Resident Evil: Shattered City
Chapter 4
Recap, I don't own Any Resident Evil characters or stories, I do own
Michael and a new character that will be revealed soon.
The next few chapters will be separated by the characters that star in
them.
Also, there is a small tribute to a guy that I've read about, he's not
alive today, he was killed in an incident made famous by a movie and a book, hint, it was a military operation, if you can find out who, you'll
win.a pencil)
M I C H A E L
Michael checked down a hallway, seeing nothing but more blood lining the walls, but the shattered windows along the side made him edgy. He shoulder-rolled across the passage, keeping his gun towards the unsecured area, he reached up and flipped open the breaker box for the shutters, and slammed the handle up, only to leap away from the high-voltage sparks that erupted from the torn wire next to him. Leon moved over and slapped the handle back down, Michael did a quick search and found a half-roll of duct- tape, grabbing the two ends of the wire he quickly rigged them together.
"Duct tape." Leon said, checking back the way they came.
"Sure, Duct tape is like the force, it has a light side, a dark side, and it holds the universe together." Michael said, slapping the handle back up.
The wires sparked under the tape, melting it a bit, but the shutters still clattered down, slamming over the busted-out windows just as the zombified moans erupted from outside, clearly a lot of them.
"Bright." Leon said, moving ahead.
"Glad I thought of it." Michael said, cocking the hammer on his Desert Eagle.
They both moved quietly up the hallway, Leon taking the lead.
He held up a hand, stopping at the edge of a pool of blood, slowly looking up, trying to discover what had made it, he suddenly gasped and backed away.
Michael snapped his gaze upward to see what looked like a skinned man, with massive claws and double-jointed legs crawling across the ceiling.
"What the hell." Michael said, bringing up the Desert Eagle, he fired a single round into the things back, dropping it like a dragonfly drops a mosquito.
"Let's not hang around." Leon said, but too late, the creature suddenly flipped and righted itself on the floor, Michael and Leon both backed off, firing as quickly as they could.
Michael looked over his right shoulder, still firing till his gun clicked empty, he crossed behind Leon and shoved all his weight into a door next to them. It crashed open, revealing a filing closet, but it wasn't empty, as soon as Michael fell in a zombie fell upon him, clawing greedily for his flesh, Michael slammed the Desert Eagle into the zombie's chest so hard the barrel actually impaled the creature with a sickening, slushy sound.
The zombie hesitated, and Michael brought up his next-to-last magazine, slapping it in as soon as the empty fell out, he pulled the slide, released, and yanked the trigger, the blast blowing a basketball-sized hole through the zombies back, it collapsed on him, no longer capable of functioning, but amazingly still alive.
"Nasty." Michael said, shoving the dying creature off of him, wiping the slimy gun on his sweatshirt, he rolled back out the door as Leon stumbled in, fumbling to reload.
The creature out in the hall pounced as soon as Michael completed his roll, pinning him to the floor, his Desert Eagle skittered away out of reach.
The creature opened its mouth, extending its lance-like tongue and diving for the kill.
? ? ? ? ? ?
"Command, this is Nightwind, remind me why we're going into the ass- end of nowhere, Nebraska armed to the teeth, to help clean up a quote- unquote chemical spill that this bullshit Pharmaceutical company said they had handled?"
The Humvee's radio handset crackled for a moment in the trooper's hand.
"Nightwind, Command, Umbrella has nothing to do with your deployment. It was an S.O.S. message received from the Raccoon City S-"
The radio's squelch bar maxed on the green display, clearly stating that the frequency had been scrambled.
The soldier in the passenger seat looked at the display, tapped a few buttons, then smacked the radio. "Not a very good sign, a wide-area scrambler?" He said, returning his gaze out the passenger-side window.
"Well if it is, then this problem is a whole lot worse than suspected." Nightwind said, letting his boot ride a little heavier on the gas.
The Humvee whipped past a sign stating "RACCOON CITY WELCOMES YOU" Nightwind was traveling about 30 miles over the speed limit.
"You wanna slow down a bit Trav? Jeez." The soldier riding shotgun said.
"Our first checkpoint is about 5 minutes at this rate, lock and load." Nightwind said, drawing his pistol, he was a big man, around 5-foot-9 with shoulders that looked to be about 3 feet across, he looked the type of guy that could bench a pickup truck without breaking a sweat.
"Man I wanna go home already." The soldier said, picking up his rifle from the back seat, a high-tech CAR-15/M203, loaded with a 100-round C-MAG and a 40mm High-Explosive Grenade
"Donovan Briley, are you homesick already?" Nightwind chuckled, cocking the hammer on his colt and rolling down his window, something smelled like death.
"You damn right Travis, something smells like shit, and I'm getting bad vibes." Donovan said, nervously cocking the CAR-15's T-Bolt
Travis nodded solemny, he turned onto Ash, the RPD's street, which was where they'd check in with the S.T.A.R.S., as per their orders.
But it seems the locals didn't want them to get to the RPD, a gaggle of about 15 people stood in a group right dead center in the street, not a care in the world, just standing there.
"What's with the Gagglefuck?" Donovan said, unbuckling as the Vehicle slowed down.
Travis brought the Humvee to a stop and grabbed his own weapon, a CAR-15 with an underslung Ithaca "Masterkey" shotgun. He had his weapon outfitted with the latest equipment, Rapid-Acquisition REFLEX sight, laser aiming module, flashlight, and a 100-round C-MAG. He calmly stepped out of the Hummvee and approached the crowd, followed closely by the nervous Donovan.
"What seems to be the problem here people?" Travis's authorative voice cut through their soft mumbling, they all looked incredibly drunk.
Before he could react, the nearest person, a tall man in a nice-looking suit, turned and lunged for him.
"The hell?!" Travis said, kneeing the person in the stomach then rearing back for a kick that sent the crazed person sprawling.
"Travis!" Donovan's frightened voice came from behind him, Travis glanced over his shoulder and had to stop himself from reaching for his grenades. A crowd of about 30 people was stumbling towards them, as the fell under a streetlight, Travis stopped doubting the truth.
"They ain't sick man." He said, his Texan accent coming through.
"They're dead!" He finished, opening fire on the crowd in front of him, the clatter of automatic fire was suddenly muted by a massive BANG! As Donovan pulled the trigger on his M203.
"Hey Bull!" Travis yelled as he dropped another zombie.
"Yea?" Donovan said,
"You know how you're always talking about the environment teaching a soldier things?" Travis yelled, sweeping another zombie with a stream of bullets
"Yea?" Donovan asked, reloading, the zombies were gaining on him fast.
"I think it's trying to teach us to run right now." Travis said.
Donovan screamed, Travis whipped his near-empty rifle around to see 4 zombies lunge and tackle his friend to the ground.
"Bull!" Travis said, kicking one zombie so hard his skull caved in. More zombies joined the group that was feasting on his best friend.
"BULL!" Travis screamed, diving into the pile, but he was suddenly torn away and dragged into a nearby alley.
"Are you batshit mano? Those things could have eaten you alive!" A Latino said to him, he was wearing a UBCS outfit and had a rifle clutched tightly in his right hand.
"Let me go!' Travis said, wrenching his arm from the mans grip, but even he could see it was too late to save his friend, Donovan "Bull" Briley has stopped breathing long before the UBCS had pulled Travis away.
"What's your name?" The UBCS trooper asked.
"Travis Setrand" Travis responded, reloading his Rifle with a 30-round M16 magazine, he had only 1 C-MAG, he kept it in a pouch so he could reload it when he got a chance.
"Carlos Oliviera, Umbrella Biohazard Counte-"
"I know damn well what you are, I'm United States Delta Force." Travis said, cocking his rifle.
"Kickass!" Carlos said.
"Whatever, I need to get to the RPD, can you take me there?" Travis asked, laying the rifle across his shoulder.
"Si, follow me cabron." Carlos said, leading Travis back out onto the street.
Chapter 4
Recap, I don't own Any Resident Evil characters or stories, I do own
Michael and a new character that will be revealed soon.
The next few chapters will be separated by the characters that star in
them.
Also, there is a small tribute to a guy that I've read about, he's not
alive today, he was killed in an incident made famous by a movie and a book, hint, it was a military operation, if you can find out who, you'll
win.a pencil)
M I C H A E L
Michael checked down a hallway, seeing nothing but more blood lining the walls, but the shattered windows along the side made him edgy. He shoulder-rolled across the passage, keeping his gun towards the unsecured area, he reached up and flipped open the breaker box for the shutters, and slammed the handle up, only to leap away from the high-voltage sparks that erupted from the torn wire next to him. Leon moved over and slapped the handle back down, Michael did a quick search and found a half-roll of duct- tape, grabbing the two ends of the wire he quickly rigged them together.
"Duct tape." Leon said, checking back the way they came.
"Sure, Duct tape is like the force, it has a light side, a dark side, and it holds the universe together." Michael said, slapping the handle back up.
The wires sparked under the tape, melting it a bit, but the shutters still clattered down, slamming over the busted-out windows just as the zombified moans erupted from outside, clearly a lot of them.
"Bright." Leon said, moving ahead.
"Glad I thought of it." Michael said, cocking the hammer on his Desert Eagle.
They both moved quietly up the hallway, Leon taking the lead.
He held up a hand, stopping at the edge of a pool of blood, slowly looking up, trying to discover what had made it, he suddenly gasped and backed away.
Michael snapped his gaze upward to see what looked like a skinned man, with massive claws and double-jointed legs crawling across the ceiling.
"What the hell." Michael said, bringing up the Desert Eagle, he fired a single round into the things back, dropping it like a dragonfly drops a mosquito.
"Let's not hang around." Leon said, but too late, the creature suddenly flipped and righted itself on the floor, Michael and Leon both backed off, firing as quickly as they could.
Michael looked over his right shoulder, still firing till his gun clicked empty, he crossed behind Leon and shoved all his weight into a door next to them. It crashed open, revealing a filing closet, but it wasn't empty, as soon as Michael fell in a zombie fell upon him, clawing greedily for his flesh, Michael slammed the Desert Eagle into the zombie's chest so hard the barrel actually impaled the creature with a sickening, slushy sound.
The zombie hesitated, and Michael brought up his next-to-last magazine, slapping it in as soon as the empty fell out, he pulled the slide, released, and yanked the trigger, the blast blowing a basketball-sized hole through the zombies back, it collapsed on him, no longer capable of functioning, but amazingly still alive.
"Nasty." Michael said, shoving the dying creature off of him, wiping the slimy gun on his sweatshirt, he rolled back out the door as Leon stumbled in, fumbling to reload.
The creature out in the hall pounced as soon as Michael completed his roll, pinning him to the floor, his Desert Eagle skittered away out of reach.
The creature opened its mouth, extending its lance-like tongue and diving for the kill.
? ? ? ? ? ?
"Command, this is Nightwind, remind me why we're going into the ass- end of nowhere, Nebraska armed to the teeth, to help clean up a quote- unquote chemical spill that this bullshit Pharmaceutical company said they had handled?"
The Humvee's radio handset crackled for a moment in the trooper's hand.
"Nightwind, Command, Umbrella has nothing to do with your deployment. It was an S.O.S. message received from the Raccoon City S-"
The radio's squelch bar maxed on the green display, clearly stating that the frequency had been scrambled.
The soldier in the passenger seat looked at the display, tapped a few buttons, then smacked the radio. "Not a very good sign, a wide-area scrambler?" He said, returning his gaze out the passenger-side window.
"Well if it is, then this problem is a whole lot worse than suspected." Nightwind said, letting his boot ride a little heavier on the gas.
The Humvee whipped past a sign stating "RACCOON CITY WELCOMES YOU" Nightwind was traveling about 30 miles over the speed limit.
"You wanna slow down a bit Trav? Jeez." The soldier riding shotgun said.
"Our first checkpoint is about 5 minutes at this rate, lock and load." Nightwind said, drawing his pistol, he was a big man, around 5-foot-9 with shoulders that looked to be about 3 feet across, he looked the type of guy that could bench a pickup truck without breaking a sweat.
"Man I wanna go home already." The soldier said, picking up his rifle from the back seat, a high-tech CAR-15/M203, loaded with a 100-round C-MAG and a 40mm High-Explosive Grenade
"Donovan Briley, are you homesick already?" Nightwind chuckled, cocking the hammer on his colt and rolling down his window, something smelled like death.
"You damn right Travis, something smells like shit, and I'm getting bad vibes." Donovan said, nervously cocking the CAR-15's T-Bolt
Travis nodded solemny, he turned onto Ash, the RPD's street, which was where they'd check in with the S.T.A.R.S., as per their orders.
But it seems the locals didn't want them to get to the RPD, a gaggle of about 15 people stood in a group right dead center in the street, not a care in the world, just standing there.
"What's with the Gagglefuck?" Donovan said, unbuckling as the Vehicle slowed down.
Travis brought the Humvee to a stop and grabbed his own weapon, a CAR-15 with an underslung Ithaca "Masterkey" shotgun. He had his weapon outfitted with the latest equipment, Rapid-Acquisition REFLEX sight, laser aiming module, flashlight, and a 100-round C-MAG. He calmly stepped out of the Hummvee and approached the crowd, followed closely by the nervous Donovan.
"What seems to be the problem here people?" Travis's authorative voice cut through their soft mumbling, they all looked incredibly drunk.
Before he could react, the nearest person, a tall man in a nice-looking suit, turned and lunged for him.
"The hell?!" Travis said, kneeing the person in the stomach then rearing back for a kick that sent the crazed person sprawling.
"Travis!" Donovan's frightened voice came from behind him, Travis glanced over his shoulder and had to stop himself from reaching for his grenades. A crowd of about 30 people was stumbling towards them, as the fell under a streetlight, Travis stopped doubting the truth.
"They ain't sick man." He said, his Texan accent coming through.
"They're dead!" He finished, opening fire on the crowd in front of him, the clatter of automatic fire was suddenly muted by a massive BANG! As Donovan pulled the trigger on his M203.
"Hey Bull!" Travis yelled as he dropped another zombie.
"Yea?" Donovan said,
"You know how you're always talking about the environment teaching a soldier things?" Travis yelled, sweeping another zombie with a stream of bullets
"Yea?" Donovan asked, reloading, the zombies were gaining on him fast.
"I think it's trying to teach us to run right now." Travis said.
Donovan screamed, Travis whipped his near-empty rifle around to see 4 zombies lunge and tackle his friend to the ground.
"Bull!" Travis said, kicking one zombie so hard his skull caved in. More zombies joined the group that was feasting on his best friend.
"BULL!" Travis screamed, diving into the pile, but he was suddenly torn away and dragged into a nearby alley.
"Are you batshit mano? Those things could have eaten you alive!" A Latino said to him, he was wearing a UBCS outfit and had a rifle clutched tightly in his right hand.
"Let me go!' Travis said, wrenching his arm from the mans grip, but even he could see it was too late to save his friend, Donovan "Bull" Briley has stopped breathing long before the UBCS had pulled Travis away.
"What's your name?" The UBCS trooper asked.
"Travis Setrand" Travis responded, reloading his Rifle with a 30-round M16 magazine, he had only 1 C-MAG, he kept it in a pouch so he could reload it when he got a chance.
"Carlos Oliviera, Umbrella Biohazard Counte-"
"I know damn well what you are, I'm United States Delta Force." Travis said, cocking his rifle.
"Kickass!" Carlos said.
"Whatever, I need to get to the RPD, can you take me there?" Travis asked, laying the rifle across his shoulder.
"Si, follow me cabron." Carlos said, leading Travis back out onto the street.