This story came from my own personal interest as to why HUNK's handgun is called 'Matilda'. There's no record for that weapon in the past, no gun from which the title orignates. Here's my rendition of it.

It felt like a furnace in my mask as I awoke, gasping labored breaths into the filter. I coughed again, resisting the need to throw off the apparatus for easier access to air.

Focus.

If I had it on, I was on a mission.

My consciousness had returned, though the dizzying vertigo was rendering my senses useless. I felt the rough ground under the textured fingertips of my gloves. It made a slushy sound as I shifted my arms under me to lift myself up. The world was still spinning, but I had to manage.

I needed my awareness; my survival was dependant on it.

My chest hurt. The dull ache throbbing just behind my tactical vest indicated a few cracked ribs. It made breathing enough a difficult task, let alone the force I was exerting to right myself.

Falling back on my haunches I wanted to scream at the pain assaulting my body. It was only an impulse that passed quickly upon realizing where it was that I sat.

Glass vials were crushed all around me, the viscous fluorescent fluid leaking down the metal grating and into the trickling water beneath it. The purple liquid ran in rivulets along the uneven concrete, marking a wicked path to one of my fallen colleagues. Water dripped from somewhere as I listened for signs of life, but there were none.

Am I the only one?

Thoughts flooded back to me of the giant…thing that Birkin became. Never in my life had anything come close to frightening me…but that monster was terrifying. The exposed muscle and serrated skin was jarring, the wet slap of skin against the hard pavement made me cringe. Loose fragments of flesh fell with a sickening splatter from gunshots of my comrades.

With a thought I tapped my CNR to check for a signal. It fizzled loudly in my ear in retaliation, causing me to grit my teeth and curse while attempting to pull the offending headset away from the sensitive part. The endeavor didn't fare well, since the damn thing was wired into my head gear.

After a moment it faded back into a thin static, undoubtedly much more tolerable. I began surveying the surroundings, checking for anything that may benefit my current position.

A sharp squeaking brought about my attention as I scanned the stone walls and metal pipes that lined the halls. It came from a darkened corner, close to the fallen soldier I identified as a member of alpha team.

I took a closer look at my teammate. Even with the red tint of the gas mask I could make out the virus solution in combination with the deep red hue of his blood on the front of his vest. Dear god, it looked as though something had ripped out his intestines…

I suppressed the urge to vomit. Never had I seen that kind of carnage on a human being. Limbs ripped off, battered torsos…but never a gutted human being turned inside out by another living creature.

Another squeak. The vermin of the sewer must have gotten curious; I can recognize the sound of rats when I hear them.

A furry critter scurried onto the mask plate of the corpse, seemingly intrigued by the dead body. The interest only held me for a moment as a shifted to gather some supplies scattered across the floor of the cavernous room.

Area lights glinted off of the spent metal cartridges and weapons littering the post-battle zone. I managed to stagger over to the broken case of G virus samples in the sudden amplified hope that the mission would not have been in vain. I checked the metal box and the area surrounding it, but no avail.

Searching the ground, I was caught again by the small fuzzy animal perched on top of the dead body of my companion. It seemed interested in what I was doing, scrounging much like itself for ammunition and any other item of use. A first aid spray…that would have been handy.

Gathering what I could in the combat satchel at my waist, I checked stock. My TMP was empty – no use carrying that around. The MP5 had a few rounds left in it, but the way that thing expelled ammunition, it wouldn't last long. A half used magazine, and a box of nine millimeter parabellum rounds. I reloaded the clip and scanned the ground one last time.

A glint caught the corner of my eye. The red tint from the gas mask muted the shine, but it was there. I walked over to it, letting my muscles get used to idea that I would be using them, and stooped to pick up the item.

It was an HK VP70.

This clearly was not a standard issue handgun. I turned the weapon over in my hand. A three fifty seven magnum semi-automatic with burst capability – I looked around incredulously. Who the hell had brought this?

Sliding the clip free from its chamber, I reexamined the workings of the gun – it seemed intact. On a whim I loaded the clip with ammunition and locked it in place. Imagine my excitement when the resounding burst echoed against the walls, the bullet leaving a satisfying hole in the wall. Shit yeah.

There was a gasping sound to my side, breaking the spell of enchantment as I pulled by eyes away from the still smoking cavity. Apparently my comrades' body was already undergoing rigor mortis, the joints audibly popping against the twitching muscles. The rat was still hanging on – apparently the animal hadn't yet discovered what was going on with its self-made bench…

I looked closer.

The little vermin was nibbling on the corpse. It licked its jowls as it gazed upward at me, the whiskers on its face twitching in a mockery of innocence. It was eating the dead body.

The death rattle seemed to emphasize the point, the wet popping sound ominous through the filter of his mask.

I wrestled with my stomach again, my moment of joy completely overridden by the wrenching sight before me.

To further scramble my thoughts, the team member's corpse was beginning to shift – more than a post-mortis spasm would ever be capable of. The body was sitting up, another gasp emanating from the mucus coated throat.

Did the virus work that fast?

Scrambling to pack the rest of by belongings, I shoved the handgun bullets into my satchel and deposited the magazine in a convenient pocket. Steadying myself with the reanimated carcass in the HK's sights I backed for the nearest corridor headed out of the sewers.

To my surprise, the viral ridden body lurched forward at a staggering pace, its features still masked red tinted glass. I paused only momentarily before placing a measured shot in between the ridged eye frames.

The cadaver tumbled backward bonelessly, ending with a sickening splat on the wet concrete. The spray was astounding; my appreciation for the weapon in hand grew every moment. A metallic savior in the gloomy depths of this virus infected town.

I still needed to get out of this hellhole. Making due with the best tactical run I could manage, I headed for the ladder located in the northern sector of the sewer. There, on top of the Raccoon City Police Department, a chopper would be waiting at the extraction point.

My feet pounded on the rocky walkway. It was so eerily quiet down here that any noise was amplified two fold, the sound reverberating loudly against the walls and breaching my ears through the plastic mask.

I gripped the newly acquired gun in my hand, the grey metal a comforting feeling against my palm.

I guess we're in this together, eh? I mentally announced, briefly turning my gaze on the weapon. Its heavy weight added to the atmosphere of safety and as I slid down the hallway I stroked the side of the firearm with my thumb.

I nearly yelped when the static of the CNR cut through my concentration, jarring my auditory senses yet again. It fizzed out quicker this time and was followed by something more welcome.

"This is Night Hawk. Alpha, come in."

The evac chopper. My heart began to race.

I followed the corridor to the underground parking lot of the police department, practically throwing open the door in my rush to get above ground. I couldn't respond to the pilot from this location; there was still too much interference for the radio to send a signal down here.

It was a miracle that it picked up that much transmission.

Stepping through the door, I surveyed the hall. All was seemingly quiet. There was a ladder on the opposite side of the expanse along with two adjoining hallways connecting to the pathway.

I guess I let the rush get to me: I forgot to secure my route. As I passed the juncture, a low moan pressed my position, the shuffle of feet quickly moving to intersect me.

It grabbed my shoulders – I struggled against the grasp of the undead. The creature was surprisingly strong – the virus must be capable of increasing strength in its host. In a cry more surprised than hurt I was shoved against the wall, knocking the gun from my hand.

I finally locked eyes with the assailant, only to find that it was another member of alpha. The red tinted glass reflected menacingly in the pale florescent light overhead. I couldn't see his face, but the gnashing of teeth could not be missed. Executing combat maneuvers I lashed out at the enemy, planting my elbow forcefully into its torso with a quick turn of my waist. The enemy staggered backwards enough for me to reach around and pull it into a headlock.

There was a satisfying crack as its neck broke, the body falling down without any resistance. I still held the helmet, apparently breaking the seals as I took the creature down. I tossed it to the side, my gaze incidentally catching on the virus ridden body at my feet.

I recognized the man. God, is this what the virus could do?

I laughed at my own expense. Here, I chided myself, there was no god.

The view was terror inducing. It used to be human, but the skin was colorless and thin. The flesh was pulled back around the mouth, exposing long, pale mandibles still clenching involuntarily. Patches of hair clumped on top of its head, the rest coming off with a thick slimy goop the origin of was indeterminable.

A pair of hands seized me from behind and I instantly struggled, locking my grasp and pulling myself away from the attacker.

This one fortunately was not one of my teammates, but he was big. It looked as though he was wearing a lab coat of some sort, the white a stark difference from my tactical black uniform. The front of its smock was decorated in red, of what I could only assume was blood. This was too close for comfort.

I could tell I was losing the war between myself and my combatant. Each well placed strike failed to make the creature so much as flinch, and my endurance was past exhaustion. I grimaced as its gnashing teeth came closer and closer.

I shifted my weight, and the creature countered; I fell on my back, pinned under the heavy weight of its body.

In a lucky happenstance, I realized that this position made me closer to the handgun I dropped.

I reached, my finger barely reaching the grip as the monster pressed ever closer. The thick drool covering my vest, the clicking sound of teeth coming closer and closer…Just a little further, and I would have it…

I desperately lunged for the weapon as the corpse pressed his teeth against my neck, aiming the pistol against its shabby balding head. Suddenly the radio clicked on again, playing some mellow folk tune.

"You'll never catch me alive", said he,

And his ghost may be heard as it sings in the billabong

You'll come a waltzing Matilda with me…"

There was an explosion of grey matter and blood as the bullet exploded through the creature's head cavity, drenching me in flesh and other carnage of the beast. It slumped forward unnervingly at my chest, the throat cavity gurgling and overflowing with liquid.

I suppressed the urge to heave.

Kicking the dead body off of me I sat upright, pointing my gun through every entryway of the juncture point. Goddamn if I would be caught off guard again…

There was nothing, only the dripping of water from the pipes over head, and maybe a shift of the twitching bodies littering the path.

Waltzing Matilda, eh? I said to myself, gazing upon my second time savior. Fitting, in this dire situation. With the pack on my back and the military training I possessed, I had to make it through the police department on my own.

At least I have one reliable companion, I thought, thumbing the slide of the magnum.

Quickly I recovered my belongings, checking over the rotting comrade and departed scientist for supplies. Imagine my surprise when I found a lone vial hidden in one of the alpha member's pockets. Somehow this person managed to smuggle a single unblemished container of G virus, only to wind up becoming zombie food himself. What his intentions were with it were irrelevant now – I could get it to Umbrella.

I could still complete the mission.