Part III: An infinite nightmare
"Why are you just standing there?" Nicholai asked in gruesome pain. "That cunt actually did it. All this running and avoiding the undead; it really takes you back to Raccoon City doesn't it? It won't be easy getting to that elixir at this rate, but if you give me a hand we can split the profits together. Christ, two kids; a shadow war within Umbrella's nightmare thickens with the next generation. Ha…we'll just have to teach them this life is a man's game."
"Do you hear yourself, Nicholai? At least have the balls to admit what you've done. Endless murder." Carlos said as Nicholai slowly rose up with hand pressed against his wound. "You really believe you can take on both Queens on your own, no means of fire power or..."
"Shut your mouth!" He demanded.
"You really think they're going to buy into whatever bullshit threats you come up with?"
"That's where you're wrong, comrade. I've known you since you've joined my team. We are old dogs of war; our destinies are planned and executed. What happened to Mikhail, my reasons for being in that hospital researching the T-Virus data, killing those who were in my way? Years later I have come to realize that I was just another pawn in Umbrella's power game. My greed after getting a large sum from the B.O.W. data, it wasn't enough."
"Is there a point to this plea I'm not getting?" He asked.
"You were always a funny man, Oliveira; even in the face of the outbreak. I couldn't comprehend emotions like that." He continued still grunting in pain. "That lady cop you were with; spoils of war. If you are asking if I regret the past? The weak are expendable. Real men transcend into greatness, and greatness is what I have come here for."
"Old fools do die with foolish pride. Put down your gun, Nicholai." Carlos said putting down his rifle and sticking his knife on the ground. "Let's see if the real man walks out of this citadel alive."
A quiet citadel sheltered two men of disheveled pasts to represent the setting stage for their final showdown. Nicholai was a greedy, heartless bastard who worked for a greedy, heartless company, getting paid blood money for killing his own team and made none who associated with him live to tell the truth of what happened. Carlos got the short end of the stick when he got hired as a mercenary from Umbrella. He thought working alongside Nicholai would give him an edge in surviving the outbreak, but there were moments where he would leave Carlos in the wind, making empty promises to get help when situations had gotten too dangerous. A few years after the outbreak, the government realized the Umbrella Corporation was a liability as much as a threat to the human population.
Nicholai moved back to Russia with the money he had gotten for his troubles, wasting it away on booze and women twice his age. However, he invested some of the money to the reincarnation of the T and G-Viruses in hopes someone on the Black Market would hook him up. Umbrella's resources were left wide open to all illegal organizations. He always had a get rich quick scheme brewing when his wallet was feeling light. Norway was his only card left to play; his client wanted a sample of the Valhallan Elixir, and as a bonus bring in one of the Queens alive, but with his recent injury the White Queen bestowed, "alive" wasn't in his vocabulary. He too dropped his gun and knife, raising his hand from the bleeding wound and clenching it into a fist. Carlos put both his hands up and readied himself for a beat down he was about to bring.
"When you see Mikhail, Tyrell, and Murphy, they will look at you as the traitor you are. May they never grieve for your death." Carlos said.
"If that's how our partnership must depart." Nicholai replied.
The two faced each other, and the fight between both war dogs began. Carlos had gotten the upper hand when he threw a right hook and uppercut on Nicholai's chin; he threw another left hook and kneed him in the injured area. Just when he was about to split his skull by bashing it against the ground, Nicholai lifted him up, angrily screaming, and hit his chest by thrusting it onto his knee. It left him coughing up some blood after. Carlos held his chest and kept his eyes focused on taking him down. He got on both feet and slid towards him, landing a round house kick.
Nicholai jumped mid-way and threw his left fist to give Carlos a severe shiner; he then grabbed his arm and attempted to twist it. He kicked Carlos three feet from him and with frustration of his injury, he walked with persistence and lifted him off the ground, head butted him, landed four straight punches on his side, and restrained him. Both breathed hard; for a man with old age taking over his body he still had some bite left in him.
"I never told you about my family in the motherland." He said restraining his neck and his left arm. "Before joining Umbrella, I was born with five other brothers. Umbrella's Russian Director, Sergei, spoke of an opening to join a task force in taking down bio organic weapons where S.T.A.R.S soldiers failed to kill. During the initiation process, twenty-seven young men entered Sergei's test grid. Only three of my brothers, including myself, were chosen for this final test."
Carlos had gotten some wiggle room and elbowed his left chest plate, grabbing the back of his neck and flipped him over. He walked to him and grabbed his armor and dragged him towards the hot spring water. Nicholai used both legs to do a half back flip and both his boots were pressed on his face, sending Carlos falling hard on the ground. He then stood up and grabbed Carlos' long hair; he threw three punches before pausing for a sec and delivering a fourth one. This gave Nicholai the advantage in choking him while he was down for the count.
"Cowardice is the enemy. Reliance on smart-assed comical shit heads, that truly pisses me off." He said tightening his grip. "I guess I should consider you as a man in surviving nightmares, but the truth is I hated your playful antics. You playing nice with that cop slut..."
"Leave Jill out of this!" Carlos said trying to break his grip.
"There were many women who have been disregarded as human beings. In a world where hardship challenges the strong, every man is king. I'm old, comrade. That Jill what-ever-her-name-was is still looking good after all this time. When I take the elixir and leave this place, my bloodline will endure. She'll be nothing but a breeding tool for my satisfying pleasure."
Growing tired of his hollowed threats, Carlos used both his thumbs and thrust them into Nicholai's eye stalks. He released Carlos from choking him and kicked his chest away from his sight. He then got up and lifted Nicholai off the ground; as he landed some serious impacts to his face, he said he had no right talking to her that way, that she was a better person than he ever was. Carlos landed one last uppercut which sent Nicholai towards the bubbling hot spring. Something was stirring in the water; he had a feeling it wasn't bubbles from the heat. Carlos had him on the ropes and head first nearly in the water, and suddenly piranhas were jumping out and gathering altogether for their last meal.
"Comrade please!" Nicholai pleaded as he spat out blood. "I get it. You want her for yourself; that's good. The real man has proven that today; just let me die with some dignity."
"Oh don't feel so glum, Nick. I'm not stupid; you'll just escape again. Did you know piranhas can devour a man in 60 seconds by their numbers alone? There is no escape this time, Ginovaef. The elixir will never be released to the world. Your death means another monster from Umbrella gone from this world."
"You're a real hero." Nicholai said to himself sarcastically.
As Carlos was about to toss him into the school of flesh eating piranhas, Nicholai attempted to stab him with a hidden knife in his armor jacket. Carlos grabbed his arm and both strained for the knife to head in one direction. Carlos took the knife and jabbed it into his forehead; soon after he tossed the dead weight into the spring. Blood and hungry fish were on each other like mad savages. With that act, He felt a huge burden lifted from his shoulders as he walked away from the dreaded event.
He picked up his rifle along with his army knife from the ground. Before leaving to catch up with the two teenagers he met, the adrenaline swiftly left him for a bit. He took a moment to compose himself; it was over. Carlos had been waiting for the opportunity to see him again after Raccoon City. It was a fool's errand for justifying the means. Before moving on, he said a prayer for the remainder of his last job as a mercenary. He prayed for safety with past experiences with the undead to guide him in getting out of Norway alive, and see one link cut off from Bioterrorism. As he was walking away with purpose still set in motion, the seven year score with his old Sergeant left a long, relieving sigh from his mouth. A monster from Umbrella's domain was diminished. When he had gotten some wind in his chest back, he made his way out of the Citadel.
Around the year 2014 in the present time, new information arose from Chicago Senator, Alexander Rothstein. Adrien showed Sherry what he found. According to past affiliations before running for office, Alexander was an employee of an airport terminal in North Dakota back in 1983. He went to college on student loans to study criminal justice and government. He had an aptitude in turning a crowd from a theater of devastating consequences.
But back then he didn't have a job. He couldn't pay off his loans until a young man of immeasurable wealth came to visit him one day. The name was unknown. Speaking of which, his real name wasn't "Rothstein" to begin with. Adrien dug some more and found out his full name was an alias to a deceased politician in Brooklyn. His real name was Lars Pikkons.
The mysterious young man saw Lars' situation as a way in bringing him into a fold of some sort. In order to pay back his debt, he would have to move up the political chain rather quick to become a Chicago Senator. Lars already had the words and the courage to use them; it was the money that drove him further. It was a typical vice but it was common for Government to see only money. Adrien also pulled up a news story that was posted around noontime. It spoke of Pikkons in talks with the Vice President in setting up military teams to take down the Neo-Umbrella joint divisions.
"Twenty-seven facilities discovered?!" Sherry asked.
"Real question is with the Chinese facility disavowed how are these new facilities being funded? There has been no known record of Simmons having connections to any other corporation while being Chief Advisor." Adrien said.
"He was a blunt individual when I worked under him. I didn't know much about his personal life except being a close friend to President Benford. Whatever happened to Tricell?"
"Tricell's in the wind after the Uroboros Project went awry in Africa; a win for all of us by your friend Chris Redfield and Sheva Alomar. The talks are supposed to take place this Thursday night followed by a Banquet at the Coraline Hotel on Saturday night. It's a mandatory occasion it seems."
"Good thing we made reservations ahead of time like." Sherry pointed out.
"National Security, City Council, a few commanding officers from the BSAA, high rollers, Pharmaceutical Executives, and a…third party; hmm."
Someone knocked on Adrien's office door. It was Mark in a subtle foul mood.
"Is everything alright, Mark?" Adrien asked.
"No, no, no problem." He replied while standing in a tense way. "Your storyteller seems to be in better shape than when he first came here. Kind of odd don't you think?"
"Maybe the hotel's feeding him well...?" Adrien said in a questioning tone. "Is there something you need?"
"Yeah I-I actually came here to ask you a direct question. When am I going to stop being your bitch?"
Adrien asked Sherry to check on Damien while he and Mark were going to have a one-on-one chat. She wanted to ask what was going on, but their smug expressions said enough. She walked by Mark with his shoulder hitting hers and went back to the interrogation room. Adrien closed out of the files he was looking at online and stood up from his desk.
"Nineteen months, Adrien. I have helped you clean up Simmons mess in Lanshiang, China, kept twenty-four hour surveillance on all C-Virus infected areas so the BSAA can be one step ahead. I kept the board members off your back so you can do your job properly without them dictating your every approach. What do I get in return, huh? I am tired of being your secretary. I have been with National Security way before you joined up."
"Calm down Mark. We can talk about this." Adrien demanded.
"No!" He shouted before falling to his knees acting in agony.
Adrien panicked for a second before calling two other agents to take him to the hospital. Mark wasn't doing too well from what he could see. He looked like he was having a heart attack but tears of pure white came seeping down his eyes as well. Soon after, until the agents came in he was having a mental breakdown. He punched a wall next him and kept banging his head against the floor. The two agents ran in and grabbed Mark; he told them to stop what they were doing. Adrien expressed that he needed help…before Mark said what he really came in for.
"I'm done, Grey." He said in pain as the agents were holding him. "You're way too soft to be Chief Advisor. I've wanted to say that a month after you took this job. I quit."
"Take him out of here." Adrien ordered them.
"Stand the hell down!" Mark demanded as they backed away slowly. "Are you that blind, Grey? Simmons' heart may have been for the wrong woman, but his goal was always clear. Pretty soon our evolution event will come to pass; it's been prophesized. Genetic Mutation was merely a fluctuation of human kind. The final step is the absolute. I'll finally get what I deserve. No need to see me out, Chief Advisor. My "Family" will take care of me."
"Hold up one second more." Adrien said looking Mark in the weeping eyes. "I am blind to some things, Agent Omahan. I'll admit that, but if there is one thing I do well in this job, is to stop potential threats and listen to my employees. They're honest with me, I'm honest with them. So, is there anything you need to tell me?"
Mark's cold response was one of silence as he looked Adrien up and down with a look of disgust. He left his office while his two agents stood there for further instruction. One of the agents did notice his white tears and wanted to investigate something on that. This agent in particular was really good in getting past fire walls to unlock unseen information. His name was Agent Cori Brewster.
Adrien told him about a case he and Sherry were working on about a Wesker connection, and he needed someone to pull up some stuff about the Banquet with both the Vice President and the third party that was attending. Brewster accepted the offer in doing whatever he could to prevent another biohazard; permanently this time. Adrien checked his watch and he had three minutes left to get to his board meeting. He made a mental reminder to do another background check on Mark. Both were bound to get a reason behind the white tears and the reason behind Mark's newfound behavior.
Sitting in the interrogation room, Damien felt details of his past experiences in Norway were flooding back, but he was still unsure in what Venezia was planning to do with his soul. That one threat made clear to him on a paper covered in scribbles back at the hotel still boggled his mind. Right then he got to thinking; maybe taking Mark's advice in altering his details was a good way to keep Venezia from doing anything foolish. Before coming to Washington and meeting Sherry, he was a recluse with a poor excuse of an appetite and scars that would never cease to cause him grief. This time after a couple days he felt like he had some control over his actions; he could still feel her nearby, but if any pain was to come from that he would be ready.
Sherry came back to the interrogation room, and mentioned a coffee place called "Jupiter's Café". She said they had different sandwiches and delicious scones with lattes to calm even the most stressed mind. They went off to the café. A beige Sudan followed two cars behind them; Sherry didn't think anything of it. After a few miles from the Security building however she took an alternate route to shoo off the Sudan.
When they got to their destination the cool air blew past Damien's face once more. It was the same feeling he felt when being brought to the Agency for the first time. To him, the fresh air was a welcoming gift to his skin, no matter how cold it was at the time. He had a corn beef sandwich on white bread and bottled water while Sherry had a raspberry scone and a decaf latte. As they ate, she noticed him scarfing the sandwich down like he hadn't eaten in months.
"Sorry." He said when Sherry gave him a look. "I haven't had a good sandwich like this in a while."
"It's alright. Nippy out here though." Sherry replied while eating her scone.
"You get used to it; me living in Denver and all. It could be in the late twenties over there where it's eighty degrees in other states. So, when I'm done telling you what I know about the Wesker connection and how Carlos helped us in the temple, I'm free to go right? I go back home and forget this ever happened?"
"Damien, she said with concern, you have to understand something. What you experienced in Norway, what the world went through with all these viruses and death, that's something that's going to stick with you until the day you die. I lost my parents in Raccoon City; my dad used the G-Virus on himself and my mother died not too long before that. It scarred us. At least now we have a chance to have a formidable force to prevent future biohazards. We can..."
"I don't care about these things. I mean, I'm sorry about your folks and I can relate to an extent. My parents abandoned me and made separate families of their own, cut me out of their will and everything." He said drinking his water. "After Norway I stood far removed from the rest of society because I was too damaged to face it."
"What about this joint division for the BSAA you thought up; the M.F.S?"
"It wasn't my idea. It belonged to one of the survivors who came back with me. I hardly remember what it was about; something about being tired the Government keeps allowing these experiments to happen and needs to be stopped at their source."
"Wesker right?" Sherry asked.
Suddenly, he told Sherry he needed to make a phone call and asked if it was alright with her to use his own cell phone. She asked about the company blackberry that was sent to his hotel door. He checked his phone and it wasn't activating; it seemed to have run out of juice a little while ago. Then he checked his back pockets and made an excuse that he left the blackberry at their building. Sherry offered some change for a pay phone when suddenly she had to take a call as well. There was a pay phone across the street from the Café. When he walked to it he suddenly got a feeling someone was watching him, only this time he wasn't feeling any chest pain, not even Venezia appearing out of nowhere. He called the person who texted him the good news.
"Hey it's me. I got your text; you have no idea how relieved I am to know this…what's the problem…of course there's going to be side effects; I can take it if that means I'm going to be fully healed. At this point, I'll take anything…
Damien's smile slowly went upside down and held onto the pay phone machine so he wouldn't collapse. All the blood left his face and had this feeling of doom in his eyes.
…shit, has it been tested on someone else…oh Jesus Christ…will it be quick…yes I still want to take it. If there's any other way…please don't do that…h-how about this; you come on down to Denver and…I have no one to say goodbye to…I've lost touch with him. He hasn't been answering his phone or the dozen letters I've sent. You're the only one I was able to stay in touch with. If-if you give me some time I can fly you…goddamn it you think I wanted this to happen to me?! I saved your life for God's sake; if that monster had…no please don't hang up…hello?"
Sherry talked to Claire concerning her condition. She had a theory behind what had been causing her to be sick for the past week. Being a surrogate mother and a great tribute to counteract different viral diseases, she was running a Pharmaceutical company called TerraSave: the Umbrella Corporation that was everything it "promised" on the airwaves; to secure a better future for mankind. In essence, after Umbrella shut down its businesses across the globe TerraSave picked up the tarnished pieces. Quite an evolution for someone who was once a spunky biker girl on a zombie killing crusade, in the hopes of finding her brother Chris in Raccoon City.
"You're in luck, Sherry. The cause behind you getting sick is temporary, but here's the mystery. Jake's anti-bodies provided a cure to the C-virus which ended any further airborne transmission."
"Then what could be the cause?"
"Well, that's the mystery. Your blood sample indicated your G cells were rapidly disintegrating whenever you were exposed to some unique herbal remedy. It must be a potent resource. Do any of your co-workers drink tea?"
"One co-worker did once. During lunch, he poured something I've never seen before into his tea. Since then he had been feeling aggressive yet unnaturally determined. I've been working alongside him for over ten months. You think it's...well you know?"
"In all my experience, I have never seen a virus actually help someone. Except two years ago when Leon was in Russia and some Freedom Fighter had complete control over the Plaga parasite. I don't know how else to put it Sherry. What you've been feeling may be an anti-viral agent to reform your G cells into regular human cells. You're healing."
Damien stayed grounded on his knees as if he had the weight of a wrecking ball on his shoulders. He hung up and got on one knee as if he was about throw up. When he looked at the ground it had two feet with a man standing over him; Mark had been listening in on his whole conversation. Damien asked why he was following him when Mark acknowledged him in being observant. He told him he had stepped down from his position in National Security, for reasons that showed no concern for Damien yet.
However, he made it clear their arrangement was still valid. Something inside Damien made him snap. It wasn't chest pain; maybe it was impulsive anger. Whatever it was he got fed up with Mark all of a sudden, and slammed his body on the side of a wall of a Barbershop. The impact let off a loud booming sound while still keeping the place intact. Sherry ended her call and ran across the street to see what the fuss was about. With both hands scrunched up on Mark's jacket with eyes of radiant blue, he tried to fight what was growing inside him. Sherry broke both of them up.
"What the hell is going on?!" Sherry demanded.
"Go ahead, Mr. Walsh; tell her. Tell her our evolution event is coming soon." Mark said in an emotionless, yet cold tone.
"Evolution event?!" Sherry said as she was trying to wrap her head around the situation. "Mark what happened with you and Adrien? I got a text from him saying you quit!"
"That piece of shit didn't even know I was occupying my job as a nest. He'll do his research about the Banquet going on Saturday night. He's cleverer than he looks; he wants to prepare."
"Whoa hold on, what are you even...?" She said before pausing. "Why are your tears white?"
Suddenly, Mark grabbed both of them and with swift movement, he hid away from the public. They ended up in the back of a convenient store. It was desolate and quiet, and was five miles away from the Café. Damien was on the ground coughing with Venezia patting his back to get him on his feet. Sherry and Mark were frozen in time. It was this moment he was not only losing his mind, but everything else about himself, his perception of real world society. But that view had been long gone since he accepted the Norway trip years ago.
"This is it Damien. Remember what I told you in the car the first time you were brought to Washington?"
"What did you do?" Damien asked in disbelief.
"I brought you your first gig. In the past since you were in complete denial of the gift I have bestowed on you I didn't bother with this one. As of late he has shown his true nature."
"You know him?"
"My blood is in him, but he is no child of mine. You sealed away that privilege long ago. No, he got this blood through viral transmission. Take care; the blood in him is only five months old so he has experience with its side effects."
Damien didn't move a single inch from where he was. On both his hands and the stubble on his cheeks, he felt a cool, yet burning sensation. The urge to become what he has been avoiding was growing stronger than it ever had before.
"How about a little incentive?" She said before snapping her fingers and disappearing soon after?
The environment was in motion again. Sherry was trying to comprehend what was going on, but Mark hit the one nerve that was once buried bone deep inside Damien after all these years. He brought up his grandmother, mocking him and calling out on the crappy life he was leading when he was brought back to society. Then, he made a crack about dirt in his nails, saying it was hard to get granny ashes out of them. His eyes grew pulsing veins and snapped. He stood up and screamed like he didn't have anything left to lose, pushed Sherry out of the way, broke Mark's left arm and sent his right hand sharply through his chest. It wasn't the smart move; the white blood gushing out from his back was slowly peeling off the flesh on Damien's arm. Mark laughed maniacally as he was pulling his arm out, leaving him going into shock from the impulse action he took. Sherry couldn't believe her eyes when he was still standing.
"Come Saturday, Mark said as his chest closed up, everything changes."
He laughed once more before Sherry shot two bolts from her tazer gun. He caught them and threw them back; she dodged them and by the time she looked up he was gone. She went back to Damien and his eyes were peeled wide open. He tried holding on to his breath for a few more seconds, but then, he lost consciousness. He waited too long for a cure to be made for his chest injury; where would he go in such circumstances?
Hell? It sure felt like it to him; seeing and feeling the nothingness of what death brings. Would he go back to Norway and relive his temple horrors for all eternity? Up until he met Sherry, what he did there was far removed from his memory, and had only gotten bits and pieces back as he told his story. Was he to be embraced by the one and only White Queen as her own puppet, and become the final step in human evolution Mark was talking about? Her voice wasn't present; her face was kept in shadow.
For some odd reason, he opened his eyes to a city covered in embers and desperation. Death in zombie form was walking around him. He was in an alley way just like the one behind the convenient store in Washington. Suddenly, one zombie that looked to be a cop got a little too attention seeking as Damien tried holding him back from biting into his neck. He pushed the zombie away and when he was about to get up he felt constrained against the brick wall in immense pain. He looked down at his lower stomach towards the right; he saw something sticking out.
It was a piece of metal, but the zombie got aggressive and grabbed hold of his leg. Just when he was about to sink his rotting dentures into his flesh he got shot in the head. Due to the blood loss from metal sticking out of his stomach, he couldn't get a good look at the shooter. Before passing out, he heard a muffled voice that sounded like it was talking to others to get a move on; one muffled the name "Sherry". To what felt like a few hours into the nightmarish reality, he felt his shoulder getting nudged. His body was numb so he didn't know whether or not he was getting fed on. Another voice then came into play, kept imploring Damien to wake up. A face he had not seen in almost a decade was revealed.
"Grandma." Damien said in an exhausting tone.
"Thank Christ you're alive, Damien." She said getting things out of her pack. "I was very close to using my car alarm. Here drink this." She said taking out a water bottle.
"Can this be real?" He asked himself.
"Drink first; explanation next." She insisted giving him a water bottle.
She poured warm H20 in his mouth, making him cough four times after. He looked at his stomach again; thanks to his grandmother the wound was patched up. She then gathered her things and helped him on his feet. He hugged her right then and there, expressing how much he missed her.
"I don't blame ya. I basically threw you out when I needed ya most. Betthany did all she could until the end. I've been blaming myself for my mistake ever since."
"I left even when she said I could come home. You don't owe me anything." Damien replied pulling away.
"Let's work our way out of this hell hole. I've been lost here for hours; it looks like Raccoon City before it got shot into oblivion. It's like an infinite nightmare in this place."
Both made their way out of the alley and onto the dead ridden streets. There were exploded cars, blood, and debris everywhere. Even the zombies that were put down left a lingering odor. Along the way, Damien came across a gun left on an army man that was left hanging off his jeep with his entrails eaten out of him. Holding his nostrils closed, he ejected the mag and saw no bullets inside. His grandmother, Agatha, checked a couple of dead bodies herself for firearms; all the clips were gone with only her rainforest designed cane to defend herself. Suddenly she found a pocket knife with a blade big enough to stab any zombie heads coming her way.
"Take this." She said tossing the pocket knife to Damien. "Blade's sharp, I checked it myself."
"When did you become an expert on weapons?" He asked.
"This is one nasty city, my boy. I may be old but I'm a quick learner."
"What're you going to use?"
"I have this." She said holding up her cane.
He remembered her rainforest cane like the back of his hand. How could he not since that's where she used it whenever he touched something that didn't belong to him. It kept her home safer than any guard dog would; her father made it when he traveled to the Amazon Rainforest when she was just a girl. It got him out of tough situations with the less civilized types, and it was passed down to her as a sacred heirloom. She told Damien she held onto it until she went to sleep for the last time. As to what they were experiencing at this point, she said she was pulled into the city by means beyond her comprehension.
However, it was not only her that arrived, but anyone associated with them was in the city. Before finding him in the alley, she came across some of her bright, college Art students getting eaten alive by zombies, or something called the "T-Virus" from what she heard. She also saw Betthany which was odd to Damien because she was still alive after nine years. After five or six blocks of dodging undead and scavenging for anything useful they reached a dead end; a crater to be specific. According to Agatha, the crater looked to be destroyed by rocket fire, but there were no RPG's anywhere.
They couldn't backtrack to other parts of the city; too much debris and zombies roaming about. They treaded softly through the dirt of the crater, remaining vigilant of their surroundings. Four zombies rose up with dirt covering their backs; Damien helped his grandmother across the other side faster. She climbed up and when the zombies slowly closed in on him, his whole view changed. It was like he was viewing himself from a bird's eye view. His moves felt constricted as if someone else was controlling him.
Agatha highly suggested to, and he wasn't that delirious to hear otherwise, press the select button and go into his inventory to access a knife. Suddenly the environment froze and the inventory came up in front of his eyes. On the left side had a picture of his face, how much life he had left before flat lining. On the right side had the pocket knife and two green herbs. They were the same ones he recognized back in Norway. By some magical coincidence, he selected the knife and went back to the crater.
Right then he was put in an uncomfortable stance. His left arm moved one way which damaged one of the zombies with his knife. Three other zombies crept up on him so he moved away from them, and ran to the one he stabbed and did it four more times. The zombie went down and he performed the same motion for the other three. Agatha fared well by using her cane only and managed to bust two zombie heads wide open. The horde started walking out of the shadows; she then went to the edge of the crater to help Damien up.
They took a side street to avoid the horde altogether. Someone who has never dealt with zombies before his grandmother had a knack of knocking some sense into them. Being six feet under hasn't made her soft, and he loved her because of it. In fact, the more time he spent walking in the undead infested city, it started growing on him. At one point he showed cause for concern, knowing full well what he did to Mark in the alleyway. Maybe it was a test from the White Queen; he could still feel her touch on his ear lobe. As they reached the next intersecting street, they came across a half destroyed police building that said "R.P.D." on it.
"The Raccoon City Police Department." Agatha said.
"They must've been overrun. Jesus, what a way to go." He said holding his nose at the sight of rotting officers.
"Let's split up. We shouldn't screw around here long; the horde might come back this way. Most likely, there should be a PA system in the Chief's office. But don't use it unless the area is empty."
"I'm not leaving you by yourself." Damien said worrying.
"You want to go back to Sherry? Do you want to rest after a decade of those wounds of yours? Then stop bullshitting around and look for supplies." She said walking ahead of him.
"She hasn't lost her spirit."
The scenery went still before turning pitch black. Only thing that came into view were the doors to the department, opening up slowly before being pulled inside. Scenery went back to a wide view of Damien and Agatha; lights were flickering everywhere and whatever happened to the building's foundation it did a number in blocking different paths. They were in the main lobby of the precinct. She went to where the holding cells were to look for any more herbs or keys to locked doors.
Damien saw a dead cop with its head blown off at the front desk; he had his knife ready and went to investigate. He saw the cop's gun on the desk and checked the mag for any bullets; there were only three left. He caught a break and put the gun in his inventory. In some ways he was still freaked out how he was carrying items and why he wasn't able to see from his point of view. The computer in front of him was still operational. It opened up to a group of twelve security cameras, all that went offline to what seemed to be awhile.
He looked on there a bit to see if any recorded footage was kept. One camera had the precinct going about its day around two in the afternoon. Another had a cop causing a scene in the briefing room; so far the camera feeds had no sound to understand what was going on. Suddenly he saw a live feed with green infrared; two people covered in white light and other objects along the walls that were shapes of animal heads. Damien thought the cameras were useless until he saw something rather odd about the infrared one.
The male shaped individual looked like he was carrying the second person as if she was a ragdoll. He took her and placed her on the desk; he was having his way with her from the look of things. He didn't know what was going on exactly, but before he made his assumption the infrared shut off and the light in the male stranger's office turned on. By the look of his attire, he was the chief of the precinct. As for the woman lying down on his desk, she was bleeding from her abdomen.
The chief he assumed was zipping up his pants and sat in his desk, staring intimately at his dead corpse. Damien nodded his head at the fact at how sick he was to be having sex with a dead woman. He heard a scream coming from the upper levels; he looked up and made his way to the stairs. The corridors were all grey, appropriate to the dreadful vibe he was getting so far. Across from where he was standing he got a quick glance at a little girl running; it was a slim lead in finding out what was going down. He followed to where she was going.
Agatha found herself walking towards a locker room. The door leading inside the girls' side opened slightly and she had her cane at the ready for anything to jump out at her. Her footsteps left echoing noises as she got closer. The door then opened the rest of the way in a violent manner, and a mutated Doberman stepped out. It had blood and his rib cage was exposed. It ran to her as she tried to bash the cane against the dog; normally she wouldn't have anything against animals but she was willing to make an exception in this instance. It knocked her down as it jumped over her head and positioned itself for attack. The Doberman pounced right on top of her blouse with her cane based inside its foamy mouth.
She struggled before kicking the mutated dog away from her. She then got up and limped towards the locker room. With the door slamming behind her the Doberman wasn't able to get his doggy treat with a side of kicking and screaming. Strange enough, the scenery went black and the locker room door slowly opened as Agatha was pulled in. The lock on the door was broken so she got one of the trash bins to barricade it; luckily the bins were heavy. In the girl's locker room, it reeked of sweat among other things she couldn't comprehend. Behind one of the bathroom stalls she found a health spray can. When she got to the lockers, one of them contained a picture of a handsome young man and his girlfriend.
"If I was twenty years younger, I'd make this gorgeous man clean my pool everyday…if I had one. Girl's not too bad looking either." she said before looking at the back of the photo. "To: Leon, love Cassie."
A haunting melody of piano music played in the background as she was looking in other lockers for resources. She found a written journal that spoke of the Chief of the RPD as well as getting some time off from Raccoon City to be with her family. On top of one of the lockers had an old typewriter with a loose piece of paper sticking out; she used the cane to pull it forward as she stood on the bench to grab it. Coming down, she made a personal complaint in how her back wasn't as flexible as it used to be. She then put the typewriter next to her as she sat down and read the journal.
"September 16th, 1998: I'm so glad I'll be getting some time off soon from this job. God, some R&R with my sisters in Aruba is just what I need! It's not that I have anything against this job; it's just that nothing ever really happens here. To think the name "Raccoon City" would be something amazing and unpredictable. There were over eight homicides over the course of the summer months. My stomach still feels uneasy about the July 4th suicide. Decent business man too; he helped people with their taxes. I'm going to have to cut this entry short. My partner is howling at me to get my ass in gear."
"September 21st, 1998: Can this day get any slower?! My phone has been ringing off the hook by my sisters. Jolie and Maggie mean well, but my god are they impatient. I get it my lovelies! Plane to exotic place=cute foreign guys for me to keep away from you ha ha. That Chief Irons…sometimes I think his "hobbies" are getting a little extreme. I've seen him singing to his stuffed moose in another language; Italian I think. I'm Italian. If my father ever heard those words, a sledgehammer would be the least of the Chief's worries. He always did have a deluded, perverted mind when it came to self-entitlement. Just because he eyes other female cops up and down they don't have a right to feel squeamish? Maybe it's time to transfer to another precinct."
"September 23rd, 1998: Today's the big day! Jolie and Maggie are practically exploding with excitement right now. We've already had our beach house picked out with every wine cooler known to man. Even more good news, I've been on the beat non-stop for the past thirteen months. My partner Randall said there was talk about new changes to the world by the Umbrella Corporation. "About damn time." I told him. I can't wait anymore; I got one last drive through before my last shift is over for a while."
Previous entries from the journal owner named Carrie had nothing relevant to what was going on at the present time. When she closed the journal a piece of paper fell out; a discouraging note from Randall. It didn't seem comforting with the nervous words he injected onto the paper.
"Carrie! First off don't worry. I didn't read your journal, but since this is your only form of expression apart from dragging me along I feel I should tell you that Irons is out of control. For the first time, I don't blame him. When are you coming back?! I tried Aruba but I can barely speak the language. It's been over a month and a half since you left. Listen, as your partner, if you ever decide to come back, collect your things here, go to your home and pack a bag. I don't know what's happening yet. There have been rumors about something called the T-Virus and it broke out in one part of the city. People have been panicking, and if Umbrella doesn't contain it we are in some serious shit. Oh no…no way…."
The note cut off from there. Agatha's guess that one part of the infected city before it spread was where she was. She got jitters just thinking about what was going on outside; yet she couldn't figure out why she was brought to Raccoon City in the first place. All she knew was that Damien was alive. Before she left, she typed on the typewriter about her progress leading up to the locker room. It was only a few short sentences to get the point across.
Somehow she felt the world was going to remember her progress. She grabbed her cane and a glass breaking was heard. She pressed up against a row of lockers in front of her and shimmied her way to the left. Four Dobermans were walking around the shards, sniffing out for their food. She saw the door she came in and snuck past them to make a hasty retreat. Three steps away from the locker she extended her arm to reach the handle until she looked to her left; a doberman was staring right at her like she was his first kill of the day. She froze for a sec, but then the other Dobermans gathered around.
"Damien, protect yourself." She said to herself before swiftly turning to face the lockers.
She acted fast and got inside one of the lockers. The Dobermans pressed up against them as a group, barking and clawing their way in. Suddenly, the door to the locker room got kicked open and Agatha heard someone whistle to lure the dogs away. Four shot gun shots later, she used the cane to break her locker open and fell on her knees. When she looked up, a younger woman with red hair tied in a ponytail and an attitude came to her rescue.
"Ma'am, she asked Agatha as she helped her up, are you alright?"
Chasing a screaming little girl wasn't high on Damien's list. He was running short on breath. She sure was fast which was useful in a nightmare such as the one they were in. For a Police Department, it felt more like a huge museum with all its corridors and statues resembling Greek Gods. It must've been quite a place to work in he thought; the history of the precinct was not lost in the slightest with him. Eventually, he found himself in a place where there was a bronze statue, a silver statue, and a monument of a certain god with a description telling of the Red Jewel. In the center presented the God of the sun and moon playing significant roles in raising the jewel to its fullest potential. Judging from what he saw, it used to be a puzzle, but it was solved already by someone else.
He then continued on through a door which began the same routine as the others. Gunshots were heard and before he knew it he found himself in a zombie shooting gallery with a surviving cop. As the cop was reloading another zombie got too close; Damien shot the last one. His head felt it was hit like a drum; the vibrations surrounding the contents of his brain were teeth shaking.
"I am near…Damien. I have to say I was extremely pleased with the way you asserted yourself to Mark. See, that is the man my blood has molded you into. Meet me in the Chief's office, you and your cop friend. It will all be over soon…"
Venezia's voice faded away with a new voice speaking in a reassuring tone. The rookie cop went over to see if he was alright.
"Don't mind me." Damien said collecting himself. "The acoustics in this room are louder than I thought."
"What are you doing in the Precinct?" The cop asked.
"My grandmother and I came here looking for supplies. It's a nightmare out there. To be honest, I don't know how I got here; name's Damien Walsh."
"Leon Kennedy. A friend and I came here for the same thing. You wouldn't know a Chief Irons right? He's built like a house, thick moustache, steely eyed?"
"By reputation unfortunately. Did you see a little girl running through here? She has short, blonde hair, around knee height."
"Shit." Leon said.
"What?"
"She must be Dr. William Birkin's daughter."
"Birkin?!" Damien asked.
His prediction was right. When he was slumming in the alleyway, he heard the name "Sherry" and it must've been the little girl he was chasing. Damien asked Leon what year were they in because he only met the grown up Sherry in the year 2014. Leon replied they were in September 28, 1998; the longest year of Raccoon City's existence. He explained that he was running all over the city with a girl named Claire Redfield to find the cause of the T-Virus outbreak.
Damien didn't understand what he was talking about. He only heard of the incident once when his grandmother told him. Leon offered to help him out if he agreed to find Chief Irons and get some answers on what has been doing. He was an influential Police Chief who did many things for the city like he was a national war hero. He agreed to an extent and asked if he had any more ammo to spare.
Agatha and her well-armed accomplice walked out of the locker room after the coast was clear. There was a lot of commotion happening outside the station, but nothing jumped out at them so far. She thanked the red head for saving her life and asked for her name; it was none other than Claire Redfield herself. She had a biker chick theme going on and armed to the teeth with a shotgun. Claire contacted someone on her walky-talkie and a male voice she referred to as Leon spoke through.
"Leon, I found a survivor. Her name is..." Claire asked before being told Agatha's name, Agatha. She was hiding in the girl's locker room when four Dobermans decided to come looking for a midnight snack. "
"Maybe we'll actually get someone out alive tonight. There's a young man with me who said he was looking for his grandmother; a Damien Walsh."
"That's him." Agatha pointed out. "I knew he'd be alive. Honey, where are you and Leon?"
"I'm helping him get to Chief Irons' office. Hopefully he'll have an explanation for this outbreak."
"Let's meet up there then. Be careful you two." Claire said.
The conversation ended with common goals met, and were about to be followed through. Claire reloaded her shotgun while offering Agatha her hand gun. She told Claire she didn't need it, that her cane would do all the ass kicking for her if need be. Claire insisted a gun would do wonders in taking out infectees at a far distance. Agatha then made a snarky comment, saying she may be old but not blind. She was already determined to offer the cane spankings while the shooting will go to those who didn't fall in line. She led on with Claire following behind her, quietly chuckling at her ballsy attitude.
In a room where a man spends his days making phone calls, yelling at incompetent cops, and lounging at the animal heads hanging on his wall, he didn't have much of a social life other than being held in high regard as the Chief of police. He was also a man of dark, twisted secrets. Cops who have felt the weird vibes from him had no idea what his deal was. The fair few who have were either fired, or were made into a different kind of trophy altogether. Some say karma is the biggest beast of all; it bites you in the most uncomfortable places, even rip you apart limb by limb, and when karma showed up at the curious Chief's office door, it was more than he could chew. With a handkerchief stuffed in his mouth and chained to his own desk, Venezia sat in Irons' chair, relishing the loss of his arms as they were hung on opposite sides of the room. Fear swelled up inside of him, more so than the horrors that were taking place on the outside. She smiled while cleaning her hands with a couple of paper towels.
"You know, when I first entered this office you were dumbfounded. What was it you said? That I was an angel descending from the heavens to make love to your half century carcass? Okay, maybe that last part I made up. But come on, I don't like it when men pretend to play rough. It makes me, she said as she ripped his vest and shirt open, bored. I guess I should thank you for giving me the one night stand; my lady parts have been screaming for one for god knows how long. Now I'm going to ask you something; how you respond will determine where the rest of you go. Did it arouse you when you killed the Mayor's daughter and stuffed her body? Does it drive you mad that your paranoia has caused all your men and women in blue to run away? I bet the Umbrella Corporation has forgotten you by now."
Irons didn't take kindly when she brought up Umbrella, but his anger was brought down a few notches when Venezia brought up a certain female cop who was one of the brightest.
"Carrie Jensen rang any bells, Chief; a cop with seventeen years of experience finally getting a break from this god forsaken city? She was thrilled to visit her younger sisters in Aruba, until a moustache Neanderthal secretly cancelled her flight and medicated her from behind; only 24 years old. Such a unique age wouldn't you say? She didn't even fight back. How about, she said spreading his legs and chaining them, we reenact the taxidermy show you performed on her?"
Carrie was violated after being medicated leaving the locker room. Next to the Mayor's daughter he shot and stuffed, he made trophies out of them, and were kept as statues in his office. That was, until Venezia offered one last kindness to the two women by bringing them back to life to witness the slow and painful torture of their monster. They appeared next to her as she was about to perform her next dismemberment. His glass shattering scream was heard all over the department.
While making progress through the station, Damien and Leon heard a faint scream. Suddenly, zombies busted out of the woodwork somewhere; a low haunting hum crept from the corner and lined up for headshots. With Damien reloading his gun, he popped off three heads while Leon shot two and contacted Claire. She and Agatha were already aware of the noise and had a hunch it came from the Chief's office. They were closer to hearing the screams and told Leon they were going to go on ahead and see what was up.
"So, how long you been a cop?" Damien asked.
"This is my first day." Leon said as he shot a zombie. "It seemed like a lifetime ago though. This nightmare seems to keep going on forever. Maybe it's what people want."
"Who would want to live in the same nightmare for a lifetime?" He asked as she shot a zombie in the leg, pulled out his knife and stabbed him in the head.
"You would be surprised." Leon said to himself.
The office that once belonged to a sick man of the law turned into a twisted canvass of his entrails hung around with mutated versions of his stuffed animal trophies. Souls of his two recent victims felt a sense of gratitude to Venezia's delivered justice. She granted them safe passage back to their proper resting place with unhindered consciences. The door to the office was opened slowly; Claire and Agatha walked in and couldn't believe what they were seeing. She nearly puked from death staring her in the face while Claire put a handkerchief to her nose.. Blood and human entrails were everywhere; a morbid version of a painted mural. Claire made it abundantly clear they weren't going to stay long, but should keep both eyes open so they could avoid whatever caused the new office renovation.
There were two arms, two mangled legs hung on the ceiling, a rib cage, an intestine outfitting a deer and bear trophy, but of all the body parts just hanging there, Agatha became curious about where the head was. Claire found something covered in blood on his desk. It was Chief Irons' badge. Leon and Damien came in with a disturbing image placed before them. Agatha became filled with joy as she hugged her only grandson.
"You understand what I tried to teach you when I was alive?" Agatha asked. "Three times was the total amount I tossed you out of the house as a punishment. I wanted you to see how ugly the world has become; viruses and corrupted corporations putting people up shit's creek, only to find ourselves in this tasteful imagery. Oh, my mind's talking off the hinges. This is Claire Redfield." She said introducing Damien. "She got me out of a scramble."
"Good to see someone not feeding on flesh." Claire said while shaking Damien's hand.
"Grandma, this is Leon Kennedy. He's a damn good shot against those zombies."
"Glad you're safe, ma'am." Leon said shaking her hand.
"You are the most beautiful man I have ever seen." Agatha replied with a straight face and a sense of longing in her eyes.
Leon was flattered by her comment. Suddenly, Claire looked behind the Chief's desk and saw his head glued upside down under it. She screamed for a quick second and thrust her back against the wall. Agatha asked if she was okay; Leon went over behind the desk and saw the head as well. Damien then heard a faint voice calling his name; he slowly turned around knowing full well who it was. Venezia elevated steadily outside a huge window in front of them.
He didn't notice a window being there before. She extended her hand and the glass shattered into a thousand shards, flying towards all four standing as the shards turned to sand. Venezia flew in as two helicopters went over them to the red zone of the city. Damien lowered his right arm covering his eyes; Claire and Leon aimed their guns at her as she instantly looked at them with blinding white eyes. They jumped out to different corners as she incinerated the Chief's plaques and his animal trophies.
"Who the hell is that?! Umbrella's gone off the deep end sending her here." Claire said.
"As if we don't have the undead to worry about." Leon replied as he composed himself.
"She's the White Queen ain't she?" Agatha asked Damien with a tone of surprise.
"Highly perceptive Elder Walsh." Venezia acknowledged. "This office is at last perfect. Too bad it's sitting ugly at the end of its existence. I could've been an interior decorator."
"What happened to Irons?" Leon wanted to know.
"A fate worse than death as it turns out, and rightfully so I might add."
"This isn't you, Venezia." Damien said.
"I'll deal with you in a moment. Now, has anyone seen a little girl wearing a schoolgirl outfit with short, blonde hair? Word is she's the daughter of two selfish scientists." She asked looking at each of the four standing. "How about you cranberries; I take it you two were very close?"
Venezia toyed with Claire for a bit. Claire punched her in the face and made a bold threat if she laid one finger on Sherry. That was when Damien knew he heard right from the alleyway and chasing the little girl around the precinct; she was only a kid when Raccoon City was engulfed by the undead. Venezia gave an evil chuckle and back handed Claire, sending her flying over the singed part of the office. Damien implored her to stop, but Claire didn't want him interfering. When she got up with a bruised shoulder and soot covering her from head to toe, she was in the mood to teach her a thing or two about messing with a tough chick.
Venezia on the other hand called her out on this, saying she didn't have what it took to kill something like her. Just when Claire was about to make the first move, one quick second Damien sensed Venezia's nails turning to claws. He acted quickly by grabbing her arm with the extended nails, sparing Claire an untimely fate. It was bizarre in his mind; one minute he was by Agatha's side and the next he suddenly had the strength to raise his hand to the one witch who refused to let him be. She raised her right hand but he restrained that as well; Claire demanded to know where Sherry was. Damien gave her the luxury by allowing five more punches until a huge chunk of Venezia's face broke off. The bone structure looked replaced with rock along with white lines flowing.
"Dear lord." Agatha said to herself.
"Claire, get away from her!" Leon shouted.
"Last chance, Venezia." Damien said as he violently pulled her head backwards. "Where the hell is Sherry?"
"Fine, she's in an underground sewer that leads to the railway lines of a train station. I was going to use her as leverage against you." She said looking at Damien. "Be hasty, there are creatures down there; Hunters."
Claire told Leon they had to go and rescue her before she was eaten alive. She told Agatha good luck as well as Damien and bolted out of the office. Agatha transitioned from shock to astounded, but at the same time scared at the strength he was demonstrating. That was when Venezia broke away from her two arms by literally standing up and separating herself from her limbs. Damien tossed her arms out the window and she faced him.
He told his grandmother to get out of the department. She refused and wanted to help in any way possible. It was a mistake she said; in his mind he hasn't had the luxury in making a lot of good decisions. He relied heavily on heart medication which the irony was not lost on his grandmother, cut his ties off to the rest of the world after Norway, and he was sure what he did to Mark would be the cause of his death. He didn't exactly jump to that conclusion though. When he sent his arm through Mark's stomach out of anger, he was laughing maniacally and zoomed out of the alleyway like it was nothing.
It was funny to him. After spending almost a week in a temple, encountering things that would only be believed in spook stories, he could still be surprised. Venezia grew out her arms and Agatha nearly fell on her ass because of it, soon realizing the queen was just another B.O.W. that needed to be taken down. But Damien was still adamant about her helping out; instead she told him to give her hell however he could. Before she left he had one last thing to say to her.
"See you on the other side." He smiled at her.
"Here's hoping there smells less like mutilated flesh. Kick her ass, boy." She said before leaving the demented office.
"How touching." Venezia said before she swiftly impaled him. "You overstep, Damien. It seems I have been too lenient on your condition. I'll just have to fix that."
Damien looked up at her with blazing blue eyes. He was starting to lose sight of his human life, and suddenly he pushed her full force toward the burning wall.
"You underestimate." He said while his chest wound closed up. "I'm scraping you out of my head one way or another. If that means accepting the gift of immortality, I'm all for it."
"You forget." She said while standing up. "You've already killed me long ago."
She swiftly jumped at him and he grabbed her neck while thrusting her entire body on the gut ridden floor. Venezia reacted by kicking him violently and side punched him following a sharp back hand. She then kicked him once more against that same burning office wall. Blood and entrails fell on top of him. He stood up and she wanted to see what he had learned through her influence over the years. Without thinking, he picked up a thick piece of burning plywood, held it firmly in his hand. As he ran to her, he dropped the plywood on purpose and grabbed both her arms again with its sharp nails out like mini blades.
Each blade tip pressed inch by inch reaching his face, with one leaving a thin incision on his left cheek. Venezia felt disappointed from his efforts fighting her on such sloppy standards. Her guess he was still holding on to whatever thread of humanity he had left. Damien then landed a head butt on her, pushing with overwhelming force with one hand. She flew out of the window overlooking the city, ended up sending her nails into the foundation of the building. She wasn't ready to go just yet. Damien stood up just barely as he felt the cold, burning sensation throughout his body. However, he welcomed the feeling as a form of comfort and strength at the same time. He went over to the edge with confidence pacing in his steps through the slippery remains.
"That's the Damien I've been wanting to see." She said as he walked towards her. "Your evolution period is taking shape. After tonight, any ties you have to your human life will be severed. Together, we will finally put a stop to the Wesker Legacy once and for all."
He suddenly stopped after he heard the name "Wesker." It was a name he had not heard since Norway; its secrets lied within a trophy room Carlos Oliveira showed him and his group. Brought back to the nightmarish reality, he kneeled down to see Venezia's satisfied expression; his entire persona changed. His skin was peeling off, revealing solid black rock as bone structure with vibrant blue eyes and blue lines running all over his body. Normally he would be freaking out over something like this, yet he looked well composed with his new lease on life taking hold.
"Beautiful." She spoke in awe. "I am so proud of you. All you had to do was accept the gift completely."
"This isn't you, Venezia." Damien said.
"It has always been me. He made me what I was. Take my hand." She extended her hand. "Pull me up."
He extended his left hand to help her back into the office. He then looked at his right, and covered in entrails was a pill bottle; it lit up with white pills inside. In fact, they nearly resembled the heart medication he has been taking to keep the chest burns at bay. He picked up the bottle, and had two choices to make: help Venezia or take the pills. A plot seemed to be thickening; maybe he wasn't dying after all he thought. But he had to act fast; time was short. He opened the bottle and placed two pills in his hand; Venezia went crazy and kept demanding him not to take them.
"I remember now. You're really not the same person Cara and I chased after in the temple. You helped us. Carlos did the best he could to keep you safe when your father was held hostage by Alex."
"Shut up! You don't speak of my father. You have no idea what I had to go through to get his body out of the temple; how I had to bury him in my soul!"
"You don't scare me anymore. Whenever I tell my story you beg for me to stop. I wish I can stop; I wish I would've gone back home to see my grandmother's final days. I can't live with this anymore."
Almost immediately, he threw the two pills into his mouth and closed his eyes as Venezia screamed falling to her death. White light covered the entire neighborhood where the Precinct was. As the pills worked their effectiveness, the scars on his chest stopped burning. His eyesight was slowly returning to normal for the time being. He then felt his shoulder being touched, but instead of acting startled he recognized his grandmother's touch of praise as she stood next to him.
"I thought you were gone." He said being helped on his feet.
"You kidding me? I never miss my boy giving that witch what-for." She replied with sincerity. "You made the right choice, son. The White Queen is imprisoned in god knows where. Looks like the missile's going to hit us soon; we should leave."
"Why were we even brought here?"
"I've watched over you, Damien. For nine years you've tried to disregard Norway as a nightmare. Raccoon City was a dark, tainted moment in U.S history. Those who survived it sixteen years ago still haunts them to this day, but like all things that change us in this life, we have to accept it and move on through. Forgetting what changed you should never disappear, no matter how bad it was. This place was to teach you that. After all, a teenager survived a haunted temple; my teenager."
"Do I really have to go?" He said looking at her.
"Yes. I can't stop you in what you do after you tell your story. Whatever you decide, I'll support it."
A portal-shaped hole opened; where it was going he had no idea. His grandmother told him he would have to jump through it to see the other side. He hugged her one last time and was told "good luck son." It hit him harder every time she said that; she was the only parental figure in his life that really cared for him. He stood on the edge, held his breath, and leaped off until he fell straight into the portal.
Next thing he knew, he was in a narcotic haze. The environment was blurry, slowly creeping back into reality with severe light-headedness. He also felt a casted arm with third degree burns. Sherry and the doctor came into view; he saw them clear as day. She welcomed him back and he asked where they were. Doctor Townsend acknowledged the fact they were in a hospital funded by TerraSave, under observation after the procedure done on his arm and chest. His earlier suspicion was right, an ongoing factor for him so far. The arm he sent through Mark had third degree burns but when it first happened it felt like acid with his skin peeling off in front of him.
His arm was skin graphed when he was under. Doctor Townsend also explained the status of his current situation; he said the tests kept coming up as inconclusive. Damien's patient history on the chest scars confirmed an animal attacked him in Norway, and miraculously survived. There were three blood transfusions that flushed out the toxins, but they kept rushing back. It was something he had never seen before with a patient. However, in a world where a virus can break out anywhere, he was going to take his condition with a grain of salt. A nurse entered the room and asked for assistance with another patient; he told both him and Sherry he would return.
"Give it to me straight." Damien said quietly. "Do I look horrible?"
"I'm not going to lie. You look like shit." She said straight out.
"Least ya didn't lie." He chuckled. "How are you holding up?"
"My Supervisor has put out a high priority target on Mark Omahan. What he did, we can't take any chances."
"I know. The world is still fragile after the C-Virus outbreak." He said feeling his throat. "Sherry, can you get me some water?"
She took a cup and went over to the fountain outside his room and filled it up with water. A huge sense of relief filled his throat; he was able to talk properly again.
"How long was I out?"
"Forty-eight hours. Your arm suffered the most of it." She said as he took a gander at his cast. "I got a checkup myself. I still wasn't feeling too hot."
"I think your phone's going off."
Before Sherry was about to spill the beans on what's been really going on with her, a nurse walked in and told him he had a visitor. A passing thought flew by thinking it may have been his friend he spoke over the payphone, giving him the disturbing news. However, it turned out to be someone he hardly recognized; his father. He had an upstanding persona about him; clean shaven, grey hair; no older than late fifties. His name was Richard Walsh Graves. He remarried a couple years after both he and Damien's mother, Claudette walked out on him when he was five.
Damien took one look at him and then turned his attention to the wall in front of him. The nurse informed both Richard and Sherry about visiting hours ending in twenty minutes and walked out of the room soon after. Sherry introduced her-self and walked out for a bit to give them some privacy. Her phone was still buzzing in her pants pocket. When she took it out it was Claire getting ahold of her again.
"Hey." Sherry said.
"I got your voicemail. Is everything alright?"
"About my condition. I've been thinking if there is a way...I'm trying to find the right words here. I want to keep my healing ability."
"Sherry, that's not possible. The only reason you've had that ability in the first place was because of the G-virus parasite your father planted in you."
"Don't remind me. Maybe there is another angle we can go about it, a harmless one."
"Listen to me, it's too dangerous. You were lucky the G-virus didn't cause you to mutate the first time. After what happened on that airship crash in Edonia...I'll see to it you're never put on another one of those things."
"Claire, what if Alex Wesker is still alive? What if the Family is still at large? I'm going to need any edge I can get to keep up with Jake. We kicked ass together. I don't want to lose that."
Claire sighed on the other line, thinking over what to do next. Sherry did have a point though. The world was put in a state where anything unknown can outmatch it. She assured her she was going to keep looking for alternatives in getting Sherry's healing ability back.
"I'll keep searching around. Damn, how did you grow up so fast?"
"Someone taught me well. A certain someone who refuses to let me ride their Harley."
Back in the patient room, an awkward silence filled its plain void. Richard sat by his bedside as Damien stared at the wall with an emotionless feel having an effect on his father.
"I know you must have a lot of questions for me." Richard said with silence following after. "Maybe you don't. Your mother…your real mother, couldn't be here because her daughter has bronchitis. I tried convincing her to have her sister babysit. She was really looking forward to seeing you. Son, when we left…there was no excuse for what we did. I was childish, I was selfish, but a year after your birth you became something I didn't want to fail. I-I really don't know how to explain it."
"You were afraid." Damien spoke finally. "At least grandma took care of me, and that's all that matters."
"How is she?"
"Dead." Damien said coldly.
"Damn. I don't know where to begin, son. It's…you-you're a grown man now; it's a miracle. Grandma's love sure rubbed off on you right. I can see that. Your doctor didn't tell me much; just that your arm suffered third degree burns and should heal in a couple weeks. Look, I'm a terrible parent. I kick myself in the ass every day after saying that." He continued saying before getting frustrated by his silence. "Damien, speak! Say something!"
Damien turned away from staring out into space, and looked at his father in the eyes for the very last time. He told him to get out of his room and never come back, but his father wouldn't have it and tried explaining himself again. That was when Damien got in his face, assuring him he didn't need his so-called family in his life.
"I'm going to pretend I never saw you so I can resist the urge to rip your fucking intestines out and strangle you with them."
"Do you think I wanted to leave you?! It just happened!" Richard shouted. "I didn't know what to think; I was scared..."
"Cut the crap alright?! You didn't know; you weren't there. But grandma never turned away from me. She was there every day for me. She and I have been through more together than you could possibly fathom, and by god if it kills me, you don't get out of my room I'll beat you down to a pulp and toss your ass out that window!" He pointed at. "You hear me?!"
"Fine." He said exhaling. "It was not my place to barge in. I'll just uh…I'll just go."
Without saying farewell, his father walked out of the room with his head down and both hands in his pockets. Sherry came back in and asked if everything was alright. Damien wanted to leave the father-son bonding moment under the mattress in a manner of speaking. Sherry then told him something she forgot to mention since they first met. Since the global clean-up of C-virus remnants, the Center for Disease Control have been working closely with legal Pharmaceutical companies to locate viral activity so the BSAA can neutralize the potential threats. The CDC has been all over the world in the last sixteen months, helping to detect the activity, until recently forty-eight hours prior they detected a viral spike in Washington. It was out of the blue, but what was strange was the spikes came from two infectees who had no exposure to the C-Virus.
Sherry had one theory. It was the time Damien went mad and sent his arm through Mark's chest. It must've triggered the detection she thought. CDC sent out stealth, viral detecting drones into the air and flew around the fifty states for accurate placement. While she stepped out to have Damien talk to his father she got a call from Adrien, telling her the identifications behind the viral spikes, hence the reason for the high priority target he sent out to Mark to apprehend him. He would have sent one out for Damien too if he and his research partner, Agent Brewster confirmed Damien was telling the truth after listening in on the story he was giving on the audio recorder.
Most of the facts rang true. It turned out President Graham back in 2005 wanted to keep the Norway mission under wraps. The reason was under the assurance that the Valhallan Elixir was closed off in the temple along with the demons that dwelled inside of it. Although Adrien tried his best to convince the CDC to keep tabs on Mark, Damien was the second anomaly and he was to be captured and experimented on. He wanted to know what would happen if he was captured; Sherry told him the same thing that happened to her when she was younger. She ended that vague response by telling him he wasn't the only one with inner demons inside of him. Her phone suddenly went off; Adrien was trying to get in touch with her again. She closed the hospital room door so no one would listen in and asked her to put him on speaker phone so Damien can listen as well.
"We're both here, sir." Sherry said putting her phone on the table.
"Good. Mr. Walsh, you are well aware the Center for Disease Control has pinpointed two viral anomalies. I've done my best to keep their focus on Agent Mark Omahan, but the viral spikes came from a blood type that is unknown to the rest of the world. It may even be more unique than the C-Virus. We have reason to believe Mark is associated with a secret fraternity known as The Family."
"The Family, she asked, Simmons' parents were the original founders of that society, yes?"
"Kith and Kin were the founders along with five other members who police the vital lifelines of this planet. Their inner circle is always changing with fresh faces with old ways inscribed into their brains. They have been around for centuries."
"They didn't do a good job did they?" Damien said. "The world is still fragile I keep hearing."
"The members were around way before the Ashford family tree started growing roots. The elixir that was found in Norway was told by Kith and Kin. They were inspired by Norse Gods and the like. I won't bore you with the details but there have been other names for this elixir: Blood of 1,000,000 Conflicts, Valhallan Elixir which you both know, Nectar of the Fallen, or if you want to keep it traditional, we are dubbing the name as the "Immortality Virus."
"Wonderful." Sherry rolled her eyes. "Another virus to add to the freaking roster. To think B.O.W.s will remain undefeated no matter what. I thought we were done with this already."
"Sadly no; as long as some corrupt organization plans to make the world hurt these outbreaks will never stop. In our society, the Family is running the show. As for the Immortality Virus, Agent Brewster and I have managed to trace the viral spike back to its origins though not as far as the Norse mythos. It seems to be an evolved form of the Progenitor Virus made by Ozwell E. Spencer, but the old crock passed away four years ago."
"This fraternity must've gotten ahold of Spencer's research and perfected the virus themselves." Sherry said. "You think this third party attending the Banquet might have members overseeing the event?"
"Most likely. I guess that's the reason for the BSAA to have a military presence there. Vice President Keyes and Senator "Rothstein" will be there too. As for Mark, he's their human invitation, but the Family kicked him out of the fold."
She asked why he was kicked out. Adrien didn't know for certain. On one last piece of research he logged into Mark's personal database. There was a deleted email with the Family insignia on it; the only thing it said in the message was "You're out." It only meant one thing; a public execution that would cause the end of his life and those he hurts along the way. He would mutate and start hurting innocent people, but in Mark's case the only person he would be capable of hurting was himself. It turned out each member that was initiated into the fold was granted a small vial of the elixir.
One drop would make a nervous human being confident and ready for anything. Two would make the weakest man lift a car, but drink the entire vial would result in serious consequences. Originally, the Family members would keep the elixir locked away deep within their inner circle, and offer outside members the impression of feeing superior without actually drinking the elixir itself. However, things changed. Adrien searched further in the database and found a hidden report about the death of the seven members; all that spawned from upper class lifestyles and global conglomerates. The mystery behind their deaths wasn't confirmed, but each member's death had a very specific kill set.
There was only one mercenary who would be able to perform such a task; one theory was Hunk. His last contract mission was in Raccoon City sixteen years prior. After that, his record was wiped clean of any further mercenary activity. It was unconfirmed if he died there or not. He told Sherry he was going to trace Mark's phone and see where he was going, and said if Damien was fit for travel to take him back to the hotel. Before he hung up, Damien asked him one more thing.
"I would like to go to the airport." He requested wholeheartedly. "I want to go home."
"But Damien, we're not done here." Sherry said. "We need you."
"Your boss found out Mark's intentions and what might go down at this Banquet. You don't need me."
"We still have one puzzle piece left to find: the Wesker connection. Is Alex Wesker alive and what's his plan for using the virus?"
Suddenly, he got a flashback to the temple. He was being dragged by his arms with blood dripping off his forehead and was half dazed to see where he was. Another flashback showed a monstrous cocoon saying cryptic words he couldn't make out; another was seeing Terrell on the ground unconscious and Cara screaming at the top of her lungs when a flash of golden light was leaving her body. An image of Venezia was shown staring directly at him from a clear, oval shaped prison and trying to shatter it to break free. That delivered a severe kick back to his head and brought him back to the hospital room.
Adrien acknowledged once more to Sherry to take Damien back to the hotel, and tell the rest of his story. He hung up the phone with her telling Damien she was going to speak to his doctor about discharging him. He inhaled and exhaled to get wind back in his chest as he looked at the pill bottle for his chest burns. It said to take two pills every six hours, but for extra safety he told himself, he took one more pill to make sure his "inner demons" didn't break free for a chat.
Apart from having personal conflicts to deal with, another was dealing with the same thing. Only this time, he was having a hard time focusing getting things prepared for the Banquet on Saturday night. Mark sat in his one floor house, sitting in a corner while the room kept swirling around his distorted view. He sweated through his business shirt; his eyes were losing their bluish glow, and the stomach hole Damien gave him wasn't healing too well. He lost a lot of blood finding his way back home. The elixir he drank was sweating out of his system.
His body craved for more, and he thought it would be smart to call a contact within the Family to send him another dose. Mark then crawled over to his phone in the living room, and dialed a special female comrade who was very resourceful in putting on a straight face when hiding dirty secrets. It didn't help her when she stepped down as Madam President of Russia though.
"Svetlana." He said in a weak tone. "It's Mark. I need your h-help."
"This is not a secure line. Why are you calling me?"
"I need more…elixir. I…wouldn't be asking if you didn't have the means to do so."
"How much, Mark?"
"You know the answer to that. He most likely knows too."
"How could you; you know how potent this stuff is. The human body cannot sustain high concentrations."
"I-I know." He said wiping the sweat off his forehead and sees red in his hand. "I messed up. So what happens to me now?"
"Didn't you receive your email? Forget it; I would have to talk it over with the Head. Best option would be to detox the stuff out and wait for my call. I have to go."
A fever would be an understatement compared to what his body was going through. However, with his heart on fire and his eyes still seeping white tears on his cheeks, detox was going to be the hardest thing he has ever done. He wasn't much of an addict on the illegal stuff except for taking valium in curbing his insomnia. His cell phone fell out of his pocket; it had the email symbol on the left hand corner of the screen. He was too weak to reach it so he had no choice but to stay still until the detox was over.
As Damien and Sherry went back to the hotel, he kept arguing how he wasn't needed anymore and her hunch was correct. The more he argued with her, the more flashbacks to the temple he got. They felt more violent than when he was having nightmares about them. The more he tried to forget, the more they harmed his mental state. She told him she needed his full story so she can present the details to her superiors so she can make a move against the Family; that's when she slipped in mentioning the fraternity. Damien was quick to call her out on it and wanted to know what The Family was.
Despite some setbacks on both their accounts, they have been honest about their views of reality. With Sherry telling him there was no escape from the nightmares he experienced in Norway, and what she went through in Raccoon City to make sure she still drew breath in the present time. Then he brought up the fact she said he wasn't the only one with inner demons inside of him, and seemed enraged about the experimental treatment he was going to get if the CDC caught him. To an extent, she felt regret in pulling him away from his life to tell his story. She was basically strong arming him since the beginning. After the arguments they had in her car on the way back to the hotel, Sherry finally let him in on a few grievances to put his view in perspective.
"For the millionth time, you don't need me anymore!"
"When I was younger, I was having a hard time adapting to the G-virus my own father gave me. Over time, it did adapt to my DNA and gave me the ability to heal my wounds faster. The Government thought it would be fitting to keep me as their guinea pig as they performed all kinds of experiments on me. They wanted a vaccine you see? In their twisted way, they wanted an end to all viral outbreaks. I bonded with the G-Virus and it's been a part of me ever since...until recently."
"Wow, I didn't know the Government could be so heartless." Damien said. "Oh wait, they can. You throw your ass on the line without any hope of making it, and by some shred of hope you do make it out, you end up being told by the President himself he "appreciates" your services. You think it's easy controlling a demon embedded in three scars? At least you can control the virus inside of you. I have to take pills while under the influence of my demon."
"Is it the White Queen?" She asked. "From the character features you described I checked profile references and came across another woman under a different name. The point is, out of the two energy sources that kept the temple intact, the White Queen was the one who could manipulate and kill without a thought."
"So what was her real name?" He asked.
"For now, Wesker is all that remains of this story. We know he had ties to the temple, but they haven't been as expressive as his brother, Albert Wesker. You tell me what he has planned for this elixir he had, and my boss will fake your death so the CDC can focus on Mark. After that, you can rot away in your home or whatever."
Sherry seemed hostile in his eyes. Apart from having a direct line to his inner demon, he still retained his human ability to read people. She was angry more so about something else. Maybe her check up didn't end on good news he thought. He didn't have a car or a sense of direction in where the airport was. Not only that, his body started to look thin again after taking three pills of a stronger prescription. Damien sat by the desk next to his bed while Sherry grabbed the sofa stool on the other side. Her phone had a recording function up to three hours; she activated it and got started.
"I understand going home is top priority for you. All I'm asking is hang in there a bit more. Please."
"We stopped at the moment I met Carlos Oliveira right? He told Cara and I to go after the White Queen and find out what she knew about the elixir. Our group was still scattered at the time; Cara thought the worst. Both of us had to hoof it through a Church walk in or something, a path way where the Norse Architects went to reach the Citadel. But with the man holes teleporting us to different temple places we eventually became lost."
"Man holes, like the mystical portal you and Cara used to catch up with Carlos and Nicholai?"
"Indeed." He replied.
"Go on..."
28
