Author's Note: I apologize for the great delay between this and the
previous chapter... It seems that I've ruined any hopes of acquiring a new
record. Regardless, I am eternally grateful for all of those magnificently
kind reviews and reviewers, and, as usual, a monumental, resounding, 'thank
you!,' to Cherry, my wonderful slave driver. Also, I'm very sorry to
disappoint, but this will be a very short chapter; it's basically the
epilogue to Lonely Lover's Lament, but it is just the transition to a new
arc, which is, as of yet, untitled.
Disclaimer: Resident Evil is a copyright of Capcom, inc., and I assert no ownership of it. If by their request, I shall immediately remove this piece from fanfiction.net, and anywhere else it may be posted and\or archived.
It's finally ended... This horrible agony, this excruciating waiting, has now ceased. The train has arrived, and it's embarking within several minutes. This will probably be my final diary entry, since I'll have no reason to confide in an inanimate piece of paper any longer; however, I will always save this.
The final minutes before everything, my waiting, this intense, horrible peace before the 'storm,' will end... The tension in the air is palpable, and I know that it's not only I. Umbrella is afraid, probably because something did happen in the labs with Birkin, and this train is equipped with extreme security measures. Not only that, but there's something else on this train: B.O.W.s... I'm not certain exactly what they intend to do with them, but I can only assume that they're being prepared for transit to the transit hub in Toronto, for transport to the Paris laboratories... However, I am afraid of what they may do when they learn of HCF's assault on the train; after all, it wouldn't be below Umbrella to order the release of the MA-121s, the MA-103s, and the two T-104 units, just to prevent HCF from succeeding.
As I write this, I'm watching the heavily-armed security guard in this room, a kind, albeit very ignorant man, pace about, his eyes darting around the room, and occasionally lingering on me. It's an innocent look: a look of one with no evil intents, and no knowledge of the true nature of the world. It's obvious that he's just an expendable Umbrella minion; I almost regret that I have to kill him. However, it's essential to guarantee that he's unable to engage the locks in this area, or alert the TRUE security team on the train before HCF secures this part of the train. They'll be breaching this window, and it will be imperative for this sentry to already be lying a pool of his own blood, so that the HCF troops will be certain that it's not a trap.
There's forty seconds to the invasion, and his back is turned. My hands are clenched around my pistol; it's time to act.
Author's Note: Well, basically, that was the epilogue to the "Lonely Lover's Lament" arc. The point-of-view will still be Rebecca's first person, but no longer will it be in a diary form, for the next arc, at least. I must express an extreme amount of gratitude toward all those that have offered such amazing support, and, naturally, my favorite whip- wielder, Cherry.
Preview of next arc:
Drawing my pistol, I took aim at the poor, unassuming sentry's head. I didn't relish this, but I had no choice; it was essential for the invasion to succeed flawlessly. My eyes closing briefly, I applied a gentle, but gradually increasing pressure to the trigger, a brief 'puff' emanating from the suppressed pistol and a gentle metallic clatter as the casing rolled about the ground of the cabin.
Hearing his body tumble to the floor with a gentle thud, the sub-machinegun falling from his grip, I looked up, unconsciously closing my eyes upon seeing the sentry, little more than a boy, with a trickle of red running from the gaping wound in his skull, an unknowing expression forever painted upon his face. Standing, I stood away from the window, a crash issuing just as my watch beeped, one of the large panes imploding...
Disclaimer: Resident Evil is a copyright of Capcom, inc., and I assert no ownership of it. If by their request, I shall immediately remove this piece from fanfiction.net, and anywhere else it may be posted and\or archived.
It's finally ended... This horrible agony, this excruciating waiting, has now ceased. The train has arrived, and it's embarking within several minutes. This will probably be my final diary entry, since I'll have no reason to confide in an inanimate piece of paper any longer; however, I will always save this.
The final minutes before everything, my waiting, this intense, horrible peace before the 'storm,' will end... The tension in the air is palpable, and I know that it's not only I. Umbrella is afraid, probably because something did happen in the labs with Birkin, and this train is equipped with extreme security measures. Not only that, but there's something else on this train: B.O.W.s... I'm not certain exactly what they intend to do with them, but I can only assume that they're being prepared for transit to the transit hub in Toronto, for transport to the Paris laboratories... However, I am afraid of what they may do when they learn of HCF's assault on the train; after all, it wouldn't be below Umbrella to order the release of the MA-121s, the MA-103s, and the two T-104 units, just to prevent HCF from succeeding.
As I write this, I'm watching the heavily-armed security guard in this room, a kind, albeit very ignorant man, pace about, his eyes darting around the room, and occasionally lingering on me. It's an innocent look: a look of one with no evil intents, and no knowledge of the true nature of the world. It's obvious that he's just an expendable Umbrella minion; I almost regret that I have to kill him. However, it's essential to guarantee that he's unable to engage the locks in this area, or alert the TRUE security team on the train before HCF secures this part of the train. They'll be breaching this window, and it will be imperative for this sentry to already be lying a pool of his own blood, so that the HCF troops will be certain that it's not a trap.
There's forty seconds to the invasion, and his back is turned. My hands are clenched around my pistol; it's time to act.
Author's Note: Well, basically, that was the epilogue to the "Lonely Lover's Lament" arc. The point-of-view will still be Rebecca's first person, but no longer will it be in a diary form, for the next arc, at least. I must express an extreme amount of gratitude toward all those that have offered such amazing support, and, naturally, my favorite whip- wielder, Cherry.
Preview of next arc:
Drawing my pistol, I took aim at the poor, unassuming sentry's head. I didn't relish this, but I had no choice; it was essential for the invasion to succeed flawlessly. My eyes closing briefly, I applied a gentle, but gradually increasing pressure to the trigger, a brief 'puff' emanating from the suppressed pistol and a gentle metallic clatter as the casing rolled about the ground of the cabin.
Hearing his body tumble to the floor with a gentle thud, the sub-machinegun falling from his grip, I looked up, unconsciously closing my eyes upon seeing the sentry, little more than a boy, with a trickle of red running from the gaping wound in his skull, an unknowing expression forever painted upon his face. Standing, I stood away from the window, a crash issuing just as my watch beeped, one of the large panes imploding...