Resident Evil 4: Umbrella's Requiem
Fan-Fiction -- My Version of Resident Evil 4
Text Copyright: © 04/05/2004 DestructoYue
Updated: © 04/11/2004, © 04/13/2004, © 04/14/2004, © 04/17/2004, © 04/24/2004
DISCLAIMER: The original characters and original scenarios contained within this text are copyright 4/5/2004 - 4/24/2004 by me, DestructoYue. The previously created characters (Leon S. Kennedy, etc.) and previously created scenarios and objects are copyrighted and trademarked by Capcom. This story is an original fan-fiction based on what I think could/should happen in Resident Evil 4. It is in no way meant to offend the reader or Capcom.
Chapter 12: Kiss of Death
The second door led to a small bathroom. He inspected quickly, wanting to find Sherry and the missing patient. "If he is still alive, maybe he knows what's going on here. I hope she's alright." Breaking away from his thoughts, the third door was waiting. A medical supplies closet, filled with bandages, First-Aid Spray, and medicine he had never heard of before. He took one First-Aid Spray, noticing it was strange like some other the others. "I wonder if it has some extra effects," he said, moving on to the fourth door. Locked tightly, he checked for a label or a marking. A few feet above the doorknob, he noticed the word "Morgue" in large letters. Shuddering for a second, he decided it was best to come back there later. "If either of them are in there, it's too late already... I'd rather hope for the best and find them ALIVE!" The fifth door was unlocked, and he almost felt more uncomfortable searching there. A room lay beyond, filled with five tables. Checking the door before he went in, he realized it was the Autopsy Room. Bloody tools lay in pans on rolling carts next to each table, and blood stained the sheet covering one of the tables. Two tables were occupied, but there was no blood on the sheets. The other two weren't occupied at the moment. He walked up slowly to the first occupied table, knowing he had to check under the white sheet. "I hate to do this, but I must know what's going on here." Barely able to keep his eyes open, he lifted the sheet far enough to see the face: the first villager he encountered, his head still intact, and the bullet wound remained. "I'll make sure whoever is responsible pays for what they did to you, sir... I hope what I did will let you and your family rest in peace," he said, knowing the man couldn't hear him, sad and angry at the same time. The second table was waiting, covering a body with a bloody sheet. He lifted it, recognizing the person there immediately: the villager who attacked him with a chainsaw. The head was missing, but he knew immediately from it's build that those arms held a chainsaw hours before. Finally making his way to the last occupied table, he noticed the sheet was only partially covering the upper half of the body. "Has someone been here before me...?" He could tell who it was from the clothing: a blood-stained white coat covering normal clothes, and a "Dr." name tag. The body was still intact, no wounds or cause of death, at least not one that was visible. Charts lay at the end of each table. Two he knew the cause of, but the doctor's death was a complete mystery. A hastily scribbled note covered the page: "I can't take it anymore, and I've given up. Forcing patients to do their bidding, I knew it was only a matter of time before they tried forcing me as well. No more, I'm done! DONE!! I deserve my punishment... I just hope the others can forgive me, if they ever return to normal. If you're reading this, and you find my bosses, give them a message for me. 'I hope you rot in Hell, scumbags!!!' I've written my last prescription, injecting myself with it: enough tranquilizers to kill an elephant. Goodbye to you al---" The rest wasn't legible, but he knew it was a suicide note. Covering the body again, he decided to search the rest of the room. A door leading somewhere at the back of the room, he wasn't sure whether to open it or go to the next room. After a moment's hesitation, he opened the door. Nothing strange inside, it was a storage closet. A few brooms and mops in case they made a mess, nothing else. Shutting the door, he could see movement out of the corner of his eye. When he turned around, a fourth table had a body underneath a white sheet. Equipping his handgun, he turned off the safety. Slowly, he advanced towards the table, waiting for movement. Nothing happened. Pointing at the body with the gun in his right hand, he lifted the sheet with the left, his heart beating fast. A villager lay there, dead from an apparent slash across their throat. Letting go of the sheet, it fell onto their face, and he put the gun away. "I don't know how it got there, but at least it's dead..." Walking back to the other side of the room, he wanted to examine some cabinets. Inside were a few more tools, sterile and still in their original packaging. Hearing movement behind him, he quickly turned around, expecting to see a zombie behind him, but nothing. "It would help if I quit being so paranoid...," he muttered, angry at himself for thinking about zombies again. About to turn back around, he noticed the fourth table was empty again, the sheet on the floor. "What...? Where did it go?," he said aloud, ready to equip his gun. He walked back over to the table, realizing the cabinets must not have anything useful. "Hmm... I didn't hear a door opening, so it has to be in here still!!," he whispered, drawing his gun. A chart hung from the end of the table. "This wasn't here before either!," Leon said, picking it up and beginning to read. A farming accident the day before he arrived caused a sickle to fly through the air, slicing his throat. "That's horrible... At least he wasn't one of those -things- like the other villagers." Setting the chart back down, he heard another sound, movement from behind him. Quickly drawing his gun, he turned around, aiming. No one there. "This is really getting out of han--- AHHHH!," he yelled as teeth sunk into his left shoulder, barely breaking the skin, but enough to draw blood. Breaking free from the bite, he quickly stepped forward and turned around, aiming where he stood a moment before.
Is it a zombie or a crazed villager that has come back to life?
Fan-Fiction -- My Version of Resident Evil 4
Text Copyright: © 04/05/2004 DestructoYue
Updated: © 04/11/2004, © 04/13/2004, © 04/14/2004, © 04/17/2004, © 04/24/2004
DISCLAIMER: The original characters and original scenarios contained within this text are copyright 4/5/2004 - 4/24/2004 by me, DestructoYue. The previously created characters (Leon S. Kennedy, etc.) and previously created scenarios and objects are copyrighted and trademarked by Capcom. This story is an original fan-fiction based on what I think could/should happen in Resident Evil 4. It is in no way meant to offend the reader or Capcom.
Chapter 12: Kiss of Death
The second door led to a small bathroom. He inspected quickly, wanting to find Sherry and the missing patient. "If he is still alive, maybe he knows what's going on here. I hope she's alright." Breaking away from his thoughts, the third door was waiting. A medical supplies closet, filled with bandages, First-Aid Spray, and medicine he had never heard of before. He took one First-Aid Spray, noticing it was strange like some other the others. "I wonder if it has some extra effects," he said, moving on to the fourth door. Locked tightly, he checked for a label or a marking. A few feet above the doorknob, he noticed the word "Morgue" in large letters. Shuddering for a second, he decided it was best to come back there later. "If either of them are in there, it's too late already... I'd rather hope for the best and find them ALIVE!" The fifth door was unlocked, and he almost felt more uncomfortable searching there. A room lay beyond, filled with five tables. Checking the door before he went in, he realized it was the Autopsy Room. Bloody tools lay in pans on rolling carts next to each table, and blood stained the sheet covering one of the tables. Two tables were occupied, but there was no blood on the sheets. The other two weren't occupied at the moment. He walked up slowly to the first occupied table, knowing he had to check under the white sheet. "I hate to do this, but I must know what's going on here." Barely able to keep his eyes open, he lifted the sheet far enough to see the face: the first villager he encountered, his head still intact, and the bullet wound remained. "I'll make sure whoever is responsible pays for what they did to you, sir... I hope what I did will let you and your family rest in peace," he said, knowing the man couldn't hear him, sad and angry at the same time. The second table was waiting, covering a body with a bloody sheet. He lifted it, recognizing the person there immediately: the villager who attacked him with a chainsaw. The head was missing, but he knew immediately from it's build that those arms held a chainsaw hours before. Finally making his way to the last occupied table, he noticed the sheet was only partially covering the upper half of the body. "Has someone been here before me...?" He could tell who it was from the clothing: a blood-stained white coat covering normal clothes, and a "Dr." name tag. The body was still intact, no wounds or cause of death, at least not one that was visible. Charts lay at the end of each table. Two he knew the cause of, but the doctor's death was a complete mystery. A hastily scribbled note covered the page: "I can't take it anymore, and I've given up. Forcing patients to do their bidding, I knew it was only a matter of time before they tried forcing me as well. No more, I'm done! DONE!! I deserve my punishment... I just hope the others can forgive me, if they ever return to normal. If you're reading this, and you find my bosses, give them a message for me. 'I hope you rot in Hell, scumbags!!!' I've written my last prescription, injecting myself with it: enough tranquilizers to kill an elephant. Goodbye to you al---" The rest wasn't legible, but he knew it was a suicide note. Covering the body again, he decided to search the rest of the room. A door leading somewhere at the back of the room, he wasn't sure whether to open it or go to the next room. After a moment's hesitation, he opened the door. Nothing strange inside, it was a storage closet. A few brooms and mops in case they made a mess, nothing else. Shutting the door, he could see movement out of the corner of his eye. When he turned around, a fourth table had a body underneath a white sheet. Equipping his handgun, he turned off the safety. Slowly, he advanced towards the table, waiting for movement. Nothing happened. Pointing at the body with the gun in his right hand, he lifted the sheet with the left, his heart beating fast. A villager lay there, dead from an apparent slash across their throat. Letting go of the sheet, it fell onto their face, and he put the gun away. "I don't know how it got there, but at least it's dead..." Walking back to the other side of the room, he wanted to examine some cabinets. Inside were a few more tools, sterile and still in their original packaging. Hearing movement behind him, he quickly turned around, expecting to see a zombie behind him, but nothing. "It would help if I quit being so paranoid...," he muttered, angry at himself for thinking about zombies again. About to turn back around, he noticed the fourth table was empty again, the sheet on the floor. "What...? Where did it go?," he said aloud, ready to equip his gun. He walked back over to the table, realizing the cabinets must not have anything useful. "Hmm... I didn't hear a door opening, so it has to be in here still!!," he whispered, drawing his gun. A chart hung from the end of the table. "This wasn't here before either!," Leon said, picking it up and beginning to read. A farming accident the day before he arrived caused a sickle to fly through the air, slicing his throat. "That's horrible... At least he wasn't one of those -things- like the other villagers." Setting the chart back down, he heard another sound, movement from behind him. Quickly drawing his gun, he turned around, aiming. No one there. "This is really getting out of han--- AHHHH!," he yelled as teeth sunk into his left shoulder, barely breaking the skin, but enough to draw blood. Breaking free from the bite, he quickly stepped forward and turned around, aiming where he stood a moment before.
Is it a zombie or a crazed villager that has come back to life?