OK, OK, I know that this ending is WAY anticlimactic. It's all cut-and-dried, nice and easy for our people here. But I'm not good at writing monster fight scenes...well at least I tried to make up for it with lots of detail ^_^; Also please remember that I've never actually played RE3, so I don't know if the chopper that Barry is in has a door to the cockpit, or if you can see the skyline of Raccoon from the factory roof. I just decided "yes" for both of them, but if I'm wrong feel free to tell me. This is the last *real* chapter, actual epilouges should be up soon, plus a sequel; watch for "Planet Hell" in a few weeks! Cheers!
S.T.A.R.S. Girl
Claire backed away slowly from the elevator duct. Carlos caught Sherry by the shoulders and pushed her back. He took his gun from its holster, but at this point the only weapon he possessed with ammo in it was a miniscule semi. He clicked back the hammer nonetheless. Claire yanked out her pistol, shotgun long since discarded.
Footsteps behind her; she chanced looking back to see Leon motioning for Brad and Jill to signal the chopper, instruct a safe landing, while he and those near the shaft would hold until it landed against the new enemy. Redfield turned her head around, back to the problem at hand.
The grindings and sounds of destruction grew louder and more incessant from the passage-shaft, until Claire and Carlos had backed a decent way away from the clamorous crashes and bangs.
Suddenly the closed, acid-stained doors began to shake. They bent and suddenly-with a horrible peal-a pulsing, disfigured and oversized fist, large enough to hold Claire up, split through them, shattering the greasy air of the roof. Sherry screamed and Carlos suddenly shoved her behind him, rough enough so that she stumbled and nearly fell, but than ran in Jill's direction, looking behind her with glittering eyes and wavering, open mouth. Jill caught her in her arms on the opposite side of the roof. "I should be helping," the S.T.A.R. breathed.
It wasn't a second before a large, scab-smudged chest and head tore the framing of the doors aside, the crushed metal being scrunched into sharp heaps at doorframe's edges. The creature, sparse blonde hair like a cadaver, rolling eyes and long, steely, crimson-streaked claws, shoved itself through and stood-full height-in front of Claire and Carlos. Exposed muscles throbbed eerily, boasting ill-gotten strength. Resemblance to a man was...nearly non-existant. Claire shrunk back, repulsed more than before. And he had done this too...himself?!
The chimera threw back its head and screamed through lips nearly burned together, folds of translucent skin dripping over the mouth. The sound was anguished, a mix of a broken train whistle and an agony last screamed. And then the things great claws came down and slashed right through the concrete of the roof. Claire knew they would melt through her like butter.
And even as she thought that, she heard the sounds of a chopper growing louder, the flowing blue beams from its searchlights intensifying, roaring of the wings sharpening. It would be landing soon. Good, she thought. We can't have much time left...
Dragging its decaying limbs, Birkin scrapped itself towards them, one light arm moving wildly with flashing claws. "Lovely," Claire spat and raised her pistol. No good, no good. She knew.
But what COULD she do? One shot, two, three, and the Thing only wavered, reeling, but still slumping closer sluggishly. Many shots, issued too fast to count, and nothing; nothing.
Or maybe not. The Thing seemed like...it was dying. Dying? How? Why? She stared intently while continuing to barrage it. Bullet wounds! She realised suddenly. Not by their weapons: machine gun blasts. Carmine blood still dripped feverishly from the injuries. Yesssss, thought Claire. A point in their favor! But something else... She spied something stuck on one claw. Part of a uniform...? In the tumult she could barely read the word: Hunk.
She nearly jumped when she felt a light tap on her back; Leon! He held up a shotgun, taking deliberate aim, and firing openly. This seemed to have some effect on the Thing: it slowed and screamed again. He fired more and more, stopping occasionally to put in more shells, Claire and Carlos firing uselessly, or maybe importantly, who knew; but soon the Thing fell over and clawed at the ground, wailing. Claire covered her ears, not only to the scream of a wounded giant, but to the increasingly deafening the sounds of the helicopter.
She turned and saw a huge chopper set itself down not far from her, rotating blades speeding, faster and than slower, stilling, but never stopping. Brad started motioning for the others to come, it was time to go everybody on. Leon took Claire's shoulder and they ran, with quick steps, towards the 'copter.
The wings were still whirring, blowing Claire's hair away from her face and making her azure eyes water. "COME ON," Leon screamed, stepping up through an open, sliding-type hanger door. It was dark inside the helicopter, disused equipment hanging on its walls, but thank god they had a way out. Carlos heaved himself on next, then he and Leon helped Sherry up, who was sniffling and quickly grabbed Leon's arm, cowering. Claire took a step closer them all but stopped.
Looking behind her, she could see that Jill and Brad were hanging back. One could see the city skyline from here, dark and smouldering now. What had it once looked like? This had been their city... Both stared with lost expressions at the husk of this place. Than Brad suddenly lifted his head and shook his head left and right as to snap out of some sort of trance, lightly tapping Jill's arm. She turned back and gave him a deep expression.
Claire looked out over the skyline too; a faint rain washed the empty buildings and streets in silver. Bluish-grey clouds rolled over the top of the burg. Smoke rose here and there. The spiral of the church Jill had lain in was just visible. The R.P.D. could be seen barely inside some shadowy fumes. This site was empty now: all of it.
She turned back towards the helicopter and let herself be helped inside. Brad and Jill clambered in next; all of them. Sherry wiggled until she was against the far wall from the hatch, which Carlos dragged closed and secured. From the front Barry called back to them-- "Is that everyone?"
"It is. Let's roll," said Jill. She put a hand poignantly on the door. "OK," Barry yelled back over the spinning wings. A slight jolt, and Claire's stomach seemed to float for a second-they were rising. She breathed in shallowly. Going...Chris... she waved pitiably at nothing in particular. No windows except in front, they all saw-and faintly, over the radio, voices suddenly could be heard.
"U.S.A. Firebomber #45 commencing to bombard Raccoon City," it crackled dimly. "Starting in 34 minutes." "Thir...Damn! We'll barely have time to get out of the city!" Brad said from the back. "We'll make it!" Barry called from the front. "You wanna take the controls?" Brad shook his head; too exhausted. "Fine then-leave it to me!" Barry said.
Claire huddled against the cold chopper walls, lined with army-green mesh. Leon was sitting next to her, legs drawn in close, hands folded and fingers twiddling. He glanced na•vely at Claire, who smiled. She looked at the others in the chopper.
Jill: crystalline eyes of hard-edged blue, short chestnut hair, a true-blue kind of friend, high moraled and strong. Brad: Concerned eyes of hazel, sandy brown hair, a guy who'd had enough grief, who was good at heart, who was trying to change. Carlos: thick black eyes, like a cats but kind, thick black, longish hair, tanned complexion, almost a player, a womanizer, but not quite. Leon: caramel-coloured hair, cinnamon-coloured eyes, clean cut, a total law-abiding citizen, slightly gullible but sweet. Sherry: lemon hair, deep aqua eyes, smart but quiet, always playing the part of a frightened child but much more than that inside. Then there was Claire herself: mahogany hair, cerulean eyes, resourceful, exuberant, Chris' little sister, like him in so many ways. That had been their team. She smiled gently, sinking back, eyelids heavy from weariness. She'd been going non-stop for about two days, ignoring the brief nap in the cathedral.
Sherry was sitting next to Carlos, eyes heavy not with sleep but sorrow, tears sparkling before they fell softly down her face. Carlos was running his hands through his hair, too tired to care about whether they'd make it out of the city with time to spare.
Jill sat next to Brad, staring sadly straight ahead, both of them. But suddenly she turned to him and asked him something lowly. He shrugged and she sighed. Then she put one hand on his arm.
Claire didn't notice. She had slumped over and her head was leaning on Leon's shoulder. She was already in slumber, eyes closed and breathing still. Leon made no move to disturb her; she must be worn out, and she was really warm...he made every effort to hold his own eyes open, but couldn't. Even asleep his thoughts turned to Ada. Ada....
Jill shook her head to shake the sleep from it. She looked next to her. Brad looked like he was asleep. So did the others in the chopper. Sherry was laying against the back 'copter wall, Carlos against the side wall. Claire's head was resting on Leon's shoulder, but his eyes were closed as well. She smiled, stifling a small giggle. Then she turned back to Brad. "Brad, hey Brad," she said, shaking his shoulder lightly. "W...What?" he said groggily, looking at her while he rubbed his eyes. "Let's talk to Barry. And-shhh," she said, motioning to the stilled forms around them. He nodded and helped her up a little.
The cockpit door was closed at this point, but Jill silently tugged it open and stepped inside the tiny piloting space quickly. "Thanks," she said to Barry, who waved at her as he maneuvered the chopper. "No problem, you guys," he said. Brad sat down in the co-pilot's seat, and Jill leaned on both seat backs. "I guess it's all gone...Raccoon," Jill said quietly. "Yes," said Barry. "You missed one big-ass light show, kids." Jill sighed, then lifted up her leg and took something folded out of her boot. "What's that?" Brad asked.
She un-crinkled the glossy papers and both Barry and Brad's eyes widened. It was the S.T.A.R.S. Team photo. Everyone, besides Becca, who hadn't joined yet. Some other polaroids were mixed in too, pictures of the S.T.A.R.S. early days or of them hanging out together. First joined, different uniforms, new offices-it was all there. Their history. Jill smiled wistfully. "I couldn't leave them. It's who we are." The other two nodded.
Suddenly the radio crackled again. It was a government broadcast. All three listened as the newscaster's top news story, which was, of course, the nuclear strike on Raccoon. "The President and Congress planned and executed the destruction Raccoon City, which has been literally wiped off the map. More than a hundred thousand casualties are expected. Our hearts go out to the citizens... of Raccoon City."
Jill reached out her hand so that both Brad and Barry could see it. "S.T.A.R.S." she said. "S.T.A.R.S." said Brad, putting his hand on top of hers, than Barry gave a "S.T.A.R.S." and did the same.
~Fin~
S.T.A.R.S. Girl
Claire backed away slowly from the elevator duct. Carlos caught Sherry by the shoulders and pushed her back. He took his gun from its holster, but at this point the only weapon he possessed with ammo in it was a miniscule semi. He clicked back the hammer nonetheless. Claire yanked out her pistol, shotgun long since discarded.
Footsteps behind her; she chanced looking back to see Leon motioning for Brad and Jill to signal the chopper, instruct a safe landing, while he and those near the shaft would hold until it landed against the new enemy. Redfield turned her head around, back to the problem at hand.
The grindings and sounds of destruction grew louder and more incessant from the passage-shaft, until Claire and Carlos had backed a decent way away from the clamorous crashes and bangs.
Suddenly the closed, acid-stained doors began to shake. They bent and suddenly-with a horrible peal-a pulsing, disfigured and oversized fist, large enough to hold Claire up, split through them, shattering the greasy air of the roof. Sherry screamed and Carlos suddenly shoved her behind him, rough enough so that she stumbled and nearly fell, but than ran in Jill's direction, looking behind her with glittering eyes and wavering, open mouth. Jill caught her in her arms on the opposite side of the roof. "I should be helping," the S.T.A.R. breathed.
It wasn't a second before a large, scab-smudged chest and head tore the framing of the doors aside, the crushed metal being scrunched into sharp heaps at doorframe's edges. The creature, sparse blonde hair like a cadaver, rolling eyes and long, steely, crimson-streaked claws, shoved itself through and stood-full height-in front of Claire and Carlos. Exposed muscles throbbed eerily, boasting ill-gotten strength. Resemblance to a man was...nearly non-existant. Claire shrunk back, repulsed more than before. And he had done this too...himself?!
The chimera threw back its head and screamed through lips nearly burned together, folds of translucent skin dripping over the mouth. The sound was anguished, a mix of a broken train whistle and an agony last screamed. And then the things great claws came down and slashed right through the concrete of the roof. Claire knew they would melt through her like butter.
And even as she thought that, she heard the sounds of a chopper growing louder, the flowing blue beams from its searchlights intensifying, roaring of the wings sharpening. It would be landing soon. Good, she thought. We can't have much time left...
Dragging its decaying limbs, Birkin scrapped itself towards them, one light arm moving wildly with flashing claws. "Lovely," Claire spat and raised her pistol. No good, no good. She knew.
But what COULD she do? One shot, two, three, and the Thing only wavered, reeling, but still slumping closer sluggishly. Many shots, issued too fast to count, and nothing; nothing.
Or maybe not. The Thing seemed like...it was dying. Dying? How? Why? She stared intently while continuing to barrage it. Bullet wounds! She realised suddenly. Not by their weapons: machine gun blasts. Carmine blood still dripped feverishly from the injuries. Yesssss, thought Claire. A point in their favor! But something else... She spied something stuck on one claw. Part of a uniform...? In the tumult she could barely read the word: Hunk.
She nearly jumped when she felt a light tap on her back; Leon! He held up a shotgun, taking deliberate aim, and firing openly. This seemed to have some effect on the Thing: it slowed and screamed again. He fired more and more, stopping occasionally to put in more shells, Claire and Carlos firing uselessly, or maybe importantly, who knew; but soon the Thing fell over and clawed at the ground, wailing. Claire covered her ears, not only to the scream of a wounded giant, but to the increasingly deafening the sounds of the helicopter.
She turned and saw a huge chopper set itself down not far from her, rotating blades speeding, faster and than slower, stilling, but never stopping. Brad started motioning for the others to come, it was time to go everybody on. Leon took Claire's shoulder and they ran, with quick steps, towards the 'copter.
The wings were still whirring, blowing Claire's hair away from her face and making her azure eyes water. "COME ON," Leon screamed, stepping up through an open, sliding-type hanger door. It was dark inside the helicopter, disused equipment hanging on its walls, but thank god they had a way out. Carlos heaved himself on next, then he and Leon helped Sherry up, who was sniffling and quickly grabbed Leon's arm, cowering. Claire took a step closer them all but stopped.
Looking behind her, she could see that Jill and Brad were hanging back. One could see the city skyline from here, dark and smouldering now. What had it once looked like? This had been their city... Both stared with lost expressions at the husk of this place. Than Brad suddenly lifted his head and shook his head left and right as to snap out of some sort of trance, lightly tapping Jill's arm. She turned back and gave him a deep expression.
Claire looked out over the skyline too; a faint rain washed the empty buildings and streets in silver. Bluish-grey clouds rolled over the top of the burg. Smoke rose here and there. The spiral of the church Jill had lain in was just visible. The R.P.D. could be seen barely inside some shadowy fumes. This site was empty now: all of it.
She turned back towards the helicopter and let herself be helped inside. Brad and Jill clambered in next; all of them. Sherry wiggled until she was against the far wall from the hatch, which Carlos dragged closed and secured. From the front Barry called back to them-- "Is that everyone?"
"It is. Let's roll," said Jill. She put a hand poignantly on the door. "OK," Barry yelled back over the spinning wings. A slight jolt, and Claire's stomach seemed to float for a second-they were rising. She breathed in shallowly. Going...Chris... she waved pitiably at nothing in particular. No windows except in front, they all saw-and faintly, over the radio, voices suddenly could be heard.
"U.S.A. Firebomber #45 commencing to bombard Raccoon City," it crackled dimly. "Starting in 34 minutes." "Thir...Damn! We'll barely have time to get out of the city!" Brad said from the back. "We'll make it!" Barry called from the front. "You wanna take the controls?" Brad shook his head; too exhausted. "Fine then-leave it to me!" Barry said.
Claire huddled against the cold chopper walls, lined with army-green mesh. Leon was sitting next to her, legs drawn in close, hands folded and fingers twiddling. He glanced na•vely at Claire, who smiled. She looked at the others in the chopper.
Jill: crystalline eyes of hard-edged blue, short chestnut hair, a true-blue kind of friend, high moraled and strong. Brad: Concerned eyes of hazel, sandy brown hair, a guy who'd had enough grief, who was good at heart, who was trying to change. Carlos: thick black eyes, like a cats but kind, thick black, longish hair, tanned complexion, almost a player, a womanizer, but not quite. Leon: caramel-coloured hair, cinnamon-coloured eyes, clean cut, a total law-abiding citizen, slightly gullible but sweet. Sherry: lemon hair, deep aqua eyes, smart but quiet, always playing the part of a frightened child but much more than that inside. Then there was Claire herself: mahogany hair, cerulean eyes, resourceful, exuberant, Chris' little sister, like him in so many ways. That had been their team. She smiled gently, sinking back, eyelids heavy from weariness. She'd been going non-stop for about two days, ignoring the brief nap in the cathedral.
Sherry was sitting next to Carlos, eyes heavy not with sleep but sorrow, tears sparkling before they fell softly down her face. Carlos was running his hands through his hair, too tired to care about whether they'd make it out of the city with time to spare.
Jill sat next to Brad, staring sadly straight ahead, both of them. But suddenly she turned to him and asked him something lowly. He shrugged and she sighed. Then she put one hand on his arm.
Claire didn't notice. She had slumped over and her head was leaning on Leon's shoulder. She was already in slumber, eyes closed and breathing still. Leon made no move to disturb her; she must be worn out, and she was really warm...he made every effort to hold his own eyes open, but couldn't. Even asleep his thoughts turned to Ada. Ada....
Jill shook her head to shake the sleep from it. She looked next to her. Brad looked like he was asleep. So did the others in the chopper. Sherry was laying against the back 'copter wall, Carlos against the side wall. Claire's head was resting on Leon's shoulder, but his eyes were closed as well. She smiled, stifling a small giggle. Then she turned back to Brad. "Brad, hey Brad," she said, shaking his shoulder lightly. "W...What?" he said groggily, looking at her while he rubbed his eyes. "Let's talk to Barry. And-shhh," she said, motioning to the stilled forms around them. He nodded and helped her up a little.
The cockpit door was closed at this point, but Jill silently tugged it open and stepped inside the tiny piloting space quickly. "Thanks," she said to Barry, who waved at her as he maneuvered the chopper. "No problem, you guys," he said. Brad sat down in the co-pilot's seat, and Jill leaned on both seat backs. "I guess it's all gone...Raccoon," Jill said quietly. "Yes," said Barry. "You missed one big-ass light show, kids." Jill sighed, then lifted up her leg and took something folded out of her boot. "What's that?" Brad asked.
She un-crinkled the glossy papers and both Barry and Brad's eyes widened. It was the S.T.A.R.S. Team photo. Everyone, besides Becca, who hadn't joined yet. Some other polaroids were mixed in too, pictures of the S.T.A.R.S. early days or of them hanging out together. First joined, different uniforms, new offices-it was all there. Their history. Jill smiled wistfully. "I couldn't leave them. It's who we are." The other two nodded.
Suddenly the radio crackled again. It was a government broadcast. All three listened as the newscaster's top news story, which was, of course, the nuclear strike on Raccoon. "The President and Congress planned and executed the destruction Raccoon City, which has been literally wiped off the map. More than a hundred thousand casualties are expected. Our hearts go out to the citizens... of Raccoon City."
Jill reached out her hand so that both Brad and Barry could see it. "S.T.A.R.S." she said. "S.T.A.R.S." said Brad, putting his hand on top of hers, than Barry gave a "S.T.A.R.S." and did the same.
~Fin~