A/N: Wrote the rough draft for this during a particularly boring class while my brain drifted into La-La land and how Left 4 Dead is inherently better than the Resident Evil films. The first chapters will follow this format of camera diary then switches to 3rd-person POV.

Disclaimer: all recognizable characters (c) VALVe.

[The camera flips on and there's a rustle in the painfully white room. There's no evidence that a human being ever lived there other than a tattered overall, a Bullshifters shirt and a pair of work boots. A man no older than 23 walks into the frame; messy brown curls, slightly tanned skin, and blue eyes make contrast with the lack of color around him. His black shirt has a tear alongside his right arm, showing the hints of a large blue tribal tattoo. The only thing not black were the weapons' holster and his cap. He sits down on a white chair and clears his throat. ]

My name's Ellis an' I'm a survivor…well, I used t' be. What'ver CEDA says 'bout helpin' out survivors, it's a lie. Things got so bad righ' aroun' th' time the copter showed and picked us up in New Orleans. Military's started t' shoot ev'ryone down, it don't matter if it was immune, carrier, or infected. I remember prayin' Louis an' Zoey be all right…Francis can jus' bite th' big one fer all I care.

When we got here at the evac station, them scientists split us up into four rooms like these… [Ellis picks up the military issue camera and shows it around. It's a sterile environment except for the occasional plate of food and notepad full of old doodles and a garden gnome in a glass coffin] where th' air's too dry. Nick got the room next t'mine but we couldn't talk or 'em soldiers came in t' shut us both up. So we est'blished a system of Morse at 2 am when th' shifts changed. First thing Nick tapped was "Don't drop the soap." I think he heard me laugh.

We were isolated fo' three days while they ran their tests t' see if we were carriers or immune. I really didn' mind 'em needles, I jus' wanted a friendly face in tha' see o' white. They didn't want us socializin' and wanted t' see if we were contagious for som'thin' or shit. [He stops for a breath and to grab the water bottle from behind the camera.] At th' end of the 3rd day, they wanted us t' burn our clothes…Like hell, they'd be takin' my stuff! They're what makes us us! Good thing Coach argued as long as he did because we were confirmed Immune; we wash th' clothes ourselves an' keep 'em.

The CEDA guys were really jumpy 'bout the idea but 'em soldiers said som'thin' t' the likin' of "We're doing this to them, might as well let them keep their stuff." I've ne'er been so happy t' keep mah hat! I didn't understan' then why Nick, Rochelle an' Coach turned so pale for tha'.

A week later, I got mah answer: they were goin' to use us. Them scientists found we had some sort o' extra punch t' our immune system or what'ver with varyin' strengths based on "life experiences" or som'thin' equally stupid. What'ver they found, Ro was had th' least because of her [the young man picks up the document] "sedentary lifestyle" an' they'd go easy on her. Me an' Coach got the brunt load o' the "regiment". It was th' only time I was e'ver sorry t' be Keith's friend; I was there in mah stories y'know. Coach's football career an' "comeback" durin' our time t'gether was their reasons to give him [Reads again] "full dosage". Nick was s'pposed to be in the middle ground 'cause his records were in Chicago but the eggheads decided to fuck it and stick 'im in the full dosage group with us.

Befo' we got our blue shots though, th' soldiers sent us on an all-expense trip t' Austin by helicopter again so we'd get "properly educated". I can't make this shit up; they signed us all up in som' special ops trainin' for no good reason! Those were one of th' hardest weeks o' my life, tryin' t' cram years of trainin' in 2 and a half weeks! But at least…we were back in our group, like when we met in the Vannah. [Ellis stretches himself along the back of the seat and props his feet up on the edge of the table.]

I do remember Nick relaxin' on the empty bleachers one day while the other soldiers went out t'die – half o' them had ne'er seen a Boomer in their lives – with Coach while me an' Rochelle toyed 'round with some sweet full-body grapples. "Ten bucks Ro kicks Overalls' ass," I could hear the smirk in his voice. "Girl's got some rage today, Nick, I'll raise it two-to-one," Coach replied before I got myself in a full body leg hold. Goes without sayin' Nick musta been psychic because I was lyin' on my ass, with a backache.

I later found out why she was so damn pissed from Nick himself: th' latest batch of tests gave the green light to th' eggheads for their li'l experiment with us. I can tell yew this; I've killed Tanks, I've killed Witches but my heart dropped t' the floor when he said that. Tha' night, I remember tapping "What's going to happen to us?" on my wall but all I got was "Whatever they want it to happen, El." Nick only uses El t' make fun of me or t' say we're in deep shit. [he shrugs at the lens] Shit, didn' they learn from those crappy Resident Evil movies tha' human experimentation's bad? "They're desperate," he concluded that conversation.

The next day we got flown back to the evac center…never really cared t' know the city but we did sit down and Coach said a li'l prayer. Fo' once, Nick didn't insult the man or scoff at th' words being said. I don' remember the exact words but we all had th' same thought: God, please let us live one mo' day. [Ellis's expression saddens considerably and there's no hint of the jovial mood he had at the start of the recording.] They were waitin' fo' us with four tanks of water and all that Alien pod crap, and an IV of th' Blue stuff. It burned when th' stuff was inserted into my veins in mah hands an' forearm so they injected us with som' anesth'sia t' keep us quiet when they put us in the tanks, or so they said. I only got t' count to 5 horses jumpin' the fence when I blacked out.

[He takes off his hat to pull his hair back then repositions it again] Whate'er they did t' us…messed us up. We were still ourselves but…there's no real way t' describe it. It's like seeing th' world through new eyes, touchin' ev'rythin' with new hands…it felt wrong. That's when I felt it, my new body. I felt strong, stronger than possibly Keith. There were soldiers waitin', guns on stan'by, just in case CEDA's science fair project resulted in any one o' us turnin' Infected.. I saw 'em cut Rochelle's hand an' it jus' grew back like a fresh coat of paint. Needless to say…we lost our shit.

Coach was yelling at 'em, telling 'em this was inhumane, and managed to toss one of th' doctors over th' window. Nick grabbed me by th' arm an' told me to start runnin' at any direction befo' he got pistol-whipped. I ran like there was no tomorrow 'cause, honestly, at tha' moment…there wasn't. I ran so damn fast, they had t' shoot me with sleepin' darts to get me on mah knees. Once we were all "sedated", Dr. McKinley, Nick told me she was th' head of th' project, promised us that once she an' her fellow eggheads were done and the cure was found, she'd reverse it all. I chose…choose to believe her. To make her promise official, she personally handed each one of us a blank pair of dog tags and asked us what we wanted on them…

I heard Coach scoff at th' notion and asked Nick, "Hey, Slick; what'd you call us back in Savannah?" I saw the glare in that gambler's eyes jus' sparkle when he answered with, "The Four Horsemen. No, Yee-Haw, they're not going to give you an animal."

That all happened a week before I stole this cam'ra from security. My name's Ellis an' fer now, I'm Conquest.

[The young man tenses up at the sound of movement at the door, and quickly shuts the camera off.]