Prologue
July, 2010. Twelve long years since the hellish incident that took place in Raccoon city. The city that was brought down by the pharmaceutical company, Umbrella. Their development of the T-virus had escaped out into the sewers, creating zombies and monsters. Survivors of that day became devoted to the destruction of Umbrella and all the companies that were associated with it, promising that someday, they would bring it down. Chris Redfield, a surviving S.T.A.R.S. member from Raccoon City, was the head-honcho on the job, clearly giving up precious time in his life to make the world a safer place. Once the death of Wesker had come about the world, he could finally rest. Although, this was not an option for him, he wanted to be sure that everything was finished. but the B.S.A.A could not allow him to work further because he was destroying himself. Chris was given a break from the B.S.A.A. Sadly, Chris wasn't very excited about this, and threw a tantrum while he was getting his vacation slip. The company demanded that he take a break, and that he was to relax on his vacation, much to his dismay, he was forced to take the vacation and was quickly hustled onto a plane leaving for Brookland without much effort from his partner, Jill Valentine.
Three hours later.
Chris was seated in a large airplane, stuck next to the window with his head tilted onto the glass giving himself a clear view of his own reflection. Jill Valentine occupied the seat next to his, she held up a magazine close to her face and drowned her eyes into the text filled pages; she was completely absorbed with the magazine, so much that she didn't even notice the glum Chris that sat next to her. He was slouched over, muscles slightly smaller over the year that he hadn't been as active in the B.S.A.A and a fine beard coated his normal, clean-shaved face. His eyes were clinging desperately to the image he reflected in the window, and his head bobbed lightly every time he could feel himself growing tired. His eyes were hazy like a drunkard's, but he was not drunk, only lost in the caverns of his old, tired mind that somehow couldn't receive rest.
...Nightmares were still plaguing him.
It was an entire year after the death of Wesker, but he could still sense that he was alive. Wesker had escaped one too many deaths. The oldest Redfield obsessed over this. To the point that he spent three months in an asylum, trying to work out his own problems; had it not been for his long-time partner, Jill, he might have even blown his brains out before recovery. For an odd reason, he couldn't shake the fact that he thought-more like he knew-that Wesker was not actually dead, and for that reason, his mental capability was stressed until it felt like it was being torn. This was the reason that his employers finally decided to give him a vacation. He needed it, and even as much as he protested, he knew that he needed it, too. Glumly he sat there as his thoughts proceeded, Chris heaved a sigh while thinking about what might happen if Wesker wasn't really dead, he was sure that Wesker would attack the B.S.A.A. in his absence first. It made him shudder.
His head hurt recently, large pounding headaches or migraines that wouldn't stop for hours, he never mentioned it to anyone, and kept the headaches to himself. He was sure that they were just from shock. Due to this, he leaned over placing his elbows on his knees and ran his large hands through his feathery brown hair only to rub his eyes in distress, trying to shake the upcoming headache before it started. Chris's sudden movements alerted the once entranced Jill to look past her magazine and at the tired face of her partner.
"Are you alright, Chris?" She asked seriously while placing a hand on his shoulder to console him gently. In reply, Chris rolled his shoulders and leaned his head back.
"...Just nervous. You know how I get." The Redfield didn't want to worry his partner, so he lied with a smile playing on his face. Jill seemed skeptical as she tilted her head at his remark, knowing that he was just dodging the actual problem. She didn't protest further.
"Well, we'll be arriving soon..." she paused and looked back at her magazine. "So if you have to puke, do it after we land."
Chris chuckled at what his long time partner said, and turned back toward the window to once again stare into his own aging image. This left Jill to herself, again. She released sigh that went unnoticed by Chris. Their conversations were always short and meaningless since she arrived back at the B.S.A.A a year ago. Chris was never as talkative as he once was, and most of the time she felt like she was talking to a wall. Jill prayed this trip would break him of that.
It was, after all, a special trip for her and Chris, along with the rest of the survivors of Raccoon City.
Cleaning was evil, or so that's what the red head standing in front of thousands of dust bunnies thought as she clenched a rag in her right hand. Her expression was exaggerated as her icy blue eyes glared at the dust that habituated her coffee table.
"...Someday I'm going to get a man to do this for me..." The university student muttered while she slammed the rag onto the dust bunnies, turning the rag brown as she rubbed it against the surface of the coffee table. After a moment, she smiled and rose to her feet, glad to finally have the chores done while she tossed the dirty rag behind her couch.
"Now that the cleaning is done, I can finally relax for a few minutes!" said the woman exhausted as she yawned, stretching her arms.
Earlier that day, for nearly three and a half hours, the woman cleaned her apartment until every object was spotless. The lady was expecting company, so her normal life of living in dirt was put on hold for the day. A triumphant smile played the woman's lips while she fluffed up couch pillows. She was proud of herself for cleaning, even if nobody would notice. Allowing herself another moment to bask in her own self-proclaimed glory, she left for her kitchen and then came back with a can of Coke-cola in her hand. Gently humming a light tune under her voice, she plopped onto her red couch allowing her legs to rest on the just cleaned coffee table. She popped open her can of soda and took one big swig of it.
"Man, that hit the spot.." Her voice broke the silence while she closed her eyes.
She hung her head back in relaxation, letting the cold fizzy-liquid settle in her stomach, she breathed out in relief and then flipped herself over to her phone which rested on an end table that sat near her couch. There was only a single message on the machine, which didn't surprise her, she was both unlisted and didn't give her phone number out to a lot of people. She clicked a button on the phone and let the answering machine run as she got up from her seated position and walked over toward the window. Entranced by the sun, her eyes glistened at the same time as she leaned against the windowsill in order to stare down at the city folk that moved down below her apartment that rested on the fourth floor.
The message started soon after.
"Hey, Claire! We're just getting on the plane so we'll be at your place in a few hou-" The message cut lightly and whispering was heard a moment later, squabbling over the phone, to be exact. Upon hearing the squabbling, Claire glanced over at her phone, a small smirk rising on her lips as she quirked an eyebrow.
"Jill, why don't we h-"
"Shut up Chris, it's your sister! You should be glad she's taking tim-" the phone cut out and the sound of shuffling could be hear from the other side.
"..Point taken, but c'mon let me-"
"Shut up!" barked Jill in a low whisper interrupting Chris mid-sentence. A couple of complaints later and the sound of something being thrown, the caller returned to the actual message, clearing her throat.
"Sorry about that, I'm sure you know how Chris gets.. Anyways are you still going to be picking us up at the Airport? or should we be taking a taxi...? I'm sure you're busy with school work and everything..." Jill's voice trailed off when the flight attendant started announcing their plane was about to take off in the background.
"Shit!" an exasperated Jill mumbled into the phone. "I guess I'll just call you when we get off the plane, you can tell us then! Bye, Claire!" came a yell before the phone clicked and the message ended.
Claire snorted in retort to her brother's comments on the message. Jill and Chris were always like that, they always bickered in some shape or form, or at least they did now-With Chris sulking like he has been doing recently, Claire would be in the mood for bickering, too. She heaved a sigh and chuckled. Leaning on her wall next to the window, her eyes fell gracefully onto a picture that hung right beside her, one that bore her and Chris from when they were kids.
She missed those days.
"I wonder if he's really okay..." remorse reflected in her voice as she moved toward the picture. Tenderly, she reached out and touched the picture for only a moment, but then drew her hand back as fast as it had come.
She bit her lip and clenched her fists, stepping away from it-moving toward the clothe rack. She gathered together a few items and slipped on an over coat to cover her black tank top. The image that was on the jacket reminded her a lot of the old days back in Raccoon city, "Made in Heaven". Although when the jacket touched her shoulders, she instantly shuddered and abruptly tossed it away a moment later. She wasn't really in the mood to wear that jacket anymore. In fact, she wasn't really in the mood to wear what she was wearing anymore, she felt dirty and realized that she hadn't showered since she awoke that morning.
The Redfield rushed to her bathroom to clean herself up, taking a fast shower to clean the day's work off of her. And then like usual, she pulled her hair into her traditional pony tail. She stared into the mirror for awhile, staring at her aging face for only a moment before glazing on a light coat of make-up. Even though she wore it, she wasn't sure why she bothered with making herself look pretty, the only people that she was bound to see was Chris and Jill, maybe Rebecca if she decided to come. She stared at her image and her eyes narrowed slightly, she didn't want them to think she wasn't taking care of herself properly, or that's what she told herself as an excuse to why she put it on. Knowing that she was running out of time now, she jolted off into her room to slip into a nice pair of jean-shorts and a long-sleeve T-shirt, red in color and a V-neck. Grabbing a pair of her favorite red boots, she slid them on her feet and stood up with one loud sigh.
"This is as good as it's going to get." She told herself giving a short glance toward a mirror.
The young Redfield was anxious about going to the reunion that almost everyone from the Raccoon city incident would be attending. Honestly, she was happy to be getting together with a bunch of old friends. That was something that she didn't get often while being a student.. plus there was less awkward conversation going on while she was with fellow survivors, at least they always had something to talk about.
Claire sighed and gave a frustrated look into the mirror, it really had been a long time since she got out. This would be a first for nearly two years. Thus, straightening her shirt out and brushing off any wrinkles that might have been on her shirt, she started toward the door grabbing her keys off the dresser as she went by. But like most of her escapes, mid-step she was interrupted as the phone started to ring.
Claire groaned and figured it was Chris and Jill, so she didn't answer and instead she continued gathering a few last minute things, her coke included.
...but then the message started to go off.
Rather startled, Claire stared at the phone gripping the doorknob for dear life. The corners of her mouth twitched.
"Hey, Claire? ...It's me," The voice boomed from the other side, "I know you're there... so can you pick up the phone?" The voice pleaded.
She could just leave now and pretend like she never heard the message... or she could answer, save herself possible trouble; she bit her lip, there was in a knot here. The person on the phone was supposed to be attending the reunion... but that didn't mean she had to get him if he did something stupid. She narrowed her eyebrows and then finally gave in, throwing her hands up and dropping the soda on her clean floor. Claire marched over to the phone, letting her heels dig into the carpet of her apartment and snatched up the phone placing it next to her ear without letting the voice say a thing, she answered in an exasperated voice:
"What do you want?"
The reply: "...Same thing as usual."
Author's Note (update 7/22/2010 ): For all intensive purposes the prologue has been edited and changed to an extent. The story title has also been changed (Which is why I did this all to begin with. ) because I found it fit better with the story then what "REunion" did (I finally know where I'm going with the story now. ) A few errors have been edited out. Chapter two has been merged with this one as to complete the prologue. I'm sorry for this inconvenience but I decided it would throw the story into place better and not many people would be as confused to why it started with Chris & Jill. The prologue is now complete and a new chapter will be added shortly.
-NINT