Yeah, it's Resident Evil especially since it's under the Resident Evil
category. Yeah and Capcom made and owns pretty much everything in the
story and possibly heaven too. If you'd like more information all I can do
is point you in the direction of Japan. Or you could just stand in
Trenton, New Jersey and start digging. Either way you'll get there sooner
or later
Congratulations Master of Unlocking
2:40 am, probably the only thing more frightening than our story is being awake at this time. But so it was that the S.T.A.R.S. Alpha team was awake at this ungodly hour of the night and there was no sleep in sight for any of them.yet.
Pitch black was what some called it, others called it dark as all hell, and still others hadn't realized that they just hadn't opened their eyes yet. Albert Wesker, commanding officer of the S.T.A.R.S. unit called it impairment to his physique. Not that he was afraid of the dark, or that it made him feel weaker, but because it obstructed his and everyone else's view of him. His custom made sunglasses from Lenscrafter were not helping the matter either. Wesker didn't care though, it was small price to pay to look the way he did and he would never trade it for anything. He would just have to wait until there was sufficient light to admire himself.
The Raccoon Woods did not hand out warm greetings at the door like some of the better-known ones did. There were no baby deer or rabbits frolicking like, baby deer and rabbits there. Tall and thin were the trees with even thinner, jagged branches that seemed to reach out and grab for something. What that something was was anyone's guess. No leaves grew from the branches, but the sheer number of branches was sufficient to block out all moonlight.
The grass was a foot and a half high and was not something one would want to be trudging through at an hour that could get you blown away by a hick with a shotgun taking a late bath in the grill of his rusted old pickup truck, if you were walking anywhere near his lawn. This grass was not completely normal though. It was lined with short, but very wicked, unforgiving thorns. It was as if god has said to the gardener, "Make it evil, make it completely clear to those traveling through it that it does not enjoying being trod upon at all and that if they insist upon continuing that they are most likely in for an unpleasant evening." This was exactly what the team would be in for; of course none of them knew it.yet.
The air was heavy, luggage heavy. The lungs of smokers and fire victims had seen thinner gas than this air. It wasn't hard to breathe really, but the feeling that you would not need to eat for the next few days after inhaling was unusual. The mayor of Raccoon City had even been planning to open a restaurant whose specialty dish would be the oxygen of this forest, though it probably wouldn't have been enough of a success to remove the city's enormous debt, which made the federal reserve look like a change purse.
Wesker didn't give a pair of Dingo's kidneys about any of this though; a light source was his concern. Officially, the Alpha team had been dispatched to this despondent location to find their missing complement, the Bravo team, which was missing with a passion. Unofficially, they were here because the Chief hated them more than a bad episode of Growing Pains. There were six members present including Wesker.
"Fucking waste of time," Wesker complained, "we all know Enrico just ate too much at Taco bell again and they're all there washing dishes right now. But chief BITCHASS sends out the fucking SWAT team to gather us up at 11 fucking pm. Last thing I wanted to do this week was recreate Vietnam at 3 AM. And to top it off I forgot my Dapper Dan too."
Chris Redfield, a butch young lad and one of S.T.A.R.S. best operatives surveyed the situation. He then realized that surveying is a hard job to do without any light and instead responded to Wesker.
"Grass is a bit nasty here isn't it? Looks like we'll have to deal with it for now, because it spreads on for quite some way, Captain."
Wesker was silent and Chris assumed that Wesker had seen his point.
VOOOMMM..VOOOMMM.VROOOOOOOMMM!
Apparently Wesker had managed to procure a ride on lawnmower and bring it along without any of them noticing, Wesker was a master of things like that.
"Fool," Redfield thought to himself, "so much for subtlety."
Wesker was a straightforward man that took no detours when it came accomplishing what he had set out to do. Just the kind of man you would want as a leader. He was also the kind of man you wouldn't trust around the fine china.
"You can deal with it however the fuck you want, but I'm on cruise control from here on."
"I tried to tell him not to bring it," Jill Valentine, the alpha machine specialist said to Chris, "I said, 'you know Cap, Chris is probably going to want to be subtle about this,' but he was like, 'yeah, well I have about 550 or so frequent flyer miles left on Chris's mom, so I think I'll just cancel this week's flight trade them in and bring it anyway.'"
"I think Captain Wesker has lost sight of the mission I think I hear something," said Barry Burton, the most experienced of them said, "I don't see Frost anywhere, do you Jill?"
"Even if he was right next to me, seeing him would be a hard test, but no, I lost him. He could be up ahead with Wesker." She replied.
Burton and Valentine briefly wondered where their vehicle specialist Joseph Frost had gotten himself to, but stopped when they both realized that the racket from their commanding officer had stopped.
Wesker deactivated his ride and jumped off.
"Finally, out of the forest, just enough light here. Who put that thing there anyway. It's a safety hazard, I say let the lumberjacks move in, screw Green Peace."
He brandished a small pocket mirror, view himself in it, and smiled as if he had just been cleansed by god. He gently slicked back his hair, quickly readjusted his shades, and with a deft flick of the wrist closed the mirror and said, "I'm fuckin' beautiful."
Alpha team had now cleared the forest, which, amazing, emptied into a clearing. The grass was still more than vexed at them. A full moon hung in the sky, bored out of its orbit and wondering if now was a good time to fly headlong into the Earth disrupting the tides and such. It decided to wait until morning. By then it was going have stories to tell it's grandchildren over an open fireplace in the morning.
"Bravo couldn't have gotten much further than here without their helicopter." Chris declared.
A rustle in the grass.
"What the hell was that?" Frost asked aloud as he looked up. "Captain Wesker? Chris? Jill? Did anyone hear something?"
No reply.
He slowly rotated in place using the light from his rifle to find the source of the noise. As his feet moved he realized that his own footsteps in the tall grass were making the same sound. Ascertaining just who or what caused noise was difficult, especially since every sound sounded the same at 3 AM. Menacing.
Joseph called out the names of his compatriots again. They weren't there. He called out again louder. They continued their absence. He had now officially been separated. Frost grew angry with himself. He had obviously been left behind, partly due to his curiosity getting the better of him. He had stopped to check every noise or object that seemed unusual or out of place. Unfortunately, occurrences like those were a dime a dozen in Raccoon Forest. The other reason was that when he had heard the thunderous rumbling he had quickly dived in a nearby log.
Quickly and cautiously he continued, as best he could in the direction that his is comrades had gone. He was glad to see that the grass became much shorter as he walked on. He looked up at the barely visible outline of the Brad's chopper.
"Gotta find the others," he sighed to himself, "at least I won't be here forever." Famous last words.
Joseph had collided with a large stationary object, falling flat on his ass. Standing up he shone the light on it.
"Sears gardening department," he read, "Wesker's lawnmower." At least it had made the walk easier. Wesker must have been relatively close to this location.
Once again he called to his fellow members.
"It's Joseph." Barry's voice came back.
"I'll be up with you in a few minutes." Frost called back.
The rest of the team was just beyond the forest and it would be only a few minutes before Frost himself made it top their position. Relieved he moved past the obstruction and started to continue forward.
"Excuse me sir." A voice behind him spoke.
Frost whipped around in surprise to see a small man against Wesker's lawnmower. The man was of a diminutive stature, maybe four feet tall and looked completely out of place in this environment. He had a very light skin tone that seemed to be almost a natural light source. He had a thick red beard and his head was adorned with a natural baldness also, yet his face showed no sign of natural age, he appeared to be very young. His eyes radiated an aura eeriness, but also an aura of extreme calm and serenity, suggesting that he knew something you didn't and that it wouldn't matter much longer. His ears and nose were at bit pointier than these of a normal person, but it was nothing that would get you odd looks at parties. The man wore a matching white shirt and pair of pants. The shirt had a short phrase written on it: "C U Soon."
"Frost," the man inquired, "Joseph Frost?"
"Uh, yes." Frost replied, not sure of what to say to a dwarf that you've never met that knows exactly who you are.
"Oh good, glad I got one right on the first shot. I'm very new in the field and my boss is rather vexed with me for getting him knee deep in afterworld lawsuits. He'll be very glad to know I did something right.
"Afterworld lawsuits, what are you talking about."
"Oh, that's nothing very important to you. What is important to you is that you sign right here."
The man held up a clipboard, produced a white pen from his shirt pocket and handed them to Frost.
"Print your name on the next open space in the list then flip up the page and sign next to the X."
"What's this for? Did I win something?"
"Uhhhhhh, in a sense, standard protocol, Peter and the gate staff like to keep a list of the newest arrivals."
"Who's Peter, what gate?"
"I'll get back to you on it, but right now just sign."
Frost printed his name and flipped to the next page.
Another rustle and this time much louder accompanied by what sounded like more than one of whatever had made the noise. Frost was damn sure that it wasn't him this time. He held up his rifle scanning the area.
"Time's wasting Mr. Frost."
Joseph finished signing and handed the clipboard back before continuing the investigation. After he was certain that there was nothing there he relaxed.
"Thank you very much, and see you soon Mr. Frost."
"See you soon whe--?"
Frost looked back and the little man was gone. He jumped in surprise that he was alone again. Of course that was nothing compared to the shock he got when he looked up.
BOOM! BOOM!
THUD! THUD!
Barry marked off two more ravens. He had acquired the .44 magnum some four years previously. It was a top-secret bio-weapon developed and carried out by Raincoat Inc. as an answer to its rival corporation, Umbrella's bio- weapons. The gun fired .44 caliber, armour-piercing, micro-grenades with the latest in homing and heat seeking technology. Translation: it was damn good at blowing really big holes in stuff living, dead, or both and took a large miracle to miss. It had been deemed "highly classified" by Raincoat and required an obscene number of security levels, numeric codes, keycards, old rusty keys, amulets, and crests to access.
The scientist in charge of construction had labeled the firearm "brilliant." The night janitor, who knew none of the previous information and had found it in the fish tank after the research team had gone home from the stag party had called it, "a tight piece-uh shit."
The pawnshop that bought it from the night janitor called it, "eh, your standard 200 bucks." The police had called it, "exhibit A" when they confiscated it from the thief that robbed the pawnshop, who had called it, "YOU PIECE OF SHIT," after he had accidentally shot himself in the foot with it. And the gun shop owner next door to the pawnshop, put a price tag of $6.99 on it after he stole it from the hearing. Eventually Barry Burton walked in and purchased it for 700 hundred dollars, which confused the owner, but he wasn't one to complain. Happy with the discount he had gotten, Barry walked out.
Another feature of the gun was its array of DNA sensors, which should have kept Barry from ever firing it in the first place. Unfortunately, Barry had unknowingly managed to override the system at his sister's wedding, when he attempted to load it with the charges from an 18th century flintlock pistol and a ramrod. He subsequently fired it into the punch bowl for some reason that only he would ever know. When Chris took the gun away Barry called out, "BUDDY CHECK," causing the magnum to come screaming toward him landing perfectly in his right hand.
"Put that damned thing away Barry." Wesker commanded.
A high-pitched scream rang out across the terrain like the bell of a passenger train leaving with its newest passengers.
"JOSEPH!' Jill cried, sprinting in the direction of the voice. Chris, followed by Wesker and Barry quickly pursued.
It had started at as a yelp of surprise and escalated to a scream of horror then a screech of agony. Frost had looked up in to see time the teeth of a very strange beast bearing down on him. Unfortunately for him that had been all he had seen before the teeth toppled him onto his back causing his shotgun to fly out of his hands. Chomping sounds ensued as did more screams. By the time Jill arrived at the scene Frost's screaming had degenerated into a soft pained moan, then stopped as a candle would flicker out.
Jill stood there staring wide-eyed at the sight before here. What has left of Joseph was quickly being consumed by, for lack of a better phrase: "some very fucked looking Dobermans."
"JOSEPH," cried again, "My god those dogs are chaffed beyond belief."
These dogs were missing all the matter of body parts and not just conventional ones like legs either, but pieces of their skulls, left kidneys, quite possibly the right ones also, and other random patches of skin. Their owner had not done a good job at hiding the sandpaper.
One of the beasts suddenly thought that this lunch was quite mediocre and decided that it would be much happier if it could gnaw on a prime cut piece of ass like the one standing 15 feet behind it. It looked up, its attention departing from the parsley before it and transferring to the twelve-course dinner behind it. Apparently, the other two had been think something along the same line also. Collectively they kicked the debris that had been a member of S.T.A.R.S. out of their path. A small cavalry of death charged at Jill.
"Oh zoinks," Jill exclaimed quietly. As the leader the decomposing canines dove head long at her. Instinctively putting up her arms for protection, she immediately prepared herself to scream and not reach for her Berretta. Luckily Chris had.
Two gunshots rang out and the creature collapsed a foot and a half in front of Valentine as she continued to stare persistently in shock. Chris sighed and produced a paper from his pocket. He held it up to Jill's face. She immediately snapped back to life snatching the paper and eying it like the Holy Grail.
"Fifty percent off blouses at JC Penny." She said through the saliva that was now building in her mouth.
Chris watched in horror as the beast he had just unloaded into began to rise from the ground and the look on its face said that the menu now included a second course.
"Jill can we move now," Chris said rather nervously at this sight plus the other two undead bearing down upon them, "oh fuck it." He grabbed her by the arm and pelted back toward the clearing.
"I didn't know they had those at SEARS, thongs and crotchless panties, I wanted this pair Chris." Jill announced.
Chris being a heterosexual human male with a working penis stopped to look, "Which one.fudge."
BANG! BOOM! BLAM!
Three dog shoulders were very surprised to suddenly be missing their corresponding heads. Gravity took effect again pulling the bodies back to the earth.
"What'd I tell you dipshit," Wesker said clocking Barry on the head with his flashlight, "I told you she'll probably get one of us killed one day. Oh and by the way, fuckhead, feel free to take a shot or two next time." He lowered his gun.
"Wesker, have you had that flashlight the whole time?" Chris asked wide- eyed.
"No," Wesker replied, rapidly tossing the flashlight over his shoulder. It bounced off Barry's head and landed and the bushes around him. "Well that was fun, these things couldn't get much easier to kill. Fucking target practice, wish I had few more left."
A sound blew through the area. Barry thought the sound sounded like about thirty or forty more mutant Dobermans bearing down on S.T.A.R.S. position very very quickly. They all looked in the direction of it and found that Barry had been exactly right.
"Well what now Captain Asslicker?" Barry asked.
"Bail motherfucker." was Wesker's elegant response
They bailed.
Chris had managed to pry the catalogue page away from Jill, who was now joining the other sin full flight retreat.
"Any good place you can think of to bail to IN THE MIDDLE OF THE FUCKING NIGHT IN THE MIDDLE OF FUCKING NO WHERE, WESKER?" she asked politely
"How about in your ass bitch?"
"Just because mine hasn't had twenty cocks in it before doesn't mean you have to talk about it, you cunt munching son of an impotent orangutan."
"Although I'm enjoying all of this very much, can we cut it for a few minutes? There up head, head for that large ominous, dark, abandoned house, we'll be safe in there."
"Yes." Jill agreed
"Yes." Wesker agreed
Chris didn't say anything.
The house was big.
Real big.
I you thought that a walk down the street to the supermarket was big, then this was bigger. The front door was unlocked. The implications of this didn't register to Jill as she opened the door burst inside then slammed it behind her. It also hadn't registered that she has just left the others outside.
"That can't be good," she said aloud to herself.
Completely ignoring the pleas from Barry to open the door coming from the other side, Jill walked forward and started reciting epitaphs for each of her comrades.
"Joseph, you were completely useless in life, but at least in the end you were useful to the doggies. I'm fairly sure you'll make good compost though and I will probably never think of or mention you ever again. Chris, I never had a better time in a water closet, accept for that Jamaican security guard at the Bob Marley show that one time. I'll name my favorite dildo about you. Wesker, you cock biting shrink-wrapped piece of dingo feces. I fucking hate you, don't go to heaven. Finally, Barry, you were dumb as shit, dumber really. I think though, that I'll remember you the best. Anytime my family asks me what ever happened that guy that completely fragged grandma's rocking chair while yelling, "TAKE THAT BOSCO," I'll think of you."
The two windows placed on opposite sides of the main door caved in as Barry came through the east window and Wesker through the west each followed by 3 mutant dogs.
Barry scrambled to his feet and fired a single round from his magnum, completely obliterating the linear pattern of monsters in front of him. He the sighed, walked to the window, removed his only grenade from his belt and with the utter confidence of a complete lunatic placed it in his mouth. He then proceeded removed the pin and threw it out the window.
Meanwhile, Wesker had managed to assert himself. The fact that he wasn't wielding a fucking hand cannon made his task slightly harder than Barry's. Wesker ran at the leader executing a springboard flip over it firing a single shot into the top of its cranium on the way over. His feet landed on the skull of the next, crushing blood, bits of skull and brains into the carpet. The final barreled at him blindly hoping for whatever piece it could get. Wesker stuck his knee into the path of the dogs face using its own speed to collapse its snout in on itself. He hoisted the dog into the air using his leg and emptied the rest of the clip from his handgun into it before it hit the ground. He released the empty clip and slammed in a fresh one.
He turned around as he heard an explosion come from outside the front door. Barry has spit the grenade out of his mouth with enough power and accuracy to land it in the center of the pack of undead mutts that was barking madly outside. The grenade exploded in a shower of napalm. A throng of whimpers came from outside.
"Oh there you are guys, didn't hear you come in."
Tune in next week as the wacky STARS team begins to explore their new setting and it starts to take it toll on everyone.
PEACEAGE!
Congratulations Master of Unlocking
2:40 am, probably the only thing more frightening than our story is being awake at this time. But so it was that the S.T.A.R.S. Alpha team was awake at this ungodly hour of the night and there was no sleep in sight for any of them.yet.
Pitch black was what some called it, others called it dark as all hell, and still others hadn't realized that they just hadn't opened their eyes yet. Albert Wesker, commanding officer of the S.T.A.R.S. unit called it impairment to his physique. Not that he was afraid of the dark, or that it made him feel weaker, but because it obstructed his and everyone else's view of him. His custom made sunglasses from Lenscrafter were not helping the matter either. Wesker didn't care though, it was small price to pay to look the way he did and he would never trade it for anything. He would just have to wait until there was sufficient light to admire himself.
The Raccoon Woods did not hand out warm greetings at the door like some of the better-known ones did. There were no baby deer or rabbits frolicking like, baby deer and rabbits there. Tall and thin were the trees with even thinner, jagged branches that seemed to reach out and grab for something. What that something was was anyone's guess. No leaves grew from the branches, but the sheer number of branches was sufficient to block out all moonlight.
The grass was a foot and a half high and was not something one would want to be trudging through at an hour that could get you blown away by a hick with a shotgun taking a late bath in the grill of his rusted old pickup truck, if you were walking anywhere near his lawn. This grass was not completely normal though. It was lined with short, but very wicked, unforgiving thorns. It was as if god has said to the gardener, "Make it evil, make it completely clear to those traveling through it that it does not enjoying being trod upon at all and that if they insist upon continuing that they are most likely in for an unpleasant evening." This was exactly what the team would be in for; of course none of them knew it.yet.
The air was heavy, luggage heavy. The lungs of smokers and fire victims had seen thinner gas than this air. It wasn't hard to breathe really, but the feeling that you would not need to eat for the next few days after inhaling was unusual. The mayor of Raccoon City had even been planning to open a restaurant whose specialty dish would be the oxygen of this forest, though it probably wouldn't have been enough of a success to remove the city's enormous debt, which made the federal reserve look like a change purse.
Wesker didn't give a pair of Dingo's kidneys about any of this though; a light source was his concern. Officially, the Alpha team had been dispatched to this despondent location to find their missing complement, the Bravo team, which was missing with a passion. Unofficially, they were here because the Chief hated them more than a bad episode of Growing Pains. There were six members present including Wesker.
"Fucking waste of time," Wesker complained, "we all know Enrico just ate too much at Taco bell again and they're all there washing dishes right now. But chief BITCHASS sends out the fucking SWAT team to gather us up at 11 fucking pm. Last thing I wanted to do this week was recreate Vietnam at 3 AM. And to top it off I forgot my Dapper Dan too."
Chris Redfield, a butch young lad and one of S.T.A.R.S. best operatives surveyed the situation. He then realized that surveying is a hard job to do without any light and instead responded to Wesker.
"Grass is a bit nasty here isn't it? Looks like we'll have to deal with it for now, because it spreads on for quite some way, Captain."
Wesker was silent and Chris assumed that Wesker had seen his point.
VOOOMMM..VOOOMMM.VROOOOOOOMMM!
Apparently Wesker had managed to procure a ride on lawnmower and bring it along without any of them noticing, Wesker was a master of things like that.
"Fool," Redfield thought to himself, "so much for subtlety."
Wesker was a straightforward man that took no detours when it came accomplishing what he had set out to do. Just the kind of man you would want as a leader. He was also the kind of man you wouldn't trust around the fine china.
"You can deal with it however the fuck you want, but I'm on cruise control from here on."
"I tried to tell him not to bring it," Jill Valentine, the alpha machine specialist said to Chris, "I said, 'you know Cap, Chris is probably going to want to be subtle about this,' but he was like, 'yeah, well I have about 550 or so frequent flyer miles left on Chris's mom, so I think I'll just cancel this week's flight trade them in and bring it anyway.'"
"I think Captain Wesker has lost sight of the mission I think I hear something," said Barry Burton, the most experienced of them said, "I don't see Frost anywhere, do you Jill?"
"Even if he was right next to me, seeing him would be a hard test, but no, I lost him. He could be up ahead with Wesker." She replied.
Burton and Valentine briefly wondered where their vehicle specialist Joseph Frost had gotten himself to, but stopped when they both realized that the racket from their commanding officer had stopped.
Wesker deactivated his ride and jumped off.
"Finally, out of the forest, just enough light here. Who put that thing there anyway. It's a safety hazard, I say let the lumberjacks move in, screw Green Peace."
He brandished a small pocket mirror, view himself in it, and smiled as if he had just been cleansed by god. He gently slicked back his hair, quickly readjusted his shades, and with a deft flick of the wrist closed the mirror and said, "I'm fuckin' beautiful."
Alpha team had now cleared the forest, which, amazing, emptied into a clearing. The grass was still more than vexed at them. A full moon hung in the sky, bored out of its orbit and wondering if now was a good time to fly headlong into the Earth disrupting the tides and such. It decided to wait until morning. By then it was going have stories to tell it's grandchildren over an open fireplace in the morning.
"Bravo couldn't have gotten much further than here without their helicopter." Chris declared.
A rustle in the grass.
"What the hell was that?" Frost asked aloud as he looked up. "Captain Wesker? Chris? Jill? Did anyone hear something?"
No reply.
He slowly rotated in place using the light from his rifle to find the source of the noise. As his feet moved he realized that his own footsteps in the tall grass were making the same sound. Ascertaining just who or what caused noise was difficult, especially since every sound sounded the same at 3 AM. Menacing.
Joseph called out the names of his compatriots again. They weren't there. He called out again louder. They continued their absence. He had now officially been separated. Frost grew angry with himself. He had obviously been left behind, partly due to his curiosity getting the better of him. He had stopped to check every noise or object that seemed unusual or out of place. Unfortunately, occurrences like those were a dime a dozen in Raccoon Forest. The other reason was that when he had heard the thunderous rumbling he had quickly dived in a nearby log.
Quickly and cautiously he continued, as best he could in the direction that his is comrades had gone. He was glad to see that the grass became much shorter as he walked on. He looked up at the barely visible outline of the Brad's chopper.
"Gotta find the others," he sighed to himself, "at least I won't be here forever." Famous last words.
Joseph had collided with a large stationary object, falling flat on his ass. Standing up he shone the light on it.
"Sears gardening department," he read, "Wesker's lawnmower." At least it had made the walk easier. Wesker must have been relatively close to this location.
Once again he called to his fellow members.
"It's Joseph." Barry's voice came back.
"I'll be up with you in a few minutes." Frost called back.
The rest of the team was just beyond the forest and it would be only a few minutes before Frost himself made it top their position. Relieved he moved past the obstruction and started to continue forward.
"Excuse me sir." A voice behind him spoke.
Frost whipped around in surprise to see a small man against Wesker's lawnmower. The man was of a diminutive stature, maybe four feet tall and looked completely out of place in this environment. He had a very light skin tone that seemed to be almost a natural light source. He had a thick red beard and his head was adorned with a natural baldness also, yet his face showed no sign of natural age, he appeared to be very young. His eyes radiated an aura eeriness, but also an aura of extreme calm and serenity, suggesting that he knew something you didn't and that it wouldn't matter much longer. His ears and nose were at bit pointier than these of a normal person, but it was nothing that would get you odd looks at parties. The man wore a matching white shirt and pair of pants. The shirt had a short phrase written on it: "C U Soon."
"Frost," the man inquired, "Joseph Frost?"
"Uh, yes." Frost replied, not sure of what to say to a dwarf that you've never met that knows exactly who you are.
"Oh good, glad I got one right on the first shot. I'm very new in the field and my boss is rather vexed with me for getting him knee deep in afterworld lawsuits. He'll be very glad to know I did something right.
"Afterworld lawsuits, what are you talking about."
"Oh, that's nothing very important to you. What is important to you is that you sign right here."
The man held up a clipboard, produced a white pen from his shirt pocket and handed them to Frost.
"Print your name on the next open space in the list then flip up the page and sign next to the X."
"What's this for? Did I win something?"
"Uhhhhhh, in a sense, standard protocol, Peter and the gate staff like to keep a list of the newest arrivals."
"Who's Peter, what gate?"
"I'll get back to you on it, but right now just sign."
Frost printed his name and flipped to the next page.
Another rustle and this time much louder accompanied by what sounded like more than one of whatever had made the noise. Frost was damn sure that it wasn't him this time. He held up his rifle scanning the area.
"Time's wasting Mr. Frost."
Joseph finished signing and handed the clipboard back before continuing the investigation. After he was certain that there was nothing there he relaxed.
"Thank you very much, and see you soon Mr. Frost."
"See you soon whe--?"
Frost looked back and the little man was gone. He jumped in surprise that he was alone again. Of course that was nothing compared to the shock he got when he looked up.
BOOM! BOOM!
THUD! THUD!
Barry marked off two more ravens. He had acquired the .44 magnum some four years previously. It was a top-secret bio-weapon developed and carried out by Raincoat Inc. as an answer to its rival corporation, Umbrella's bio- weapons. The gun fired .44 caliber, armour-piercing, micro-grenades with the latest in homing and heat seeking technology. Translation: it was damn good at blowing really big holes in stuff living, dead, or both and took a large miracle to miss. It had been deemed "highly classified" by Raincoat and required an obscene number of security levels, numeric codes, keycards, old rusty keys, amulets, and crests to access.
The scientist in charge of construction had labeled the firearm "brilliant." The night janitor, who knew none of the previous information and had found it in the fish tank after the research team had gone home from the stag party had called it, "a tight piece-uh shit."
The pawnshop that bought it from the night janitor called it, "eh, your standard 200 bucks." The police had called it, "exhibit A" when they confiscated it from the thief that robbed the pawnshop, who had called it, "YOU PIECE OF SHIT," after he had accidentally shot himself in the foot with it. And the gun shop owner next door to the pawnshop, put a price tag of $6.99 on it after he stole it from the hearing. Eventually Barry Burton walked in and purchased it for 700 hundred dollars, which confused the owner, but he wasn't one to complain. Happy with the discount he had gotten, Barry walked out.
Another feature of the gun was its array of DNA sensors, which should have kept Barry from ever firing it in the first place. Unfortunately, Barry had unknowingly managed to override the system at his sister's wedding, when he attempted to load it with the charges from an 18th century flintlock pistol and a ramrod. He subsequently fired it into the punch bowl for some reason that only he would ever know. When Chris took the gun away Barry called out, "BUDDY CHECK," causing the magnum to come screaming toward him landing perfectly in his right hand.
"Put that damned thing away Barry." Wesker commanded.
A high-pitched scream rang out across the terrain like the bell of a passenger train leaving with its newest passengers.
"JOSEPH!' Jill cried, sprinting in the direction of the voice. Chris, followed by Wesker and Barry quickly pursued.
It had started at as a yelp of surprise and escalated to a scream of horror then a screech of agony. Frost had looked up in to see time the teeth of a very strange beast bearing down on him. Unfortunately for him that had been all he had seen before the teeth toppled him onto his back causing his shotgun to fly out of his hands. Chomping sounds ensued as did more screams. By the time Jill arrived at the scene Frost's screaming had degenerated into a soft pained moan, then stopped as a candle would flicker out.
Jill stood there staring wide-eyed at the sight before here. What has left of Joseph was quickly being consumed by, for lack of a better phrase: "some very fucked looking Dobermans."
"JOSEPH," cried again, "My god those dogs are chaffed beyond belief."
These dogs were missing all the matter of body parts and not just conventional ones like legs either, but pieces of their skulls, left kidneys, quite possibly the right ones also, and other random patches of skin. Their owner had not done a good job at hiding the sandpaper.
One of the beasts suddenly thought that this lunch was quite mediocre and decided that it would be much happier if it could gnaw on a prime cut piece of ass like the one standing 15 feet behind it. It looked up, its attention departing from the parsley before it and transferring to the twelve-course dinner behind it. Apparently, the other two had been think something along the same line also. Collectively they kicked the debris that had been a member of S.T.A.R.S. out of their path. A small cavalry of death charged at Jill.
"Oh zoinks," Jill exclaimed quietly. As the leader the decomposing canines dove head long at her. Instinctively putting up her arms for protection, she immediately prepared herself to scream and not reach for her Berretta. Luckily Chris had.
Two gunshots rang out and the creature collapsed a foot and a half in front of Valentine as she continued to stare persistently in shock. Chris sighed and produced a paper from his pocket. He held it up to Jill's face. She immediately snapped back to life snatching the paper and eying it like the Holy Grail.
"Fifty percent off blouses at JC Penny." She said through the saliva that was now building in her mouth.
Chris watched in horror as the beast he had just unloaded into began to rise from the ground and the look on its face said that the menu now included a second course.
"Jill can we move now," Chris said rather nervously at this sight plus the other two undead bearing down upon them, "oh fuck it." He grabbed her by the arm and pelted back toward the clearing.
"I didn't know they had those at SEARS, thongs and crotchless panties, I wanted this pair Chris." Jill announced.
Chris being a heterosexual human male with a working penis stopped to look, "Which one.fudge."
BANG! BOOM! BLAM!
Three dog shoulders were very surprised to suddenly be missing their corresponding heads. Gravity took effect again pulling the bodies back to the earth.
"What'd I tell you dipshit," Wesker said clocking Barry on the head with his flashlight, "I told you she'll probably get one of us killed one day. Oh and by the way, fuckhead, feel free to take a shot or two next time." He lowered his gun.
"Wesker, have you had that flashlight the whole time?" Chris asked wide- eyed.
"No," Wesker replied, rapidly tossing the flashlight over his shoulder. It bounced off Barry's head and landed and the bushes around him. "Well that was fun, these things couldn't get much easier to kill. Fucking target practice, wish I had few more left."
A sound blew through the area. Barry thought the sound sounded like about thirty or forty more mutant Dobermans bearing down on S.T.A.R.S. position very very quickly. They all looked in the direction of it and found that Barry had been exactly right.
"Well what now Captain Asslicker?" Barry asked.
"Bail motherfucker." was Wesker's elegant response
They bailed.
Chris had managed to pry the catalogue page away from Jill, who was now joining the other sin full flight retreat.
"Any good place you can think of to bail to IN THE MIDDLE OF THE FUCKING NIGHT IN THE MIDDLE OF FUCKING NO WHERE, WESKER?" she asked politely
"How about in your ass bitch?"
"Just because mine hasn't had twenty cocks in it before doesn't mean you have to talk about it, you cunt munching son of an impotent orangutan."
"Although I'm enjoying all of this very much, can we cut it for a few minutes? There up head, head for that large ominous, dark, abandoned house, we'll be safe in there."
"Yes." Jill agreed
"Yes." Wesker agreed
Chris didn't say anything.
The house was big.
Real big.
I you thought that a walk down the street to the supermarket was big, then this was bigger. The front door was unlocked. The implications of this didn't register to Jill as she opened the door burst inside then slammed it behind her. It also hadn't registered that she has just left the others outside.
"That can't be good," she said aloud to herself.
Completely ignoring the pleas from Barry to open the door coming from the other side, Jill walked forward and started reciting epitaphs for each of her comrades.
"Joseph, you were completely useless in life, but at least in the end you were useful to the doggies. I'm fairly sure you'll make good compost though and I will probably never think of or mention you ever again. Chris, I never had a better time in a water closet, accept for that Jamaican security guard at the Bob Marley show that one time. I'll name my favorite dildo about you. Wesker, you cock biting shrink-wrapped piece of dingo feces. I fucking hate you, don't go to heaven. Finally, Barry, you were dumb as shit, dumber really. I think though, that I'll remember you the best. Anytime my family asks me what ever happened that guy that completely fragged grandma's rocking chair while yelling, "TAKE THAT BOSCO," I'll think of you."
The two windows placed on opposite sides of the main door caved in as Barry came through the east window and Wesker through the west each followed by 3 mutant dogs.
Barry scrambled to his feet and fired a single round from his magnum, completely obliterating the linear pattern of monsters in front of him. He the sighed, walked to the window, removed his only grenade from his belt and with the utter confidence of a complete lunatic placed it in his mouth. He then proceeded removed the pin and threw it out the window.
Meanwhile, Wesker had managed to assert himself. The fact that he wasn't wielding a fucking hand cannon made his task slightly harder than Barry's. Wesker ran at the leader executing a springboard flip over it firing a single shot into the top of its cranium on the way over. His feet landed on the skull of the next, crushing blood, bits of skull and brains into the carpet. The final barreled at him blindly hoping for whatever piece it could get. Wesker stuck his knee into the path of the dogs face using its own speed to collapse its snout in on itself. He hoisted the dog into the air using his leg and emptied the rest of the clip from his handgun into it before it hit the ground. He released the empty clip and slammed in a fresh one.
He turned around as he heard an explosion come from outside the front door. Barry has spit the grenade out of his mouth with enough power and accuracy to land it in the center of the pack of undead mutts that was barking madly outside. The grenade exploded in a shower of napalm. A throng of whimpers came from outside.
"Oh there you are guys, didn't hear you come in."
Tune in next week as the wacky STARS team begins to explore their new setting and it starts to take it toll on everyone.
PEACEAGE!