((Wooahh, Black Betty, bamalam. Black Betty had a child, bamalam. It died
during childbirth, bamalam. So did she. Bamalam. Atleast I think that's how
the song goes, I could be wrong, my memory is less than faithful. I found
it cheating on me with my subconscious one day. Anyways, here's some filler
mater- er, Grade A Hunkage/Mr. Deathness.))
With Willman out of the way, the purging resumed at double the speed- or so it seemed, anyways. Things were always better when he was alone. Always. In school, at home, and now at work. At the very least Umbrella was kind enough to cater to his needs, providing him with a private dormitory, and for the most part his undisturbed pick of the various training courses whenever he requested it. Typically at the oddest hours of the night, as to make sure that no ambitious Willman-types would bother him while he practiced for the sort of mission he was currently on. None of the other soldiers ever questioned how he got the run of the facilities as he did, they all knew a warrior of his caliber was given extra incentives.
The one thing they did question however, was his perpetually glacial visage. How did the man remain so calm, so grimly indifferent all the time? Whenever somebody was bold enough to ask him face-to-face while traversing the halls or something as such, he'd typically reply with a snide glare and keep walking. Nobody was ever persistent enough to ask twice. The truth was something he kept to himself and on a very rare occasion the Umbrella higher-ups. "When you have nothing, you have nothing to fear." He uttered this to himself, the message becoming lost as it passed through the air filters. Hunk was the pinnacle of emptiness; a human void that took no pleasure, no pain, and simply did what he was good at.
Thinking to himself as he quietly opened the door to one of the lab rooms, and paused only to preemptively brace his weapon for whatever may be inside. So far he'd encountered only a lone infectite in scientist clothing, reading glasses still on and covered in caked bloodstains. He had walked in on it consuming one of its own, the victim was infected, but its empty shell of a body was too useless for any movement beyond twitching. The hungry undead paused in mid-bite, looking up to the intruder with a pitiful glance. It uttered a pathetic moan through crimson-stained jaws filled with the flesh of what could've been its friend at some point, and began to rise at the prospect of fresher meat. The only thing it ate was a bullet.
This has made him wonder why they so rarely resorted to eating their own kind, perhaps the desolate being had some sort of intelligence. In all of his experience of dealing with the marauding creatures, he had come to think of them as some sort of de-evolution from the normal human being. They were more intelligent that your average insect, albeit only a little, and seemed to recognize each other. Only on rare occasions had he seen cannibalism among their ranks, this being one of them. He somewhat respected that trait, regarding it as a shallow code of honor among a lesser species. Perhaps they were spiteful towards humans for having what they do not? Well, no matter. He turned the knob and forced his body forth, and the door along with it.
He had been especially on his toes since the Chimera incident, zombies were one thing but the Bio-Organic Weapons, or BOWs as he had come to know them from briefings, were another matter entirely. The zombies were the plastic wrapping that Umbrella through away, and these things were the product inside. This room seemed a bit... Different than the rest. Typical dark laboratory with those stereotypical glass specimen-containing tubes inside, but the security system struck him as a bit odd. A Hunter was launching itself at him from within, its massive green body flying through the air with a surprising amount of finesse, claws descending towards Hunk's armored face. Apparently it knew that armor wasn't about to stop claws that big.
It paused in midair however, and somewhat jerked back violently, falling to the ground in a fit of animalistic hacking and wheezing. The sound accompanying this was a constant rattling of alloy scraping against itself, which, as soon as Hunk paused long enough not to shoot the creature to pieces, was seen to be a chain. The chain long and thick, something like what he imagined docked small ships. This was attached to a heavy metallic collar, which was about the Hunter's throat. The chain was short, just about short enough to allow the Hunter to roam the areas directly in front of the glass-encased test subjects. It seemed to be a series of the evolution of zombies from left to right; the first of five tubes contained what looked like a normal human, albeit a bit pale, but was actually a slimy-skinned monstrosity that craved flesh. Recent infection.
He glanced at the second while the Hunter milled about somewhat sadly, apparently realizing its situation. As his eyes scanned across the various subjects, he soon saw that there were stages of infection worse than what he had ever seen. The last of them was a stringy husk of flesh with jaws that was supposedly capable of moving, capable of spreading not only infection from the T-virus but from countless various bacteria as well. It was a walking cesspool of disease, and near-impossible to stop since it no longer relied on any vital organs. It couldn't have- they must've rotten away by that point. Umbrella had really stumbled onto a scientific wonder here, he somewhat saw how they could do this to other humans... It WAS interesting, after all.
Either way, he challenged himself to kill the Hunter in less than two shots- and pulled this off by aiming for its eyes. Two gory 'splat' sounds later, he found himself compelled to drain the specimen tanks of the preservation fluid within them that kept the picture-esque zombies sustained. They'd rot away soon, if they were dead yet or not. A quick step over the deceased Hunter, another quick step out the door, and onwards to delving further into the labs.
mater- er, Grade A Hunkage/Mr. Deathness.))
With Willman out of the way, the purging resumed at double the speed- or so it seemed, anyways. Things were always better when he was alone. Always. In school, at home, and now at work. At the very least Umbrella was kind enough to cater to his needs, providing him with a private dormitory, and for the most part his undisturbed pick of the various training courses whenever he requested it. Typically at the oddest hours of the night, as to make sure that no ambitious Willman-types would bother him while he practiced for the sort of mission he was currently on. None of the other soldiers ever questioned how he got the run of the facilities as he did, they all knew a warrior of his caliber was given extra incentives.
The one thing they did question however, was his perpetually glacial visage. How did the man remain so calm, so grimly indifferent all the time? Whenever somebody was bold enough to ask him face-to-face while traversing the halls or something as such, he'd typically reply with a snide glare and keep walking. Nobody was ever persistent enough to ask twice. The truth was something he kept to himself and on a very rare occasion the Umbrella higher-ups. "When you have nothing, you have nothing to fear." He uttered this to himself, the message becoming lost as it passed through the air filters. Hunk was the pinnacle of emptiness; a human void that took no pleasure, no pain, and simply did what he was good at.
Thinking to himself as he quietly opened the door to one of the lab rooms, and paused only to preemptively brace his weapon for whatever may be inside. So far he'd encountered only a lone infectite in scientist clothing, reading glasses still on and covered in caked bloodstains. He had walked in on it consuming one of its own, the victim was infected, but its empty shell of a body was too useless for any movement beyond twitching. The hungry undead paused in mid-bite, looking up to the intruder with a pitiful glance. It uttered a pathetic moan through crimson-stained jaws filled with the flesh of what could've been its friend at some point, and began to rise at the prospect of fresher meat. The only thing it ate was a bullet.
This has made him wonder why they so rarely resorted to eating their own kind, perhaps the desolate being had some sort of intelligence. In all of his experience of dealing with the marauding creatures, he had come to think of them as some sort of de-evolution from the normal human being. They were more intelligent that your average insect, albeit only a little, and seemed to recognize each other. Only on rare occasions had he seen cannibalism among their ranks, this being one of them. He somewhat respected that trait, regarding it as a shallow code of honor among a lesser species. Perhaps they were spiteful towards humans for having what they do not? Well, no matter. He turned the knob and forced his body forth, and the door along with it.
He had been especially on his toes since the Chimera incident, zombies were one thing but the Bio-Organic Weapons, or BOWs as he had come to know them from briefings, were another matter entirely. The zombies were the plastic wrapping that Umbrella through away, and these things were the product inside. This room seemed a bit... Different than the rest. Typical dark laboratory with those stereotypical glass specimen-containing tubes inside, but the security system struck him as a bit odd. A Hunter was launching itself at him from within, its massive green body flying through the air with a surprising amount of finesse, claws descending towards Hunk's armored face. Apparently it knew that armor wasn't about to stop claws that big.
It paused in midair however, and somewhat jerked back violently, falling to the ground in a fit of animalistic hacking and wheezing. The sound accompanying this was a constant rattling of alloy scraping against itself, which, as soon as Hunk paused long enough not to shoot the creature to pieces, was seen to be a chain. The chain long and thick, something like what he imagined docked small ships. This was attached to a heavy metallic collar, which was about the Hunter's throat. The chain was short, just about short enough to allow the Hunter to roam the areas directly in front of the glass-encased test subjects. It seemed to be a series of the evolution of zombies from left to right; the first of five tubes contained what looked like a normal human, albeit a bit pale, but was actually a slimy-skinned monstrosity that craved flesh. Recent infection.
He glanced at the second while the Hunter milled about somewhat sadly, apparently realizing its situation. As his eyes scanned across the various subjects, he soon saw that there were stages of infection worse than what he had ever seen. The last of them was a stringy husk of flesh with jaws that was supposedly capable of moving, capable of spreading not only infection from the T-virus but from countless various bacteria as well. It was a walking cesspool of disease, and near-impossible to stop since it no longer relied on any vital organs. It couldn't have- they must've rotten away by that point. Umbrella had really stumbled onto a scientific wonder here, he somewhat saw how they could do this to other humans... It WAS interesting, after all.
Either way, he challenged himself to kill the Hunter in less than two shots- and pulled this off by aiming for its eyes. Two gory 'splat' sounds later, he found himself compelled to drain the specimen tanks of the preservation fluid within them that kept the picture-esque zombies sustained. They'd rot away soon, if they were dead yet or not. A quick step over the deceased Hunter, another quick step out the door, and onwards to delving further into the labs.
