This is a oneshot dedicated to HUNK. It's a tie in between RE2 and Outbreak (File#1) that I just had to do after seeing the intro. I was deprived because I only played File#2 until very recently. Why is HUNK so mysterious? Why is there controversy about what he looks like? What does HUNK stand for, if it stands for anything?
So I created this. It's been beta read, but it seems that my work often times needs a delta read to look pleasing. I may revamp this in the future, but for right now this'll do.
The Legacy: HUNK
Raccoon City was nothing short of a battlefield. Two days ago this place was a thriving productive town; now death lingered in the streets, charred flesh and blood littering the derelict landscape. I had never seen anything so grisly in all my life – the shear magnitude of carnage was staggering.
It was inevitable to face the mass destruction; the string of mostly dead corpses marched on like a macabre procession. We wasted no time exterminating the 'undead' population, only being able to complete the feat by chanting the mantra that these people were already dead.
We were the Umbrella Special Forces, a small elite team divided into groups of three for this reconnaissance mission. Our orders were to retrieve a sample of the G-Virus from William Birkin. The target supposedly invented the damn curse that spread its way through the city, mutating and destroying everything in its path.
We had lost several good men already, all of whom I knew on a personal basis.
Everyone on the team had some vendetta. That was mine.
So through burnt and stinking rot we waded, preparing to make the move. The air was thick to breathe, even with an apparatus at our disposal: the gas mask was basic to our uniforms and essential for our survival.
I for one wouldn't be caught dead without one.
Dead or alive didn't seem to matter too much here it seemed – Raccoon City's populous had a hard time staying the former for long.
Our ammunition stock was running low. It was becoming increasingly difficult to keep an adequate supply of bullets on hand and we began to ration them off while looking for alternate ways to cut through the undead hordes.
I refuse to call them zombies – this is no where near a sci-fi movie for such tasteless expressions.
The smoke was still heavy here – a couple of blocks down a tanker had caught fire, incinerating everything within a half mile radius. A college and a hotel were the two biggest structures caught in the blaze. Luckily, those areas had been already evacuated.
For those who didn't make it, God rest their souls.
Hopefully their bodies were destroyed as well, so that we wouldn't have to use anymore resources to dispose of them.
"Alpha team, advance," There was a loud crackling hiss on the two way radio. Reception was bad here also – various power generators had been overloading and discharging in the area.
"Bravo team, flanking positions," barked the second command. Not as intimidating with static overlay.
"Status." Command called out.
"Tango sighted." I replied.
We waited. Obviously it had not seen us.
"Advancing." I stated, knowing that wasting our bullets on a blind enemy was a fruitless endeavor. Our target lay inside the facility.
Noting the silence on the speaker, they agreed.
There was no direct way to get to the laboratory. Raccoon city seemed to consist of back alleys and cryptic codes, both of which provided more trouble for the rescue squads than the undead masses. Our path to the good doctor was just as convoluted, heading through the tunnels to get to the underground facility. Though the chopper had dropped us off at the closest range available, we still had about a mile track downward into the hive.
Our nerves, needless to say, were grating.
Coming to a closed off area in a waterway passage, I called to the men to take a quick breather.
"Regroup. Ration supplies."
Quite few sighs of relief were heard over the two-way. A smile crept its way onto my face, the signs of humanity comforting in this godforsaken area.
"Sir." A voice cut through the dry, echo of the gas mask.
I directed my attention to the lieutenant.
"We're close, aren't we?" the officer asked.
I could feel his nervousness through the thick plastic. If I could see the soldier's eyes, I'm sure that fear would be there too.
"When will we reach zero?" Nervous fingers stroked the safety on the standard issue TMP, stock fitting snugly in the crook of the man's arm. I imagined that if I looked hard enough, I could see piercing grey eyes staring back at me. They would shift uncomfortably in my gaze, simply because I was his commanding officer.
"Twenty minutes,' I replied, the sound booming inside the rubbery mask. I flinched at how loud it made my voice seem.
The man fidgeted again before returning to the other teammates. I grabbed his shoulder before he walked too far away.
"Stay frosty, Reaper," I slapped him on the back. "This is uncharted territory. Hostiles are in the area. Even the target is deemed aggressive."
The man nodded quickly, pausing only momentarily before rejoining with the rest of the team. Both Alpha and Beta squads were busy re-distributing ammunition and medical supplies as needed. It seemed that Alpha had harder luck infiltrating than we did by looking at their stocks.
"Injuries?" I asked: more a 'safety precaution' than a check for well being.
Responses came fast and favorable.
I took a look at the elite Umbrella team. Nobody could have asked to be in a better spot. These solders were high class in every sense of the word. 'Special Forces' was an understatement – more like elite assassins, if you asked me.
Iceman. Leader of Alpha and sniper specialist, he's killed more people with a rifle than any other member on the team combined. More than once he's been my eye in the sky.
Byrne aka 'Boomer': explosives and pyrotechnics expert. Member of Alpha as well, and a soldier of the team I know least about. The other members hold him in high regard as a talented and accomplished professional.
'K' Spence was the third and final operative in Alpha. The 'odds and ends' man of the team, he mainly specialized in close quarters combat. Knives and martial arts provide a deadly combination, especially in tight situations.
Iceman's choice in soldiers has never ceased to amaze me. I had my own way of picking teammates.
Duster. He has been my right hand man on several missions and just as much a veteran on the battlefield as myself. Quick on his feet and fast in his thinking, he's the go-to man for navigation and strategy.
Reaper. Even though a kid of almost twenty-five, he's by far the best marksman on the team. He could do surgery with that TMP even before the alterations. He's the only one in the group who put a modified stock on that heap.
Then there's myself. I've had quite a few nicknames during my time of service, but none of them seemed to stick long. A name in my opinion only amounts to the deeds accomplished on the battlefield. When you've been around as long as I have, the certain familiarity of a name of a comrade can be dangerous: Does their name make a difference when their body parts are plastered on the walls?
What matters is surviving, living to complete the next objective. Our sacrifice makes the world a better place.
"Reassemble in five!" I barked, though I didn't move from my post. A cigarette would be good right about now. I'd even settle for a pinch, but these masks wouldn't allow for either.
"Sir!" Both teams crowed in unison. It seemed that they were as anxious to get this over with as I was.
"Captain," I recognized as Duster. "Beta will be entering from the southwest wall. Alpha will be most successful accessing the target from the east." Duster presented the GPA tracking device, a map of the underground facility lit on the digital readout. "The rendezvous point will be located in the southern juncture just before the sewer." He waited for confirmation as I mulled over the contents.
"Very well. Proceed as planned." I nodded, handing the readout back to the specialist.
Iceman was the next to comment. "Just like old times, eh?"
I could hear the smile just past the mask. Memory of that familiar smirk made me dismiss my melancholy attitude.
"Sure, if you include the undead guys outside." I remarked, taking the best stab I could at humor.
Though dry, the joke roused a few laughs. The closer we got to zero, the more tense the group became; alleviating the situation was the best we could do.
"I remember my first mission. Damn desert was horrible." He paused, as if considering something. "I'd take that over zombies any day."
"Agreed." K Spence loaded a clip into his standard TMP. "I can't wait to get this over with so I can take a long ass vacation in the Bahamas somewhere."
A unanimous approval sounded through the group, myself included.
"Alright, it's show time." I dismissed Alpha with a wave. "See you on the other side."
Birkin was relatively easy to track. He holed up in one of the lower levels in the laboratory and refused to come out. Unfortunately that meant having to go in there and get him.
It didn't help that he was expecting USF to take the G-Virus from him.
Alpha team intercepted him first. I could hear through open two-way as Iceman burst his way through smoke, Boomer making short work of electronic door lock confining the scientist inside.
"There he is," Boomer called over Iceman's shoulder.
"So you finally found me." An audible click was heard against the squad member's heavy breathing. The doctor had a weapon?
"Alpha, intercept." I called over the radio.
"Doctor. We're here to collect the G-Virus sample." Iceman was cool and collected, but the telltale click from disengaging the safety said otherwise.
"Sorry, but I won't just hand over my life's work." Birkin's voice cut over the two-way.
"Beta, flanking positions." I was getting a real bad feeling about this.
A loud crash erupted from the radio and the sound of a discharged weapon echoed through the ear piece.
"Status. Iceman, status!" I barked the command.
"Wait, you might hit the sample!" I heard Iceman retaliate.
The only sound was footsteps, and by the eerie silence, I knew that something was wrong.
"That's it alright. Let's move out."
"Alpha team have you retrieved the sample yet?" I cut the silence.
"Affirmative. We'll be at the rendezvous point in one minute." K Spence responded.
"Roger." I exhaled a breath I didn't know I was holding. We got it.
I motioned Reaper and Duster to intercept Alpha. All we had to do was make it to the extraction point and get the hell out of here.
We regrouped in the tunnel. Now we had to solidify our escape.
"Break into teams of two, per original plan. We're running low on munitions so stick close to each other." I breathed. We had little time – upon confirming the virus in hand, Umbrella would send an evac chopper in ten minutes.
"Iceman, you and Reaper will head Alpha: Take the sample. Duster and K Spence will take the north waterway and take point as Beta. Boomer and I will fall back as Delta and prevent any zombie attack from the rear. Is that clear?"
Soldiers nodded in agreement, moving to their destinations.
"Command. We have the package." I set the wheels in motion.
"Good work. Chopper will intercept at the evac point." The static was thicker down here, but the message made its way back.
"Confirmed." Now all we had to do was get out of here.
Duster's voice crackled over the radio. "GPS tracking indicates that we veer left, and continue straight two klicks ea…"
Any sound dissolved once we heard the grotesque, ear-shattering wail. The sound was so god awful, fear struck every chord in my body. Was it an animal?
"What was that?" Reaper called out. The phrase was voiced by Boomer in tandem.
"Let's check it out," I steeled by nerves, remembering how important the cargo we carried was. My hands still trembled slightly, despite battle experience I've endured.
Scratching erupted from a hall on the left. "Over there." I gestured, Duster hurriedly following the noise.
Suddenly a crackle started out over the two-way: Alpha team.
"Here, take this kid," Iceman belted over the two way. "Shit!" his voice erupted, followed by an incessant sputter of gun fire. "Eat this, you freak!" he cried out.
What was going on?
"It's not stopping it!" Reaper cried out.
"What is this thing…?" Iceman's voice quivered, before a static broke out on the communicator.
A painful scream sounded in the hall before them. Whatever it was, it took down Iceman. None of the undead could have accomplished that.
"Hurry!" was all that came to mind to say.
As we rounded the corner, my eyes could only fathom what it was that stood in the hall way.
Six foot tall, glistening with blood and wet skin stood what appeared to be a giant…monster, for lack of better words. A sickening grimace complimented its grotesque face, and a large oddly shaped arm clicked impatiently. It growled at our arrival, intent on attacking.
"What is that thing?" Boomer half yelled.
Then it ran at us.
"Fire, fire!" I screamed. I seen the creature lurch forward, and suddenly my body was weightless as I was propelled into a wall.
Boomer's TMP clicked. He pulled the trigger, but nothing happened. He was out of ammo.
I struggled with my TMP, scooting backwards while discharging any remaining ammo into the creature. The bullets danced across the decayed skin, yet it did nothing to halt its approach. With a rake from its giant arm, the weapon flew from my hand. It skittered across the floor, a few remaining bullets firing erratically from the unmanned gun.
I could do nothing but watch as the beast sneered, its lance like appendage poised above my body. It struck amazingly fast.
I passed out as Boomer's scream sounded through my mask, the sickening crunch of bones echoing in my ears.
My consciousness returned – how much time passed I do not know. I stilled: the monster was still there. It seemed not to notice me as it turned and sniffed the air. As far as I could tell Duster, K Spence and Reaper were all still on the move.
My body protested the subtle shift. I tried not to look at Boomer's twisted body propped halfway across the corridor.
"Captain!" My radio called out. "Respond!"
I couldn't answer if I wanted to. The creature loomed closer to the source of the sound. I tried not to cringe as it growled at the noise.
Then it was gone, faster than any creature I had ever seen before. It was only a moment before gunfire was heard
I closed my eyes and steadied my heart rate. It was K Spence and Duster.
"Sir," came a low whisper from an adjoining hallway. Somehow, Reaper escaped the attack. "Are you alright?"
The soldier crouched down, holding tightly onto one remaining vial of G-virus. It radiated a luminescent purple inside the glass tube.
"Oh god, you're been…stabbed." Reaper remarked as his fingers lightly touched my chest.
It explained why I had trouble moving. I tested my senses. Looking down at the wound, I was surprised I couldn't feel anything.
"I'll help you get out of here…" Reaper started, reaching an arm underneath me to hoist my body upright.
A shockwave of pain shot through my body. Blood gushed from the open wound at my stomach. I winced and stifled a cry in my throat.
That monster was still out there; I couldn't scream.
"No, soldier." I said. He may be able to get out of here yet, but certainly not carrying an injured man. That creature moved fast. Too fast.
Reapers hands stayed. I lay with my back on the ground. I could feel the cold leeching into the military issued fatigues. I could hear the steady dripping of water from pipes above me.
"What do I do?" Reaper sounded defeated. The TMP slid down and tapped against the ground. The soldier was just beside me, resting on his knees.
"Complete the objective. It's only thing that matters."
Even with the mask I could see Reaper look at me incredulously. "I'm not leaving you here!" the exclamation on an edge of a whisper.
"Soldier, I'm dead already. Many more people are going to die unless you get that sample back to Umbrella." I gritted my teeth as a cold pain shot through the center of my body. It was freezing in here. "We need to make the sacrifices; it's what my mentor told me."
Reaper nodded his head. He was shaken, but pulling himself together.
He'll make a good soldier.
My name is Reese Walker, Captain of the Umbrella Special Forces Unit.
My story started a long time ago on a battlefield of its own. The situation was similar; my commanding officer had been taken down by flak in the middle of enemy territory.
We called him HUNK: Human Unit Never Killed.
Known for cheating death, he was the best soldier the military had. The incident that claimed him down was a fluke, a random occurrence that would've never taken an officer's life.
He simply said that his luck ran out.
He had been sent on several different reconnaissance missions, single man infiltrations, assassinations…all of which no one could be expected to come back alive.
Despite the odds he always did. He became renowned as a specialist, an expert in enemy warfare.
A legend.
I watched as he lay there dying, and my world had been turned upside down. How could a man who had done so many good things, faced so my tribulations, be left to such a trivial fate?
My luck just…ran out, he said.
I was the only survivor form our squad that made it out alive. They say I cheated death. I knew the truth.
You need to pass the tradition along, soldier.
I was young and barely experienced enough to handle fatalities on the battlefield. I waited and listened.
My codename was passed onto me from my old mentor, he said. I want you to use it.
So I did. I became HUNK. I escaped a war determined to end my life. I've been alive ever since.
"I guess my luck just…ran out." I must have sounded delusional by the way Reaper had cocked his head to the side. "What's your name, soldier?"
Reaper whispered. "Cooper, sir. James Cooper."
"Very well, Cooper. I want to entrust you with something very important to me. A codename was passed onto me from my old mentor. Hero is not a word to be thrown around lightly, but he was that in every sense of the word."
Reaper nodded in understanding. A perfect calm came over the young man, so much that I couldn't even tell if he was breathing.
"You are going to make it out of this godforsaken town. You will survive. You will become HUNK."
The words were harder to speak now and I stopped, the pain rendering everything useless.
"I understand." His voice took on that of a more mature tone. Fear was all but gone, determination replacing the emotion.
An inhuman growl from one of the tunnels raised both of our attentions.
"Get the hell out of here, now." I breathed, letting my head fall back on the hard concrete.
He hesitated only slightly, giving a side long glance as he rushed the hall. His foot steps echoed until I could no longer hear them.
It was back to the slow dripping of water from the pipes overhead.
I didn't have much time. I felt my eyes grow heavy and the cold consume me.
From the steady dripping another sound caught my tentative hearing. It sounded like a squeak; that of finger sliding across wet glass. Faint, delicate, and just barely audible.
Another; somewhat closer. I wanted to sit upright to find out what it was, but my body was long from cooperating. Maybe my mind was playing tricks on me, taking blood loss into consideration, it was possible.
Something heavy pushed against my chest. A small form covered the red lens of my gas mask.
Rats.