The wind that blew through the Spencer mansion was chilling, not quite freezing but it chilled Chris to the bone nevertheless. The wind that sailed through the dark woods and spindly black branches hanging over the balcony outside brushed Chris' sweating skin. He had never felt so sick to his stomach with terror before, he thought his training would have prepared him for everything and he knew it was there in his rigid muscles and in his mind but he couldn't feel the training, it didn't give him any sense of preparedness or comfort him at all. It was dark then, as dark as he can ever remember it being. Shadows slunk across the walls taking unnatural forms, his breathing caught in his throat as he was hyperaware of every shift and movement around him, the countless creaks and sighs of the vast mansion was a sea of panic-inducing terror.

He stumbled in fright as thunder bellowed near and lightning briefly parted the darkness like the flash of a camera. His throat was dry, he struggled to see anything besides the after-images once the cracked light had faded. Chris' heavy combat boots scraped the faded, frayed red carpeted floor and clunked on the floor underneath as he took few, aimless, nervous steps.

He heard a bloodcurdling groan, tortured, soulless, and filled with primal longing. He raised his 9mm, passively noticing what strangely poor and rusted condition it was in. The shrouded figure shuffled towards him, it took erratic, broken steps and towered over him. He swallowed dryly and took aim at its mangled head, his movements unnaturally slow as if he were embedded in a viscous substance, as if the environment around him wasn't made out of oxygen but something denser yet undetectable.

The zombie's animal groan and gurgle was heard over the sharp click of an empty chamber as he pulled the trigger. Chris found it virtually impossible to take in breath as his eyes widened and he frantically stepped back, glancing at the gun and feeling his belt and chest, desperate for ammunition. He took numerous steps back, holstering his handgun and taking his combat knife out of its sheath fluidly. The knife gleamed a dull silver glint and another chill ran through him as his heart pumped hard and the cold disquieting air of the mansion stood still.

When the creature reached him he was ready, he slashed at its throat and stabbed it powerfully in the heart; it let out a pained sigh. Chris tried to yank the knife free but it cracked and broke and he came away with only the hilt and the short jagged remains while the rest of it remained embedded in the undeterred zombie's chest. He breathed anxiously, his only weapons were useless, he jumped as he heard a loud crash in a neighboring room, undoubtedly a creature throwing itself at the walls. Chris tried to keep his calm as the zombie drew near, he was able to use its own weight against it as he slid around it in the narrow hallway. He jogged away until he came to the door he had come through, the mansion foyer. What he saw undid all his hard work at keeping his head.

The foyer's marble gleamed, splashed with blood. Chris saw bodies, Jill, Sheva, Piers, Barry, Brad, Leon, Rebecca, Josh and Claire all dead, bodies mangled, bloodied, beaten, broken. He fell to his knees and cradled Claire's limp body in his arms.

Chris ached all over, his lungs throbbed for air with each bone-shaking beat of his heart. Tears still filled his brown eyes and as he raised them light pierced them like shards of serrated glass. He was sitting leaning forward and he felt as if he wasn't getting any oxygen at all and everything hurt. He struggled to become aware of his surroundings, all he knew was the rapid thundering of his heart and that mechanical beeping again this time much faster, almost more alarming.

Something gripped his arm, suddenly he became aware that he was crowded which only proved to heighten his unease. He felt as though he could barely see through the beams of sunlight flooding into the room, the beeping continued wildly and noisily as he fought off the objects touching him, restraining him which only seemed to draw more. He fought for breath and understanding as his pain became increasingly present. He grimaced and thrashed as sharp pains shot through his lungs and head. Slowly the memory of he and Piers fighting off the wolves came back to him, the images clear in his mind while the aftermath of the attack wracked his panicking body. The brief but alarming thought crossed his mind that even now when he was away from the threat of the infected creatures they were still taking their toll on him.

All this happened in mere seconds while his distraught overtook him, it wasn't until later that he realized he was fighting off doctors and nurses who were only trying to change his bandages and tend to his wounds. Meanwhile he fought them off violently with his intensive combat training taking over. He succeeded in fighting off the harmless medical staff until his wounds pulsed painfully, demanding to be felt. He yelled out weakly, his body wracked with unrelenting pain. He heard a familiar voice through his convulsions.

"Chris! Chris stop it!" A young feminine voice trilled at him. He recognized immediately his little sister. He snapped his gaze over to her, sunlight bouncing off her bright auburn hair; her sweet familiar face was a welcome sight to him. She tried to calm him.

Chris tried to say her name but he hadn't really ever gotten enough air; he wheezed and coughed as she touched him gently. She felt him shudder as more pain wracked his body. She desperately tried to calm him, seeing him like this was a devastating blow to her heart. His eyes were still filled with the tears of his nightmare, a nightmare that had been taking place directly in front of him, Chris thought the hospital almost felt like more of a dream and his nightmare felt like reality. All he knew, or wanted to believe, was that Claire really was alive and so was Jill and Piers and all of his partners, well, almost all but he refused to think about that at the moment. All he wanted to think about was the fact that his sister was alive and well in front of him, he could feel her warmth, and look in her blue eyes and that was real enough for him.

Eventually Chris calmed down, though his mind was still reeling with the nightmare he remembered so vividly. He looked up and noticed the staff was gone from his room, the thought of what he must have done to the doctors who were trying to help him made his chest even heavier with guilt. He took long deep breaths, as deep and long as his aching lungs would allow for.

"Are you alright?" Claire asked delicately, still in that crooning low voice. "Well, it's clear that you're not but… for now are you okay?" She said just above a whisper. Chris looked at her, his brow was furrowed, he just nodded feeling small, like a child who had just thrown a tantrum. Claire sighed and put her head in her slim hands. Chris felt guilty for putting this weight on her, he never meant for this part of his life to ever affect her at all, his first failure at that being Raccoon City and then Paris and then Rockfort Island and the nightmares she had had to experience there. Chris had felt terribly about this before but now his guilt was only heightened.

"I'm sorry Claire, I am… I never wanted any of this to impact you in any way. I never wanted you involved in any of this and it's my fault you were." He paused, resting his raw throat, he was about to say more when she cut him off.

"Save it Chris, I've heard it before. You're my big brother and I know you care about me but you can't blame yourself for everything that's happened to me forever, I've told you a million times before that I'm an adult and yata yata yata, we've been through this all before. You take the responsibility for everything that's happened when it comes to things like this… you can't take responsibility for everything Chris; you can't put all this on your shoulders! Don't you see what it's doing to you?" She started off calm and quiet but as she spoke she became angrier. He wasn't sure why she was angry with him though. He tried to speak but no words came. She looked at him piercingly,

"You are my big brother and I know you think it's your job to protect me… but then that means it's also my job to protect you too, you know…" She trailed off, her heart visibly breaking for him. He pulled her close into an embrace showing his redamancy and for a short moment he didn't feel any pain.

"I love you too." He said.

"Claire? I need to ask a favor." Chris said lowly, pulling slowly away from her to face her. He paused, embarrassment creeping into his face. She peered at him quizzically,

"What is it? Just say the word." She said kindly. He broke his gaze and looked down at the shining tiled ceramic floor and his feet.

"Just please do not tell Jill about what happened." He said, voice a low drone in the almost silent room, save for the ever present beeps and blips of the medical equipment. Chris could sense the beginnings of his sister's uneasy protests as she shifted beside him. Chris didn't know what else to say other than revealing the depths of his embarrassment and his ambiguous feelings for the BSAA agent.

Chris cleared his throat and coughed, his head feeling slightly fuzzy and his throat feeling still raw and scratched even through a flimsy and ineffective layer of whatever medicine they had given him to purge the pain tried to mask it. He could've thought of a few other issues where the same circumstance would apply if he were interested.

"Jill… Uh… She has enough on her plate as it is, she went through a lot in Africa and… well I know you know that Claire but you weren't there and I dunno… I just don't want her worrying about me when she should be concentrating on recovering from the whole ordeal…" Chris intoned, remarking to himself that sometimes he didn't feel comfortable with the way her name sounded coming out of his mouth.

Chris glanced at her with wide eyes. He already predicted that she wouldn't go along with his request but he didn't quite understand why.

"Well?" He questioned nervously. Her brow was furrowed and she pursed her lips in disquiet.

"I don't know Chris, I mean…" She trailed off for a moment, thoughtful. "I mean it is your body and everything but she cares about you and she wants to help you. And the fact is, you should be worrying about yourself right now too you know!" She said exasperatedly. Chris put his bandaged hand on hers. The concern she felt for him was striking to him.

Out of nowhere a silent flash of sickening white lightning seemed to strike right in front of his eyes. Claire's hand flashed and blood spatters suddenly decorated her dainty hand and arm, Chris snapped his gaze to her face. He could see no real expression other than one of a primal hunger and an emptiness so profound that only a shell could possess it. In the blink of an eye his sister's features were instantly those of a bloodied mutation, an animated corpse whose sole motivation was to feed.

Chris felt a huge swell of uncontrollable dread rise in him like a blooming cloud of smoke, his sympathetic nervous system tried to take over. He snapped his hand off of hers and drew back. He looked at her, aghast, fear clearly written across his face like bold black letters. He looked away after a long moment, closing his bloodshot eyes. Just as he suspected it would be, everything was normal and bright when he opened them again, ignoring Claire's increasingly fervent queries. His entire body had tensed, ready for danger. She gently pressed a hand on his back and again he had to fight to control his body against his sympathetic nervous system which had been trained for countless days and nights to never hesitate, to choose fight over flight before it was too late. She seemed to notice it, she took her hand off of him.

"It's nothing. Would you mind giving me some time alone?" He asked, voice as taut as a zip-line cord. He gave her a transparent smile, she didn't buy it at all but then again he hadn't expected her to. He could barely even hear her, the words she was saying were fuzzy and garbled as if in a thick fog, lost in translation.

"Please leave. Claire." He said kindly but strongly, leaving almost no room for objection. "I just need to be alone, I hope you'll understand." He added, his voice still draw tight like a drawstring. After a brief moment she hurriedly left with a couple of caring words which he tried to return in kind.

When she left he slumped back on the bed, feeling as tense and ready for battle as ever. Chris took shaky breaths. He hid his face in his hands and wondered furiously what the hell had happened. He had really seen her, dead and rotting exactly the same as the things he had faced up close and so many times in the past, congruent in every discernable detail. So identical he could remember every ghastly detail no matter how much he wanted to just forget it and block it all out. His throat felt like it was closing and his chest felt tight and it was hard to breathe. What the hell was happening to him? Was he some kind of freak now, unable to put the horrors of his past to rest?

He lamented silently, unable to shake the damp blanket of depression that he felt slipping over him, unable to shake the thoughts that plagued him. He feared more than anything the thought of not being able to shake loose the memories that clung to him like a dead weight, he feared he would have no choice but to isolate himself for fear of being too damaged to rejoin his peers in normal, everyday life. How could he be around others when just today he had lashed out at imaginary monsters who had turned out to be real people whom his mind had cloaked in some twisted illusion, people who were trying to help him. Chris couldn't fathom the thought of him intentionally hurting Claire, he knew he would never be able to forgive himself, he had been able to control himself this time but who knows what would happen next time…