Disclaimer: I own nothing that Capcom does, though I wush I did. All else belongs to me! Mwahahahahahahahahaha!!!

Jade: Tee-hee, new chapter up! Now, now, no need to soil yourself. I meant to upload this ages ago(somewhere around two weeks) but ff.net was down. So just in case that happens again, review with your e-mail clearly in the review and I'll send you chapters as soon as I finish them(who nows maybe you'll even get them a few days earlier than ff.net) jade_ice17@hotmail.com

CHAPTER 4: FOR STRENGTH

I didn't want to stay in the apartment any longer than I had to. Not with that creepy Russian out there, somewhere. I grabbed something micowavable and ate it in a rush. The tension was slowly coming to a knot between my shoulder blades and I did a few stretches to calm myself. I knew I had to find a way out but didn't know how. While I was stretching I saw the phone book. After flipping through a few pages of diplomatic mayor shit I came to a map of Raccoon City. Hooray for phone books, I thought as I ripped the page out and tucked it into one of the pockets on the utility belt.

After I was rested, fed, and cleaned fully I gathered what was left of my nerves and stalked out the door. My Ryoko sweater was tied around my waist, hiding my Bat-belt. It wouldn't due to have Mr. Valentino know that I had weapons if I ran into the smelly bastard again.

:No.: I thought. :Don't think like that, you will not see him again. He's probably maggot chow by now.: My reassuring did nothing to ease the cold dread that was creeping up from my stomach. What would I do if I did see him again? Would I be able to kill him? Maybe he'd be nice to me this time and we'd escape together.

Yeah, and orange monkeys will fly out of my ass.

I made my way down the stairs and creeped out the door looking for my fan club of deadites. Oh how unfortunate, they didn't seem to be here. I briefly thought about which direction I should head and thought about consulting the map. No point in that really, I already knew what two of my three choices led to.

Finally I decided to head in the direction in which the sniper and his prey went. It was easy enough to follow a trail that was left in blood. Kinda creepy too.

The cherry colored spatters led me to a part of town that had an industrial look to it. There were a couple statues and a pretty looking fountain. Raccoon City had a nice look to it once you got over the blood smeared streets and the carnage everywhere.

I took a closer look at the fountain, it had a deep indent that looked like it could hold some sort of book or something. It said something that seemed like a cryptic sentence. My fingers traced the line that made up the indent and my mind began to work. I needed to put something here but what? And where do I get it?

Suddenly my Spidey senses went off and I wheeled around only to have my sight bombarded with pure black. My thoughts froze until I looked up and saw the face (or what was left of) of what was blocking my view.

:Nemesis!!!!!!: I remembered reading about this monster in the files I hacked. It was a killing machine made solely for the purpose of destroying the S.T.A.R.S. members. He was ruthless and bloodthirsty, and could and will kill anything that gets in his way. Including me.

My legs caved out from underneath me, forcing me to sink into a horrified pile of boneless flesh at it's feet. I started shaking and feared I would be reduced to drooling within a few seconds. My heart let out a spasm, never before had I been so sure of my demise. I was at the giant feet of an elite killing monster and all I could do was cower and hope my death was swift and painless.

"S.T.A.R.S." Nemesis' low grumbling voice penetrated my ears giving full-body shivers. The shaking became worse and I seriously thought for a moment that I would liquefy before he had a chance to mangle me. I heard a sickly slinking sound and saw with my peripheral vision that a lanky purplish tendril was snaking it's way towards my face. It sprouted from his hand. I swallowed the bile that was crawling up my throat and waited for sure death.

But nothing came.

I chanced looking up and saw that he was no longer boring into me with his piercing white eyes. Instead he was looking to his right.

His eyes narrowed and he sucked air through his nostrils. "S.T.A.R.S." He grumbled letting the growl linger in his throat a little longer than I would have liked and whuffed in air presumably to catch the scent.

Gunshots rang out over the song of the undead, and I could swear I heard cursing as colourful as my own. Nemesis took a few careful steps backwards and snuffed the air again. Then he burst out into an all out run, chasing the sound. Nemesis was fast, really fast. My eyes were almost popping out of my head when I came to my senses and figured that he had left.

And I was still alive.

I had come face to face with the most elite killer Umbrella has pumped out yet (at least that I know of) and lived to tell about it. I began to laugh at my own good fortune. I was laughing so hard it took me a minute to realize that I was crying.

* * *

Any thoughts I had of figuring out the fountain puzzle where quickly put to rest with the rest of the idiots in Raccoon City. Instead I climbed on top of a van that wasn't far away and scuttled onto a rooftop. I took off across the roof and jumped onto the next one. Thankfully I made it without breaking anything, if I had done that I would surely never make it out. The roof was clear of deadites and other unhappy creatures. I decided to take a chance and try to go as far as I possibly could on the roofs, there didn't seem to be any undead activity up here.

After I had jumped the gap of about four or five roofs I came to a stop and caught my ragged breath. The smell of the deceased wasn't as bad up here, another perk. The moon was brighter than it had been the previous night and drowned out the stars in it's magnificence. There was a light breeze that played with my tiny braids, causing them to bounce delightfully against my chin. If I weren't running for my very life and soul, I may have enjoyed this.

Now was a good enough place to descend from the roof tops so I scouted the area. Who ever had planned the Raccoon disaster was a genius of tactics. Cars were piled up in two or threes in some points and looked about as steady as a tower of cards. Police cars made up the bulk of them and I sent a silent prayer to all the men and women of the force that didn't make it out. Judging by how many cars there were I'd have to say that the police were used as bait and then ammunition for the undead. If the law couldn't put a stop to the insanity of this place what would? :That must have been what started the riots.: I thought.

As I looked around I saw the same sights I had a hundred times before; zombies, crashed cars, small fires, chunks of those who wouldn't become the undead, and the remnants of another U.B.C.S. member. In fact there was three of them.

I climbed down from my vantage point after sniping a zombie or two and went to inspect the bodies. Two of them didn't have weapons anymore, which I thought was strange. The third looked like he hadn't been here as long as the others. Sucking in a breath of air I carefully mugged him. Well what do you expect? He was the only one left who had any artillery.

And how wonderful it was. I enjoyed the feeling of cold metal that came from the M16. I did a quick check for how much ammo was left and found at least half a magazine in there. And ever better, they were .223 hollow points which meant that they had maximum damage. My hands frisked his belt and came up with two more magazines that I swiftly put into my Bat- belt. I also found what I thought was a diary and took a look at the last entry.

* * *

I am Rod Mosby and this is my confession. I was hired by Umbrella to join their special force called Umbrella Bio-Hazard Countermeasure Service, U.B.C.S. for short. Comprised of ex-military and ex- mercenaries with heavy combat experience and shady pasts. I was a mercenary in my previous employment and was happy for the chance at decent pay and steady work, like so many of the others. Umbrella even saved me from having to go on trial for a few murders in the name of vengeance. But now I wish that I had faced my sins and gone to trial. This place, Raccoon City I think it's called, is worse then hell. I've seen my comrades fall to the undead and each other alike. So many of them are ruthless and won't think twice about serving you up for death instead of themselves. But there were a few goods ones. Carlos Oliveira for one, I think he was a merc too. Gunner... something. I never really caught his last name and I doubt that it's his real name anyway, sounds like a military nickname. It suits the young Hispanic well, I've never seen anyone better with weapons than he is.

But discussing people isn't the reason why I'm writing right now. I'm currently stuck in an abandoned warehouse with three other members of my squad. Joey, Chris and Isaac. We were the only ones to survive the initial encounter with the zombies. I'm writing to get the most terrible things I've done off my chest.

I cheated on my wife before she was gunned down. I killed her murderers in cold blood and found myself enjoying it. And most recently I pushed Matthew in front of a zombie to save my own sorry ass.

If anyone finds this (and I have in fact been killed) please kick my dead body. I don't deserve to go down as anything other than scum.

Rod Mosby

* * *

I shivered at his words. This guy was sick. I thought faintly that I was lucky that the virus carriers got to him before he got to me. :Well at least I know what U.B.C.S. means now. Even if it was a grim way to learn: This explained why that creepy Russian did what he did. I just hoped that he wouldn't find me.

I stood up from my crouching position and stretched my legs, thinking of where I was going to go next. The nearest street sign said 'Dare' and 'Jinn' streets. I pulled out my handy-dandy map and found them printed in almost microscopic letters. The nearest exit from the city was somewhere around twenty blocks away, which would be impossible to navigate through. I had to find another way of getting out besides traveling the god-forsaken city.

:An underground railway,: My mind began to work, :maybe a sewage system.: I let out a sound of disgust at that one. No way was I going through waist deep shit for twenty blocks, besides from reading the stuff that I hacked I knew that there was a lab down there, somewhere. If the city looked like this, who knows what the lab would look like. The monsters and carriers would get hungry sometime and they would probably head for the sewers if they could to find a way to more food. And unlike the streets, sewers were not more then ten feet across at best and only had one way...

The underground railway didn't sound so bad though. Granted the power would most likely be out but I could probably find a way to get it going again. Eventually.

I bit frustrated I resolved to carry out Rod's request and kicked him in the side while swearing under my breath. Couldn't let him go without his final wish. While I was doing that a light bell-like sound came after I kicked him a fifth time.

A small red key dangled from a chain coming from a tattered pocket on his army pants. I reached over and yanked it from it's constraint. The key was no longer then my middle finger had only one thing on it; AB-3. :It must be a key in a numbered set!: I thought with hope. :Maybe I'll be able to do something with it! Maybe I'll find a way out.: My hope was growing by the moment. I searched the other two for keys and surprisingly I came up with another one. It was identical to the red one except it was blue and had in the same font 'AB-4' written on the back. I hid them carefully in one of the pouches on my belt and made sure that they wouldn't be able to fall out if I had to suddenly run. Then I slung the rifle strap over my shoulders and heard the sound of logical footsteps come close. I didn't move by reason of absolute fear. Nemesis had left a deep scar in my subconscious and I was afraid the killer had sought me out for fun.

A shadow rounded the corner and was soon followed by its body. The familiar U.B.C.S. uniform came into my sight. My eyebrows creased in an attempt to look dangerous and my lips came to a humourless line on my face. I hoped he wouldn't be able to see my eyes clearly because I was sure that they would reveal my fear.

He staggered after catching sight of me and raised his rifle at me. I had caught him by surprise. I already had my rifle trained on as soon as I realized that he wasn't Nemesis.

We stood about fifteen feet away from each other with weapons drawn. He was Hispanic, had short scruffy black hair, a body that had seen many days in the gym, and looked at me with fierce green eyes. He was actually kind of attractive. But now wasn't the time to be thinking about that.

His eyes darted to the three fallen U.B.C.S. members then held my gaze again. "What happened?" His voice held a luscious Spanish accent that sent shivers down my spine.

:Don't think about that crap right now!: I read once that people who survived near-death experiences had an incredible sex-drive afterwards. :You haven't survived it yet so get a hold of yourself!: I scolded myself.

Then I spoke, "I came upon this about five minutes ago. No one was alive."

I could tell that he untensed slightly after I spoke. "Are you all right?" He dropped his rifle to his side and made slow cautious steps towards me.

"I'm fine." I didn't drop my guard. Instead I held it a little more firmly. He stopped moving once he saw that I wasn't putting my gun down.

"Something wrong?" He brought his hands to shoulder height in the universal sign of 'I'm not going to shoot you.' "Listen lady, I'm not going to hurt you. I just want to talk."

Talk! Does he want to talk like that freaky Russian did. "Just stay where you are." I snapped. "I saw one of your men already, and he wasn't very friendly."

"Hey, I don't know what you saw but I really won't hurt you, you have my word." He said with a hint of defiance in his creamy voice.

:His word,: I thought as the information from the journal caught up with me, :is worth maggot slime.:

"Come on," He lured. "U.B.C.S. was sent here to protect and rescue civilians."

I lowered my gun slightly and looked at him a little more closely. He didn't look like he was lying and did I see a whisper of fear in his eyes as well? I glint caught my eye and I saw two coloured keys hanging on the chain for his dog-tags. One was yellow and the other green. He had the other keys! :Maybe I should think about talking with him...:

My thoughts were interrupted by screeching and a mass of teeth, claws and bloody flesh that came barreling around the corner. It was two of the strange six armed creatures, and they were having quite a brawl! I let out an involuntary scream as one brought it's claws into the others eye. The one on the bottom screeched and broke away from the other. In a moment dense with tension and primal fear the two creatures looked directly at me.

"Oops." My hand flew up to my mouth as I realized my mistake. They forgot their quarrel immediately and stalked towards me and the U.B.C.S. member. I fired at one without a seconds hesitation and continued to fire until it was a bloody puddle in the street.

The man fired at the other one. It chilled me to see that he had on the cold face of a killer that felt nothing. In the moment that he assaulted the creature with his rifle, my blood turned frozen as cold dread sunk into the pit of my stomach.

I didn't know if I should trust him or not so I simply ran.

* * *

I ran through dark alleys and gored streets, my feet all but flying over broken glass and broken lives. I only met up with one zombie but it wasn't fast enough to keep up with me after I rocketed past it. My breath burned in my lungs like a thousand tiny devils were poking and prodding at the frail tissue.

After a long time, too long to have run for, I stopped and caught my breath. I began to feel a pang of guilt for having left the U.B.C.S. member alone. :Just remember he's survived this long with an M16 and you've had to make due with a hand gun until about half an hour ago. He'll survive.: But he had the other keys. I kicked at a crushed pop can that was on the ground in aggravation. I didn't even know what the keys were for, but I did know I only had two of four. I wandered down the street with little direction. I had to find out what these keys were for...

"Don't you move." A voice broke through my thoughts with the speed of a freight train. My spine went rigid and my pupils dialated with fear.

Mr. Valentino.

Of all the misfortune, I had to run into him. I could feel the big stupid brute's stare bore into the back of my head. I heard cautious footsteps come towards me.

"Drop da gun." His voice sounded harsher then it had before. But he was still the idiot he was before, I wasn't holding a gun, I was holding the standard issue M16 assault rifle of U.B.C.S. I spat mentally with disgust, only a primitive screwhead wouldn't know the difference. "Now kick it away from yourself."

Grudgingly I did what he told me. I kicked the rifle away from myself, but even further away from Mr. V. My hands were in the air now and my stomach turned over with anxiety.

"Turn around slowly." He commanded. As I turned around I nearly winced as I saw the condition he was in. He hadn't cleaned his face since the steering wheel rearranged it, blood was dried and caked in the creases of his face and even his bushy eyebrows held the life substance. His clothes looked no better either, the jeans he wore were heavily tattered on the left cuff and I suspected it was because of the zombie that saved me from getting kicked. There was a deep gash in his upper left arm and the remainder of the sleeve had been used as a crude compress.

Then there was his eyes. They cast madness from the core of them, causing the pupil to take over most of the retina, giving him the eyes of a demon. They were cold and kept darting around, searching. After he had finished looking around very paranoid-like his eyes shot to me and sent a new meaning of fear lancing down my spine.

Mr. V silently scanned by body and concluded with a look of satisfaction. I knew I was darkly bruised all over and undoubtedly had a few scratches that would leave scars, nothing that would make me look like supermodel material. But I knew why he looked satisfied-

He wanted to take my body. He was probably mad enough to rape me right here in the street too. He started towards me again taking slow deliberate steps despite his relative madness.

I didn't know what to do, he had a gun trained on my forehead if I bolted. My rifle was five feet away from my hands and I already felt violated. He went to reach with his left arm but withdrew it in pain. Instead he switched the gun into his left hand, painfully brought it to gut level and tried again with his right hand.

He ran a shaky hand through my braids and let out a breath that was ragged. :Hopefully ragged from exertion.: I thought in a panic. His eyes closed as he brought his face closer to mine and took my lips. I fought back wanting to puke and pillaged my mind for ideas but nothing came up.

But I did get an opportunity. As his hand fell from my hair to rest at the back of my rigid spine the other joined it. My right hand shot up and I jabbed a thumb into his open gash.

He recoiled in pain and screamed. Or was it I who screamed? The force I put on his wound made blood squirt up to splatter all up my arm. I took my thumb out and a chunk of flesh with it. He dropped his gun and clutched at the bleeding gash.

Meanwhile I dove for my rifle and rolled. I picked it up with my right hand and finished the roll to come into a crouching stance. My eyes caught Mr. Valentino flailing around, trying unsuccessfully to stop the blood.

I took off while he was preoccupied. I heard and then felt bullets race past me, he had gathered himself enough to shoot at me. I spun around and shot back, my braids whipping my face, knowing that I wouldn't actually hit him. I only intended to fire off warning shots until he screamed and dropped his gun.

I breathed heavily and stared at him coldly. I scared myself knowing that I had the same face the U.B.C.S. member had when he shot down the six legged creature. I shuddered as he gripped the outer side of his right leg.

One of my bullets had grazed him. I felt a flush of regret and shame wash over me. I hadn't meant to actually shoot him, I'm not a killer!

:Who are you kidding yourself. You didn't have any regret when you killed all those zombies. Why should you have it now?: A little voice called out in my mind.

:No! I'm not a killer, they were already dead!: I screamed back mentally. I clutched my head with my hands and hit myself with my rifle by accident. It brought me back to the world of the living. This wasn't the time to consider my morals! I had to get out while I still could.

My legs jolted and I took off as fast as I could. Far away from Mr. Valentino and with any luck far away from my problems.

* * *

Once I was sure I was far enough away from Mr. V, I finally stopped. I had someone's blood on me. I doubled over and puked.

I had shot someone in cold blood. Granted he hadn't died but how long would it be before he bled to death because of me?

:And how long would you have lied there bleeding after he had finished with you?: The logical side of me asked and I dropped my rifle as a torrent of emotions flooded out. He was just about to rape me. I only did it in self-defense.

:Oh yeah?: That damn little voice came back. :Then why did you look like you had done it a thousand times before?: It questioned.

"But I didn't mean to shot him." I had gone back to holding my head in an attempt to make my conscience stop.

:Then why did you run? Why didn't you go back and patch him up. You * have * been doing a lot of running lately.:

"I ran because he'd have killed me if I had stayed." I screamed at it and slumped to my knees. I stayed in that position, my body shaking with unreleased sobs as tears ran down my cheeks.

I wasn't sure how long I was there or how my gun got in my hand. I felt horrible guilt grip me by my heart. First for running out on the U.B.C.S. member and possibly leaving him to his death, and second for having shot Mr. Valentino.

My mind was filled with images if the undead and my heart with shame, guilt, sorrow and regret. I raised the gun to my temple and continued crying. I was going to die anyway, why not make it by may own hand?

I stopped crying and took a deep breath, most likely my last and began to pull the trigger...

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Oh no, what's gonna happen next! You're just gonna have to wait for the next chapter...