Billy's Story
Adapted form RE:O
By: Tyler Graham
It was I guess you could say hot, but that was an understatement. The wind was howling and the sounds of a great storm rising in the not-to-distant
future blazed on my mind. Though this seemed to be normal to any person living in Raccoon City, it was not for me. I am Billy Connen age 24. I have an immense, but gloomy story to tell, though it will take much time to tell
it. I guess it would be best to start from the
Very beginning....
It was a war, though it was not my war. Rather it was my countries war, I was simply a pawn in their chess board. I was sent to a refugee camp down in the Congo somewhere. There my superiors said, there were hordes of weapon supplies for the all too common rebellion apposing my government. I was 20 then, barely even out of the cradle as my chief in command put it. About 2 days into the mission we arrived at our extraction point. "This is not a fucking weapon depot" claimed Jack Donaldson my commrad, we had joined at the core at the same time and have been quite good friends. I knew it wasn't, it was obvious, and it was just a quiet village, barely even noticeable on a map. They were farmers and blacksmiths mostly, but they only produced tools such as small hammers and a few hoes for the sowing of seeds. I knew that the superiors only wanted to observe the village, well that what I heard.
What actually happened was somewhere south of the truth. Apparentualy there was some kind of new virus, which had spread through the local community's latly. Sadly not even with the years of labor in the service could I have experienced such torment. The sick were just laying on the ground waiting for death, and the children danced around them, as if they were playing with them, these old people getting picked on by little kids, singing and dancing, dancing and singing. Of all the places in the world this small village was likely the most horrible, the most vial that I had ever witnessed. Though that was only the start of the pain that was evident there. There were flies on the corpses of the dead, which they just heaped on to piles as if they were just things that needed to be thrown away. The smell of rotting bodies haunted the land on, and around the site of the village. The feeling of loathing and of decrepit living ensnarled you even if one was miles away. This did not mean that these people did not deserve to die, no not even them. No one deserves that fate. The team leader's intentions were not clear until that moment, there never were any weapons here, and our only mission was to murder a whole village, massacring them. They never even had a chance; all that you could hear were cries of children, and semi-auto machinegun shells hitting the ground.
That was not even the worst of this tragic event. Soon the captain started to coral the remaining survivors into the center of the village, and he wanted the team to encircle the people, and slaughter them. Apparently I was the only one of sound mind there, or should I say the only one there that had not been bought out by Umbrella Corp. They had placed an offer of five thousand dollars, to anyone who finished their mission without questions, and if they completed their mission no matter what. I refused to follow my horrible orders. They swiftly reprimanded me. I was then knocked out and dragged to a secure location; well that was what I thought. Not long after my arrival I had been transported to a train, a train leading in to a deep vast jungle. Well it could have been a jungle, there was almost no way to get in, or out with ought being lost for an extensive amount of time. This is the beginning of the end.
I heard some talk of the new Ebola virus strain, that Umbrella had produced, this train car I could tell, after regaining much of my consciousness, was a military train, obviously I had been shanghaied, or that would have made for a great story, but I could not bear the pain in my side no longer, I soon found out that they did not only capture me, but also beat me, and torched me to divulge information, pertaining to what I believe to be about Umbrella, and what I knew about there going-ons. They keep mentioning the Ebola virus strain, and about some new promising results, something about walking dead, or something, I can not remember clearly. That was when it happened, the event that shook the world and devastated even the stoutest of men.
There was a storm out side, but not an ordinary storm, something was wrong, I had just gotten my sight back, and the look of terror upon the gentlemen's faces would haunted me for ever. The talk irritably turned into panic and screaming. The storm was only getting worse; I must have been in the very back of the train because it took too long for the screaming to reach me, howling in my head, worse than sirens. I did not understand it, but all I knew was that I was being untied from my post, and being dragged to a door, a door banging, and throbbing at the hinges, the shrill sound for nails on a chalk board coming from behind the door. I was being sacrificed though I was sentenced to my death; they were choosing to have me torn apart, instead of them. Fools, petty fools, they will learn soon enough, I thought, I may be dead when they do, but I don't think that whatever is behind this door will stop, and keep attacking everyone till there is no one left.
That was only the skin of the truth, what was behind that door was something far more hideous than I could have even imagined. There was no name for the creature, for we end up calling the creature a humanoid leach. The body looks just like a human, with complete features, almost perfect; except one small flaw, they hardly move, and will never speak. They are composed entirely of leaches, every part of their body, and when they are ready to attack that mutate in to some kind of creature, that words can not describe; the leaches making up this abomination can not be normal leaches, no not by a long shot, you could see the membrane of the beings through their skin, almost as if they were soul bound to carry something, something lethal, something that would consume any other living creature. Once the men untied me I was free, still with no weapon, and being dragged toward the door, witch had ceased to bang, a good sign, but not the best. They threw me out the door, my legs had not regained their full strength yet, so I must have looked like a bumbling fool, no matter, there was nothing there, what appeared to be the coach seating train car. Not a too shabby place if I might say so my self, there was something, but I could not put my finger on it quiet yet... something was amidst.
There were bodies on the ceiling, oozing with blood, and there was evidence of their internal organs being torn out, almost as if they were being eaten alive. What more, some of the bodies were being feasted of by those infernal leaches, creating egg sacks everywhere, slime covered sacks, looking much similar to the vial creatures themselves. There was the sounds of screeching again, this time much louder and much closer to my soul that ever before, it felt like so much anguish had been observed here, that my very bones were about to break under the stress of the screeching, the pain was so vigorous, it was almost too much to bear; nothing could be done about the sound, nothing at all, all you could do is stand there and hold your ears, even though your ears would seem to be dead, and your body would go numb, and your mind would feel the urge to bleed, and spill the interior slime over everything, but that was the good part, when the vomiting would start, and cramps from such stress, such the body has never been meant to take, then the howling stopped. I could not move once again, but I could still see, and from the room I came from had been completely demolished, torn apart along with all the helpless people in that car, the sight could have been better, I could have been back home with my friends, and my dogs.
Everything had become quiet clear to me, all the time I spent worrying about my problems, and how I got into this mess, I completely neglected, the remote idea that Umbrella would be behind this hole operation, the train, the jungle, all events so far were eructated be Umbrella. Soon I found my self gaining function of my legs again, only this time, I felt more rested, and full of vigor. I had explored much of the train, except some of the oddly locked rooms, they only made since mainly because this is a military train, a very fancy one, but military none the less. There were sounds of shouting, and of howling coming form the woods. (I had explored a little out of the train, because after it stopped, I found my self quiet famished) There were sounds of people, I was not sure how many, but it seemed about eight or so, people running, "hopefully fully armed" I said to my self sadistically. I found that that was not too far from the truth, there were about seven of them, when they originally set out, but after a plain crash, being attacked by wild dogs, their numbers had quiet dwindled. There were only three of them now. They all were badly wounded, and in need of some sort of help, I could tell, even form my hiding spot. ( What you did not think I was just going to let them capture me again did you!) I later found out they were looking for me ( I believe I am famous) I had been sent to death row, and was on transport. As I heard those words death row, I could only wonder, what was I doing down in the jungle that fair night, and why they were after me.
End of chapter 1 coming soon::::chapter 2::::
Adapted form RE:O
By: Tyler Graham
It was I guess you could say hot, but that was an understatement. The wind was howling and the sounds of a great storm rising in the not-to-distant
future blazed on my mind. Though this seemed to be normal to any person living in Raccoon City, it was not for me. I am Billy Connen age 24. I have an immense, but gloomy story to tell, though it will take much time to tell
it. I guess it would be best to start from the
Very beginning....
It was a war, though it was not my war. Rather it was my countries war, I was simply a pawn in their chess board. I was sent to a refugee camp down in the Congo somewhere. There my superiors said, there were hordes of weapon supplies for the all too common rebellion apposing my government. I was 20 then, barely even out of the cradle as my chief in command put it. About 2 days into the mission we arrived at our extraction point. "This is not a fucking weapon depot" claimed Jack Donaldson my commrad, we had joined at the core at the same time and have been quite good friends. I knew it wasn't, it was obvious, and it was just a quiet village, barely even noticeable on a map. They were farmers and blacksmiths mostly, but they only produced tools such as small hammers and a few hoes for the sowing of seeds. I knew that the superiors only wanted to observe the village, well that what I heard.
What actually happened was somewhere south of the truth. Apparentualy there was some kind of new virus, which had spread through the local community's latly. Sadly not even with the years of labor in the service could I have experienced such torment. The sick were just laying on the ground waiting for death, and the children danced around them, as if they were playing with them, these old people getting picked on by little kids, singing and dancing, dancing and singing. Of all the places in the world this small village was likely the most horrible, the most vial that I had ever witnessed. Though that was only the start of the pain that was evident there. There were flies on the corpses of the dead, which they just heaped on to piles as if they were just things that needed to be thrown away. The smell of rotting bodies haunted the land on, and around the site of the village. The feeling of loathing and of decrepit living ensnarled you even if one was miles away. This did not mean that these people did not deserve to die, no not even them. No one deserves that fate. The team leader's intentions were not clear until that moment, there never were any weapons here, and our only mission was to murder a whole village, massacring them. They never even had a chance; all that you could hear were cries of children, and semi-auto machinegun shells hitting the ground.
That was not even the worst of this tragic event. Soon the captain started to coral the remaining survivors into the center of the village, and he wanted the team to encircle the people, and slaughter them. Apparently I was the only one of sound mind there, or should I say the only one there that had not been bought out by Umbrella Corp. They had placed an offer of five thousand dollars, to anyone who finished their mission without questions, and if they completed their mission no matter what. I refused to follow my horrible orders. They swiftly reprimanded me. I was then knocked out and dragged to a secure location; well that was what I thought. Not long after my arrival I had been transported to a train, a train leading in to a deep vast jungle. Well it could have been a jungle, there was almost no way to get in, or out with ought being lost for an extensive amount of time. This is the beginning of the end.
I heard some talk of the new Ebola virus strain, that Umbrella had produced, this train car I could tell, after regaining much of my consciousness, was a military train, obviously I had been shanghaied, or that would have made for a great story, but I could not bear the pain in my side no longer, I soon found out that they did not only capture me, but also beat me, and torched me to divulge information, pertaining to what I believe to be about Umbrella, and what I knew about there going-ons. They keep mentioning the Ebola virus strain, and about some new promising results, something about walking dead, or something, I can not remember clearly. That was when it happened, the event that shook the world and devastated even the stoutest of men.
There was a storm out side, but not an ordinary storm, something was wrong, I had just gotten my sight back, and the look of terror upon the gentlemen's faces would haunted me for ever. The talk irritably turned into panic and screaming. The storm was only getting worse; I must have been in the very back of the train because it took too long for the screaming to reach me, howling in my head, worse than sirens. I did not understand it, but all I knew was that I was being untied from my post, and being dragged to a door, a door banging, and throbbing at the hinges, the shrill sound for nails on a chalk board coming from behind the door. I was being sacrificed though I was sentenced to my death; they were choosing to have me torn apart, instead of them. Fools, petty fools, they will learn soon enough, I thought, I may be dead when they do, but I don't think that whatever is behind this door will stop, and keep attacking everyone till there is no one left.
That was only the skin of the truth, what was behind that door was something far more hideous than I could have even imagined. There was no name for the creature, for we end up calling the creature a humanoid leach. The body looks just like a human, with complete features, almost perfect; except one small flaw, they hardly move, and will never speak. They are composed entirely of leaches, every part of their body, and when they are ready to attack that mutate in to some kind of creature, that words can not describe; the leaches making up this abomination can not be normal leaches, no not by a long shot, you could see the membrane of the beings through their skin, almost as if they were soul bound to carry something, something lethal, something that would consume any other living creature. Once the men untied me I was free, still with no weapon, and being dragged toward the door, witch had ceased to bang, a good sign, but not the best. They threw me out the door, my legs had not regained their full strength yet, so I must have looked like a bumbling fool, no matter, there was nothing there, what appeared to be the coach seating train car. Not a too shabby place if I might say so my self, there was something, but I could not put my finger on it quiet yet... something was amidst.
There were bodies on the ceiling, oozing with blood, and there was evidence of their internal organs being torn out, almost as if they were being eaten alive. What more, some of the bodies were being feasted of by those infernal leaches, creating egg sacks everywhere, slime covered sacks, looking much similar to the vial creatures themselves. There was the sounds of screeching again, this time much louder and much closer to my soul that ever before, it felt like so much anguish had been observed here, that my very bones were about to break under the stress of the screeching, the pain was so vigorous, it was almost too much to bear; nothing could be done about the sound, nothing at all, all you could do is stand there and hold your ears, even though your ears would seem to be dead, and your body would go numb, and your mind would feel the urge to bleed, and spill the interior slime over everything, but that was the good part, when the vomiting would start, and cramps from such stress, such the body has never been meant to take, then the howling stopped. I could not move once again, but I could still see, and from the room I came from had been completely demolished, torn apart along with all the helpless people in that car, the sight could have been better, I could have been back home with my friends, and my dogs.
Everything had become quiet clear to me, all the time I spent worrying about my problems, and how I got into this mess, I completely neglected, the remote idea that Umbrella would be behind this hole operation, the train, the jungle, all events so far were eructated be Umbrella. Soon I found my self gaining function of my legs again, only this time, I felt more rested, and full of vigor. I had explored much of the train, except some of the oddly locked rooms, they only made since mainly because this is a military train, a very fancy one, but military none the less. There were sounds of shouting, and of howling coming form the woods. (I had explored a little out of the train, because after it stopped, I found my self quiet famished) There were sounds of people, I was not sure how many, but it seemed about eight or so, people running, "hopefully fully armed" I said to my self sadistically. I found that that was not too far from the truth, there were about seven of them, when they originally set out, but after a plain crash, being attacked by wild dogs, their numbers had quiet dwindled. There were only three of them now. They all were badly wounded, and in need of some sort of help, I could tell, even form my hiding spot. ( What you did not think I was just going to let them capture me again did you!) I later found out they were looking for me ( I believe I am famous) I had been sent to death row, and was on transport. As I heard those words death row, I could only wonder, what was I doing down in the jungle that fair night, and why they were after me.
End of chapter 1 coming soon::::chapter 2::::