No Light, No Light
Disclaimer: I own nothing, Resident Evil belongs to Capcom. The title belongs to Florence and The Machine. I do own Sìleas though :). The cover image is edited by me. The references can be seen here and here.
A/N: Well hello there everyone! Here's my first (published) RE fic that I hope you all enjoy. Please, review/critique it is always helpful. I've attempted chapter stories before, but have never been able to stay… Interested in them, but I couldn't sleep without writing and publishing this. Oh, and Sìleas is a Celtic name pronounced sh-LEES. Without further ado, here's chapter one!
Footsteps. They were distant, so faint, like rain on a window pane. Soft, soft, soft.
Red. So red, red, red. Everywhere it was, covering the world in harsh contrast, dividing life and death, but breaching the boundary like a bridge. Life and death mingled like old lovers, in my chest. Inhale life came, but in that limbo between breaths, that one moment when you think that was your last breath, death would slumber, grinning its wicked smirk, beckoning you. And then, suddenly, life would come, brushing her lips against her lost lover. This was their dance, their wicked union and I was the stage for it. I could feel my life slipping down my cheeks in the form of crimson, slipping between my fingers and pooling in the curve between my breasts. As it sprinted out faster, I felt life slipping, her lover reaching his climax.
And then there was sky, sweet air beneath and around me, my blood being vacuumed back into my body like a vortex. Death ebbing, life grinning as she triumphed over her lover. Strength surrounded me and then, darkness took me like a welcome friend.
Sìleas
The fire crackled, warming my fingers as I sat in the simple living room. It was like all the others we had stayed in, bare and minimal, void of any human objects except a notebook packed with notes sitting on the coffee table. I knew better than to think it would have anything valuable, however, it was probably just had more of Master's wondering thoughts and experiments in it; things he wanted to do, but never could. It was comforting though and smelt of lead and leather. The stiff couch beneath me felt more wooden than cushion, but it served its purpose, I suppose… Though my back was beginning to ache. Wait for me. He had said, well how bloody long was I meant to wait?
With a sigh of frustration I attempted, yet again, to make myself comfortable, but soon realized that that would be about as easy as learning Chinese. I crossed my arms as if trying to contain my annoyance, he really thought that he could do as he pleased. Sure, he was beyond human and intimidating… Well, intimidating to most people, but he certainly didn't have any right to leave someone waiting for even half as long as I had been sitting there. I saw how other people reacted to him, frightened and always so serious. Like he had no soul or he would devour their's given half the chance. Honestly, I didn't understand it. He wasn't kind, but he wasn't scary, he was just… Master, but these cowardly people had given him every leave to be an arrogant prick and God knows he needed no more help with that.
As I stewed the door slowly opened revealing the very man. He was tall, lean and blonde, wearing his typical glasses and leather trench. The firelight made him seem almost ominous as he strode easily across the white carpet, but I knew better. I leaped to my feet, "About time! You may think that letting other people wait is ok, but not me, y'hear?" I wanted to say, but all that came out was, "You needed to see me, Master?" in my easy Scottish drawl.
It was weird. Master never frightened me or forced me to do anything, yet something about him demanded respect and loyalty. I would sit and think of things to say to him, to scream at him, but they would never come out. Yet, by the twitch in his jaw, I knew he understood the words left unsaid. It was always like that, like I was a book and he read me at leisure.
"Yes, indeed I did." He said, lowering himself down on the couch, "I need you to do something for me."
My heart fluttered and filled with pride as it always did, "What is it?"
It wasn't until now I noticed the folder that he was holding. He laid it down on the table, opening the manila cover to reveal a gruesome image inside. Once the blood would have made me flinch, but after living with Master for so long I had grown accustomed to it. It was a zombie attack, I could see instantly, but as I shifted through the files I couldn't understand why he was showing me this. It seemed routine enough, multiple zombie attacks in a small town, but it had already been neutralized.
"You are thinking that it seems routine, but it is not. This is was the first test of the new virus and obviously did not go as planned."
I nearly scoffed, it certainly did not. This new virus was meant to transform people into something like Master himself, though not as powerful. It was meant to form a new evolution of humans, not turn them into mindless killing machines.
"You need me to go and get samples, statistics and the like?" I asked, flipping the folder closed.
Master grinned, "This is why you are precious, dear heart."
He cupped my face like I was valuable property and stood, the conversation clearly over.
"When do I leave?"
"Tonight, we need those samples before the BSAA get themselves involved. For now, the virus should avoid detection, but if the evidence is not destroyed soon I'm afraid my plans will need to move faster-."
"And knowing Chris he's probably already on his way." I completed for him.
"Precisely. " He said, grinning again.
I shook my head and chuckled, "It is always Redfield, I swear."
"Indeed, it is. Your plane will be ready at midnight, the second lane."
With that he turned from the room and melted back into the darkness. With a sigh I rose, trying to ease the knots out of my neck. It was already eleven and I had to pack for a trip that could last a week or more. Not to mention packing all the sample collectors, weapons, food, and extermination gear I would need to bring. Master had never been known for giving anyone a proper warning, but hell he was late and sending me half way across the world in less than an hour.
The plane was one of the smaller ones in Master's ownership, but was plenty large for a one man mission. I knew I drew stares when I left alone, everyone else who did business for him had at least one partner, but not I. I was his favorite, his pet, the one who handled everything he couldn't trust anyone else with. The weight of such a responsibility was hardly felt because of the pride in my heart, but sometimes I would think "What would happen to him if I was ever captured?" That was barely a possibility though; they'd have better luck capturing Master himself… Well, maybe not, but it would be almost an equivalent feat.
With everything loaded, I let the midnight air leaf through my hair before boarding the plane. The pilot jumped in and said virtually nothing, but said all with his eyes as he stared at me reproachfully. It was the eyes of everyone when I was garbed in my black tank, leggings and converse. The only other accessories I allowed were the small stiletto daggers at my sides, magnum on my hip and the silver chain I never took off. It had no ornament and was rusting with age, but it was the only thing that reminded me that I was someone before he found me. The getup meant that I was on a mission and when I was on a mission, it was always important.
The engine burst into life as we sped down the lane and butterflies escaped in my gut as we climbed into the sky. Sleep gnawed at my lids ever so lightly, but I pulled out the manila folder and began scanning the report. Seemed the "outbreak" was planted in a small African village with a name too difficult to pronounce. Master said that something in the African blood allowed the virus to process quicker, but I didn't really concern myself with the details. That was his domain, I much preferred Shakespeare. Of course, it was another mass test of the virus that didn't go as planned. In the notes it said that at least 80 percent of the population was infected, none became "superhuman," they just disintegrated into madness. Most had been dispatched, but some infected still lingered in the village while others had been captured for further testing. The survivors had already been corralled and were in the process of being brainwashed, he didn't need anything escaping the confines of the project. The other threat would be BSAA agents. I had faced them before and even had close run ins with Chris Redfield, but still they were always an enemy to be weary of. They were quick to react and slow to talk. I assumed I would run into at least one group towards the end of the visit, hopefully the new virus would be confined before they arrived.
I formulated my plan as I read the over descriptive notes taken by Master, skimming over the words that looked like gibberish. Some of it simply wasn't meant for me. I leaned back in my chair, half watching the shitty comedy on the tely before slipping into a fitful sleep.
Dawn came too soon, splitting into my eyes like a rude guest and I sat up irritably. Running a hand over my face I glared at the small black bag beside me. If it wasn't for those bloody injections I could sleep past dawn every now and again, but no. They must be taken at exactly 5:45 every bloody morning. I reached the small distance between me and the pilot and shut the curtain, pulling the bag into my lap and unzipping it. Much like Master's own virus, mine was a special combination that fit my body. It gifted me with violet eyes, instead of red, and was not as powerful as his, but it served the purpose it was meant to. I was given more speed than strength, fewer physical mutations, balance and an incredible weightlessness. It was a virus built for an assassin, not a leader. It still required a daily injection to stay stable and, since Master's stability for his virus was much more important, I hardly expected that to change anytime soon. Bracing myself I injected the small vile into my skin, watching the teal liquid flourish and almost glow beneath my skin. A shiver rushed through me and for a few moments I lost control of my body, but the feeling past and I placed the empty syringe back into the bag.
The sun was rising across the Atlantic Ocean, pale blue mixing with the last bits of midnight purple like an artist's pallet. Even orange was beginning to come out of its cocoon and spread itself across the eastern sky. It was a never ending cycle, the sun would always rise no matter what the day was down below. Should the world be afire with chaos and Armageddon, still the sun would rise sharing its eternal beauty with the world. It made me feel so small, so feeble, like the great plans that Master had for the world were not important because the sun would always rise. Yet… Master was like the sun, beautiful and unchanging never ceasing to reach his goals. There would always be viruses and plans and it was comforting, that he would always be. Even if I was torn away or killed, it wouldn't matter because he would still be.
Buzzzz, buzzzz. My phone vibrated, breaking my train of thought. Pulling it out of my pocket, I instantly answered upon seeing the name.
"Mornin', Jeremy." I said easily.
"Hey, you, how've you been?"
"Oh the usual, it's been dreadfully boring sitting around and bein all cooped up all the time, though. Master has hardly sent me out, I'm excited to see ya again, though, lad. How's the fort bein holdin up?"
"It's been hot and pretty boring… Up until last week. Wesker really did one in for us sending this virus."
"Has the BSAA become involved yet?"
"Not yet, but they've been asking around. They'll be here soon enough. What was he thinking, Sìleas? He already knew t-Veronica worked, why infect an entire village?"
"You know I wouldn't answer you even if I knew." I said reproachfully, reminding Jeremy of his place.
"That's true, I suppose. Anyway, we're expecting you here in about four hours. We'll then take a car out to the village, I'm assuming you want to see it before examining the subjects?"
"Absolutely. I want to clean up and look around, make sure there's no one snooping."
There was a pause, "Why… Why did he send you, Sìleas? We already have it under control. It was a simple outbreak, easily handeled."
"It is not my place to question Master, Jeremy, I just do as he says as should you. I'll see you soon."
I immediately hung up the phone, returning it to the bag. Jeremy was a nice fello, he didn't cringe when he saw me nor stare into my violet eyes with hatred or uncertainty. He didn't treat me different than anyone else, he was loyal to Master and was the closest thing I had to a friend. He just… Asked too many questions. At first it was "When did you meet Wesker?" or "What was it like before you met him?" Both of which I answered with "I don't know." But lately, it had turned into "What was Wesker's next plan?" and so forth. I didn't mind the questions about my past because I could simply answer with honesty, but being Master's most loyal companion came with secrets that I would carry to my grave. I never shared anything with Jeremy, of course, Master was more important than any friendship I could have, but his constant nagging was beginning to unnerve me. If it prolonged much further, I would have to tell Master and it wouldn't end well for my friend.
Realizing I wasn't going to get any more sleep, I dug around in my bag finally finding the worn paperback I was looking for. Pulling it out, I felt around my bookmark finding my place. The bookmark was a worn out piece of jersey material, black and worn from use and age. I laid it aside and returned to the tale of young Hamlet as he dreamt about killing his uncle and slipped into madness. It was my favorite tragedy, one that I had read at least ten times. It wasn't just the beautiful monologues and symbolism that captured my soul; it was also a gift… Well, I thought it was anyway. Along with the silver chain, it was the only thing left of my old life, the one I couldn't remember. The cover told that sorry tale, blood spattering the front and some inside pages, but I hardly noticed after all these years. It was almost comforting, those crimson stains and the smell of old pages, rusted by time. They held memories, ones that couldn't escape and couldn't be shared, memories that would always be trapped behind Shakespeare's greatest tragedy. I contented myself with Hamlet until I felt the familiar jolt of descent and knew we would land shortly.