Resident Evil
The Seraphs
By:
Xenogears
Chapter six
In no way do I own the characters of Capcom's
legacy, Resident Evil. They are used for non-profit purposes, only for
entertainment.
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Sherry walked out of
the shower, fully clothed, expecting to see Ryan sitting there on the bed
reading a book or something. She was surprised when she didn't find a trace of
him anywhere in the room. Ryan never went anywhere without letting her or
someone else know. If he had come back, he would have knocked on the bathroom
door to let her know.
The clock read
1:09PM. It seemed to her that he had been gone for about forty-five minutes,
but she remembered that she had awakened for a few seconds at about eleven to
find Ryan gone. So that was two hours. She shook her head in dismay and hurried
out the door to look for the others.
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Mark sat in a chair,
using the table next to him as a leg rest. He was in the communications room,
posted there by Vickers because he was expecting another attack from Umbrella.
Vickers wanted him to intercept Umbrella's radio traffic to get a warning ahead
of time.
He was quite bored.
Only when he was bored like this did he ever resort to playing a video game.
"Man," he said under
his breath. "If you want to get all 250, then you have to cut out a chunk of
your personal life, and replace it with this game."
He almost fell out
of his chair a few moments later when he heard radio traffic buzz over his
radio wave interceptor.
"This...ha...asking...sion to drop...nts over...ton...ver..."
Mark turned off his
game, and ran over to the console and tapped at the keys. A few moments later,
the transmission was clear.
"Repeat: this is
chopper 'Alpha', requesting permission to drop contents over Carlton, over."
"Chopper Alpha, this
is base, permission granted, over."
"Copy, base.
Dropping T-103's..."
Mark cringed
instinctively at the mention of T-103. Where did he hear that term before?
Suddenly, it hit him
like a brick. He ran from the room, looking for Dr. Vickers.
Though he may have
been a Seraph, his abilities wouldn't be as effective against the monstrosities
Umbrella was sending against them.
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"Has he come back
yet?" Sherry asked as she walked into the hotel lobby.
"Who?" Leon asked.
"Ryan."
"I haven't seen him all morning. Why?" Claire said.
"Because I haven't
seen him either. He said he was going to Anna's house, but he hasn't come back
for...two hours."
"What?" Leon was
incredulous. Everyone was rising from their seats.
"He hasn't been back
for two hours."
"Oh man...did
anything get to him?" Leon said.
"Don't talk like
that!" Sherry snapped. "He's okay! I know it! He's just lost or something..."
"Well, lost or not,"
Chris said, "we better start looking for him."
"All right, let's¾"
Claire was
interrupted by a crashing sound coming from off in the distance. The whole room
quaked.
"If whatever that
was had enough force to shake this room," Chris said, "then it had to have hit
the hotel."
Chris went outside
and looked at the structure for a moment.
"There's a big hole
in the ceiling of a room on the second floor," he called back. "I think it's
the one farthest to the left at the end of the hall."
"Well, what are we
waiting for?" Sherry said. "Let's get going!"
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The elevator ride
grated on their nerves. The car rose far too slowly, and they wanted to get
this over and done with.
The elevator
suddenly stopped. When the doors opened, they stepped out with weapons drawn¾Chris, his Glock
17;, Claire her M93R; Leon his VP70; and Sherry her .380.
They proceeded down
the hall, and Chris opened the door farthest to the left.
"Oh shit."
There was indeed a
hole in the ceiling. But that wasn't the thing that caught their attention.
What did was the red tube that impaled the bed. It was the size of two men, and
read 'T-103' on the front.
Leon gasped.
"Get back!" he
yelled.
"Why?" Chris asked.
"The last time I saw
one of these things, one of those Tyrant monsters came out of it!"
As they watched, a
hissing sound emitted form the tube and steam shot from cracks in it. A panel
in the side of the tube fell to the floor, and what they saw was a pale-skinned
giant figure dressed in a black trench coat. The figure stirred, and then its
eyes snapped opened. A T-103.
Leon didn't need to
repeat himself. Everyone turned and ran for the staircase, not wanting to wait
for the elevator. When they were halfway down the hallway, the Tyrant could be
seen emerging from the room. Chris stopped and fired his Glock 17.
Pow! Pow! Pow!
Pow! Pow!
The hail of bullets
was no obstacle to the Tyrant. Without a flinch, it continued advancing,
picking up speed.
Claire called back
to Chris to stop. He cursed at his own stupidity. He should have known that 9mm
rounds would have no effect.
The Tyrant was
gaining on Chris. He dived into the stairwell after the others without looking
back. The Tyrant barreled through the doorframe as if it were wax paper,
hurtled across the top stairs, ricocheted off the wall leaving a large dent,
and continued bounding down the passage after Chris.
Chris reached the
first floor and flung open the door, not bothering to close it behind him,
because he knew it wouldn't do any good. They kept running at top speed for the
exit. When they got outside, they
stopped and looked around frantically in every direction.
"Where to, Chris?"
Sherry asked, trying to regain her breath.
Chris was about to
respond, when one of the walls collapsed, and the Tyrant was right behind it.
Chris looked up to
see a gas station across the street. He leapt from the curb and ran for it. He
noticed that he didn't mind the biting cold--adrenaline probably.
Though the snow
slowed them down, they still had the lead when they reached the front door of
the gas station. It was locked shut.
"Chris!" Leon
yelled. "You led us into a trap!"
Chris looked around
for something to use, when his eyes came across a rusty barrel a few feet away.
It smelled strongly of gasoline. He couldn't predict the behavior of one of
Umbrella's greatest creations, but he would take a chance.
There was a little
greasy residue in the bottom of the barrel. He knew it was gasoline. He heaved
it on its side and kicked it so it went rolling down the incline that led to
the street, clattering toward the Tyrant.
'Come on...' he
thought.
The barrel rolled to
a stop at the monster's feet. Chris was about to curse, but then he saw the
Tyrant start to pick it up. He could barely contain his glee.
Taking aim, he
waited until the tyrant had hefted the barrel just above its head, then he
pulled the trigger on his Glock 17.
BOOOOOMMMMMMM!!!
The
explosion was deafening. Charred parts of the Tyrant were raining down over the
lot.
"Yeeeesssss!
Who da man?! Who da man?!" Chris shouted.
This
moment of childishness defused their tension, and they all started to laugh.
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Ryan
sat on the bed of his cell/room. He was beginning to get sick of this room.
'Hell,' Ryan thought. 'I'm gettin' sick of this whole town.'
He
looked over the map that Anna had given him. He was a little sad that he would
have to betray them, but they seemed bent on killing everyone who didn't have O
Negative or OB Negative blood type. Just because of something about the 'Will
of God.' These people belonged in an insane asylum. To take his mind off it, he
started to hum Limp Bizkit's 'Rollin, Air Raid Vehicle.'
Using
a red marker, he traced his route on the map. He would take the path that he
had been taking before to pick up his weapons, then keep going down the hall.
At the next T section, he would take a right, and follow it as it branched off
to the left and then right again. Then he would take a left at the next
intersection, and follow that path until he reached a door at the end of the
hallway. That would lead to a passage that would take him to Anna's basement.
Since
there were only three other people in the building, he would only have to worry
about security cameras. Strangely but lucky for Ryan, they hadn't installed any
in his cell/room, so he could work without being found out.
He
reviewed his plan, once, twice, three times, then put it to rest. He stuffed
the map under the mattress, and left his cell to speak to Dr. Vickers.
Little
did he know, he had left a corner of the map just visible from under the
mattress.
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Anna
was knocking at Ryan's door to find some way to apologize to him for all the
treachery and deception0 that he had endured because of her.
knock,
knock, knock.
The
door was almost instantly opened by Ryan, who looked annoyed.
"Ummmm..."
She started to say. "I'm...I'm really sorry about all that's happened...It was
to lure you here, and I wasn't just following orders. I actually helped make
the plan to bring you here..."
Ryan
said nothing, his expression unchanged.
"Once
again, I'm really, really sorry."
The
set of Ryan's features didn't change, but he backed away from the doorway to
let Anna in.
"Is
there some way I can repay you?"
Ryan
then suddenly grabbed her around the waist, and pulled him closer to him, an
action that surprised Anna.
"I
don't know," Ryan said in an alluring tone. "What do you think?"
Anna
started to close the gap between their faces. Why was she doing this?
"I
have a pretty good idea how."
Anna
moved in close enough to hear his breathing, and feel it on her neck.
Pow!
It
wasn't until the sound cleared that Anna felt the pain in her abdomen.
Even
through her red shirt, she could see her own blood gushing out in thick
streams.
She
looked at Ryan whose face was emotionless, and held a still smoking Walther
PPK/S in his right hand.
She
was losing strength fast. She fell to the floor. She could feel blood rising in
her throat, and coughed it out to splash onto the floor.
She
looked up at Ryan.
"Why...?"
She managed to say her voice barely above a whisper.
"Just
because," Ryan calmly answered.
He
pointed his gun at her face and once again pulled the trigger.
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Anna
bolted up from her sleeping position on the table. She had rested her head on
her arms for a while, just for a quick nap, as she had trouble finding sleep
lately. She hadn't expected to fall asleep.
She
was in the break room of the labs, slumped in a hard plastic bucket chair at
one of the anonymous, slippery-topped tables. Soda and sandwich vending
machines lined one side of the room, and a water fountain and small sink
occupied one corner.
She
glanced at the clock on the opposite wall. She had been sleeping for only
thirty minutes. She realized that lunch would have to be ready in about twenty
minutes.
Grumbling
sleepily, she contemplated the dream she just had.
Did
she have feelings for Ryan? Yes, he was attractive, but she just thought of him
as a friend at best.
Wait.
Friend? Since when was he her friend?
'Ugh...I'll
go crazy thinking like this,' she thought. 'I have to just keep going. Thank
God my Seraph abilities lets me survive with sleep deprivation.'
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Anna
arrived at Ryan's door to tell him that lunch was ready.
knock,
knock, knock
When
there was no answer, she tried the latch. It opened without a sound. The room
was deserted. She looked around, and caught the sight of something hanging out
under his mattress.
'I
thought that boys hid their 'magazines' better than this...' Anna thought.
She
walked over to the bed, pulled on the paper that was sticking out. As she
unfolded it her eyes widened as she realized what she was holding. It was a
diagram of the labs with an escape route mapped out. She knew exactly where the
escape route was; she used it all the time to get to the labs.
'Should
I stop him?' Anna thought.
She
stood at Ryan's bedside for a few long moments. She had the obligation to turn
him in to Dr. Vickers. But if she did that, he would most likely be killed.
(Dr. Vickers only liked complete loyalty.) She had grown to like Ryan in
this short time, and in spite of all that was going on, she felt like making
this 'friendship' last. But then again, she had to follow her duty to the human
race, didn't she?
Finally,
she carefully folded up the map, and placing it back under the mattress so it
didn't show, left the room quietly.
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Ryan
walked into the office. Dr. Vickers was sitting at the far end of the room at a
highly polished oak desk that reflected his upside-down ghosted image in it's
surface, beside the keyboard and the largest monitor Ryan had ever seen. Behind
him a marker board was filled with equations that Ryan didn't understand.
Dr.
Vickers looked up from his work and smiled.
"Well,
hello, Ryan."
"Dr.
Vickers," Ryan nodded.
"Why
did you come to see me?"
"Ummmmm..."
Ryan
racked his brain for answers. He had rehearsed what he would ask on his way
over, and now he had suddenly forgotten.
"Well...I
just came to tell you that...I'm still kind of overwhelmed with this whole
thing..."
"Ah!
Don't worry Ryan," Vickers said. "So were Mark and Anna. But they eventually
grew in to it, and their Seraph abilities progressed, as will yours."
Ryan
cringed. He couldn't shake the fact that he wasn't entirely human anymore, and
he didn't want to accept it. But he had no other choice but to accept it,
otherwise he would be denying his very being. He still held onto the hope that
there was some sort of antidote that could reverse the process he had gone
though. And what about Mark and Anna?
"I
was wondering if there was something that might revert me to being human?" Ryan
said. "I mean, so I can avoid it in the future?"
Vickers
pondered it for a few seconds.
"There
might...but for so drastic a change, it would take a long time to develop
something like a vaccine, so you don't have much to worry about."
Ryan
was glad that this man seemed warped or even insane, even if the man was a
genius. He wouldn't have to use as much caution as if he were normal.
"Well,
then," Ryan said as he turned for the door. "Later."
Vickers
watched Ryan leave, and smiled.
'Those
two...Ryan and Anna have so much potential together...Mark has already shown
himself more useful than I first considered him,' Vickers thought. 'I wonder
what will become of those two? I think that I already see a bit of contention
between them...'
Vickers's
slight frown relaxed into the usual tight smile. As he turned back to his work,
there came a frantic knocking at the door.
"Come
in."
Mark
practically came barreling through the door, breathing heavily.
"What's
wrong, Mark?" Vickers asked.
"It's...Umbrella...They're...sending
in...T-103s..."
Vickers
jumped out of his seat.
"So...They
want to test the will of God, eh? Go to the armory and get some good weapons
like, oh I don't know, a Barret M82?" Vickers finished the last part of his
last sentence with a sinister smile.
"Well,"
Mark ventured with the same smile. "I've never used guns before, but I'm a
quick learner, right?"
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Ryan
closed his cell's door behind him and heaved a sigh of relief. On his visit to
the doctor, he had felt that his mind was being read, or that he was being
watched. Though he didn't think much of the first, he was pretty sure that
there was a surveillance on him. 'Seraph powers perhaps?' he thought.
When
Mark had come running past him down the hall, Ryan thought that he was coming
straight for him. He was relieved when he saw Mark head straight into Vickers'
office.
He
knelt at the edge of his bed, and took the map. Stuffing it into his pocket as
far as it could go, he turned for the door.
In
the hallway, he thrust his hand into his pants pocket where his switchblade was
hidden. When he arrived at the room where they were keeping his weapons, he
threw open the door, and quickly gathered his weapons and ammo, stuffing his
other pockets with the rounds. He was dismayed to find his Colt .45 missing.
'Huh...take
the most powerful one, and leave the weakest ones for leftovers.'
He
placed his weapons away in their respective holsters: his Beretta 92 in his
side holster, and his Walther PPK/S in his ankle holster.
He
left to continue cautiously down the hall, looking around for cameras at each
corner. He spotted one and walked casually by, but picked up his pace when he
thought he was well out of range.
It
didn't take him long to reach the final hallway, and just beyond that, the door
that would lead out to Anna's house.
'All
right...just get through this door, and I'm free...no more of this 'Will of
God' crap...'
Ryan
placed his hand on the latch.
Click.
And
froze. He felt cold metal press against his head, and instantly knew what it
was. He slowly placed his hands on the top of his head.
"I'm
kinda taking a liking to this Colt .45 of yours," he heard Anna say.
"Anna...It's
not what it looks like..."
"Bull.
It's exactly what it looks like," Anna said. "You were going to escape to the
outside world using a passage that would lead to my house and then go back to
your friends and tell them of what happened here."
"Anna,
please..."
"Stop
playing games with me, Ryan. I'm not really in the mood for this. It's best
that you stop beating around the bush and admit to your crimes. Doing so would
make Dr. Vickers think twice about killing you, and I would even put in a word
for you."
"I
was just..." Ryan searched for the words to say. When he found none, he wondered
if he should admit to what he was doing. 'Hey, if she's telling the truth, I
might get another chance to escape.'
"Fine.
You got me. I was trying to escape. Happy now?"
"Yes,
actually."
Anna
started to back away.
"Don't
try anything. I have a very itchy trigger finger when something moves too
suddenly."
Ryan
slowly turned around.
"Good.
Now let's go." Anna reached for the door latch. It opened with a slight creak.
Ryan
was confused.
"What
the...? Don't you want to turn me over?"
"I
betrayed your trust once before," Anna replied, "but not again. If you need to
get out of here, I'm with you. Besides, I was getting tired of this place. I
need a little sunshine."
Ryan,
still hesitant and wondering, started following her though the long, dimly lit,
tunnel that looked from here like it was a mile long.
"Come
on," she said. "We don't have much time before they notice that we're missing."
Author's
note: I must thank my proofreader F. Buckley, my copy editor Mayumi_H, and my
beta readers, Catalina, Red Kat 9, and Jack The Ripper. You guys are doing a
great job so far, and I really appreciate it!
Just
in case you don't know, the Barret M82 is one of the, if not the, most powerful
nonexplosive weapons in the world. First employed by the U.S. Army during
Operation Desert Storm, the special .50 caliber bullet it fires can rip through
a 600-pound safe, leave an exit hole, and still hit a target behind it with
good accuracy.
For
the record, Jared Vickers is in NO WAY related to Brad Vickers of Resident Evil
1 and 3. Thank you.
Ja
ne!
Draft:
3/23/01
Final:
4/?/01
