Resident Evil 4 Fanfic:

This is Not What I Signed Up For

This Is Not What I Signed Up For

Character Profile:

Name: Daryl Chevalier

Gender: Female

Age: 19 (applied to the Academy fresh outta high school; she's almost 20)

Height: 5'6 ½"

Weight: 116 ¾ lbs.

Hair Color: Light Ash Blonde (looks somewhat silver)

Hair Length: Below her shoulder blades

Hair Style: Likes to wear it in a loose braid so it stays out of her face; a large lock of hair (that's too short to be in the braid) always hangs in front of either eye and she is constantly pulling it back behind her ear or blowing it out of the way (later in the game she finds a discarded barrette and uses it to pin the troublesome lock back).

Eye Color: Lavender (had to have eye surgery done for her bad eyesight when she was 16 to make it more bearable to be in the Academy -she had plans even back then)

Skin Tone: Pale (as associated with her extremely light hair and eyes, she's a bit of an albino)

Clothing(at the beginning of game): A white hoodie jacket with a black-and-gold guitar pattern all around and a green t-shirt with a star with wings and lightning bolts on the bust underneath. Because of her job position, she wears black cargo pants, black combat boots, and a dark brown gun holster (similar to Leon's) on her torso. When she, Leon, and Luis get captured by Bittores Mendez, she loses the jacket…awww; it was so cool…T_T…

Weapons:Nothing too special…handgun, shotgun, rifle, grenades, hand-to-hand combat knife, yeah…she gets upgrades whenever Leon does…

Any Special Abilities…?:Nothing that hasn't been taught in the Academy: a few vital martial art moves, but nothing flashy.

Hometown:Boise, Idaho (so, yeah, she's never been in the T-Virus incident in Raccoon City…hearing about it's enough…that's why she wanted to join the Academy)

Personality:(we'll say that Leon thinks this-it works better than me describing it) Daryl Chevalier… a rookie underclassman straight fresh out of the Academy…I remember her…she has a pretty good aim, but it must have been her intelligence scores that made her 2nd in her class, unless there's something more than that hidden up her sleeve…that alone won't save her…she needs guts and a perfect aim, too…and she hardly looks like she's seen any pictures of bloodshed…this kid's far too sweet-looking, and her eyes still have that innocent look in 'em that you eventually lose after constant fighting… hopefully nothing too creepy happens with this cult that kidnapped Ashley or else she'll be scarred for life… if she'd been in the Raccoon City incident she would hold out better if something does happen… (Famous last words, Leon)

Chapter One: Memories

The earbud in my left ear blared out some random Japanese anime soundtrack song, leaving my right ear exposed to Leon's quiet breathing and the quiet, yet readable Spanish voices in the front seat as our 'chaperones' drove us to wherever we were going. Not really wanting to talk to them, I turned and glanced at Leon, to see what he was up to. It was nothing too exciting, just resting his head in his palm and staring blankly out the grimy car window at the cloudy gray sky. Quite frankly, he looked…bored. Either bored or doing an extremely clever job of hiding what he truly was feeling. Unlike me, he had experience in stuff like this. 6 years experience, maybe a bit more. Me? I was barely at 11 months. And I had the jitters like an entire army of spiders were approaching me in my mind. If you're arachnophobic, skip the simile and you'll be cool.

Let me tell you, if that didn't spell it out in plain English already; I was extremely anxious, this being my first mission as an Academy graduate outside the Academy. I was now a full-fledged agent, ready to start my post as the rookie of the President's Secret Service. It's a title that an almost-20-year-old like me should take on with pride. To be trusted with the Presidential family's safety was just…wow. That's right. Mind-boggling would be the perfect phrase to describe it. And this mission that Leon and I were on was something to prove how far we were able to go for this position: Save the President's daughter, Ashley, from a weird cult in a remote part of Spain. Fun, fun.

Even though I wanted this job like a drug addict needed crack, after briefly hearing about Ashley at a party a few months back, I longed for a different mission to get this job…Ashley Graham sounded…annoying. And that's all there is to it. To hear a person younger than you say that is not much of a compliment. But I was willing to put up with anythingto get the security position.

Why do the impossible to get a stupid job, you may ask? Well, 'cause Leon S. Kennedy has this job, too, and he's a great mentor and teacher to me, being a few years older. He could teach me things that the instructors at the Academy would never lecture on. Leon was a miracle worker.

I knew from the files that Hunnigan briefed me on before leaving that he had joined recently, too, but still…

Leon was a lot better than me; I had seen him training our group multiple times, his swift, fluid motions as he ran, maneuvered his handgun, and aimed at the moving target made him look like he was a master of such a dangerous dance. Bang, bang, bang! Dodge, bang, bang, bang! reload. dodge.And the cycle would start over again and again as the trainees watched in awe at the tall, well-built man shooting through the same hole on the target over and over: right through the head. After he finished he would beckon the few and the brave up to the training platform, and they would attempt as good a shot as he had done…and only two out of 25 did almost as well as he. I was not one of those two.

I was up there when I laid eyes on him, when I first started the Academy, just so I could see him closer; my closest friends and I were just outta high school, weren't taking our positions and classes seriously yet, but were interested in sexy guys…

…and Leon was our target of the day.

We had heard that an expert mercenary-type was coming to train with us that day and we didn't know who it was…certainly not this delicious man surrounded by moving targets. We didn't know his name, how old he was, or what the hell he was doing at the training academy, but we did know that he was drop-dead gorgeous. He was tall, maybe 5'10" or 5'11"with lean, muscular arms shown off by a skintight black UnderArmor-type t-shirt and beautiful, flawless ivory skin. His short hair with the left-parted bangs that framed the sides of his perfect face and slightly veiled his right eye was so dark a blonde that you could easily mistake it for light brown, but either way was a lovely color.

Gazing out at the young, inexperienced crowd of swooning girls and skinny, scared-looking boys was a pair of wide blue eyes that weren't unlike some star sapphires I had seen set in silver and gold in the fine jewelry stores back in Boise. A pair of dark blue jeans loosely decorated his strong legs, and a pair of black combat boots did the same for his feet. Across his chest was a brown leather holster, for his arsenal of weapons.

As we watched him, his eyes met with mine, and I could feel the blood flow into my normally pale cheeks as I blushed. And he subtly smirked at me, as if he knewwhat kind of feelings were pouring into my face. My lungs almost forgot to work, and I could tell that my purple eyes were burning into his blue ones with such passion and happiness that he was acknowledging my existence.

And that's when he started his routine, as soon as the targets moved faster. He moved in quick bursts, and shot them all in the center of the head and chest with such pristine accuracy that it made me doubt that he was even human…with his looks, he could play the role of Superman…

"This is Mr. Leon S. Kennedy," Our Academy headmaster announced after the stranger had finished his targets and gave a small smile to us, the crowd, letting the girls squeal over him and the guys envy him. "He will be with us from time to teach you the basics that reading cannot teach you. Give him respect, as if he was an actual instructor here…not a god, ladies!" We 'ladies' cringed at his words…how were we supposed to help it if he looked like a god?

"Just pay attention and do as he says. Understood?!"

Standing at attention for our instructor in our blue training uniforms, we all cried out in unison. "Yes, sir!"

"Good," He growled as a response and left the platform in his usual huff.

Leon looked a bit nerve-wrecked at the instructor's hasty retreat, but then turned back into himself, glancing and giving a staring look to the crowd. "Lemme just say I've never taught anyone before," he started, his voice baritone and confident. "But your instructor doesn't know that, so don't tell him. Got it?"

Confused and delighted by the sudden words, we all relaxed. He wasn't gonna drill us to the bone if we screwed up on something, so we instantly trusted him and nodded to his order.

"Good. Now, for your first lesson," The look on Leon's face seemed to become full-blown spite, and the emotion in his eyes looked like somebody evilly rubbing their hands together like the villains did in old cartoons and movies. "I hope you were all paying attention, because I want you all to do as I did a few minutes ago. Make sure none of the targets touch you, and make sure every single bullet in your handgun goes through either the middle of the head…"he paused to shoot through a head without even looking. "…or the chest…"He fired that perfect shot again, this time through the chest. "Any volunteers?"

We were silent, knowing that this man asked for the impossible. Is he kidding? What's he playing at? Even the most annoying, arrogant boy was struck dumb. No one could beat him. Why bother?

"No one, really?" Leon sounded surprised, as if he thought we were better than just one-month rookies. "Oh, well, if you don't think you're good enough," he started down the platform stairs with a obviously-there defeated tone in his voice, "I'll just tell your instructor that I can't teach you, and I'll have him fail you 'cause you wouldn't even listen to what I had to say…you'll never graduate, and-"

"Wait," I couldn't believe I was interrupting a superior, but my voice, now unfamiliarly quiet to me, stopped Leon in his tracks, words and walk. "If no one else'll try it, I'll be the first."

Leon found his way back up the stairs, looking a bit surprised at my interruption but beckoned me up there nonetheless. "C'mere," he called out with another subtle smirk. "The girl with my birthstone for eyes."

Tucking an annoying lock of ash-blonde hair behind my ear, I took a deep breath into my neglected lungs and approached the stairs, Leon's comment about the color of my eyes being his birthstone filling my cheeks with warmth. Somewhat hurrying, I kept my gaze down as I went up the stairs, not wanting to skip a single step and trip in front of everyone, including Leon.

"Is Daryl crazy?" "What's gotten into that girl?" "She's never been the first to volunteer for anything!"Those were the concerned voices in hushed tones that I heard over the crowd, and I agreed with them. What was I doing? I couldn't do this! Why'd I even consider-

"You can't chicken out on me now that you're up here," Leon broke into my thoughts, putting a comforting black-leather-clad hand on my shoulder, a gesture I needed. "Now listen, OK? Look at me, kid. Don't listen to them out there. They don't think you can do it. But you can. I've seen 15-year-olds do what I can, so I know you can do this. You'll never know until you give it a whirl."

I blinked at his words, drinking them in, savoring every syllable like it was a gourmet meal. Leon was right, I would never know, and as I nodded in realization, I muttered the tiniest, "Alright. Let's do this."

The steel handgun felt unfamiliar and foreign in my hand, since we had only done a few gun safety classes in the first month, and what's more, this was Leon's gun; it was larger and heavier than the standard issue at the Academy. And that's what put me at an uneasy point. I had no idea how to fire this gun without hurting myself, but before I could ask Leon pulled a lever and the targets began to slowly move, faster and faster as if they were playing ring around the rosy around me. I was trapped, and I felt so devastated that I wanted to cry. I can't do this…I can't do this! I can't do-

You'll never know until you give it a whirl.

A whirl. Not really knowing what I was doing, I watched the targets swirling around me…and listened to them, the breeze tousling my hair and uniform as they moved. And that's when they began to move in all direction, all aiming at me.

Bang, bang, bang! Dodge!One hit. I didn't stop to see where.

Reload! Dodge! Bang, bang, bang!Another hit.

My pattern didn't stop until the targets did, and when they did, I felt so drained, as if this had gone on for hours on end. Sinking to my knees, a faint smile lit up my face. Done.

Leon was there in half a second, offering me a hand up, which I graciously took. "You know I lied about the 15-year-old, right?" He whispered into my ear as I stood.

That almost caused me to fall down again. "Excuse me? Did I do that bad?"

"No," he replied simply. "Not bad at all, for a beginner. Take a look."

Remember when I said before that I wasn't one of the two brave souls whose aims were almost as good as Leon's? Well, I still wasn't. And that's okay. I still passed...

True, I had missed a lot of the targets that surrounded me because of the unfamiliar guns, but the ones I hit went right through the heads, necks and some through the chests. Not perfect, sure, but still pretty nasty, some even lethal. And that was the important part.

Flash forward 10 months. I no longer think of Leon as a god, just because I've known him for a while, and it's awkward when that happens. I'm also more mature, knowing that my life is less important than the mission ahead. Leon is my partner, and I am his partner, and we have each other's backs, no matter what the peril or danger. Whatever experience we would have on this mission we would have together, unless he, the leader of the project, said otherwise.

Looking out the window again, I gave my transparent refection a secret smile. I was ready for anything…let whatever come and hit me the hardest.