(A/N ~ Hello! Emma &Steph here, we just want to let you know that this isn't really the beginning of the story; it's just more like the past of the story. If that makes sense⦠like, a second prologue (: This should give a little eye-opening for you all. Chapter 3 is where the real fun begins)
February 21st 1998
11:42AM
Umbrella Corporations, Racoon City Underground Laboratory;
The Umbrella Corporation is a giant conglomerate which operates ruthlessly as a major international player in a number of markets; including pharmaceuticals and medical equipment along with top-secret operations utilizing genetic engineering and biological weaponry. The company also has a more benevolent public face for the ignorant masses, producing cosmetics, consumer products and foods.
My name is Jake. Today is my 6th birthday and my father has a surprise for me. He tells me I'm a very special boy and I will grow up to become one of his greatest possessions. I lay, naked, on a metal table in a dark room, covered only by a thin sheet of material. All I can see is the faint light from the computer screen on the other side of the room.
The cool steel was a sharp pain against my bare skin, but it wasn't anything compared to the pain of the needles, the endless needles.
It was strange, being able to listen to the pace my heart was beating at, the pounding rush in my ear. Looking over at the machine I was hooked up to, I realised I wasn't the only one who could hear it, as it beeped in unison with my pulse.
An overwhelming light suddenly appeared, it was above me and all around me. It was all I could see. Then, three doctors dressed plainly in white laboratory coats were at my side, all mumbling together, something about a virus. Then, the needles came again.
Without a moment's notice, I broke into a sweat, convulsing on the spot. My mind went numb and blank as the overwhelming burn in my veins took over. I could barely make out the shapes of the doctors, and just before my mind gave out, I heard one of them utter something in success.
I knew the voice the second it spoke, it was my father;
"His body accepted the C-Virus, this child we be of good use after all. Put him back in his room and bring out the girl,"
The girl? Does he mean Cassie?
I awoke from my bed with a startle; I noticed instantly that the sweat and pain had subsided. I could still feel a tingling sensation from where the needles had been inserted into both of my medial epicondyles. After I realised my arms were no longer strapped down, I itched them furiously.
With curiosity, I jumped down from my bed and wandered towards the open door. Quietly, I followed the hallway down and exited through some doors, out into the garden.
Looking around the greenery, I saw a small girl sitting on the grass underneath an apple tree. Her skin was ashen, almost dead in colour. Her hair was black, shiny and fell to her waist in cascading locks, almost touching the floor of where she sat, her full fringe almost covering her empty, glazed, moss-green eyes. When she heard the door close behind me, her head whipped up to face me, and only then did I realise she had been crying. Tears were stained against her face, and her cheeks were flushed, perhaps from the pressure of resting them on her knees.
It was Cassie.
She didn't smile, she didn't move, she just waited for me to approach her. Slowly, I walked in her direction, stepping over pansies which lined the pathways I refused to use. Making a direct beeline to her, I made no effort in losing eye-contact.
As I closed in on her, she opened her mouth as if to speak to me, but closed it again and looked away, sniffling slightly. I sat by her side with my legs crossed and took her gingerly by the hand, it was cold and lifeless, it was the one with the strawberry birthmark above the thumb. She looked back at me again, seemingly shocked by the contact, but nevertheless began grinning. This was the Cassie I knew.
"Happy Birthday Jake," She said in a small voice, keeping her smile intact, her tiny milk-teeth gleaming, "You're six now!"
"I know," I replied with an equally sudden grin, "I'm a whole year older than you!"
"We've got matching marks, look!" She retorted, hodling out her arm and showing me her inner elbow, it was dotted with puncture marks which almost resembled a rash.
"We do," I said with a laugh, before changing the subject and looking her in the eye, "you know, my father has plans for you too Cas."
She looked slightly shocked, "he does?"
I nodded, looking pleased with myself. I squeezed her hand a little and laughed,
"We're both really special Cassie! That's why he chose us,"
May 8th 2000
7:00AM
Umbrella Corporations, Racoon City Underground Laboratory
Cassie's seven today, a whole three months after I turned eight. These two years have gone really fast, and the place almost feels empty now that she's gone. We were the best of friends until a week ago, when my father had her sent off to England. I overheard that her condition was worsening, and she could no longer contain the virus, and to be honest I noticed it in the way she was acting. Everything about her actions were filled with hate and anger, and even though I know we are both still really young, I know for sure anyone our age shouldn't be feeling like that.
From what I'm aware, she's been sent to England for more tests, maybe they'll help her, and they might give her some medicine. Then she can come back to us and we can carry on being the best of friends.
February 24th 2002
2:09PM
20 miles West of Racoon City
I turned ten a few days ago, my father no longer has any use for me, he says my body has become immune and I am rejecting all of the different virus strands. So, he's sent me back to my mother. He told me that he never wanted to see me again, and that I was a big disappointment. I'm a possession not worth keeping. I never saw Cassie after the day they took her away from me, I don't even know if she's alive, and I doubt she's still thinking about me.
I've gotten myself a job in the local bar in my mother's village, playing the piano for the customers. After practicing for so long, I've actually gotten quite a good talent, so I'm really appreciative when I get given thanks and tips. The money's bad, barely enough for food and it's hard to get medication for my mother. We can't afford the health costs which would otherwise keep my mother healthy, but I'm trying my best to get us by. Still, it's not enough and I can barely get food on our plates.
I have to find a way to earn more money.
I love my mother, but I don't understand why she is still enamoured with my father, the man who abandoned us. To say I don't think highly of him is an understatement.
August 2nd 2007
15:04
N/A
I've been working as a mercenary for just over 5 months now and the money is easy. Killing is almost satisfying but nothing brings a smile to my face more than seeing my mother on the road to recovery.
Another couple thousand to my name and all I had to do was wipe-out a small group of wrong-doers; rapists and thieves. Scum. I have enough money to get my mother the best possible medical care. Or rather, I could have. Sadly she left my life just under a week ago. I'm not sure why I'm still doing this, killing for money. I have nothing in this world but hate, perhaps it fills my empty void of a life, keeps me occupied.
