Nb: Hello everyone! This story is a big thank you to all of you who have read and supported me on my journey into Resident Evil fanfiction =) After this there will be one more Resident Evil story as a big thank you from me. The following story was inspired by the classic Rebbeca and I take no credit for Resident evil or Rebecca =) I am hoping to update weekly, but it may be a little later as I am quite busy at the moment =) anyway, I hope you all enjoy the story!
(Then)
When they were children, they had peered down the dark staircase. He had stood behind her as he had always done, always in her shadow. He watched her small hand as she pointed to the darkness.
"As I said, father forgot to lock the door so I thought I would take a look. Well, I thought we would take a look..But.." The apprehension in her voice was as clear crystal, as sharp as glass. "...I thought we could go and look together?"
Her apprehension terrified him.
He looked at the back of her head with a helpless expression, he looked over her shoulder with an expression of fear.
"Do..We really need to go down there?" He asked in a voice that was barely above a whisper.
She turned to look at him, her blonde hair glowed around her. Her eyes, her eyes that looked wise beyond their years were now clouded by an emotion he had never seen on her before. Relief.
"Not today, I suppose." She said with a small smile. "Especially if you're so scared."
"I am really, really scared!" He replied with a small, self conscious giggle.
"Well then," His sister chuckled. "We'll just have to explore when you're braver, won't we?" She clapped her hands together. "Now then, let's go and bury that useless hamster.. You haven't forgotten, have you?"
He shook his head. He had not forgotten about Sargent Squeaking and his valiant sacrifice in the name of science, he could never forget with the week long stench of decay that lingered in the spare room that they hid him in. He turned and started to walk away. He paused when he realised his sister was not following him.
She stood in the same place and gazed into the darkness. When he approached her, she spoke. "A time will come when we will explore down there, brother."
He gulped and thought. 'That is what I am afraid of.'
Outwardly however, he asked quietly. "When, sister?"
"Oh I don't know, Alfred! Maybe tomorrow, maybe years from now.. But we'll explore it together."
She walked over to the door and closed it gently.
"The Dark Place." She whispered as the door shut with a click.
...
(Now)
Alfred Ashford walked without aim or reason through the halls of his residence, he gripped a flashlight within his hands and waved it around with a strange level of detachment towards his surroundings.
His expression was blank and almost statuesque, his blue eyes were dulled and emotionless. To an outside observer, Lord Ashford resembled a sleep walker who was trapped within a dream.
His bare feet slapped the cold floor in a steady rhythm and his dressing gown billowed around his body like a shroud. His skin looked almost bloodless, as though it was made from polished ivory. His blonde hair was disheveled and his lips were bitten raw.
Now and then he stopped and shone the beam of the flash light into vervious places, his eyelids fluttered with a nervous tic as the light distorted the shadows and made them dance and leer.
A flash of long blonde hair filled his vision and Alfred sprinted after it, his face warped with desperation.
The honey soaked tendrils led him towards the gardens and the scent of flowers almost threatened to overpower him. Choke him. Destroy him.
'Oh, how she loves flowers!' He thought to himself before he opened the doors that led to the garden.
She stood within the garden, far more lovely then Aphrodite. The flowers surrounded her like loving suitors, like selfish lovers.
He opened his mouth to speak and the rising sun caused him to flinch with pain.
The light had caused her to vanish from his sight as though she had never stood there, as though she were nothing more then a trick of the light.
He threw the flashlight to the ground and screamed.
...
He turned the tap off and on, over and over. He watched the steam as it floated out of the bathtub like a vengeful ghost, just like he did every morning. Every lonely and dark morning after he had spent another sleepless night in pursuit of his sister's shade. Her shadow. Her ghost.
Every night she haunted him, taunted and teased him. Every day without her left him drained, defeated and worn. Every day looked a little bit darker then the last, the shadows more pronounced and the warm colours of his residence had grown ever more dull.
He had started to see things in black and white, dull, lifeless and dead. Those were bad days, dark days, when he floated in a sea of grayscale rooms. When he writhed in a world of monochrome.
Those days had became more frequent as time marched on and he feared that he would soon lose his ability to see colours forever, once he lost that he knew he would never find her.
His flashlight, with its artificial golden light, would be rendered useless. It would never again force the shadows into banishment, never again chase away the darkness that haunted him.
The darkness that threatened to devour him.
The darkness that hid her from him.
Her face appeared in the reflection of the water as though it was channelled by his thoughts, it was distorted by the water. Without any thought, he plunged his hand into the bathtub in an attempt to reach her. For a brief second, he had felt the silky sensation of her hair.
Her face faded away and he became aware of the heat of the water, he pulled his hand out and gazed at the reddened flesh. Boiled like a lobster.
"Another consolation prize." He muttered.
..
"I will find you..." He murmured as he watched the steam that rose from the water in grey tendrils, like trapped ghosts and warped memories.
"...I will find you...In the Dark Place, my Sweet sister. "
(Chapter end)