Thank you all so much for the kind reviews! It means the world to me that you all liked my story. Here's the next chapter!

Disclaimer: I do not own Resident Evil or any of its characters it all belongs to Capcom. I only own Emma. This is my first fanfic so I'll take any constructive criticism if you have any. I hope you guys enjoy!

Warning! Please Read! Later in the chapter has some slight (very slight) graphic content. If it is a trigger warning please skip ahead! You have been warned.

I really, really, really hate the universe.

Needless to say, after my colossal freak out all the caretakers rushed to my side trying to calm me down and figure out what the hell was wrong with me. Unfortunately for them it's not like I could tell the truth. I could just imagine how that conversation could go:

"Emma dear, why are were you screaming like a banshee?"

"Well, you see, I'm actually a reincarnated fifteen-year-old in the body of a one-year-old who just figured out that I was born in a horror video game where zombies and psychopathic, genetically enhanced bio-terrorists exists."

"Oh, I see. Good luck with that."

Haha, yeah.

No.

After that episode the caretakers chalked up my reaction due to the fact that I saw the T-virus victims bodies on tv. They then thoroughly kept me from seeing anything that had to do with the infected and bio-terrorist attacks for the time being, which I was rather thankful for since I didn't want to have another freak out. Still, learning that I was reborn in Resident Evil of all things was rather hard pill to swallow.

In my previous life I was a bit of a gamer. I would play games ranging from Mario all the way to The Last Of Us. Resident Evil happened to be one of my top favorites to the point where I religiously played the games over and over again. But playing a game wouldn't prepare me from actually experiencing it.

Resident Evil is not a kind world, it is dark, cruel, and ruthless filled with horrors beyond our imaginations where the dead come back to life. There was a highly, and I mean highly, probable chance that I was going to die again. Why? You may ask. The answer is simple, bio-terrorists.

Now you may be thinking, of course there are bio-terrorists, but it doesn't necessarily mean you are going to die. Then allow me to elaborate folks, in Resident Evil the main antagonist are usually the bio-terrorists and the infected. The thing is though, with bio-terrorists, just like any other terrorists, they can literally attack anywhere, and they attack indiscriminately. This means that they could infect Hell's Kitchen population with whatever fucked-up virus that they cooked just to make a point. Also, America just so happens to be one of their biggest targets.

So yeah, survival chances aren't necessarily high to begin with.

If I was going to survive this world I would have to be careful, that would mean not drawing attention to myself, because in a world like this that's a big no-no. It's bad enough that I was already dubbed a "prodigy" due to my "high intelligence" which, in reality, was just because of my previous knowledge. Another main point is that, if shit hit the fan, I wouldn't be able to stay in one place to long.

I would have to rely on myself and solely myself. I couldn't afford to be vulnerable and depend on another in case of an unexpected attack. I'd rather not be an Ashley Graham, thank you. One thing is certain though, I will do everything in my power to not be a victim of fate.

Life in the orphanage has, thankfully, been somewhat peaceful these past few years.

It currently has been four years since my revelation, I am now physically five-years-old, mentally twenty. During that time I have dedicated all my power to making myself seem as invisible as possible. That meant pacing myself in my mental development while being quiet and obedient in effort to keeping a low profile.

The caretakers were rather puzzled by my change in behavior since I used to be more outgoing and active, but quickly left it alone since they had other things (meaning children) to worry about. They didn't really care what any of us kids did as long as we didn't get in the way or in trouble. It wasn't bad though, in fact, St. Johns Orphanage is one of the better ones I've lived in. None of the staff was abusive or mean, just a bit neglectful. They had a large number of kids to take care of and couldn't spend all their time pampering them, so I couldn't really blame them. Either way this worked out for me just fine.

The kids on the other hand, were a different story. It is in my firm belief that children are capable of incredible kindness and incredible cruelty. Being the one of the youngest in the orphanage certainly doesn't help the situation either.

You see when you're in a house with over thirty kids you'll do anything to get attention. Anything to get people to acknowledge you, to acknowledge that you exist. To do this people sometimes do desperate things that grant them the attention, whether good or bad. This leads to acting out, being angry, and bullying.

As I've said before being young and small does not help the situation. To those desperate kids you're fresh meat, an easy target, a new victim. They want to make you feel how they feel, helpless, insecure, unwanted. I know these types, I've dealt with them before, so I know how they tick. So I know how to avoid them, for the most part.

I can't exactly avoid them forever, I live in the same building as them. So sometimes I'll get unlucky, at times I'm stuck in the same room as them without any adults around. When that happens they mainly pick on me. They pull my hair, call me names, and tell me how I'm never going to get adopted.

For the most part if I ignore them long enough they'll leave me alone, disappointed and bored with my lack of reaction. The more persistent ones though will keep trying to push my buttons.

Sometimes they succeed and we end up brawling. I usually lose - I'm in the body a toddler for crying out loud - but that doesn't mean I don't play fair. I bite, I scratch, and knee them where the sun don't shine. It didn't matter how much they shoved me down, I would get right back up and push back. I wouldn't let them dictate my life, not this time around. This time I would grit my teeth and pull through, I been through worse I know could get through this.

Today I am about to face a horror that I have been dreading since I was reborn. Something so unspeakable and nerve-wracking, it causes me to shudder just thinking about it.

Today was my first day of school.

Since I am now old enough to go to kindergarten the caretakers wasted no time enrolling me into the local elementary. Washington Cove's Elementary is a large dilapidated building that looks old enough to be from seventeenth century. It's color has long since faded to an old dirty brown with darker portions peeling off revealing lighter and weak wood underneath.

Needless to say my first impression of the establishment was woefully lacking. The inside didn't seem to be any better than the outside with it's old and rusted lockers painted an obnoxious red. The floors are so dirty that not even a truck load of OxiClean could help it, the ceilings too, are cracked and have yellow water stains that leak from them.

Worst of all is the students and the teachers, they seem to be as lifeless as the building itself. The instructor's voice seemed to drone on and before you know it you're asleep. The kids look as though they're having their souls sucked out of them just being here. I have to say, spending the next nine years here does not bode well for me.

When recess finally came around I, and all the other tortured children, booked it like a bat out of hell and went outside. Quickly finding someplace secluded and not disgusting I set my things down took out a book and began to read in peace and quiet.

At least I had hoped.

"Hiya, I'm Maggie! Whatcha reading?" A bright, cheerful voice exclaimed loudly. Annoyed, I looked up, and was about to tell the person to kindly fuck off, when I paused.

The first thing that came to my mind was red, and the second thing was poofy. Right in front of me was a little girl about my age with wild, curly, dark red hair splayed around her and round, innocent green eyes blinking curiously at me. She - Maggie - had a face full of freckles with remarkably pale features, and was dressed in a soft yellow shirt with beige shorts and beat-up sneakers.

It took me a second to process what she said, I was overwhelmed by the sheer giddiness that this child excluded. When it finally sunk in I put on my best scowl, turned to her and flatly said, "A book."

Undeterred by my rudeness she came to sit down beside me, "What kinda book?" Knowing that she probably wouldn't leave anytime soon, I begrudgingly answered, "It's Inkheart by Cornelia Funke. Of course, you wouldn't have heard of it since it's a big kid book and you're just a brat."

"I'm not a brat!" She snapped, "Besides we're the same age. If I'm supposedly a brat then you are too!"

I snorted. This kid had spunk I'll admit that, but it didn't mean that I wanted, nor needed the company, let alone a friend. Unfortunately she didn't seem to get the memo since Maggie continually pestered all throughout break.

She kept on asking me questions like, what my name was? How old was I? Where did I live? Why was I sitting out here all by myself? And if I liked books? It got to the point where I just answered her questions just to get her to shut up. To my despair, she was in the same class as me and decided to plop in the seat right next to mine, still asking questions. This went on through the school day, and I was seriously considering if jail time for murder was worth it.

Probably not.

When school, at long last, ended I gathered my belongings and jogged away from the class and, most importantly, the devil's spawn called Maggie. Seriously that girl didn't know how to take a hint, no matter what I did she just. Wouldn't. Stop. Talking.

I was just towards the doors to the outside world when a annoyingly familiar voice called out, "Emma, wait up!" Maybe she's talking to another Emma. There has to more than one Emma in the school, right?", I thought.

I was wrong.

Despite my gallant attempt to speed walk to freedom, (we weren't aloud to run in the halls) my effort was for nought. Maggie the Motormouth caught up to me in no time, (seriously, how was she so fast). "I was wondering if you wanted to come and hangout at my house. They've got a new two-player game and I wanted to play it with you!" She panted breathlessly, it was said so fast that it took me a moment to understand what she meant.

I admit, a part of me felt guilty for what I was about to say next, but this kid had to understand. I was, in no way, looking for friend. Sighing, I put a hand to my forehead, "Look Maggie- it is Maggie right?" At her nod I continued, "You seem like a great kid. Really, you do. But I am not looking for a friend, I don't need one. Besides you would be better off with someone else, trust me I know you would. So just leave me alone, okay?"

With that I walked away not waiting for her response nor looking back to see her expression. I know what I did was cold, but I just didn't have the need or luxury of looking for a friend. What did was for the best, I know it was.

I hummed gently under my breath, walking along the old beaten path to school. Idly playing with a fallen leaf in my hands. The September air was getting crisper and chilly as October neared, my sixth birthday was coming up soon too.

I sighed, six years. It would be six years since my rebirth in this world. It was still such a strange concept to think about even after all this time. To know that I started over and was doing things like school for a second time around was still mind blowing.

Speaking of school, a month has gone by since my conversation with Maggie, and she has made no further attempts at friendship since then. I know what I did was a dick-ish move, but it had to be done. Still, what was strange was that she didn't seem to try to make friends with any of our other classmates. Weren't normal children good at making friends?

I felt guilty. I didn't somehow traumatize her with what I said, right? I shook my head, no it didn't matter what I said. She didn't matter, besides she was young she could get over it. With that thought I firmly nodded and continued my way to school.

When I arrived to class I saw that there were only a few students that were here. One of which was Maggie, it was hard not to notice her, with what her very being exuding color in this otherwise drab environment. She looked up after her me enter the classroom, my stormy blues clashing with her forest greens, when she quickly looked back down to the book she was reading.

Shuffling forward, I quickly squashed down the guilt that was simmering in my stomach, and made my way to my seat. Soon enough the teacher came in and in no time class started. The day went by quickly and, before I knew it, it was already time to head home.

Gathering my things and getting ready to head out of the classroom, I stopped when I noticed something. Maggie had yet to leave her seat, she still had her head down reading her book. I contemplated whether or not I should say something to her and apologize. In the end I decided not to, it was better this way. So with that I headed out of school towards the familiar beaten path.

(Looking back, I wonder what would have happened if I had stayed to talk to Maggie. Would I still be friends with her? Or would I have still met that man?)

Let it be known that Hell's Kitchen, while not the worst place in the world, isn't safe either. That's why you have to watch out for people in dark corners, alleyways, and parking lots. People like that like to go towards unsuspecting victims, especially if they're young and helpless.

It all happened in a flash, one moment I was walking down the sidewalk, and the next my mouth was muffled and I was being carried towards a darkened alleyway. My instincts flared up, I started kicking and screaming as loudly as I could. Unfortunately, my mouth was being muffled by a large hand and my current body was rather weak. I could feel hot air blowing into my neck just as I could smell the rancid odor from my kidnappers mouth.

Somehow, someway, I was able to get my mouth free and bit down on my kidnappers hand, hard. With a shout he let me go, I used that opportunity to escape while calling out for help. But the man recovered quickly and snatched me up again.

"Damn brat! Quit moving, I want to be able to enjoy this in peace!"he hissed into my ear. He then crouched low, pulled out a knife and held it to my face, "If your nice and quiet I promise not to carve up that pretty little face of yours. It'd be a shame if I had to. "

I was terrified, I knew what he what he wanted, what he was going to do. In one last desperate attempt, I yelled for help, "Please help me! Anybody please help!"

My cries were silenced by a slap to my face, "Brat, what the hell did I just tell you! I told you to shut your-"

Crack!

Like stone, he crumpled to the ground next to me, unconscious. I wasted no time in getting out from under him, when I was free I looked up to see what has happened and I froze. Standing right in front of me with a beer bottle bigger than her arms, was Maggie.

Maggie had saved me.

For an eternity, which was probably just moments, nobody moved. The silent tension was broken when Maggie voice called out, "Are- are you okay?" Too stunned I didn't answer, my mind was still reeling of what just happened.

I didn't understand, this girl, this little girl who I was a dick to, just saved me. She risked her own life for a girl she barely knew. Nobody, in either of my lives has ever done something like that for me, nobody. Yet she did, against all odds she decided to help.

I just didn't get it.

I was broken out of my stupor when Maggie's voice called out to me once again. "What?" I asked, since I missed the question. She set down the bottle and looked at me in concern, "I asked if you're okay. Are you?" Blinking stupidly, I answered, "Yeah."

"We should get out of here. My home isn't far from here do you wanna come with me?" She asked. I nodded my head, "Okay." Together we ran out of the alleyway and left. On the walk to her house we fell into silence, with Maggie shooting me glances. I knew I was still in shock and should probably say something to assure her I was okay, but for the life of me I couldn't. Why had she saved me? Didn't she know how utterly stupid and dangerous that was? Why would she risk herself for somebody like me? Why?!

I wasn't aware that I had stopped walking until she called out my name again, "Emma?"

"Why?" I whispered. She jolted from the unexpected question, "Why, what?"

"Why did you save me?", I desperately asked. "Why would you help me even after I said those mean things to you? Why would you risk your life for me? I just- I don't understand."

She stared at me before she answered, "Why wouldn't I?" I stiffened at her proclamation and was about to open my mouth to question her again when she beat me to it. "Even if you said those things to me, I knew you didn't really mean them. Besides mama always says that you should help others no matter what." She looked down at her shoes, facing flushing, "I really do just wanna be your friend Emma."

I looked at her then, really looked at her. This child- no Maggie, who was a little annoying at first, has shown me nothing but kindness and an eagerness to be my friend. As to why, I still didn't know, but it warmed me nevertheless.

Two halves of my mind right now were currently arguing. The survivor part of me, the that was jaded and bitter over the course of both my lives, argued that I couldn't trust anyone and that Maggie would just desert me eventually. While the other part, a hopeful voice that I thought had died out long ago, argued that she wouldn't and pointed out that it was tiring being alone all the time.

And with that I had made up my mind.

Marching straight up to her, I stuck my hand out to Maggie, "Okay." She just blinked at me confused, "Okay, what?"

"Okay as in, I wanna be your friend."

She stared at me blankly for a second, until a wide grin split her face and she jumped me with a squeal. We fell to the ground with Maggie laughing in delight. Before I knew it I had started joining her too, and in my heart, I knew I made the right choice. I felt lighter and more free than I ever had before, together we laughed into the darkening sky.

Hey guys, I hoped you liked this chapter! I'll try to come out with the next one as quick as I can and please remember to review. By the way, what are your thoughts on Maggie? She kinda just wrote her way into the story and I would like to know what you think.

Fun fact: Maggie is born two weeks ahead of Emma, so she was six towards the end of the chapter.