Disclaimer- I own nothing pertaining to Resident Evil, except my gaming collection.
I woke up with a start and fell off my couch when I heard some glass shatter.
"SONUVABITCH!!!" I shouted rubbing where my head hit my end table.
Then I heard another window shatter and footsteps in my house. I reach under my pillow and pulled out my trusty Glock 17. Not a Samurai Edge, but I still love this gun. Also the seventeen round clip is an added bonus. I thought to myself as I carefully checked the clip. Still fully loaded with one in the chamber. This fucker's in for a surprise. I clicked the safety off and slowly crept through my house. Nothing.
I looked at the all of my windows and none were shattered. So I went back to my room and pulled on a Punisher t-shirt and some pants. I also put my hip holster on and holstered my Glock. Lucky I'm a cop or else I would end up surrounded and in handcuffs I thought to myself. I walked back inside and sat down on my temporary bed/couch. I hadn't had much time to myself since I moved in three months ago. I've been on duty at least 15 hours a day. The few days I have off a month I spend catching up on my sleep or I hit the target range. Due to the fact I spend my free time at the range, I have easily become the best shot at the precinct. Yeah I know, I have no life. I saw a shadow move in peripheral vision. I turned my head to see what it was. Nothing, of course. Just lack of sleep, I told myself. I turned my head back and stared right into the face of a man with a gas mask on. He nods and everything goes black. . .
I woke up when I heard the door close. Looking over at my alarm clock, I realized that it was too early for Chris to get back from the station, unless he was in the same shit I was in. Man, you really shoulda thought twice about getting a roommate.
"Yeah, yeah. I've heard it all already." I told myself as I pulled a pair of pants on.
Walking out into the living room, I saw that it wasn't Chris at all. It was his sister, Claire. Feeling grateful I still slept in an undershirt, I really didn't want anyone to see the trophies from my childhood. She had a backpack with her, no doubt full of clothes for the weekend. "Aww shit, I forgot you were coming this weekend. Give me a couple minutes to clean my room."
She looked shocked that somebody was actually at the apartment during the daytime.
"Did you get switched to the night shift?" Claire asks me as I'm picking up my clothes.
"No, unfortunately I punched some reporter for running his mouth and bringing up something from my past that is best left alone. I won't tell you what it is either, so don't ask." I reply, "So I got suspended without pay til further notice, or until I apologize. Like that's gonna happen."
"Oh, well sorry to hear that."
"Don't worry about it, I shoulda kept my temper under check. Anyway, rooms clean for ya. Chris should be back around five and if you don't mind I'm gonna hop in the shower."
Walking toward my bathroom, I grabbed a change of clothes from my footlocker. Closing the door behind me and locking it, I let out a sigh of relief.
How the fuck could you forget that she was coming over this weekend? Are you a fucking idiot?
Relax, it's been a hectic couple of days, first that reporter wouldn't stop, so I punched him. Giving me a lawsuit and an assault charge. Then Irons walks in and says I'm suspended from S.T.A.R.S. til further notice. I try to reason with myself as I turn on the hot water.
Pulling the pin to start the shower I heard a familiar click, "Claire, lock-picking is not a very good habit for a nineteen year-old to develop. Please do not try to enter my bathroom until I'm outta the shower. If you have to use one, use Chris'."
Turning the shower off, I dried and got dressed. Walking into the living-room again, I saw Claire sitting on the couch. She looked at me and pouted like a five year-old.
I start laughing and tell her, "Stop it, your gonna kill me."
"Fine. but why do you lock your bathroom door and that wardrobe thing in your room?"
"I lock my bathroom, because I like my privacy. I lock the wardrobe, because it has all my guns in it. It also holds some of the S.T.A.R.S. custom weapons, I clean them and perform regular maintenance on them."
I look at the clock on the stove to avoid looking into her icy-grey eyes. Thankfully as I did so, Chris walked through the door, looking surprised that Claire was sitting there.
"What are you. How long have you. It's this weekend?" Chris stuttered out.
Pointing at me he said, "You, hall, now."
Walking out into the hall, I shut the door behind me. Looking at Chris I could tell he was pissed.
"Why didn't you call me and tell me she was here? Also thanks to your stunt, we had to sit through another lecture brought on by Wesker about behavior and how to suppress rage."
"First of all, she got here before I got outta bed. Second, I don't think you wanna be suspended either, right?"
"Don't try to turn this on me. Most of S.T.A.R.S. are pissed at what you did. Besides, everyones talking that you might not get your job back."
"I know this Chris, why do you think I've been up til three or four in the morning? I've been grabbing any applications possible and filling them out."
"Just one last question, why did you have to punch that reporter?"
"For the last time he brought up something that should never be mentioned to me. I gave him fair warning to drop the subject or I was gonna drop him, but he kept bugging me."
"Ohh poor Scott doesn't want to talk about his childhood. News flash idiot, My childhood was just as fucked up as yours."
"I know you lost your father in a construction accident when you and Claire were young. Then you lost your mother when you were sixteen. You had to take care of your sister. I know this."
"Let me guess, Claire told you all about it didn't she? Since you know sop much about my childhood, tell me yours. Then we can see who had it rougher."
"Chris I'm warning you, don't pry into matters that don't concern you."
"Your gonna tell me one way or another, even if I have to literally torture you."
"Torture won't do you any good, I've been around pain my whole life. I'm not gonna warn you again, drop it."
"Im not gonna drop this until you tell me what was so fucked up about your childhood. Didn't mommy pay enough attention to you?"
When Chris said that, I looked him in the eyes and he smirked knowing he hit a sore subject.
Walking up to him, I acted like I was going to throw a punch, but instead grabbed his throat and lifted him off the ground.
"Don't ever talk about my childhood or mom like you know what happened." I yell at him.
Dropping him back to the floor I walk back into our apartment and head to my bathroom. Picking up my pair of pants from the prior night, I grabbed my wallet and dropped them. Walking back out toward the door, I notice Claire looking at me in shock. I walk past her and open the door, only to receive a punch from Chris after I open it. Stumbling back I fell to the ground after he kicked me in the stomach. Looking up I see Claire's mouth was agape and she was standing next to my bedroom door.
Chris bent down next to me and said, "Your gonna tell me one way or another."
"Fine. You want to know what happened?" I spat at him as I got back to my feet. "Let me show you. Claire you might want to step into the other room." and I pulled off my shirt. Chris stepped back once again in shock and I heard a little scream come from Claire's direction.
"Remember how I said torture wouldn't work on me? That's because my dad was an alcoholic and he beat me, my brother, and my mom every night. When I was six, my dad beat my mom so bad, he killed her. After that he drank more and beat us more, until my brother ran away, leaving me and my dad alone in our house. He thought he could get my brother's location out of me. Every night he grabbed the same knife and peeled away my skin, little by little. One night he came in with a battery, jumper cables and rubber gloves. He tied me up in the shower and turned it on. He then kept shocking me and shocking me until the battery died. He was nice enough to feed me, if you want to call it that. My "meals" consisted of half a piece of bread and a glass of water. The only reason I endured his torture for nine years was just to make him suffer at my hands, like he made me suffer. One of our neighbors heard some commotion from our house and called the cops thinking it was a burglar or something. When they found me and my dad, he was on the ground with his neck broken and I was almost dead. They rushed me to the hospital and saved my life. Now if you'll excuse me, I'm headed out, don't know when or if I'll be back."
Heading out the door, I put my shirt back on.
I walked down the stairs with everyone near our apartment looking at me with wide eyes and in shock. Walking across the street, I entered J's bar and sat at the counter.
It might take me awhile to update this story considering I am currently part way through my other fanfic, Resident Evil: Judgement Day. Please review, even though I know most of you won't.