Ink Ribbons
- - -
Save File 01: Steve
---
After shutting the door tightly behind him, the tattered Steve Burnside limped across the room and searched the random drawers in the palace study for any healing items. He let out a huge sigh of relief when his hands caught on to a bottle of First Aid Spray. Gripping the white bottle tightly in his hand, he slouched to the floor and leaned his weight against an expensive sturdy panel of a well-furnished desk.
"Stupid Ashford family…they're the ones responsible for my family's death…using all their money from bio-terrorist experiments to purchase shit like this!" Steve gritted his teeth as a hot surge of pain shot through his elbow after he jammed it into the side of the desk, causing many files and sheets to scatter above him. He watched with an empty stare as the white papers rained above his head before landing slowly and gracefully on the floor beside him. The many documents reminded him of his father's mistakes. Even though Steve was furious with his father, there was a part of him that would always love him no matter how stupid he had been. As he placed his submachine guns carefully on the floor to treat his wounds, he couldn't control the hot tears rolling past his closed eyes. He didn't want to hold the weapon that had killed his own flesh and blood, his own father, but the submachine guns were the only defense he had against the undead on the island.
He gently sprayed the liquid on to the bleeding gash on his right arm as scarcely as he could. Healing items were hard to find, and he wanted to conserve as much of them as possible. "I should probably save some for Claire…" he said to himself in between his soft sniffles. He was somewhat surprised that those words left his mouth so fluidly with such confidence. He hadn't known the stranger for more than a couple of hours at most, but he immediately felt a close connection to her and went as far as shooting his own father in an effort to rescue her.
Steve turned around and placed the bottle on the table. He had only used a small amount for himself for fear that Claire was in greater danger than he was. The wound on his arm continued to throb, but most of the pain ebbed away due to the medicinal spray. He would just have to suck it up and endure the lessened pain. After roughly drying his eyes with his good arm, he stood up.
When he heard low moans coming from the other side of the door, he instinctively grabbed his submachine guns, but the weight of the weapon was too much of a burden on his injured arm.
"Damn," he cursed loudly as he dropped his weapon on the desk and shook his arm to relieve the throbbing sensation. He held his breath and waited for the footsteps of the undead to move closer to the door. When their low moans and light footsteps faded, he sighed with relief and threw himself against a soft padded study chair. It certainly felt nice to sit again after running through rooms after rooms trying to piece together the complicated puzzles left by the twisted Ashford twins.
"Just a few minutes…" he said aloud, mentally promising himself that he would spend no more than just a couple of minutes trying to rejuvenate.
In front of him, an old-fashioned typewriter caught his attention. He absentmindedly ran his fingers over the smooth keys and began poking at them, watching random letters form on the page before him. "Heh…who uses these nowadays anyway?" His fingers moved quicker and more letters started to form on the page. Finally, he decided to stop messing with the keys and placed both of his hands on to the board. Without thinking, his hands took control of his thoughts and manifested them into coherent words on the paper before him.
Asjdkjkajdkaj dasdlasi sadaskdlak kdlskad
I'm trapped in here, hiding from the zombies like a coward because of my stupid injured arm. I guess I have nothing better to do for the next few minutes because I'm sitting here typing away to you. Would you keep my secrets, oh trusty typewriter? Yeah, why wouldn't you?
I don't even know what I'm doing. I feel like I have no purpose anymore. I've just killed my own father and it seems impossible to escape from this island. The small little hope I do have of getting of this island is thanks to this stranger girl I met. Her name is Claire Redfield. I thought she was just going to get in my way at first, but she's kind of useful I guess. Surprisingly, she's quite skilled and intelligent and I can't help but wonder if she's had experiences with these undead zombies because she's awfully good with her guns. She said she's looking for her brother. She still has family left…unlike me.
I don't want to admit it but there's something special about her that I can't quite put my finger on. There just has to be…I didn't put a bullet through my own father's head to save her for no reason. When I'm with her…I don't feel lonely anymore. Maybe it's because she's the only other human here besides me. Maybe not. I can't help but feel secure and…happy when I'm with her. I find myself checking her out too whenever we're together. She's kinda pretty I suppose…a lot better looking than your average chick. I don't even know why I'm telling you this! I guess I just need someone to talk to and I certainly can't tell Claire! I try to act all cool, but deep down, I'm actually a very shy and introverted person.
My arm was hurting like hell, but most of the pain is gone now. That's good because I wanted to save some healing items for Claire. Claire. Why do all my thoughts always go back to her? I guess…even though I'm afraid to admit it, I think I really care a lot about her. Whenever we're fighting together, there's something inside of me that awakens, and it drives me to want to protect her from those monsters. She probably doesn't need my protection, but I can't help but feel this way. That's it! I'm going to promise myself to protect her at all cost. I'm going to be her knight in shining armor even if she doesn't want one. Heh, that has a nice ring to it…Steve, the knight in shining armor. Ugh! What is this? Why do I feel this way about someone I've just met!?
You have no idea how frustrated I am right now! Not only do I have to worry about fighting those horrible monsters, but now I have to worry about keeping my hormones in check too!
Heh, all jokes aside though…I think I'm really starting to fall for her. Her strength, passion, and determination to survive and get off this island really help motivate me to give it all I've got. We're going to get off this island together.
And maybe then, I'll tell her how I feel…
The last key clicked softly against his ears as he pulled his hands away. He thought about re-reading the random note he had just typed but changed his mind at the very last minute.
"Damn, I don't have time for this!" Flexing his arm to test the magnitude of the pain, he smiled faintly when he didn't feel any pressure that was too overwhelming. He stuffed the First Aid Spray into his pocket and grabbed his submachine guns as he slid across the surface of the desk. He took a deep breath as he reached for the doorknob, preparing to face whatever danger that was waiting for him on the other side. He was going to do his best to survive, for her.
"Claire…your knight is coming for you."
---
A/N: I wanted to start with this chapter because I've just finished Code Veronica. The typewriter idea came to me awhile back when I was saving my games. I thought, "Just what do these characters type on the typewriter when the game is saved?" Hehe, so this is just my take on that. I'll be adding more chapters with other characters' thoughts later on so it this will be a collection of 'saved progresses.' As always, thanks for reading and please leave a review! Thanks! Until next time!