Resident Evil: No End In Sight To This Nightmare
Disclaimer: I do not own the characters related to Resident Evil. Any similarities between monsters in my story and someone else's is completely a coincidence.
Chapter
Two: Secrets, Puzzles, and Pizza!"Hmph! No power means no open doors. Perfect, their protocol will destroy them."
Michael Jones turns from the computer screen and holds up the handgun a cop gave him when the police station was overrun.
Out of eighteen rounds, only seven remain, "And I still got seventeen miles to the Umbrella Facility. Great time to be alive. The panic at the facility is bound to be immense, IF they are still alive."
He grabs the gun from the table next to him, kicks the computer, and walks out, the early evening light casting everything in a red haze, making the town seem like it's on fire. Michael holds the gun forward and steps out into the street, at least seven undead in front of him, maybe more behind him.
"At least the Re3 haven't put up an appearance."
He was thankful for that, but it wasn't much to dwell one's thoughts and hopes into. A female zombie moans from his left and he hears it, the seemingly endless sound of flesh tearing and muscle snapping. A cold shiver runs down his spine and he slides the gun into the left pocket of his lab-coat. A wolf, or something like it, howls from over the mountain range due south. Michael breathes in deeply and coughs violently, the smell of death and decay finally getting to him.
"That was probably a Cerberus. Or something else..."
He walks down the street and kicks a zombie that got too close.
!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Leon holds his gun forward and searches the empty hotel lobby, for what, he isn't sure yet.
"There was a Comic Convention that was held here yesterday... Oh great, a zombie-Batman..." says Dusty as he heads to the left, Leon and Claire strafing to the right, guns held forward, waiting for anything.
When they are sure it's safe, the three sit down on the sofas strewn along the left-hand wall. For the first time since he told Drew to take off, Dusty is able to observe the surroundings. The A/C is blowing through three vents stuck on the molding at the top of the three walls opposite the entrance, causing loose papers to flutter around haplessly. On the reception desk, a phone is off the hook, blood covering the receiver and some pinkish fluid dripping down the front of the desk. A few of the fake plants that every hotel, hospital, and restaurant seem to have are overturned and broken, miscellaneous body parts thrown behind them.
Leon stands up and looks at the three doors, "Ok, Claire, you take the west side, Dusty, you take the east side, and I'll take the back, we meet back here in a half-hour. Got it?"
Dusty and Claire nod, they both share the same look, a look of confidence, yet fear of what may lay ahead.
Dusty checks his clip and walks through the left door, the only one with blood smeared across it, Figures... I get the door that probably leads to certain doom and long lists of pain and torture...
He smiles at the thought and pushes the door open, the gun immediately pointed down the hall, which is surprisingly empty, considering the look of the door.
He looks at the wood chips on the carpeted floor and finds a single bullet casing lying amidst the wood and paint, then it suddenly clicks, The door was shot open from this side.. Which means? Come on, think Lieutenant! There's someone else in here!
His eyes widen at the thought that someone could be here, watching him from the shadows, but the door was shot open from THIS side.
Claire! Leon! Aw crap!
He turns to open the door, but it won't budge!
He looks through the hole where the lock once was and sees one of the sofas has been pushed in front of it, But I didn't here anything.
He kicks the door and turns to the hallway, a faint sobbing sound fluttering from around the corner at the end of the hallway. Dusty's cop instincts kick in and he sidesteps down the hall, his back pointed toward most of the doors, but he wants to get the jumps on anything that may be waiting for him at the bend. He squats and pushes out with his left leg, pushing his body to the right, his head barely passing the wall, his eyes resting on a figure huddled over a dead man. The sobs are coming from her, but something is wrong...
Dusty stands up and walks toward her, his gun sliding back into the holster, "Hey, it's ok, I'm here to help yo..."
His thoughts of helping her dissipate as her sobs turn into a slow, but growing steadily laugh, the laugh reverberating down the hall.
Her laughs turn to screams of pain and torture as her skin turns read, long, white spikes growing from her fingers, Oh hell no!
!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Leon pauses at the entrance to the kitchen, his gaze locked on what appear to be footprints. He gaze is stuck between watching the hall for movement and examining the footprints.
Evenly spaced, fairly recent, and determined, whoever made these is still around and living.
He stands up slowly and turns his gaze to the kitchen, a small, hissing noise emitting from it.
He pulls his gun up and slowly steps in, his eyes immediately determining the threat in the room, a single, decapitated zombie lays sizzling on the stove, But no smell...
That little scene strikes him as terribly odd, but then he notices that the entire hotel smells like cooking flesh, he's gotten used to it already. He gives the hall one last look-over, then walks into the kitchen. He's about halfway into the cramped kitchen when he hears it, the sound of gunfire and a loud hissing noise, a hiss that could only come from one creature, a Licker.
He runs back into the hall and charges down it, rounding the corner only to have a large-caliber handgun shoved in his face, Not again...
"Who are you?!"
Leon can only stare at the figure with his mouth hung open in disbelieving awe.
!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Claire turned at the faint gunshots, but dismissed them as Leon.
He's a big boy, he can take care of himself.
Her door lead her into a large, hall?, of some sort, large plaster-covered pillars file down the room in two rows, giving the room a cathedral-like feel. She scans the room, floor-to-ceiling for any threats, but finds the place pleasantly empty, but her happiness turns to horror as the windows lining the right wall are shattered, blood trails leading from them through an open door in front of her and on the left.
She cocks her weapon and slowly creeps toward it, her eyes locked on the windows. As she passes the last one, the sound of a distant siren wails softly, possibly a tornado siren, but who knows. She jumps in front of the door and reels back at the smell, one she has almost forgotten. The smell of sewer water, like the stuff near the late Chief Irons' 'sanctuary'. She crinkles her nose and slowly walks in, her gun held tightly, so tightly that her knuckles are turning white.
Empty.. Then where did the blood come from?
The room was easily the size of a large classroom, maybe larger, with crates lining the floor, a few stacked up to five high. She opens one and screams, the answer to where the bodies went has been answered. In the first crate, the were a body's worth of clean bones surrounded by straw, but something was wrong, the skull was split in half, almost like a...
She spins around and jumps for the door, but a red flash slams her to her back, the breath jarred from her lungs. The thing that pushed her to the ground jumps into the corner near the ceiling and turns its sightless eye sockets to her, almost as if it's examining her. The Licker crawls farther away from her and twirls its tongue about wildly, missing her face by mere inches. The slime off of its tongue is extremely sticky and vile, smelling faintly of rotten flesh.
She shakily grabs her gun from the open crate and holds it up, pulling the trigger twice in succession. The first round digs into one of its hind legs, possibly severing a bone, IF it has any. The Licker hisses in pain and jumps at her, the flap of muscle that was once its left hind leg flailing behind it. The second round digs into the soft pliable brain of the creature, killing it on contact. It falls at her feet and slams into her legs, sending her to the ground yet again.
!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Dusty watches in horror as the woman turns into a hideous, red, hissing creature, long claws protruding from where her fingers once were. He holds the gun up in disgust and then lowers it as the creature flips into the air, its claws attaching to the ceiling.
Oh, you have to be shitting me... I did not just see that!
The creature turns to him and opens its mouth, a thick glob, the size of a baseball, slides down its head, landing on the ground with an audible smack. Dusty looks up and begins to stumble back into the hall, a long, flexible appendage sliding from its lipless mouth.
When the appendage, Call it what it is Stracener, a tongue, reaches its full length, it slams into the two walls, forming two, one foot deep ruts in the plaster walls.
Damn it Dusty! Shoot it! Pump that thing full of 9mm lead!
He nods and drains the clip into the beast's back, quarter-sized holes peppering the deep red of the skinless creature. He fumbles for his last clip and jams it in. His gaze turns from the gun to the creature, which has fallen down in front of him, its back legs scrunched, pushing its body into a pounce-like crouch. The tongue slashes down in between his legs and Dusty jumps back, rug and concrete hitting his body. He lands on his feet and fires three more rounds, the first two digging into its face, the third blowing the grayish brain apart.
The creature flips onto its back and kicks its legs and arms around wildly, then it slows down and dies, a long, hissing breath escaping the dead creature's mouth. Dusty stumbles back and slides down into the corner, his head cocked to one side, his gaze locked on the beast that lay dead before him.
As his mind races a million miles an hour, one solitary thought surfaces, That was a human... Umbrella has to go down! I can't let them kill any more people!
The thought brings him back to reality as a hand rests on his shoulder. He looks up and no one is there, so he grabs the hand, and it comes around, without an attached body!
He screams and throws it at the dead creature, "Ah! What the hell!?"
!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Claire heard the scream and ran back into the lobby, finding the door to the east wing blocked by a sofa.
"Who could have done this? When?"
She throws the thought aside and pulls the sofa away, the door lock blasted off, but it wasn't Dusty. She pulls the door open and spots Dusty huddling in the far corner, his head pointed down the corner, a tiny blood puddle flowing from around the corner.
"Hey! What happened?!" shouts Claire as she watches Dusty stand up, his knees shaking horribly.
He forces his head to look at her and he replies, "I do NOT want to talk about it. All I can say is THAT THING SHOULD NOT EXIST!!!!!"
Claire places a soothing hand on his shoulder and she asks, "Can you at least describe it to me?"
Dusty looks at her and literally glares daggers at her, the fear, confusion, and pure hate in his eyes evident, "No, all I can say is 'tongue'. Wait, where's Leon?"
Claire gasps and runs back into the lobby, Dusty walking slowly behind her, his mind obviously going in a thousand different directions, Just like mine was in Raccoon City.
She jumps over the reception desk and runs through the door, her mind suddenly going through a thousand different scenarios about what could have happened.
"Where have you gone Leon?" says Claire as she reaches the end of the hall, each room locked or empty.
A single thought emerges in her mind and sticks, The shot lock, the moved sofa, someone else is here!
She walks back into the kitchen and spots an open box of pizza, the smell over powered by the cooking zombie.
Pizza?
So? What you think!? Tell me, or, give me ideas of what else could happen! Who is the mysterious person with the gun? Why was Leon awe-struck when he saw them? Coming soon:-: Chapter Three: A Thousand Rooms, But No Leon! Read And For God's sake, leave me a little something in a review! CoRpAsItE
