Ch.2 (Oh gawd)

Worst Parody EVAR!

(Take note that this is much more serious than the previous chapter, but do not fret! The chapter after this will resume in good humor)

It was dark…so very dark.

No light could be seen anywhere in the endless plain of Jill Valentine's mind. There was no comfort found there, only quick flashes of disturbing imagery that she couldn't quite make out.

It was all quite confusing. Jill felt awake, yet she wasn't. In the background, she heard metal clanking together as if someone were working vigorously on something. A large, dark figure of a man with his back to her was gathering items on a small metal side table to be brought over to her.

And then, there was nothing.

What felt like an eternity later, in this somewhat lucid dream, she felt her skin being pierced with what seemed to be needle, fluid flowing through her veins. The sensation was painful, but Jill was too preoccupied with the overwhelming feeling of exhaustion to make any fuss.

For a moment, her vision came to a focus, though still somewhat blurred, was enough so that she could make out the face of the dark figure she saw earlier. She saw no comfort in that face that beamed so forebodingly down at her helpless state. She saw the man's thin lips curl in a devilish smirk. Jill felt pure hatred and fear, her heart stopped beating.

Suddenly, it slowly quickened its pace. So very gradually, Jill's heart was pumping wildly and the thumping it produced in her ears was unbearable. She wanted to scream, but no sound came.

She turned from the face to a mounted head of an albino doe above where she lay. The doe's eyes were glistening red down at her threateningly even though it was dead. For a moment, she heard the far distant cry of a lamb in the distance sounding as though it was being slaughtered. Jill gave into the sleep that her body so longed for.

Jill gasped for breath and jolted upright from the damp bed, her blue orbs wide and wild. She was covered in cold sweat and the white, satin sheets so neatly tucked underneath her were soaked.

The first thought that she processed was that she was alone. No one else was with her; neither the face nor the medical instruments were to be seen. She looked up above the bed and saw the albino doe from her dreams. It was more eerie in reality.

The room she was in was simple. The walls were painted of a bluish-gray hue and were mounted with photographs of people she did not know; family photos she assumed. She turned her legs over the edge of the bed and shakily attempted to stand. At first it was for not, Jill's knees gave in and she fell but grasped the sheets of the bed to hoist herself up.

"Ughhh… god-damnit…"

Her vision was still slightly blurred but she was more aware of the objects around her. She made her way to the window and pulled back the wispy, see-through curtains to see the night sky. The place she was seemed to be remote and away from the city or any civilization, there were no stars to be seen in the sky. She turned away and saw that the door to her room was wide open.

"…what? Where..the hell am I?" Jill held her head with her hands; a pulsing migraine was coming on.

She mustered all of her strength to make it out to the hallway. Holding onto the walls for support, she slowly paced herself down the long, narrow, paisley printed hallway. She stopped and saw a small, dark wooden desk with a phone on it.

"I need to call B.S.A.A. for backup…"

She grabbed for the phone, only for her knees to give out again.

"…shit." She gritted through her teeth. The dull pain in her legs was becoming a pain in the ass.

The phone dropped out of Jill's hand. She propped herself against the wall, her head slumped downwards facing the tacky carpet. She forced her head up after a moment. She once again found the strength to grab hold of the phone. She put it up to her ears, but heard no dial tone. Jill saw that the phone wire had been snapped.

"Oh great…" She sighed heavily. Jill put her head back on the wall for support, trying her best to remember what happened earlier that day. Her mind drew a blank.

Jill looked down at herself, surprised to see what she was wearing. It wasn't her B.S.A.A. uniform. She was wearing a rather revealing black dress which parted down her front showing a slight hint of cleavage and too much skin for her taste. She was wearing black heels which were thin and pointy; which was another thing Jill wasn't very accustomed to. As far as she knew, this wasn't part of her wardrobe. Someone had played dress up with her and the very thought made Jill furrow her brows in aggravation.

"Fucking perverts…" She mumbled to herself.

Jill soon had the realization that along with her uniform, her gun, cuffs and all her essentials were not with her.

"SHIT!" She took note of her colorful vocabulary and how it was becoming part of her normal speech.

(Or maybe it's just filler because the author can't write worth a damn and inserts cursing to make up for any essential dialogue. On that note, there wasn't really any dialogue in this part of the movie that this chapter is a parody of anyways. Take that you literary analysis whores. )

Jill hoisted her head up and looked in front of her to see a staircase. She felt a small tinge of hope.

"If I can make it down the stairs without making much noise, I can escape through the front door…."

Jill stood up quickly and made her way silently down the stairs; her S.T.A.R.S training was becoming her godsend. Halfway down the steps, she stopped suddenly. Noises of someone working hastily were coming from the other side of the wall. The noise was too close for comfort. She assumed it was her captor, or the perv who gave her this dress. Whoever it was, that person was humming the familiar tune of "Moonlight Sonata" softly to themselves while clanking away with their work.

"Come on Jill, if you're quiet enough, you can make it through the front door without them noticing…They're probably too busy to notice."

With her goal only a few feet away from the stairs, Jill took in a deep breath and continued quietly down the last few steps. She sighed gently in relief.

"Okay, all I have to do is make a quick dash for it…"

The white painted door was only a foot or so away now.

Jill's heart began to thump in her chest. She looked to her right to see the light emitting from the other room where her captor was working. She couldn't see them, but thought it best not to get too curious. The humming was more distinguishable, it was low and soothing. Jill was safe to assume that it was a man.

Jill gathered up her courage and hastened to the front door. With all her might, she tugged at the handle rather noisily and attempted to break through to the other side; but it was to no avail.

"SHIT! Why won't this goddamned door open?" She hissed under her breath.

Jill looked down, and to her horror, she found that the lock had been broken.

She was trapped.

Whoever took her captive took careful precautions ahead of time to make sure she wouldn't escape. He was a smart bastard, she'd give him that. Breaking through the windows was her next option, that is, until she heard someone speak to her from the room to her right.

"It's so nice that you could join us for dinner…Jillian." The voice was dripping with venom; it stuck Jill right through her heart. She felt it shoot throughout the rest of her body, leaving her breathless and weakened. It was so eerily familiar; the color drained from her already paled face.

"That voice…WESKER!"

She turned to face the speaker but also made sure to back herself to a corner near the door.

Wesker stood at full height at the entrance she now faced; which apparently lead to a dining room. He was wearing a sort of suit as though he were hosting an exquisite party of some sort. His arms were crossed across his broad chest, giving him a sort of pompous but domineering air about him. His pale, blonde hair was slicked back as it usually was, but his shades were not to be seen, for our heroine this was not the sort of change she was hoping for. His bright, yellow-reddish eyes were gazing Jill down making her feel like a small child. He gave a self-satisfied smirk.

"Come now, Jillian."She hated the way her full name rolled off his tongue. "We wouldn't want to keep our guests waiting. That would be awfully indec orous of us. "

He strode over to Jill who was previously cradling herself but was now attempting to crawl away towards the living room in hopes of escape. Wesker was quicker though, he grabbed for Jill's short brown locks and jerked her up to face him as she yelped in pain. She tried kicking his shins, crotch and any other appendage of his that her legs could reach.

"Now, now dear heart, don't make such a fuss. " His grip became unbearably stronger, the leather gloves resounded as his fist became tighter. Jill soon submitted but shot a nasty glare at the man who now looked smug with himself. His face got closer to hers ever so slightly. The heat emitting from him was blazing, enough to scorch her skin. That icy breath of his made all of the hairs on Jill's neck stand on end. These traits made her hate him more than ever at the moment.

"There's a good girl…yes. I commend you for your spirit, my dear Valentine but for your current circumstances you would find it all the wiser to not evoke my wrath; my patience is dwindling as it is. You see, it could end… rather messily."

Jill said nothing but the overwhelming fear evident in her eyes was enough of an answer for Wesker. He let go of her hair and instead gripped her by the wrist, dragging her into the dining room. Jill didn't give much thought to the atmosphere of the room as she was being dragged to a long oaken table.

Wesker pulled out a chair for her and bowed mockingly to her to take a seat. She narrowed her eyes at him and wrinkled her nose distastefully at his gesture. Jill took her seat and sat down without further protest.

The interior of the room was quaint and neat, not a speck of dust was to be found on the dark wooden furniture. The walls were green and stripped wallpaper with prints of flowers along the dark borders; which so happened to match the furniture. Ivory candles were lit in a row in front of her, creating an eerie glow to the dim room. None of the décor was out of the ordinary.

The walls were covered with more smiling faces of family portraits which didn't interest Jill in the least. She didn't know where she was, but she got the idea once she took notice to the larger of the photographs. It was her ex-S.T.A.R.S. members all grouped together with smiling faces and matching uniform. She pointed herself out instantly in the front crouching next to Chris Redfield and Joseph Frost with her ex-captain standing directly behind her. Her hair was much shorter then, now it was longer and climbed down her back in a ponytail. She looked so happy, without much care in the world, everyone did; with the exception of Wesker of course who looked as stoic as he ever did.

It broke her heart every time she looked at it. Good men had died in the line of duty, good men who shouldn't have died the way they did. Forest, Brad…, the list could go on andNONEof them deserved the fate which they met at the hands of Wesker. Hot tears flooded the backs of her eyes as good memories of her team filled her mind. She gritted her teeth angrily as she felt as though it was all her fault. She should have known that Wesker was up to something. His manner was different from day one and she should have caught on. None of this hell would have happened and the world would be better off. However, Umbrella was mostly to blame as well. Its research on B.O.W.s cost the lives of countless innocents, turning them into freakish creatures; soulless shadows of their former selves. The world was oblivious to what the world's leading pharmaceutical company was doing and this was the price it paid for its ignorance. (Uh oh, Jill's beginning to question the humanity of others. CH.1 REFERENCE ZOMG!1!1!1)

Jill was snapped back into reality from her dark thoughts as the door to the kitchen swung open. In its frame was Wesker standing with a haughty look plastered onto his face. He was gripping onto something, a wheelchair?

Jill's heart froze when she recognized the figure slumped into the chair. His brown, spiky hair was all too familiar. It was Chris. She thought he was safe, miles away from here. Her optimism was at an all time low.

He lifted his head slowly to look at her; his eyes were dazed, groggy and slightly red as though he had been crying. Jill figured that Wesker had used Chlorophyll to take him by surprise and had possibly drugged him further to keep him in order. He was drooling slightly from the corner of his lips, another side effect of the Chlorophyll or some other drug that numbed his face. He attempted at a smile.

"H-h-hey…Jill. How's it g-going?" Chris was stuttering his words but nonetheless he tried to keep pleasant conversation, "T-the F-foo-dd smells g-g-ood, huh…?"

"Chris…" Jill whispered as she let tears fall down her face. She couldn't stand to see him in this position. He was soon going to be like the other ex-S.T.A.R.S. members, she was sure of it.

"I'm pleased to see how you're cooperating, Chris. Your friend Jill here was about to having an adult tantrum; I was close to giving her a 'spanking'." Wesker flashed his small, white teeth when he chuckled darkly at his dirty comment. Jill could only purse her lips and give him a sour look.

Chris gave a signature awkward laugh that reminded Jill of how Barry and Chris used to constantly make perverse jokes they were on break at the station. That laugh was what made him funny guy of the group, it was sincere and full of good-humor.

"You're a funny, guy."

"…Chris. What did the hell did he do to you…?" Jill held back a choking cry, she didn't want to seem weak in front of Wesker, but seeing Chris reduced to this state was hitting her hard.

Wesker rolled Chris over to the end of the table towards a place setting of fine china. He puts a napkin neatly over Chris's lap. Jill took notice that Chris's arms and legs were bound to the chair with ducktape.

"Best you do the same, Ms. Valentine. We wouldn't want to ruin that dress now, would we?" He gave her a small wink.

"Go to…hell." Jill was having a hard time insulting Wesker, she was much dizzy from whatever he injected her with.

"Now, now, Jillian, Mind your manners…you know how I hate rude people. Go on and place that napkin in your lap…" He scolded her lightly, and then he paused and waited for Jill to put the napkin in her lap. While she did so, she took the knife that was tucked in the folds of her napkin and hid it in her lap. Hopefully, he didn't take notice to that.

Wesker turned his back to her, focusing his attention on a burner a couple feet behind Chris's seat. Something was sizzling and it caught Chris's attention.

"Hey…that smells good, buddy. Can I have some?" Chris was attempting to turn around to see exactly what Wesker was cooking.

"In due time... Have some broth, Chris." Wesker poured a light brown liquid into a small bowel and placed it in front of Chris. He placed a long straw into the bowl and put it to Chris's mouth.

Chris took a few sips and jerked his head from the straw. "It's not very good, buddy."

"I'll admit that I added a little something to yours, it might be clashing with the cumin. I assure you that the main course will be suffice enough, that is, if Jill doesn't bash my head in before I serve it." He gave a little smirk, and returned to cooking.

"M-may I have some w-wine?" Jill needed something to take the edge off of her pounding migraine and the nauseous feeling rising in her stomach.

"That wouldn't be such a good idea, Jillian. Not with the morphine still in your system. Best you have some broth." Wesker poured a different sort of liquid into her bowl, it was much darker than what he served to Chris.

Jill wasn't interested in what he served her; she turned her face away from the broth and glanced over at Chris. A small trickle of blood was falling from his head; she looked even more closely to see a neat laceration around the upper part of his head. She nearly gagged.

Wesker strode over to Chris, and with scalpel in hand, he dug into the laceration, loosening the top of his head. Jill could only watch helpless, in a state of sheer horror as Wesker lifted the top of Chris's head off. She gapped as she saw the exposed pink dome of Chris's brain.

"The brain itself doesn't feel any pain, if that is concerning you Jillian." Wesker coolly stated. With the scalpel still in hand, he pointed to the front part of Chris's brain.

"This is the prefrontal lobe, which is the seat of good manners. He won't be missing it."He scooped out a small part of Chris's brain and threw it in the fryer.

"Hey…that smells good, buddy." Chris eyes lit up when Wesker took a bit of the exposed brain from the pan and fed it to Chris.

The queasy feeling in Jill's stomach was rising; she was close to throwing up. Her tears were soaking her face; her eyes were stinging from the aroma of what as cooking on the frying pan.

Chris face was become ever more distorted, his eyes were rolling to the top of his head and his speech became slurred. Basic motor control was failing him.

Wesker chuckled darkly at this. A sadistic smiled twisted his features. Jill looked up into his eyes; they were burning right through her. Jill figured he got a sick thrill out of seeing her in a desperate state.

"I'm curious to know what'd you intend to do after all this. Do you think the B.S.A.A. will take you back after being absent for so long? Will the Bureau greet you with open arms as a mother does when she finds her missing child? Hmmm, Jillian?"

She knew he was mocking her now, but he had a point. The B.S.A.A. would have a hard time accepting her back after her absence; she made the choice in her line of duty to try to rid the world of Wesker while taking herself with him.

"A noble action on your part when you pushed me out the window, I remember how tightly you held on to me as we fell towards the abysmal rocks below... In all honesty, I was going to leave you to rot, you foiled my plans so I wanted to return the favor…however… I saved you…Jillian Valentine." His voice was very grave; his playful smirk was gone and was replaced with a frown. Wesker furrowed his eyebrows at her, while his glowing red eyes gave her a cold stare.

"Who's Jillian…?" Chris questioned, his head swaying downwards, drool was dripping from his lips.

"Chris, if you can't keep up with the conversation, it'd be best to not speak at all."

Jill sat speechless as she was torn up from the inside out. She was left in a catatonic state to which she felt there was no coming out of. Everything wrong that could have possibly happened, tonight, happened.

Wesker took hold of Chris's wheelchair and rolled him back in to the kitchen with the plates and other dinnerware stacked on his lap.

"Me and Chris are going to tidy up." Wesker chuckled again, this time it sent shivers down her spin.

When the door shut behind them, Jill rose from her chair, knife still in hand and snuck over to the kitchen door. She put her ear against the frame and listened in. Plates were clanking together and water was running from a faucet.

She cracked the door open slowly and saw that Wesker's back was to her as he was cleaning the plates and washing off the counters. Chris was next to him, sitting in the wheelchair, rambling nonsense to himself. Wesker took the leftovers from dinner and scrapped it into Chris's head. He then threw the wash cloth he was using to wash the counters with on top of that.

Jill crashed through the door, hoping to take Wesker by surprise. She tried striking Wesker's neck with the knife, but he was too quick. The two were in a battle for dominance, though, after a second or so, Wesker overpowered Jill and threw her up roughly against the refrigerator. He leaned in close to her hear and hissed.

"Good girl, Jill…If you hadn't tried to kill me, I would have…but don't try it again. I mean it." He let her go and turned his back to her, making his way towards the counters. Jill quickly went at him again, but only to be thrown back in the refrigerator. He opened the door to the refrigerator and closed it on her pony-tail, and broke the handle off the door.

"Feisty aren't we? Oh, Jillian, how you've tickled my fancy tonight…I should thank you. I've come from across the world to watch you run…let me run with you." Wesker comes threateningly close to Jill's face, his teeth barred, but he stops himself. Instead, he roughly kisses her on the lips. Jill wasn't sure of anything anymore.

END

(WORST ENDING TO THE WORST PARODY, EVER!)

I don't even know what the point to that was.

But, here's an alternate ending more closely related to the actual Hannibal book; this parody was more based off the movie.

Wesker's Plan for Good Long Happy Success:

Capture Jill and Chris

Host fancy Dinner Party; OM NOMM Chris's brain

Jill flashes boob-become lovers

?

PROFIT!

So that's basically the entire plot, summed up in five simple steps.

Okay, so I'm pretty sure everyone saw that coming… (That is if you have read Hannibal or have seen the movie, either way). It's just that Jill Valentine has a striking resemblance to Clarice Starling .Watch the beginning of the movie and you'll see what I mean; She has the hat, the ponytail and somewhat of the same attitude and it bugs the hell out of me. Hannibal may not look like Arnold Wesker, but damn it he has the slicked hair and that sort of menacing aura about him. (He also uses big words…like Chaff, lol) Also, for those Hannibal fans, you'd noticed that I made Chris Redfield play the Krendler role (except that I changed him from being a total asshole as that wouldn't work well with the BAWWW moments.) I changed the scenes, scenery and dialogue as well, obviously; once again, so that it would fit into this story more logically. You can understand.

This is more of a serious parody, but I was more than amused when writing it. I totally pissed myself backwards. XD

I'm sure most of you caught on to the slight 'Chris-bashing' theme. :D

Don't worry, more bashing to come for:

*Claire Redfield (Slut)

*Ricardo Irving (Slut)

*Excella Gionne (Perfectly refined woman…)

It makes me proud to be a competent enough writer to do that much.

My whole purpose for writing this collection of fail isn't completely based on making a mockery of Chris or anyone else for that matter. It was made for the lolz, I assure you; also, I was hoping to earn some flames to inspire me to write even more offensive material. On that note, where the hell are my flames? Just kidding, I do appreciate the reviews left on the first chapter. Thanks a bunch!

Also, quick reminder: This is a Collection, so if you're looking for a consistent plotline, look elsewhere. It's just random thoughts and parodies I come up with.

R&R if you haven't! (Yes, I'm forcing you.)

Next Chapter: Pickle Surprise (You should look that up on YouTube :D )

OH THE DRAMA!