Chapter 5: Monsters Gonna Dance

We broke into a sprint to evade the Tyrant. I was familiar with most models but that particular model was a mystery to me. The thing was wrapped in a black coat with metallic shoulder pads and steel belts. It was more relentless compared to the Tyrants in-game considering it ran instead of marched. I glanced back and a large sign hurdled towards us.

"Leon, duck!"

He spun out of the sign's way. The wooden frame splintered against the wall with a resounding crash. Where's a damn rocket launcher when you need it! Sweat beaded and fell in tendrils down Leon's face. Jeanette buried her face into his back and I could already tell his pace was slowing down. Dammit all!

If I didn't do something that damn Tyrant would be chasing us all day. However, I couldn't be sure I wouldn't slip into old habits and expose myself.

I finally pulled the handgun Leon lent me from my jacket and swung him towards the right of a forked hall. I stood my ground and shot a few rounds at the Tyrant. Bullets ricocheted off his head like the damn thing had a titanium dome and caused a few of the lights to go out in the process.

"J.D?" Leon screamed towards me.

Before he could attempt to regroup, I waved a salute with two fingers and sprinted in the opposite direction. Tyrant quickly stomped after my happy ass and flipped more displays out of his way to reach me. Oh, good boy! Tyrant, want a treat? Cool! Great! I had a damn Tyrant on my ass. Now what?!

Instinctively, I had run to the open section of the mall where concerts and photo-ups during holidays would be set up. My boots squeaked against the linoleum when I skidded to a stop. An enormous horde of zombies stood around like they were tripping bollocks. They spotted me and I jumped into a tucked roll. Tyrant swung into the crowd like a bowling ball to bowling pins.

Blood splattered onto my clothes and the beige floor. I nearly slipped on the smears of blood when I tried to bolt away to safety. Zombies crowded towards me and Tyrant was happily smacking the twats out of his way. Bodies flew high onto the second-floor balconies and crashed into storefronts while I lured the daft experiment into clearing the crowd for me. It was a high-stakes game of tag at that point.

How do I lose this bugger? I pounced off a zombie's back onto the vacant stage. Heavy spotlights had been set up overhead for some reason. Oh right, that damn Halloween costume competition. Ha, my buddy over here wins hands down! Tyrant wasted no time to join me on stage and I silently prayed to Lady Luck I had enough ammo for what needed to be done.

I ducked under an attempted punch and shot over his head, straight into the heavy stage lights. The bullets bounced every which way as I danced around the damn Tyrant. Zombies continued to climb onstage as well. Are they getting better coordinated?

Tyrant was handy slapping the unwanted guests off-stage. No way he was going to let anyone cut in our dance. I flipped into aerials to avoid his grasp but I miscalculated one of my jumps. Bastard caught me mid-air by the head and dangled me over an increasing crowd of zombies. His grip started to tighten on my head, the pressure like excruciating clamps against the temples. I shot blindly overhead until there was a crash of weakened hinges.

This is gonna hurt!

I shut my eyes tight and braced for the tremendous amount of steel about to fall on my tiny, five-foot frame. It had been years since I suffered any kind of physical trauma. Pain initially exploded through my body and continued to ebb like a relentless wave. The weight was nearly impossible to deal with and the random fixture pierced into my abdomen was unbearable. Luckily, the Tyrant was having a worse time if the several sockets and fixtures embedded into his chest had anything to say about it.

Our blood spilled onstage into a singular pool and I struggled to lift the beam off me. The metal retracted from my gut with a sickening fleshy sound while I struggled to lift it. Stragglers got excited from the scent of fresh blood and ran clumsily towards me. Despite my weakness, I managed headshots on the three remaining zombies. I better move.

I tried to stand and the agony ripped a scream from my chest. Damn fractures! I needed to gain distance before the Tyrant woke up from its nap. Hopefully, it hadn't sustained enough damage to start a mutation. I hopped onto my good leg and clung to whatever furniture and columns I could to stabilize myself. I hobbled off the stage only to fall face-first onto the ground. Tears built up along the waterline and the discomfort radiated up my nose straight into my cranium. Seriously, e tu gravity?

I growled while I hauled myself back to my feet and took refuge in a clothing store. Some of the clothes strewn about proved useful to tie around my waist to stop the bleeding. I sat behind the cashier counter while I applied pressure to my wound. My body started to feel cold. It was difficult to keep my eyes open. The sweat was cold on my back and forehead. I choked back the urge to sob from the soreness and took a second to inspect my handgun, there were only two bullets left in the magazine. I laughed to myself. After a while, I couldn't even feel the pain, just the cold. I took a deep breath and let my head lull back against a cabinet.


My lucky ass woke up, startled, to an eerily quiet store. Shit, I passed out. Blood had dried uncomfortably and left my clothes stiff. I lifted my shirt tentatively and the gaping wound had shrunk to a manageable size. As soon as I stood up, I staggered backward from the lightheadedness. A case of bullets sat on the blood-soaked counter as if they had been there from the start. I could almost imagine the glimmer like they were legitimately shining in the game. What the fuck? Who?

Not only 9mm bullets, but also bandages and disinfectants had appeared out of thin air. Chills ran cold up my spine and I looked for any signs of a spectator. The smell of decay and blood was too strong to pinpoint any individual scent. Why? I cared for the wounds first. I am being watched, by who though? I slid the bullets into the magazine.

Jacky still needed saving but there was also the issue of a mini-me palling around with Leon. There was no way to know for sure where those two were so Jacky would have to be the first priority. If I were lucky, which I usually was not, I could end up running into Leon and Jeanette along the way. I could get the little devil off his back, literally, and leave her with Bennett at the evacuation point.

I limped out of the store and pulled out the map to reorient myself. There was a service elevator I could ride to the third floor from inside the largest department store in the mall. From there, I could use the staff corridors to get to the fifth floor and bail Jacky out. I hope she's still breathing. Bloody fingerprints soaked into the map and I wobbled towards the target department store. I was freezing. The sweat on my body was still cold and I could hardly break into a light jog if I needed it. I had lost too much blood. Yeah, I'm going to die today.

Hallways were littered with bodies; some even wore the yellow and orange firemen uniforms. Those poor men and women lost their lives trying to save others. Whoever released Resident Evil to the world must not have a damn soul to speak of. The surrounding stores were either completely trashed or in the process of closing shutters, many could not barricade themselves in time by the looks of things. Music looped popular songs faintly throughout the morning and the mall was like a George A. Romero parody. Decay hung in the air, a distinct bitterness of disease, and the festering filled my mouth with each breath. The setting was regrettably too familiar for my liking.

The wounds throbbed like timed crashes of low tide. My chest felt tight from the image of Jeanette clinging to Leon's back and how defenseless I left them both. Not to mention, Jacky had been trapped inside a storage room all morning with people potentially infected from inhaling the smoke earlier. My teeth clenched so tight a sharp discomfort stabbed at my jaw and the crunch of gnashed enamel was loud in my head. The threat of tears stung my eyes. I was a civilian, not that 'wolf,' but she sure as hell would be handy if she hadn't landed me in my predicament in the first place. As usual, I had a talent for getting people hurt or worse.

The heavenly scent of coffee pulled me from my thoughts. A lone cup sat on a random table outside of a café, still intact and warm enough to comfort. I hobbled as fast as I could and sat down to chug the coffee down. A snap of bones and I nearly spat the last drop from the agony. Great timing me! My fractures and breaks had finally healed and left my leg throbbing from soreness. I was content from the warmth radiating in my belly. I wish the cheeky agent would magically appear again. There was an uncontrollable yearning to get stuck with Leon again. The whole situation didn't feel so bad with the sexy cheese ball around. I laughed aloud at the image of a literal sexy cheese ball then stopped at the sound of a flipped safety.

"So you survived. Impressive," the way he practically purred like a deadly Cheshire Cat sent goosebumps along my skin.

"So you're my secret admirer?" I stood up slowly with my hands up and turned to the towering hunk of black leather and hair gel.

"I was curious to see what our guests saw in you. Consider my interest piqued," Wesker unleashed the full force of his arrogant smirk.

I would've swooned if I hadn't already known Tab would've fought me to the death for the male, maybe. Who am I kidding? I'm definitely swooning. Shit. I like 'em bad too.

"Tell me, what do you know about this?" Wesker tossed a box to my feet and I nearly burst from laughter and anxiety at the sight of the Resident Evil 5 box.

"Uh, am I supposed to know anything about it?"

Instantly, he pinned me to the nearest wall by my neck. My feet dangled and I struggled to get some damn air.

Though Wesker's eyes were hidden behind sunglasses, they were definitely piercing my gaze. "You fight bio-weapons with very little fear and you addressed me too casually. You must have some knowledge."

"Whoa, hold on. Maybe I'm just too loony to be scared?"

"I want answers. Now," he tightened his grip, the leather gloves strained against imposing knuckles.

How am I supposed to answer you without air, you fucking twat! I growled and struggled under his grip. "Why... Would… I have… your damn answers!" I spat between gasps of air.

"Who is testing you?"

"Why… do you care!?"

"Because you interest me."

Shit. Alright, I was not into choking and the heat in my core shot through my limbs like a wave. I punched into the crook of his elbow and kneed his chin. Thankfully, it caught him off-guard and I rolled away into a full sprint. My damn throat was tender from his vice grip and felt like a hot clamp was wrapped around my esophagus when I breathed. Of course, it would not be that easy to escape the beast.

Wesker caught up. He kicked at my heels and slammed his arm into an armbar against my chest simultaneously. The back of my head throbbed the instant I fell on my skull. I was seeing stars but managed to clasp his wrist when he reached for me. I wrapped my legs around his arm. Damn asshole was strong enough to lift me off the ground then smashed me onto a wall. I clung to him despite the abuse. When I had the split-second chance I pressured his elbow with my pelvis and his arm broke.

The crunch of his breaking bones washed warmly over me. His agonized yell filled my chest with pride and I couldn't hide the smirk when he glared at me with blaring red eyes behind shades.

"What are you?" he snarled.

"A Scorpio if you really wanna know."

Wesker growled and slammed his palm into my chest. I flew back into a storefront. I curled up into a ball to avoid falling glass from piercing anything vital. Shit, that's going to draw attention!

He gripped the lapels of my leather jacket, glass chimed discordantly as they fell off me and shattered on the floor. Wesker tossed me into a set of double doors. My body rolled into the corridor, it was acutely sore and tired from the punishment. He gripped my shoulders and pinned me to a wall.

"You're not in the best shape. It would be wiser to cooperate," he exhaled and looked to me at eye level.

"Bite me, psycho," I snarled.

His fingers found the wound in my abdomen and proceeded to agitate it. I growled against the stinging.

"What do you know about the game?" Wesker pressed harder when I refused to answer.

"You son of a bitch! Can't you ask nicely?"

"I did."

"You call pointing a gun to my head nice?! You've got problems." His fingers actually ripped through the bandages into my wound and elicited a genuine scream. "Stop!"

"Will you cooperate?"

I nodded with teary eyes and Wesker let up a bit. I headbutt his nose and a stream of blood burst down his lips. "I don't respond well to torture," my voice slithered between my teeth and I push-kicked at his gut.

He fell back hard against the wall. The plaster caved under his weight and I ran down the corridor. I'm fucking screwed. Too bad I did not get too far, footsteps boomed heavily against the carpet. An odor of infected blood wafted into the hall and the damn Tyrant had made his way around the corner. I spun around and Wesker smirked maliciously at the situation.

"What the predicament," he cackled then snapped his nose back into its proper position.

I dodged the swing from the Tyrant, grit my teeth against the ache, and used the wall to launch myself onto its back. The maneuver was going to take all the energy I had. I gripped my legs around his neck and squeezed with my thighs. Tyrant stumbled around clumsily trying to grab me but the poor bugger wasn't exactly flexible. He opted to smash himself against walls. I closed my eyes tight to focus on cutting off his air. The mistreatment left me lightheaded but I needed to take the bastard out without provoking a mutation.

Tyrant smashed into a section of halls that housed extra storage for nearby stores. He pummeled me against walls, doors, wooden pillars. His arms started to flail and he was at the end of his rope. Tyrant noticed a fixture that would usually get screwed to a wall to hang clothes from and ran towards it full force. The steel broke cleanly through my left shoulder and my scream echoed hollowly in the storage rooms. I squeezed as tightly as I could and the Tyrant fell languidly to his knees. While the Tyrant struggled, Wesker walked into the room with a stoic expression.

It finally fell. I pulled out the fixture from my shoulder and smashed it into the Tyrant's head several times, probably more than necessary. The crunch of his cranium sent satisfying jolts up my arms. A rumble in my chest threatened to burst from my throat. I choked back the impulse and pulled away from the bloody carnage of skull fragments and brain matter. The lights were going dim and my limbs were weightless from the exhaustion. My arms and legs were practically useless and I hardly registered the look on Wesker's face when he carried me out the storage rooms.

"Not bad, not bad at all. However, you could learn to emerge unscathed next time."

"Bite me, Blondie," I muttered.

"Hm, perhaps if you ask nicely."

What did he say?!