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Viper's Account- 12/28/98.
May 1993, 14 year old Chris Fury and 13 year old Lor Silver are infected with the Viper and Marty virus respectively.
August 1993, Accident at the labs, Viper subject escapes.
September 1997, Lor and Chris meet up once again at high school.
November 1998, Umbrella reawakens the Marty and Viper viruses after letting them lie dormant for 5 years. Begin work on Project Hera.
I woke up this morning, my left hand was twitching as I pushed my face up from the mud. When I opened my eyes, I felt over my body slowly. No cuts, a few slight bruises, but other than that, just exceptionally muddy. And annoyed. Thanks to Umbrella, whatever I and Marty had had in way of a reletionship was now dust. They had to increase the dosage and pit us both against each other didn't they? There was a cold wind blowing but I didn't notice it as I sat up, flexing my arms slowly, trying to get the feeling back. I never noticed the temperature, but Marty did. Speaking of which, where was she? She'd probebly kicked my ass and left, I really couldn't remember. Standing up, I stumbled slightly, stabilizing myself and looking around what had once been a patch of forest. It was totally decimated. Trees had been knocked down, and one was even on fire. Again, how that happened I had no clue. The ashes were falling like snowflakes from the burning tree, and as it wasn't quite daylight yet, I could see perfectly. I scanned the area and saw where one of the trees had fallen. There was something purple sticking out from underneath it, lying out in a fan shape on the mud and ashen ground. Moving over slowly, I broke into a run as I got closer, one name in my mind...Marty.
I reached her and started to push the tree from off the top of her. Eventually getting it off, I looked down at her. Her red t-shirt was ripped at several different places. She had two long cuts running across her left side, one deep one on the left side of her stomach, and one across the top of her head, just above her eyebrow. Not to mention the countless bruises all over her. I really must have laid into her during that fight. I turned her head slightly and looked at her face. She was flat out of it, her skin a pale white, tinged with the scarlet of the blood running down from the cut on her forhead. I had to get her back to base, and get them to patch her up. Picking her up, being careful to support her head, I had a look around the barren wasteland that had almost been their graveyard. Then I looked ahead, to the base building in the distance. Narrowing my eyes I started to walk slowly, carrying Marty. Behind me, the sun rose on what would be our last day working for, or even being associated with Umbrella