Ummmmm last chappy I forgot to mention the Lord of the Flies joke. I just
started reading it and I like that book. So since Ralph comments on
Piggy's "ass-mar" I had to put it in. I thought it would give some more
things in common with Leon and Sam...Not that is important cause nothing is
happening between them. *Looks around guiltily*. Oh yeah this chapter we
learn of the last days of Samantha Spencer.
PS I JUST READ AN ARTICLE ON RE 4!!!!! It was so exciting all the pictures were awesome; Leon now looks like a sexy beast! The little pimp lol. Half pain
Chapter 9 Placebo
Sam had been exploring the forest with her newest buddy Toby, but one of the employees sadly cut that short. Furious with the young girl he irritably asked her name and how she got in possession of Toby. Sam of course lied, saying that she was walking around the woods and found the dog. He yelled at her and explaining that this was private property, and after taking the dog back into custody he walked off and said she better get the hell out of the woods if she knew what was good for her. After he had turned his back and left her, she laughed at his utter ignorance. There were ups to no one knowing your identity.
Sam figured she had only been out of the mansion for say a half hour. She decided to head back, never wanting her grandfather to be upset. He usually took a while in meetings, so she leisurely walked back to the estate.
Upon returning Sam walked up the steps to the room that she was meant to reside in. She prayed that the door was unlocked; it would be hell to find where its location was this time. To her fortune it was, grandfather had probably already arranged for it.
The bar hadn't changed at all since her last visit. Although it had collected a little more dust than last time. She looked to where the baby grand dwelled, still as lovely as ever. Her eyes then fell upon the liquor; grandfather never did care if she had it, as long as she did it sensibly. In fact he even encouraged it, probably so she wouldn't excess later in life. She took a glass and looked to find Irish Crème hiding in the pantry. A smirk came across her face as she poured in the sweet contents. Sam took a small sip savoring its flavor. With the cup in hand she let her wrist create circles, her eyes looking into the light brown liquid. Hopeful, she sat at the baby grand, awaiting her grandfather's arrival.
To Samantha's dismay 10 minutes had passed and still no sign of grandfather. The cup of Irish Crème was nearly empty. She sat it on the floor next to the bench and thought of what song to play. She felt like playing Brahms's Hungarian Dances No. 5, one of her favorites. Her petite left hand began to play the notes that repetitively played at the beginning. She soon realized that she hadn't practiced for quite sometime and her hand was not accustomed to the song any more. Her short little fingers could not begin the song correctly, let alone play along with the right hand. In frustration, Sam smacked her head and hands on the keys causing a loud discord to be heard in the hall.
"Sir?" A man called out from the doorway; as if he was looking for someone. Samantha hadn't even noticed the door open in the first place. A pure look over horror overcame her face, someone found her! She was always supposed to be quiet, stupid stupid mistake!
"What are you doing here?" She tried to express calmly. The man sensed her hostility and peacefully replied. "Excuse me M'am, do you know Lord Spencer is? Dr. Birkin told me I could find him here. I did not mean to intrude."
"He's not here, he was going to a meeting." She stated, a cold touch in her voice. The young man looked at her for a moment, and noticed the glass of Irish Crème at her feet.
"Are you drinking alcohol?" A puzzling look washed on his face.
"What does it matter to you?" She kept telling herself to be cool, no one cares they'll soon leave. Everyone leaves.
The man walked in closer to her, and her heart began to beat faster. She wanted her grandfather. She didn't trust this man. He looked at her for a moment and crouched down so they were eye level. "You're Spencer's granddaughter aren't you?" How did he know? How did he know! "Am I correct?" She nodded, her face fearful. "Yes. Now, please just go I don't want any trouble."
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to alarm you, I'm just wondering why you're all alone. Shouldn't someone be looking out for you?"
"Grandfather believes that I'm fine by myself at the Spencer Estate. He tells me to stay out of the way of people and not talk to employees, so please just leave."
"So you are his granddaughter, you have his eyes you know." She nodded. Why wouldn't he just leave her alone? "My name is John Fae, what's yours?" He gave her his name; he was actually being nice. No one told him to be kind; he could have just left. The young man known as John picked up the glass at her feet and put it on the bar table.
"Samantha" She let out meekly.
"Samantha? That's a nice name." He gave her a smile. "So, Samantha, you're all alone here?" Sam nodded. John took the cup of Irish Crème and dumped the rest of it in the sink. "Well are you okay, do you need anything?" She shook her head "No" and John nodded. "Alright then, well I guess I best be going. Tell your grandfather Dr. Birkin was looking for him." He then turned towards the door, before he left he smiled at her. "Nice meeting you Samantha; take care." He closed the door behind him.
"Nice to meet you too John."
Sam's grandfather eventually showed up. He apologized for being late. She didn't mind. He told her that Birkin was looking for him. He brushed it aside and told her he was late because of this. From behind his back he pulled out a box, wrapped of course in a beautiful green.
"Go on, open it up." He said with enthusiasm, clasping his hands together. Sam slowly opened up the box; within it held a small wooden rectangular chest. It had intricate designs with small ruby and diamonds making the design stand out in places. The colors of Umbrella. She smiled "Thank you grandfather."
"That not all dear, it's a music box. Please open it." Her smile grew as she thought of what song he got her. She opened it to find a silver music disc with the small bumps to create the music as they passed the small iron bars. Chopin's romantic guitar floated into the room. Grandfather always did say that was her song. "Thank you Grandfather." She placed the present on the piano and embraced him. "What's the occasion?"
"Oh nothing, a friend suggested it a long time ago. I thought you deserved it."
Someone how Samantha and John created a friendship. Maybe because John felt sorry that she didn't have any friends. She considered him a big brother, someone who looked out for her. She never told grandfather about the friendship, she would get in trouble for that. John would stop by sometimes when he was on a break and her grandfather was away at a meeting. He would always bring her Irish Crème Coffee. He would rather have her addicted to coffee than alcohol.
John also comforted her and telling her that public school was a pain in the ass, and that her grandfather didn't want her hurt. He helped her when she would cry from raging hormones. She complained about not having any friends. He gave her a little black ring that a buddy gave to him. He said, "That way you know that you have a friend." From that day on she always wore it around her neck, and she never felt as bad.
On occasions when she actually saw John, she would ask him about his work for grandfather. Research. That was all. Nothing exciting to mention and he always avoided the question. Just like grandfather.
It was the beginning of December 1993, when Samantha learned the about Umbrella. She had coffee in courtyard with John again. He told her of funny things that had happened in the lab. John looked at the time and said he was sorry that he had to go again. Sam nodded, understanding. She waved him goodbye. By some chance of fate a small black disk fell from John's pocket. She picked it up and considered to give it back to him. But curiosity got the best of her. On the white sticker read the title "Woman report – John 534".
Soon after her grandfather showed up and explained that they should head to the cottage soon. They didn't stay in the estate. Grandfather's paranoia got the best of him.
The cottage was small...for a Spencer at least. It had two floors. Ozwell usually stayed there when visiting Arkley. It was a few miles away from the estate, perfectly hidden in the forest.
It was late a night, and Lord Spencer had retired to bed. Samantha looked up at her ceiling in her room. It was lavender and the gray sky lightened the room. Shadows of fluttering snow danced upon the wall. She looked towards the dresser, knowing where the disk lied. Slowly she arose from here bed and crept over to the dresser.
She was able to make it to the office; her grandfather didn't hear her in the hall. Clicking on the computer she immediately switched it on mute. The white wallpaper blinded her in the completely dark room. The logo was in the corner along with the message Umbrella Corporation – international biological solutions. Sliding in the disc she went under documents altering it to the A: Drive.
It was maybe 3 in morning and slowly the truth began to unfold before her eyes. Her grandfather hadn't been making medical supplies to help people; he had been making medical supplies to destroy them. She saw the pictures, the ripped flesh of the "woman". The blood; the painful look. She read what they injected her with. How they murdered her mother. She learned of the t-virus, and nemesis. Sam continued to clutch the black ring on her neck. John made this report. Was he a...Murderer? Was everyone she had met in her life? Even...grandfather...?
She sat at the front of the computer consistently wiping away the tears. No, no, no, John wouldn't do this. Not the John she knew. None of the people she saw could do this. They were all doctors, they wanted to help people, they had families. They couldn't they just couldn't...
This was all fake, all lies it didn't add up. Nothing made sense anymore. She would have to talk to John. She wouldn't ask grandfather, WHEN this all turned out to be fake John would be in trouble. She wiped away the last of her tears and kept telling herself it didn't exist. Everything would turn out fine tomorrow, but that didn't explain why she couldn't sleep that night.
Her grandfather asked her what she wanted for Christmas this year. She was very quiet today. She lied she didn't know what she wanted. All she really wanted was the truth. She continued to hold the ring, a security.
She was wide-awake, probably from the lack of sleep; and the adrenaline that pumped through her body. After her grandfather left to go see what Birkin was up to; Sam searched for John. She checked any opened doors, actually trying to slam open the gate under the stairwell. One last place she could search, the courtyard. And that is where she found him.
"John!" She rushed over to him, her breath easily seen from the cold.
"Sam-"
"John we really really need to talk"
"Samantha I'm sorry I got to file in this report for Birkin, if I don't he'll have my head. Listen we can talk at my lunch break k? You should get inside."
"The woman report?" she said slowly, pulling out the disc from her jean pocket.
"How did you get that?" John said, his voice full of tension. "Samantha you didn't read it did you?!" He said with more anger than she had ever heard.
"Is...Is it true?" Tears began to swell up in her eyes. He wasn't answering, it couldn't be true. Please God don't let it be true.
"Sam" He spoke slowly. "You have to understand, I had a lot of moral difficulties with my work. Once you're in this business you can't leave. Some people don't care, but I did. Samantha you in danger now that you know."
Samantha started to shake her head, not taking it in. "No, no, John you're lying you couldn't have done those things. Please tell me you didn't do those things."
"Samantha I won't lie to you, but I can't explain everything. Everything in that report you read is true." Samantha started to walk backwards away from him. He grabbed her arm. "Don't touch me!" She yelled as tears poured down her face.
"Samantha keep your voice down or you could be hurt!" The anger in his voice arose again. He looked at her straight in the eyes. "Now that you know you could be in serious danger. We both are. If any other people find out you know this information they will not think twice to have us killed."
"Not...not my grandfather. He wouldn't..."
"Samantha they'll have me killed too if they find out I was the reason for you finding this information. Get out of this while you can. Find a way to escape take all the money you have and get out of Umbrella."
She threw the disk at his feet. And ran away into the mansion. John turned away, looking towards the snow-covered forest; not knowing what his fate held. He could no longer help Samantha. He only hoped that she was brave enough to escape.
Sam returned to her sanctuary looking at the piano. Her music box rested on the countertop of the bar. She tried wiping away the tears. But they wouldn't cease. She grabbed some paper and I pen from the selves in the back. Beethoven's bust looked down at her accusingly. She wrote a simple note to her grandfather. All it said was if he loved her, he would not search for her. Prove that that he did have some morality left in his life. She left it in the music box.
It was all so blurry; she didn't know how she made it out. She followed John's advice and took all the money she could scrounge. Sell the fine jewelry she had later. She continued to clutch onto the black ring for some reason, deep down she still considered him her friend.
Jerking a coat, hat, and gloves on she rushed out into the winter night. Snow began to fall relentlessly. It was mid-afternoon, and Samantha bid farewell to all that she knew for so long.
She made it to the outskirts of Raccoon City. Feeling stupid for running away, but what else could she do? That place was a mad house, the crimson pictures floated back into her memory. Day was slipping away into night and maybe she could find a place to stay find somewhere to hide. Eventually she ended up in an abandoned alleyway; away from the bustle of people hanging around the bars. She continued to cry, not knowing what to do with her life. A strange figure appeared from the dark and she tried to hush herself down. A small gasp of fear escaped from her lips.
The stranger walked in closer to her. A tall man, most likely middle-aged. "Who...who are you?" Sam questioned quietly as she backed herself into the wall. "Samantha Spencer, my name is Trent. And I think you'll be needing some help."
So thus ends the life of Samantha Spencer and Samantha Stag was born. I hope you enjoyed the chapter and I really tried to follow the timeline as much as possible. I don't know when John began to work for Umbrella but I think it worked out well. Well please review you know I love it and I'll try to post the next chappy as soon as possible. AMP
PS I JUST READ AN ARTICLE ON RE 4!!!!! It was so exciting all the pictures were awesome; Leon now looks like a sexy beast! The little pimp lol. Half pain
Chapter 9 Placebo
Sam had been exploring the forest with her newest buddy Toby, but one of the employees sadly cut that short. Furious with the young girl he irritably asked her name and how she got in possession of Toby. Sam of course lied, saying that she was walking around the woods and found the dog. He yelled at her and explaining that this was private property, and after taking the dog back into custody he walked off and said she better get the hell out of the woods if she knew what was good for her. After he had turned his back and left her, she laughed at his utter ignorance. There were ups to no one knowing your identity.
Sam figured she had only been out of the mansion for say a half hour. She decided to head back, never wanting her grandfather to be upset. He usually took a while in meetings, so she leisurely walked back to the estate.
Upon returning Sam walked up the steps to the room that she was meant to reside in. She prayed that the door was unlocked; it would be hell to find where its location was this time. To her fortune it was, grandfather had probably already arranged for it.
The bar hadn't changed at all since her last visit. Although it had collected a little more dust than last time. She looked to where the baby grand dwelled, still as lovely as ever. Her eyes then fell upon the liquor; grandfather never did care if she had it, as long as she did it sensibly. In fact he even encouraged it, probably so she wouldn't excess later in life. She took a glass and looked to find Irish Crème hiding in the pantry. A smirk came across her face as she poured in the sweet contents. Sam took a small sip savoring its flavor. With the cup in hand she let her wrist create circles, her eyes looking into the light brown liquid. Hopeful, she sat at the baby grand, awaiting her grandfather's arrival.
To Samantha's dismay 10 minutes had passed and still no sign of grandfather. The cup of Irish Crème was nearly empty. She sat it on the floor next to the bench and thought of what song to play. She felt like playing Brahms's Hungarian Dances No. 5, one of her favorites. Her petite left hand began to play the notes that repetitively played at the beginning. She soon realized that she hadn't practiced for quite sometime and her hand was not accustomed to the song any more. Her short little fingers could not begin the song correctly, let alone play along with the right hand. In frustration, Sam smacked her head and hands on the keys causing a loud discord to be heard in the hall.
"Sir?" A man called out from the doorway; as if he was looking for someone. Samantha hadn't even noticed the door open in the first place. A pure look over horror overcame her face, someone found her! She was always supposed to be quiet, stupid stupid mistake!
"What are you doing here?" She tried to express calmly. The man sensed her hostility and peacefully replied. "Excuse me M'am, do you know Lord Spencer is? Dr. Birkin told me I could find him here. I did not mean to intrude."
"He's not here, he was going to a meeting." She stated, a cold touch in her voice. The young man looked at her for a moment, and noticed the glass of Irish Crème at her feet.
"Are you drinking alcohol?" A puzzling look washed on his face.
"What does it matter to you?" She kept telling herself to be cool, no one cares they'll soon leave. Everyone leaves.
The man walked in closer to her, and her heart began to beat faster. She wanted her grandfather. She didn't trust this man. He looked at her for a moment and crouched down so they were eye level. "You're Spencer's granddaughter aren't you?" How did he know? How did he know! "Am I correct?" She nodded, her face fearful. "Yes. Now, please just go I don't want any trouble."
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to alarm you, I'm just wondering why you're all alone. Shouldn't someone be looking out for you?"
"Grandfather believes that I'm fine by myself at the Spencer Estate. He tells me to stay out of the way of people and not talk to employees, so please just leave."
"So you are his granddaughter, you have his eyes you know." She nodded. Why wouldn't he just leave her alone? "My name is John Fae, what's yours?" He gave her his name; he was actually being nice. No one told him to be kind; he could have just left. The young man known as John picked up the glass at her feet and put it on the bar table.
"Samantha" She let out meekly.
"Samantha? That's a nice name." He gave her a smile. "So, Samantha, you're all alone here?" Sam nodded. John took the cup of Irish Crème and dumped the rest of it in the sink. "Well are you okay, do you need anything?" She shook her head "No" and John nodded. "Alright then, well I guess I best be going. Tell your grandfather Dr. Birkin was looking for him." He then turned towards the door, before he left he smiled at her. "Nice meeting you Samantha; take care." He closed the door behind him.
"Nice to meet you too John."
Sam's grandfather eventually showed up. He apologized for being late. She didn't mind. He told her that Birkin was looking for him. He brushed it aside and told her he was late because of this. From behind his back he pulled out a box, wrapped of course in a beautiful green.
"Go on, open it up." He said with enthusiasm, clasping his hands together. Sam slowly opened up the box; within it held a small wooden rectangular chest. It had intricate designs with small ruby and diamonds making the design stand out in places. The colors of Umbrella. She smiled "Thank you grandfather."
"That not all dear, it's a music box. Please open it." Her smile grew as she thought of what song he got her. She opened it to find a silver music disc with the small bumps to create the music as they passed the small iron bars. Chopin's romantic guitar floated into the room. Grandfather always did say that was her song. "Thank you Grandfather." She placed the present on the piano and embraced him. "What's the occasion?"
"Oh nothing, a friend suggested it a long time ago. I thought you deserved it."
Someone how Samantha and John created a friendship. Maybe because John felt sorry that she didn't have any friends. She considered him a big brother, someone who looked out for her. She never told grandfather about the friendship, she would get in trouble for that. John would stop by sometimes when he was on a break and her grandfather was away at a meeting. He would always bring her Irish Crème Coffee. He would rather have her addicted to coffee than alcohol.
John also comforted her and telling her that public school was a pain in the ass, and that her grandfather didn't want her hurt. He helped her when she would cry from raging hormones. She complained about not having any friends. He gave her a little black ring that a buddy gave to him. He said, "That way you know that you have a friend." From that day on she always wore it around her neck, and she never felt as bad.
On occasions when she actually saw John, she would ask him about his work for grandfather. Research. That was all. Nothing exciting to mention and he always avoided the question. Just like grandfather.
It was the beginning of December 1993, when Samantha learned the about Umbrella. She had coffee in courtyard with John again. He told her of funny things that had happened in the lab. John looked at the time and said he was sorry that he had to go again. Sam nodded, understanding. She waved him goodbye. By some chance of fate a small black disk fell from John's pocket. She picked it up and considered to give it back to him. But curiosity got the best of her. On the white sticker read the title "Woman report – John 534".
Soon after her grandfather showed up and explained that they should head to the cottage soon. They didn't stay in the estate. Grandfather's paranoia got the best of him.
The cottage was small...for a Spencer at least. It had two floors. Ozwell usually stayed there when visiting Arkley. It was a few miles away from the estate, perfectly hidden in the forest.
It was late a night, and Lord Spencer had retired to bed. Samantha looked up at her ceiling in her room. It was lavender and the gray sky lightened the room. Shadows of fluttering snow danced upon the wall. She looked towards the dresser, knowing where the disk lied. Slowly she arose from here bed and crept over to the dresser.
She was able to make it to the office; her grandfather didn't hear her in the hall. Clicking on the computer she immediately switched it on mute. The white wallpaper blinded her in the completely dark room. The logo was in the corner along with the message Umbrella Corporation – international biological solutions. Sliding in the disc she went under documents altering it to the A: Drive.
It was maybe 3 in morning and slowly the truth began to unfold before her eyes. Her grandfather hadn't been making medical supplies to help people; he had been making medical supplies to destroy them. She saw the pictures, the ripped flesh of the "woman". The blood; the painful look. She read what they injected her with. How they murdered her mother. She learned of the t-virus, and nemesis. Sam continued to clutch the black ring on her neck. John made this report. Was he a...Murderer? Was everyone she had met in her life? Even...grandfather...?
She sat at the front of the computer consistently wiping away the tears. No, no, no, John wouldn't do this. Not the John she knew. None of the people she saw could do this. They were all doctors, they wanted to help people, they had families. They couldn't they just couldn't...
This was all fake, all lies it didn't add up. Nothing made sense anymore. She would have to talk to John. She wouldn't ask grandfather, WHEN this all turned out to be fake John would be in trouble. She wiped away the last of her tears and kept telling herself it didn't exist. Everything would turn out fine tomorrow, but that didn't explain why she couldn't sleep that night.
Her grandfather asked her what she wanted for Christmas this year. She was very quiet today. She lied she didn't know what she wanted. All she really wanted was the truth. She continued to hold the ring, a security.
She was wide-awake, probably from the lack of sleep; and the adrenaline that pumped through her body. After her grandfather left to go see what Birkin was up to; Sam searched for John. She checked any opened doors, actually trying to slam open the gate under the stairwell. One last place she could search, the courtyard. And that is where she found him.
"John!" She rushed over to him, her breath easily seen from the cold.
"Sam-"
"John we really really need to talk"
"Samantha I'm sorry I got to file in this report for Birkin, if I don't he'll have my head. Listen we can talk at my lunch break k? You should get inside."
"The woman report?" she said slowly, pulling out the disc from her jean pocket.
"How did you get that?" John said, his voice full of tension. "Samantha you didn't read it did you?!" He said with more anger than she had ever heard.
"Is...Is it true?" Tears began to swell up in her eyes. He wasn't answering, it couldn't be true. Please God don't let it be true.
"Sam" He spoke slowly. "You have to understand, I had a lot of moral difficulties with my work. Once you're in this business you can't leave. Some people don't care, but I did. Samantha you in danger now that you know."
Samantha started to shake her head, not taking it in. "No, no, John you're lying you couldn't have done those things. Please tell me you didn't do those things."
"Samantha I won't lie to you, but I can't explain everything. Everything in that report you read is true." Samantha started to walk backwards away from him. He grabbed her arm. "Don't touch me!" She yelled as tears poured down her face.
"Samantha keep your voice down or you could be hurt!" The anger in his voice arose again. He looked at her straight in the eyes. "Now that you know you could be in serious danger. We both are. If any other people find out you know this information they will not think twice to have us killed."
"Not...not my grandfather. He wouldn't..."
"Samantha they'll have me killed too if they find out I was the reason for you finding this information. Get out of this while you can. Find a way to escape take all the money you have and get out of Umbrella."
She threw the disk at his feet. And ran away into the mansion. John turned away, looking towards the snow-covered forest; not knowing what his fate held. He could no longer help Samantha. He only hoped that she was brave enough to escape.
Sam returned to her sanctuary looking at the piano. Her music box rested on the countertop of the bar. She tried wiping away the tears. But they wouldn't cease. She grabbed some paper and I pen from the selves in the back. Beethoven's bust looked down at her accusingly. She wrote a simple note to her grandfather. All it said was if he loved her, he would not search for her. Prove that that he did have some morality left in his life. She left it in the music box.
It was all so blurry; she didn't know how she made it out. She followed John's advice and took all the money she could scrounge. Sell the fine jewelry she had later. She continued to clutch onto the black ring for some reason, deep down she still considered him her friend.
Jerking a coat, hat, and gloves on she rushed out into the winter night. Snow began to fall relentlessly. It was mid-afternoon, and Samantha bid farewell to all that she knew for so long.
She made it to the outskirts of Raccoon City. Feeling stupid for running away, but what else could she do? That place was a mad house, the crimson pictures floated back into her memory. Day was slipping away into night and maybe she could find a place to stay find somewhere to hide. Eventually she ended up in an abandoned alleyway; away from the bustle of people hanging around the bars. She continued to cry, not knowing what to do with her life. A strange figure appeared from the dark and she tried to hush herself down. A small gasp of fear escaped from her lips.
The stranger walked in closer to her. A tall man, most likely middle-aged. "Who...who are you?" Sam questioned quietly as she backed herself into the wall. "Samantha Spencer, my name is Trent. And I think you'll be needing some help."
So thus ends the life of Samantha Spencer and Samantha Stag was born. I hope you enjoyed the chapter and I really tried to follow the timeline as much as possible. I don't know when John began to work for Umbrella but I think it worked out well. Well please review you know I love it and I'll try to post the next chappy as soon as possible. AMP
