Chapter 1

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A seemingly endless night-time forest spread almost menacingly beneath the violent whirring of the chopper blades.
Chris Redfield gazed down at the dark foliage from his seat beside the smudged side-window and felt a distinct pang of unease in his chest.

They were out in this cold, desolate area at this god-forsaken hour to search for S.T.A.R.S (Special Tactics And Rescue Service)
Bravo team, Alpha team's backup, with whom they had lost contact over 18 hours had been here investigating several grisly murders up here in the Arklay mountain region, northwest of Raccoon City, where victims were reported to have been brutally attacked and, apparently, eaten.

Bravo had been leading the preliminary sweep of the area, gathering intelligence ready for Alpha team to follow up.

But communication between Bravo and Alpha back at the Raccoon Police Department had dwindled and eventually ceased altogether. Short, indistinct messages received from Richard Aiken, Bravo team's telecommunications expert, had sounded hurried and vague, which had suggested they had run into trouble of some sort.

Chris narrowed his eyes and turned his attention back to re-assembling his MK-70 handgun, something he often did when he got anxious.

Clip out, barrel off, hilt apart, check clip, clip back in...

"Chris...?" He flinched and looked over at the slightly concerned face of Jill Valentine, her brown hair impeccable underneath her tilted navy beret. Her features shone with genuine worry about her troubled team-mate, whom she knew well after all their years of service together. "Chris, why are you so nervous? This isn't like you. It's just a precautionary check up on the Bravo team, nothing that serious, you know?" She smiled warmly over at him.

Chris hesitated before returning her smile half-heartedly,
"I wouldn't say nervous, more... well... it's like I just have this feeling that this isn't any ordinary mission here...Like it's something...dangerous that's been going on in those mountains..."
He shrugged, looking back down at the handgun resting on his lap, "Just a stupid hunch, I guess."

Jill cocked her head to the side, frowning a little.
"Why wouldn't it be? What do you think happened, when we lost contact with them?"

Chris sighed heavily, placing his handgun into it's holster on his black utility belt around his light green padded gelait.
"Oh God, I don't know. It doesn't matter; forget I said anything, okay?" He turned away and stared moodily out of the side-window. Jill's expression softened and she slid smoothly across the bench to sit beside him.

"Hey, look, I wasn't being funny with you, okay? All I meant was, what possibly could have happened to them? I'm sure they're fine, perhaps it's the mountains blocking our signal?" She paused.
"It'll be okay, Chris. Really." He tilted his head back towards her, his lips twitching into a smile.

"Yeah, I know..." His eyes met hers, "Sorry, Jill. I'm being stupid, we should be focusing on the operation at hand. I'm letting this get to me." He sat up straight and began scouring the forest below again for any trace of the missing Bravo team. Jill smiled to herself: he had that determined look back, the Chris that everyone knew: Strong, dedicated and unwilling to give up. The pride of S.T.A.R.S.

"Hey!" the shrill voice of Brad Vickers crackled over the radio, "You guys seen anything yet? It's so damn dark out there, I can barely see where I'm going..."

"Not yet, Brad," Chris removed and spoke clearly into the radio from his belt compartment, "But we'll keep on looking. You just focus on not getting us lost, right? We're kinda screwed if you run us off course out here in the mountains, you know, with the rate this thing drinks up fuel."

"Hey, I'm not a complete idiot, you know, I did train for this job!" Brad called back, slightly annoyed, "I'll get you there in one piece. Just keep an eye out that window, yeah? I gotta concentrate."

"Look, Chris!!" Jill called suddenly, motioning rapidly towards her side-window. Chris leapt over and peered down into the gloom below. He could just make out what Jill was pointing to: a solitary helicopter lay dilapidated against the forest floor, various tree trunks lay splintered against and around it. He distinguished the large, deep blue and black S.T.A.R.S logo splayed across the side.

"What!? What is it?! What can you see?!" Brad shrieked anxiously through the radio, slowing the chopper's acceleration to a crawl.
"I can see Bravo team's helicopter, Brad, you need to take us down! I'll get Captain Wesker!" Chris spoke loudly into the transmitter, and hastily threw open the dividing door leading to the back compartment of the chopper.

"Captain Wesker, we've spotted Bravo team's helicopter down below! Brad needs permission to land."

The familiar calm and unreadable face of Albert Wesker turned from the window to regard Chris from behind his black shades. He quickly ran a tanned hand over his slicked-back blonde hair before rising and nodding,

"Affirmative. Permission granted, tell Brad to take us down as close to the site as possible. Barry and I will lead the preliminary search."

Barry Burton looked up immediately from his seat in the far corner, readying his prized Magnum revolver and setting his face into its usual hardened, lets-get-to-business look.
"Ready at your command, Captain Wesker," grunted Barry.

Joseph Frost, who was sat rigidly next to Barry, simply murmured a little and tightened his red bandana around his shaven head, grasping his favourite shotgun to his chest, eyes flickering to the floor. Chris nodded, motioned a quick salute and departed back to the main compartment, where Jill sat, readying her handgun and checking her various supplies. Chris walked past and entered the cockpit, settling into the empty seat next to Brad.

He motioned at Brad to shift one side of his earphones over to speak to him directly.
"Wesker's given permission to land, you need to take us down as close to the site as you can." Chris pointed out of his side window, "The helicopters grounded down over there, where do you think you can land?"

Brad's eyes were narrowed into dark brown slits, squinting into the feebly-lit gloom outside from beneath his too-big communications helmet and huge earphones, which rested lopsidedly on his head. His young, anxious face shone with beads of sweat, and his front teeth nibbled at his bottom lip nervously.

"Well... the safest place would be that clearing a ways over to the east there, to make sure I can land and take off again without hitting any trees and slicing the blades off, yeah? That close enough?"
"Heh...Anything to get away from the action, huh Brad?" Chris grinned as Brad recoiled in humiliation. "Kidding! Yeah, that should be fine, head for that clearing, I'll group with the others.

"Roger that. Taking her down."

Chris felt a cool blast of damp air hit his skin as he cautiously stepped out of the chopper, and he couldn't help shivering slightly. His MK-70 was raised as he side-stepped to let the others off, his eyes trying to adjust to the enclosing dark of the forest. Jill drew up to his side, adjusting her thick shoulder pads.
"Well I guess we should start with Bravo's helicopter." She clutched her elbows to herself and shivered, "Jeez, it's freezing up here. Let's just check this place over, find Bravo and get the hell out."

Chris nodded, teeth chattering a little,
"I agree. Wesker and Barry are leading the search, so we should bring up the rear."

Wesker strolled casually out of the chopper, fingering his custom handgun almost lovingly. Barry came after, his steel eyes set unmoving from the deep forest ahead, followed closely by Joseph.

"Hey, you guys be careful out there, I have a pretty bad feeling about this place..." called Brad from the cockpit.

"You and me both..." thought Chris sullenly.

He poked his head partway into the chopper. "You know, we could maybe use a hand searching this place? The more pairs of eyes we have, the better, then we can get out of here as fast as possible." There was silence for a moment, then an anxious cough.

"Ummm...I think I'd probably better stay here... you know, to secure the escape route and that... in case there's trouble..." He lapsed into an embarrassed silence.

Chris smirked to himself, unsurprised by this outcome. "Sure thing... chickenheart ..." He added in a playful tone.
"OI!!! Don't call me that, jerk! I was being serious! Just get out there already! Dick..."
Chris was laughing to himself as he joined the others, Wesker and Barry beginning to lead the way into the shadows of the looming forest.

"What's so funny? Teasing Brad again? We've got work to do, Chris," scolded Jill, and Chris snorted a final time before turning his thoughts back to the task at hand. As they approached the grounded helicopter, Wesker paused and turned to face them.

He addressed them in a confident, yet drawling tone, "Right, Joseph will go investigate the helicopter, Barry and I will investigate the perimeters, and Chris and Jill, you search for any secure buildings in the area. Move out."

Joseph hesitated before moving determinedly towards the helicopter. Wesker and Barry paced quickly over to the west, disappearing into the misty gloom. Jill and Chris exchanged glances, nodded and moved in the opposite direction, keeping ever vigilant as the eerie sound of night-time insects and low thunder encased them.

Joseph approached the helicopter, and found the site to be utterly derelict. The thin trees surrounding had been splintered and felled by the blades, suggesting it had landed in a hurry, careless of the surroundings. He could see from a way away that the main door was ajar, and an unsettling quiet surrounded the abandoned machine. He edged warily towards it, shotgun poised, all senses trained on the site ahead.
He reached the main door and paused, back to it, before peering cautiously round the corner and into the helicopter itself.

At first, he saw nothing, his strong flashlight revealing only broken wiring and overturned cargo, the control panels fizzing quietly and showering dim sparks. He moved the flashlight over the ruined contents, and a sudden glint from the floor caught his eye.
He moved the light slowly downwards, and let out a startled gasp from the back of his dry throat.

The glint was from a blood-covered communications helmet, which contained the still head of Kevin Dewey, Bravo team's pilot.

His face was a ghastly off-white colour, his mouth agape in a silent agonized scream. His right eye was gone, the empty socket covered with three large, deep scratch-marks. Joseph stared wide eyed at the mutilated corpse, his mouth quivering, and he drew in a painfully sharp gasp of air.
He backed up jerkily, stumbling over rocks and roots. She stood in stunned silence for a moment or two, hardly believing what he'd just seen. He twitched his head away and tightened his grip on his shotgun.

"But...what about the others? Is the rest of the Bravo team...?...Shit..." He steadied his breathing and composed himself, "Gotta regroup...We have to find the others, and fast..."

He stole a last glance at the ravaged helicopter before starting shakily back towards the chopper. He'd been going 10 seconds or so when a sudden crunch of leaves made him stop in his tracks.
He strained his ears against the murky darkness as the crunches lapsed into a deafening silence.
Joseph remained frozen, his eyes twitching back and forth across the shadowy landscape ahead.

Another crunch from his left. He spun round immediately, his finger brushing the trigger of his shotgun.
His breathing came out in ragged gasps, his heart pounding fit to burst.
After a few moments of silence, he lowered the gun slightly, breathing a little deeper. He was about to carry on when a low growl emerged from the bushes behind him.

He twirled round just in time to scream as a huge, rotting Doberman hound leapt at him, fangs bared and dripping with saliva.

He was thrown to the floor under the sheer power of the beast, shrieking in agony as it savaged his face, tearing the flesh from his cheeks and lips. He fired a single shell from his shotgun with his last ounce of strength, managing only to scatter crows from the overhanging branches of the surrounding trees.
The air exploded with howls as more hounds joined the fray, ripping at his legs and arms, devouring meat and crunching bone.

The last thing Joseph saw was the gaping mouth of the Doberman, his own blood and flesh dripping in chunks from it's savage fangs. His last feeling one of utmost agony and despair as his life was brutally consumed, choking and spluttering as death's bitter taste was thrust upon him.

A single shot pierced the air. Chris twitched his head sharply towards the noise, as a multitude of crows flapped frenzily above their heads and into the distance. Chris turned to Jill: They exchanged a shocked look and a nod, before jogging quickly towards where the noise had come from.

Chris broke off to the west as Jill carried on ahead, approaching the helicopter site. There was a disturbing munching noise emanating from the darkness.
Jill held her breath, pointing her flashlight so slowly towards the cause of the noises.
A pack of six rabid-looking dogs were tearing at something stretched out at an awkward angle below them. Her dark eyes widened as she saw partially chewed fingers and a bloodstained arm protruding from underneath the hungry pack.

She let out a loud unwilling gasp, and a single hound turned slowly towards her, still chewing at a strip of meat hanging from its jaws. As the dog moved away from the corpse slightly, she caught a glimpse of the ragged and torn face of Joseph, his teeth and gums exposed, patches of flesh gouged and bleeding.
His custom shotgun lay a few feet away from him, his broken fingers still seemed like they were stretching to reach it.
Her eyes flickered back to the hound, who was emitting a low murderous growl and inching slowly towards her. She took a single step back, and a twig crunched under her black laced boot.

The dog shrieked a deafening howl and bounded towards her, panting furiously. Jill screamed shrilly and fell backwards, hitting the earth with a dull thud. The hound was almost upon her when a sudden blast from behind fired it back towards its pack, bleeding and whining.

"Jill, c'mon!" Chris wrapped his left arm around her and helped her up, pulling her along, away from the pandemonium of the now advancing pack of rabid, frenzied canines. As Jill stumbled and tripped along, she could feel a splat of the dog's blood running steadily down her cheek, and she rubbed at it, her face scrunched up in disgust and panic.
Chris peered quickly over his shoulder to see the pack gaining ground, galloping madly after them, fangs bared and snarling.

He increased their speed, tugging at Jill to run faster. A whirring of rotors suddenly blasted the air, a weak spotlight illuminating the trees around them. Chris looked up in time to see the S.T.A.R.S helicopter fly past at great speed, its posture unsteady and hurried.

"Brad! Where the hell's he going!?!" Chris cried, unable to hide the panic in his voice. His eyes shimmered.

"You cowardly chickenshit!" he screamed at the sky, "You fucking spineless son-of-a-bitch!"

Tears of fear and rage stung his eyes. He could feel his legs weakening; the dogs were gaining inevitably upon them. As a last, pathetic stand, he pushed Jill off to the side and spun around to face the oncoming wave of snapping jaws and hot, panting breath.

He let out a long, guttural growl and brought his right arm up over his face, turning his head away and squeezing his eyes shut, hoping to attract the worst of the attack and leave Jill time to escape... The leader of the pack threw itself at Chris, it's gaping, dripping jaws heading straight for him...

BANG ...

A powerful shot ruptured the dog's head, sending rotting flesh and mangled brain splattering onto the leaves below. Chris whirled around to see Wesker, gun smoking, expression ever-calm and composed. Barry lurked behind, aiming his magnum revolver at multiple hounds at once.

"Chris, this way."
Wesker's drawl retained all formality and command. Chris stumbled clumsily over to where Jill lay dazed, half-curled in a ball.
He pulled and tugged her to her feet, looping his free arm around her and guiding her forwards. Wesker fired a couple more shots at the howling group of beasts before side-stepping and following suit, moving fluidly and with utmost confidence.

Barry remained at the back, taking down one of the pursuing canines with a well aimed headshot.

As Chris stumbled along with Jill, he noticed that the trees encasing them seemed to be thinning somewhat. He looked up to see a huge building looming before them, its strong brick walls spreading out as far as he could see.
It stood illuminated by the weak, freezing moonlight, which glinted off the vast rows of paneled windows. It emitted a cold sense of authority and tradition, and an unwelcoming air surrounded the whole area.

"Quick, head for that mansion." Wesker ordered authoritatively from behind.

The silent promise of sanctuary from this mysterious mansion seemed to give strength back to his legs, and he felt Jill straightening with determination beside him, and they ran, ran for their lives to that mansion in the moonlight...