing. We need the test subject brought back to the lab," a voice droned from the other end of the line.

The corner of Wesker's mouth crept up into a grin. "Perfect. I'll be right there. Be prepared to start when I returned."

"Yes, Sir," the voice said, and then the line disconnected.

He turned to Steve. "It's now time to serve your purpose, dear Steve," he said, eyes gleaming with anticipation. "I'd appreciate it if you returned to the lab."

Steve stood up at his master's request. "Yes, Master," he mutter as he followed Wesker back. He looked up at the sky once more, longing for an end to his nightmare. Finally, he said, "Claire, I love you. I promise, I'll come back to you soon."