Here's a surprise, something not NIMH-related! My big sister loves Resident Evil 4, but she says its because she can, "Kick ass without getting in trouble, not because Leon's hot." Yeah, right, sis! Anyway, she's finished the game about a gazillion times, and I finally decided to write something for it. I'll be adding more as I go. Hope you like!
He watched the land speed by in the windows, the monotone of grays, greens, and browns a constant, quaking blur. The officers with him were talking quietly in Spanish, which, though he gave no sign of it, he understood perfectly. They were talking about various attacks that had occurred in an Amish village, the same one where the president's daughter had last been seen. At first he'd listened to the tales with earnest, but had stopped caring when they gave no mention of a petite blond girl, or anyone similar to the girl's appearance. He pulled a small photo from his back pocket, staring at it absent-mindedly.
Her name was Ashley Graham, a twenty-year-old student who had been kidnapped while on her way home from her university. She'd been alone, wearing an orange top, a green plaid skirt, and light brown boots. Her hair was a few shades lighter than his, falling to her shoulders, framing her slim face. He turned the photo, deciding she really wasn't all that attractive, but there seemed to be something about her. He just couldn't place what. He glanced up when they stopped, putting the picture away. The man not driving had gotten out, urinating into the bushes. There was a sudden chill in the air, the grey clouds above only growing thicker.
Just my luck, the blond man thought to himself. His name was Leon S. Kennedy. (The 'S' stood for Scott, not that he'd let anybody find that out.) He was twenty-seven, hired to protect the president's family. This rescue mission was his first job. He let his head fall back against the seat, ice-blue eyes falling shut as memories of the past coursed through his mind, namely the Raccoon City Incident six years earlier. He'd been a rookie officer then, barely twenty-one, thrust into a nightmarish world of zombies and demonic entities. It was there he'd first become familiar with the G-virus, as it had infected the entire town. The few survivors had been running out of safe places to hide, but they'd been afraid to leave, not wanting to spread the disease.
This shouldn't be the same. They stopped again, after going over an unstable wooden bridge.
"Just up ahead is the village," the driver said, motioning up the path. Leon nodded, stepping out into the frigid air. He pulled a handgun from a holster on his thigh, making sure the safety was off before moving forward. He wasn't surprised they didn't follow him; from their perspective they'd merely been transportation. He could feel the temperature dropping, suddenly wishing he could zip his sheepskin jacket, becoming lost in his thoughts as he continued through the trees. A large house stood in a clearing, and he knew someone was watching him as he neared it, and there was also a truck blocking the path. He knew he could climb over it, but he didn't want to risk ticking off whoever owned it, not wanting to distract himself with some mediocre fight.
It's too quiet around here, he thought. The front door was open, steps to the porch creaking under his weight. The place looked abandoned, so he stepped inside. A sudden chill ran up his spine, growing colder when he saw a man bowed over the fireplace.
"Excuse me," Leon let his hands drop, putting the gun back in its holster. "Sir?" the man didn't reply, straightening and wiping sweat from his forehead. The agent shrugged, going closer, pulling the picture from his pocket. The man turned, glaring angrily at him. He ignored it. "I was wondering if you might recognize the girl in this photograph?"
"What are you doing here?" the man hissed in Spanish. "Get the hell out!"
"Sorry to have bothered you," Leon scoffed sarcastically. He shoved the image away, looking up as the blade of an axe scrapped against stone. He leapt away to dodge its blade, somersaulting to his feet, gun back in his grasp. "Freeze," he shouted angrily. The man kept coming. "I said freeze!"
He dodged another strike, knocking the man from his feet. Blood, bone, and brain coated his hands as he shot the man's skull. They don't speak English. The roar of a motor caught his attention, and he ran to the window. The truck had come to life, skidding away down the path, screeching tires, shouts, and gunshots coming from the distance. The sounds ended abruptly with a loud crash. There were also three other villagers coming toward the house, one each with a sickle, axe, and pitchfork. The front door was blocked, so Leon looked around for another way out. He found a closet hidden under a staircase, full of skulls crawling with maggots and smelling of rotting flesh. He barely held back the bile in his throat, dashing up the stairs.
He grabbed a box of ammo from a small table, not caring how it got there, before leaping out the window. Again, he somersaulted to his feet, gun held high. I don't have all day, he thought, shooting the first man as he came near. The man fell to his knees, Leon kicking his head to pieces. He turned just as another swung down, smashing his face in with the butt of his pistol. The third one seemed to have vanished. Leon had just let his guard down when an axe spun by his head, becoming buried in a tree trunk.
What's wrong with these people? He shot the last guy down, slitting his throat just to be sure. Again, the area was far too quiet, enough so he could hear the river they'd driven over. He followed the urge to run back that way, seeing the bridge destroyed, black smoke billowing from the wreckage. Only the rusted pick up was in the ravine, with no sign but tire tracks of the officers or their van. "Oh, no…" he backed away, going back to the house. Resting beside it was an old cart with a box on it. Inside was another box of ammo, which he shoved in his attaché case. He wondered why it was lying around, but wasn't going to argue. The path to the village was silent, the only living creatures crows and a dog he'd freed from a bear trap. The wounded mutt had licked his hand, running off before he could help further.
Who left that thing lying around, anyway? He hadn't seen any bears or signs of them, guessing it must have been to keep out intruders. He moved further along, seeing a bloody signpost with two skulls hanging from it, their gaping eye sockets lashed through with rope. The sight made him shiver. He soon came to a gate, shoving it open to reveal a village a short distance away. He moved behind an old tree, pulling binoculars from his pocket. What in God's name…?
The people there appeared to be normal, chasing chickens, chucking hay, getting water from a well. But there was a large fire burning in the center, with one of the officers he'd arrived with hanging from a trunk, a sharp branch thrust through his chest. His eyes had been gouged out, jaw open in a silent, fearful scream. If only he'd come with me… He walked closer, taking a side path so he wouldn't be seen. He came upon a woman with a pitchfork, leaning on it as she wiped sweat from her forehead. He added a silencer to his gun, making sure the clip was full. He cocked it just as the woman turned. There was a look of insanity in her eyes as she lifted her weapon, but she never got a chance to use it.
He fired once, shattering her skull. The headless body staggered a moment, then fell to the ground. He was shocked to see the remains dissolve, again nearly vomiting at the stench. Something's wrong with these people, he thought, running behind the houses. He'd just reached the tower when someone shouted, a man on the roof pointing at him with a knife. Leon swarmed up the ladder, a green object catching his eye. It was a box of shells for a shotgun. What the hell's going on here? He shoved them in his pocket, thinking he could use them later. He watched the villagers swarm the tower, pulling out his knife and kneeling by the ladder. Good a shot as he was, he wasn't going to waste ammo by shooting them from up here.
They came one by one, each uttering a strange cry as he slit their throats, the bodies falling to the wooden floor below. The second they died they dissolved, bubbling into a thick brown liquid before soaking into whatever surface was beneath them. After what seemed an hour of this there was the distant crash of a church bell, calling the few survivors through a metal door with a cryptic red marking. He jumped down from the platform, running into the open just as the last of them disappeared.
"Where's everyone going?" he asked. "Bingo?" his only reply was cool wind in his face. He looked around, deciding to check the houses to see if he could find anything useful. He kept his gun drawn; watching for them, knowing at the same time the village was empty. In the end he ended up with several boxes of ammo, a few multi-colored herbs, and a shotgun that belonged in a museum. Beggars can't be choosers. He'd also found a few coins, and figured they'd come in handy, if he ever found someone civilized. He glanced once at the digital map on his communicator; there were three ways out of the village, not counting the one he'd come through, but he'd been told to follow the trail next to the tower.
Might as well see where it leads. He shoved aside the wooden gate, seeing a small farm. Chickens were running freely, and the place stank of manure. He could hear several cows mooing nearby, people muttering something about a "murderer in the village". He rolled his eyes, seeing a blue sheet tacked to a tree. The bottom half was torn, and what little writing there was said something about medallions, how shooting them would get him rewarded. He looked up to see one dangling above his head, just out of reach. His hands moved of their own accord, pulling the trigger before he knew what was happening. The next instant splinters of wood fell in his hair, the yard full of savage yelling. He looked to see several men come toward him, all but foaming at the mouth as they attempted to kill him.
What's going on here? He dodged one with an axe, pistol-whipping him in the back of the skull. Leon to the others before he fell limp, shooting one in the knee, another in the head. They kept coming as though nothing had happened. He noticed they were pushing him back toward the gate, and shoved his way between them. He ran closer to the barn, barely dodging an attack from a woman. She shrieked in fury, the sound cutting off as he slashed her throat. It seemed to be the only way to kill them easily, though with the men it usually took more than one swipe. By that time the two from before had caught up, and three more had joined them. He thought quickly, going back to the gate and pulling out the shotgun. He'd almost forgotten he had it. He waited for them to get close, then pulled the trigger.
The force of recoil surprised him, even more when he saw them get up, again like nothing had happened. Whatever these people were, they were certainly persistent. This is insane. He fired again, this time when a capped man was right in front of him. He looked down at the gaping hole in his stomach, before suddenly falling dead. Leon didn't watch while the corpse dissolved, having to kill off the others. He'd made the mistake of thinking they could be scared off. It should have been obvious from the scene in the village: these people meant to kill him, and wouldn't give up until they were killed first.
When at last they'd fallen dead, he couldn't help but notice how quiet it was. He suddenly wished he had an Ipod, or something he could use to distract himself, so he wouldn't have to think about this eerie silence. But then he realized how stupid it sounded. He couldn't afford to be distracted, especially since he hardly ever heard those guys coming. Having music blare in his ears would be suicide. Besides, he had a mission to focus on. Finding Ashley was his top priority, not keeping himself entertained. He took out the photo, seeing a girl with blond hair and hazel eyes. She'd been kidnapped a couple months before her twenty-first birthday, and she'd been trapped here for almost three. He tried to envision what she'd been wearing, instead getting an image of a gorgeous girl in skinny jeans, a dark leather jacket, sleeveless orange top, and brown suede boots. He wondered who it was, hearing a rumbling behind him.
It was a boulder. He sprinted, leaping away and watching as it crashed into a wall of rock, breaking into pieces. He looked inside a tunnel, seeing a house on the other side. There were also two things glistening in the curved roof. He shot them down, frightening the bats, causing them to fly around his head, annoying the crap out of him. Through the cloud of wings he could see a man standing by the house, a stick of dynamite clasped in his hand. Leon shot without thinking twice, watching the man scatter from the explosion. Again, every bit of the body dissolved, even the blood spatters. It seemed to be a signal.
I'll make them come to me. He stood in the tunnel, turning when he heard them. Baring gritted teeth, he again pulled out the shotgun, waiting for just the right moment...
"Ahhh!" Dynamite exploded in front of him, sending him flying back. He managed to catch himself with his hands, flipping to his feet. He brought up the gun, blasting the closest one before the man had a chance to react. The blast sent them all flying, some into a trap planted in a shed. A massive blast threw him back the moment their bodies connected with the slim black wire, breath fleeing his lungs as he was thrown on his back. He lay there a minute, stunned, groaning as the bodies around him dissolved into slush and soaked into the earth. He waited a second before getting up, wanting to make sure the area was empty. All he heard were crows and the wind, and a strange banging coming from the other side of the yard.
What is that? He moved toward the other house, using a rock to break the padlock holding the door shut. The large front room was cluttered with furniture, and looked as though it'd just gone through a fire. The banging grew louder, but something told him to watch his step as he went down the hall. He soon saw why: two more dynamite threads strung to the walls. He shot them both, shielding his face from the blasts. The banging got even louder, and he pushed aside a bookshelf that was sitting in front of an open doorway. Turning the corner revealed a large wardrobe, which was moving around as though someone were trapped inside. He moved forward slowly, going to one side as he unlocked the doors. A black-haired man fell to the floor, shaking his head and grunting, wide-eyed when he saw the gun pointed at him. Leon knelt down, ripping off the duct tape that held te man's mouth shut. He gasped in pain.
"Ah!" he was lightly panting. "A little ruff, don't you think?"
Leon rolled the man on his stomach, undoing the rope that bound his hands.
"You're...not like them?" the man asked.
"No, you?" Leon pulled the rope off, and the man rolled away, rubbing his wrists.
"Okay," he said. "I have only one, very important question. You got a smoke?"
Leon smirked. "Got gum."
They were interrupted by loud stomping. They looked to see a huge man in a black trench coat, with a false red eye that glared even more harshly than his real one.
"Perfect," the black-haired man was still sitting, supporting himself with his hands. "TheBig Cheese."
"What?"
It was then Leon noticed the two armed men behind the giant. He ran forward, gearing up for a roundhouse kick, only to have his foot caught in midair. He gasped in shock, only to be thrown head-over-heels into the Spaniard, the force sending them both into the wardrobe and shattering it. Both were out cold instantly.
So, this chapter is finally over, which means now the story really begins!
BTW, and I know this is a bit early to ask, but how would you guys feel about a sequel? I was gonna do a crossover of this and the original Yu-Gi-Oh!. What do you think? PM or review!