Disclaimer: I do not own any part of Resident Evil 4. All of that belongs to Capcom, sadly. Don't sue me!
Author's Note: Hello and thank you for reading the first chapter of 'Resident Evil Four- Different Standpoints'. I'm sure that there are plenty of self insertion stories on but, frankly, I don't care. ^-^ This is something a friend and I are writing for fun. Please enjoy and leave behind any comments/ constructive criticism. I could definitely use the help. Thanks!
Some people think it's weird that I can sleep like a baby after shedding the blood of innocents or, helping people with less than noble causes on a daily basis. I say, 'What the hell. You only live once...' So why not make the best of it? Besides, their only looking at the negative aspects anyway. Let me list some of the positives:
*extensive travels to exotic locations
*freaking awesome pay
*situations that will teach valuable skills (like, sneaking into a high security secret lab in order to steal highly classified, if confusing, lab notes...)
* working with people a little out of the ordinary (I.e crazy megalomaniac assholes who want world domination…)
* an awesome job title (Come on! Not everyone can call themselves a Secret Agent with a straight face and mean it...)
See? That doesn't sound so bad, does it? Sure, I have a higher percentage of getting shot, dying in a fiery blaze, or breaking a nail, but in the end its all worth it.
Well, at least that's what I'm telling myself as we drive over yet another pothole and jump a foot in the air only to freefall back onto the hard seats of the old, beat up Toyota Camry.
"Fuck, I think my ass will be permanently molded in this stupid seat," Andrea grumbles.
"Yeah, well, it won't matter when we burn this bitch to the ground." I reply.
It doesn't help that the air conditioning is out and the CD player doesn't work either. For the past three hours we've been listening to nothing but static and whatever random words we can make out.
The folded map of Spain lies uselessly in my lap with words scrawled randomly and lines in various colors marked along potential trails. Since I can't read a map to save my life and I had been driving for the passed two days, it was Andrea's job to be both the map reader and driver for the remainder of the trip.
Which, seeing as our last pit stop was about half an hour ago, we should be reaching soon.
"Look, a bridge."
My focus switches from scratching at the scab on my finger to the dirt road up ahead and I see the bridge Andrea mentioned. Even from about thirty feet away I can see the rotting wood and less than stable looking rope barely holding it all together.
"Stop the car," I demand. We slow to a halt just a few feet away from the bridge and I untangle myself from the seat belt to stand outside. A slight wind blows unexpectedly and sends a chill throughout my body. Rubbing at my arms for heat, I stand at the start of the bridge and stare over the edge of the cliff.
Holy shit. It's a good three hundred feet fall before hitting what looks to be a shallow river. I take a step back and sigh.
"How is it?" Andrea asks, re-tying her dark, shoulder length hair into a tight pony tail.
"A long drop to hell." She scoffs and takes a peek over the edge. Her eyes widen.
"You weren't kidding."
"Would I kid about something as serious as our potential deaths?"
"Yes."
"… I don't know what to say to that."
"Hah, that's a first."
"Shut up."
Her fist lashes out and knocks me on top of the head. My open hand instantly slaps at her arm. Soon we're rolling around on the ground, leaves and fists flying. Her knee lands a particularly hard blow to my stomach as I yank relentlessly at her hair.
"Really, Francesca? Hair pulling?" she mutters between clenched teeth.
"Whatever gets the job done. Isn't that our motto?"
"Oh, shit, the job!" With one last slap at my butt she gets unsteadily to her feet and hobbles away towards the car. Still laying on the ground, I toss a small rock and watch it 'thunk' successfully against the back of her head.
"Hey!"
~-~-~
After one last tussle we clean ourselves up and ready our gear for a hike through the woods. I slip on a pair of black, finger less gloves and give myself one last look over in the compact mirror I brought.
Black hair falls in silky straight strands a bit below my shoulder blades and dark eyes lined with a thin layer of black kohl. My face is slightly round with a beauty mark on the right side, just beside my nose. I'm a bit on the short side, standing at a proud 4'11", but what I lack in height I make up with attitude.
For this mission I'm wearing a pair of black combat boots, tan colored skirt, and a form fitting black tee shirt. Not exactly reasonable now that I think about it, but its all I have left after driving endlessly for a week straight with almost no contact with more modern appliances. Hell, we were lucky the last motel we stayed at had a shower!
I strap a handgun to belt holster and a knife at my thigh. I absently brush off some dirt from my naturally tan arm and watch Andrea strap on a gun of her own. We're dressed similarly but instead of a skirt she's wearing a pair of shorts and shoulder holster.
Her pale face is flushed with the excitement of a new mission and, as our eyes meet, we share a grin.
"Let's go kick some ass!"
~-~-~
"Are we there yet?" I moan. The bridge was easy enough to cross, if a bit nerve shattering after Andrea's foot fell through one of the rotting boards, and it seemed as if the trail would never end. I can be patient for only so long…
Andrea sighs and pulls out a small PC like gadget. We had long ago abandoned the useless map and instead hooked up a satellite mapping program.
"Just about another mile or so," she informs. About ten minutes later we arrive at an old two story house with blood splatters all over the front yard.
"Well, this is a bit out of the ordinary, eh?"
"I wonder what could have caused this," Andrea mutters and kneels down to study the small puddles.
"I'll take a look in the house." I say and un-holster my gun. At her distracted nod I sprint for the house and silently push open the rickety door. I do a quick and quiet search of the first floor.
A large man lies face down in a pool of blood in what could be considered the kitchen. A series of bullet holes spread across his upper chest is obviously the cause of death. I roll him over and gasp as eyes filmed over with a thin milky layer stare at the ceiling. I take a few steps back and tap at the small ear piece in my right ear.
"I found a dead body on the first floor kitchen area. Bullet wounds cause of death. You might want to come check it out."
"Roger that. On my way." About a minute later Andrea shows up and does an examination of the body.
"This guy looks horrible," she mutters.
"Doesn't smell too good either," I joke. She smirks and digs a tiny camera from the small black bag on her back.
"Have you already checked the upstairs?" she asks, snapping a picture of the body.
"Not yet. Want to come with?" She nods and tucks the camera back into her bag. With me taking the lead we quickly ascend the stairs and secure the second floor. It doesn't take long because there is only one room which contains a lonely table and broken window.
"Looks like the window was broken from the inside. See how there isn't any glass on the floor? It's all on the outside…"
"But who would be crazy enough to jump through a window from the second floor?" I ask. Andrea shrugs.
We go back down stairs and leave the empty house, having no further reason to stay. The map shows a long trail leading to a small village so we continue to follow the path .
"Whatever killed that guy must still be around here," Andrea says. "We have to be careful…"
"Just what we need," I reply. "Some psycho going on a killing spree."
~-~-~
"Jesus Christ this door is heavy!" I puff out, sweat sliding down my face and legs aching. Somewhere, off in the distance, I can barely hear the ring of a bell.
"Again!" Andrea pants. "One, two, three!" Together we shove against the double iron doors with little success. This time the door budges a good two inches.
"This isn't working." I frown. "Time to change tactics."
After a good five minutes of discussion we finally settle on a way to get by the doors.
"Ready?" I ask, a large grin on my face. Andrea gives a double thumbs up and I pull the pin from the grenade in my hand. I toss it a good ten feet and it lands in front of the metal doors, exploding on contact.
We wait for the dust to settle before examining my handy work. The doors are successfully open, barely holding on by the blackened hinges. We happily walk through them.
"One of our best ideas yet." Andrea says brightly.
It doesn't take long for us to reach the deserted little village named 'Pueblo'. My fingers itch towards the gun strapped to my thigh, but settle for tapping at my waist.
"It's quiet," Andrea observes.
"Too quiet." We mutter together.
"Jinx! You owe me a soda!" Andrea shouts.
"Shit…"
Turns out the whole village is completely abandoned save for a random chicken here or there and a couple cows.
"Come 'ere, chicky chicky. Come to mama…" The red laser of my gun lands steadily on my prey's feathered body and just as I'm about to pull the trigger something lands with a 'thump' in front of me.
"What the hell…" It's a box of handgun ammo.
"That's your half!" Andrea shouts from the second floor of one of the houses. Her eyes are bright with discovery as she disappears from view. She's spent the last half hour wandering through every house looking for anything of use like food, ammo, or information on the Las Plagas sample we're supposed to retrieve.
Meanwhile I've been trying to shoot this damn chicken that keeps getting away from me. Damn chicken…
"Heads up!" Another box of ammo lands at my feet, this time it's shotgun. I stash it away in my brown back pack.
"Are you done yet?" I shout. "Yeah, I think I've found everything."
"I hope so. We've been here forever."
"I'm the only one whose done anything useful!"
"Nuh uh. I've done plenty of useful stuff while you played treasure hunter."
"Oh, yeah? Like what?" I bristle at the skepticism and cross my arms.
"Well, while you were collecting ammo for a gun we don't even have, I found out that the door with that weird insignia is locked."
"You Ding Dong, I'm the one who told you!"
"That's what I let you think."
"… That doesn't make any sense!"
"Exactly…" Amusement flashes in her eyes.
"Whatever. Let's go."
We skip the locked double doors and follow yet another dirt road that leads out of the village and into some sort farm area. A bunch of barns and more cows are spread around the land which look, oddly enough, to have been recently tended to.
"How odd. Where do you think everyone's gone?" Andrea asks, scanning the completely deserted area.
"Dunno. The local strip club?"
"Aren't you a bit late for your shift then?" She chuckles.
"Ha ha. I'm just dying of laughter. Don't you have some rocks to check under?"
"Touché. Actually, I think we'd just be wasting valuable time. Let's move on."
We follow the path on the right and wander through the double doors.
"You'd think that they'd pave some of these roads. All this dirt isn't good for-" A loud rumbling interrupts my rant and the earth shakes violently which knocks my balance off. As I fall I grab onto Andrea and take her down with me. We land in a pile of limbs and I can just catch a glimpse of what looks like a boulder before Andrea's foot smacks into my face.
"Damnit woman! Get off me!"
"You're the one who pulled me down!"
"Hey, if I'm going down I'm dragging you with me!"
"Then don't fucking complain!" We manage to untangle ourselves and get unsteadily to our feet. "What the fuck was that?!"
"I think it was a huge rock." I mutter angrily, poking a tender spot on my cheek. I hope it isn't bruised…
"Wha-" CRASH! What sounds like thunder echoes through the gray sky, causing both of us to jump at the unexpected noise.