Chapter Six: Look! Already we're on Chapter Six! Thanks for the Reviews! They really keep me going, as does the story. I seriously like what I'm doing with this-its like-a breakthrough for me.
Anyway on with the show!
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Flashback
1978
Friday
Dr. Marcus turned the leeches' corpse over, exposing its soft underbelly and stickers. The air was hot and musty-from the downed air conditioning. He was wearing a breathing mask however-so the toxic fumes of his beloved virus would do nothing to endanger his being…
They wouldn't harm me anyway. He thought. Confidence that was what he needed to show Spencer. Confidence just like what Wesker and Birkin had-those damn young pups…
"I know he brought them in to replace me." Marcus said to the leech, "The question is why? Could he have found out about my little…escapades?"
The leech, as a matter of reply-twisted its body back and forth like a snake being tortured. Marcus smiled and raised the scalpel cutting directly down the middle.
Ah, those of lower intellect will never be able to share the joy…
He turned up as he heard a thud.
James Marcus had no time to react-let alone scream. The Two commandos raised their guns and fired-the bullets ripping into him…
He was on the floor looking up at Wesker.
We…Wesker… Why?
"Aww, Time to Die Dr. Marcus." Wesker leaned back. Dimly out of the corner of his already fading vision Marcus made out the distinct outline of fifteen-year-old Birkin.
"I will take over your research." Then Birkin threw back his head and laughed. The perfect caricature of the mad scientist.
"We…Wesker…B…Birkin…" with his last amount of strength he twisted his head sideways…
And let the leech envelop him. It changed him-he was no longer the horrible grandfather figure with his bald head-but a young man with a long head of hair and a horrible monster. It reached for the two of them-there was no time to get out and the commandos would be useless…
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1986
"Holy Christ!"
Irene stirred beside Wesker, "Did you have a nightmare darling?" she looked voluptuous in her nightgown-but here eyes were cold.
"Yeah." He sighed, "I can't believe I had that dream again."
Irene rubbed his shoulder fondly, "Have you ever talked to William about it? Maybe he feels the same way you do."
"No." Wesker shook his head, "Men aren't as open as women. I still don't know how you figured out the entire Annette Thing."
"I have my ways." Irene peered outward.
The two had fallen asleep three hours again-the merry noise coming from "below decks" indicated that they had missed dinner-or at least that they were in the process of having it. Outside night had fallen thickly like a black blanket over the world. Irene shook herself and stood her marble skin pale in the night.
"Where do you think William and Annette are?"
"I have no idea." It would be nice to see "Tomcat" Annette again-but he could live without knowing what William was doing. Irene had a thing for him-but Albert Wesker had known William Birkin longer then any of them.
He could live without knowing what was going on.
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Outside
The heavens opened.
They opened upon the Raccoon City firehouse, on most of raccoon, and the surrounding woods.
Which means that-William Birkin and Annette LeDour were caught in the downpour.
"Jesus!" Annette peered upward at the darkening sky accusingly, "Why the heck did you have to go doing this?"
"Don't blame Jesus now." Birkin shook himself, "Blame a formation of clouds occurring at the right time and right place."
"Its wet!" Annette moaned, "And Cold! I want to get back inside!" back inside she could hide herself down in the labs to think upon the events of the afternoon and evening.
"Law and Order's on." William muttered as he walked a few feet away from her, "And it's a new episode!"
"You like Law and Order?"
"You don't?"
"This." Annette put her hands on her soaking hips, "Is a point in your favor."
As the two crept around the back of the house-the world became less dark and more-wet. Annette's T-shirt was drenched-and opened to the waist revealing her undershirt. William's shirt was off-and his jeans were black-tight against his skin.
"Isn't there supposed to be a patrol watching the back?"
Annette yelled above the rain, "It doesn't look like there's anybody here!"
"No." in the dim outline of
the rain William could see the gray humps that made up the back of the
mansion. It was mainly where the
security team stored…security personnel.
There would be someone there who could let them in.
He hoped.
His hope grew faint however, as he and Annette approached the squat buildings with the rain pouring down. The dark obscured everything-making it appear like they were surrounded on all sides by hostile monsters.
"This is creepy." Annette gripped his shoulder, "Really-REALLY creepy." She whimpered and William let her stay hooked to his arm.
This would actually be nice. He was stuck out in the middle of a very wet world with a half-naked woman. Now if only the rain weren't coming down so hard…
"William?"
"Yeah?" their proximity brought their faces within inches. Annette's green eyes were wide with terror.
"I'm a medical doctor…so I'm hoping that I'm wrong…but what's that hanging on the gate?"
He stared foreward. The gate Annette was speaking of was made of rot Iron-some god awful fifties relic that was out of place at the front-and so had been shoved to the back. And on the gate…
"That's a head."
"That's what I thought." From their vantage point it looked like a head of cabbage, or maybe a tomato-something large and red and pulpy.
"No, it's a severed head."
Annette fainted.
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A few minutes later
"You okay?"
"Wha?" Annette peered upward into William Birkin's rain streaked face, his eyes full of concern.
"Aw shucks Auntie Em, there's no place like home. There's no place like home…"
Birkin slapped her, hard.
"What?" she shook herself, "What happened?"
"You fainted. There's a severed head on the gatepost."
"That's really charming Birkin." Annette had fallen into mud-which was now splattered all over her pants, "Really-fucking charming."
"I'm totally serious. You don't think I'd know what a severed head looks like?"
Annette contemplated this.
"Well-what do we do about it?"
Birkin bent his head. The rain was oblivious now, no more then a background in their world. Annette yawned as Birkin stood up, and walked towards the wrought iron gates. She studied his rear intently for a moment-then slapped she.
This is too weird. It was like something out of a bad horror flick-or worse- a bad porno flick.
If he offers to drag me to a secluded canyon with the book of the dead.
"Sir!"
"There you are!"
Several commandos in black appeared out of nowhere.
"Mr. Wesker is expecting you." Birkin hauled Annette to her feet and stared at the two men-fear in both their eyes.
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Meanwhile…
"I love you too." Michael Redfield said, as he hung up the phone. Claire was a sweet kid-Chris at thirteen was getting hard to control. He didn't envy his brother in the coming years…
Who the hell are you kidding? You wish you had a few kids Michael slumped into an armchair and sighed. Before him on his worn out coffee table sat a slice of pizza and a beer-his usual supper.
"Damn."
The game wouldn't be on for another hour-the rain outside would make it difficult for the reception to get through. He was the chief of the fire department-why the fuck couldn't he afford a better house?
Michael stretched and padded to the kitchen to get a glass of water. Lighting flashed-silhouetting the back of the house in front of him. He ignored the shadow that was shifting its way along the Peterson's back porch as he filled a glass with slightly dirty water and padded back to his chair for the game.
"Ah! Redfield! Here in your house you are king." He raised the remote in salute to his own greatness and changed it to channel 6.
"Tonight on Fox: Authorities speculate about weird rumors circulating around the Umbrella Corporation. FBI authorities in Silent Hill led by Special Agent Callahan and Forensic Director Mitchell believe that-"
The familiar sports theme began to play as the Knicks took on the Celtics.
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About a half an hour into the first quarter Michael awoke to a THUMP on his door.
"What?" he peered over at the green alarm clock. 10:30. Too fucking late for people to be wandering about. He might have to call Roxanne at the RPD and have her haul the bum away from his doors.
He padded to the door, completely oblivious to the red lights that were flashing down the street.
He smelled the blood first, the stank reek of fresh death. He recoiled instinctively as the weight of the body forced his door open further, causing the corpse to sprawl across half his hallway.
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Author's note: Wet men and women-a severed head-and a fresh corpse! What more could you ask from RE? Enjoy muchly. Chapter Seven is ON THE WAY!