Your challenge is to write crossover fanfiction combining Resident Evil and Silent Hill. The story should use rape as a plot device!
The Alpha Team had one mission; to save the president's daughter. They wouldn't fail, not this time, not after that time in Puerto Rico with the monkey and the tequila. A mysterious lead, dropped by a nameless space marine, one of Earth's toughest, hardened in combat and trained for action, pointed the team of brave young soldiers to a small town called Silent Hill.
The team landed their helicopter in empty, soot-covered main street of Silent Hill. In the distance, they could hear a scream; it didn't matter now. It wasn't the president's daughter, for she clearly had a higher-pich. And she was the only person who mattered right now. The Alpha Team armed themselves and prepared for combat.
"You go that way, Frost." Shouted Albert Wesker as he wrapped his muscular arm around Miss Valentine. He'd curl them toes eventually, ayuh.
"Yes sir, Wesker sir." Replied Joseph Frost, the young, naive grunt who had been sent in last year. Good kid, wife back home.
As the two teams, Albert, Jill, and Barry in one and Joseph, Chris and Brad in the others prepared to seperate, a PACK OF VICIOUS DEMON DOGS ran out from a back alley. Barry made a cutesy clicking noise, in a mock attempt to befriend the feral beasts and finally have a puppy. It didn't work.
One of the dogs grabbed on to Joseph's leg. Another the back of his shirt. The third dog tackled the young, handsome man, ripping at his throat. Brad, being a big chickenshit nigger, hopped into the helicopter and fired it up. He wan't gunna lose no leg to dem dogs for no president's daughter, even if the president was a broseph.
As the helicopter flew off, Albert, Chris and Jill fired into the pack of dogs, killing them (and possibly Joseph). Barry wept for his puppy-to-be, who he had already named Flapjack.
Suddenly, a man and his daughter rushed out from the same alley.
"Did you kill our dogs?" Asked the confused man.
"They attacked our team-member!" Shouted Chris.
"That's how they say hello!" Wept the little girl.
"I'm sorry. I like doggies, too." Whispered Barry, apologetically. Albert wasn't having any of that, and promptly shot the kindly man. No one really cared. They were either army grunts or they lived in a town called Silent Hill with rabid dogs who bite to say hello. What, did you expect girly screams?
"My name's Harold. I expect you to buy us three new dogs." The man said.
"I'm sure we can arrange to do that." Albert said politely.
"They were Puerto Rican hairless-" Harold began.
Puerto Rico. The monkey. The fucking monkey.
Chris, in a blind, flash-back induced rage, began shooting at the two. Puerto Rico. That filthy, sweat-back infested island. They were all half ape and their mothers fucked apes.
"What the fuck, man?" Albert asked.
"Puerto Rico." Chris replied.
"Puerto Rico..." Jill muttered.
"Puerto Rico." Albert chimed in.
Before the two men knew it, they were naked, "Puerto Rico" proudly written on their chests in Barry's blood. Ash stuck to their bare, sweaty backs as the DP Jill. She hadn't consented, but it isn't ever really rape, 'cause all women want the cock, right? Right. In Puerto Rico. They'd forgotten about the president's daughter. She doesn't matter either, when you're in Puerto Rico.
And then Pyramid Head, assisted by a Licker, came out of an alley and killed all three.
THE END.