Disclaimer: I don't own Resident Evil or any of its corresponding characters. Please don't sue me; I'm just a poor writer as it is.
Who Needs Sleep?
Jill concentrated on the guns in front of her, methodically checking each one over and then loading it. Next to her Chris was loading clips with the 9mm ammo the guns needed. Jill's attention wandered as she finished loading the guns and she looked around the room. Across the room Rebecca and Carlos were bent over a computer screen, probably looking at blueprints or maps of the Umbrella facility they were about to take down. Jill felt a wave of resoluteness wash over her; Umbrella was going down if their team had to tear it down brick by brick.
A soft moan from behind her made the hairs on the back of Jill's neck rise. Turning she saw Chris, but the blank look in his eyes and the pasty color of his skin told Jill that the Chris she knew was dead, leaving only an abomination in its place. She still had some time before the zombie-Chris reached her and Jill reached down to where she knew the loaded guns were lying. Even as she reached for the gun Jill felt a wave of pity wash over her; Chris and his sister Claire had only just been reunited a few short weeks ago after several horrific encounters with Umbrella that had separated them.
But Jill's pity was quickly replaced by fear as she tore her gaze off zombie-Chris and to where her hands were groping for a gun. A gasp escaped her as she searched for the guns; which seemed to have just disappeared. She groped uselessly for a few more seconds before turning back towards the zombie, who was now less than a foot away. Jill let out a strangled yell as the zombie tackled her and they fell to the floor. Weaponless, Jill struggled to keep the zombie's mouth away from her. With her left hand planted firmly on the zombie's forehead and her right forearm pushing against its chest she was managing to keep the zombie from biting her.
The zombie moaned louder and Jill saw Rebecca and Carlos turn to see what was going on. Jill didn't bother to yell for their help, instead concentrating on keeping the zombie away from her as well as she could, but neither Rebecca nor Carlos came to her aid; instead they seemed to watch her battle with what seemed to be great disinterest. Jill could feel the fire of her aching, trembling muscles begin to creep down her arms and shoulders. In an effort to relieve her muscles and to force the creature off her, Jill dropped her head back and then slammed her head straight up. As her forehead met the zombie's nose, Jill knew she'd made a mistake. The creature seemed to be consumed by rage and its strength grew.
Knowing she didn't have long and she had no other options Jill head-butted the zombie twice more; each time managing to hold the creature back only barely as its rage grew. By this time the zombie's face was inches from her own, its fetid breath washing over her in roiling waves. Jill looked fearfully into what she knew would be her death and no longer saw Chris, but only a raging monster that Umbrella had mercilessly created. Drool fell in slow motion out of the zombie's mouth and down onto Jill's cheek, leaving a putrid trail and making Jill feel dirtier than she'd ever felt before. The zombie slowed it's attack and whispered, "Jill…"
Her instincts screamed for her to get the monster off and Jill began to thrash wildly, but somehow the zombie had completely entangled its self around her. Suddenly the floor was sliding past her as she struggled to free herself. Jill let out a small scream as she collided with the floor, half wrapped in her sheets. Instantly Jill reached under her pillow and pulled out her Baretta, snapped off the safety and started her patrol of the small house that was the new headquarters for the renegade S.T.A.R.S. team.
After satisfying herself with the knowledge that the dream was only that and everyone else was sleeping and safe Jill headed to the kitchen. She set her gun on the counter, and began the process of starting the coffee machine. Twenty minutes later she was sitting on the counter with a cup of black coffee in her hands, the digital clock on the microwave in the corner was blaring in angry red numbers 2:17. Jill sighed and took a sip of her coffee, thinking to herself: Who needs sleep anyway?
Fini
Author's Note: This is a one shot thing that's based on a dream I actually had. I hope you liked it. :)