Marcus and Parker just reached area C's cargo room. It turns out that Scott had a square MO disk that opened the large metal door to the room. In that room was a service elevator that heads straight down to BF8. The G-virus team all had the MO disk for an emergency shortcut. The room was large, and the ceiling was at least forty feet in height and over a hundred in length. Two large rows of culture tanks filled the room with a small walkway down the middle and sides. An elevator was at the end of the middle walkway. Marcus made it clear that the elevator takes some time to arrive. Nothing to do until it comes. Except for a peppy talk… Talking with a psychopath. Nice…

"Elevator will take us down to the cart?"

"Of course."

The elevator barely moved. There was a number for the elevator, and it was still on the first. Marcus made it clear that the elevator is slow. "Can this go any faster? It's still on the first floor, and this is the fifth."

"The elevator is only for the transportation of goods, child. It is not for people."

"You don't look much older than me, Doctor. You can at least address me as such."

"I have the mind of a senior citizen inside the young body of my least favourite student, as you can see I don't interact well with today's youth. I also divulge my life being ended by prepubescent children twice now already. Children are the bane of my existence, so excuse me for having that elderly charm."

"Must do with your infamy."

"I have a good reason to be the man I am today, child."

"Parker. Sergeant Annette Parker."

"Whatever." The elevator reached BF2 now. It dinged on arrival. Three dings to go. "You seem a bit young to be a sergeant." She didn't feel like responding. Maybe because she was in the presence of a brilliant madman, one that gave her and her bestie Rebecca nightmares. "That was an attempt at small talk..."

"Top of the class." Marcus said nothing for a long time. "I had a fantastic teacher."

"Same." She turned her head to his and paid attention to his face. He was frowning and wasn't wearing his glasses. They were in his shirt pocket. "People are only as good as the teachers that taught them."

"You're well-spoken for a man as infamous as you."

"You're too curious for a wide-eyed child… Parker." He stared back away and focused on the elevator. "I have my reasons for turning out this way..."

The elevator dinged at BF2. It was audible over the siren that still blared around the facility. "You mean you weren't always a monster?"

He chuckled lightly. "It's easy to perceive me as such. Has someone been reading you my diaries or something? Yes, yes, I experimented on nosy people for my own research… I'm a saint in comparison to Spencer. I at least tried to be good."

"Who's Spencer?"

"Do you know what's it's like starting a company with your closest friends, Parker? Friends I trusted, fought for… killed for… In education we all had a dream, to help our fellow man to live and not survive in the anguish of war. We had our own views to pursue our dreams, yet we all shared the same teachers, friends and even the same town. And for that dream to be a reality we had to hide our agendas behind Umbrella to exploit our greatest archaeological discovery. If people had to suffer for us to make the world a better place, then so be it, better to die to medical science than pointless wars…"

"How would Umbrella make the world a better place?"

"For a start, there's jobs, pharmaceuticals and political influence."

"The corporation was started just to cover up a virus study?"

"Correct, Umbrella was born to hide our experiments on the Progenitor virus. We needed silence from the outside world, money and time… The applications and power the virus had to help people were wasted once the mortal coils of our humanity was lost by greed." He frowned even more if it was possible. "Spencer killed my brother, our friends and even our fellow founders… if it was to control more of Umbrella or to make money, it was hard to pinpoint the reason. Those were the darkest times of our company. The way they were stabbed in the back… I...I couldn't care anymore. I just sought closure in my research and then I… I didn't care… It was just me and my life's work. Once Ashford's accidental death rocked up in 68, the casualties just started to pile up. Our dream turned into another big corporation filled with imbeciles trying to climb the ladder."

"Weren't there three founders?"

"Common misconception. It was myself, Spencer, Ashford and Wesker SENIOR. That was before we were all murdered by Spencer. Those two were killed about thirty years ago. My time came recently two years ago, and again a few months back."

"Who's Wesker Senior?"

"Albert Wesker Senior. Do you know him?"

"I met a Captain Albert Wesker. I know his sons quite well too but not the senior you're describing."

"No one remembers him..."

"Was betrayal a regular problem?"

"Umbrella was all Spencer had. The founders all had their families, and even I enjoyed myself in my studies. Concerning friends, well… after the war, I kept in touch with an old German friend of mine." He chuckled and lost his frown. "She was a Nazi supporter when we first met, but after we got together she… changed. Even I had a wide selection of friends, friends that kept me happy… Spencer not so much..."

"You were in the war?" The elevator dinged again. The first ding she didn't care, but after the second she felt a bit more serene being around Marcus. He was a monster in his own right, but deep down, it almost felt like he wasn't always so bad.

"I was supposed to but I chose to pursue education. This woman, Bridgette, I met her somewhere in the late thirties. We were both students and the German agriculture class was next to mine."

"I can't imagine what happened between you two."

"Then you're lucky I'm not babbling about my social life."

"Yes. The founders..."

"Spencer, Ashford and I went on a trip to New York and shortly after we met Wesker. We all became friends. Umbrella was born in the late sixties, and then it was all about making money. Especially to Spencer."

He stared back at Parker with a smile. She was still watching him drivel on. "After Ashford suddenly passed away," he continued, "our company was in financial debt because he handled our money. Spencer wanted to sell out our company to our rival Verkraft, and when all the living founders - including myself - voted no, he took it personally. That's when he started cutting losses."

"Killing losses? Right?"

"Yeah." He frowned again and brushed his shoulder. "Just like that, I lost all my closest friends and my brother. I was saddened when I heard they were murdered by some unknown person at the time, but I just lost the reason to care about them. Once they died, the only thing I had left was my research and it was my whole world. I cared so little Spencer had no competition to nominate himself as company director. A position I could've taken from him."

"Did he sell out once he got what he wanted?"

"Surprisingly, he didn't. Spencer really wanted to sell Umbrella to keep it alive, but with all the people that voted against him were somehow killed by an apparent serial killer, we assumed he took control as our director to keep our company from falling apart."

"Umbrella employs the smartest people in America, how could no one find that suspicious?"

"I knew him too well; he wasn't that bad at the time… He never sold the company, so we didn't rule him as a suspect at the time. Once it all blew over, it was all for one and none for all. The aftermath."

"Apparently that guy is still alive."

"Sneakiest bastard I ever met. He shelled out and hired some lapdog named Simmons or whatever as his assistant while I demoted myself as a general manager. Hadn't seen him in years… I just shut up and tended my research and kept things under control while he sought out his own agenda. He was powerful enough to have his lackeys to do his dirty work while he worked his own way. Then by his order, they assassinated me by using Scott here as a scapegoat. I'm surprised I lasted as long as I did."

"Scott killed you?"

"Can you see why I'm so bitter now? I'm trapped in the body of a traitorous pup I once called my best student and every time I see my reflection all I see is the eyes of the bastard that killed me. Gives me a heart attack every time I cast an eye to my mere reflection. I taught him everything he knew, and this is how he repaid me?"

Parker turned to him. Offended. "Scott isn't a bastard."

"Isn't he? I was there in the delivery room, and I didn't see a ring on his mother's finger. All fairness, though, she was a good colleague and an excellent wife. Honestly, a shame when she died. I never heard Albert cry like that in his life."

"This conversation is making me uncomfortable."

"We can just sit here in silence until the elevator arrives."

"How about you tell me how you tricked me back in that monitor room."

He folded his arms, and he still smiled. "During the war, I slept with a spy, and in the morning she held me at gunpoint. The weapon was an American model, and she didn't know how to handle it. I kept it unloaded while I hidden her handgun the night before and she was none the wiser. Never mess with an intellectual."

"Damn… If you weren't such a… horrible man… I'd appreciate your stories." The elevator dinged again. "Just one more to go..."

Something crashed down from the ceiling, tearing a large hole and sending bits of twisted metal in all directions. The ceiling's concrete started to crumble. Marcus and Parker dived and rolled out of harm's way from whatever crashed down with bits of ceiling metal. They were on their feet ready with their handguns already taking aim. It was William G-type.

It already evolved as its muscle mass is considerably thicker and covered more of the body. Toppling over ten feet in height, it had four muscular arms with crude talons on each meaty hand. Perfect for ripping and searing flesh. There were no more signs of his humanity left for the eyes to behold. It was clear that he wanted to do nothing but kill and his eyes were already set on Parker. It rose to his feet and stretched out its arms. It roared loudly at the top of its lungs.

"Five minutes until detonation!" the P.A. system blared.

"Holy shit… It's Birkin!"

"That's Birkin?" Birkin G-type read its head towards Marcus. "You really let yourself go… my apprentice..." Birkin G-type growled harshly and turned to him. He had its attention. Did he want it? "I always wanted to make you pay for stealing my research you selfish pup! You will know your place, Birkin!" Birkin G-type stepped closer to him and growled louder. He stepped back. "It's only fair the apprentice surpasses the master, but I think it's about time you learned your place. Birkin, you're FIRED!"

Birkin G-type roared, far louder than before and picked up its pace. It chased Marcus away from Parker, and he retreated while he fired his Browning at it with wicked accuracy. His bullets grouped round at Birkin G-type's chest, and it slowed him down generously. Parker ran around the corner and decided to swap her weapons over. Her M79 should turn some heads. The first shell exploded in a glorious display of yellow corrosion all over Birkin G-type's back and shoulders. It hissed but still chased Marcus who was up against the back wall. He wasn't worried, his aim was good enough to hit the lump it called a head with focused firing.

"The master still has some tricks up his sleeve," Marcus sneered.

Marcus looked like he was trying to kite it away or lead drag it along and perform hit and run attacks on it. Birkin hated Marcus that much? Marcus at with it. He seemed to enjoy it for an old man. Must make him feel young again. She replaced the empty M79 with another yellow shell and fired again. The recoil of the launcher had some heft.

The second round detonated over its back again and its hiss was even louder. The force of it all pressed William G-type against the wall where Marcus was before he ran over to the other side of the room. It almost fell but held onto the walls and stared up at the ceiling above. The talons tore into the walls and gave it leverage to scale up the corner and shifted its weight around to launch itself across to the other side of the room, far and wide over the culture tanks. Parker had to start chasing them. Grudge fights are the worst…

Every second two shots from Marcus' handgun sent a ring to Parker's ears, the room projected sound to be amped more than it is usually. The frequent ringing meant William G-type was taking damage; more was merrier in the case for survival. Unlike Marcus though, William G-type showed no signs of slowing down as he can still leap and jump multiple body lengths. With thanks to its mutated agility, it can easily close the distance. It had to die ASAP. With a fresh 40mm shell loaded, Parker pursued it and Marcus and ran to the middle of the room and fired again.

A grenade shell whistled over Marcus' head and detonated on William G-type's chest; the corrosive acid melted everything nearby. The tanks and flooring were not safe. Some sizzled and fizzed away. William G-type's flesh blistered and bubbled while it melted away at an alarming rate. William G-type knelt down and gave Parker some time to stand by Marcus' side. With a quick reload and a nod, they stood ready for William G-type.

"You were never a good student, Birkin!" Marcus taunted.

William G-type dropped on all fours and rapidly morphed its body into a more canine shape. With the four limbs and two hind legs, it took the form of a mutated canine with a long back and merged the head at the top of its wide, gaping mouth, complete with many rows of teeth. It howled and spat everywhere with its vicious ferocity. Savage white bones, teeth or even spiked extended over its body. Limbs shifted, muscled bulged against its skin, and it mutated further into a dog-like form.

William G-type hopped back away from Parker and Marcus to get some distance. When it was sizeable enough, William G-type kicked its feet like a bull and then it was running. Sprinting. Galloping. It growled and swung its claws at the two, but the ducked under and ran forward while William G-type's momentum carried it on towards the door behind them.

"I always preferred Albert over you, Birkin!"

Marcus and Parker used their handguns to some effect but the hardest part was keeping William G-type in their sights, it leapt culture tank to another and alternated between them and the occasional wall. It was like hitting a flea with a BB gun. It gave the impression that William G-type was desperate and it had good reason to be, it knew it was losing. The two stayed in the middle of the room and fired their handguns at William G-type while it leapt across the room over the culture tanks and walls. It hissed before every leap.

Then William G-type landed between Parker and Marcus, a small shockwave that caved in the floor separated them to either side with Parker sent away to the service elevator and Marcus back towards the way they came. It swung each of its meaty arms at the two, launching Parker off her feet and whipping Marcus on his side. He rolled up quickly on his feet as it turned back to him. Marcus ran back towards the door and quickly reloaded his Browning from the get-go.

William G-type leapt again and fixed itself over the double doors, just missing Marcus and leaping onto the corner he was running to and dramatically cut him off. With the claws pressed into the walls, it clawed its way down to the ground and started chasing him again in the opposite direction. Marcus was tiring down now; he hadn't run for his life this badly since his scholar days, now doing it on the fly was just too demanding.

William G-type caught up and made contact. With the speed of a galloping mustang, William G-type swatted the side of Marcus' head with the back of its hand at the single or second time he reared his head behind. It took the opportunity and lashed out at his former mentor.

Spiralling out of control in mid-air, Marcus came down hard and heavy against the frame of one of the culture tanks. With the side of his right temple slamming down on the frame with the force of ten men, his howling ceased and fell silent. He rebounded off and fell on his back. It was so quick it didn't notice the barrel of Parker's loaded M79 and the gleam in her innocent eyes. Onc closed. Taking aim.

The sound of a hefty boom, a shell saturated William G-type's face mouth and teeth with corrosive chemical, the yellow explosion was truly glorious enough to leave it reeling on its hind legs like an injured pup. That's what most traitors like it deserved; it better learn that lesson and heel because she was on her last grenade.

William G-type backed away and roared, baring its wide open mouth. The worst sight was the rows of teeth dancing in a mocking rhythm. Its back arched over its back legs like a cat and soon enough it was coming at her at full speed. It lashed out its claw right at her and flew straight over her head from her ducking low and rolling down under it. William G-type had so much speed it clamped down on the floor and slid back around at her. Sparks flew off the metal and screeched like nails on a chalkboard. Parker scrambled up to her feet and fired her last shell as William G-type began to pounce.

The shell detonated not where she intended to aim, instead of William G-type's face it ruptured under its chin and underbelly, it was hard to tell them apart. William G-type flipped over in the air and plunged down hard on its back. It tumbled over on its belly and finally stopped rolling by the double doors. It struggled to get up on its feet with all the sulphuric acid melting away its muscle and flesh leaving blisters and third-degree burns, William G-type gurgled and collapsed under its weight. It started to melt and fizz away into a small pool of bloody purple blob of muck. It was sickly looking.

Parker almost felt like throwing up her lunch in her hands. She was stronger than that, so she just looked away, William G-type wasn't moving anymore, and unfortunately, neither was Marcus. Wait. Is he mumbling? Yes. He was still okay. The elevator arrived and dinged, right on time. But what now? Should she carry him? She lifted his arm; he was heavier than he looks. He mumbled louder and started to sit up.

"Doctor?" He mumbled louder and sat upright. She leant in closer and helped him to his feet. "You good?"

"I'm sorry…?" he said, almost a bit softer than his usual tone.

"Come on we need to go," she said, "the elevator's here."

"Oh my God! Who activated the self-destruct system? And what are we doing in the cargo room?"

"Doctor? Are you alright?"

He touched his head once, where he was shot, where he impacted the culture tank. He yelped. "What's this?! Did someone hit me or something? There's a lump and…" He looked at his bloody fingers. "Is that blood? I was talking to Claire, and now I'm suddenly here. Did someone hit me or something?"

"You don't remember?" He said nothing. "Scott?"

"Who else? What's going on, Annette? Where's Claire?"

She smiled. "Scott… You haven't been yourself lately."

"What? I don't remember anything only that I was with Claire and now I'm here."

"We'll explain later. Come on; we need to get to the emergency cart."

Parker and Marcus both made haste to the service elevator and boarded it quickly. Its descent was quicker than before, thank goodness for that. There was no way of telling how long was left until the facility capsized. Could be anything between ten seconds or three minutes at the very latest. One thing for sure, the siren would not stop blaring.