File #7

Banishing the Banshee

I immediately dodged the banshee's lunge. It was a little too close for comfort and one of her long nails raked across my back. I yelled in pain, turned to face her and unloaded a few shots into her. My shots were on target…but they didn't phase her in the slightest. Dammit. The banshee let out a mirthless laugh and launched at me again. This time I was able to fully dodge out of the way. When she lunged past me, I saw that there was a gunshot wound on the tip of her shoulder. Oh so she must have been the one who yelled in pain back during my initial escape. Or was it a guy's voice? I don't really remember to be honest. I had kinda been more worried about getting out of that room alive y'know?

"COME TO ME ZACK!" The Banshee screamed in my general direction.

"No thanks…sis!" I said before I could stop myself. One because this thing was a Banshee and that reminded me of Jenna and two, my uncle is Leon S. Kennedy. While not related to me by blood, he was always present in my life. Due to the fact that Dad and Auntie Claire were incredibly close. The Banshee screamed her terrible scream once more and, yet again, lunged at me. But I had been quicker with my own tactic. Flashbang. I slammed one on the ground near my feet and dove out of the way. After the ringing in my ears stopped, I peeked around the corner to see the Banshee shielding her eyes and yelling in annoyance.

"A LOUSY TRICK! WHERE ARE YOU! I WILL SEND YOU TO YOUR FAMILY IN PIECES!" she yelled and blinked her glowing eyes as if she was just regaining the use of them. Dammit. I need a plan! Think Zack, THINK! What did Jenna tell you was the weakness of a banshee?! Obviously, bullets won't work anymore…which really doesn't explain the gunshot wound on her shoulder. Hang on…that didn't look like a gunshot wound now that I was able to get a longer look at it as I moved from hiding spot to hiding spot (you know, my speciality?). It looked more like someone stabbed her in the shoulder with something. And then it hit me. IRON. Banshees don't like iron! I started to look around for anything made of iron and, to my utter astonishment…there was an old fashioned clothes iron on the ground next to me. I quickly picked it up and was surprised by the initial weight it had. I waited until the Banshee's back was turned before I hurled it full force at the back of her head. My aim was true and it connected and knocked her flat on her face. It took her several seconds to recover from it and when she did so, she turned to see me standing there with crossed arms.

"Boo," I said. Before she could retaliate, I let off a few shots from my Stg44 to distract her before I dove into another room and spied one of the greatest things I could have laid eyes on at this exact moment…besides my family and friends that is. A fuck mothering SHOTGUN. It again looked like an older model from the 2020s but still. What kind of shotgun was it? My friend, it was a Benelli M4. One of Italy's finest. Can you say "semi-automatic 12-gauge shotgun?" CAUSE I CAN. There was even a box of shells next to it. But wait…how was I going to be able to hold 3 long guns all at once? It was getting a bit difficult to move with the 2 I already had. Upon further inspection of the room, I noticed a few things. One, there was an old typewriter sitting on a table and some kind of chest in one of the corners and two, the Banshee had not bothered to enter this room for some reason. No idea why. I walked over to the chest and opened it. Inside was another first aid spray which I took because I was running low on first aid supplies. I decided that the rifle wasn't really needed at this point so I stored it and the ammo for it in the chest and went to grab the shotgun. No traps either. I checked the chamber to see if there was already ammo in the weapon. There was. I smirked to myself as I leveled the shotgun and kicked open the door.

The Banshee was waiting for me alright. She had tried to take a chunk out of my face as I walked a few steps from the door. She missed but I didn't. The shotgun shell blasted her back several feet and she even smashed into the opposite wall. That actually looked like it did some damage as well. I could see steam rising from parts of her body where the slugs had impacted. She of course didn't like that and resorted to her tactic that has already worked out so well for her thus far. Lunging at me with her sharp claws. Unfortunately, she had caught me with a feint and managed to claw my back up pretty bad. As I grimaced in pain, she in turn was licking my blood off her fingers and moaning in pleasure. Why?! Why are these people so fucked in the head?! Jesus Christ Grim what did you do to these poor people?! I threw another flashbang at the Banshee as she was *ahem* enjoying herself and I began looking for another iron weapon. Again, I managed to spy one laying nearby (man, talk about luck coincidences huh?) and this one happened to be…a scythe. Perfect. I picked it up and quickly tested the sharpness of the blade.

"Ahh!" I instinctively said as the blade cut through my finger. My small exclamation of pain had alerted the Banshee to my location however…but I was ready for her this time. I simply stood there as she screamed in triumph and I will admit the look of sheer insanity on her face was a little scary. She jumped straight at my neck this time…only for me to step aside and bring the blade of the scythe in a quick upward motion where I felt it cut through something. That something happened to be the neck of the Banshee. Her body continued sailing forward but her now decapitated head flew into the air and hit the ground a few feet in front of me. The expression on the face no longer had the insane smile but rather a look of utter shock. Before I did anything else, I quickly kicked the head over to where the body now lay and threw one of my incendiary grenades on it. Another thing Jenna had told me about banshees is that if you burn their bones, that would put them to rest permanently. This proved to be true as the body started flailing wildly and the head let out one final scream of agony as the banshee's remains crumbled into ash and was scattered by the howl of the wind.

The first thing I did before exploring the rest of the house, was pick up the keycard on the ground and place it in my key items pocket. Then I started looking around for useful items. I found a few more grenades, some pistol ammo, a few green herbs and some documents. One of which was the invitation from Grim to join him and his insane cult. Another was a photo of 2 young Irish people. One of them looked like the banshee that I had just killed but instead of looking like literal death, she looked happy and content with her life. The man next to her had similar features so it must have been her brother or something. On the back it read "Clío and Declan. Age 22." Huh, so these 2 must be twins or something. Wonder what happened to them. That question was answered almost immediately when I found a death certificate and a newspaper article under an old looking teddy bear. I decided to read the death certificate first. It told me about the death of Declan at the young age of 30. Apparently he had died in a horrific motorcycle crash and was…decapitated. Jesus. Reluctantly, I decided to read the cut out newspaper article. It was titled "Motorcyclist Dies in Horrific Accident" and was dated some 15ish years ago. The article was short but that still didn't make it any less painful to read. It said;
"A local man, Declan Byrne, 30, died last night after being involved in a high speed crash. He had been going out to dinner to meet his twin sister, Clío Byrne, also 30, before another motorist hit him head on as they were trying to overtake another vehicle. Byrne's bike was recorded as going around 50mph at the time of impact. He died at the scene. The driver of the other vehicle sustained no injuries and will face no charges. Any donations can be made to Clío Byrne and the rest of her family to pay for funeral services." Wait a minute, "face no charges?" The hell is this nonsense! He killed a man! Something else caught my eye. A VHS tape. Yes. I can't believe it either. There was also a TV with a tape slot nearby too…Good Lord. Am I in the 1990s?! The tape was labeled "Revenge." Oh boy. That can't be good. Seeing as I had nothing else to deal with at the moment, I decided to pop the tape in and see what it contained.

It opened on a guy tied to a chair in a dark room like a basement or something. I could hear him crying and begging to be let go.

"SHUT UP! YOU THINK YOU CAN JUST GET AWAY WITH THAT?!" a female voice shouted from out of frame.

"Please…I didn't mean to. I didn't see him! I have a family!" the guy in the chair pleaded.

"SO DID I! HE WAS ALL I HAD LEFT! AND YOU TOOK HIM FROM ME!" the female voice shouted. Soon enough, a woman came into frame. It must have been Clío except she looked extremely disheveled and not at all like the young woman in the photo I had in my other hand.

"What are you going to do to me?!" the man asked.

"Good. Old. Fashioned….REVENGE!" Clío stated and raised what looked like a large sword into frame. I stopped the video before it got to the real nasty part. I even destroyed the tape with a few good stomps as well. I still had the invitation from Grim in my hand too. It contained the promise of reviving Clío's brother to full health if she joined him and his band of goons. Well I mean…that kind of worked. 5 bucks that Dullahan-esque guy I fought outside this house was the revived Declan. That must be what drove Clío to utter insanity. Makes sense. If my sister was killed by decapitation and then revived but still decapitated, I'd go insane too. I looked out the nearby window and said "Rest easy Clío. You are with your brother again." As if on cue, the wind howled in response as if thanking me for releasing her from her pain.

Ran into that Merchant guy again as I left the house. He was more than happy to upgrade my new shotgun for me. He made it so it was faster to reload and do a little more damage. I liked this guy. Always seems to show up whenever I need him most. I decided to take a little bit of a rest in the shadows of a nearby tree after talking to the merchant (he disappeared the moment I turned away again). After making sure there were no more Red-Zombies in the immediate area, I took a few moments to think about what had happened in the past few hours and how everyone was reacting at home. I don't think Jade was back at HQ yet so I would assume everyone thinks I'm dead. I can already imagine how Mom was dealing with that news. Most likely talking to absolutely no one and on the verge of tears at all times. Again, you simply do not understand how much that woman loves her family. According to Dad (and old family friend Barry Burton), Mom's dream the moment she had met my father was to settle down and start a family with him. Granted, after eradicating the world of asshole bioterrorists that is. To an extent, that part kind of worked. There hasn't been an event as grand since the whole C-Virus fiasco back in '13. It's mainly been smaller scale threats. Like just a small area was infected with a new virus or just regular old terrorism. Nothing astronomically bad. This was probably the biggest event to hit the New England area in quite some time. One of my earliest memories involving my mom was me being around 2 or 3 years old. It was just me and Mom as Dad and Jenna were downstairs in the TV room taking a nap together. Mom had just about to start making cookies or something when I told her "Mommy, dat's the wong mixy thingy" after she had grabbed the wrong mixing attachment for those Kitchen-Aid things. She immediately smiled, gave me a big hug and told me that I was such a smart little boy. Here's where it gets a bit embarrassing though…that was the first instance that I can recall where I said I loved her. Best part? Dad had heard me say it as he was walking upstairs with a sleeping Jenna to put her down in her bed. I then proceeded to fall asleep in Mom's arms as she was waiting for whatever she was making to be ready. In the present day, I clenched my fist in anger. I wanted out of this nonsense. I wanted to be back with my family. I wanted to save my father. And to do that I needed one last key. I got up from the ground, dusted myself off and made my way towards what I thought would be one of my last stops.

I came upon what looked like an old style Japanese home. Complete with those screen doors. Honestly, it felt like I had stepped into a Kurosawa samurai film. The Red-Zombies in this area looked more like changed military personnel. I spied members of the Army, Air Force, Navy and even the BSAA. Some of them were carrying swords…they didn't use them effectively but still, they were wielding them. I eventually came upon a sword sitting atop a pedestal. On closer inspection, the words "Z.. Redfield" were etched onto the scabbard (or if you wanna be technical and pedantic, the saya). Oh boy. There was no way this was going to be any amount of fun. Regardless, I took the sword off its pedestal (and braced myself for any sort of trap to go off…none did) and unsheathed it. It looked finely crafted and sharp. I decided to test its sharpness by swiftly bisecting a nearby Red-Zombie from the waist. It cut through it like butter.

"Huh, nifty" I muttered to myself and I stabbed the blade downward into the still alive Red-Zombie's head. I decided to use the sword to conserve ammo as I was starting to run a bit low and wasn't able to find the same amount of extra bullets like I used too. I did manage to find another room with a typewriter and large chest in it. Cool, that should help. I decided that I was going to store the StG 44 in there and just hold onto the M4 shotgun and my pistol for a while. When I opened the box, I saw that my rifle was in there along with all the ammo.

"What the…" I muttered out loud. Huh, I guess Mom, Dad, Auntie Claire and Uncle Leon weren't kidding when they mentioned "those weird magic chests" in old mission reports I read. All this time, I thought they were making stuff up. It sounded like something Christine would use in one of her stories. Whatever. I'm not questioning things. I've killed a demonic scarecrow, a clown and a banshee today so a chest that just magically has my items in it at all times doesn't seem that weird to me at this moment. I stored my excess weapons and ammo in the chest and went to leave the room but before I did so, I noticed that there was a piece of paper with some writing on it sticking out of the typewriter. I pulled it out and read it. It contained a line of text which read "Do not fear death." Great.

After another short little trek through this area, I eventually came across a figure kneeling in the middle of a small clearing. It's back was to me but in the firelight I recognized the color and style of the armor. I had seen it just a few hours ago as I had been tied to a chair. It was Nobunaga…and as I say that out loud in my head I just now remembered about the real Nobunaga from the Sengoku period of Japan. Nobunaga must have heard me because I saw his head raise and he spoke with a heavy Japanese accent.

"Zackary Redfield. You have arrived at last," he said. I stiffened. That was not the voice I expected to hear. It sounded deep and commanding, almost demonic….which again reminds me of the real Nobunaga's nickname. Oni Daimyo which translates to Demon King. Fantastic. What's this guy gonna do? Attack me with mystical godlike powers?

"You believe I am crazy like all the others. That I too have been corrupted by the man known as Grim. While in the past I was, now I can say I am in my right mind," Nobunaga said and turned to face me. He removed his menpo mask and I saw a scared face but I also noticed that there was no trace of my dad's features anywhere on it.

"I know what you are thinking. That my body has accepted the Red-Virus and its supposed abilities. Again, you are wrong," Nobunaga explained.

"Then why are you still working with Grim," I asked and instinctively placed my hand on the hilt of my sword. Nobunaga sighed deeply.

"I have been working with Grim as an assassin for most of my life. I joined when I had nowhere else to go. I needed money and I did anything for it. Killed, tortured and maimed many innocent lives. I have destroyed countless families in my quest for cash. My family is all but gone. I am all that remains. If they knew what I had done, they would be ashamed of me. I was administered the Red-Virus and I suffered from the side effects my peers did. It amplified my abilities and my need for bloodshed. Eventually, I was able to snap out of it and return to my former self. Your father is still alive but only just. He has about a week left max before the constant blood extracting kills him. Please Zackary, do me the honor of facing me in one last duel. If you win, you may take my keycard and save your father, but if I win, I will have no choice but to bring you to Grim myself in order to keep my cover intact lest he subject me to more tests," Nobunaga explained as he drew his blade. I responded by dropping my firearms on the ground and drawing my own blade.

"I accept your challenge Nobunaga," I said and got into a ready stance. Nobunaga copied me and we stood facing each other in complete silence for a few seconds. Then, at exactly the same moment both of us ran forward, jumped and clashed blades.