The Ice Queen – A Code: Veronica X Short
AshfordMansion
Antarctica
January 3rd1999
… drip…
The darkness... fear…
Inside her mind those two forces were overpowering. The terrifying blackness was consuming her spirit; sapping whatever strength that had remained. In the distance, the sound seemed to echo its foreboding noise further into the depths of her dreams. The darkness always amplified sound. It was something she knew quite intimately from her youth.
She hated the dark; hated it ever since the day she had fallen down an abandoned well behind her parents' home. For hours she had lain at the bottom with a sprained ankle surrounded by the unyielding darkness. At the young age of seven, she had never felt so helpless… or scared. Trying to call for help had proven to be in vain due to the depth in which she had fallen. Terror and pain had been her only companions, and she'd had no choice but to remain still and pray that someone would come to her rescue.
… drip…
That day had been the longest day in her life. After the hours had passed and the evening sky had turned dark with the final setting of the sun, she had begun to cry. Any hope of being rescued had begun to dwindle to despair. Above her she could see nothing save for a faint star in the distant sky above. The sounds of summer coming from the nearby fields soon became a menacing tormentor as its pitch began to reverberate down the walls of the old well. By then she had curled up into a ball and lain there trembling at every noise… until she heard her name being called frantically in the distance above. The voice had been unmistakable – he had found her; her big brother… her hero. Ever since she'd been old enough to remember, she had always admired him. He had been there all throughout her life to look out for her no matter what. She was his baby sister, and he'd protected her with the fierceness and love that only a big brother could have. That night had been no different. In the years that followed, he had tried his best to help her overcome the fear she held of the dark.
"Look there Claire Bear. You see? There's nothing to be afraid of. The darkness can't hurt you... it's your mind that twists it into fear. Once you calm your thoughts, you can conquer it… I know you can."
… drip…
For years after that terrifying ordeal, she had believed him… trusted him. That was until a fateful night three months ago in a town called Raccoon City. It was there in that cursed place that she had rediscovered the meaning of fear and terror that the darkness held – that the night did have monsters roaming within its shadows.
It had been a hard lesson to learn – and if he hadn't taught her how to survive after their parents had passed away… she would have died there, too. During her escape, she had used her brother's words to draw her strength as she, Leon, and Sherry made there way through the city. Even though she had survived that night, she had never fully conquered the fear. Now, it was finding her again. Again, she was that little girl trapped at the bottom of the well… and this time no one was coming to save her.
… drip…
That sound again. She hadn't been able to escape from its clutches. How long had she been here? Where was she? The questions began battling amongst themselves as she desperately tried to come to terms with her current situation.
The last thing she had remembered was making her escape with Steve in one of the snow trucks. They had been on their way to the Australian research outpost to escape from Alfred Ashford's frozen mansion when they had been attacked by… something. It was something she couldn't describe. After that, the darkness had been her only companion.
… drip…
Wake up, Claire! Her conscious mind was beginning to rise up through the haze as her thoughts came into focus. Waking up was the only way to discover what had happened to her… and to Steve. Where was Steve!?
Stirring from her dark slumber, Claire Redfield slowly opened her eyes. Almost immediately, the light she had so desperately sought blinded her with its glare. Quickly shutting them, she silently prayed that the throbbing in her head would dissipate so she could figure out where she was. When she felt brave enough, she squinted in order to allow her eyes a chance to adjust to the hue that surrounded her. She was in some type of dark room. Suspended above her was a single light bulb that bathed her entire body in its dim glow.
As Claire took a moment to gauge her surroundings, she noticed a small cart off to the side. It looked like something one would see in an operating room sitting just outside of the light. On it, she could make out various tools – a knife, a razor, an acetylene torch, a pair of pliers… and a saw! Her skin immediately goose-prickled; the fear was once again gnawing at her. Turning toward the darkened wall behind it, she could see the outlines of other nefarious implements hanging from hooks. A startled gasp escaped her as her eyes widened in horror. She was in some type of torture room!
While that discovery was a serious concern, Claire realized something else that was more troubling at the moment. She couldn't move! Initially, she had tried to stand but her legs had refused to cooperate. Looking down, she noticed that they were bound with rope just above her knees. And that wasn't the only place – she also couldn't move her feet as the same material was holding her legs together just above her ankles. Her upper body was in no better a predicament. Her arms were bound to the back of the chair she was seated in, and her wrists were tied together. After struggling against the bindings to see if there was a weakness she could exploit, Claire soon gave up her efforts. Whoever had tied her up had done a thorough job; she wasn't going anywhere. Her heart began to beat faster as a wave of anxiety washed over her.
… drip…
Claire turned her head towards the sound and noticed a bucket of water sitting in the corner of the room under an old spigot. Every few seconds, a new drop would hit the water-laden container, causing the drop's echo to reverberate throughout the room. Her captor obviously wanted her as uncomfortable as possible. With that, she closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She had to get a grip on her emotions now because that ever-growing sensation of fear was clutching at her throat like a hand from the dark.
"Fear is only a weapon if you allow it to be used against you." Chris had told her one night as he held her hand in the darkness of her room. He had stayed with her that night as it had been the first time she had attempted to try and master the same fear that was coming for her now.
Claire then began recalling all of his words of comfort in an effort to find her strength. Upon initially discovering what this room was used for, her panic had begun weakening her resolve. After taking a few deep breaths, she calmed her mind enough to begin assessing the state of her body. She was obviously disoriented, a thirst in the back of her throat was beginning to grow, and she was probably suffering from a concussion after the snow truck was attacked. Her skull had hit the ceiling of the vehicle as she and Steve were tossed about like rag dolls. There was still a dull ache and dizzy feel there. Regardless of her condition, Claire knew that she needed to steel herself mentally and physically if she was going to make it out of here alive. People were counting on her.
One of those people was Sherry Birkin. Before she had left, Claire had made a promise to the little girl that she would return to her. Then there was her brother Chris whom she had been trying to track down for months. She wouldn't allow these people to stop her from finding him. She would endure… no matter what.
Suddenly, an eerie sound in the distance caught her attention. Squinting through the light, she attempted to look out into the blackness that surrounded her position. It sounded like heavy breathing. Were they holding Steve in here with her? Was he alright?
"Steve…?" she whispered. "Is that you? Steve?"
A hiss soon greeted her query, causing her skin to goose-prickle at the terrifying sound… a sound that was all-too-familiar. Movement in the distance caught her eye, and the dark shape slowly lumbered in her direction. The click of toenails on the old stone floor echoed with each step the creature took. As it approached the light, she could see its dark green face, yellow eyes, and large shoulders. The claws on its fingers were razor sharp and shimmered brightly in the light of the chamber. Claire felt her eyes widen as she drew in a deep breath. The monster was coming towards her and there was nothing she could do to stop it.
Suddenly, she heard additional sounds, and the Hunter was soon joined by a second. Together, the two menacing creatures slowly stalked towards her. Pulling against her bindings, Claire tried desperately to break free, but nothing would cause the ropes to give. She was helpless to defend herself. Claire knew that right now she was nothing more than a piece of meat that these two monsters would tear apart before death released her. Standing on either side of her, the Hunters leaned forward and opened their mouths. The sharp, pointed teeth of each oozed with saliva causing her to shut her eyes at the horror that was about to befall her. She could feel their hot breath on her face…
"Enough!"
Upon hearing the mysterious voice, Claire slowly opened her eyes and saw that the creatures immediately backed away from her. While surprised at the reprieve, her attention then turned towards the source and saw a shadowy outline of a woman standing in the doorway. Slowly, the shadowy figure walked into the room; the sound of her heeled shoes echoed with each step that she took.
"Leave us," the woman ordered.
Her voice was soft, yet firm. Whatever was going on here, she had obvious influence over these Hunters as they both turned and left the chamber without a second's pause. The door then closed leaving the two of them alone.
The mysterious woman slowly approached but stopped just outside of the beam of light. From what Claire could see, she was wearing a lovely dress made of violet and lavender material. Her arms and hands were covered by white gloves and cinched around her waist was a leather corset that lay just under her breasts. For a brief moment, she thought the woman standing before her was some sort of European princess.
"Who… who are you?" she asked cautiously.
The woman responded by slowly walking into the light so that Claire could see her fully. She had long blonde hair and a complexion beyond beautiful. Her fair skin was completely flawless, but it was her eyes that beckoned the gaze. They were deep blue like pools of water on a summer lake – eyes that she recognized. Claire's widened in surprise when she realized where she had seen them before.
"Alfred? But… but I saw you fall! You died!"
The young woman smiled. "No, Claire. I am not my brother; however I understand your confusion given what he has been up to of late."
Walking towards her, she stopped directly in front of the chair. "I am Alexia Ashford."
Her mouth dropped open. Alexia? There really was an Alexia Ashford?
"But… but I thought that Alfred…"
"You believed that I was merely a figment of my dear brother's imagination?" The woman finished the sentence for her before smiling in amusement. "No. I am quite real; I have just been asleep for a very long time. My absence must have weighed heavily upon my brother's mind. I am sure that you saw that he missed me greatly. His love was as genuine as any sibling's could be as he watched over me these long years."
Alexia's smile slowly faded from her pink lips before her eyes leveled at her. "And what do you suppose I found when I finally awoke from my slumber? My brother. He wasn't standing there smiling as I had expected of him; no, he was lying on the floor in a pool of his own blood from a bullet wound – a wound that you and your companion inflicted upon him!"
Claire could feel her anxiety return as she looked into the cold eyes of the Ashford woman. "Look, your brother tried to kill us! All we wanted to do was escape! That's all!"
Alexia's hate-filled stare was long and silent; providing for a very uncomfortable moment.
"Claire," she finally said, "do you believe that your excuses shall absolve you from what you and Mr. Burnside took from me? You then compounded this unforgivable sin by stealing from me and attempting to flee before you could answer for what you did. No, I could not allow that to happen; not to my own flesh and blood. That is why I attacked you and brought you here to my home."
Staring back at her captor, Claire took a couple of deep breaths in an effort to calm her pounding heart.
"What… what do you want?" she asked. Then a more important question seized her; causing her temper to flare. "Where's Steve? What have you done with him?"
The blonde woman stood off to her left. Soon a velvet hand grasped her chin and pushed her face upwards. Looking down at her, the Ashford woman's eyes pierced into hers.
"You have very beautiful eyes," Alexia said to her with another foreboding smile. "Very defiant eyes. You care more for the fate of others than you do your own well-being. It is an admirable quality you possess, Miss Redfield. Unfortunately for you it is predictable."
Claire wrested her face from the woman's grasp and stared up at her. Her initial fear had almost completely dissipated; giving way to her temper.
"Where is he?" she said with an edge to her voice.
Alexia Ashford's smile soon turned into a smirk – a look that was beginning to make her blood boil with the arrogance it held.
"Mr. Burnside…" She then paused and arched an eyebrow. "… Steve, is it? He is unharmed for now. He is currently in the company of one of my family's loyal soldiers – the last one to survive the outbreak here."
Alexia began to slowly walk around the back of the chair; her footsteps once again echoed with each step. Soon a hand ran across the length of her left shoulder. "As for your other query – what is it that I want?"
Suddenly, Claire felt a hand grasp her ponytail. Just as quick her head was yanked back causing her to yelp in surprise. The glare from the light made her wince until a shadow fell over her. When she opened her eyes, she realized that she was only inches away from the Ashford woman's face. Even in the shadows, those eyes seemed to burn right through her. At this close proximity, Claire could even smell her perfume – wild lilac.
"What I want is for you to truly understand and appreciate what it was that you took from me, Claire Redfield."
The woman's grip released itself from her hair; giving Claire the chance to right herself. Out of the corner of her eye, she caught her captor's movement as she walked towards the cart that held the torture implements on it. Her breathing was already quickening again at the woman's intentions.
"My brother enjoyed the physical elements of inflicting pain upon a victim," Alexia said gently as her fingers ran across the tools.
One of the attributes Claire had noticed about Alexia Ashford was that the woman didn't yell to make herself appear more menacing. Her voice was smooth, concise, and controlled. The lack of emotion in her tone was slowly beginning to unnerve her. At least if her captor had been shouting or had showed any signs of rage, she could have anticipated the woman and maybe even have found an advantage to exploit. Indifference however, was difficult to combat against.
That was when Claire's eyes widened when she watched Alexia pick up and gaze upon the saw. With the fingers of her right hand, she extended them and gently caressed the steel of the blade from tip to hilt.
"He took great pleasure in their cries of agony and the wounds he was responsible for creating. Perhaps that part was imbued in him from our childhood. When the two of us were but children, we would dismember the limbs of insects and small animals together just to watch them die. The spurting of blood, their shrill cries of pain, watching the life leave their eyes as death finally released them from their torment – all of that shaped us into who we would become."
Beads of sweat were forming on her brow as she listened to the sadism of the woman who was now turning the foreboding tool back and forth in her hand. Her captor's eyes remained fixated on the sharp teeth of the blade. Involuntarily, Claire felt a shiver wash over her. The fear was coming back. And with that fear, she asked a question.
"So you…" She took a deep breath, "… plan on torturing me then?"
Gently setting down the saw, Alexia turned around and looked at her with the same passivity on her lovely face. "Yes," she replied after a long pause. "But not of your body. While Alfred may have enjoyed inflicting physical injury upon his prisoners, his methods were… inefficient."
Alexia slowly and methodically walked towards her like a huntress stalking her prey. "Physical scars heal over time. While the pain can be quite intense during the session, eventually it ends and the victim's body recovers. This allows the pain to disappear completely. Despite his injury, the victim emerges as the victor in a sense as he becomes stronger both mentally and physically."
The woman stopped in front of her legs and smiled down at her. "But to scar a victim emotionally… well… even though these wounds cannot be seen with the naked eye, they shall forever stay with him long afterwards for the rest of his… or her life."
Alexia then leaned forward and braced herself by placing her hands on Claire's legs. Looking directly into her eyes, the young woman continued her verbal torment.
"Do you know what I find so delicious about my technique, Claire? All of my victims choose it willingly… and so shall you."
She expects me to let her screw around with my mind? Is she crazy?
Picking her head up and giving the woman an indignant look, Claire replied, "And you really believe that I'm going to just let you torture me? You're insane… just like your brother."
If she had been affected by the comment, Alexia didn't show it. Instead, she straightened and looked down at her again. "We shall see."
Turning around, the woman walked towards the edge of the light and raised her right hand. On the wall in the distance was a large television monitor five times the size of any TV she had ever seen. It powered on and displayed a live feed from another part of the dungeon. Immediately, Claire recognized the young man whom the camera was focusing down on.
"Steve…!" she gasped in surprise.
He was strapped from chest to thighs in a seated position against a large cinderblock wall. Occasionally, she saw him struggle against his bindings, but he was obviously trapped… just like she was. Standing off to the side with his arms crossed over his chest was a man dressed in dark black military fatigues. He was fully equipped with a dark helmet, body armor, and a biohazard mask over his face.
"Where's Claire?" Steve yelled as he turned toward the silent figure. "Yeah, I know… you can stand there as silent as you want, but just tell me where she is. Is she okay?"
Claire felt her heart flutter as she looked at the young man who had saved her life. Even in his own desperate hour, all he could think about was her. When she had first met him back at the prison, she had not been all that impressed. Initially, she had thought him as weak and a liability, but somehow he had managed to grow on her. Maybe it had been when he had to make the very difficult decision to gun down his zombified father in order to save her life. If he hadn't pulled the trigger, she would have been eaten alive. After that, they had teamed up to escape from the island. Every now and then she would catch him staring at her before he quickly looked away. While her own experiences with guys were very few and far between, she could still sense that he had developed a crush on her. Steve… If only they had met at a different time and place… not here fighting for their lives.
"Mr. Death," Alexia said suddenly, "you may begin."
Thrust from her thoughts, she turned toward at her captor. "W… what? What are you doing!?"
Horrified at what followed next, Claire found that even the ability to breathe had escaped her. With her eyes widening in horror, she watched helplessly as the soldier's fist connected with Steve's face. His head rocked to the left causing blood to spatter on the wall behind him. A pain-filled groan filled the room, but the soldier had already followed up with another strike… then another… then another.
Despite the sickening display she was witnessing, Claire found her voice. "NO! STOP IT!" she screamed. "Leave him alone! I'm the one that you want!"
Alexia neither turned nor acknowledged her. The woman's attention was focused solely on the screen before her as she watched the blood-letting with the same passive look. Did this woman feel anything at all? How could anyone be that cold towards the world and hurt someone as innocent as Steve? What was she hoping to accomplish here?
The blows continued as did Steve's cries of pain. Claire winced with each strike as the tears she had been trying hard to fight began to well within her eyes. Sweat had begun forming on her body despite the coldness of the chamber and now desperation was setting in. She had to stop this; she had to save Steve… but how?
"Please stop!" she begged. A tear ran down her cheek. "PLEASE! He had nothing to do with any of this! This is between you and me!"
Still nothing. The woman was a stone statue – not moving a muscle as she watched the monitor. Steve's face was becoming a bloody mess; he wouldn't last much longer if this didn't stop.
"PLEASE!" Claire screamed as more tears ran down her face. "Please, Alexia! I'll do anything!" Her voice broke as sobs began to rack her body. "I'll do anything… please!" she whimpered.
"Stop!" The man was about to land another punch to Steve's face when his fist stopped in mid-swing at the woman's command. "That is enough for now. You may take your leave, Mr. Death."
Softly weeping at the inhumane brutality she had just witnessed, Claire kept her eyes focused on Steve. He hung there limply against the binding straps and moaned in pain. Blood was everywhere. His poor face…
"Why?" she cried as Alexia turned and looked at her.
There was no emotion on the woman's face; no expression… nothing. She was a queen of ice; nothing seemed to faze her in the slightest. With that, Claire lowered her head and continued to sob.
"What are you willing to do, Claire?" Alexia asked.
Looking up, she silently stared at her captor. What did she ask me?
Alexia once again walked towards her. This was the first time she had noticed the blood-red jewel dangling from the large silver necklace that adorned the woman's neck. It sparkled menacingly in the light giving her an almost other-worldly appearance. Stopping in front of her, her captor continued.
"You believe me a cruel and heartless woman. I can see it in your eyes," she began, "but it is you whom I shall grant the power to decide his fate. What are you willing to do, Claire Redfield? If you are willing to do nothing, then I shall have Steve brought into this chamber and let my Hunters eviscerate him right before your eyes. His screams shall keep you company as they eat him alive, but nothing else shall befall you until I decide the time of your release. But, if you are willing to do anything as you have just promised, then now would be the opportune time to say so, and I shall leave him be."
The woman's hand found her chin and lifted her face. The stare of Alexia Ashford's intense blue eyes was unyielding as she looked down at her. "What are you willing to do?"
Claire closed her eyes and felt the warmth of new tears run down her cheeks. She was no match for this woman – that much was clear to her now. But despite the offer, she knew that she couldn't sacrifice Steve to save herself… she just couldn't. That wasn't how a Redfield was raised. Through the years, her family had proudly looked after their friends and loved ones with a fierce protective instinct… she couldn't count herself as one of them unless she was also willing to do the same for a friend. With that, Claire knew what she had to do.
"Anything…" she whispered softly as another tear rolled down her cheek. "I'll do anything… please… don't hurt him."
The scent of lilac filled her nose once again as the woman's shadow enveloped her. She could feel her captor's warm breath on her ear. "I know, Claire," she heard Alexia whisper. "I know you shall."
Almost immediately Claire felt the Ashford woman's hands begin to caress the length of her thighs. A shudder of fear took her as she looked up in shock. What was she doing? Alexia spoke no words – she didn't have to. She simply stared back at her with a silent, yet suggestive look in her eyes.
Is she trying to…?
Her thoughts went blank as she felt the woman's hands glide across her exposed belly and run over the round softness of her breasts. Claire quickly turned her head away in disgust. She had never once thought about doing anything like this before… not with another woman.
Alexia's fingers found their way to the zipper of her jacket. Soon she could hear the unmistakable sound as it ran down the length of her front, causing her to shudder again. Once undone, the woman's hands deliberately ran across her breasts as she pushed both halves of the jacket off to her sides exposing the black shirt she wore underneath.
God help me! Claire thought in a panic. Clenching her teeth together, she closed her eyes as Alexia continued to rub her. Chris! Please! Where are you!? I need you now more than ever!
Trying to struggle proved to be of no use. The bindings held her securely to the chair – there was no escape.
"Now you see, Claire," Alexia whispered to her. "All of my victims willingly choose their fate. You are no different."
"Please…" she whispered. "Stop…"
Alexia smiled broadly at the sight of her discomfort before standing up and walking over to the cart. Reaching down, her captor ran her fingers along the various implements scattered upon the tray. After finding what she had been looking for, the woman held it up to the light so that Claire would be able to see it. Her eyes widened in dread at the sight of the straight-edge razor in Alexia's hand. The woman's face held the same smirk she had shown earlier. Back then it had caused her anger to flare… this time however, it was enveloping her with fear.
With blade in hand, Alexia walked behind the chair. Soon Claire could see the shimmer of the razor out of the corner of her left eye. Her captor then began to gently caress the back of it against her cheek, causing her to wince in fear.
"Claire…" The Ashford woman's lips were next to her ear. She could hear the excitement growing in her voice. "You and I are going to have so much fun together!"
Slowly, she felt the cool kiss of the razor as it ran down the tear-stained path of her cheek. Once it reached the bottom of her face, Claire soon felt the blade descend over her chin and down the soft flesh of her neck. She was afraid. Once again the cold hand of fear was crawling up her spine; causing her body to goose-prickle. There was no defense against it. With eyes shut tight, Claire was gasping for breath while her body trembled below her.
As much as she had tried to fight against her, Alexia Ashford had frustrated her defense by keeping her off balance like a master sadist. The woman's beauty held a malevolence that she had never encountered before. While dealing with the woman's brother had been frustrating, she had only viewed him as an annoyance as she and Steve had worked on their escape. She could not say the same about Alexia however. The woman's quiet disposition held a fury and evil so terrifying that Claire began to fear that she had not even scratched the surface of what this woman was capable of.
Her thoughts were interrupted when she felt a velvet hand gently caress her throat. "You are trembling, Claire." The woman whispered to her. Alexia's lips then softly kissed her neck. "Breathe in, love. Go on… slowly."
Surprising herself, Claire obeyed and took in a deep breath. Her mind was almost completely consumed by the terror eating away at her. Rational thought was slowly evaporating; leaving her at Alexia's mercy.
While it was a struggle, she knew that she had to fight and keep her wits together. Despite being helpless to defend against Alexia's current intentions, she couldn't allow her captor to get inside her head. If her mind broke…
"Do try and hold still," Alexia cooed. "We certainly do not want to defile your beautiful skin with a cut now do we?"
The hand that had been caressing her throat slowly ran down to the collar of her shirt and took hold of it. Just as quick she could feel the blade begin to cut against the fabric. Slowly… ever so slowly the shirt began to tear under the razor's assault. Grimacing in revulsion, Claire turned her head as Alexia's right hand grasped her breast. At that moment she wanted nothing more than to cry out for the woman to stop. She stopped herself when she suddenly remembered a small portion of a poem she had read back in high school.
"When walking through the woods and encountering wild beasts does one then turn and ask them for their grace?"
There was no grace to be found here. Alexia Ashford had her trapped and was playing with her like a cat with a wounded mouse. The blade had cut through the shirt past the middle of her chest. A little lower and…
In the distance, the monitor on the wall began to beep. Alexia stopped and slowly withdrew the razor with a frustrated sigh. Setting down the blade, the blonde walked towards the monitor and raised her hand. The soldier who had beaten Steven appeared on the screen.
"What is it?" Alexia demanded as she irritably crossed her arms over her chest.
"Umm… sorry to bother you, Lady Alexia," came the man's muted reply. He was still wearing the mask she had seen him in earlier. "Radar is picking up a fighter jet on approach to the mansion's airfield."
The man's face was then replaced by an overhead view of a radar map. The fighter appeared as a yellow triangle over the Atlantic Ocean while a dotted line plotted its trajectory and destination. Alexia uncrossed her arms and stared at the screen.
"Can you identify the craft?" she asked.
The image on the screen then switched back to the soldier. In the upper-right corner of the monitor was an uploaded image of the jet. To Claire's eyes it appeared to be a Harrier fighter plane. Hadn't she seen one like that back at Alfred's prison? The soldier soon confirmed her suspicions.
"It appears to be the second of Lord Alfred's jets from Rockfort Island."
Alexia's eyes narrowed. "Are you able to determine who is piloting it?"
"Give me one second, ma'am," he replied. "I should be able to gain access to the cockpit video feed… there!"
The monitor then switched to the interior of the jet. Claire held her breath when she saw who was piloting the plane. It was her brother Chris! Leon had gotten in contact with him after all. Now he was on his way here to rescue her… and flying right into a trap! They knew he was coming! No! Chris…!
"Who is this man?"
Claire had been so focused on the fact that her brother was on his way here that she nearly jumped when Alexia addressed her. Her mind was swimming; almost as if she was trying to navigate through a fog. She wasn't sure what to do and as a result, her jaw began to quiver. Alexia's stare intensified; causing her to wilt under the woman's unyielding gaze. That was when she made a huge mistake… she hesitated. Her eyes quickly widened in fear; betraying her.
Alexia slowly walked towards her. "I can already see that you recognize him, Claire," she said while her eyes narrowed. "Who is he?"
Claire found her eyes darting from Alexia and then back to the screen – another mistake! Everything she was doing right now was betraying both herself and Chris! She was so disoriented from all that had transpired from the crash until now that all she could do was helplessly stare back at her captor. Her jaw quivered once again.
Her mind was in overdrive; trying desperately to come up with an answer. What will she do if she finds out?
Alexia's eyes seemed to pierce her to her very soul. "Very well then," she replied before turning back to the monitor. "Mr. Death, prepare the missile defense grid. You shall fire on this jet on my command."
Fire on the jet? Her mind was beginning to clear through the panic. No! Chris..! That was when she broke.
"NO! PLEASE!" she screamed in desperation.
Alexia turned. "Is there something you wish to confess to me, Miss Redfield?"
"Please… don't hurt him," she whimpered softly as new tears began forming. "He's… he's… he's my brother… my brother, Chris. He's only coming here… to look for me… please."
Alexia didn't respond at first. The woman continued doing what she always did – stare back at her with those emotionless eyes. Behind her, the video feed of her brother continued to play in the background. He was oblivious to the danger that was currently stalking him. Her eyes went to him; a silent sniff left her nose as she focused on his face. Her big brother… her savior… her hero. He was coming to rescue her… just like he always did.
Chris… forgive me… I was weak… I… I couldn't stand up to her.
"Your brother is coming to my home to save you." Alexia's cold voice took her attention away from the screen. "How sweet of him."
The woman then turned towards the monitor. "So many uninvited guests in my house. Perhaps it is time that they were culled."
That was when Claire began to feel how cold this chamber was. Whether it was the fact that it was buried beneath the snow and ice, or at Alexia Ashford's presence she couldn't say. But, the way the woman had said those words made her shiver.
"W… what… do you mean?" she asked meekly. Her voice sounded like a scared mouse praying not to be squashed under heel. How far had this woman sunk her spirit? She would soon find out however, that as low as she felt at that moment, when treading on ice one could always sink lower.
"Life and death, Claire Redfield," the woman replied before turning to face her. "The cycle cannot have one without the other. It creates a natural balance to the order of nature. Life and death – and you shall be the one to choose."
Fear – it was once again tearing at her with its claws… squeezing its hand against her throat until she couldn't breath. Her mind soon began to throb in the throes of a migraine headache as her heart pounded against her chest like a bass drum. It was as if her brain knew what was coming and was shutting down to try and protect itself from the storm that was about to fall. Deep down she already knew what Alexia was asking her to do.
"No…" she whispered.
Alexia smiled. "Life and death." She pointed at the screen behind her. "Your brother…" The image then switched to Steve. He was still in the same position he had been left in earlier; still covered in his own blood. "… or your friend? Choose one to live… and one to die."
Claire stared back at the woman in absolute horror. Alexia was forcing her to choose between the love for her brother and the budding friendship she had developed with Steve – a boy who was in love with her.
My God! she thought. How… How can I make a choice like that? I… I can't!
"No!" she replied. "No… please! Take me in their stead. My life is the one you want! Kill me… just leave them both out of this. Please… I'll give myself to you willingly."
Alexia's lips curved into a cruel smile as she once again tilted up her chin.
"Such a noble creature," she said. "I know that you would gladly trade your life for theirs. You are a woman who loves – that is why I chose you. A woman who loves has a spirit that is more difficult to break, but when she does, she shatters completely until there is nothing left."
"Please…" Claire whimpered again. She was not above begging for the lives of those she cared about. "… don't make me do this."
"All the same, you shall choose, Claire."
"No…"
"You shall choose, because if you do not, I shall have them both killed before your very eyes."
"No!" She shook her head and cried. "NOOOOOO!"
"Who shall live, Claire? I shall count to five. If you do not answer me by the time I reach the end of my count, then you condemn them both by your inaction."
The look of her captor was like ice. There was no reasoning with her; no pleading or bargaining would do. She was intent on forcing her to make an impossible choice. Chris… or Steve.
"One…"
In a panic, her eyes went to the monitor on the wall. Chris was in the cockpit checking his instruments before he leveled his gaze towards his objective. The look in his eyes was full of determination – he was planning on finding her no matter what. Suddenly, she felt herself back in the bottom of that well.
"Claire!" he had yelled down to her from above.
She had been so scared, tired, and thirsty that she almost hadn't been able to reply. "C… Chris? Chris, is that you!?"
"I'm here, Claire Bear! I'm going to get you out of there. I promise," he had replied. "I need to go back to the house and get Mom, Dad, and some rope. Don't worry. I'm coming back for you!"
"No! Don't leave me, Chris! Please! I… I'm too scared to be alone!"
She hadn't been able to see his face; only the silhouette of his head peering down into that dark hole. "Claire! Listen to me! The only way I can get you out of there is to get help. I know where you are, and I'll be back. You have to trust me. Stay brave just a little bit longer, Sis!"
He had come back just as he'd promised along with her mother and father. When they had finally pulled her out of that well, the first person she had gone to was her big brother. She had wrapped her arms around him tightly and sobbed… her hero.
"Two…"
The screen flashed to Steve. He had begun moving his head and was looking around the room.
Images of being trapped under the large hand of Alfred Ashford's giant Bandersnatch came to the forefront of her mind. The creature had grabbed her head and was ready to kill her until Steve had arrived. Jumping through the window above, he had begun shooting the monster in order for her to escape. He had saved her life. Not just there, but all throughout the mansion. So many times she would have died if he hadn't been there to protect her. They had relied on each other… and she knew he was relying on her now.
"Three…"
Terrified, her mind went back to Raccoon City. She hadn't heard from her brother in months. He hadn't responded to her calls, her letters, her email… nothing. It was as if he had dropped off the face of the earth… and that had frightened her. He had never shut her out before – not like that. So she had embarked on a quest to find him, but had instead found a new meaning for the word fear in that dead city.
She had escaped with Leon and Sherry but immediately picked right up where she had left off – looking for Chris. Now he was on his way here to rescue her from this hell, and his life was now hanging in the balance. Only she could save him.
"Four…"
Steve… he hadn't deserved any of this. His father might have been the one who had stolen secrets from Umbrella… but witnessing the death of his mother when their soldiers arrived? His subsequent imprisonment in Alfred Ashford's penitentiary alongside his dad? He had never deserved that fate. He was more innocent than anyone else on this entire island… including her.
Her head ached; her heart was pounding in her ears. The grip of fear made even the act of breathing painful. The monitor quickly became a blurred image as her tears began to distort the faces of her brother and friend. What could she do? This choice… it was impossible!
"Five…"
Time seemed to freeze for a moment when she heard the awful word. The count was up and a choice would have to be made or both of them would die. Shutting her eyes as tight as she could, she screamed a name.
"CHRIS! CHRIS!… I want…" She began to sob as her thoughts turned to Steve. Her voice was a defeated whimper. "I want Chris… to live…"
Silence greeted her response. For a moment, she thought that Alexia hadn't heard her. When she looked up however, she saw a smile on the woman's face. Claire was too spent to even feel anger over that look of triumph – triumph over the fact that Alexia Ashford had defeated her, beaten her… crushed her – both in mind and spirit.
"And who is it that shall die?"
The words echoed through the chamber. Looking at Alexia, her face pleaded for her. "Please… Don't… don't do this. I beg you… please!"
"A name, Claire, or I shall have them both killed!"
Shutting her eyes tight, she shook her head from side to side. In a desperate bid, she began thrashing herself in the chair as she pulled futilely against her bindings. Claire felt both anger and fear rolling together becoming one; creating a bitter spot in her heart that burned like nothing she had ever felt before.
"A NAME!" Alexia said loudly, bringing her attention back.
There was no choice. If she didn't say his name then Chris would…
"Steve…" she said softly. "Steve Burnside."
"Mr. Death," she heard Alexia say. "Cancel the missile strike and allow the fighter to land. See to it that he finds his way inside the mansion, is that understood?"
"Yes, ma'am."
Her choice was over, and it was here and now that Claire finally understood what Alexia had meant by emotional scarring. This was the reason why the woman had refused to torture her as she had initially feared. If she had known then what would befall her… what she would have to do… Claire would have welcomed it just like the woman had said. She was so angry… so defeated… so tired.
"Damn you!" she uttered softly. "Damn you! Damn you, damn you, damn you!"
"Now you understand… don't you, Claire?"
Understand what? That this woman was insane? That she had forced her to make the most horrible decision of her life? At that moment, Claire was full of righteous fury. While the fear was still ever-present, right now it was her rage that was welling within her heart.
Lifting her head up, she was about to scream her curses at the woman. Before she could utter a word, Alexia's hands were on her cheeks. Claire's eyes widened just as her captor's lips pressed roughly against hers. She wasn't prepared for this. Paralyzed by shock, her mind froze. She couldn't move… couldn't breathe… and even her growing desire to fight back seemed to fail her. At that moment, she then felt the woman's tongue enter her mouth.
Through all of this newfound terror that was consuming her, a small sliver of rational thought fought its way to the surface of her mind. She had to stop this! It was to that end that Claire began shaking her head until she was able to break free from Alexia's grasp.
"You bitch!" she screamed at the woman; both in anger and disgust. "Why did you…!"
Almost immediately her head began to swim in a wave of dizziness. Her stomach churned within her belly followed by a burning sensation in the roof of her mouth. The Ashford woman had done something to her!
"W… What have you…" Claire stammered as tried to catch her breath. "What have you… done to me?"
Alexia crossed her arms and smiled down at her. "I have merely given you a little gift to mark our time together. A part of the T-Veronica virus that courses through my body now runs in your veins, Claire. Very soon your body shall succumb to the infection. When that happens, you shall become my obedient slave..." The woman's smile then grew wide, "… and then you and I shall resume where we left off."
"Never!" Claire heard herself yell in response. "NEVER! I'll NEVER be your slave! No matter what happens to me I will fight against you, and I will KILL you! Do you hear me!?"
"Interesting," Alexia replied. "My father said those exact same words to me. They did not help him either. Good-bye, Claire. I shall see you in my bedchamber shortly."
Almost immediately her head lolled to the side as the infection spread through her body. The room began to shift until Claire felt the chair hit the floor followed by her head smacking against the cold stone. In the distance she could see Alexia walking toward the door leaving her where she lay. When it was opened, the two Hunters she had dismissed earlier were waiting for her like obedient slaves. Was that what this woman hoped she would become – a mindless sycophant waiting to be given orders? No… she couldn't allow that to happen.
The world was beginning to grow dim. The darkness was once again stalking after her; searching for its victim who had escaped from its clutches all those years ago. She could almost hear it hiss her name. It was back… and it wanted her! Looking towards the doorway, she could just make out the sound of Alexia's voice as it echoed in the distance.
"Take her and string her up in the atrium. I wish for her brother to get a good look at what he is up against before I meet with him. Under no circumstances is she to be harmed; her life belongs to me. As for Mr. Burnside… I shall deal with him myself."
Upon Alexia's departure, the two grotesque creatures lumbered towards her. The darkness was closing in and with it came a sinking feeling. She had failed. The click of toenails echoed throughout the chamber as the monsters drew close. Her heart was aching because she had condemned a friend to death… all because she hadn't been strong enough to protect him. She would never forgive herself… nor Alexia Ashford for what had happened here.
"Steve…" she whispered softly. Her eyelids fluttered with fatigue; she was so tired. "Steve… please… forgive me…"
There was no fighting it any longer. Slowly her eyes closed… and Claire surrendered to the darkness.
***** THE END *****