Darkness Arises
By E-Z B
Chapter 30: Entering the Devil's Playground
It had been over half an hour since Jake and his two companions had arrived at the secret Umbrella research outpost, literally hundreds of miles beneath the surface of Raccoon City, its existence known only to the highest level researchers.
The survivors gathered in a security office, where they had found a cot for the wounded Ada to rest on and the two men had raided a nearby refrigerator for a quick late night snack, a small miracle they had carried on long enough to enjoy another meal. Searching through the nearby lockers, they scrounged up some extra ammo for their shotguns and magnums and another storage chest, which yielded two additional clips for Jake's MP5.
By now Ada had slowly stirred back into consciousness and Leon knelt protectively over her, their conversation the criminal paid no attention to.
Jake sat at the desk working on an abandoned laptop, trying to hack into the system and find whatever information he possibly could regarding the goings-on at the facility. All he managed to find were a bunch of personal e-mails directed to members of the security staff and other useless files on training and security protocol. He did however manage to find a few layouts of the complex and printed maps out for both himself and Leon. Everything else that could have been of possible use had been deleted, either as a security measure or someone else had beaten them here.
All of the valuable data had been stolen and there was nothing more that could be used to pin anything on Umbrella. Sighing in frustration, Jake stood up and returned his attention to Leon, who had risen to his feet after a heartfelt conversation with the injured woman and turned warily towards his travel partner.
"We need to find what we can for her and get out of here as soon as possible," Leon spoke gravely staring down at the woman. "I don't know about you, but if I can't save somebody other than ourselves, then I honestly don't know if I'll have accomplished anything in this mess or not."
Jake looked deep into the man's eyes and nodded, being able to sense the distress within his soul. "It's better that one person survives than nobody at all. When we make it out of here, there will be an even greater war at hand, the war against an international corporation that probably has even more money than God himself, a corporation that could probably retaliate against us and then sweep it under the rug like nothing ever happened. If you ask me, this is just the beginning."
"You're right," Leon timidly replied, "This is only just the beginning. As large as they are, I doubt Umbrella wouldn't overlook even one of their tiniest research facilities just up and disappearing like that. They're going to come looking for us if they know we made it out of here alive."
"We'll probably have to go underground then," Jake retorted checking over his silenced pistol. "There have to be similar people out there who have suffered under those shitheads and probably want them as badly as we do. We'll link up with them and then it's a matter of 'you scratch my back, I scratch your back.' Hopefully they'll have the resources and manpower we'd need to launch a campaign from the shadows. Nothing full-scale or they'd mop the floor with us in an instant." The instant Jake finished his little speech, more moans were heard from outside.
"Just like I thought, there are more of them here!" Leon shouted raising his shotgun, but was silenced by the criminal motioning for him to keep his voice down. Readying his silenced pistol, Jake hugged the wall next to the door and looked to the cop, mouthing "1…2…3!" before he threw the door open and immediately fired into a nearby zombie.
The bullet soared through the zombie's cerebral cortex and it hit the metal floor with a clanging thud. Looking up to the others, Jake saw there were eight more altogether and something was different about them compared to the zombies he had encountered on the streets above. All of them were naked and most of their skin had fallen from their bodies and was still shedding with every step they took. These zombies appeared to be more brittle than their counterparts from above, almost as if they had been engineering in these very labs.
Leon appeared next to Jake and immediately dropped three with a shotgun blast and then switched to his customized VP-70, gunning down a few more in rapid succession before his partner finished off the last two with silenced shots.
"The monsters are here too," Leon muttered and quickly pulled out his radio, "Oh God, I hope Claire is alright. She talked about possibly meeting us here, I just hope she found her way here alright…if she's still alive that is," visible dread filling his last words before activating the radio. "Claire! Are you there? Do you copy?"
An eerie static accompanied by some dull clanks followed before a reply sounded "I'm here Leon. Sherry and I have just reached the tram and were on our way down when the motor overheated and we got stuck. I'm traveling through the bowels of the facility as I speak." The line went silent for a few seconds and then Claire's youthful voice sounded again, "Okay, I've just entered some control room. Wait, I've just found another body and…OH!" A frightened cry ended the transmission and the line went dead.
Leon looked up fearfully to Jake and clamped the radio tight, "Claire! Are you there! Do you copy? Answer me please!" he screamed into the receiver looking like he was about to hyperventilate. An empty static hiss was his only reply and the officer nearly dropped the transceiver to the floor. "Oh God…" he muttered dreadfully and gave a wide-eyed expression to his companion, "She must've encountered another monster! I hope she's not…"
Jake raised his hand once again to silence the terrified officer, "She's not!" he replied flatly and stared back mutely.
Leon looked back dumbstruck, his fear turning to confusion. "What? How can you be sure?" he gasped not knowing what to make of the matter.
"Trust me," Jake replied, the corner of his lip forming a half-smile, "She's no damsel in distress. She can handle herself." He checked the current clip in his silenced pistol and looked over his shoulder to the policeman, "If I were you, I'd worry about that kid. She's probably the only person who can't defend herself in this whole mess. I'm sure Claire has been taking good care of her though, so I wouldn't worry. Now if you mind, we have some exploring of our own to do."
The two men went down a hallway to their left and entered a massive octagonal-shaped chamber that must have been taller than even the highest building in all of Raccoon. A bottomless pit was beneath them with nothing else in sight. A similar octagonal-shaped column stood in the middle of the room which would probably point them to where they needed to go. Strangely, everything was dripping wet as well.
Walking into the column, the duo found some sort of mechanism with a burnt out fuse in the center of it, signaling there were probably doors nearby that needed to be activated.
Looking to both sides, Leon took note of a blue-lit path leading to the west and a red-lit path leading to the east. "We've got more than one path once again and a lot of ground to cover. Jake, why don't you take the red path? I'll take the blue path and see what I can find. Maybe along the way one of us will find a fuse for this mechanism."
"Sounds fine with me," Jake replied and pulled out his katana sword, "Maybe I can get some practice. Been a while since I've had the chance to put this bad boy to use," he said taking a few practice swings and then holding it in a traditional samurai combat stance.
"Alright, keep in touch if you need anything," Leon ordered and then made his way down the blue-lit bridge.
Jake nodded silently to the leaving man and made his way down the red light bridge ready to use his blade for the first time in more than a day. Sneaking a peek at his digital watch, it was now after 1 in the morning, September 30, 1998. He had now been in the nightmare for four long, arduous days which were taking a physical and mental toll on him with every small skirmish he endured, but he vowed it would not break him.
Emotions were powerful things that could determine every little outcome, and for years Jake had been a master at keeping his emotions in check. To control how a person felt was impossible, but the career criminal had endured enough hardship in his life as it was and had learned coping tactics throughout the years which had acted as his defense mechanisms. Steeling his mental defenses he continued forth.
"I am in control," the voice echoed throughout his mind, "I am the master of my own being, not my fear or my pity. I will not falter in my mission."
The hydraulics hissed loudly as the career criminal approached the door, only to be greeted by a lanky man dressed in the tattered remnants of a bloodstained lab coat. Large chunks were missing from the former scientist's scalp and its shattered glasses still hung from one rim. Hunks of skin hung from its fingers and blood trickled from its mouth as it let out a dry moan.
With a twirl of his sword, the criminal swung the blade upward, slicing a large portion from the cadaver's skull and watched as the brain poured out from its finely crafted opening. He shook his blade to the side to fling the viral-infected blood away and made his way into the hallway.
Six additional zombies clad in lab coats, light blue surgical scrubs and black security uniforms stumbled towards the criminal with arms raised ready to move in for the kill.
"Strength in numbers as usual, I've always got my work cut out for me!" Jake smirked looking down to his blade, "Looks like I'll be making more use of you than I thought."
Jake approached the nearest zombie and made two quick slashes across the walking corpse's chest before delivering a third which sliced its head clean off. Twirling his body around, he slices another's head off and then leapt forward driving his blade through the skull of another. With three down already, he pulled his blade out and sliced the head off the fourth one and then took down the last two with a massive spinning heel kick, following up by driving his blade through both their skulls.
"Alright, got those freaks taken care of," Jake thought aloud and tried the nearest door, which was locked, and then made his way to the door at the end. It was unlocked. Readying his silenced pistol he slowly opened the door.
"You're going down asshole!" a voice suddenly screamed and the criminal found a Glock-17 pistol shoved into his face. Responding with his lightning-like reflexes, Jake grabbed the man's hand and twisted it behind him and then threw him into the nearest wall. The frightened man still tried to fight with him and pulled out an extra pistol he had kept hidden in his soiled lab coat.
Seeing no other choice, Jake raised his silenced pistol and fired three rounds into the man's chest, sending him flying backwards onto a nearby bench.
Hearing more footsteps, the criminal spun around to barely dodge an iron pipe directed at his skull. Using the same reflexes that had saved him before, he jumped the researcher from behind while the man recovered from his attack and put him in a headlock, placing his silenced Beretta to the man's temple. It wasn't until he heard more panicked screams that he finally noticed the other people in the room.
Huddled in the corner of the staff quarters were five additional researchers and a man in a gray industrial jumper who was either a janitor or maintenance worker. All of them carried melee weapons ranging from survival knives to brooms and were covered from head to toe by blood and grime, but appeared to have no serious injuries that could render them a threat. In the northwest corner of the room was another corpse lying near a previously ignited puddle of gasoline with charred vines surrounding it and an opened vent above.
Jake kept his gun firmly pressed against the researcher's temple, which he now noticed was a short, mostly bald African-American male wearing thick bifocals and a stethoscope around his neck. He listened wordlessly to the man's whimpering and then tightened his hold motioning for him to shut up before he spoke.
"Alright nobody move or your friend gets it," the criminal spoke, his narrowed eyes focusing on the group before him. As if to emphasize his words, he drove the muzzle further into the researcher's temple and pulled the hammer back, prompting the man to form a silence scream on his face, fearful of taking a bullet.
"Please, don't hurt him!" one of the researchers, a woman in her late forties with shoulder-length gray hair and black wire-rimmed glasses, called out throwing her hand up, only to earn a cold glare from the criminal.
Staring long and hard at the woman cursing her foolish bravery, he finally took in the four other researchers and the maintenance worker. To the woman's immediately right was a middle-aged man around the woman's height with short black hair and icy blue eyes clutching a fire axe covered in crusted blood. Behind him stood the man in the industrial jumper, a tall, heavyset man with short blonde hair covered by a turned around baseball cap armed with a pipe wrench. In the corner behind the woman was a mostly bald older man in his late sixties wearing glasses and the remnants of a red tie. In his age-marked hands he held a .38 caliber snub-nosed revolver, but judging by the trembling the criminal could tell that the man probably didn't even know how to use the gun, let alone be brave enough to even attempt firing it. Next to the old man was a slightly younger researcher with receding brown hair and a big puffy mustache that almost made him look comical, holding a gleaming survival knife that he had probably not had the chance to use yet. The last man was a short Asian barely over five feet tall with slicked back black hair and carried the splintered remnants of a broom he had crudely sharpened into a spear. A motley crew if there ever was one, truly a twisted miracle that a bunch of white coats could possibly survive the very horrors they had created.
"Answer my questions and I won't," Jake replied, the venomous hiss never leaving his voice as he slightly loosened his grip on the researcher, allowing some of the color to return to his face.
"What do you need to know? Name it and we will help the best we can!" the older man with the revolver shouted from behind the woman, the hesitation heavy in his fragile voice.
Deciding to play dumb once again he brought up the monsters, "Tell me what the hell is going on with all of those zombies and Lickers running around out there?"
"Oh, you mean the 'Re3's?" the black-haired scientist asked, receiving a sharp glare from Jake.
"Yes, those Re3's as you call them! I've nearly been killed by God knows how man of them!" Jake growled to the man, forcing him to take cover behind the maintenance worker, who was sweating bullets himself at the mysterious man's presence.
"It must have been a T-Virus leak," the woman scientist spoke up again. The criminal remained silent knowing that it was the T-Virus that turned the people around him into undead cannibals. Seeing that she now had some room for speaking, the woman proceeded to explain what the T-Virus was the to criminal and the events that had led up to the eventual viral outbreak in Raccoon City, pretty much reciting most of what Sebastian had in his diary. She also stated that the virus was only communicable through bites and scratches from an infected carrier.
"Okay, so is there a cure to this little virus of yours?" Jake asked applied extra pressure to the researcher he held, drawing more muffled cries from the smaller man.
"We're sorry, but there is no cure for this virus," the mustachioed researcher replied, "But believe us, we're working diligently on a cure for this abomination! We've been at it for months!"
"Damn…" Jake cursed under his breath. The criminal truly was disappointed by that revelation, hoping that they had developed some kind of vaccine for the virus. "They created this disaster; you'd think they'd have the decency to develop an antidote to cover up this mess. Guess not. They might not be that stupid, but they are that arrogant," he thought to himself.
His thoughts then shifted to the people who had died because of the T-Virus, ordinary people like Bob Turner, Sheila Byrd, Marvin Branagh and countless others. Then they shifted to those who had lost much because of the ordeal, like Donald Byrd, David McGraw, Mark Wilkins, Kevin Ryman and Jill Valentine, people who had lost friends, relatives, acquaintances, careers and so much more. Lastly, his thoughts moved on to those who had simply been in the wrong place at the wrong time, like Leon Kennedy, Claire Redfield, Ada Wong, Eric Rawlings and the other poor souls who had the misfortune of passing through Raccoon City when it was in the middle of an indescribable uproar only to find themselves caught in a deathtrap with no way out.
Returning his attention to the researchers he inquired about a way out, "Alright is there any way out of this place? Something that can get me far away from here, like a helicopter or a train?" he asked purposely neglecting to mention his companions. Doing so would endanger them if there were Umbrella security forces still patrolling the perimeter and the researchers gained the fortitude to rat him out.
"There…is a…train…that leads…out of…here" the researcher he held managed to choke out.
The nameless man he held finally spoke something that could be of use and cautiously the criminal released his grip on the man's throat, allowing him to sink to his hands and knees. Jake kept his pistol trained on the downed man to deter him from escape and let him regain his breath before he spoke up again.
"Tell me where this train is and make damn sure you're telling me the truth…or else…" Jake moved his pistol downward and trained it on the man's groin giving him an evil smirk.
"There is a train on the P-4 level of this facility that should take you to nearby Latham," the man spoke eying the silenced pistol nervously. "It's just a few floors down, but you will need to find a MO Disk to open the hermetically sealed vault doors, that and a platform key to get the train operational."
"Anything else I need to know?" Jake asked, his aim unwavering as his cool blue-gray eyes pierced the man's soul.
"Yes, if any biohazardous material at all finds its way onto the train, you will have to dispose of it immediately or else the train will come to a complete standstill and you'll be stuck where you were before," the researcher spoke, some calm returning to his voice as he told the absolute truth, hoping that he would be spared from certain doom.
"All I needed to know," Jake replied taking his pistol away from the researcher, who quickly scampered back towards his colleagues. "If you people know about this train then why the hell haven't you made your way there yet?"
"Are you crazy? There are too many of those monsters lurking about out there!" the Asian researcher cut in, his voice thick with a Vietnamese accent. "Those creatures have already massacred all of our security staff and we are left with only these pitiful tools to defend ourselves with," he motioned towards the makeshift spear he held in trembling hands. "If we set foot anywhere outside of here, they would eat us alive!"
"Well, karma's a bitch ain't it?" Jake retorted, wanting to rub the man's own ignorance back in his face. This researcher had obviously contributed to the creation of these mockeries of nature ignorant of the possible ramifications that could follow, and now here he was cornered by his own creations armed with only a primitive spear. "You created these freaks; don't you think it's about time you owned up to your own mistakes?" the criminal thought bitterly and turned his attention to the other researchers.
"And you seriously think the cavalry will come down here to rescue you?" Jake asked taking note of the two dead researchers in the room. "As boxed in as you are down here I doubt they'd even be able to reach you."
"Not entirely!" the woman spoke up again, "Before our mainframe was damaged, we managed to send out a distress e-mail to the Umbrella Special Services! They should be on their way at any minute!"
"Terrific," Jake thought to himself sarcastically, "Just what we need, a bunch of trigger happy commandoes showing up ready to shoot anything that moves. Knowing Umbrella, they'll probably come just to silence these poor schmucks and wipe out evidence of any wrongdoings going on down here."
"Any idea when they should be arriving?" the criminal asked.
"No, like I said, our mainframe was damaged shortly after we sent out the e-mail!" the woman replied hesitantly, "We have no idea if they'll be coming at all and the workstation in here isn't functioning properly either. Like you said, we're basically boxed in here."
Jake looked over to the corner where the other deceased researcher lay and then glanced up towards the open vent. "What about that vent over there? Haven't you tried getting out through there?"
"We sent one of our colleagues through there a few hours ago," the black-haired researcher spoke, "That was four hours ago and we heard some screams…we suspect he probably didn't make it out alive."
Jake looked back to the vent and sighed, "Fine, I'll check it out. I don't know if I'll be back or not, but I'll see what I can find."
"You'll come back for us won't you?" the older man spoke up again, "Please tell me you'll send help for us at least!"
The criminal looked back to the older man, whose nametag read "Birdwell," the horror flashing in his eyes, wordlessly pleading that he would come back to rescue him.
"I don't know," Jake replied flatly, "If I don't make it out of here alive, then you're all on your own." He then noticed the two handguns the researcher he killed had been carrying, the Glock-17 and the other an H&K USP9. Kneeling down without taking his eyes off the researchers, he scooped up both weapons and tossed them over to them. "You got any other weapons besides these?" he demanded.
"In the locker over there is an official Umbrella Inc. Incinerator Unit, or as you'd probably call it a flamethrower," the mustached scientist reported, "Although it is still highly experimental and none of us had any formal training in using it."
Jake ignored the man's comment and walked over to the locker opening it to find a standard military-issue-looking flamethrower positioned vertically with a fresh fuel capsule loaded. He then looked back to the maintenance worker, who had not uttered a single word while he had been there and pulled out his shotgun and tossed it to the man. "Take it, I won't be needing it anymore," he spoke and then pulled out his case of shotgun shells and slid them along the ground towards the man.
"Gee, thanks Mister…"
"My name is of no concern to you," Jake spat hoisting the flamethrower and pointing it threateningly in the worker's direction. There was no way in hell he was going to give his name out to an Umbrella employee, especially when he had been sent to eliminate one of their own. Shooting another threatening glare, he brushed past the researchers and hoisted himself up into the opened vent. "If any of you try to follow me, you'll end up just like your friend down there. I'd stay put if I were any of you," he shot back from the vent and made his way through.
The vent was much wider than the criminal thought and he had no problems making his way through despite his muscular bulk. As he climbed on his stomach, he suddenly found himself moving through some mysterious green gunk which he assumed was probably the leftovers of the plant that had once occupied the vent. Sticking out of the goop he found the remnants of a gold Rolex watch and near it, a cracked ID card with the name "Luce" printed on it. "Must've been their colleague, looks like he didn't get too far after all," Jake thought as he climbed through the sludge trying to ignore the sticky sensation on his arms and keeping his head low to avoid getting it in his hair.
Rounding a corner, the criminal found the remnants of a black dress shoe and a Browning HP handgun which had been filled with the green gunk and was no longer useful. A sickly green light shone in from the opening and at the end of the vent he found an abandoned survival knife coated with both the green slime and human blood. A set of ragged hisses he knew all too well sounded out, prompting him to ready his S&W as he moved to the opening.
Beneath him two Lickers feasted on the remnants of what was probably the lost colleague and had pieces littering the once spotless floor. They stopped once the criminal had gotten close enough and perked their heads into the air listening for wet movements.
Jake didn't even give them time to act and with two cracks of his revolver they were both dead with their heads obliterated. Lowering himself onto a nearby bench, the criminal found himself in another bunkroom, one that had been covered in vines that seemingly grew out of the walls and ceiling. Creeping around to make sure none of them came to life trying to grab him; he made his way towards a locker in the southwestern corner of the room and searched it to find more shotgun shells as well as more speed loaders for his revolver and another MP5 clip. A loaded Mossberg shotgun was present, but he decided to leave it for in case Leon, Claire or someone else passed through who needed it.
Stepping through the door, Jake found himself back in the hallway he had just come from and listened for sounds from the nearby quarters if the researchers were still present. Nothing but a few muffled voices; he would leave them behind and let them fight their own way out. "You're on your own you slimebags," he thought to himself and turned around.
The hiss of hydraulics was heard once again and from the corner a blast door raised and two new abominations that should not exist made their presence felt.
Slithering towards the career criminal came two person-sized plants, one mostly green and the other mostly red, moving on what looked like legs and each with two arm-like appendages with sharp looking tips that almost resembled flowers that had not yet bloomed.
"Time for some more pest control," the criminal spoke quietly raising the flamethrower and leveling it towards the creatures' "heads." They could not see him, but could probably still smell him and slinked towards him with the red plant opening its head to fire a blast of poisonous mist at him. The shot landed at the criminal's feet and he leapt backward to avoid inhaling the fumes.
Squeezing down on the trigger, a ray of fire shot out and swallowed the two mutations whole, letting out their tortured screams while they withered away into piles of ash and the flames died down.
"Christ, it'd almost be scary to think of what it would be like if Umbrella was trying its hand at farming," Jake whispered pulling out his radio and speaking. "Leon are you there?"
"Yeah, I'm here Jake. How are you holding up?" the rookie officer asked from his end of the line.
"Fine so far," the criminal spoke reviewing his surroundings and then staring back to the pile of ash that had once been the Ivy plants.
"I've got the power back on and now we should be able to access certain doors," Leon replied.
"Uh huh…listen I've overheard that some Umbrella cleaner units might be on their way. Chances are they might have some itchy trigger fingers and under orders to blast anything that walks, including anything still human, so you better be on the lookout for anything suspicious," the criminal explained, remembering what the researchers had told him.
"Alright, you'd better watch out yourself. Let me know if you come across anything else." The line then went dead and the criminal was left to resume his adventure.
"Yeah, watch out kid," Jake thought to himself looking back once again towards the burnt plants and down to the zombies he had hacked apart with his blade. "We're walking around in the Devil's playground down here; God knows how many more of these things are wandering about down here. Being the origin of the outbreak, there could be plenty more down here than what I've seen on the streets above and with the twisted minds these deluded fools had; I doubt I've seen the last of their "pets" running around. Fuck, I wouldn't be surprised if Dracula, Frankenstein and the Wolf Man all showed up wanting a five star meal."
Kicking the next door open, the career criminal found himself diving against the wall to avoid an acid blast directed at his chest. While the beast recovered from its attack, Jake stuck his flamethrower out the opened door and torched two more Ivy plants that had been loitering on the platform.
"Just no low these clowns won't stoop to," Jake said aloud as he now found himself in a large elevator shaft with a huge vine-like leviathan spanning down as far as his eyes could see, moving tentacles sticking out from all directions threatening to reach out and grab him at any second. Below more Ivy scuttled about sensing the human's presence and some of the tentacles began moving towards him.
With the squeeze of a trigger, fire rained down upon the mutated plants.
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"Do you think that mysterious fellow made it?" Dr. Birdwell asked his colleagues standing near the vent while trying to avoid the sprawled corpse of Dr. Pentland, who had been strangled to death by the mutated vines while trying to ignite them with some gasoline after Dr. Luce had gone missing.
"I don't know, but he appeared to be pretty well-armed so I believe his chances would be high," replied Dr. Brentwood, the middle-aged dark-haired man. "But I don't know if he'll be sending any help back for us, he didn't seem to care much that we were alive."
"Well somebody has to come through and rescue us," spoke Dr. Troyer, the only woman in the room. "We have done everything the company has told us and have served them loyally throughout this whole project. There must be something they will do for us!"
A loud crash came from above and the six researchers and maintenance worker jumped back as a ventilation duct cover fell. The armed employees pointed their guns to the opening fearing that another monster was about to make its entrance.
A pair of human feet suddenly appeared from the opening and a dark-clad figure dropped to the floor with the grace of a feline, followed closely by another. Two men – at least they appeared tall enough to be men, stood before the frightened workers wearing gas masks and bulky black combat gear that bore no company symbols to identify who they worked for. Glowing red eyes peered upon the researchers, who did not know what to make of the mysterious men and cautiously lowered their weapons. Looking to each other, the nameless troopers withdrew M-4 assault rifles and pointed them at the researchers, forcing them to raise their hands in the air.
Despite having weapons of their own, these researchers would be no match for two alien-looking killing machines with assault rifles and one by one, each dropped their firearms.
"Don't shoot; we're with the science team!" Dr. Eagles, the African-American researcher called out, hoping these men were the rescue party sent by Umbrella.
Still saying nothing, the two commandos looked to each other and nodded. Squeezing down on their triggers, the rifles crackled to life, cutting down the battered researchers in a wave of screaming hot metal knocking them back against the wall hard enough to break their bones.
The gunfire continued until the trooper in front brought up his hand up motioning for his subordinate to stop. He listened intently for any sounds and brought his rifle up the second he heard a moan, escaping from the tired lips of the maintenance worker. The commando fired a single round through the dying man's skull, silencing what was left of him.
Looking back to his subordinate again, the trooper tapped the side of his helmet, activating his communication device, "All clear!"
Two more commandos dropped down from the ventilation duct and began searching the fallen researchers stripping them of weapons, ammo and anything else of use they carried. Surveying the carnage he had just created, the leader tapped on his helmet again and spoke into the miniature microphone.
"Cavanaugh was just through here, we heard his voice," the commando spoke in a robotic tone.
"Leave him," an icy voice commanded from the other end, "He has a job to do and it must be seen to it that he completes it."
"What if we cross paths with him?" the commando asked, prompting stares from his fellow soldiers.
"You won't," the voice flatly stated, "Neither you or any of your men are to interfere in his mission. If for some reason he is to stumble across any of you, you are simply to knock him out and leave him be. Do I make myself clear?"
The trooper looked to his commandos and breathed deeply, "Affirmative."
"Good, you have your orders Major. Now get to them!"
"Yes sir!" the Major replied.
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Jake Cavanaugh literally burnt a path of devastation through a pack of mutated Ivy plants, torching them with a flamethrower he had retrieved from one of the many staff quarters located throughout the underground facility. Moving through a door, he found himself in a dull gray hallway, where almost immediately a Re3 dropped through one of the ceiling tiles landing inches away from his feet. As quickly as it landed, the beast was swallowed whole by a wall of fire compliments of the criminal's heavy artillery.
"Magnificent, don't you agree?" the icy voice whispered to a commando standing near him.
Unknown to the career criminal, a mysterious individual was watching his every move from the safety of the facility's main control room, an individual who wielded much power and influence.
"Just look at how gracefully he tears through those inhuman heathens like they are mere flies. I tell you, now I know my intuitions were right in selecting him for this assignment.
"There were those who looked at me oddly when I planned on picking a "petty street criminal" to perform this task for our organization, but now I see that he is much more than that.
"This man is a highly competent street criminal, a Grade A trained killer, a jack of all trades, a master of his craft. This man is no ordinary criminal, he is a born soldier, able to adapt to any battlefield he sets foot in. Now I know my contact in the Mafia wasn't just on some drunken tirade when he boasted of how good this man was. Jake Cavanaugh is the real deal I tell you, an asset we would be foolish to part with once this mission is complete."
The man he spoke to was clad in the same commando gear as the other troopers milling about the room; however a set of golden bars on his uniform signaled that he was of higher rank than everybody else. In his hands he held an M-4 assault rifle just like the others, but also carried two sidearm pistols instead of one. He turned to face the mysterious man, "Are you saying you want to recruit him after this mission is over with?"
"Precisely Commander," The Man spoke, hidden in the shadows, "I feel with the right payments and benefits, we could make Jake Cavanaugh a full-fledged member of our family," he continued, adding emphasis to the word "family."
"Are you sure?" the Commander asked, looking down to his troops before looking back to the mysterious man, "You've sent the man into a city full of the walking dead. Do you seriously think promising only ten million dollars would be enough in convincing him to join our cause? The man is a mercenary! How can you be certain he won't just move on to the next bidder once he collects your payment?"
The mysterious man let out a low chuckle, "No need to worry. The man is a wanted criminal; he is constantly on the run and to a man who probably cannot spend the night in even the lowest shack, ten million dollars is a lot. Plus, there is so much else we can offer him.
"Think about it, with the authorities constantly on his tail, all we would have to do is bribe the right contacts and offer him shelter from those untouchable types, and if that isn't enough, we could promise him all the hard drugs and loose women to his heart's content.
"If even those promises are unable to convince him…" The Man cracked his knuckles, "then he will just need some more "persuasion," if you catch my drift."
The Commander remained silent and returned his attention to the troops below them. Several armed commandos patrolled the control room ready to respond if any B.O.W.'s decided to make their presence felt. At the vast control consoles, numerous techs were hard at work hacking into the system, on a mission to gather what remaining data they could for their company and then erase everything to cover their tracks. They only took what was of great importance, all personal e-mails and anything else deemed useless was left behind, knowing all terminals would eventually be destroyed.
The Man smiled to himself as he walked with hands behind his back along the row of techs seated at the panels observing their progress, which was going along as planned. He only brought along his best techs and when they were through, those bastards at Umbrella would have no idea what hit them.
Moving towards the end of the row, he happened across a tech named Hewlett, who like the other techs wore a black sneaking suit that made him look more like a ninja than a commando. A small laptop sat at his side connected to the mainframe and at the moment a bunch of miscellaneous jargon that only the finest hacker could understand ran down the screen. Deciding it was time for a status report he crept up behind the man and cleared his throat.
Immediately, the hacker jumped upon recognizing his voice and nervously looked up to The Man standing tall over him.
"Ah Mr. Hewlett, I do believe I placed you in charge of monitoring security am I right?" the man spoke looking up towards the numerous monitors.
"Yes sir, so far I have managed to secure the holding pens, meaning our men should be safe from any additional dangers, but will still have to put up with those creatures that managed to escape," the tech reported pushing his large glasses back into position and resuming his previous duties.
"Good and how is Mr. Cavanaugh's progress coming about? Are you still following him through the security system?"
Hewlett took his hands away from the laptop and focused again on the control panel in front of him. Typing in a few commands he brought up the video feed showing the career criminal also known as "The Red Dragon" torching a few more zombies with his flamethrower before pulling out his katana sword and chopping the survivors into little pieces.
"He's doing well so far sir, but he's getting closer to us as well," the nervousness returning to the tech's voice as he thought of what would probably happen if the career criminal were to find everybody here and the bloodshed that would likely follow.
"You need not worry about him as we will be out of here soon," The Man spoke, sensing his subordinate's fear. Looking at more of the screens he saw his men doing their routines, but he also noticed a few civilians running through the halls fighting for their lives. "Who are those people?"
Hewlett took note of the unknown civilians running around in the facility and typed in the commands that brought up their images. "I don't know, but most of them definitely do not look like Umbrella staff members."
Typing in some more commands, the hacker brought up video feed from the V.A.M. Room, where a youthful-looking officer with short brownish-blonde hair and dressed in one of the newly-issued R.P.D. uniforms with a bloody bandage wrapped around his shoulder blasted a gang of the manufactured zombies with a customized Remington M1100. After killing all of the zombies, the officer then searched the corpse of a U.S.S. soldier lying near the holding tank.
"So it appears one of the R.P.D.'s "finest" has somehow made his way down here," The Man observed with no hint of annoyance like the hacker anticipated.
"Shouldn't we send some of the cleaners after him?" Hewlett asked motioning to The Man's radio.
"That won't be necessary. We are here on a retrieval mission, sending our men after him would be a waste of time. If he crosses our path he will be dealt with accordingly."
Switching over to another feed, the two men observed a young woman wearing a rose-colored vest with "Made in Heaven" stitched in the back blasting a giant mutated moth with flame rounds from an M-79 grenade launcher. Once the mutated insect was vanquished, she reported to a nearby computer where she cut up some mutated maggots and then typed in a command before issuing her fingerprint.
"This feed was actually recorded a few minutes ago and we've analyzed her fingerprint, belonging to one Claire Redfield."
"Redfield…" The Man growled slightly, but kept it low to avoid drawing attention.
"We've also taken note of the fingerprint belonging to the officer in the V.A.M. Room; apparently his name is Leon S. Kennedy and according to records he was a recent recruit for the Raccoon Police Department," Hewlett reported as he brought up another feed, this one of a little girl in a sailor outfit who could be seen crawling into the nearest vent. What she was running from was later revealed as a seven foot tall behemoth in a green trench coat walked into view, stopping to look around before continuing its unknown mission.
The Man suddenly smiled as he recognized the little girl and unknown thoughts ran through his head. His smile broadened as he was shown the next feed, which was of an Asian-American woman in a red cocktail dress staggering through one of the lower halls braced against the nearest wall. A large gash appeared on her side and she kept one hand pressed tightly against it. "I see you never give up, the reason I recruited you for your mission," The Man thought. The nameless woman suddenly stopped and held herself against the wall as she reached for her Browning HP handgun. Two zombified lab workers stumbled into view and were quickly dispatched with shots to their rotting craniums. Moving further down the hall, the woman collapsed to her knees as she discovered the corpse of a security guard and began searching through his pockets for ammo, coming up with two clips and a keycard.
Bringing up the next feed, The Man was greeted by the image of another woman he knew. This woman was another attractive young woman with shoulder-length hair she wore pulled back and wore a yellow jacket with a black skirt. In one hand she held a gun and the other an opened steel briefcase used for transporting hazardous chemicals. She stumbled about with a dazed expression on her face before the men found out what was wrong with her. Convulsing violently, a small organism burst from her chest and disappeared down the hall as quickly as it had appeared.
Reaching for his radio, The Man nearly shouted his order, "Zeta 3, report to the P-9 transport station immediately. There is a body carrying traces of the G-Virus that could do well for our research. Gather your forces and find the body, get it to the nearest transport pronto!"
"Acknowledged, Zeta 3 commencing search!" the retrieval unit's leader replied.
"Monica Lewis…" The Man spoke silently, "You always were a troublesome wench when you worked for me. Unfortunately, your independence and brashness have cost you dearly." He chuckled coldly at the deceased woman, remembering how she had nearly caused problems for him in the past.
"Well who do we have here?" Hewlett smiled as he brought up the next feed.
A shot was shown from the security locker room, where a familiar-looking blonde hair woman in a white lab coat emerged from one of the lockers after a Licker had made its pass and ran into the nearby hall, where several carriers stumbled about. Raising her pistol, the woman dodged around the zombies and only gunned down those who stood directly in her way.
"Annette Birkin, long time no see," The Man smirked, "Where is she headed for?"
"I'm tracking her now, apparently she's heading for the P-4 laboratories, William's old stomping grounds," Hewlett spoke looking back to the man and smirking before returning his attention to the monitors.
Moving down to the B5 level, the two men were given another video feed where another young officer, this one slightly older with shaggy reddish-brown hair just past his ears and wearing an outfit similar to Leon Kennedy's, ran down a hallway being chased by two MA-121s, or as they were more commonly referred to as "Hunters." As soon as he had made enough distance, the officer turned around and raised a Franchi SPAS-12 assault shotgun, firing several blasts before managing to take down one of the creatures with a blast to the face and wounding the other before putting it out of its misery. As the officer had his back to the camera, The Man took notice that the cop strangely had an Oriental-looking talisman hanging from his uniform. Finishing off the two Hunters, the man entered an adjoining hallway, where he happened across a wounded younger man and talked briefly to him before he was given a Desert Eagle .357 magnum handgun.
"That man looks familiar, but from where I can't put my finger on it," The Man spoke eyeing the cop closely.
Lastly, there was a younger blonde-haired woman in a once elegant red business suit that had been ruined by the filth she had endured over the past few days. Strapped to her back was a dark brown knapsack and in her hands a SPAS-12 shotgun similar to what the second cop had carried. The woman explored a small chemical storage room where she rifled through the shelves looking for anything of use, finding two boxes of 9mm. bullets, a battery, a yellow chemical bottle and another bottle filled with unknown content, loading all objects into the backpack before she searched the rest of the room. Some debris fell from the ceiling and the woman jumped backward as another Re3 fell from the ceiling. Raising the shotgun, she quickly fired three blasts into the creature's sinewy body before running up to it and firing a final blast into its head, killing it for good.
"I know that woman," The Man spoke with an air of disgust, "The bitch's name is Alyssa Ashcroft, she's some hotshot reporter with the Raccoon Press who had tried to cause a lot of trouble for me in the past. Thankfully at the time I had friends in high places that covered for me, but still, a problem left untouched will only continue to fester until it is eliminated."
"If we have a member of the press running about in this facility during our operation, then shouldn't she be dealt with immediately?" Hewlett asked, knowing of the abundant conspiracy theories circulating in regards to the Umbrella Corporation and its rivals. "Who knows what she could dig up if she were to encounter any of our troops."
The Man did not reply and stared at one of the cameras placed in an empty corridor, where the creature that had burst from Monica Lewis's chest scurried up a shaft following its sense of smell. "Somehow I don't think she will be much of a problem any longer."
A loud crackle distracted the man from his current train of thought and he picked up his radio. "What is it?" he asked patiently while trying to view the screens at the same time.
"Sir, this is Gold Squad. We have located the samples, found in the Level B-9 chemical storage facilities. We encountered serious resistance, but now seem to have things under control. All samples appear to be intact and good to go. Awaiting orders!" a voice reported from the other end.
Hewlett switched to a camera in the Level B-9 chemical storage facility, where several commandos stood with freshly smoking rifles. The room was littered with the corpses of zombies, Lickers, Hunters and even a few Lurkers and Eliminators that had been sighted at the Marcus Estate during the incident back in late July. There were a few corpses of his own men in the room as well, but he could only pick out three not including the wounded trooper who was currently being tended to by the company's medic.
Gold Squad was the best of his squadrons, so naturally he expected that they would probably the only unit able to handle a crisis of that magnitude. These men were the best of the best, all survivors of previous skirmishes with Bio-Organic Weapons who had lived on to relate the horrors of their previous experiences to fresh rookies and their very own fellow survivors. Despite the high volatility of their assignments, the unit had a very low mortality rate with three deaths and one wounded being a very high number for them.
"Hope they're not getting soft on me," The Man remarked thinking of the statistic. He watched as the unit's computer expert approached the nearby locked cupboards and pulled out his hacking device, typing in a few codes before the electronic locks were deactivated and ten of the surviving members began sifting through the contents removing several canisters, while two others helped the wounded man out of the room.
"Check up on the progress of our other units," The Man ordered leaning closer to the monitors. Hewlett's fingers flew across the keyboard and within seconds they were viewing several images from scattered intervals throughout the facility.
In one of the many desolate ducts, a wounded researcher sat in the corner clutching an injury on his side when two troopers stormed into the room and ended his life in a bloody hail of bullets. Another feed cut to a desolate corridor just in time to witness a researcher having his head swallowed whole by another Ivy and then bloody bone fragments spat onto the metal flooring. Two more Umbrella researchers were gunned down in cold blood by the merciless commandos and in the next room over, another researcher ran away from a trio of commandos only to end up torn apart by a pack of rabid carriers. In a blood-drenched break room, a lone zombie feasted away on the mangled remnants of a former co-worker, chilling the hacker's bones as it looked up with its soulless gaze and bloody chunks dripping from its mouth. All screens displayed images of Umbrella personnel being beaten down in their quest for survival.
"Worthless slugs," The Man callously chuckled, an unbreakable smile crossing his features at the sight of his hated enemies suffering from their own stupidity. His gaze was now fixed on a camera in the B7F Experimentation Room, where two of his henchmen stumbled across the zombified corpse of a young Asian-American woman lying facedown on the dull surface among the corpses of several researchers. One of the men knelt down and searched the pockets of her green hooded sweatshirt and her blue jeans until he produced a red and black Umbrella ID card.
"Sir, we've managed to ID one of the corpses, a Yoko Suzuki of the Raccoon Umbrella branch," the trooper reported, "According to her card, she's a pretty high-level researcher around here. What the hell's up with that? The lady looks like a regular college student!"
"Never mind that, soldier. Continue with your task!" The Man ordered.
Before the man could set down his radio, a frantic message blared over the radios, stopping all commandos and techs present from their current duties.
"Commander Karkian, can you hear me? This is Captain Almasy of Delta Unit, we are under attack! Repeat, we are under attack by some unknown monstrosity that has already ripped up a whole bunch of my men! We need backup immediately!" Captain Almasy called out, his transmission riddled with gunfire, dying screams and savage growls.
"This is Commander Karkian, give us your position immediately!" the Commander shouted from behind the man and rushing over to Hewlett, "Give me a video feed on Delta Unit's last known position! Now!"
Hewlett scrambled frantically across his keyboard until he came across the B6 Testing Facilities, where a large beast tore through several commandos. All of the techs and even the hardened commandos could only stare silently with mouths agape in horror at what they saw.
An eleven foot tall beast made up of purplish-blue skin and covered in red tumors eviscerated four heavily-armed commandos at once using four arms that ended with three-foot long blades. In the center of the beast's chest was a wide open maw surrounded by a line of large fangs dripping acidic saliva. With little effort, the beast scooped up a commando it had already wounded with a slash across the chest and shoved it into its waiting orifice, biting down on the hapless trooper countless times until dismembered limbs rained down upon his butchered colleagues.
"Almasy, are you still there?" Commander Karkian shouted into his radio.
Tense silence filled the room until the captain's reply came, "Yeah Karkian, I'm here! We need backup immediately, my squad is now down to myself and four other men and there is no way in Hell we're going to be able to down this freak ourselves! We need help!"
Commander Karkian looked around to his fellow commandos and was about to speak until his radio was snatched away from him and crushed by The Man's powerful clamping grasp.
"What are you doing?" Commander Karkian shouted, "Those men are dying out there! They need our help!"
Before the Commander could protest any further, a black-gloved hand wrapped around his neck and squeezed down on his windpipe until the commando gasped for air, his face turning bright blue and eyes bulging out beneath his gas mask.
"I am in charge of this operation Commander; you will do as I say!" The Man growled, peering through the commando's goggles and into his steely gray eyes beneath, glaring daggers into his soul before he finally released him and let him fall back nearly knocking over another tech. Fiercely staring to the other subordinates present, the mysterious individual picked up his own radio and spoke.
"Pull back immediately, that's an order!"
"But sir…" Captain Almasy called out from the other end, cut off once again.
"Pull your troops out immediately! That's an order! We are dealing with the situation from back here in the control center. Just get your men out of there and to the nearest rendezvous point!"
The Man lowered his radio and turned his attention to the other workers, "All of you, get back to your positions immediately! We will be pulling out soon, but first we have some loose ends to tie up."
He then returned his attention to the camera from the B6 Testing Facilities, where the large mutant impaled another commando on one of its sets of claws and then flung the dying man across the room. Looking beyond the carnage he spotted a blast door that Captain Almasy and three other men were retreating through. The rest of the massive room appeared to be blocked off by impenetrable blast doors as well.
"Lower that door now," The Man ordered, hoping the creature's claws wouldn't be able to slash through the reinforced steel. Without a word, Hewlett began hacking into the function to lower the lone opened blast door and quickly the door began to lower. The sound of groaning hydraulics caught the mutant's attention and it charged towards the door at full speed, being knocked backwards as its head collided with the steel surface. Letting out a ferocious cry unheard due to the lack of audio, the mutant began thrashing away at the steel door.
"That should hold it until we blow this place sky high," The Man spoke to Hewlett and then turned to the other subordinates. "Start packing up and prepare to move out. We've gotten what we've come for and now we have other places to be." He then turned his attention back to the monitor displaying the woman in the red cocktail dress, "Keep a close eye on her, we may have to pick her up before we can pull out."
Before moving on, The Man took one last look at Jake Cavanaugh, who by now was moving through the corridor leading to the P-4 laboratory, cutting a path through a mass of undead with his katana in one hand and silenced pistol in the other.
"So far you have proven to be a worthy investment Cavanaugh, don't let me down and I can make you a very wealthy man."
Brushing past some jogging commandos, he made his way back to the desk he had been giving orders from, where a large black briefcase rested, locked by a code only he knew. Typing the code into the side panel, the case clicked open and The Man was greeted by rows of fresh hundred dollar bills, numbering ten million dollars when counted in its entirety.
"You would be a fool not to accept my offer Cavanaugh. You might think you are something now, but you're not. Only I can make you into something."
The Man then shut the briefcase and looked into the palm of his gloved hand. "There will be no refusing this offer either. Doing so will result in your own demise. I know you are an intelligent man Mr. Cavanaugh and you will do what is right for you, or else…"
Snatching up a small pyramid paperweight, he squeezed it in the palm of his hand and within seconds ground it into sawdust.
The Man watched as the career criminal entered the room where Claire Redfield had just exterminated the giant moth and anxiously anticipated what would happen next.
Author's Note: Hey all hope you just enjoyed my latest installment of "Darkness Arises." Well if you've read previous chapters and read the dialogue closely then I'm sure you'd probably all have an idea of who "The Man" is. I won't reveal his identity until later on, but yes he is a major part of the plot.
I'm sorry to all the Yoko fans out there, but I've done away with her and I plan on making a side story to DA to explain her fate along with the fates of the other Outbreak survivors. Getting back to Yoko, this is kind of a spoiler, but if you play single player mode in "Resident Evil: Outbreak" and don't play as Yoko, you will encounter a zombie version of her in the lab which you must gun down, that's kind of what inspires her death right there for this story.
Other than that, read and review and SPREAD THE SICKNESS, ONE MIND AT A TIME! \m/