Projects: Biopsy, Kyrie and Collins

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the Resident Evil Movies or Games. I do own all of the characters, at least the ones so far. I'll bring up main characters later but there'll be a separate disclaimer for that. Also, I have never played any of the Resident Evil games, so please, do not hold any inaccuracies against me. :) Thanks.

Prologue

"Boys, I'm headin' out," a young man, dark skinned but clean shaven told the other scientist who surrounded a cluttered table. They all wore the boring white lab coats of the trade. One looked back at him and nodded.

"Night George. See you tomorrow."

George smiled. "Don't work too late guys. We don't want you screwing up and killing us all 'cause you didn't get enough sleep."

"Like that's gonna happen," the other scientist returned with a smirk. George shook his head, laughing quietly, and walked out the door. He scanned his ID card at the door and showed it to the guard as he left. Throwing his briefcase in the passenger's seat, he adjusted the rearview mirror, seeing a small dried bloodstain cut on his cheek. "Damn, musta cut myself shaving and not seen it."

George started up the engine and pulled out of the lot. He listened to the radio quietly, watching the streetlights pass as he sped up. Glancing at the clock, he sighed. It was nearly one am. The parents were not going to like him working this late. After about only 20 minutes, George pulled into the driveway of his parent's house quietly, trying not to wake the rest of his family. He went through the front door and up the stairs, not even bothering to do anything before getting ready to get a few hours of sleep. As he walked to the bathroom, he saw his sister's light on and heard her talking quietly.

"Kyrie?" he said softly, opening the door a crack. He found his younger sister sitting on her bed, her dark brown hair gracefully sprinkling her shoulders. In one hand she held her phone and in the other was pen, scratching mindlessly at a notepad sitting on her knee. George crossed his arms over his chest. "What are you doing up? You've got classes tomorrow."

Kyrie looked up and frowned. "Not 'til noon at least. Just twenty more minutes."

Her older brother shook his head. "No. Who are you on the phone with anyway?"

"Spot," she answered nonchalantly.

"A dog?"

"Derek, stupid. You do remember him, yeah? My boyfriend?"

"Yeah, 'course," George lied. Working forty plus hours a week gave him little time to converse with his younger sister. "Just get to bed. Mom and Dad'll be mad if they find out you were up this late."

"Alright. Night Georgie," she replied with an innocent smile. He left, shaking his head.

Chapter 1- Kyrie

I watched as George left, not hanging up the phone. I didn't want to and I wasn't gonna. I mean, I hadn't talked to Spot in almost a week! He was busy with his college stuff and I was busy with mine. My brother would never understand. He was almost a bookworm and never had a girlfriend so he didn't get it. Well, yeah, I'm a bookish type person but at least I have a social life.

"Sorry. George's home," I told Spot, apologizing for the lack of conversation.

"Ah," Spot responded. "What's he doin' home so late? Your brother doesn't seem like the type who'd be out partying on a Thursday night, or any other night for that matter."

"He was workin' on this project for Umbrella. Some crazy germ or somethin'. He can't say anythin' about it though. Top secret, ya know?"

"Doesn't your dad work there too?"

"Yeah. They work opposite shifts. Dad gets the normal ones because he's higher up. They're working on the same thing, actually. Its kinda funny when they talk about it in front of me and mom without giving away top secret info."

"Sounds hilarious," was what I got. My boyfriend, the empathizer.

"Is there a time when you aren't sarcastic?"

"During sex," he said without thinking.

"Typical guy," I laughed quietly, not wanting to wake my parents. Looking up from my Physics 101 homework, I smiled at the picture of him and me. Spot was what we called "very Caucasian." I was part Greek and Navaho while he was mostly German and English. So I was olive skinned and he was pasty. I was never jealous of that but he had the most gorgeous blue eyes. It wasn't fair.

"What can I say? It's true." In my mind I could see him shrugging on the other side of the line. "Hey, what are you doing tomorrow night? My parents keep bugging me that they never get to see you anymore. You wanna come over for dinner and a movie?"

"Sounds nice. I'm there." Spot's parents were the nicest people ever. They treated me like the daughter they always wanted.

"Could you help me with my chem too? I've got an exam next week."

"Sure thing. I'd better get going though hun. I'm gonna see if I can get a couple hours of sleep before tomorrow."

"Alright. I'd better finish some of this homework anyways, then I'll hit the sack. Sleep tight Kyrie."

"Night hun." I hung up the phone and put my Physics away. It was already late so I crawled into bed and put out the light.

I don't know how long I slept for but I woke to a crash. Sitting up, I looked around the room, glancing at corners. I moved closer to the foot of my bed, trying to see the door. As I leaned forward, I made out a shadow. My heart raced for a good couple seconds until I realized it was my brother.

"George, don't ever do that again. You scared the living shit otta me," I told him, sitting back. He said nothing, only took a heavy step into the moonlight. It wasn't until then that I saw how pale his skin was, a sickly, putrid grey. Blood dripped down his cheeks and off his hands. I didn't want to think about where it came from, thought I knew it wasn't his own. His eyes were blank, with no emotion behind them, as if he was dead.

He took another step towards me but I couldn't move. Fear grabbed me and crushed me like an egg under an elephant. I was trapped, screaming in my mind until his cold hand grazed my foot. I emerged from the blanket of fear and pushed myself against the headboard of my bed. He reached again but I kicked his hand away, finally letting out a scream. It did nothing to avert his attacks.

George grabbed my ankle with amazing strength, almost crushing it. Hot tears streamed down my cheeks, from fear and pain. My brother was never this strong; he could barely carry me before. His eyes were what scared me most, their lifelessness chilling to the bone. Something was wrong with him.

I kicked him with my free leg and tried to dislodge myself but he didn't let go. His other hand clawed at my skin, ripping at it. I turned onto my stomach, trying to crawl, needing to escape. I felt George's fingers piece the skin, digging into the muscle. Screaming, I clung to the sheets of my bed, tears streaming down my cheeks, from fear and pain. I could feel him tearing the flesh from my leg. I'd never felt so much pain in my life. As I struggled, my brother grabbed my other leg, digging his teeth into the knee. I howled, letting more rain fall from my eyes, I hadn't realized it then but I knew I was going to die. My own brother would rip me to pieces, watching me die. I held tight to my mattress, unable to move my legs.

The loudest noise I'd ever heard shook my from my daze, an explosion. I was no longer being pulled and water poured from the ceiling. Turning onto my back, I saw George's body laying facedown on my bed, a gaping hole in the back of his head. My father stood in the doorway, lowering the pistol he kept in his bedside table. He ran to me, shoving my brother's body off my torn legs. I shook, starring ahead, crying.

"Kyrie? Kyrie, look at me," he said, turning my head to face him. He forced a smile. His hands twitched. "Pumpkin, you need to tell me, did he bite you?"

"I don't know," I stammered. "I think so. Papa, what's going on?"

My father's face saddened, his old brown eyes filling with tears. His silver hair was messy, streaked with blood. "I'm pretty sure the virus your brother and I were working on got out. George caught it somehow. It killed him, Kyrie. The virus reanimates the dead cells. It turns people into zombies. They live only to spread the virus. Do you understand?"

I nodded. If George had the virus, then why wasn't he with my mother too? "Papa? Where's mom?" My voice was weak. My legs hurt dully but I didn't look at them. I didn't want to see the damage.

I saw my father look away. "George killed her...she caught the virus. She..." he held up his arm. It was bandaged tightly with a single, circular bloodstain. "She bit me. I had to kill her. I think I have it now."

I pushed him away but he didn't leave.

"Kyrie, I'm not going to hurt you. I don't want to. The virus won't kick in for another hour or so but I'm not going to take any chances."

I could barely hear what he was saying. I felt woozy and lightheaded. I felt my body drift forward but Papa caught me.

"Pumpkin, listen to me. I'm going to give you the phone and I want you to call 911."

I nodded but I was just so tired but I didn't understand fully. He placed the pistol in my hand. "I'm going downstairs. If I come back up here again, I need you to shoot me. I won't be myself."

I don't take it and grabbed my father's bloody shirt. As I sobbed, he wrapped his arms around me.

"I can't..." I told him. He kissed the top of my head, comforting me.

"Shh...you'll be fine," he whispered. "I just don't wanna see myself hurting you like George did. I promise I will make sure that doesn't happen."

In the fog from the loss of blood, I didn't understand. My father kissed my forehead.

"Of all the people in the world, I know you'll be the one to pull through." He smiled and left my room, placing the phone and the pistol at my side. I had no idea what was going on, I was exhausted and alone, unable to move my legs. I'd never felt so afraid in my life. Tears ran down my cheeks but I didn't know why. An explosion shook the house, louder than the first. My body shook in fear with it. I finally understood. If the first one was a gunshot to kill George then...

My father had just shot himself with his hunting rifle to save me.

I sobbed; I was the only survivor, and I was going to die too, just like my brother, If I didn't get help soon, I would give the virus to other people. I grabbed the phone and dialed the number of the only person I trusted.