Disclaimer: I do not own Resident Evil or the characters in this story. I was not in any way, shape or form paid by Capcom to write this story. Though any orginal characters or plot twists or creations etc. are mine. Thank you and enjoy the story.
Resident Evil:
Surviving the Outbreak Prologue"I'll get straight to the point," the female voice said, filling the silent room with pops and hisses of static through the tape recording. "I am going to tell it how it was and not skip any part what-so-ever, water it down or sugar coat it in any way, shape, or form. Nothing anyone can say or do can falsify what is about to be told. Whether or not you choose to believe what I have to say is your call, though I already know the truth and that's what is important. I know. I was there." The woman let out an audible sigh ring through the recording that was followed by a long pause.
"I was there in Raccoon City. I was there before, during and after the outbreak. The infection…" the speaker trailed off only a brief second before refocusing and spoke with a practiced patience. "And that is what it was. An infection. One that makes the plagues in the book of Revelation look like a sinus infection, nothing medicines and antibiotics provided by Umbrella wouldn't clear up," the woman said with more then a little sarcasm screaming across the very mention of Umbrella.
"I guess you could say I was one of the few 'lucky' ones that got out." The speaker made sure she was extra careful when annunciating the word lucky, to make sure the listeners knew what she had meant. "Though I don't consider myself lucky, not in the least. I would have preferred to have had died on those streets, where countless others had lost their lives. Why was I to be spared from their fate?" Again, the young woman sighs, her voice trembled slightly, though only for a brief moment before she regained her composure.
"Nothing I can say or do really matters, now. The nights are sleepless, flooded with the nightmares and the screams in the dark. I heard so many. I saw things I pray to God I can un-see. I am surprised I hadn't lost control during… my exodus of the damned city." Another pause had followed; as if the woman that had recorded the tape was thinking hard about what she was going to say next. "The torment of reliving the events of those terrible days and nights will haunt me till the day I die and that very thought is almost more then I can bare." The young orator cleared her throat and began to calm herself a little; though by the way her voice carried through the recording she was very deliberate and methodical in her wording.
"Though, I am somewhat at peace knowing that I was one of the 'lucky' few. Knowing that I won't be the only one that will be fighting against the atrocities that befell Raccoon City and it's residents. I won't be sitting by and watch as this story is covered up, buried, along with every decent human being that had lost their lives, their innocence during this disaster. The truth will come out sooner or later. The untainted, ugly truth will show herself in all her glory."
"Oh," she called out as if she had almost forgotten a point she would not let slip past the attention of the listeners. "I am not doing this for me, or for publicity, or for money. It's important you all know this. It's personal. It's personal for the lives you have taken away, in such a violent and twisted way. I am doing this for all the souls begging in Raccoon City for the truth to be released. And I'll be damned if I don't help ease their suffering."
"This will be the first of many recordings about the events that had transpired before the virus reached the city and tainted all who it touched and during its last dying days. And believe me when I say, this will be the first of many. Alyssa Ashcroft, Raccoon Times."
"It all really came together for me at a bar, in downtown Raccoon…"
Chapter 1:
May 27th 1998
120 Days Before the Outbreak
The phone rang again. It was the sixth time it had rung in the last four minutes. It continued to ring its high-pitched wail, waiting for the frustrated blonde woman sitting behind the desk to pick up the receiver. The woman leaned back in her office chair, looking at her desk tattered with papers, tips, numbers and reports she had strewn about. With a frown she leaned forward, while the phone screamed once again. She could feel a headache coming on. She closed her pale blue eyes tightly and pinched the bridge of her slender nose. Showing no sympathy or compassion, the phone rang again worsening the already building headache. She brushed her bangs behind her right ear and quickly reached for the phone and lifted the receiver.
"Ashcroft," she muttered. She lifted her unfocused gaze to the organized chaos that was taking place outside her cluttered office. Another report had come in about a hiker gone missing in the Arklay Mountain region. The current death toll was one woman and three others missing. They had completely vanished without a trace.
A husky voice was on the other end of the line. His raspy voice almost hurt to listen to for too long. And the worst part about it was she did not have a choice in the matter. "Alyssa, McCarthy just told me you wanna run a headline? And of course you want it to read, "Victim of Cannibal Slaying," huh?" Editor in Chief Garland hissed over the line. "I got ten different city officials up my ass now about a possible cannibal cook on the prowl in the Arklay region, and you are basing it off of what proof? The fuzz have already concluded that the killing of that woman was done by some kind of animal."
Alyssa held the phone tightly in her right hand and pressed it firmly to her right ear. "Listen Chief, I know that other reports have indicated that the woman was mauled by some type of animal. Okay, fine. Let's say that was really the case. Why have several other hikers gone missing in the last forty-eight hours then? I am not sure that the same animal responsible would be able to take on three other people, gobble them up and then go looking for another meal. Unless this thing has got a new record setting metabolism, I really doubt the same thing did it. And there wasn't much left to really discern if it was an animal or not," she retorted staring at her mug that held old coffee she had on her cheaply made oak wood desk.
Garland sighed and let out a low growl. Alyssa could imagine he had just run his hand through his already thinning hair, brushing whatever was left back to hide the growing bald spot. "If you try and link this to those murders at that abandoned hospital a year and a half ago, I will vomit, I swear to God. How can you even possibly link these 'missing' hikers and this dead woman to it?"
"Think about it for a minute okay, Chief? That hospital is not more then five or six miles from those hiking trails, and they never found our good doctor friend. Remember? Need I remind you that at that hospital, several other brutal murders, all dealing with cannibalistic activities occurred there within days of one another? Maybe he still has some friends that are still into munching on the flesh other living people like they had done at the hospital a year and a half ago. I am not saying that it is, just making a point it could be," Alyssa said trying to wet his taste to sell some papers and she knew she could. He may sound pissed over the phone, throw something at you in person, or even flip his desk, both over the phone and in person, he was a businessman looking for papers to sell.
There was a brief silence on the other end of the line and Alyssa knew she had him. She looked out the glass windows through her office that led back into the hellish realm of the Raccoon Times. She glanced at all the faces she could see, some arguing, some running sheets of paper back and forth and a few doing absolutely nothing at all. One of which was Mr. McCarthy, who was staring back into her office while he sipped from his mug. Alyssa took a moment to smile at him, raised her left arm, and give him the middle finger. "Nice tie, asshole" she lip-synced to him and smiled even more when she knew he had got what she had said.
"Alright, fine. I got some conditions I want you to meet. I want to see your draft in thirty minutes, do you hear me? If we wanna make the evening addition, we got to move fast. Also, change the title. Be suggestive without using suggestive words, got me? It's all speculation, okay? Keep it simple too, nothing too elaborate. Got all that? Good. Have it on my desk in twenty minutes," he said not giving her time to respond and quickly hung up.
Right. I have 'thirty' minutes to do this, which means I have twenty. Then he said on his desk in 'twenty' which means in fifteen. And be suggestive without using suggestive words. Okay fat ass, why don't you put that Twinkie down and jump on a treadmill for 'thirty' minutes and your draft will be done by then, dickhead. And that's what most reporting is, speculation. God, how did you become the Editor in Chief?
She reached for the mug that was resting on her desk and wondered how old the coffee inside it really was. Taking a quick glance at the dark liquid that sloshed around in the dirty mug, she carefully placed it back down and leaned her head back for a moment and made several quick mental notes about editing the story and the title. With any luck she would be able to stir up a hornets nest with some city hall officials and Chief Irons. That was a name she grew to despise more and more with each passing day.
Police Chief Brian Irons, possibly the most corrupt Police Chief Raccoon has ever come to see. She had never seen a man so far up Umbrella's ass before. If Umbrella suddenly made a quick stop, you would need to call a proctologist to get good old Chief Irons back to work, that's for damn sure. It was blatantly obvious as well. With a little push in the right direction, Alyssa thought she maybe able to find the definite links between Irons and how he has been accepting bribes from the Pharmaceutical company Umbrella Incorporated. The question was why? Why would a respectable Pharmaceutical Company be bribing a Police Chief?
Think one story at a time. There is always time to go after Irons later. If you don't get this story done and done right, Chief Garland may have an aneurysm and that would be most unfortunate indeed.
Just as Alyssa rubbed her slim pale face with the palms of her hands to help clear her thinking, the phone began to ring once more.
May 30th 1998
The chair inside the Police Chief's office was uncomfortable and Officer Kevin Ryman shifted his weight to give some relief to his backside, sparing it only momentarily from the toughness of the old inflexible leather. The young officer scratched the left side of his head, pushing aside his shaggy dark brown hair. Kevin hated Chief Irons and he was pretty sure everyone else on the Force did as well. Though what he hated the most was staying in the Police Chief's office. The room gave off a vibe that Kevin couldn't shake and while it wasn't directly threatening, it didn't seem right either.
The door to the office opened and Chief Irons stormed into the room, not giving Kevin a chance to stand at attention, and was already seated by the time Kevin could give off a proper salute. Without even acknowledging the salute, Irons pointed to the chair Kevin was in only a moment before. "Sit," was all the pudgy man said.
Kevin only grunted inwardly and took his seat. He looked down at his boots for a second before his gaze rose level with Irons. "So Chief Irons, is this about the results for S.T.A.R.S.?" he asked with a small voice barely keeping eye contact with the Chief of Police. Kevin wasn't openly disrespectful unless someone was being disrespectful to him. Even if it was his superiors.
Irons' eyes narrowed and he folded his pudgy hands on his desk and leaned forward slightly. Kevin watched as he did this and was surprised that the shirt Irons wore did not rip open. It was far too small for someone of his size. "You know damn well this is about your application," the small man spat out behind the safety of his desk. "Officer Ryman, you are a good cop. Really, you are. But S.T.A.R.S. stands for Special Tactics and Rescue Squad." Irons' dull eyes seemed to sparkle when he explained what the word had stood for in the RPD. "Quite frankly, I don't feel you are up for the task of joining this branch of the RPD because I doubt your mode of thinking. Don't get me wrong, you have displayed the physical aspects that S.T.A.R.S. is looking for, but your mental frame just doesn't fit. I am sorry," he said with a sadistic smile.
Kevin stood from his chair with such speed he almost knocked it over. "Sir, please! This is my second time applying for this position. I have aced the tests and you know that. I just want a chance to prove what I am worth out in the field," he said, resting his hands on the desk, leaning over it slightly. By the time he had realized this, he cautiously stood up straight, and stood at attention. "I just want to serve my community the best I can, sir," he said in his failing attempts to barter with the Chief of Police.
Chief Irons looked up at him from his seat and narrowed his eyes, his smile long since faded. "Officer Ryman, I have been on this job longer then you have been alive. If you doubt my ability to judge what you are capable of, I would kindly ask you…order you, to get the hell out of my office now!" he screamed while standing and slamming his two chubby hands down on his desk.
With a nod and through grit teeth, Kevin replied with a, "Yes, sir." He turned around and started for the door and paused when his hand reached the knob.
"Are you deaf?" Irons screamed. "Now doesn't mean take your Goddamn time! It means get out now!"
Before he let Irons finish, he opened the door and walked out into the hallway, slamming the door behind him. Even as he began walking away from the office, he could still hear him screaming some incoherent ramble. He walked all the way back to his locker on the far side of the building and entered the night men's shift room.
He opened the door to the small room and slammed it close. He walked around the large table that served as four desks inside the room and found his locker at the far right, just beyond the table. He stared at the metal nameplate on the door of his locker for several minutes, clenching his fists. Without a warning, he slammed his hands against the metallic surface several times, swearing as he did so.
Behind him, someone had opened the door and entered the room and witnessed the fit of rage. "Hey, hey, calm down buddy. You all right?" the friendly male voice said, moving around the desk to Kevin's side.
With a quick glance to his left, Kevin saw Chris Redfield standing at his side, with one arm half extended and his head tilted to the left. Kevin couldn't speak he was so filled with rage. He just stood there, with his forearms resting on his locker shaking his head side to side.
Chris straightened himself out and his mouth dropped a little. "Aw, don't even tell me that piece of shit rejected you again," the S.T.A.R.S. Alpha team member said in utter disbelief. "You are one of the best cops for the job. Why won't they take you?" he asked crossing his arms over his chest with his facial expression souring.
Kevin turned and faced the Alpha and ran his right hand through his hair. "Irons said that while I display the physical requirements for the program, I lack the mental capabilities to effectively join," he said looking down biting his lower lip.
The Alpha raised his brow, slightly shocked at the remark. "Wait, you're telling me that turd with a mustache said you didn't display the mental abilities to join? That's a load of bull if I ever heard it. And I am impressed that that piece of crap worded himself so well," Redfield said with a half smile, trying to lighten the situation a bit.
Shaking his head, Kevin smiled too. "He didn't. God knows that trying to educate a man of Irons' 'capabilities' would be a waste of time, cause God knows Irons is a waste."
Still smiling, Redfield nodded gave him a quick slap on the shoulder. "Listen, I will talk with Wesker about this. Maybe he could reason with Irons."
Kevin continued to shake his head. "No, man. Thanks, but don't. If I am going to get into S.T.A.R.S., I want to get there on my own. I really appreciate the offer though. Tell Barry, Frost and the others I will join up with you all next time," he said punching Chris' shoulder back.
Chris scoffed and nodded. "Alright then man. And hey, listen. Tomorrow night, me and a couple of the S.T.A.R.S. members are going out, wanna tag along?" the Alpha offered sincerely. "Everyone knows that sooner or later Irons will let you in. You are too good to not be with us. So you might as well hang out with us," he said with a smile.
"Nah, its okay. Don't want to cramp the S.T.A.R.S. team style and ruin your reputations. Not to mention beat your asses in darts," he said jokingly, though he had to force the smile.
With a sarcastic look, Chris nodded. "Yeah okay. Like you could ruin our 'reputation' any more. Yeah and try beating me in darts. I am only the best marksman this sorry excuse for a Police Station has got."
"So what, you can aim a gun well. Darts is about judging how much strength to use and how high the arch will be when you throw," Kevin replied with mocking smile tugging at the side of his face.
"Right, prove it then. J's Bar at seven o'clock tomorrow night, buddy," Redfield said as he turned and opened the door back into the hallway.
"Hey, Chris," Kevin called out before he shut the door. "I appreciate all you guys have done for me. I promise sooner or later I will be there with you guys. Count on it," he said giving a firm nod. Chris returned the nod and closed the door.
Kevin stood there a few moments, just staring at the door. Then with a deep sigh, he pulled out a chair from under the table. He looked at his section of the desk in total disarray and reached for a loose paper that was resting on top of a pile of manila folders.
"Three dead in the Arklay region. Possibility of these being animal attacks diminish…" The report went on describing the state of the bodies and which they were found. Kevin sighed and hoped that these were all just animal attacks. Though if they weren't, he figured Redfield and the S.T.A.R.S. team would be called in to investigate in the near future.
I wish I could be there with you guys when they call you in on this case. Lord knows you will crack it within forty-eight hours. I will show Irons that I am fit enough to be on S.T.A.R.S. It will just take a little time…