I had this idea a while back, but held off on it until now. This will be my first relatively serious story in a while – but at the same time, it won't be too serious. Too much seriousness gets to me, and my readers…

Anyway, it's about Barry getting stuck in a psychiatric ward, for reasons he doesn't understand, and he soon finds that there's more going on than originally suspected. And on top of that, he runs into a few familiar people. When he finally resolves that they've got to get out of there, all hell breaks loose… What will happen?

This is all based loosely on a novella I've been at for the last year, and some of the characters from it are in here… Mostly 'cause I love 'em, and I'm too lazy to make more just for this. Enjoy!

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Okay, quick disclaimer… I'm starting to do more of these things… Anyway, obviously, you know that Resident Evil and its characters belong to Capcom. Therefore, anyone who doesn't belong to Capcom (essentially everyone except the four main characters), belongs to me. Good enough.

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Say "Ahh", Please

By Burning Bridges

There was a voice close by, whispering something indistinct in a guttural trill, just barely loud enough to be heard by the human ear. It was almost impossible to believe it could have been saying anything, but sure enough, the murmur was forming words. This voice drew Barry from his sleep, the continuity of the sound almost annoying, but the tone itself threatening to lull him back into slumber. Slowly, he opened his eyes, being greeted by a faint glow from white walls.

"What?" he said, going to sit up, but falling right out of bed and onto the floor instead. "What the heck?"

He was in a room he'd never seen before, characterized simply by four white walls that formed a room little wider than two walk-in closets. To his right was a barred window, overlooking a small and desolate courtyard ending at a street engaged with morning traffic, while to his left stood a door painted in a color reminiscent of sea-foam green. Aside from the bed, the room stood empty, devoid of anything that might give it an identity.

Barry got to his feet and went to the door, peering out the screened-over glass for any sign of anything. All he could see were other doors lining the opposite wall, exactly like his, labeled with ascending numbers starting at 403. He had no idea where he could possibly be… And there was only one way to find out.

"Is anyone out there?" he shouted, hitting the door a few times with his hand. "Would someone like to explain to me where the hell I am?"

His shouting seemed to arouse the attention of whoever was in the other rooms, as he heard other voices suddenly break the quiet that the trill had filled before with. He waited, observing the hall, but still seeing nothing.

"Where on earth am I?" he said to himself, turning away and allowing his gaze to fall on the window. "How did I get here? The last thing I remember, I was walking to the bar to meet Chris…"

There was a sudden sound from behind him, and he turned to see a man in a white lab coat unlocking the door. At fist glance, this guy seemed rather unassuming. He was about Barry's height, if not an inch or two shorter, probably no older than 33, with hair that was apparently bleached blond since the roots were still a deep auburn. His expression was a paradoxical mixture of vexation and tolerance as he stepped in and forced a civil smile, closing the door behind him.

"What's the problem, Barry?" he asked in a low-tone, failing to fully disguise the irritation in his voice.

"Wait… Who are you? How do you know me?" Barry said apprehensively. He'd never seen this guy before, and he was sure he would remember someone that fit his description. The bleach-blond looked miffed.

"I'm your psychiatrist, Dr. Heilen."

Barry stared at him, still completely lost. He was also sure that he didn't know any psychiatrists, least of which, any he would go to for anything.

"I don't have a psychiatrist. Where am I, and how did I get here?" he demanded, and the doctor grinned slightly.

"You're in Olecranon Medical Facility; specifically, in the east wing of the psychiatric ward. We brought you in last night and admitted you, to keep you safe," Dr. Heilen replied matter-of-factly, not seeming too concerned by the questions he was getting.

"Safe from what?" Barry asked in disbelief.

"Yourself. You're sick, Barry, and for the meantime, you need to be somewhere that you can be looked after."

"What do you mean, I'm 'sick'? My frame of mind is perfectly normal!" Barry said loudly, and Dr. Heilen took on a mordant tone.

"Keep it down, if you please. Your shouting earlier upset the other patients, and if you don't refrain, I'll have to put you in isolation."

"Who's responsible for this?" he asked, more calmly, but maintaining an authorative tone. Barry knew his family wouldn't do this to him, and of all the people he did know who might, he didn't know of anybody who wouldn't have discussed it with him first. He didn't even have a clue of how he'd gotten here – the last thing he remembered was walking down the street. For that matter, he'd never even heard of the place…

"Now, now," the doctor said with a smile, "You'll understand everything eventually. It will be okay, trust me."

"I have a right to know - "

There was some loud screaming nearby suddenly, and Dr. Heilen glanced over his shoulder and out the door tensely.

"If you'll excuse me, I've got to be off. But someone will be around soon with your medication," he said, starting to open the door, "If you're quiet, you can walk around a little bit and get to know your new friends."

Before Barry could say another word, he left the room, making sure the door was locked and running off hastily.

"What is happening?" Barry asked himself dejectedly, crossing the room and sitting on the edge of the bed. He looked out the window again, watching cars pass the courtyard on their way to work, and wondering if anyone he knew happened to be nearby. Even if they were, he had no way of getting their attention.

"Olecranon", as the doctor had named it, stood on the corner of two streets; lined, on either side of the lot, with trees of some kind. The courtyard, which didn't seem to be cared for so well, was virtually empty of anything living, except for pale and sickly grass that had sprouted in a thin carpet over torn up dirt and rocks. The soil in the lot must have been poor in nutrients, for even the trees that lined the street started to become leafless and unhealthy-looking as they got closer to the building. The smaller structures nearby, a combination of houses and shops, almost looked sick themselves, mostly painted in shades of brown and white, except for one or two in bright pastels. This area of the city was almost ominous on a cloudy day.

Barry was so caught-up in the scenery that he didn't hear someone come in behind him, that is, until they spoke.

"I have your medicine for you."

Barry turned abruptly, startled by the sudden words. He laid eyes on a short, stocky man in white scrubs. This guy was a little younger than the doctor, with an expression that seemed to radiate merriment, and green eyes almost hidden under a mop of curly brown hair. He held his cupped hand out to Barry, coming towards him from by the door.

"Nasty day out, huh?" he asked with a pleasant smile, but Barry just looked at him weird.

"What are these for?" he questioned; looking at the two pills the guy had given him. The man just shook his head.

"I don't really know. I just started working here, and I still need to learn to recognize these things…" he explained, going back out into the hall and closing the door behind him.

Barry looked at the pills for a while. He didn't know what they were, or what they would do, but he knew he wasn't crazy. He watched the door for a minute, and when he was certain that no one was around, he stuffed the pills as far under the mattress of his bed as he could, just in time for the door to open again. He pulled his arm out, and returned to a normal sitting position. The same guy that had given him the pills came back in, and waved to him to follow.

"You can walk around now. The day room is right down the hall there."

Barry didn't reply, he just got up and slowly headed out into the hall, looking around at his surroundings cautiously. The hall was virtually empty, and quiet except for a creaking sob-like sound from the light fixtures overhead, which swung back and forth irritably for no apparent reason. The walls were a strange color of blue-green, characterized by patches of peeling paint that revealed white and yellow underneath. There was a metal door with a screened window at the end of the hall, which he guessed led to the day room.

Opening it, he was greeted by the sound of violin music somewhere nearby as he stepped in, getting a rather malevolent look from a nurse at the desk to his left. It was a normal sort of room, painted a soft crème color, and full of lounge chairs. Studying its contents, he spotted something that both thrilled and disturbed him at the same time. On the opposite side of the room, sitting in adjacent chairs, were none other than Jill Valentine and William Birkin.

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Yup, so he's not totally alone. There's one other person he's going to find there, but you won't find out whom until next time. The beginning was better than the end, but when I wrote the beginning I didn't have someone chattering to me about Golden Eye. Well, whatever. It'll improve over time.

Leave me a review, and let me know whether or not you liked it, and all that! Thanks for reading!