Author Note: Hello! Coming here with another RE2Remake, except this time it's not going to be a oneshot. It's going to be a multichapter fic! I've written multichapter fics before, heck my first story was a multichapter fic, but I stopped and focused more on one-shots and two-shots. It's almost going to be two years since I've did a multichapter, so forgive me if I fuck up later AND forgive me if I mess up some of the characters? I'm really new to RE. Only games I've seen have been the RE2Remake and RE7, which I don't remember a lot of about. Anyway, this fic is inspired by the 70s Babysitter mod made by puppet88 for Claire, so kudos to them for creating an awesome mod! Anyway, enjoy the story!
"911, What's your emergency."
"YES, HELLO! PLEASE SEND OVER SOME FUCKING COPS! WE HAVE A CRAZY CANNIBALISTIC BITCH HERE AND—JERRY! WATCH OUT FOR YOUR ARM!"
"Ma'am, calm down please. What's going on?"
"THERE'S A FUCKING CRAZY BITCH HERE! THAT'S WHAT'S GOING ON! SHE POPPED OUTTA NOWHERE AND ATTACKED MY NEIGHBOR! SHE TOOK A FUCKING CHUNK OUT OF HIS SHOULDER! I DON'T THINK MY GRANDSON CAN HOLD HER DOWN ANY LONGER! SEND SOME FUCKING COPS NOW!"
"Okay, ma'am, we're on it. Can you tell me where you're calling from?"
"I'M CALLING FROM MY HOUSE! CAN'T YOU JUST TRACK MY PHONE CALL!?"
"I'm doing that right now, ma'am. A patrol car is on its way now. Try to make sure the woman doesn't—"
The call ended abruptly with the sounds of unintelligible yelling being the last thing Darla Thomas, the phone operator, heard. She called the number back, but no one answered. The only thing she could do at this point was check up on the patrol car she sent out.
"Diaz?" She said into her headset.
"Yep? Did something happen?"
"Yeah, the call was cut off."
"Did you attempt for a redial?"
"I did, but no response. You have the address right?"
"Yep. I'm almost there. I'll call if I need back up."
"Okay, be safe and remember, only shoot if necessary."
He gave her a small "uh-huh" before cutting off the line.
"Was that another one?"
Darla turned around to see Marvin Branagh standing behind her, concern and unease evident in his dark brown eyes.
She nodded. "Twelveth one this week and it isn't even fucking Wednesday. It's the same as all the others: people are attacked by someone that witnesses have described as zombie-like, with decaying skin and facial features, and most of the injuries the victims have suffered are bite wounds. What do you think this all means, Marv? Is this a zombie apocalypse coming out of our television screens or some sort of fucked-up cult like the newspapers are saying?"
Marvin sighed, shaking his head.
"I really don't know, Darla," he began, his voice weary, "Whatever it is, it's getting me worried. We've had to shoot dead most of the suspects and we only had one alive, but we had to shoot him yesterday because he attacked one of our officers. Families of the deceased suspects are suing us and the newspapers aren't helping."
"Those reporters are like vultures, swooping in and grabbing anything they can take. Stupid assholes," she bitterly said, "Anyway, do you remember what S.T.A.R.S's last mission was?"
Marvin looked at her, confused. He did remember, along with any one else who had been there to hear the entire story, but he was puzzled by what that had to do with their current problem. "They were called in to investigate these brutal cannibalistic homicides.", he answered. The last word was barely out of his mouth when he realized what his coworker was hinting at.
"Their story doesn't sound so batshit crazy anymore, huh?"
Before he could say anything, his walkie talkie turned on.
"Marvin, you there? I need your help over here at the power station."
"Okay, I'm coming over", Marvin spoke into the walkie talkie before turning his attention to Darla, "You know what to do. If anything else happens, tell me when I get back."
Sherry Birkin was crouching behind the stairs, listening intently as her parents argued with each other. She couldn't quite understand what exactly it was that they were arguing about, but she knew one thing: her father, anxious and mad, was planning on doing something that her mother was definitely against.
"There's other ways that we can solve this, William!" Her mother yelled.
"There isn't!" Her father screeched back, his voice raising to a level that Sherry had never heard before. She would be lying if she said it didn't terrified her. "You don't understand! This is my life's work! I'll be ruined if I let those bastards grab this! If they want it, it'll have to be over my fucking dead body!"
Before her mother could say anything, he ran out towards the door, holding a large, black box under his arm. His flailing lab coat being consumed by the darkness of the night was the last thing Sherry saw of him. Her mother sighed and began to pace back and forth, swearing under her breath, instead of going after him. Sherry was tempted to crawl out from her hiding place and ask her mother what was wrong, but knowing how mean her mother could be when she was in a bad mood, she refrained herself and watched silently as her mother made a call.
"It's me, Annette. We have a huge problem. William is planning on taking the G-Virus and running away."
Occupied and with her back turned to her, Sherry knew this was her chance to make a beeline to her bedroom. Quietly, she began to crawl out from behind the stairs.
"Where he's heading? Oh, he's going to McDonald's. He's heading to NEST! Didn't you hear what I said?!...Don't worry, I'm going to go and stop him. We already have enough problems in our hands…."
Sherry was only on the fourth step when her mother ended the call and turned around, finally taking notice of her presence. She could've easily bolted off, but the moment her mother began to walk towards her, she stood frozen in place. She instinctively closed her eyes in an attempt to fight back unwanted tears. Considering how frequently this occurred, she should've gotten used to it, but she didn't. Like a wasp sting, her mother's harsh scolding stung her every single time.
"How much did you hear?" Her mother asked in a very neutral tone with no hint of annoyance or even anger.
Sherry opened an eye, slightly taken aback. She also felt relieved, thinking that her mother wasn't mad at her for hearing. That was until she looked into her pale blue eyes. They were filled to the brim with pure annoyance.
"Well? How much did you hear? I don't have time, Sherry.", her mother asked again. This time, her voice was laced with irritation.
"I-I only heard a bit.", Sherry answered, looking down at her feet.
"Did you understand what we were talking about?"
"Work, I think? I didn't understand all of it."
Her mother let out a tired and irritated sigh, emphasizing how annoyed she was at this moment. Without another word to her, she pulled out her phone once more.
"Chief Irons, it's Annette. Yeah, I know things are not good right now, but is there any way you can send a police officer here? I have some work to do but I need someone to look after my daughter…..What the fuck do you mean that you don't have officers at the moment? Send anyone you know! I'm not arguing with you right now. Fucking do it, or you're going to be really sorry." She hung up and shook her head. "Fucking asshole."
"What's happening?" Sherry asked, watching as her mother proceeded to gather up her coat and keys.
"Nothing that concerns you, Sherry. All I can tell you is that you're getting a babysitter tonight. Listen to them and if anything happens call the police and no matter what, don't leave this house! Do you understand?"
She nodded her head.
"Good, now can you go upstairs? You're in the way and I need to do things."
She didn't need to be asked twice.
A few miles away, hanging outside of a bar, is Claire Redfield. She's a college student from out of town. She rarely visits the city, but this time she had to because of her older brother, Chris, a S.T.A.R.S. member for the RPD. After hearing rumors that S.T.A.R.S. was shut down, followed by no contact from Chris, Claire decided to drop her studies and see if her brother was okay. Apparently, from what the front office at the police station told her, he was okay and on a fucking vacation in Europe. Pissed by the fact that she had come a long way for nothing, Claire had hoped she could sneak into the local bar, despite the fact she wasn't legal to drink yet. Unfortunately, her plan was foiled by the bartender who quickly recognized her and had kicked her out.
"First, Chris isn't fucking here and is in Europe right now. Second, I get kicked out. This sure as hell isn't my day.", she grumbled as she put her keys in the ignition and her motorcycle grumbled to life.
When she took notice of the fuel gauge, she had to bite her tongue from screaming in pure frustration.
Grumbling some more, she pulled out her wallet. Unfortunately, she didn't have enough for the ride back home, or heck, even for road snacks.
"Fuck you, Chris.", Claire muttered, putting on her helmet.
'Hopefully one of your police friends can lend me some money.', she thought as she rode off.
Someone up there was definitely mad at her today.
She asked everyone who she knew was friends with her brother and knew her well. Sadly, every single one of them said that they didn't have money to spare.
She was now outside of the police station, sitting on her motorcycle, contemplating on whether Chris' friends were telling the truth about their money and worrying about where she was going to sleep tonight. She didn't have enough money to rent a room in a motel and even if she did, she wouldn't take it. She never really liked this city and hated the idea of staying more than one day. All she wanted right now was to be out in the highway, surrounded by green pastures, not smothered by tall buildings, and the wind in her hair.
"Claire Redfield? Is that you?"
So deep in thought, Claire startled at hearing her name and almost fell off her motorcycle. She turned around to see a well-dressed, old, and overweight man staring at her and clutching a packet of papers.
"Do I know you?" Claire asked, warily. She put her hand inside the pocket of her jacket, tightly grabbing hold of the small bottle of pepper spray Chris gave her.
The old man let out a small chuckle. "Chris never told you about me? I guess that's sort of a good thing. Anyway, I'm his boss, Irons. Chief Irons.", He explained and extended his hand out for a handshake.
Claire reluctantly accepted it. She recalled hearing this man's name once or twice whenever she was on the phone with her brother but she never knew what he looked like.
"Rita told me you came around asking for Chris."
"Yeah. She told me he was on vacation in Europe."
Chief Irons nodded, stealing a somewhat nervous glance at the packet of papers in his hand. "I was surprised by his request of a vacation since he never takes any. Except for holidays, of course. But he told me he really needed it. He was drained and tired after his last mission. The one that shut down S.T.A.R.S. He said he needed to do some thinking. The poor guy", He said.
She bit her lip, resisting the urge to speak out her doubts about this "vacation". Whenever Chris had to go out of town, he would let her know. If he had to leave the country, he definitely would tell her. Since she didn't get any notice from him about this European vacation, she really doubted what the police department told her. And seeing how nervous the fat chief was acting, her suspicions were growing. There was obviously something off here.
"Anyway, are you planning on leaving soon?" Chief Irons asked.
Claire, still wary of him, debated on whether telling him the truth. She finally decided that telling him something that was a lie and not far from the truth wouldn't hurt.
"No. A friend of mine lives here and I'm planning on staying the night.", She said. "Why do you ask?"
A look of relief washed over his eyes and she didn't fail to notice it.
"I have this friend," he began, "She has a daughter, a really sweet girl, and needs someone to babysit her for a few hours tonight. She's offering $30 an hour."
"That's a lot of fucking money for a simple babysitting job."
"She works at Umbrella so she makes a good fortune and has a lot to spare. So, are you interested or not?"
Hearing how desperate and impatient he sounded at the end, Claire was about to reject the offer. But then she remembered her lack of gas money. Thirty dollars an hour was enough for the three-hour ride back home and she could buy a snack or even a slushie. She's babysat most of her younger cousins in the past before, so this kid wouldn't be much of a problem. No harm, right? Unless of course this turns out to be a trap, but she can easily fight her way out with her small can of pepper spray and, if needed, her gun.
"Yeah, I'm interested."
She was busy doing her math homework in her room when she heard the doorbell ring. It wasn't her father, she knew. If it was him, he would've used his keys to get in. The only guess she could come up with was that it was a visitor. Probably another one of her mother's scientists coworkers. A few minutes later, she realized she was wrong when her mother called for her.
Halfway down the stairs, she remembered the babysitter her mother said she was getting, and she immediately felt the urge to go back upstairs and lock herself up. The babysitters her parents get her are always coworkers of theirs and let's just say, they're not fun or nice at all. Whoever the babysitter was tonight, it was definitely going to be someone from Umbrella, even though her mother seemed to have wanted a police officer, which really confused Sherry.
Once again, she was proven wrong. The young woman that was standing beside her mother was definitely not from Umbrella. She was clad in a red leather jacket and blue jeans. Sherry never saw Umbrella workers dress like that before. And she also looked really young and pretty. The Umbrella workers were almost always old and not-so-pretty.
"Claire," Her mother began, addressing the woman, "This is Sherry. Sherry, this is Claire. She's going to watch over you for tonight. Say hi to her."
Reluctantly, Sherry walked up. "Hi.", she said in a timid voice.
A warm smile graced Claire's features and she kneeled down to be at Sherry's eye level. "Hi. First time with a babysitter I bet? Well, there's nothing to worry about. I'm going to make sure we have fun tonight before your curfew."
Sherry shook her head. "Babysitters are a normal thing for me."
Claire seemed like she was going to say something, but she didn't get a chance to when Sherry's mother began to speak as she grabbed her things.
"Please don't call me if there's an emergency. Just look at the notebook I gave you. The answers for any questions you have is in there. If something drastically bad happens, call the police. You already know their number, right?"
"Yes, ma'am."
"Good," Annette said and then focused her attention on Sherry, "Be nice to Claire, okay? I'll see you tomorrow. I love you."
"I love you too.", Sherry said and watched as her mother closed the door behind her. A tiny part of her silently wished that her mother would have hugged and kissed her goodbye, like she seen other mothers do.
"So, now. What were you doing before I came?" Claire asked, with her arms crossed and a warm smile on her face.
"Math homework."
"Ouch, math. I was bad at that back when I was in highschool. Thinking about it, I still am."
Sherry couldn't help but let out a small chuckle. She always thought people older than her would be experts in math. She found it really humorous that Claire was still bad at it.
"Are you bad at seventh grade math?" Sherry asked.
Claire pursed her lips, thinking. She then chuckled and shook her head. "When I was in seventh grade, I was really good at math. Ninth grade was when everything went downhill for me. You need any help on anything?"
The younger girl nodded.
"Okay. I'll help you. Afterwards, how does a movie and some popcorn sound like?"
"Sounds great!" Sherry beamed excitedly. She had a feeling that tonight was going to absolutely great.
Author's Note: Ngl this chapter was actually going to end with zombies attacking the Birkin residence, but then I realized that it was getting so long so that'll happen in the next chapter shdjejxjdjdjdh Hope you guys enjoyed it. Reviews and constructive criticism is highly appreciated. And please don't pester me about when the next chapter is going to be up. Since this is my coming back to multichapters, I'm not going to have an update schedule set up. Goodbye!