Chapter 2. "Police station."

Sparda's shoes scuffed shards of broken glass across the street, fragments that he assumed to be from a destroyed chariot nearby. Or possibly by the larger one that came by earlier.

He put his gun back in the belt holster and continued to walk after the girl. Among the chaos, her scent was still prevalent. He rounded to the left toward a darker pathway. Though he didn't have a problem, his eyes can see fine anything that could try to sneak up on him.

Demons do not need to let their eyes adjust to the dim light. They can adjust at will. Humans had to practice adjustments while it was a simple like flicking a finger for demons.

He saw rows of houses with broken windows. Not one had a candle light amongst them, the ground had broken red flimsy metal cans which were labeled Coke. The others were squashed and unrecognizable. He brushed a can and it rolled to his right.

It rolled as it entered a slight decline. Not like a serious drop, but subtle enough to keep the momentum moving. Sparda glanced over his shoulder and tuned his ears to give a sense of distance the Coke thing echoed. If they proved useful, maybe he should get some.

The demons will not know what hit them.

He rolled his shoulders and each second he moved forward, fire started to appear before his eyes. A cylinder objected connected to the wall, but it was broken under and water leaked from it.

Sparda stopped and took a breath when he heard barking. He saw two burning dogs charging hungrily toward him. One of them darted ahead of the other and lunged toward him. Sparda retaliated with a raised his arm punching the dog in the mouth. He gave it enough force that a several teeth spewed out as it collided with the ground. With his left arm he grabbed the other dog's throat and squeezed it enough that the flesh just turned to mush until Sparda reached the bones. From there, he snapped the neck and dropped the limp creature to the ground.

"Odd behavior with animals too?" He brushed his left hand on his shoulder. Some bone marrow seeped out his fingers a strange feel to them. He should have just kicked the dogs or something.

Suddenly he felt something. The displacement of fiery air that shoved him in the other direction, everything moving too fast to separate. In the middle of it all he heard it, feminine sound screaming... "Sparda!"

He found himself on the ground as the fire destroyed half of the path.

"Eva...!" Not sure if he imagined it.

Sparda pulled himself up again, ready to pass once again. Though he observed the street first to make sure no one is there to see him. They could mistake him with one of these creatures, it had been an insane night.

As he expected the area to be vacant but the sounds of chaos still occurred now and again. He took a breath and went forward over the fire, he passed by the dogs corpses sensing his shoes squashed the organs.

Until he reached what it seemed to be a wide waste-container, Sparda jumped over it and checked his clothes. There was not enough time to char the fabric.

They looked safe enough with the occasional dark spot.

Another odd former human pulled himself up and started shuffling toward him, Sparda pulled his pistol and leveled it at the creature's face.

One bullet and the gurgling, pulpy skull blew apart, blood splattered the ground walls.

"Enough." He whispered and sprinted up ahead.

Through a small door made of steel he found another crashed chariot that seems to be for kings' men of the land. Their lack of armor was swapped out for blue uniforms, he continued in and found himself in place that seems to be for chariots to be left there, until the owners return.

Just the observation of the possible fact that there were loyal warriors capable to fight without armor did not make full sense to him. However, this must mean human skill must have refined in the years since Sparda's day. The thought of such noble warriors, the demons would have something to truly fear again.

The kind of an equipment shed that opened into a tiny courtyard. There! He ran for the door, he touched the handle and turned it slowly. The very first thing he saw is a purple cloth facing him.

"Claire?" He called. "Are you feeling well?"

The girl stirred slightly and gazed back at him. Her face was changed, it looked yellow a bit too much. "Yeah." she uttered heavily, Claire wanted to laugh in happiness for he kept his word and didn't leave her alone in this horrible place. But for some reason she didn't feel too good, like she is coming down with a fever. "How did you find me?" she asked.

"I told you, I will be following behind shortly." He replied. "Is this the kings' men headquarters?"

"Kings' men?" Claire rubbed her forehead. She saw him nod toward a cruiser. "Oh, you mean the police."

"Are they what keep the public order?" Sparda inquired.

"For the most part yeah." Claire looked back to the station. She trembled and struggled slightly to balance herself and stand on her feet. She pulled the pistol from her strap and handed it over to him.

"Thank you." Though she didn't feel like talking more and immediately went for the door to outside. They were in a paved courtyard, a place she known all too well. Several prideful statues overlooked the streets.

The gargoyles of the times.

"What? Aren't those things demons too?"

"Yes, they were but those majestic beasts found solace to be guardians of humans in the ancient times, before me. I think that is what those statues are meant to show. My heart sings at how they are cherished after so long."

'Yeah… he's definitely reading way too much into it.' Claire thought to herself as she walked to the front door.

The door opened then revealed three corpses staggering aimlessly.

"Do not waste your bullets." Sparda whispered and held her hand. He led her to the other side, to the stairs, they were able to avoid the creatures without much trouble.

The halls were the same story with bodies and the police fight to the bitter end. Of the corpses that reanimated to life, Sparda would make it swift for the ones in blue. Claire noticed the change but she did not want to distract him in case something deadlier was around the corner. The walk was not as bad as the streets.

Once the two almost reached the rooftop of the police station then something changed, rough wind pounding rhythmically. Something in the sky hovered into view, almost covered with the darkness of night. It was near flying near another cylinder object like the one he saw before, with water.

"What is this, flying object? An improved chariot?" Sparda asked loudly, though his voice was mostly lost with the noise of the helicopter.

Claire stared at him surprised, is he trying to humor her? What an awkward moment to do that. She waved her hands. "Help us please, over here." She screamed.

There was so much kick up on the dust, specs swirled across the rooftop.

A light was activated for search and it pointed to a spot in the middle of the roof, close to the water tank.

There was an officer, standing at the corner opposite of the stairs, backed against an elevated section of the roof. He held what looked like a machine gun and appeared to be very much alive.

"Get over here. Hurry up already." The officer shouted with panic laced under his pronunciations. Right from the shadows, Claire noticed some corpses approach them.

In mere seconds they heard howling. Corpses took a hold of police officer, sounds of bullets were flying everywhere, high enough to reach the helicopter.

"Elude." Sparda shouted.

Claire went down a few steps and waited. The light of the helicopter were going everywhere wildly and then the sound of a tremendous crash followed.

"Why?" She heard him say once again but with a look of shock. "I do not think this is a safe building."

The two slowly walked over the rooftop and to the door. They found themselves in snaking hallway littered with broken glass, they could hear the sound of crows outside. "Even the animals are odd, be careful."

"Can do..." Claire heaved.

They went past another dead cop, the sight that made her fear what else could happen. She quickly stepped over the body and moved on.

Sparda stopped in the middle.

Claire stopped when he did. "What?"

"I smell something, approaching." He muttered with a smile.

Claire waited for him to move ahead of her. "What a weird guy. From cloths to the way he talks." She mumbled.

The next hallway was suffocating with the smell of a burned metal, it's where the helicopter went through earlier. Once again Claire felt dizziness take over. It was like the world is starting to shake. Over there, feet away there was another door where they could escape through. The door opened into an empty waiting room, a couple of green couches and a rounded counter-desk, with another door across from the one they'd entered by.

Claire staggered ahead for two steps and she felt herself falling. Sparda without hesitation caught her. "You're not well, I saw it before."

"I..." She whispered Sparda put his hand under her knees and carried her to the couch. "My leg."

Sparda touched Claire's face and felt her skin. She was burning up. His eyes trailed down to her legs, perhaps she was wounded. Right there in her left leg was a green-reddish stain with an obvious sign of a bite.

"What happened to you?" He asked but Claire looked disoriented. "There should be something that could help with this, stay here." he continued.

He was about to leave when he felt her touch his hand.

"Don't go." She whimpered.

Sparda stared at the confused girl, not sure what to say. "I will return... I-"

"Don't leave me here, just promise me that."

The look of horror in her eyes stirred something within him.

"Daddy. Please don't go. You promised."

Two young boys around the age of 5 cried in unison as they held onto Sparda's coat.

Sparda closed his eyes and took a deep breath. "You need to rest, I will inspect the building for something to help you."

Still the girl appeared terrified and heart broken, he did not understand why though.

"Dad...!" She blabbed to herself, half asleep.

Once he opened the door, he found himself in the second floor of a wide hall. The stench of something grew stronger, who it could be?

...

A cloaked individual went inside to the police station building and slammed the gate shut behind him and wiped his sweaty forehead slightly, taking a deep breath of the almost fresh air as he scanned the courtyard. There was a grassy park to his right, he could see there were three of the once human creatures reeling, and none close enough to be a threat at-least to him. The guy went in without much worry, he ducked the first zombie's hand and give a small kick to the next, making it fell on his face. The last one was a bit far away from him and the guy didn't bother to go near him.

He jogged up to the front steps to the station. The guy took a breath and opened the door.

"Freeze." Leon screamed, terrified. Within seconds he lowered his gun.

"I'm sorry, I thought you were one if these things." The two observed their surroundings. Empty. There was no sign of life in the lobby of the RPD building and no sign of the disaster that had overtaken the city, so there is a possibility there is people hiding here, planning something to deal with issues going on outside.

"Do you have any idea what's going on?" Leon asked, but he didn't get an answer from the guy.

"What's with the silent treatment, I'm creeped enough as is." Leon said again, sensing the tension in the air. Having someone with him should be a comfort.

"There is nothing to speak of." The guy's voice was husky. Out of nowhere, the guy jogged down the steps and toward the double door to the left, leaving him behind.

"Wait!" Leon shouted after him, but he vanished. "Great, like I needed more craziness to worry about."

Everything in the lobby looked just as he remembered it; three floors of classically styled architecture in oak and marble. There was a stone statue of a woman carrying a water pitcher in the lower part of the large lobby, a ramp on either side leading up to the receptionist's station, where he remember that hot girl he met that day and wished to get her number. The RPD seal set into the floor in front of the statue gleamed softly in the diffuse light from the wall lamps, as if it had just been polished.

"I hope someone can give me an answer, and what's the plan to stop this." he went left to check, but the door made him worried even more. It had blood that seems to be clawed in.

.

The cloaked individual took out his messenger bag and stepped over a body. The soles of the shoes scuffed of the ground when the individual then walked to the side toward the evidence room. The door was locked and he searched the body for a key and found one in the right pocket.

He pulled both of his weapons and took a breath… It shouldn't take long. He stepped over the files and paper that scattered all over the place and went over the door.

"Wesker come in? what is happening?"

"The whole city was thrown into chaos. I never imagined this." Wesker replied.

The very moment he was out, he found himself surrounded with a number of shuffling battered corpses skitter toward him through the broken window. The same with skinless long nailed creatures with elongated tongues, codenamed Lickers. In the heat of the moment he heard a loud thud from above echo through. It was strong enough to make him feel sand falling from the ceiling.

Wesker smirked, his body swiftly ducked down backwards to avoid two zombies trying to grab him. The licker stuck in the back and observed to see if the corpses would end this so it could use the least amount energy for a snack.

He aimed a heavily modified M92F handgun upwards shooting one in the mouth that separated its jaw. The second bullet had skull fragments and brain matter decorate the floor. The other had its nose cave in. Both zombies laid at the window frame as Wesker walked to it.

He slid over the window and kicked the closest zombie to him, he raised a submachine gun and shot it dead. The licker hissed and charged with its tongue toward Wesker.

He chuckled and ducked, the tongue missed him by centimeters, as he used the "redead" bodies to sit. The licker growled at him and prepared its left claw to swipe at him. Wesker smirked as he lifted his right leg upward as the Licker prepared to lung at him. The heel of his boot came down smashed the Licker's head to the floor. Not enough to kill it as it skittered to get back up to continue its attack. Wesker aimed the submachine gun unloaded into the head, the licker spas wildly then laid still.

Wesker stood and dusted himself casually, he took a breath and took out a pair of sunglasses.

"Impressive moves." Someone behind Wesker spoke, "Humans evolved so much since my days." Sparda applaud slowly.

Wesker swiftly spun around with his guns ready. "Who are you?"

Wesker kept his gun leveled at Sparda and just on the subtle twitch of the finger. The demon knew it was of the intent to kill so he responded by drawing his weapons.

The two just stared at each other.

"Did STARS send you? Or how about Interpol?" Wesker cocked his head.

"I work for myself." Sparda retorted. "So, there is still infighting amongst the humans."

"You speak of yourself as to be a being higher than humans." Wesker frowned.

"Far from it. Observations are a habit." Sparda had his eyes on Weskers.

'Then forgive my rude behavior.' Wesker fired his handgun and Sparda leaned back in time then returned fire. The area already had dim lighting so the flashes of orange light was what the other needed to get a clear view on the other. Sparda felt a bullet or two wedge themselves on his left arm and upper right chest.

Wesker ducked down behind a desk and ejected a spent magazine.

"You aren't going to give me a fair fight!?" Wesker slid a new magazine in. "You missed those shots on purpose!"

CLICK.

Sparda saw a strange black stacked metal box near the place where the human took cover. He aimed his gun and fired at the side and the force from his ammunition caused the cabinet to wobble and tilted to the wall and a drawer fell out on the human.

WHACK!

"Argh! Damn it!" Wesker moaned as he shoved the drawer off of his shin. He could feel a bruise forming as he kept his back on the desk and thought about risking to look back.

"Why must we fight? There are greater dangers out in this place."

"Then allow me passage."

"I was not blocking you in the first place."

Wesker shook his head and stood up. "I've wasted enough time."

Sparda stood there with his arms crossed, his eyes were filled with unknown observation. "Tell me, are you part of the police?"

"None of your business, get out of my way." Wesker retorted.

Sparda shook his head and walked slowly toward him. "Why? It will be shame for you to end up a mindless animal like the others."

Wesker gritted his teeth and fired immediately at silver man's forehead. He trembled and his head fell backwards. In mere seconds he cracked his neck forward, with clear cracking sounds but straightened itself out as Sparda looked back at him. Blood seeped and drifted down silver man forehead then split at his nose.

Though what Wesker saw was not red blood, it was all dark, black slightly greenish color.

"You are not a normal human being." Sparda replied and started wiping the blood with fabric of his long sleeves. "I smelled you from the very moment you came closer to this place."

"What!?" Wesker frowned. He lowered his weapons for a moment.

"Working with a companion give you a higher rate to survive." Sparda continued.

"Work with a partner?" Wesker said with an obvious teasing tone. "I'm not that desperate. Why would I work with an infected puppet?"

"Infected?" Sparda questioned.

"You should have died with that shot." Wesker aimed his handgun at him. "Who sent you here, Spencer? Simmons? That Russian bitch?"

Sparda rubbed his forehead, confused. "Do I resemble someone you know? You are mistaken."

Sparda's eyes widened, he grabbed Wesker's shoulder roughly. "Who did you meet?" He spoke eagerly. "Are they identical twins?"

Wesker was silent for a moment looking deep into Sparda's eyes, unsure of what to think. He cannot read him at all, Wesker never met someone like this. Everyone he known are like an opened books to him, he can recognize lies and fear within. This silver haired man could be honest he does not work for anyone who tries to bring him down.

"Maybe..." Wesker sighed and went forward aiming his gun to the side Sparda. The demon lord did the same up-ahead. Through the broken windows more lickers came through.

The two were back to back firing at the approaching enemies. "What's your name?" Wesker asked.

"Does it make a difference?"

"No."

Sparda looked toward the nearby buildings as several lickers crawled on the walls. Their claws bumped along a brick wall which only served to expose their location through sound. For Sparda, it was like his enemies walking in the dark with flashlights.

He looked to Wesker who just grunted at him.

Sparda flicked his wrist while he walked into the open. Wesker in tow as zombies came from all sides but there was some of the blue warriors that Sparda saw among them. In strange fragmented grey outer layers. With hats that revealed their dead faces underneath. Sparda sighed as he disliked the outcome for such humans.

He lifted his gun up and fired. The blue encased zombie lunged back and rested on the ground while Sparda opened fire on the rest. The regular ones went down without trouble.

A licker launched its tongue at Sparda when he flicked his head. It struck empty air and he turned around for the licker to growl at him.

"Semi-demons are so… fragile." Sparda stated as he sprinted forward while the licker defended itself with a tongue whip to lash the air. Sparda ducked and let the tongue reach back to its owner and he kicked it from its underside. The licker skittered about on its back as Sparda told hold of one of its hind legs and flung it to a concrete wall. Its inners splashed on the wall to match the carnage of the area.

Wesker just shot the other lickers but made sure to watch Sparda on his movements. Just the speed and strength, the former STARS captain needs to be clever about this.

When Wesker looked back to the street. "You missed one."

Sparda looked over his shoulder with a skeptical frown.

"What?"

"There is a thing called body armor now."

Sparda noticed the same oddly clothed blue warrior in the grey outer layers. It moaned but lumbered as if its upper body was crushed. A rib stuck out of its clothing.

"Fascinating."

"It's not like the armor did much. I take it your bullets are more so about stopping power than outright penetration. You probably shattered its rib cage and if it was alive, ruptured its organs." Wesker concluded.

"I use what has worked for me." Sparda shrugged as he walked to the former riot officer and used his hands to crush its head onto the pavement.

Sparda turned to face him. Wesker holstered his weapons and he was about to leave.

"I leave this to you. Good luck cleaning this path."

Wesker chuckled and pulled both of his weapons again, to clear two zombies trying to enter."Who counted on you anyway."

Sparda backtracked, ready to retreat. Look for something to help the sick young woman. He dodge a tongue that came his way and fired one last time. He turned around and ran back to the waiting room.

He looked through the drawer and took some papers out.

The dead are walking? How is it possible?

The police gathered and tried to contain the virus. Save as many people as possible, but it's too late. If anyone found this, hurry up and get out of here. Everyone is dead, the station is not safe. This is my last message, Raccoon city is done forever.

... Josh...

"Virus?" Sparda whispered. "Could it be some kind of a poison that turn normal humans to mindless hungry animals?"

He pondered over this new information a bit. The demon lord only saw poisons of similar effects from his own kind. Could it be a portal was opened and demons sneaked into this world? If this is the case, then he have a serious job to take care of, to save what's left from these poor humans.

He sighed and went out through the double door. There is no time to look for something for her, she might not survive long enough.

...

Once he returned to the large hall, he parted his arms and jumped easily, catching the railing to the room where Claire is. He opened the door and saw her still the same, unmoved. But the sound of her breaths was abnormal, it seems she is having a hard time breathing.

Sparda knelt down and touched her forehead. The temperature is still high. "Claire?" He called, but she didn't answer back. She moaned and moved her head slightly to the side.

Sparda closed his eyes and placed his hand on her wound. "Ic hæle þina þrowunga..." He chanted. Energy started flowing through his palm.

"Ic hæle þina þrowunga..." He repeated one more time.

Slowly but surely the bite mark started to vanish from her bleeding skin. Claire's breath was visible, her body shock for a moment like she was freezing.

"Claire?" He called again.

The young woman moved slightly and opened her eyes, her vision was blurry at first, she could see nothing but colors. "What...?"

She felt a hand help her to a sitting position. Once her vision started to Claire she remembered. "Sparda?" Her eyes darted around the waiting room. "What happened?"

"You were tired because of the pain in your leg, but you should be fine now."

Claire stared at Sparda so many confused feelings are troubling her. He is still here with her and he helped her to wake up. How much was she disappointing in her life? Maybe that was it. He reminded her of him in a way.

"Thank you." She stood, at first she felt dizziness, but managed to stand still. Thinking back of what is happening here.

Claire stepped toward the desk, lifting the entrance flap with the barrel of the gun. There was an old manual typewriter on the counter and next to that, a telephone. Claire grabbed for it, hoping to get something… call for help somewhere, but heard only dead silence through the receiver. Sighing, she dropped it and ducked down to check out the shelves beneath the counter.

A thick phone book, a few stacks of notebooks and then, half-hidden on the bottom shelf, was the familiar red shape she'd been hoping to find, coated with a thin layer of dust.

"This should help us." She murmured.

"You want to inspect the place, where that object crashed?" Sparda asked.

"Yes, maybe there is someone trapped in the other side. We should help."

Sparda smiled gently and reached out to touch her cheek and squeezed. "You are adorable, honestly. You remained me of..." But he stopped before he said the name.

Claire felt hotness in her cheeks, as she touched the place where his fingers were. "Why are you nice to me?" She wanted to know.

"You did not give me a reason to be harsh with you." He did not hesitate with his words."Not to mention you are a kin to my wife."

That was not enough answer to silence her curiosity. "Okay, fair enough. But I still don't understand." She rubbed her eyes to adjust her vision. "Who are you?"

"Why are you wondering so much now, we should try to help and walk out of this city alive?" Sparda held her hand. "Come on, let us take care of the fire."

Armed with the extinguisher, Claire stepped back to the door and started to take short, sharp breaths, filling her lungs. Breathing burning metal... a quick way to die.

..Thank you for reading..