Resident Evil-Sins of the Fathers

Act one

"The Curtains open with the rising sun.  The drama has been rehearsed and finely tuned with age, watch it with me."

-"Skin Deep" Kabuki David Mack

Disclaimer: Do I own it? No. Who does? That's a mystery.

Redfield: * cough * CAPCOM * cough *

Author: SILENCE! *Beats silly wif stick *

Washington DC.

March 11, 2032

5:30 ECT.

Senator Morris waved to his driver.

            He chuckled lightly as the woman saluted him and pulled the sleek car out of the parking space and away down the street.  He winced; the pain in his back was bothering him again-

"Linda?"

            He frowned; his young housekeeper was usually there to greet him.  He'd arrived home early-and the dark storm clouds that loomed on the horizon above Washington made it appears if night had come early.  He shrugged; she might be inside making his dinner, or playing with her son…

"Linda Listen," Morris pushed the door in, ignoring the eerie creak and the fact that it was unlocked, " I had a hard day today so don't trouble yourself with dinner okay?"

Silence.

            "Linda?"

Morris's hallway was dimmed, the pale shades of green invisible in the night.  He winced and took a cautious step foreward-

Keys

            Linda's cat key chain was curled against the wall-its smooth outlines invisible against the dark.  Morris touched it cautiously, afraid it would evaporate-

CRUNCH.

            He jumped backward, removing his Italian loafer from the vase filled with daisies.  Linda liked flowers-she felt they brightened up his bachelor pad.  Her husband hadn't been fond of them so Morris had allowed her to place them everywhere…

They now lay spread angelically on the floor beneath him-the vase cracked from where he had stepped on it.

Linda knocked over the vase again. He swore.  He vaguely wondered why the lights hadn't come on in his apartment-they were rigged to turn on when they sensed a warm body-

            Linda's probably in the kitchen-you haven't hooked it up to the grid yet.  You can go into the kitchen and get her.  There's nothing in the side hallway worth your attention.

Morris frowned.  The non-sequitor disturbed him.

            He turned toward the side hallway.  A dim corridor leading to the washroom and the lower bathroom.  His housekeeper-her son-they all slept upstairs-

Nothing, nothing there.  Nothing but darkness, darkness is death right now.  Get to the kitchen, the smell the smell CAN'T YOU SMELL IT!

Instincts he had long since lost were coming alive again.  The smell was remembered-familiar…

Muahhhhhhhhh

A dark shape was shuffling towards him.

            "Linda?"

It couldn't have been her, not Linda.  She might have been injured or hurt-which would explain why she was dragging herself along the hallway, knocking down glass.  But If Linda was hurt the lights wouldn't have gone out because they could sense heat –

Malfunction…yes.  It's a malfunction.  I'll walk foreward and help her.  She's probably cut herself-we'll go to the hospital, go pick up her son-

The thing moaned again.  Morris took a step foreward.

Idiot

He could see her clearer now.  Linda's long black hair hung damp, obscuring her features.  She looked like that horrible monster-child from that movie that had scared everyone…with the videotape…

You know she's dead.

Linda-thing JUMPED.

            "SHIT!" Morris bolted.  Down the hallway into the darkness, upward thunder was shrieking across the sky and raking its lightning claws.  He looked back, just as the lights came on-

Linda flipped her hair back and screamed.

            One eye was rolled back into her head.  Her face had been scarred-cut with a butcher knife-one arm was broken behind her, blood oozed from her mouth…

"Linda…" Morris whimpered, "My god…"

            He had been a private, a young man on the outskirts of midwestern town-with orders to kill anything that attempted to leave its barriers.  He had watched his compatriots shoot a group of survivors-some who looked a lot like Linda did now…

"Linda…" he could plead with the dead, "Linda please…"

Linda roared, throwing her head back again.  The two faced each other in a fierce mockery of video game characters.  He realized that her eyes were milky white-covered with a mucous coating-

She can't see!

He wanted to jump for Joy.

Cautiously, his long dead GI instincts turned back on; he opened the door to the kitchen.  The Linda thing sniffed-and padded over towards him-more animal then human…

He had to get out.

Umbrella…he saw the look in the survivors eyes again Umbrella did this.

It was well known that he was their greatest foe in congress.  One of the few who supported STARS in their almost tyrannical quest to shut down the company…

Something began to scratch at the door.

            Get out, get help.  They can come back and bring Linda back alive, perhaps cure her-

They could do that; the "enlightened" management that had replaced Sir Spencer's evil had created some kind of cure…

Or was it false?

There was no way a natural outbreak like this could have occurred in nature-

"Sir?"

Morris froze.

"Sir? Its Linda."

He frowned.

"Lin-Linda?"

"Yes Sir.  I need to get in there to make dinner." She sounded complacent, and a bit annoyed at her employer for behaving in such a ridiculous manner.

"I see." Morris did not know what to make of this.  One minute she had been out there roaring and crawling around like a rabid dog-and now…

"Linda…"

"Sir?"

"Where is Michael?"

Silence.

Michael was Linda's son, a boy of six.  She doted on him, a side affect of the nasty divorce with her husband.  He was some sort of Researcher at Horizon Chemical Foundation-

"Linda…" Morris began to inch toward the counter.  Lying within reach was a knife rack-the blades glistening.

"Sir." Now Linda sounded impatient, "If you don't let me in I would be able to make dinner."

It's not Linda.  It can't be Linda-Linda wouldn't do this.  Linda would care about Michael-

"Come in." Morris grabbed a thin knife from the wooden block.  They had been a gift from his wife, dead these past two years.

Silence.

"Sir…" Linda sounded confused now, "You-You're going to have-to open the door for me sir.  I…can't see very well."

And he knew.

"Of course." He held the knife at the ready.  Linda was dead, but she could-think.  This meant one of two things:

One: Umbrella had created the ultimate medicinal creation

Two: There was something much deeper at work here.

Either way, his death would validate his existence.  Umbrella, HCF, one of the horrible power-hungry corporations was to blame.  He blamed Umbrella-but he might be wrong.

He'd leave it to those who came after him to figure it out.

Smiling, Senator Morris opened the door to death.

-----------------

HCF Corporate Headquarters

Las Vegas Nevada

March 11, 2032

3:00

The boardroom was located in one of the few skyscrapers that had not, at one point-been a casino.  Ever since the end of WW3 Vegas had grown to a major city-not just "America's Playground."

Mike Walson was sweating profusely, dispite the air conditioning.  He sighed and tried to make himself comfortable again.  The conversation was growing tedious and scientific.

"You've heard my proposal."

The speaker at the end of the table, sitting comfortably in the "Hot Seat" was the cause of Mike's nervous behavior.

"You can't be serious." Karen Poddig, the Microbiology representative was disbelieving, "In fact I'm sure you're joking."

"Would I joke about this?"

Mike firmly believed that the Umbrella Corporation's representative was not the joking type.  Ever since Umbrella had re-risen and promptly announced its existence by destroying the "Gethsemane" faculty that HCF had developed on the outskirts of Paris, HCF had been threatened and forced to make deals.

They were in the grand scheme to make drugs and save lives.

Umbrella was in it for something that nobody could explain.

            "If you're serious." Jack Mazurka said, "Then of course we'll accept your offer.  It is…generous."

Generous.  Mike knew that Umbrella could afford to be generous.  The company had been restarted by a major leverage buy-out of Pfizer and several of the other minor companies that had sprung in their wake.

"We can afford Generosity, after all…we're all friends here."

The Umbrella representative spread his arms wide and Mike felt himself shiver.  Outside the city was beginning to dim and the neon lights were coming on. 

He needed a drink.

"Coming from you that's saying something." Naomi Carter said, grinning, "I mean-if half the stories are true about what you guys are up to-"

Silence.

"I'm afraid I don't know what you mean." The representative's voice was deathly quiet, "We are complying with all rules the Trust Pact allotted us."

"Like the Fuckin' German Government and the Versailles Treaty!" Naomi hooted with laughter.  Mike felt himself grin; Naomi was new, like himself.  This politics crap was bullshit.

"As you say."

Mike felt himself break out in a cold sweat again.  If there ever was a person who personified…darkness as a whole-it had to be this gun.  Zombie thin, pallid, pale-dark brown hair-green eyes hidden behind glasses.

Mad Scientists. He shook his head I never should have left my firm.

"We'll need a signed affidavit from the board of directors." Jones, the Legal man said, "Until then we're more then happy to comply-as long as you meet your end of the bargain."

The Umbrella rep pulled his briefcase up onto the glass table and removed a yellowed sheet of paper.  He handed it to Jones.

"This is signed by all the board?" Jones frowned, "I thought…"

The Rep looked bored, "Problem?"

"There's an Ashford on here."

Here, Mike noted the Rep's grimace.  The young man peered at the document, exaggerating his annoyance.

"Why so there is, Alexander Ashford."

"What the hell are you trying to pull?" Jones stood up, "These names? Birkin, Wesker, Redfield-these are all of the people who were involved in 1998…and 1996!"

            The murmurs of anger were all around the table now.  Mike glanced nervously at Naomi. 

The Representative remained sitting.

"These people are all dead!" Jones continued, "This is bullshit!"

            "Well,"

"You little son of a bitch!" Jones was screaming now-he was the senior man at the table, "You lying little son of a bitch!"

            "Well, well."

            Mike shivered and remembered something that he'd read in a report that had passed across his desk.  Something about family ties-discussed by the traitor-what was his name…

"Well Doctor…" Jones threw down the papers, "no deal."

            "I'll get what I need."

"What? You little shit you actually expect that I'm going to-"

"I expect nothing less."

            "Private conference-" Karen was glaring at all of them, "Now."

Mike blinked.  The Umbrella Rep was busying himself with something in his suitcase.

            "Listen, we should have known that we couldn't trust Umbrella." One of the Other Execs said, "Lets make an example of our young friend here."

An Example? Mike didn't need to hear this, he was money.  He stood slowly and motioned for Naomi to follow him.  He suddenly wanted to leave…now…

"Hey!" his eyes fell on the Umbrella Representative, "What the hell is the matter with you?"

The young man's face was obscured by a gasmask.  Its blue breathing component was loud in the hollow room and the setting sun behind them.  Mike's colleagues were staring at this new device-faces blank and blinking in stupidity.

I'll get what I want. The Boy said, Believe me.

Mike blinked as he saw the boy throw something down on the table spraying a fine gray-green mist about the room.  Mike coughed, Jones was shouting.

Mike felt himself fall foreward staring at the candy of Las Vegas as the Umbrella Employee turned on his heel and left.

---------------

HCF Lower levels.

Sharon was listening to Manson.

Multiply your death

Divide by sex

Add up the violence and

What do you get?

We are all just stars and we're waiting
we are all just scarred and we're hating
we are all just stars on your burning flag

She was banging her head and ignoring the ringing phone just as the man in the gas mask strode out from the lab area.

"Hey!"

            The man kept walking.  The phone's ringing was urgent now; Sharon scratched the back of her neck.  If Mark had put itching powder in her clothes again-

"Hey!"

The man turned.

Yes?

You can point your gun at me
and hope it will go away
if god was alive,
he would hate you anyway

my right wing is flapping
the left one is gray
let's hear it for the kids but
nothing they say
they gyrate and G-rate
on Election Day
we got out ABC's and our F U C K

"Cool Mask."

The man turned on his heel and acknowledged her remark with a barely perceived smile.  He pushed open the glass doors and held it for an elderly woman.

"Thank you." The woman smiled.

The door closed just as the halogen light above her head turned red.

----------

Golgotha Asia

March 12, 2032

Dawn.

The sleek trains that crossed Asia glided back and forth like snakes-dragons-in the rising sun.  The man watched them impassively, Marveling about how this once wasteland-the sight of the battle of blood-was once again bustling.

            "Darling?"

The man looked up.  His wife stood silhouetted in the doorway of their penthouse, her nightshirt clinging to her body.

"Darling…is everything all right?"

Harvey Duvall smiled.

            "Fine."

Half a world away Daniel Birkin was eliminating their biggest competitor.

Robert Wesker was cleaning up the "Congress situation."

            "Fine." He enveloped her in a hug, "Absolutely perfect dear."

"Good." She snuggled against him.

Harvey smiled.  Robert and Daniel had pushed for Spencer's resignation, and ultimate…expiration.  They had honestly believed that the man they elected to become CEO of the Umbrella Corporation was a good person.

He snorted.

            "Darling?" his wife looked up at him expectantly, "Can we go back inside now? Its cold."

Harvey smiled and took her hand.

            Events had already been set in motion leading to this.  STARS would fall.  The cost would be heavy, but three hundred thousand employees were a small price to pay for the satisfaction of killing the people who killed his father.

Actually, it hadn't been STARS…it had been the US government and that Thrice-Damned She-wolf of a Chinese Secret Service agent.  But there were others, Daniel and Robert had stakes in this as well.

No matter, his plan was in motion.

Harvey smiled and closed the screen on the seething city of humanity.

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Author's notes: Chapter one…I'd like to explain some of these chapters if ya don't get it.  Few new characters-mostly children of the old.  Manson lyrics copyright…urr…him * supercilious grin * also, if you have yet to check out Kabuki…I suggest you do this immediately.

READ AND REVIEW PWEESE? Eh my muffins?