The Last Days
Disclaimer- I don't own any of the RE plotlines. Everything else is mine.
A/n: Flames will be used for forest fires so, don't bother to flame.
---------------------------
Chapter One- Flashback Part One
An officer pulled the gun out of my hand.
"Why won't you believe me?!" I screamed.
"Why?"
Then he pulled me into the police cruiser.
I can still remember there horrid stench. I can still remember the screams of there victims. I can still remember their empty gaze...
~Flashback~
"Damien get up, breakfast!" I heard my mother call. My eyes sprung open and I peered around my room. Random posters that were tacked up on the wall lifted slowly from the air conditioning. I slid the covers off my body and sat up. Looking over at my alarm clock stood up. 11:00.
Oh I love Saturdays..." I murmured to myself while grabbing a pair of jeans off the floor. Slipping them on I dragged myself down a flight of stairs into a bright kitchen. A bowl of Lucky Charms was waiting for me at the table. I plopped down in the chair and lifted a spoonful of the cereal to my mouth.
But before it entered my mouth, something caught TV. A pretty young broadcaster was standing in a newsroom talking.
"More cannibalistic murders may have taken place last night in Raccoon city. The bodies of Seth Daniels and Brianna Feral were found apparently eaten in Raccoon Park. The city wide curfew still stands and the mayor is going to send more teams to investigate these horrific murders. That is all, I am Jessica Ryans, Goodbye."
I looked over at my mom to see her expression. She was scared, just like everyone else. After breakfast, I went to my bathroom and took a quick shower, then went back to my room. After I got there, I pulled on some khaki's and a white tee. The shirt stretch over my built body. My biceps bulged out of the sleeves. Then I pulled on my favorite camouflage vest. I got the vest to go hunting, along with the shotgun in my closet. I had a pretty good shot, and was trying to make the R.P.D. I Grabbed my wallet and keys off a desk then took off out my room.
"Bye mom, I'm going out to Jake's! She waved goodbye to me and I walked out the front door.
"Wait," somebody called from behind me. It was my big brother. Even though I was seventeen, I was still the youngest in my family, compared to my 23 year old brother. He was a private detective, a job that I had admired for a while. His tall frame filled the doorway. He slipped something into the inside pocket of my vest, it felt heavy and cold. I stuck my hand inside to feel what it was. He grabbed my arm.
"Don't look at it till your driving, it'll freak mom out."
I gave him a puzzled look.
"Just in case." He whispered.
I squinted at him nervously. He then put his closed hand over mine. I spread my open hand out, and his hand opened. 6 .44 Magnum rounds fell into my hand. I nodded to him then whipped around. It was good to be armed now, I though to myself. I then hopped onto my silver Honda Interceptor motorcycle, jammed the keys in, and sped off. Raindrops pattered down on my helmet, and slid down over my visor. I glanced at the sky to see storm clouds forming above me. Thunder rolled in the distance. I ripped around a corner and kept going until I reached Jake's house. I shut off the bike and brought it up the driveway. I put my hand inside my vest. Yes, just as I thought. My brothers revolver. A large colt anaconda. I grinned. I loved using it. I always felt so powerful with it in my hands. Stepping up a small flight of stairs, I knocked on the door. Loud hard rock music blared out as the door flew open. Jake Matthews, my best friend stood at the doorway. He wore a pair of jeans and a black "Static-X" sweatshirt, hood down.
"What's up?" he asked, slapping me in the shoulder.
"Sup?" I echoed. I stepped through the doorway to hear the song Tier by Rammstein playing.
"Did you here about those attacks on TV.? That shit is crazy!" I asked.
"Yeah," he said. "You want to go check out the park? That's where they found the bodies. We could see if there's something there from the crime seen."
Yeah, I know, it sounds childish but Jake and I always liked to check out crime stuff and other things. My brother did too, that's where he got his interest in being a private detective.
"Sure," I said. "You wanna take your car or should I take my bike?"
"Lets take the car." He said.
"You wanna get something to eat first?" I asked pleadingly.
"Nah, we'll grab some pizza on the way back." He replied.
"Sure..." I answered. He reached over and grabbed a raincoat, then went out the door. I followed him out and stood next to his car. I heard the door unlock, went around the other side to ride shotgun. Slipping into the car I turned to him.
"You actually think we'll find something?" I asked nervously. He turned the key and the car sputtered to life. Then he turned to me.
"God, I hope not."
I laughed. Because every time we did find something, it was either a body part or a blood stain or something unpleasant. But, every time a crime does happen, Jake and I always investigate. Its been a little tradition of ours ever since my brother became a detective.
He reversed out of the driveway and took off down the road. I watched out the window as the houses raced by. I saw children playing out on a front lawn. They were tossing a football around then chasing each other to get the ball. They laughed as they fell on the ground wrestling for the toy. If only I had known what horrible fate would befall them...
"Damien, were here." Jake said. He turned the car off and stepped outside. I saw him walk forward then turn around to see me sitting in the vehicle still.
"Come on!" he shouted.
I suddenly had a terrible feeling. A feeling of dread. It engulfed me. It permeated throughout my body until there was nothing left inside. I felt it flow through my veins. It took over every nerve in my body. Time seemed to freeze, and I became cold. Very cold. But I started to sweat. It slowly rolled down my forehead and passed my eye, until it finally dripped off my chin. I don't know if it was the horrid stench. Or if it was the empty moan. Or if it was the fact that I saw it stumble behind him. I don't know what made me do it. But I screamed. I screamed louder and louder. I screamed as I saw it grabbed him and bite into his neck. Jake started to scream now. Our voices joined in a choir of pain and sadness. I could see a ever-growing red stain infest his sweatshirt. The blood traveled down his short until it dripped down out of the bottom. It was now that I realized the attacker. I saw its face, even in the dark. It was completely bald, with part of its scalp peeling of its skull. The skin on its face was rotting and tattered. But its eyes were the worst. An empty socket on its right side, and a punctured bloodshot one that rolled manically on the other side. Its lips were completely drained of blood, until he it took another bite with its yellow broken teeth. Red liquid dripped of its face onto the wet slippery grass. I could only watch in horror as it feasted on Jake. It tore into his neck again. Then the victim fell. And the zombie followed its pray to the floor, still feasting.
Another unknown instinct took me and I felt I had to run. My quivering hand reached for the door handle. I wrapped my fingers around it and leaned against the door, still watching the horrific seen next to me. I pulled the handle down and I toppled out of the car. I realized I couldn't greave now, I had to run. I pulled myself of the ground and burst into a sprint. The seen replayed in my mind over and over again like a broken record as I pumped my rubbery legs down a rode. After about two minutes of sprinting down the rode I slowed down and dropped to the ground. Tears rolled down my cheek. I sat there feeling sadness, paranoia, and pity. I knew what I had to do, I had to tell the police. I suddenly sprung up and ran. I ran until I reached my house. Running through the door, I ran to the nearest phone.
My mother came into the room.
"Honey, what's wrong?"
I dialed 911.
"I want to report a murder," I said in a shaky voice.
I told the police everything, with my mother right beside me. They came over to my house, asked question then finally asked me to show them the scene. So I showed it to them. I showed them everything. But I didn't tell them about the murderers appearance, for I was still in denial of that. I kept think of its horrible rotten, sexless face. I sat there, staring at the corpse of my friend as they took him into the back of a van. And I realized, that could've been me.
And then it happened, a few weeks later. I was riding downtown on my bike. I was so happy. The R.P.D. had excepted me as a security guard for their prison. I sped into town, my bike burning rubber. I arrived at the police station, to pick up my weapon, armor, and other things. I arrived a swung myself off my bike. When suddenly I heard it. A groan. The same unearthly moan I heard when Jake had gotten killed. I froze. My senses went on high alarm, and my eyes searched for any movement at all. Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed a motion. I pivoted on my foot to face the direction. My hands shook. My heart pounded in my chest. My pulse raced. It was there. A person. But not. The same rotting skin, the same empty gaze, the same putrid smell. I froze and stared at it as it stumbled toward me. I remembered. That could've been me, and I ran. I ran towards the police station.
"No!" I yelled at myself. I realized. I had to tell someone. I wasn't going to run this time. I was going to fight. And I had just the right weapon to do it. I had recently put a shotgun holster onto my bike. It wasn't a real holster. I had just welded a piece of metal I had melted into the shape of a holster onto my bike. I snapped back to my bike, reached down, and grabbed the shotgun. Lifting it out of its make-shift holder, I put my hand on the pump, and brought it to eye level. That, thing, was in my sights. Suddenly I lowered it, for I had realized who it was. Jake, staggered towards me. My hands shook.
What? How? WHY? My mind screamed. But I didn't have time to think, because he was now five feet in front of me. I'm going to put an end to this right now. I pumped the shotgun and brought it to eye level again. Suddenly I felt something cold on my shoulder. I twisted my head to see a white bony hand perched on my shoulder. I brought my eyes up, to meet the empty sockets of another victim.
Disclaimer- I don't own any of the RE plotlines. Everything else is mine.
A/n: Flames will be used for forest fires so, don't bother to flame.
---------------------------
Chapter One- Flashback Part One
An officer pulled the gun out of my hand.
"Why won't you believe me?!" I screamed.
"Why?"
Then he pulled me into the police cruiser.
I can still remember there horrid stench. I can still remember the screams of there victims. I can still remember their empty gaze...
~Flashback~
"Damien get up, breakfast!" I heard my mother call. My eyes sprung open and I peered around my room. Random posters that were tacked up on the wall lifted slowly from the air conditioning. I slid the covers off my body and sat up. Looking over at my alarm clock stood up. 11:00.
Oh I love Saturdays..." I murmured to myself while grabbing a pair of jeans off the floor. Slipping them on I dragged myself down a flight of stairs into a bright kitchen. A bowl of Lucky Charms was waiting for me at the table. I plopped down in the chair and lifted a spoonful of the cereal to my mouth.
But before it entered my mouth, something caught TV. A pretty young broadcaster was standing in a newsroom talking.
"More cannibalistic murders may have taken place last night in Raccoon city. The bodies of Seth Daniels and Brianna Feral were found apparently eaten in Raccoon Park. The city wide curfew still stands and the mayor is going to send more teams to investigate these horrific murders. That is all, I am Jessica Ryans, Goodbye."
I looked over at my mom to see her expression. She was scared, just like everyone else. After breakfast, I went to my bathroom and took a quick shower, then went back to my room. After I got there, I pulled on some khaki's and a white tee. The shirt stretch over my built body. My biceps bulged out of the sleeves. Then I pulled on my favorite camouflage vest. I got the vest to go hunting, along with the shotgun in my closet. I had a pretty good shot, and was trying to make the R.P.D. I Grabbed my wallet and keys off a desk then took off out my room.
"Bye mom, I'm going out to Jake's! She waved goodbye to me and I walked out the front door.
"Wait," somebody called from behind me. It was my big brother. Even though I was seventeen, I was still the youngest in my family, compared to my 23 year old brother. He was a private detective, a job that I had admired for a while. His tall frame filled the doorway. He slipped something into the inside pocket of my vest, it felt heavy and cold. I stuck my hand inside to feel what it was. He grabbed my arm.
"Don't look at it till your driving, it'll freak mom out."
I gave him a puzzled look.
"Just in case." He whispered.
I squinted at him nervously. He then put his closed hand over mine. I spread my open hand out, and his hand opened. 6 .44 Magnum rounds fell into my hand. I nodded to him then whipped around. It was good to be armed now, I though to myself. I then hopped onto my silver Honda Interceptor motorcycle, jammed the keys in, and sped off. Raindrops pattered down on my helmet, and slid down over my visor. I glanced at the sky to see storm clouds forming above me. Thunder rolled in the distance. I ripped around a corner and kept going until I reached Jake's house. I shut off the bike and brought it up the driveway. I put my hand inside my vest. Yes, just as I thought. My brothers revolver. A large colt anaconda. I grinned. I loved using it. I always felt so powerful with it in my hands. Stepping up a small flight of stairs, I knocked on the door. Loud hard rock music blared out as the door flew open. Jake Matthews, my best friend stood at the doorway. He wore a pair of jeans and a black "Static-X" sweatshirt, hood down.
"What's up?" he asked, slapping me in the shoulder.
"Sup?" I echoed. I stepped through the doorway to hear the song Tier by Rammstein playing.
"Did you here about those attacks on TV.? That shit is crazy!" I asked.
"Yeah," he said. "You want to go check out the park? That's where they found the bodies. We could see if there's something there from the crime seen."
Yeah, I know, it sounds childish but Jake and I always liked to check out crime stuff and other things. My brother did too, that's where he got his interest in being a private detective.
"Sure," I said. "You wanna take your car or should I take my bike?"
"Lets take the car." He said.
"You wanna get something to eat first?" I asked pleadingly.
"Nah, we'll grab some pizza on the way back." He replied.
"Sure..." I answered. He reached over and grabbed a raincoat, then went out the door. I followed him out and stood next to his car. I heard the door unlock, went around the other side to ride shotgun. Slipping into the car I turned to him.
"You actually think we'll find something?" I asked nervously. He turned the key and the car sputtered to life. Then he turned to me.
"God, I hope not."
I laughed. Because every time we did find something, it was either a body part or a blood stain or something unpleasant. But, every time a crime does happen, Jake and I always investigate. Its been a little tradition of ours ever since my brother became a detective.
He reversed out of the driveway and took off down the road. I watched out the window as the houses raced by. I saw children playing out on a front lawn. They were tossing a football around then chasing each other to get the ball. They laughed as they fell on the ground wrestling for the toy. If only I had known what horrible fate would befall them...
"Damien, were here." Jake said. He turned the car off and stepped outside. I saw him walk forward then turn around to see me sitting in the vehicle still.
"Come on!" he shouted.
I suddenly had a terrible feeling. A feeling of dread. It engulfed me. It permeated throughout my body until there was nothing left inside. I felt it flow through my veins. It took over every nerve in my body. Time seemed to freeze, and I became cold. Very cold. But I started to sweat. It slowly rolled down my forehead and passed my eye, until it finally dripped off my chin. I don't know if it was the horrid stench. Or if it was the empty moan. Or if it was the fact that I saw it stumble behind him. I don't know what made me do it. But I screamed. I screamed louder and louder. I screamed as I saw it grabbed him and bite into his neck. Jake started to scream now. Our voices joined in a choir of pain and sadness. I could see a ever-growing red stain infest his sweatshirt. The blood traveled down his short until it dripped down out of the bottom. It was now that I realized the attacker. I saw its face, even in the dark. It was completely bald, with part of its scalp peeling of its skull. The skin on its face was rotting and tattered. But its eyes were the worst. An empty socket on its right side, and a punctured bloodshot one that rolled manically on the other side. Its lips were completely drained of blood, until he it took another bite with its yellow broken teeth. Red liquid dripped of its face onto the wet slippery grass. I could only watch in horror as it feasted on Jake. It tore into his neck again. Then the victim fell. And the zombie followed its pray to the floor, still feasting.
Another unknown instinct took me and I felt I had to run. My quivering hand reached for the door handle. I wrapped my fingers around it and leaned against the door, still watching the horrific seen next to me. I pulled the handle down and I toppled out of the car. I realized I couldn't greave now, I had to run. I pulled myself of the ground and burst into a sprint. The seen replayed in my mind over and over again like a broken record as I pumped my rubbery legs down a rode. After about two minutes of sprinting down the rode I slowed down and dropped to the ground. Tears rolled down my cheek. I sat there feeling sadness, paranoia, and pity. I knew what I had to do, I had to tell the police. I suddenly sprung up and ran. I ran until I reached my house. Running through the door, I ran to the nearest phone.
My mother came into the room.
"Honey, what's wrong?"
I dialed 911.
"I want to report a murder," I said in a shaky voice.
I told the police everything, with my mother right beside me. They came over to my house, asked question then finally asked me to show them the scene. So I showed it to them. I showed them everything. But I didn't tell them about the murderers appearance, for I was still in denial of that. I kept think of its horrible rotten, sexless face. I sat there, staring at the corpse of my friend as they took him into the back of a van. And I realized, that could've been me.
And then it happened, a few weeks later. I was riding downtown on my bike. I was so happy. The R.P.D. had excepted me as a security guard for their prison. I sped into town, my bike burning rubber. I arrived at the police station, to pick up my weapon, armor, and other things. I arrived a swung myself off my bike. When suddenly I heard it. A groan. The same unearthly moan I heard when Jake had gotten killed. I froze. My senses went on high alarm, and my eyes searched for any movement at all. Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed a motion. I pivoted on my foot to face the direction. My hands shook. My heart pounded in my chest. My pulse raced. It was there. A person. But not. The same rotting skin, the same empty gaze, the same putrid smell. I froze and stared at it as it stumbled toward me. I remembered. That could've been me, and I ran. I ran towards the police station.
"No!" I yelled at myself. I realized. I had to tell someone. I wasn't going to run this time. I was going to fight. And I had just the right weapon to do it. I had recently put a shotgun holster onto my bike. It wasn't a real holster. I had just welded a piece of metal I had melted into the shape of a holster onto my bike. I snapped back to my bike, reached down, and grabbed the shotgun. Lifting it out of its make-shift holder, I put my hand on the pump, and brought it to eye level. That, thing, was in my sights. Suddenly I lowered it, for I had realized who it was. Jake, staggered towards me. My hands shook.
What? How? WHY? My mind screamed. But I didn't have time to think, because he was now five feet in front of me. I'm going to put an end to this right now. I pumped the shotgun and brought it to eye level again. Suddenly I felt something cold on my shoulder. I twisted my head to see a white bony hand perched on my shoulder. I brought my eyes up, to meet the empty sockets of another victim.