Resident Evil: The Holy Priest
Andreas turned down the radio hearing a slow inconsistent tap on the door. His heart stopped. They had found him for sure. He thought this dank, dark, dilapidated prison would keep him safe for a few days yet, at least enough time to get some sleep. That bastard had put him in a trap; he promised that they would not find him there.
Stepping over the papers that read, "POPE DECLARES IT IS ARMAGEDDON ON THE WESTERN WORLD," "SCARCE VACCINES FOR THE POOR," Andrea's loads his gun and moves slowly to the door. He looks up at the roof; faint raindrops fall through the cracks promising daylight outside. The smell of the place reeked, like something decaying lay inside. His hands began to tremble, but with only four bullets, and the fact he wasn't a good shot, meant that he couldn't afford to be nervous.
But what was that in the shadows? He had seen it as he came in yesterday but could not investigate further as he was distracted with John's instructions. That no good deserter. Why did he live him here? Where is he? The taps grew louder and continuous. More had come. Andreas noticed a thick piece of wood on the ground, and putting his guard down, trapped it between the floor and the door handle. That should hold shut…for now. Something shined on the ground near to him. It confused him that he didn't notice it earlier. He picked it up, it was a Holy Cross. "It can't do much harm," he thought, and placed it round his neck.
Andreas tried the radio once more and once more there was only feedback. He kept the radio on loud to drown out the ever increasing groaning. What was waiting for him behind that door? How many of them are there this time? His friends had spent the week fighting through this village…how did it come to this? So many questions, so little answers. But there was one puzzle that could be completed. What was that in the shadows?
Picking up his gun, checking it again for bullets, he moved slowly to the corner of the room. He hated this. If only he had not been so reckless with the torch he would not be doing this right now. He peered into the shadow and what laid before him was a long, narrow box taking up the whole side of the room. Andreas couldn't see it properly so he went to the other side of the room and smashed threw some of the roofing to let daylight poor onto it.
The box was propagated with a red fabric and a large golden cross had been sown on to the lid. A padlock kept what was inside safe. Andreas couldn't use a bullet on it, he had none to spare, so he took away the piece of wood keeping the door shut and sprinted to the other side of the room. It took several large ponds for the padlock to loosen, luckily it had grown weak with age. He sprinted to the other side of the room and placed it back locking the door. Safe.
Now it was time for the big unveiling. Andreas had been caught in stickier situations less than this, so he kept his wits close but his gun closer. The lid made no sounds as he lifted, the sunlight flowed inside and Andreas peered within. Horror. Pure, inescapable horror crept up his spine so rapidly that Andreas fell some steps back. The smell revealed itself and filled his nostrils with the worst stench he had ever had to endue. He felt light headed. It was like someone had hit him on the head with a bat. So many bodies lay inside. So many. Men, women, children. There was at least ten pilled on top of each other.
Andreas took another look. All of them had a gun hole in the head. But what disturbed Andreas the most is that these didn't look like the dead bodies he had seen that week. There eyes where not dead or soulless but had fear and existence. These people had not had the disease. The bodies on top looked unsullied, these had only died a few days ago. But the ones on the bottom caused most of the reek, they had been rotting there for days.
Stumbling back to the radio, Andreas sat down and began to weep. But the sounds outside the door reminded him that he had no time for this.
"I've got to get out of here," Andreas thought to himself. And his prayers where answered.
He peered above the box, there engraved onto the wall where slabs of wood leading up. A ladder. Andreas could hardly believe his luck. For days he had grown more and more pessimistic to the idea of luck. He had to look twice before he could believe it. Maybe he owed everything to the Cross he had found. He followed the ladder and it led to a door. An escape. "If there was a Priest here right now, I'd turn to Catholicism," he thought.
Andreas shut the lid, looking up ignoring the faces that lay inside. He stood on top of the box tentatively and began climbing up the ladder. Once he got to the top he tried pushing the door open. It was jammed. Andreas hit it harder and harder but to no avail. There really was no such thing as luck.
That's when he noticed the lock. Idiot. He pushed the lock up, sending the bar clanging to the other side. The doors pushed open effortlessly. Daylight shone and Andreas was forced to cover his eyes. He lost balance. He couldn't gain control. He fell far down to the outside. No hope now. No escape. Even if he survives the fall the infected will get him for sure. This is it. Finished.
Andrea's woke up. A woman with a kind smile peered over him and placed a cool towel on his forehead.