Disclaimer: I don't own any of the Resident Evil games, or any of the movies. This fic is not written for matters of profit, but enjoyment. Don't sue. I don't have any money.

Summary: There's yet another outbreak of the T-Virus in the backwater town of Templeton California. As people struggle to survive against the undead a mystery rises up about the nearby new Military Academy of Hell Field, and the students who have attended.

WARNING: This is a graphic horror fic, with people being eaten, torn apart, and various other means of death. Read at one's own risk.

Chapter 1: Some Summer Vacation.

Vincent Skanes jolted awake as the bus pulled to a stop. He glanced around, identifying the location, and stood, realizing that it was his stop. He grabbed his old duffle bag, a green canvas army affair, and swung it over his right shoulder before walking to the front of the bus. After the three people ahead of him, a woman with a baby, and an old man who should be in a nursery home, got off, he climbed down himself, and walked over to the nearby parking lot, looking for his ride. He didn't really expect one, but it never hurt to look, and he wasn't looking forward to a five mile walk, even if he could do it at a full run.
Just when he was about to give up and start walking, a car pulled into the lot, and slowed down, the driver questing about. In the failing light of dusk he couldn't tell who it was behind the wheel, but they could apparently tell who he was. The car pulled up in front of him, and the person driving reached over and opened the door. Vincent leaned down and looked in, smiling slightly at the sight of his older sister Emily, her dark brown hair nearly reaching her waist, and her blue eyes shining at him. He climbed into the car, leaned over and kissed her lightly on the cheek.
Emily frowned as she glanced up and down, taking in his clothes. He was wearing a weather beaten black jacket that reached several inches past his waist, and a pair of snow camouflage kaki's with cargo pockets on each leg, tucked into a pair of ankle high hiking boots. His dirty blond hair had grown longer, and was unruly, sticking up in every direction, and his green eyes had bags underneath them. Her frown deepened when she saw his earrings, two silver studs a centimeter apart in his left earlobe. He turned his head to display a matching pair of studs in his right ear. Emily frowned even more.
"Dad's not going to like that."
"Fuck the old man."
She put the car in gear and pulled out of the parking lot, driving toward their home.
"Still mad at him huh?"
He rested his elbow on the armrest, and supported his head with his cupped hand.
"You really want an answer to that?"
She turned right, and drove down a rode until she came to a stop sign.
"No."
Vincent nodded, and they fell into a comfortable silence as Emily drove. Vincent's animosity toward his father went back several years, but had come to a head nine months ago, when the Military Academy of Hell Field was opened. Vincent's father, an old war hero, immediately signed Vincent up without asking, and only telling Vincent that he was leaving three days before the actual event. Vincent had been...less than pleased. After shouting at his old man for nearly an hour, Vincent had turned to his mother in desperation. She, as usual, was drunk off her ass, and had agreed with Vincent's father. Vincent had been all but hog tied when he had been dropped off at the pick up point for the academy. His father had stayed around, keeping Vincent in sight until the academy boys showed up. They herded everyone onto the bus, and taken Vincent away for nine months of hell. Hence the name Hell Field.
Now the year at the academy was finally over, and Vincent and the other students were allowed to leave. Vincent had packed his stuff, and got onto a bus heading back to Templeton. In his mind, the whole year had been a waste. The only good it had done him was now he could pay back Jason Newmen for that black eye back in the sixth grade.
Vincent came out of his reverie as they turned onto the entrance into their neighborhood. He looked at his sister out of the corner of his eye.
"So, when'd you get your license? I doubt the old man would've let you."
Emily smiled.
"I got it about two months ago. Mom had a rare moment of sobriety."
Vincent nodded. When their mother was sober, their father shut up and cowered in the corner for some reason. Maybe it was mom's trophies from several martial arts tournaments around the country.
Too soon they arrived home. Vincent climbed out of the car, and grabbed his bag. Emily turned off the engine, and walked to the front door. She opened it and held it open for Vincent, who took a deep breath and walked in.

-------------------------------------- -----

Dr. Montrel Duchovsky drove his car like a perfect law abiding citizen who had never gotten a ticket, not even for speeding. He did exactly 35, the speed limit, and not a mile more. If he did that might draw attention to what he was doing. And he couldn't have that.
He turned right, into the driveway of the water treatment plant, and pulled up to the gate where an aged security guard stepped out of his booth. The man walked up to Montrel's car and motioned to roll down the window. Montrel did so, and the man leaned over, resting his hand on the car door.
"Sorry sir, but this is a restricted area, and you'll have to turn around."
In response, Montrel merely brought up the silenced .45 he had in his coat, and put a bullet right between the guard's eyes. As the guard was thrown back, his brain and other head fluids decorating the outside of his security booth, Montrel calmly exited his car, entered the booth, and hit the button to open the gate. As the gate opened, Montrel got back into his vehicle, and drove into the parking lot of the water treatment plant. He chose an empty spot near the main doors, and got out, popping his trunk. He walked back to the trunk, opened it, and pulled out a simple black briefcase and walked into the plant.
The lady behind the counter looked up at him, then blinked at the silencer placed in her face. That blink was the last thing she did before her brains splattered the floor behind her. Montrel turned to his left, where a door lead into the emergency access to the pipes. He shot the lock, and opened the door, closing it behind him, and flipping on the lights. He walked calmly to the emergency induction station, where, as a last resort, the plant officials could place treatment chemicals into the water for rapid distribution if something was wrong. Montrel had a different objective in mind.
He placed the briefcase on the counter, and opened it. The inside was revealed to be mostly padding for a single vial of viscous blue liquid, about a foot long and an inch in diameter. Montrel put his silenced weapon on the counter beside the briefcase before lifting the vial out with his left hand. He walked over to the place where liquids were inducted into the water, several spherical vats connected to the floor by pipes. He opened the top of one, a funnel with a lid, and unscrewed the top of the vial. He didn't hesitate when the top came off, merely holding it in his right hand while he poured the liquid into the vat with his left. He then quickly screwed the top back onto the vial, which had no residue of the liquid, and then closed the top of the vat. He reached over and pressed a red button on the side of the vat, and there was a sudden shudder in the floor as the blue liquid was suddenly inducted into the water supply for Templeton. In minutes it would have spread out to the whole of Templeton, multiplying itself in the water at an astonishing rate.
Within 48 hours, the liquid would totally decompose, becoming extra nutrients. In that time, everyone in the town would have taken at least a sip of water.
Montrel placed the vial in the briefcase and closed it, but left it on the counter with the silenced gun as he walked back to his car. Once inside, he pulled out a small book, easily fitting into the pocket of his coat, and wrote in it for a moment. Once he was done, he tucked the book back into his coat pocket, turned on his car, and drove away into the night.

-------------------------------------- -----

Vincent sat at his computer, logged onto the net, checking to see if his e-mail account still existed. He had removed his jacket, which was now slung over the back of his chair. His computer finally loaded the hotmail site when Emily appeared at the door, a cup of water in each hand. She took one look at him, his shirt revealed to be a black tank top which showed off his rather...sturdy arms, as well as showing the details of a muscular chest and well built abs. Emily grinned mischievously.
"Hmm...looks like you've been working out. It's quite an improvement, I must say."
Vincent glanced at her, and did a double take at her grin which had turned from mischievous to playfully seductive. He returned a grin of his own before going back to the computer.
"Thanks, but I'm not in an incest mood."
Emily smiled as she walked into the room.
"Ooh, someone's grown up. If I had done that a year ago, you would've stuttered for a whole minute, your face burning. What happened, did you get a girl?"
Vincent's grin faded as he replied.
"No. Wish I did though. Some of them were rather cute."
Emily nodded, and placed one of the cups of water on Vincent's desk, taking a sip of her own water as she walked out.
"Don't worry little bro, you'll get a girl in no time with a body like that. Especially if your ass is as tight as I think it is."
This time Vincent did blush.
"Good night Emily."
Emily grinned in triumph as she closed his door.
Vincent typed in his password to log on, and was about to hit enter when he heard the sound of breaking glass followed by a light thud. Vincent turned toward the door, his brow knit in concern.
"Emily? You okay sis?"
He got up and slowly walked to the door, reaching out to the knob. A moment before his finger touched the door, it was jerked open from the other side and Vincent sighed in relief as he spotted Emily, apparently unharmed, with the door knob in her hand. He grinned at her slightly.
"Don't give me such a scare next time Emily. Had me worried for a moment."
As Vincent turned away to go back to his computer, Emily took a step into his room. Vincent stopped as he heard the sound of Emily's foot setting down on the floor, and something catching deep into the rug. He turned around and glanced down at Emily's foot. Vincent's eyes went wide at the sight of a piece of glass nearly as long as his hand jutting out of his sister's foot. He could see that she was bleeding badly as there was a red stain spreading on the carpet rapidly.
"Jesus Christ Emily! Why didn't you tell me you were hurt!?"
Vincent bent down to inspect her foot when she moaned. He stood up straight and studied her, his eyes narrowed.
At the Hell Field, Vincent had heard a lot of moaning. Moaning of exhaustion, pain, and several other kinds including orgasm as some of the other students enjoyed each other. The moan Emily had emitted was not one of pain. It was one Vincent knew rather well, as lots of the students had uttered such a moan as they entered the cafeteria after a hard day. Hunger. And Emily was staring at him rather strangely. It wasn't at his eyes. It was at his cheek.
"Emily? You okay sis?"
In response she raised her arms and lunged at him, her mouth gaping open. Vincent placed a hand on her chest and shoved her away, sending her out the door to land on her butt. Vincent winced as she also landed on the broken glass that she had dropped and blood started to pool beneath her. With another moan, Emily climbed back to her feet, totally ignoring the glass that was stuck in her foot and the glass that she had landed on. Vincent backed away, raising his right hand slightly as Emily approached him again, her mouth wide and arms outstretched.
"Emily!! Stop this right now!"
She didn't listen, and instead merely lunged again. This time Vincent grabbed her shoulders and threw her to the side where she landed on the bed. He ran out of the room and downstairs, glad he was still wearing his boots so he didn't have to worry about the broken glass. In the living room Vincent encountered a scene that nearly made him throw up.
His mother's eyes were gazing at him unseeingly while his father bit deep into her neck, ripping away flesh while blood flowed freely from her. Vincent placed a hand over his mouth, battling down his nausea as he heard his father chewing before swallowing. Vincent ran forward, grabbed his father by the shoulders, and heaved, throwing him off Vincent's mother, not noticing when he struck the wall hard enough to crush his skull and leave a splatter of blood and brains on the wall as he slid down. Vincent covered his mouth again as he saw the extent of the damage done to his mother.
Her shirt had been ripped off and there were holes ringed with bite marks all over her chest. Half her neck was also missing, and Vincent could see severed arteries as well as the inside of her windpipe. Vincent was about to turn away when his mother suddenly moved. He stared in shock as her eyes suddenly focused on him and she lunged at him, arms outstretched and mouth open. Vincent's only saving grace was reflexes learned at Hell Field. He dove back and kicked out with his right foot, catching his mother in the right side just under the ribcage. She was thrown to the side while Vincent landed on the ground, and backed away in a crabwalk, staring at her in horror as she stood up and lunged again. Vincent climbed to his feet and ran from the room into the dining room of the house. His mother followed, moaning, arms outstretched toward him.
Once in the dining room, Vincent grabbed the first thing he saw, an aluminum baseball bat. He heard a gurgling moan behind him and spun around in surprise, striking out with the bat on reflex, unintentionally putting some force behind the swing. His eyes opened wide, as did his mouth, with horror when the bat crashed into his mother skull and it caved in. Vincent stared as his mother crumpled to the floor. He fell to his knees and finally vomited when her eye, popped out from the force of crushing the right side of her skull, landed on the floor next to his boot. The baseball bat slipped from numb hands as Vincent heaved continuously, long after he had emptied his stomach. After half a minute of dry heaving Vincent heard a crash from the stair well, and climbed to his feet shakily.
He walked out into the hallway and froze as the sight of his sister bearing down on him, a hungry moan sounding. Vincent fell into a combat crouch on reflex and did something he never even thought he'd do. He hit his sister.
The first blow was a right hook to her face, and Vincent blinked in shock as her jaw gave way under the force even as his left hand flew out to smash into her ribs. She stumbled back after several cracks were heard, signifying broken ribs. Vincent stared at her in shock as several teeth fell out onto the floor. Emily climbed back to her feet and lunged, ignoring her broken ribs. Vincent grabbed one of her arms, turned his back to her for a split second, and threw her across the room with a conventional shoulder throw. She crashed back first into the wall, and Vincent ran into the dining room, half expecting to find himself face to face with his mother.
She was lying on the floor, so Vincent stepped over her, grabbed the baseball bat, and ran out a nearby doorway, into the night. It was at that point he became aware of the screams.

:Authors Notes: Ah, right into the gory action. Okay, for those of you who can't tell yet, this is a rather descriptive fic, and should only be read by mature readers. For those of you who want in on the zombie smearing action, this is your fic. This fic will be interactive, and you can send in a character. But be warned. Not everyone will survive, but those who do will appear again if I do another Resident Evil fic, which I will decide at a later date. The characters I will need are: 12 Swat members, 20 or so ordinary people, 10 Umbrella Special Forces troops, 5 Umbrella Technicians and Scientists, and that's about it for now. This is a first come first served basis. The sooner you review the better the chance you'll be in the fic. And for those of you who don't make the first cut, don't worry, there will be other chances as I go through the fic and need more people. The info that is required is: Physical description, including height, weight, hair color and what not. Character description, such as do they panic at the mere sight of blood, or do they grin insanely. Clothes, since we can't have everyone running around naked (and yes there will be nudity, brief and otherwise.). Weapons, and keep it realistic. No laser guns that can destroy buildings. We will get heavy arms later on, but I'll take care of that. That's pretty much all I can think of. Remember, the more info you give me, the better. Give me a little more than I asked for, maybe a little background info as well. It'll go a long way sometimes. Also, if some of you could actually volunteer to die, that would make things much easier.

One last thing: Do not, I repeat, DO NOT submit your characters through the review service. Send them to me via e-mail. Any character that I get through the review service will not be used. I am sorry for this, but F a n f i c t i o n . n e t has rules about using the review service like that, and I'm trying to work around them.

Well, that's about it. Please e-mail your characters in as soon as you can so I can get the next chapter up. I could write it now, but it'll be more fun with your characters.