Been a while since I posted something, so I figure I could start with this story. It's an Alternate universe and will have some extremely dark themes in it as well as graphic violence. If that isn't your cup of tea, I suggest you stop reading now.

Flames will also not be tolerated. Kthnxbai.

Disclaimer: I do not own Resident Evil nor do I own The Outsider by A Perfect Circle

Medicated, drama queen, picture perfect, numb belligerence

2019

The soft, pitiful moans of the zombies were far off, but Rebecca Chambers refused to let herself relax. Ever since the Fall years ago, the remaining people couldn't afford to relax anymore, not even for an instant; there were much more dangerous enemies out in the world than zombies. A soft sigh escaped her lips as she carefully slid out into the open street, making sure that nothing was waiting for her before dashing to the nearby apartment building. She hated being out in the open like this, but she had started running low on medical supplies and food, so she had to leave her home out of absolute necessity. The nearest hospital was ten blocks away with a grocery store a block away from that, and the trip took her almost two hours since she had to be careful. While she hadn't seen any zombies on this side of the city for weeks, that was no reason to be reckless. She hadn't lived to be 38 by being stupid.

The backpack she carried was heavy with supplies, but by God, she relished it since the pain in her shoulders meant that she was alive. And in this desolate world, that was something.

People called it the Fall, probably believing that they were being punished by a wrathful God, but Rebecca knew better. That apocalypse hadn't been biblical; it had been man-made. Tricell had done it. After the BSAA exposed the events in Africa, leaders from all over the world scrambled to shut down the company as fast as possible, even though only one branch was known to be corrupt. They weren't stupid—after Umbrella, they couldn't afford to be, and that had taken years to completely take down. The director of the pharmaceutical branch of Tricell had a nervous breakdown, and his madness brought upon the downfall of the modern world.

On October 25, 2011, the Tricell labs located in London, Paris, Rome, Tokyo, New York City, Hong Kong, Delhi, and Washington DC released the T-Virus Albert Wesker had long given to them onto the inhabitants of the cities. They had set up small canisters of the virus in various strategic places in order to cause the maximum exposure. It had happened so fast and so suddenly that no one had been able to stop it or even foresee it. Anyone who had came into contact the vaporous virus had turned within twelve hours of contamination. Within 48 hours, the major cities had been flooded with zombies. And within a few months, countries had started falling apart.

Thinking about it made Rebecca's heart clench, and she allowed a soft sob to escape her throat as she entered the building and started up the stairs. So many people had died…Millions, god no billions had died. By 2015, most of the world's population was dead or zombified by Rebecca's calculations. Survivors were scattered all over the world, and there had been times when she had barely been able to live, caught in Germany when the infections had started to spread. Before, Rebecca had wanted to try to make it back to the Americas, but by this point, she knew that her best bet was to stay in one area she knew well and just try to keep on living.

The small city (Rebecca couldn't even remember the name anymore and it really didn't matter in the grand scheme of things) only had about 200 people still living in it. Most of them lived together, but Rebecca herself lived alone. She would help anyone who needed it, even sparing some food and water if her supplies allowed, but that was it. It was a lonely life, yes, but it was what she wanted. Her apartment wasn't fancy, but it was spacious, filled with crates of books, boxes of food and ammunitions, rows of guns already loaded on the wall, a few spare knives, clothes, but her most prized possession had to be the radio resting atop of an old desk she had found. Every single night, until she had to pass out on the small couch that served as her bed, she would broadcast a message for any of the nomadic survivors that had radios on them, all the while harboring the hope that familiar voice would reply back or even show up on her doorstep. For all she knew, the radio didn't even work, but the act gave her a little bit more faith that she wasn't completely and totally alone.

Vaguely, she knew were the rest of the STARS members and others were. Chris and Jill were in Canada; Leon was in the United States; Barry and his family were in Europe; and Claire and Sheva were in Russia. She had no idea about anyone else, and even that knowledge was flimsy at best. The last time she had had contact with any of them had been around a year or two ago. The worst of it was that she had no idea where Billy was or if he was even still alive. They had gotten separated years ago, and she had yet to have any kind of contact from him since.

Rebecca shook her head as she set her bag down and emptied it out. She couldn't afford to be sad or depressed anymore. She had to be strong, or she would die. The woman finished up and went to bathe as best as she could without running water. The cold water jolted her awake, and she quickly washed up, once again extremely happy that her rusty-colored hair was still short. Zombies had a harder time grabbing short hair.

After she was clean and dressed in simple shorts and a tanktop, she made her nightly meal of ramen and even indulged in a warm can of Pepsi. Sitting at the desk, she began her transmissions, taking pauses to eat and drink as fast as she could. Her hands played with the different papers and sticky notes littering it, each one with various notes and information she found important. The walls around it were covered with maps of the world and cities, hasty notes scrawled across the printed areas. Even a few pictures were taped to the wall, mementos that Rebecca couldn't let go. She knew that she may have to leave at any moment, but for now, this place was as much of a home that she could have.

It was two hours later when the hairs on the back of Rebecca's neck stood up on end. She stiffened, grabbing the nearest handgun she had as heavy footsteps approached her door. "H…hey!" a deep and masculine voice panted outside, fists banging on her door. "Y-You gotta help me!! PLEASE!"

Something about his tone set off every alarm in her body, but her mind was torn. She had no idea who the fuck would be out there, but she couldn't let her paranoia dominate her life. The medic in her was demanding that she help this man, and besides, if he tried anything, she could easily put a bullet between his eyes. "I'm coming!" she assured him, tensing as she heard moans of pain. The woman hurried to the door, fingers quickly starting to undo the various locks she had installed onto it.

That was when the unthinkable happened.

Pain suddenly exploded in her body as the door was suddenly kicked in, knocking it off the hinges and sending her back almost ten feet. Blood was pouring from her broken nose and mouth, a tooth resting on the floor as her body trembled with pain. Moaning, she pushed the remains of the door off of her as cruel laughter echoed in the apartment. A huge man walked in, his bulk wrapped in a black trenchcoat, lips curled up in a snarl. A gasp escaped her as she saw that one of his eyes was…glowing. It was glowing fucking red.

Tyrant, her mind screamed as she scrambled back on her hands. BOW. Monster. Freak. Killer. Murderer.

The man stopped a few feet from her, giving her a chance to take in the wicked scars marring an otherwise handsome face, the messy blonde hair, the rippling muscles, and the absolute insane glee in his surprisingly blue twin eye. "Boss," he said in a growling voice, his body seeming to shake from excitement. "Let me do it, Boss. Come on. It'll be easy. She's shaking like a fucking leaf."

He took one step forward, and Rebecca instantly remembered her gun, aiming and firing. The bullet nailed the man in the shoulder, but he just started to laugh, touching the wound and licking the blood off his fingers.

"Calm yourself, Jack," a smooth voice said from behind him, and the woman froze. "I would actually like the chance to catch up with an old friend."

No. No! Oh god, no no no NO NO NO!!!!! her mind started screaming again, her eyes widening as Albert Wesker appeared behind Jack. Memories flooded into her mind, taking her breath away greedily. Two decades had gone by since that night in the mansion, but it was something that plagued her all too often, making her wake up in the middle of the night screaming for someone—ANYONE—to save her. It was impossible though; Chris and Sheva had killed Wesker ten years ago, had left him to burn in a volcano.

And yet he stood in front of her, looking somehow regal in a simple black shirt and jeans, two magnums hanging from his hips, a huge knife holstered around his leg, and two eyes glowing brightly and looking right at her. He smirked when he saw her stunned expression, chuckling softly. "No greetings? Such poor manners, Ms. Chambers. And after all we went through together?"

Something in Rebecca snapped. "Y….YOU BASTARD!!" she screamed as she scrambled to her feet and started firing.

With impossible speed, Wesker dodged the bullets with ease, as though being in a confined space didn't bother him at all. RUN!! her mind screamed, and the woman turned, desperately trying to reach the window, to the fire escape. She was only ten steps away, she could make it, she just---

All thought escaped her as something slammed into her back and held her in place, and when she looked down, she was shocked to see a hand protruding from her chest. Rebecca opened her mouth to scream in pain, but blood poured out instead of words, staining her clothes and chin. Wesker yanked his arm back out of her body, holding it close to him as she slumped back. The woman was gasping for air, bloody bubbles popping out of her mouth, her eyes starting to glaze over.

"It'll be over soon," Wesker whispered in her ear, feeling the blood start to spill onto the bare skin of his arm, hot and metallic. "Your death won't be in vain. It will serve as a message to your old comrades." He let her go, and Rebecca let out a guttural moan as she crumbled to the floor. Her vision was starting to dim, breath coming in short hiccups as blood began to puddle beneath her.

The last thing Rebecca Chambers heard before she died was Wesker and Jack's cold laughter echoing all around her.