Wow. People actually like my story. I'm so humbled. Anyways, this is my way of making up for not being able to see Resident Evil Apocalypse on opening night. Unfairness at it's finest people. And I REALLY don't give a shit about what those snot nosed movie critics said about it in today's paper, at least here in Winnipeg. They don't know shit! (total RE fan moment)
Full Summary: Micheal, a cold, aloof sixteen-year-old becomes plagued with dreams of the dead walking. At first he chocks it up to his twisted, horrific imagination, but things that happen in his hometown of Raccoon City force him to realize that his imagination isn't the ONLY thing twisted and horrific. Based on Resident Evil: Apocalypse.
Disclaimer: I don't own Resident Evil. Capcom does. I wish I did, but I'm not a rich person.
"..." means speech.
'...' means thoughts.
---Chapter 2---
"Wow. It's pretty misty out here..." Micheal spoke to himself. His parents hadn't come home yet, the telltale signs of the car not being in the driveway and their shoes gone from the doorway served as proof. Every step he took kicked away a cloud of low hanging mist. He had thought it was strange since the air didn't feel very cold, nor did it feel very moist, and yet there the mist was, hindering his sight. He could see a few meters ahead, everything else obscured in the grayness of the mist. He walked forward, heading in the direction of Sara's house cautiously.
'Getting nervous are we?' His subconscious mocked.
'Pfft! You're me! You must be nervous too.' He mentally scoffed.
'Right. You're putting up psyche to justify your own weaknesses?' His inner self laughed.
'Not psyche, logic.' He retorted.
'Seems like psyche to me...' His subconscious carried on. Once he found Sara's house in the thick mist, he walked up to the front door and knocked on it. He heard some rustling, a loud thump, then a very loud:
"BOLLOCKS!" He quirked an eyebrow, knowing that Bollocks had the definition along the lines of 'shit' and 'fuck'. Soon after, Sara opened the door and walked outside, her hair in a loose ponytail hanging down and touching the middle of her back. She was slightly flushed, looking down at the ground and avoiding his gaze.
"Such colourful vocabulary Ms. Hewitt...I didn't think you had the guts to yell out Bollocks inside your own house. What must your parents think?" Micheal asked sarcastically. Sara laughed, slapping Micheal's arm playfully.
"Wow. Some fog eh? Reminds me of London." Sara said, eyes reminiscent.
"Yeah, but feel the air. It doesn't feel cold, or moist, right?" Micheal replied. Sara waved her hand slowly through the air, then looked quizzical.
"You're right...this fog shouldn't be here...its not cold and humid enough...but what's making the fog then?" Sara asked.
"I dunno...do you think it has something to do with that shaking last night...?" Micheal asked. Sara shrugged.
"Maybe we're just crazy?" Sara said, laughing as she hurried towards school. Micheal followed suit, jogging to keep up with the energetic girl.
(Later)
"Hmm...seems that the fog hasn't gone away...well, I guess I should walk Sara home again..." Micheal decided. Something inside him felt happy that he'd be spending some time with her again but he didn't know why. He shook off the feeling and headed downstairs where he and Sara had decided to meet. He heard a slapping noise, then a thumping noise, like someone fell to the ground. He hurried downstairs, finding Sara on the ground, being harassed by the female bullies in the school.
"Hahahaha! The geek has no other friends so she starts hanging out with the biggest loser in the school..." The leader laughed cruelly.
"Mike isn't a loser...he's one of the nicest and coolest guys I've ever met!" Sara yelled. Micheal felt flattered that she would come to his defence, and went into action when the leader, Ashley raised a hand to slap Sara once again. He appeared in front of her in a flash, stopping Ashley's hand from reaching Sara's face.
"Touch her again, and I'll make sure that you won't be able to use this arm again. Stay away from her." He growled. Ashley looked angry, struggling to free her arm from his death grip.
"You won't get the chance. It's YOUR word against mine, and who here made a false bomb threat?" Ashley said confidently. Micheal's anger didn't falter.
"Oh no...I'm shaking in my booties...your reputation only came when you started giving head to every guy you saw...you're only popular because you're a whore..." He gripped her wrist tighter, making sure she couldn't get away. "...but being a whore is a hell of a lot better than being at home right? Where you're just your father's punching bag? Don't think I didn't notice the bruises..." Micheal said mockingly. Ashley's eyes widened, tearing up. Micheal let her go, Ashley dropping to the ground with a thud, rubbing her wrist and silently crying. He gently grasped Sara's wrist, pulling her away from the group of girls tending to Ashley's psychological wounds.
"Micheal! Could you slow down!? You're practically ripping my arm off! Please!" She asked softly. Micheal slowed down, letting the blonde catch up to him.
"I'm sorry. Is your wrist okay?" He asked. Sara nodded. She then turned her head to the direction of Ashley and her lackeys. "What's wrong?"
"Nothing. Thanks for helping me out...that's what she gets for saying that you're a loser. You heard what she said, right?" Micheal nodded.
"Yeah, and I also heard you defend me. Really, you didn't have to say anything, I'm used to that kind of stuff. Don't stick your neck out for me, it'll just lead you into more and more trouble." Micheal warned. Sara smiled carelessly, her freckles making her look more cute than usual. Micheal was taken aback by her carefree smile, and it caused him to turn red.
"Well come on you weird little sod! You said we'd hang out at your place, so let's go!" She told him happily. Micheal found himself half-smiling at her antics, walking home.
(Later, Drake Residence)
It was a little after the sun had set when both Micheal and Sara decided to go down to the kitchen to get some food. He found himself a lot more hungry than he thought, so he proposed that he'd make something filling. He then had a craving for some spaghetti with meat sauce.
"Sure. Anything will be okay. I just have to call my mom and tell her I'll be eating dinner here." Sara replied, walking out of the kitchen to the living room, where the phone was. Meanwhile, Micheal had begun looking for the ingredients and the appropriate pots and pans.
About fifteen minutes had passed before Sara had returned to the kitchen. Micheal was currently boiling the pasta, so he didn't notice Sara return. "Micheal...umm...my mum wants to know if it would be okay to let me sleep here for tonight. They said they had special police business..." She asked. Micheal looked at her in surprise, shocked by the fact that her mother would trust him so much. He assumed that his parents wouldn't be home still, so he agreed. "Okay. Thanks. They'll be dropping off some clothes and my PJs. I appreciate this." Sara said.
"No problem. My parents are usually gone at least two days all the time, so it's not like they'll have any say. It's fine." Micheal replied while stirring the tomato paste and other ingredients. He scooped up a little bit of the sauce, getting a taste of the red concoction. It was to his liking, not too sweet but not really that salty either. "Hey Sara, taste this and tell me what you think..." He asked the blonde, holding out the wooden spoon with a sample of the sauce. Ever the food lover, Sara jumped from her chair and made her way towards the teenage cook. She took a taste, her face turning into one of complete and utter ecstasy.
"MICHEAL! Oh my GOD that is THE most delicious spaghetti sauce I've ever tasted!" She exclaimed. Micheal laughed at her overdramaticness, and grabbed two plates from the cupboards, scooping up some spaghetti and pouring a hearty helping of his special secret recipe spaghetti meat sauce. He handed the first plate to Sara who held it carefully and carried it to the dining table with Micheal close behind. He had gotten both of them a spoon and fork, just in case she ate extremely daintily. They sat down beside each other and began eating quietly. They made light conversation with each other, finding that it was easy to do so with each other.
"Okay then...if you're so keen on knowing all about me, I was born in London. My parents were police officers in Scotland yard, and then the RCPD sent over a transcript asking for officers. My mum and dad jumped at the chance. So we packed up and moved here. I left all my friends, family, and all my cherished things behind. What about you?" Sara asked. Micheal faltered for an instant, but replied.
"Well...I was born and raised in Racoon. I've wanted to move for a long time, but my parents can't afford to quit their high paying jobs at the Umbrella Hospital, so we're stuck here. I've been made fun of by my schoolmates for half my life, and am still untainted sexually..." Sara choked on some spaghetti when Micheal mentioned sex, trying not to laugh. "...not really much to tell. I'm a huge nerd. Straight A student. I swear, as soon as I graduate, I'm out of here." Micheal continued.
"So you're like me? You want to get away from a life you had to live?" Sara asked. Micheal quirked an eyebrow.
"Yeah." Micheal replied.
"Then what about your parents? Won't you miss them?" Sara inquired.
Micheal shook his head. "No. They were hardly EVER here. The only thing I can remember about my parents ever being affectionate is when we moved into this house. That was the only time they looked happy. That was when I was seven. Anything before that I can't remember." Micheal answered. Sara looked sad for a while, then smiled. She rested her head on his shoulder with her eyes closed.
"That's okay. Memories are sometimes fleeting. They are like photographs. They sometimes accumulate and are covered by memories that were recently made. Look hard enough, and you can find them." Sara said airily, like she was totally comforted by resting her head on Micheal's head like that.
"You know? I think you're right. Bad memories can be replaced by good ones." Micheal said with a true smile. Sara looked up at him.
"Okay then. Question 2. Top five best moments in your life..." Sara asked.
"Well, Fifth: I rigged the vents of my elementary school with a stink bomb. Cleared out the school in seconds." Micheal counted off the experiences with his fingers. Sara laughed heartily at the notion that Micheal would do something that funny.
"Fourth: Umm... When I left Raccoon for a month, staying in L.A. with my cousins. Such a fun time. Third: The time when I broke my leg on the play structure in first grade, and I met a really good friend of mine at the hospital. He was going in for Chemotherapy, but he didn't make it..." Micheal paused to remember that particular person. "Second. The time when I was mistaken for a model, and was chased by a flock of women, both young and old. I've never had such a fun run in my life. And the number one best moments in my life is being...umm...your friend." He trailed off near the end, mumbling the "your friend" part.
"What?" Sara asked leaning her ear closer.
"I said I liked being your friend..." Sara's eyes were shocked, the top of her cheeks dusting a light pink. "...you probably think I'm this huge loser now don't you...?" Micheal chuckled quietly. Sara shook her head profusely, denying his assumption.
"No. No! I was just...surprised. You like being my friend? That's so sweet of you! Come here..." She replied, pulling Micheal in for a hug that was very awkwardly reciprocated. Sara glanced at the clock which read 11:30 pm. "Wow, it's really late." She said to herself. Micheal released Sara quickly, glancing at the grandfather clock standing at the wall across the dining room. They got up, Micheal picking up the plates and utensils and heading back into the kitchen. He placed the dishes in the dishwasher pressing the start button after pressing in the commands for a light load. The doorbell rang out a familiar tune.
"Sara! I think it's your parents!" He called as he walked towards the door. He turned the deadbolt and opened the door to come face to face with Mrs. Hewitt.
"Hello there. You must be Micheal. Jeremy and I have heard a lot of good things about you. Here is Sara's stuff. There's a change of clothes and her pyjamas. Have a good night." Mrs. Hewitt said, handing the bag with her clothes in it to Micheal. She walked down the driveway, getting into the police car. In the passenger's seat was Sara's father, Jeremy. Micheal smiled and waved to the police officers, both of them waving back. He walked back inside, closing and locking the door. He then headed upstairs where Sara was waiting and handing her the bag.
"Bathroom is down the hall and to the right." He told her, directing her to the bathroom only his parents use. Sara nodded, hauling the bag down the hall and disappearing into the bathroom. Micheal then closed his door and changed into his black, silk pyjamas. Sara returned, wearing baby blue dove pyjamas. She took a look at Micheal's sleeping attire and giggled.
"So, you like?" She asked, spinning in place. On the back of the pyjama tops, the word 'cutie' was embroidered. Micheal laughed quietly, turning his back to her. Sara laughed at what Micheal's pyjamas said.
"That's so funny! 'I can't believe I still wear pyajamas!' " She said between giggles. Suddenly it got quiet.
"So...umm...you should take the bed...I insist." Micheal said awkwardly, sitting on the futon/bed he had in his room. Sara nodded, removing her glasses and climbing into the king sized bed.
"Good night Micheal." Sara said with a smile. The smile was reciprocated as Micheal drifted into sleep...
---End Chapter 2!---
So ends Chapter two. I like it. I also have most of the story planned out as well. Forewarning, I WILL tie both the movies and the games into this. That was the one thing I didn't like about the movies IMO. They should have tied in a lot more than they did. Well, I like reviews, they're my food. Please keep me well fed, and I will keep this story going.