Jill Valentine swore to herself as she gathered up her gear. Those Umbrella bastards were
responsible for this, she knew it. She didn't know exactly how they could be, but she knew they
were. Not even those fools were crazy enough to let the t-virus out on purpose. And Umbrella was
very careful about keeping its viruses under raps at all times. Of course it had broken out in
the Spencer mansion as well... the renewed pounding on her apartment door drew her rather
forcefully out of these thoughts. Escape first. Rage later. Rather stupidly, Jill only had a
Bereta 92, although with enough rounds to anniahlate an army. Unfortunately, she didn't have many
places to put said rounds. She had been hoping to remain a little longer before having to run for
it, but the pounding on the door to her apartment was testament to the fact that she had run out
of time. And they had caught her wearing a miniskirt and tube top, meaning that (a) she had few
places to store things and (b) much of her
skin was exposed. This was mainly a psychological disadvantage, but still... She held her loaded
bereta in one hand, stuffing clips into her waistband with the other, shooting nervous glances
towards the pile of furnature for now blockading the door. She wondered why the hell she hadn't
gotten a bigger gun. Granted she had quit STARS, and so she couldn't get easy access to large
weapons, but still--why the hell, she swore at herself, didn't she go out and buy a simple
goddamn shotgun? She had KNOWN she would have to leave, what the hell had she been thinking?
The splintering crash of her furnature givving told her that she had run out of
contemplation time. Zombies began to poor in from the hallway. Jill Valentine did not falter,
raising her pistol and re-dispatching zombie after zombie with carefully-aimed headshots.
But there were just too many of them. Jill had to run. She sprinted to the window, wrenched
it open, and began climbing quickly down her fire escape. The zombies blindly followed, but did
not possess the coordination to climb down the ladder after her, and simply fell bonelessly out
the window. Unfortunately, this got them to the ground faster then Jill, who was not dead and had
to worry about crippling injuries. The zombies did not have such an impediment, and while many of
them had landed on their heads and all of them were lying on the ground in pain, this would not
stay the case for long. Jill jumped off the ladder with three rungs to go and started running the
instant her feet hit the pavement.
Brad "Chickenheart" Vickers was also running in another section of Raccoon City, but he was
in much deeper trouble than Jill. As far as he could tell it was just that... that one thing
chasing him, but it was certainly enough. As he ran, he scribbled a note to himself, if only to
keep himself sain:
Oh, god! Its that monster in the black suit again! Its been chasing me for so long... What did I
do? What did I do to deserve this? I know its going to catch me, I know it... there is no escape
for me. I'm doomed. It will eventually catch me, no matter how long I hide. I wonder if the
spring flowers are in bloom back home... ....I wish I could see them before I die.
Brad continued to run, forgetting the note almost instantaneously after he wrote it. He
eventually dropped it somewhere--he neither knew nor cared where.
Brad whipped around the corner of an alleyway and came up against--a dead end. The
terminology was entirely accurate, Brad noted with a sinking feeling in his chest. Glancing
behind him, he had a faint glimmer of hope: zombies were hot on his heels. He had no idea when
they had appeared, but his chance against eight zombies was better then his chance against--that.
But he underestimated the space. Very soon, Brad ran out of it. This was it for Brad Vickers. He
knew this, and voiced one loud long and despairing scream who no one would be able to hear but
the implacable and uncaring undead fiends, a scream which, if someone had been present to hear
it, would have been ignored in a city full of such screams.
Except that there was a person there to hear it. That person was Jill Valentine. She had
easily lost the zombies trailing her, and was heading the hell out of there, when she heard the
scream and recognised it as that bastard Chickenheart. Jill had never forgivven him for his
cowardice at the Spencer mansion, where he had taken off the instant the Cerbruses had appeared,
leaving her and the rest of the team stranded and forced to take refuge in that... deathtrap of a
mansion. But, although Brad WAS a yellow bastard, he didn't deserve being eaten alive--nobody
did. Well, except maybe Wesker...
Brad brought up his Smith and Wessin 1076 and began firing at heads. One, two, three down,
and then the rest were upon him, serging forward to rip large chunks from his abdomen with their
teeth. He brought his arm down hard on the top of one's head, disintigrating the fragile bones on
its skull, then leaned hard to the left and fired a round into the zombie's exposed brain to
complete the job, spraying it all over the wall. But there were still three left, and his wild
move to escape had put him in in a corner, and the remaining three zombies were just inches away.
They surged forward en mass--
--and were felled by three well-aimed shots from Jill's bereta. They dropped bonelessly to
the ground at Brad's feet.
"... Jill?" Brad asked, shaking, his face chalky white.
"Situation proove too dangerous for you again, Chickenheart?" Jill asked mockingly.
"Sh-shut up. Look, goddamnit, how many times do I have to appologyze to you people for
that?"
"Appologyze? Brad, we could have DIED! Do you understand that? DIED! Me, Barry, Chris, we
could have died so many times over all because of you... there's no appology necessary, Brad. Its
pointless."
"So are you going to bitch me out or are you going to remember that you just saved my life?"
"Both, actually," Jill replied with a self-mocking smile. "Come on--if it wasn't obvious by
now we need to get the CHRIST out of here."
"Yeah--we need to go. NOW."
"Is there something you're not telling me, Brad?"
"Yes. There's this thing--it keeps chasing me. It's fucking HUGE, Jill!"
"Probably a Tyrant. Great, that's the LAST thing we need."
"This is not a tyrant, Jill. You forget, I was there when you fought the Tyrant, and this is
not a Tyrant. I, do not know what this is. This... is something else. And ya know what? Its after
STARS members."
"No. No way. That's just paranoia. There's no way an Umbrella bioweapon could target anybody
particularly."
"Its not paranoia, goddamnit! Its--"
Chickenheart never got to finish his sentence, because at that precise moment some sort of
tentacle broke through the brick wall at the end of the alleyway and continued right on through,
reaching the back of Brad's skull at an incredible speed and force, driving straight through and
into his brain. The tentacle hoisted Brad up into the air and shook him like a rag doll, making
some very unpleasant-sounding squelches, before withdrawing and sending Brad's corpse crashing to
the ground. Jill had barely enough time to plunder Brad for his weapon and amunition before the
creature that caused his death made its appearance by walking straight through what remained of
the brick wall without appearing to notice it was there.
Brad was right--it wasn't a Tyrant, and it was fucking huge. It towered over jill at a
height of at least nine feet, its single eye yellow and owl-like as it swept over her as though
assessing her. The side of its head where a second eye would be was simply a stitched-together
patch of skin. It wore a black trenchcoat over its body in a rediculous attempt at mimmicing a
human being. Under it, Jill could see tentacles writhing around as though its body structure was
made from them. The creature's mouth was a permenant rictus, its fangs bared in a grimace that
never left its face. The creature spoke one word: "SSTAAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRSSSSSS...
SSSTAAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRS..." So, Brad had been right about that, too. Jill did the only sensible thing she could think of: she ran.
responsible for this, she knew it. She didn't know exactly how they could be, but she knew they
were. Not even those fools were crazy enough to let the t-virus out on purpose. And Umbrella was
very careful about keeping its viruses under raps at all times. Of course it had broken out in
the Spencer mansion as well... the renewed pounding on her apartment door drew her rather
forcefully out of these thoughts. Escape first. Rage later. Rather stupidly, Jill only had a
Bereta 92, although with enough rounds to anniahlate an army. Unfortunately, she didn't have many
places to put said rounds. She had been hoping to remain a little longer before having to run for
it, but the pounding on the door to her apartment was testament to the fact that she had run out
of time. And they had caught her wearing a miniskirt and tube top, meaning that (a) she had few
places to store things and (b) much of her
skin was exposed. This was mainly a psychological disadvantage, but still... She held her loaded
bereta in one hand, stuffing clips into her waistband with the other, shooting nervous glances
towards the pile of furnature for now blockading the door. She wondered why the hell she hadn't
gotten a bigger gun. Granted she had quit STARS, and so she couldn't get easy access to large
weapons, but still--why the hell, she swore at herself, didn't she go out and buy a simple
goddamn shotgun? She had KNOWN she would have to leave, what the hell had she been thinking?
The splintering crash of her furnature givving told her that she had run out of
contemplation time. Zombies began to poor in from the hallway. Jill Valentine did not falter,
raising her pistol and re-dispatching zombie after zombie with carefully-aimed headshots.
But there were just too many of them. Jill had to run. She sprinted to the window, wrenched
it open, and began climbing quickly down her fire escape. The zombies blindly followed, but did
not possess the coordination to climb down the ladder after her, and simply fell bonelessly out
the window. Unfortunately, this got them to the ground faster then Jill, who was not dead and had
to worry about crippling injuries. The zombies did not have such an impediment, and while many of
them had landed on their heads and all of them were lying on the ground in pain, this would not
stay the case for long. Jill jumped off the ladder with three rungs to go and started running the
instant her feet hit the pavement.
Brad "Chickenheart" Vickers was also running in another section of Raccoon City, but he was
in much deeper trouble than Jill. As far as he could tell it was just that... that one thing
chasing him, but it was certainly enough. As he ran, he scribbled a note to himself, if only to
keep himself sain:
Oh, god! Its that monster in the black suit again! Its been chasing me for so long... What did I
do? What did I do to deserve this? I know its going to catch me, I know it... there is no escape
for me. I'm doomed. It will eventually catch me, no matter how long I hide. I wonder if the
spring flowers are in bloom back home... ....I wish I could see them before I die.
Brad continued to run, forgetting the note almost instantaneously after he wrote it. He
eventually dropped it somewhere--he neither knew nor cared where.
Brad whipped around the corner of an alleyway and came up against--a dead end. The
terminology was entirely accurate, Brad noted with a sinking feeling in his chest. Glancing
behind him, he had a faint glimmer of hope: zombies were hot on his heels. He had no idea when
they had appeared, but his chance against eight zombies was better then his chance against--that.
But he underestimated the space. Very soon, Brad ran out of it. This was it for Brad Vickers. He
knew this, and voiced one loud long and despairing scream who no one would be able to hear but
the implacable and uncaring undead fiends, a scream which, if someone had been present to hear
it, would have been ignored in a city full of such screams.
Except that there was a person there to hear it. That person was Jill Valentine. She had
easily lost the zombies trailing her, and was heading the hell out of there, when she heard the
scream and recognised it as that bastard Chickenheart. Jill had never forgivven him for his
cowardice at the Spencer mansion, where he had taken off the instant the Cerbruses had appeared,
leaving her and the rest of the team stranded and forced to take refuge in that... deathtrap of a
mansion. But, although Brad WAS a yellow bastard, he didn't deserve being eaten alive--nobody
did. Well, except maybe Wesker...
Brad brought up his Smith and Wessin 1076 and began firing at heads. One, two, three down,
and then the rest were upon him, serging forward to rip large chunks from his abdomen with their
teeth. He brought his arm down hard on the top of one's head, disintigrating the fragile bones on
its skull, then leaned hard to the left and fired a round into the zombie's exposed brain to
complete the job, spraying it all over the wall. But there were still three left, and his wild
move to escape had put him in in a corner, and the remaining three zombies were just inches away.
They surged forward en mass--
--and were felled by three well-aimed shots from Jill's bereta. They dropped bonelessly to
the ground at Brad's feet.
"... Jill?" Brad asked, shaking, his face chalky white.
"Situation proove too dangerous for you again, Chickenheart?" Jill asked mockingly.
"Sh-shut up. Look, goddamnit, how many times do I have to appologyze to you people for
that?"
"Appologyze? Brad, we could have DIED! Do you understand that? DIED! Me, Barry, Chris, we
could have died so many times over all because of you... there's no appology necessary, Brad. Its
pointless."
"So are you going to bitch me out or are you going to remember that you just saved my life?"
"Both, actually," Jill replied with a self-mocking smile. "Come on--if it wasn't obvious by
now we need to get the CHRIST out of here."
"Yeah--we need to go. NOW."
"Is there something you're not telling me, Brad?"
"Yes. There's this thing--it keeps chasing me. It's fucking HUGE, Jill!"
"Probably a Tyrant. Great, that's the LAST thing we need."
"This is not a tyrant, Jill. You forget, I was there when you fought the Tyrant, and this is
not a Tyrant. I, do not know what this is. This... is something else. And ya know what? Its after
STARS members."
"No. No way. That's just paranoia. There's no way an Umbrella bioweapon could target anybody
particularly."
"Its not paranoia, goddamnit! Its--"
Chickenheart never got to finish his sentence, because at that precise moment some sort of
tentacle broke through the brick wall at the end of the alleyway and continued right on through,
reaching the back of Brad's skull at an incredible speed and force, driving straight through and
into his brain. The tentacle hoisted Brad up into the air and shook him like a rag doll, making
some very unpleasant-sounding squelches, before withdrawing and sending Brad's corpse crashing to
the ground. Jill had barely enough time to plunder Brad for his weapon and amunition before the
creature that caused his death made its appearance by walking straight through what remained of
the brick wall without appearing to notice it was there.
Brad was right--it wasn't a Tyrant, and it was fucking huge. It towered over jill at a
height of at least nine feet, its single eye yellow and owl-like as it swept over her as though
assessing her. The side of its head where a second eye would be was simply a stitched-together
patch of skin. It wore a black trenchcoat over its body in a rediculous attempt at mimmicing a
human being. Under it, Jill could see tentacles writhing around as though its body structure was
made from them. The creature's mouth was a permenant rictus, its fangs bared in a grimace that
never left its face. The creature spoke one word: "SSTAAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRSSSSSS...
SSSTAAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRS..." So, Brad had been right about that, too. Jill did the only sensible thing she could think of: she ran.