Resident Evil: Devils Crossroads
Chapter 3: Hostilities
Yes, yes I apologize for the lack of updates as of late but school has been a complete pain in my ass. Anyway, in regards to the fact that MGS took place in '05 I'm taking a small bit of liberty for the story's sake. Will school in session, updates will likely be all over the place but I'll do my best to have one up every two weeks or so. I hope you'll forgive me for that. Anyway hope you enjoy the new chapter.
Rebecca entered the separated backroom and found it to be exactly like the main room of the home; dirty, old and wholly uncomfortable. A rickety old staircase that she wouldn't trust to stand under the weight of a mouse stood propped up against the back wall and led to a rather pointlessly small upstairs. The room branched off to the left into a dead end and another filthy window.
She suddenly became very aware of a foul smell wafting from somewhere in the house; at first she'd just thought it was the decrepit building itself but now was having second thoughts. It stuck just like the Umbrella train, like the Spencer estate and she suddenly wanted Leon by her side as backup. However she quickly shoved those very "Rookie-like" wants out of her mind. After all she was twenty-four and by no means a rookie now. She was better trained and after facing down a mansion of reanimated corpses, what else was there?
How 'bout Freddy Krueger or Jason Voorhees? Hell, maybe if I'm lucky it'll only be Chucky. Again she shook those very much unnecessary thoughts from her brain and proceed down the small offshoot; hoping for perhaps some bullets or a nice, convenient shotgun. The smell got gradually worse and her stomach twisted in protest of her being so close to the noxious odor. She came upon a small indent in the wall that would have been perfect for a walk in closet and stopped in shocked disgust. A hand went to her mouth.
Jesus Christ!
A chest of drawers that should have been at an antique store stood before her, and it was piled high with skulls, human skulls. Flies buzzed about the macabre decoration and a few maggots busily cleaned the pale white bone. Rebecca quickly turned and shut her eyes tightly, attempting to remove the ghastly image from her mind.
SLAM
Rebecca nearly jumped out of her skin as the front door slammed open. Angry Spanish yells echoed into the house followed by running steps. A pair of thundering shots from Leon's Desert Eagle and suddenly he was in the doorway. He shot a glance at her and she shook her head at the unasked question.
"Damn!" Leon swore and fired twice more at what must have been a large group of enemies that Rebecca couldn't see. "Rebecca, get up the stairs and see if there is anything useful! I'll hold them off."
The ex-STARS member nodded her head and darted up the stairs. She shot a glance through the opening she and Leon had come through; five villagers, all holding weapons, were steadily marching their way. Mentally swearing, Rebecca reached the upstairs and let out a groan at seeing only another window and a small end-table. However the groan was cut short when she spied a box of rounds on the table. She grabbed it and examined the box; it wasn't for either of their guns but no point in leaving it here.
"Leon! There's nothing up here!" The brown haired woman shouted. Another pair of shots and the ex-cop was charging up the stairs, reloading as he ran. A villager appeared at the bottom of the stairs and Rebecca didn't hesitate this time. She fired and a red flower blossomed on the man's head sending him sprawling backward.
Leon glanced around the upstairs for a split second, his ice-blue eyes wide and unblinking, thanks to the adrenaline coursing through his veins. A loud yell in Spanish reminded them of the danger and Leon was forced to make a choice. He lifted his pistol and blew out the window. Rebecca covered her face on reflex to seeing broken glass flying around.
"Leon! What the heck are you doing?" The ex-STARS member demanded.
However when the male agent's hand wrapped around her arm Rebecca began to get the gist of what he was thinking. Her eyes widened and she shook her head. "Oh no; no, no, no."
Leon gave an apologetic shrug. "Afraid so, hold on." With that, he dove out the window, taking a screaming Rebecca with him. Their free fall lasted perhaps three seconds, and Rebecca screamed at the top of her lungs through every second of it. She'd always hated roller coasters and flying out of one of the cars was her worst nightmare before the Raccoon incident; this was sickeningly like her first childhood fear and she got the feeling this wouldn't be the last time fate through something from her nightmares at her today. Both landed in a roll on the cold, grassless ground.
Rebecca quickly tore her arm away from his and looked about ready to give him what for when Leon stood and slammed another clip into his gun. She shot a look over her shoulder and saw the villagers swarming out of the house. Two more thundering shots from the Desert Eagle and two more villagers went down. Rebecca added her own duet of shots but she wasn't quite as successful as Leon, only one went down while the other staggered backwards with a cry of pain.
The ex-cop quickly finished the last man off and a sudden silence fell over the area. After the battle, which had likely been all of five minutes or less, it seemed completely out of place. Only their collective ragged breaths penetrated the quiet of the country side. Rebecca managed to stand herself up on shaky legs.
"You ok 'becca?" Leon asked through deep oxygen-greedy breaths.
"Yeah, but if you ever do that again, I'll give you one hell of a smack."
Despite the situation, Leon managed a thin smile of apology. "Right, sorry 'bout that." Something, however, clicked in the mind that made the smile vanish and his eyes widen in worry. "Oh, shit! The car!" Leon was already running half way through his sentence and Rebecca was automatically following before she even knew she could move.
There were all the tell tale signs of a crash, deep tire tracks the veered wildly in the mud and over the cliff; the bridge was also unusable, the robes snapped causing it to sway gently in the wind. Despite all logic, Leon rushed over to the side of the cliff and peered over. He froze in confirmed dread; the car they had come here in, not to mention the dirty old truck lie at the bottom of the riverbed. A small fire decorated the overturned truck while the car looked as though it had been crushed by a giant fist. Strangely there were no signs of any bodies.
So, no need to lose all hope yet. Leon thought, though his training told him there just might be the need. Rebecca jogged over and covered her mouth in fright at the scene. It was official, they were stuck as hell. That only left the alternative of completing the mission and calling for an evac.
Leon solemnly reloaded his half spent clip and chambered a round. No use in sticking around in plain sight. "Come on, let's head for the village." Leon muttered.
Rebecca gave a small nod, finally tearing her eyes off the pair of vehicles. She suddenly felt much less interested in Spain as a vacation spot.
Dante was forced to dodge another pitchfork as he danced between the insane villagers. A sickle was swung at him but he lightly leapt backward and put a bullet in the head of his assailant. He spun round and smashed his boot into another villager who had been trying to get the drop on him. Another shot and another crazed local was put down for a dirt nap.
Shit, what's with these guys? They're just as mindless as those damn hell prides were. Dante thought and pistol whipped a third man, sending him sprawling. Another pitchfork flew at him and again Dante proved faster; he fell behind the offending weapon and grabbed hold of its wooden grip. The devil hunter easily pulled the object away from the man who groped after it like a three-year-old after their favorite toy. Dante twirled the pitchfork around as he spun and smashed the metal end into the Spaniard's head.
Another "man" lunged forward with his weapon, screaming for Dante's blood. The half-devil casually side-stepped the attack, a small grin on his handsomely strong features and he hooked an arm around the villager's neck. A quick jerk, a loud snap, and the man became a corpse falling to the ground. The number of attacking villagers was decreasing, from the original seventeen, there were now thirteen.
Alright, time to stop messing around. I got more important stuff to do. Two more villagers charged and Dante took out Rebellion. This meant trouble for anything and everything in the son of Sparda's path. Two quick slices and both had been cleaved in rough halves. Now there were only eleven and the villagers were starting to understand that the odds weren't stacked in their favor.
They began to cautiously step backward. Dante smiled slightly and wagged his finger in a disapproving way. "Tsk, tsk. Didn't your parents ever tell you: Don't start what you can't finish?" With that, he replaced his sword and took out Ebony and Ivory. However before he could fire another shot, a red cloud burst out of the lead villagers temple. A look of surprise passed over his face and he fell to the ground.
Dante blinked. What the hell?
Another three villagers were killed in rapid succession and Dante understood. Somebody had a silencer and was dropping all of the villagers. The son of Sparda wasn't about to have some upstart sniper take all his thunder and he finished off the remaining possessed townspeople. Dante twirled his twin pistols and replaced them in their respective holsters.
There was a brief silence and the white haired man crossed his arms casually. "So, are you going to come out so I can thank you, or are we going to play hide-and-seek?" Again there was nothing but the natural sounds of the wilderness. Then there was the sound of something moving through the foliage. Dante inclined an eyebrow and turned toward the noise.
A man, with a shaggy head of brown hair stepped out of the surrounding brush. He was clothed in an odd wetsuit like piece of attire and was decked out in a variety of military hardware. He was a little shorter than Dante, with a slimmer build, however he looked just as threatening and skilled as he or Vergil ever were. It looked like he hadn't shaved in a while and he was lighting up a cigarette. A dark blue bandanna that matched his suit was tied tightly around his head and the tassels hung down to his shoulders.
"I suppose I should thank you for the help. Not that I really needed it." Dante stated with a small smirk.
The man scoffed in reply and took a drag from his smoke. "Right, guess I'll remember that when you have somebody dangerous sneaking up on you." He said in a gruff voice.
"Oh yeah, and when might that be?"
The man leaned to one side, looking over the devil hunter's shoulder. "About now."
Dante's eyes widened and he spun around, just in time to see a single villager charging him with a full sized scythe. The half-devil attempted to dodge but it was too late and he received a chest full of scythe. For a moment, all was still, and Dante glanced down at the Scythe then back at the growling villager. The devil hunter waved his hand in a as-you were-saying-manner. "Right, and?"
A look of shock passed over the dirty face of the townsperson. Dante drew back his fist and smashed it into the man's skull. The devil hunter ripped the scythe out and tossed it uncaringly to the side and gave a helpless shrug of his shoulders. "Some people; man and I thought people back home had anger problems."
He turned back to see the gruff man staring at him like he'd suddenly grown a new head. A cigarette hung limply for his slightly open mouth. "How the?"
Dante smiled and pointed a thumb at himself. "I'm just special that way."
Snake stared dumbly at the man who'd just survived a blade going clean through his gut. It had to be a trick of some sort, a well executed illusion that played with Snake's mind. But as he looked at the rapidly closing wound and blood on the man's clothing, he started having some doubts in that theory. Snake quickly shook off his speculation for another time; they were standing out in the open in hostile territory. They had to find shelter and quick.
Suddenly there was a loud yell. Both instantly recognized the sound of another villager and this one sounded absolutely enraged. This was followed by another yell, then another, then another. It must have been a full blown mob, all screaming like an army of ancient barbarian warriors. All screaming for their blood. Then another sound cut through the yells, a loud roaring sound that resembled a muscle car's engine revving.
Shit, chainsaw! Snake concluded in a whirl.
He turned to his new acquaintance and wondered if he could survive a chainsaw getting rammed through him. The distinct look of concern on the white haired man's face didn't make Snake think so. The two men locked eyes for a moment in silent conversation.
"Well, looks like they got another party coming our way. I don't know about you but I don't mix that well with chainsaws. We should find somewhere to ride this out." The man reasoned.
Snake weighed his options he could either A) stay out here and likely die in a blaze of flaming glory, hence accomplishing nothing, or B) hide for the time being and complete the task he came here for. He gave the man an affirmative nod, after all, no sense in dieing needlessly. The man shot a glance around the area and spotted a small out-of-the-way house that had only a single window.
The man pointed. "That seems like as good a place as any. Come on!"
Both ran for what they hoped would be a brief reprieve from the insane villagers.
Leon was glad he'd bought that bomber jacket now; this place was cold as hell. They'd gone down a very gloomy looking path and a brief search of a shack had rewarded some ammo for Rebecca's pistol and a first aid spray. How in the hell one of those found its way here, Leon had no idea but was grateful none-the-less. Those sprays could work wonders.
Both had been relatively quiet and Leon welcomed the silence; he really needed it to digest all that had happened so far. It seemed too much like a bad HBO drama to be real. Two agents working for the US government go to Spain on a routine mission. Suddenly they're surrounded by crazed villagers with no chance of escape. Man, I should pitch it to Fox. I'd be rich! Assuming we ever get out of here that is.
His musings were interrupted by the sound of whimpering. Leon furrowed his eyebrows; it didn't sound like a person then it could only be-
"Ah hell."
-a wolf, or what looked like a wolf had gotten its back right leg stuck in a bear strap. Leon jogged over and inspected the trap, it was old and rusty. At least that means the villagers couldn't have set it. 'Least I hope not.
"It's alright boy, we'll have you out of there in a second." The ex-cop slipped his fingers in between the teeth of the trap and began to pull. With a low whining-groan, the metal pulled apart just enough so the dog could get out. It pulled its leg free with a whimper then turned its head too the two agents and barked in thanks. Then it ran off into the woods.
Guess the trap was just too old. That should have broken its leg. Leon mused but decided to put it to the back of his mind. Suddenly the ex-cop felt a hand on his shoulder and he shot a look at Rebecca. She was smiling at him and for a second Leon's mind did some rather unnecessary roaming as to what this could mean. No, no. Bad, wrong, don't get those thoughts in your head. It's Rebecca for crying out loud.
A sudden yell in Spanish shook them from their brief moment of connection. A villager was charging them, yelling wildly and swinging a hatchet around in the air. Suddenly feeling very irritated Leon raised his gun and fired at the man's chest. With a strangled cry he fell forward in between a pair of trees and his body stopped mid air for a moment. A small but concentrated explosion blew both trees out of the soil and vaporized the man. In the surrounding tall grass several more bear traps snapped close due to the shock wave.
Then as quick as it started, it was over. Leon stared dumbly at the scene while Rebecca looked both shocked and distinctly horrified. They can plant traps? Oh hell, this just keeps getting better and better doesn't it? I didn't even see a bomb, so not only do they have them, but they knew how to hide them damn well.
Leon let out a sigh, and wondered briefly if this "first day on the job" would be as bad as his last; it was certainly starting that way.
Dante slammed the door shut the second both he and the army guy were inside. Normally he wouldn't dream about running from a fight but he had something of a phobia of chainsaws. He couldn't explain it but he suspected it was a combination of his seven-year-old imagination and seeing The Texas Chainsaw Massacre at about one a.m. one lonely night. The man crouched down in front of the window and clutched his rifle which Dante saw was a FAMAS assault rifle. The guy had taste in weapons, that was for sure.
"By the way, before any more of the village of the damned out there attack us, my name's Dante."
"Snake." The man replied curtly as he watched the villager's activity through the dirty window.
"Oh yeah? Any relation to those people from Kill Bill?" Dante asked jokingly.
The man's expression didn't change and the devil hunter's smile fell slightly. "No, I don't watch Tarantino movies. Too over-exaggerated."
The smile on Dante's face returned, albeit to a smaller degree. "Sure, just like our friends outside." The devil hunter leaned against a wall and glanced out the window.
"What the hell are they?" Snake asked after a moment of silence, a trace of confusion filtering into his rough voice.
"Uh, lemme think. Hmm, ah yes it has to be! They're The Incredibly Strange Creatures Who Stopped Living and Became Mixed-Up Zombies." Dante said brightly.
Snake's brow furrowed and he slowly turned to give Dante a confusion ridden look. The devil hunter's smile at his own joke again faltered.
"What, never saw that?"
Snake turned back to his watching the villagers without a word.
And done. Again sorry about the delay. Hope you enjoyed it and don't forget to review.
GN