It's Now or Never
An original Resident Evil fiction written by: Xenogears
The following is an original story using elements from the game series, Resident Evil, created by Capcom. Any Resident Evil likeliness, similarities, or direct takes are used without permission. Anything relating to anyone, whether alive or dead, is purely coincidental, and unintended.
For Catherine, Dina and Go Eun, for teaching me what the halter shirt is, and for being three of the nicest girls I know.
Prologue/Chapter One:
And So It Begins
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September 2, 2002
Skokie, Illinois
Unknown Underground Laboratory
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The scientist walked purposefully through the door of the fluorescent-lit laboratory and sat down at a computer terminal near the end of the room. Logging in under another co-worker's name, he accessed the laboratory's mainframe, and from there, he accessed the command files. After a few keystrokes and a mouse click or two, a list of all the chemicals the laboratory contained in its vast confined came up on his monitor. He selected the one that would start it all: the T-Virus. Yes, finally, his grand creation could finally get to see its first round of true testing. What better way to test its effectiveness than on a large population? True, the effects could be devastating, but he did not care much for the people within the township…beyond being test subjects, that is.
As the pressure in the chemical holding tanks increased, he cracked a large-toothed smile, adjusting the glasses on the bridge of his nose. Sure, the alarm would activate any minute, but while the lab was in confusion, he would escape and wait for the time to act. His smile widened as he imagined the virus leaking into the atmosphere and, within a month or two, infecting the whole community. There would be no way that the corporation could cover up this one. When the time was right, after he had seen the effects of his creation (not those fatcats above him who wanted to call it their own) and then modify it, perfect it and then finally…well, his options were almost limitless.
Rising from the chair, he grabbed his suitcase and turned for the door, keeping his free hand on the revolver in his pants pocket. Since he had administered to himself a sample of the vaccine, he could take his time escaping, then lock everyone else down in the laboratory. Well, there would be a few that were on the surface by now, but chances were that they would eventually get infected, too.
It was then that the lights suddenly went a dark, flashing red and klaxons began their blaring wail throughout the laboratory complex.
"And so it begins," he murmured to himself.
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October 9, 2002
Skokie, Illinois
McHenry Residence
5:34 AM
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The young man slept peacefully without snoring, trying desperately to catch some semblance of six hours of sleep before his alarm went off. All was going well. That is, until 5:45, when his alarm wrenched him from the warm embrace of sleep and pulled him back into the world of the living. He groaned and slammed down his fist on his snooze bar.
'God, how I hate high school...'
Turning off the alarm, he fell out of bed. 'Clothes, that would help.' He grabbed a random shirt from the drawer. Any color would do, since he always wore blue jeans. Bathroom next. Turn on the light. Start a hot bath. While the water ran, he looked at himself in the mirror with his brown, droopy eyes that were still adjusting to the light, forcing him so squint.
His messy cap of light brown hair sent a bang or two down into his eyes, forcing him to brush it away. Standing at five foot eleven, at the age of seventeen going on eighteen, he was a bit muscular for his age but by no means a Hulk Hogan. This was Mathew McHenry, or just Matt as he preferred to be called. He was a senior at Niles West High School, with above-average grades and dreams of becoming the best trauma surgeon in the United States. Stifling a yawn, he stretched out his body and pulled off his clothes. Climbing into the bathtub, he lay back with his eyes closed for a few minutes, making sure to catch just as much sleep as he very well could.
He was out of the tub by just before 6:00. Get dressed, breakfast, hair, teeth, teeth again, pack up books—the daily routine—and made it out the door by 6:40. He was one of the first people at his bus stop, giving him time to work on some of his martial arts, working with the basic hand-to-hand forms with some basic moves thrown in. As his master had told him, he should practice whenever he could, even if it was for only a few minutes or so. He only had five or so minutes before other students would start to arrive, but he used his time wisely. By 6:50, people started to arrive at the bus stop. Walking toward him were two of his three closest friends, Peter Safian and Craig Miller.
Matt greeted them with a smile, "What's up, guys?"
Craig, who was the least awake of the three, answered with, "The same freaking thing, McHenry. I'm tired as hell, and I just managed to get myself up."
"No wonder it was so hard for you," Peter smirked, indicating Craig's body mass. "I mean, there is a reason we call you 'tons of fun.'"
Craig threw a blind punch at Peter, who dodged it with a laugh. "Oh, shut up," Craig retorted.
"Nothing wrong with telling the truth," Peter said, still smiling.
Peter was Matt's age and height, with light brown hair and startling aqua blue eyes. Among Matt's friends, Peter was the smartest. Being in the top five percent of their class, he was never off the High Honor Roll. What was surprising was the career he had in mind. Just a few months before, he had been sworn into the Marine Corps, which he had wanted to do his whole life. Because of his high intelligence and thin frame, his friends thought it something completely out of the ordinary for him. Even two days a week of vigorous Physical Training—Peter had taken to calling it PT—hadn't done much to increase his body mass.
Craig was the heaviest of them, but not obese by any means. He was 5' 8", with short black hair and dark brown eyes. Of Matt's friends, he was also the least academically inclined, with a C average and a fairly poor homework record. Working for him, though, was his knack for art as well as musical instruments of any kind.
Matt was still smiling when he growled, "Cut it out. You know what'll happen if you guys get reported play-fighting at a bus stop: two Saturdays."
"Aghhh," Craig answered, shrugging. "They won't catch me."
This time, Matt couldn't help but throw a line at Craig. "Craig, a Hippo suffering from constipation could catch you if it wanted to. Heck, it might even chase after you a little faster, regarding you as one of its own kind."
"Not you, too, Matt?"
Matt slyly linked his arms behind his head and leaned on one leg, cracking a wry smile. "Hey, it's your fault for leaving yourself wide open."
Just then the school bus arrived. The three loaded onto the bus, heading for the back. Just as the bus doors started to close, they could hear a distinctive shout from nearby:
"Heee—y! Don't go yet!"
Matt, Peter, and Craig rolled their eyes as one. A few seconds later, their fourth friend, Kevin MacDonald, jumped onto the bus. Towering over Matt and Peter by three inches, Kevin was the tallest as well as the thinnest of the four. He had spiked dirty-blond hair and, like Peter, wore small wire-frame glasses over deep blue eyes. He sported a pair of jeans and a thin black leather jacket, as usual.
Among the four, he was the laziest, waking up late, not doing all his homework, rushing to get any unfinished work done by the end of the marking periods…the list went on and on. For someone so lazy, however, he still hung onto the second or third place behind Peter in the top five percent of the class, who specialized in Advanced Physics and Trigonometry/Pre-calculus. He knew that if he would get most of his homework done, he would definitely surpass Peter in class rankings.
Matt, Craig, and Peter turned and laughed at their friend, who promptly responded with a middle finger. "Screw you, guys," he snarled with the best tough-guy humor he could dredge up this early in the day.
While Peter, Craig, and Kevin sat down near the middle of the bus, Matt went all the way to the far back. Sitting there, eyes closed and perhaps dozing, was his long-time friend and girlfriend of no more than four months, Ji Hae Park.
When standing, she was barely 5' 3", with raven hair that went down just past her collarbone and had one or two blond highlights—today it was tied in a bun—and wire-framed glasses over her chocolate-colored eyes. Matt had known her since the fourth grade, when she was still an ESL student. Though she now spoke English fluently and intelligently, she spoke it with only the slightest trace of an accent. She was also thin and a bit sickly for her age, due to being born with anemia. Because of that, her skin was always a bit pale, and she was hit by the flu and colds harder and more often than most. She also suffered from an ever-so-slight case of cerebral palsy in her right hand, causing it to twitch involuntarily from time to time. It was because of these disabilities that ever since Matt had known her he had felt an urge to protect her, something that her own parents did as well.
Using the only words he knew in Korean, he greeted her with, "Ahn yung."
Opening her eyes, she turned to him with a smile. "Ahn yung, Matt," she said, and, moving over to give him room, she gave him a quick kiss on the lips. "Morning."
"Yeah, morning," he said, returning the kiss. "So what's up with you?"
Ji Hae shrugged. "Nothing, really. Just had to finish that really long assignment in Spanish."
"What? All those things in Más Practica and the reading?"
She nodded. "Yeah. That's it."
She sighed and leaned her head on Matt's shoulder, which prompted Matt to wrap his hand around her waist. "I'm so tired. All these AP classes are killing me."
Matt looped his arm around her waist, leaning his head into hers. "Yeah, well, you have to perform well to get noticed by the Ivy Leagues, right?"
Ji Hae shrugged. "Yeah. I guess..."
Matt chuckled. Turning to look her dead in the eye, he raised her chin with his free hand. "Don't sweat it, Ji Hae. You're one of the smartest girls that I know…and also one of the most pretty." She blushed furiously at his compliment, causing him to chuckle once more. "I'm telling you that you'll do fine. Don't overwork yourself; take a break now and then, but don't let up either."
She smiled and leaned back into him, saying nothing. As far as he was concerned, her eyes and her body had told him enough. And so began a normal day in the lives of Matt, Peter, Craig, Kevin, and Ji Hae.
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October 9, 2002
Skokie, Illinois
Niles West High School, PE Field House
11:35 AM
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Running around the indoor track, Peter tried to keep his breathing at a steady pace. Even though Marine Physical Training had shaped him up, he still felt that he had room left for improvement, and so he took mandatory Physical Education very seriously. As on any Wednesday, PE was about running around the indoor track of the field house to some jock music, stopping when it stopped and running or jogging when it played. As he neared his fifth lap, the music stopped again, giving him time to walk and rest a bit. Glancing off to the side he saw Matt's girlfriend, Ji Hae, sitting off to the side, looking down at her feet. While she wasn't technically part of the group's circle, she was still considered a friend and therefore, the entire group looked after her, not just Matt.
Peter left the track to greet her. "What's up, Ji Hae? Why you sittin' out?"
"Huh?" Ji Hae looked up from the floor at the sound of his voice. "Oh, it's just one of those days. I really wish I could run with you guys, but I just can't today."
"Come on. Try."
"I did."
Peter reached out his hand for her. "Come on up before I pull you up, civvy." He affected a gruff voice and barked, "Haul your be-hind into gear."
Ji Hae stared at his hand for a time before finally taking it with a frown. "Sir, yes, sir."
He affected a warm smile and gave a slight chuckle. "That's better. Just take it easy. Don't push yourself too hard."
The music started up again, the same old rather annoying music that he could hear any time he went to a Bulls game…that is, if he could have dragged himself to see the horrendous team even play. After another lap or two (Peter wasn't really paying attention to the number of laps he was running anymore), Craig and Kevin came jogging up behind them.
"Hey, Safian," Craig panted. "Have you heard?"
"Heard what?" Peter responded.
"You know, those weird murder cases? About the people getting eaten?"
The infamous murder cases of Skokie. So far, there had been twelve victims in the cases, all of them either cut into pieces, or eaten, presumably alive. The police had no idea who the perpetrator was. The press however found a leak in their information and reported that the police were speculating that the person, or people, was trying to be a real-life Hannibal Lecter. While it frightened the entire community enough to keep many people from walking the streets, Peter was confident that the case could be solved, and would be soon.
He scoffed. "Yeah? So?"
"So?" Kevin said, his voice rising over the music. "I just read it in the school paper—there's been some more. The police are thinking of calling in the FBI."
Peter raised an eyebrow. "And this has what to do with me?"
"Well," Craig said. "Since most of the victims were from the area around Searle Labs, they're going to start questioning us, right? Plus, your father works in the labs. They're going to be putting him under the lamp too, you know."
"Please," Peter scoffed once more. "Like that's going to happen? If it did, what would my dad know? If he knew anything, he'd go straight to the police."
The music stopped again, and everyone slowed to a walk.
Craig threw up his arms defensively. "I'm just wondering, that's all."
"Peter," Ji Hae was stumbling over to them, breathing hard, her face flushed. "I'm going to sit it out. I'm feeling real bad."
Peter nodded with a friendly smile. "Well, at least you tried. Can't ask for more."
Ji Hae went over to the side and sat down against the white brick wall, leaving the three boys alone. Looking back, Peter saw that Matt stopped on the track, went over to Ji Hae, and sat down next to her.
"Those two," Peter said to Craig and Kevin, motioning to Matt and Ji Hae. "They've been around each other more lately."
Kevin snickered. "Yeah. It's completely unlike him to give much attention to those of the fairer sex."
Craig, being the hopeless romantic, smiled. "I dunno. I see those two going places together."
Peter and Kevin snapped their heads to Craig staring at him in disbelief. How could something so...smart...came out of his mouth?
"I guess you're right," Peter said, shrugging his shoulders. "They do look good together."
Without warning the music started up again, sending most of the students in the field house into a run.
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October 9, 2002
Skokie, Illinois
Outside Searle Pharmaceuticals
10:33 PM
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It just wasn't Officer Brandon Provus' day. He was expecting to get some time off today, then he found out that he got reassigned to the graveyard shift. Of all the goddamn things, the freaking graveyard shift!
'It's times like this that make me wonder why I became an officer in the first place,' he thought. 'Maybe I should join in Chicago, or the LAPD? Hell, at least their graveyard shifts are a lot more exciting than this crap.'
He sighed heavily, something that he had been doing often lately. They hadn't even bothered to give him a partner yet! The bureaucracy of this police force was screwed up beyond belief. And so he sat in his seat of his squad car, waiting, just waiting for something to happen—a couple of kids violating curfew, a speeding vehicle, anything. The town was so quiet. It wasn't normal. After all, with a population of close to 70,000 it was not a low-populated suburb even for the Chicago metropolitan area. They even touched borders with the city at a small point in the southern part of the township borders.
'Why is it so quiet? So...still?' he wondered, surpressing a shiver. 'It gives me the creeps.'
He watched the nothing unfolding in front of him for awhile, until he began drifting toward the lull of sleep. He slept a short but dreamless sleep. Snapping awake, he looked at his watch: he had been out for well over an hour. Cursing at himself, he sat up straight and stifled a yawn. No way to do a shift, even if nothing was going on. He rubbed his eyes dreary and continued to watch.
Scanning his droopy eyes back and forth across the dark dreariness of the night Provus' eyes caught a glimpse or something perhaps thirty or forty yards ahead of him: the outline of a person walking unevenly, swaying and lurching in the street. Though it was hard to discern in the darkness of the near-morning hours, he thought the person looked rather drunk. Provus sighed. It wasn't much, but it was something.
"This is Provus," Provus called into his radio. "I'm going off to investigate a...what was it? Oh hell, I'm going off to look for drunk. I don't need any backup. Over."
The radio was silent. Indignantly, Provus jammed the "send" button on his walkie-talkie once more.
"Hey! Anyone there? Over."
Again, no response. Butterflies started to swarm in his stomach.
"Maurice? If you're bullshitting me again..."
A throaty moan came from the other side of the communication line. Provus sighed again.
"Dammit, Maurice. I'm gonna kill you for pulling this shit with me when I get back."
He turned down his radio. Bringing out his flashlight, he went in pursuit of the drunken person. He walked down the street, toward the post office near Madison Elementary School, taking casual steps. He watched the outline of the person going into a nearby residential alley—and, frowning—he followed.
His heart rate speeded up just a notch. Licking his dry lips, he proceeded into the alley. The person he was after wasn't anywhere to be seen.
"Hello?" He called out. "This is the Skokie Police. Is anyone there?" He waited another moment before calling out again, "Hello? Sir? Ma'am? Anyone?"
For the third time that night, he was getting no response. He took a few steps forward, and then he heard it: a moan, just like the one that he heard over the radio. But more throaty, more...wet. His heart lurched. Then, the sound like something wet being ripped, torn to shreds. What the hell was going on? He looked around, hoping that he could find the source of the sound, but whatever it was it wasn't within his field of vision. Attuning his ears, he listened, trying to trace the source of the noise.
He drew his Beretta M92F, and cautiously walked forward. Following his ears, he took the right turn in the T of the alley, and just as he rounded the corner his light shone on someone not far away sitting near a garage door with ripped, dirty, and bloodstained clothing hunched over...something.…
Shining his light on what he was hunched over, Officer Provus cried out in surprise and horror at the sight before him, almost dropping his flashlight in the process. The thing on the ground was a human corpse; its face torn open, its jaw hanging on by a thin line of muscle; chest cracked open like a shellfish, exposing all of the tissues, bones organs underneath. It was missing one eye, and the one that remained was bulged out of its socket, frozen open in an expression of pure terror.
Provus aimed his gun and shouted, "S-stop! Freeze! Turn around! Now!"
The person stopped...eating the person on the ground, and slowly came to his feet, turning around.
"When you turn around drop to the..."
His sentence was cut short when he saw the assailant. The smell of rotting flesh reeked from the creature before him. It had grayish, rotting skin, with several open wounds in various places on its chest, legs, and neck—nowhere near as bad as what had been done to its previous "meal". Its bloody mouth was full of twisted, discolored teeth. Turning fully to face him, it reached its arms for the officer, and stumbled forward, letting out a gurgling moan. Officer Provus backed away, keeping his aim steady.
"Freeze! Stop!" The creature made no sign of hearing him. It continued to stumble forward. "Stop, or I'll shoot, dammit!"
And shoot he did. The 9mm bullet that hit the creature squarely in the chest made it stumble back a bit, but otherwise, it kept its slow advance. Within a split second, Officer Provus realized what this thing was. He knew that the laws of nature and physics disallowed such a thing from happening, but he couldn't ignore what stared him in the face. The sudden shock that hit him like a sack of bricks was like nothing he had ever experienced.
'Zombie!' his mind screamed.
Recalling the Dead movies he was so fond of, he aimed for the head and fired once again. The bullet hit the zombie squarely in the forehead, blasting its brain matter out the back of its skull, splashing it against a garage door. The creature fell backward with the grace of a rag doll, and did not rise again. Provus stumbled back, taking a deep breath.
'Something is really fucked up around here...' he thought.
As his head spun, trying to make sense out of what he had just seen, he didn't notice the stumbling form behind him. He only felt something cold grab him, and then a sharp, intense pain in his shoulder. He screamed, and thrashed his arm out, hitting the thing in the assailant and knocking him to the ground. Grabbing at the searing pain emanating from his shoulder, he felt a part of his left shoulder gone.
Without even thinking about it, he aimed for the zombie that had bitten him, and spilled its brain matter on the asphalt of the alley with a trigger pull of his Beretta. He grabbed his shoulder once more, and groaned in pain as his hand touched the wound. Tearing off a piece of his pants, he tied it over his wound, and tried to go on despite the dizziness that was slowly creeping up on him. He had to get back to the station before he bled out or went into shock. It was his only chance.…
Stepping back into the main alley, he froze. Perhaps forty, fifty feet ahead of him was a pack of zombies—there were so many he couldn't even count them all. He wasted no time turning the way he came, and ran as fast as he could for his car. He reached it and, with his entire body screaming bloody murder, flung himself into the driver's seat. He locked his doors and turned the key in the ignition. Taking a moment to breathe, he looked at his wound in the mirror. Indeed, a part of his left shoulder was missing, rendering that arm next to useless. Cursing at the pain again, he groaned.
A sudden pounding at his window sent his heart jumping into his throat. His car was surrounded by the creatures, all of them moaning hoarse, primal cries, hungry for flesh. He shifted into reverse and accelerated, running over a few of the creatures in the process. He shifted into drive and, his shoulder thrumming agony at the sudden move, spun violently with a loud, long screech! and went at top speed for the station.
'God,' he thought as he sped down the street. 'I should never had joined the police force in the first place...'
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And thus, the end of the first chapter. Now, before I go on, I would like to state that this is not, I repeat, not a self-insert. Let me say that again. This is not a self-insert. The location of Skokie, and any other locations used inside the township are real, or at least a conjuring of memories of my short time there.
I've been out of action for awhile, but I personally think that I've actually improved my style a bit, to make it easier to read. I dunno though. I guess that's up to you to decide. Reviews, questions, comments, suggestions, criticism, flames; all are welcome.
Beta-readers: F. Buckley, K. O'Laughlin
Editors: MayumiH, F. Buckley
Draft: 11/26/02 (11:10 PM)
Final: 4/18/03 (10:10 PM)
Final ver.2: 9/2/05 (2:33 PM)