Yet another chapter finalized and edited for your reading pleasure. Hope you enjoy, and please let me know how you enjoyed this one, I particularly focused on the humor between two of the characters. It should be obvious as to who they are. Thank you, and please review.


Chapter Six

"Well…it's not locked…" Joseph said with a sigh.

It had been nearly and hour before Leon and he were able to find their way through the forest. After Brad had been attacked by the dogs they had ran as quickly as possible, ran for nearly fifteen minutes before they felt it was safe enough to reduce to a brisk walk. Heading Southeast, according to Joseph, would lead them to the mansion. Yes, and after about an hour of searching through dark forest only to find they had circled around the mansion twice before coming to its back gardens. They had scaled a tall, black iron-wrought fence to stumble upon a massive collection of tombstones merged in tall, slowly wavering grass. Walking along a twisting path of rough stone, they soon came to the back of the mansion. It was massive, and a stone staircase that jutted to the right then up to a rear door stood before them. Standing tall upon a black post was a bright light. Its blaze gleaming down upon their shoulders as it stood surrounded by an aura of fluttering moths.

Their stood a single door made of iron, beaten with rust and mold from weather. The lock was missing, and a series of gaping holes stood where it should have been.

"Do you think this was a gun shot?" Leon asked as he examined the hole.

"Dude, I know it's a gun shot. I just hope it was one of ours, and that they're still alive in here…whatever the hell this place is."

"It's the Spencer Estate."

"I fucking know that. I mean, well just look at it. Does this seem like a cozy get away to you?"

Leon didn't reply, but instead was busy reloading his Desert Eagle. Joseph was inspired to check his shotgun, and did so for a moment. Leon finished first and waited patiently until Joseph had loaded and was ready. Those images from back at the precinct continued to perforate Leon's mind, stinging at his senses. Whoever murdered those poor innocent people were in here. He knew it. Joseph stepped back and violently thrust his foot into the door, a horrible rusted sound of squeaking hinges echoing as the door was flung open. Leon burst in and fell to one knee, aiming the powerful magnum into the putrid smell of must that hit his nostrils like a brick wall. Joseph followed with the shotgun, whipping it around as he hopped in. Light from the outside flooded in behind them, stretching their shadows across the floor and down a long staircase into what looked to be the main hall of the mansion. Leon could see what he assumed to be the front doors, across the hall from them in the dim flickering candlelight.

They relaxed. Nothing was there. Joseph shut the door behind him and did his best to hold it shut, still remaining somewhat paranoid of the dogs that wandered the outside. Leon eyed the entire room, suspicious of every movement as the light from the candles danced upon the walls with shadows.

"Check the main floor," Joseph muttered, "I'll get the upper balcony."

"You picked the easier one," Leon snapped.

"Oh what? You want the one with all the dark shadowy stuff, fine!"

"No, I'll take this floor."

"Fuck you, man."

Leon began to tip toe silently down the wide staircase while Joseph ventured up a staircase to the left, disappearing from the light below. Leon reached the main floor and felt a sudden rupture in the thick billows silence as a flash of lightning illuminated the room before a massive crack of thunder followed. Leon stumbled, and felt his boots squeak upon the tile floor. He looked down to see his boots stood in a puddle of blood. With his eyes, he followed a sort of stream that led from the middle of the stairs down to where he stood, noticing the splatters upon the railing and the pillars around the staircase. Kneeling down, Leon slid his hands across the puddle and felt it with his fingers. It was new; the blood was still very much in a liquid state. Jesus, it was even warm.

"Hey Joseph," Leon called.

"What! What the fuck man! You scared me!"

"I found blood down here, it's new."

"Yea," Joseph's panicky voice calmed, his voice cracking as it did so, "I found some of the nasty ass glop here too. It's dried though, been here awhile."

Leon looked around the surrounding room that seemed to ebb in with darkness.

"I say we found our killers' hideout," he murmured.

"Yes…and isn't it a lovely little summer home with a nice arrangement of not too modern not too old fashioned architecture with just a hint of European twist…fuck…" Joseph murmured to himself as he began to head down to the main floor.

"Hey, do you think we should split up? There's a lot of doors to cover here," asked Leon as Joseph hopped down the stairs.

"Oh yea, hey and while we're at it, I can leave little notes to you saying how much I miss you and gossiping about the latest jeebies in this shit hole," Joseph sputtered out as he rolled his eyes.

Leon was not amused, "You know Joseph…I wonder if the murderers here really are cannibals…do you think maybe they sauté their food before eating it? Or just raw?"

"Dude…I will sauté your ass and feed you to any cannibals if you don't shut the hell up. That is not funny."

It was a well-known fact that any horror movie such as Dawn of the Dead, or Night of the Living Dead put Joseph in a state of trembling fear. Anything to do with the feasting undead in massing hordes terrified him.

"Oh what Joseph? I think you're ass would taste much better. It's so uptight and…perky…"

"…You did not just call my ass perky."

Leon shrugged.

"That's it Kennedy, When this is over-"

Joseph stumbled back into silence as an abrupt series of gunshots echoed from one of the sets of double doors. The two men stood stiff, staring at the door as though in a state of petrifaction. They looked at the doors, eyes wide half expecting another hint of danger to sound out. However, Only the flashes of lightning and rolls of thunder called.

"Shit…" Joseph whispered.

Leon gulped, praying to god he would be all right and he would find help. Help…there was no help. He knew it, he was the help. He was now a S.T.A.R.S. member. He didn't give a shit even if this place was infested with zombies, it was his job to secure everything and everyone. Leon swallowed his fear, exhaled, and his boots began to clunk across the tiles towards the door.

"Wai-wait Leon," Joseph stumbled after him, "Dude. What are you doing?"

"Joseph, we have go to see what that was."

"No no, wait just wait. We can't just barge in. We should wait for back up, and then find a way to sneak in."

Leon sighed, "Joseph. You are a S.T.A.R.S. member. You are a proud member-"

"Well not necessarily, I actually wanted to be a vet-"

"-a proud member who's every duty is entitled to protect and serve the innocent. What does S.T.A.R.S. stand for?"

"Dude, come on-"

"What does S.T.A.R.S. stand for?"

Joseph sighed and grumbled, "Special tactics and rescue squad…"

"Exactly. And yes we're in a spooky mansion, surrounded by maybe over a dozen murdering cult cannibals. But what is that? A special situation in need of special tactics? And what are we here to do for our comrades? Rescue them. Because we are a rescue squad."

"Yea…yea you're right. Okay Let's do this."

"Okay?"

"Okay."

"All right."

"Yea let's do this"

"Hell yea man let's go!"

"Let's fucking do it dammit!"

"Shit yea! All right!"

"Yea!……you go first."

"Ugh…Joseph…"

Leon reached for one of the two doors, the brass handle covered in dust. He nodded at Joseph who stood not far behind, shotgun ready, and thrust the door open violently. Leon dropped to his knees as he entered, thrusting his gun towards anything that moved. Joseph followed immediately, whipping the shotgun around in frantic swooping motions. It was a massive dining hall, and it was empty. Hesitantly, they began to explore the room.

"Nothing, this place is kinda fucked up, man," Joseph remarked as he gazed at a painting of two knights stabbing one another simultaneously.

Leon didn't reply, he only began to walk down along the table towards a crackling fireplace that stood in the far wall. The fire flickered and twisted amongst its flames, setting a yellow glow upon the black and white tiled floor. All the while Leon stared to his left, watching the windows and the blackness that lie beyond them. Never in his life had he been so suspicious of windows as he was now. Joseph followed behind, touching and prodding everything as usual. They came to the fireplace and watched if for a moment, allowing the heat to warm their shivering bodies. Leon had broken into a cold sweat, his heart still trying to manage and pace itself after the incident in the woods. Brad…he hardly knew the guy. It was so shocking to realize that now he'd never get to know him. The actual shock had only set in a few moments ago, and Leon had found it hard to breathe. Brad was dead, he was eaten alive by…dogs. Just ordinary household dogs.

"Leon, there's a door here. I bet the gunshots came from here."

"Yea…unless they came from up there."

The two rose their heads to gaze at a balcony, blanketed entirely in shadow so that only a dark oak railing could be seen. Despite his suspicions of anything that was up in that darkness watching them, Leon turned towards the door. It was best to start with what's nearest, and He gingerly opened the door.

"Leon wait!" Joseph's words started as a cry but immediately fainted to a whisper as the door creaked open.

The door groaned as it was opened to reveal hallway that immediately went to the left or right. It was dark, very dark, but Leon and Joseph stepped in, closing the door behind them. The hard wood floor creaked and groaned beneath them as they stood for a moment in the hallway. The walls were lined with the ugliest of wallpaper, a stained yellow with floral designs upon it, and tacky tables occasionally lined either side. A single lamp hanging from the wall cast a weak light upon them. To the right down the hallway it was completely black, and at the very far end they could see a faint light from another lamp. To the left the hallway went towards an open window draped with large, tattered curtains, and then the hallway turned sharply right.

"Let's go left," whispered Leon.

They turned towards the open window, and crept quietly down the hallway, every step of theirs causing some part of the floor to squeak under pressure. They reached the corner where the hallway turned right, and that was when the smell became evident. It was horrible, a thick hot stench of rot that burned at their lungs and nostrils. Leon's eyes watered, the smell lurching in his throat and making him gag. He stared at the window, feeling gusts linger through its opened mouth into the room, the curtains wavering and floating out upon the wind. A thick bush of some foreign tropical plant rustled from the wind as well, gently swaying to and fro. Leon looked at Joseph, who shook his head, sweat slipping down his cheek.

Leon took a deep breath, and spun around the corner, the barrel of his gun facing down a small couch and chair, and the end of the hallway. Oh wait no, a small alcove lit by a single bulb to the left revealed another door. But Leon had not the time to concentrate on anything else, as he stumbled over a rough bend in the carpet. Only when he touched it the carpet made a squelching sound. Leon looked down and gasped, stumbling back into Joseph who in turn stumbled away in the wall. It was Kenneth Sullivan. Or…what parts remained of him. His mangled body lay staring blankly up at them, his eyes a milky white and his mouth lying ajar. His legs were thrown to one side, and his arms lay sprawled out beside him as though he was pinned down. His throat had been ripped open as well as his stomach and part of his chest. His ribs lay exposed, broken and twisted away. His heart and several other organs cast out in a bloody mess upon the carpet. His gun lay upon the floor, and Leon knelt down to feel the barrel.

"Still warm, it was Kenneth who fired those shots," Leon muttered over his shoulder.

"Jesus fucking Christ…"

Leon looked closer at the arms of the carcass, and he could see deep teeth marks, or just large chunks where the meat and flesh were torn out.

"Just like the other bodies…" muttered Leon, "Joseph I think we found where the killers are…and I really think they are cannibals."

There was no reply. No noise. Nothing, everything was completely silent. Then he heard it. A soft wet, rattling sound, like someone breathing through a stuffed up nose, stuffed up with snot.

"…Joseph?"

Leon became horribly afraid to turn around, he simply stared at Kenneth's mangled carcass, his heart racing as his breath became short. "Joseph…"

But shit he had to. Leon rose to his feet, and slowly turned. Oh Jesus Christ. He felt every bit of blood freeze in his veins, hishands becoming numb as they clasped his gun. A man stood before he and Joseph, a tall bald man, his silhouette shone against the moonlight from outside the window. But Leon could see him…see his face. White, milky eyes lined with blackish purple rings, a cold, pale face with skin that was shriveled up and twisted upon his skull. From his nostrils dried blood and torn flesh hung, his lips cracked and ripped open. No…he didn't have any lips, and he stared at them with a maniacal grin, his gums black and his teeth yellow. The rattling sound was the man breathing through his mouth as blood and mucus seeped between the cracks of his teeth with each and was sucked back up with every inhale. He turned to both of them, looking back and forth, his head loosely jostling with every turn he made as though his muscles were not quite attached. Then suddenly, he lunged at Leon.

Leon screamed as he felt the man's teeth sink into his shoulder, his cold wet body falling on top of him as he stumbled atop Leon. He bit at him, chewing and scraping against his shoulder blade. Shit he was trying to eat him! Leon frantically through his foot into the cannibal's knee, and it gave with surprising ease. The knee snapped with a sickening crunch, and the man fell to the floor, groaning and snorting furiously. He tried immediately to reach his meal, bony white hands grasping at Leon as he tried to stand. But suddenly a horribly loud blast from Joseph's shotgun and the man's head was splattered against the far wall in bits of brains, fluid, and bone.

Leon and Joseph stood silent, staring at the fallen corpse and each other. At length Joseph spoke, "Leon…was that a zombie?"

"What?" was all Leon could manage, his breath flustered as the pain surged in his shoulder.

"I think that was a zombie, Leon…" Joseph said as he pumped out the shell from his shotgun.

There was no longer any question about what it was. The thing could not have been human. At least not any longer. It was a zombie. But somehow it was worse. It was unlike any zombie Leon had ever seen in those cheesy films. And how did it get to be like a zombie. How could a zombie be real? Whatever it was, the stench was sure enough real. When Joseph had blasted the thing it was like he'd hit the core of that entire horrible, rotting pong. The smell burned the entire room, and the more Leon noticed it the more it seemed to grow.

"Shit, Leon. Sorry it took me so long. You both all got mixed up and…fuck man I didn't want to blast you. You all right?"

"Yea, I'll live. It's not that bad, I just need to maybe find a can of first aid spray and some bandages or something," Leon murmured as he stared at the bloody corpse upon the ground.

It was hideous, and now that Leon could see it more distinctly he felt even more nauseous. The skin upon what remained of its scalp was dried and cracked, peeling away to reveal a reddish brown stained skull beneath. Its clothes were tattered and torn open, stained with black and crimson, and its body lay contorted in an odd way that seemed nearly impossible.

"God dammit. Jill and Barry have the aid kits," it was apparent Joseph was furious with himself for not helping his friend sooner, "Let's try and find them or try and find a phone."

"Right. But while we're at it, I want to try and figure out what's going on here."

Joseph nodded and ushered towards the door that hid in the corner of the alcove, "Come on, let's go."

It was an odd thing, how Joseph worked. He was such a wimp for a police officer when it came to venturing into any place with any amount of danger. And yet, when one of his companions lies in the line of any such danger, Joseph becomes nearly one of the bravest. It was like it fueled him, and Leon wasn't entirely sure to take that as a positive or a negative trait. Nevertheless, Leon followed Joseph as he opened the door, only to reveal, if this is a shocker, more darkness. It was another long hallway that went straight forward then jutted off to the right. There were no lights, and only the moonbeams from the windows could light up their path. Against the opposite wall from the windows stood the shadows of leaves against moonlight, slowly wavering against the white wall.

Leon lingered down the dark hallway, his fingers upon his gun tense and littered with sweat. Through the windows he kept a constant watch, but he could only see forest. He and Joseph reached the wall that ended before the hallway turned right. They stood quietly in the shadows, listening to a strange noise. It was a squeaking ring, repeatedly sounding off. As though something was swinging. Leon looked at Joseph who shrugged passively, but his eyes remaining tense. Leon was about to spring out when he felt Joseph's hand grip his shoulder, and it made him jump.

"Leon, I wanted to tell you this earlier," Joseph said, looking around as though he was mustering up his words.

Leon gestured with his arms and said, "What?"

"Oh man, it's just that. I really don't think I shoulda worn this thermal underwear."

"Joseph…"

"I'm serious!" he hissed, "It's really hot under this vest and shit, and dude…it's starting to chafe-"

"Enough said."

"No seriously! Do you have like some spare underwear or something?"

Leon just gave him a look of annoyance before turning around the hallway to investigate the strange squeaking noise. Immediately he was met with a rather bright light that shown from an open room at the end of the hallway. The light from the room moved along the wall, back and forth back and forth in sync with the squeaking. It was the chandelier, something had recently jostled it and it now swung docilely from the ceiling. Leon entered the room and immediately noticed a mirror beside a birdcage upon a table.

Feathers lay strewn across the table, and a dead raven lay inside the birdcage. The wallpaper had changed, to a repulsive color of olive green and white vertical stripes. Dried bloodstains were sprayed across the wall, brown crusting stains. Leon suddenly gasped as his eyes settled upon yet another mangled body. It wasn't one of the S.T.A.R.S. members. The corpse lay crumpled against the wall with a massive blood spatter just above him, as though he had been violently thrown. Leon gulped as he stared at the figure; his head lay with a heavy gash across the forehead going through the matted, wet hair. His skin was dotted with black and green stains, dried and cracked similar to that of the zombie they had just seen. Zombie. Leon still couldn't quite cross over the fact of what he had just been attacked by. Joseph entered the room and immediately whipped the shotgun towards the body.

"Joseph don't!" Leon said, bringing a finger to his lips.

"I want to make sure each one of these fuckers are dead!" Joseph was focused completely upon the mangled body, his shoulders rising and falling with each heavy breath.

"Then do it another way, just without so much noise."

Immediately after Leon said that, Joseph grabbed a scrawny table upon which stood a cracked vase with dead flowers, and toppled it over. He broke off one of the thick legs and began to savagely beat in the body's head. Leon watched as what remained of the blood still inside slopped out in sticky masses upon the floor and Joseph's boots as he sunk the skull in with the heavy leg. It seemed so wrong, so disrespectful. Yet they had no real choice, they didn't know if the body would come back as…as a zombie.

Joseph finished his task and turned toward Leon, wiping drops of blood from his cheek. He looked past Leon, and Leon turned to follow his gaze. A stairway hid in the shadows, it led up towards what Leon thought to be a door. The two followed it up, and immediately Leon felt a cold draft as they reached the last step. A window above them against the far wall lay hung open, and outside they could hear faint howls rising and falling with the wind's cries. Leon shrugged it off and turned towards the door, looking briefly at Joseph before they opened it. For now it was best to keep calm and collected, and screw off the "procedure to properly gain access through a door". Enough of this kicking down doors bull shit.

The next room, to their liking, was well lit. It was a hot room, immediately they felt the warmth of hundreds of candles that lined the crusted, stained walls. The room gave off a strange orange glow that a room always does when filled with candles. It smelled strongly of thick must and smoke. Ahead of them was one door, yet another hall branched off from the one they were in, and bent left and around a corner so that they could not see what lay down that path. The hallway was tight, cramped. The air was stuffy and hot.

"Joseph, we should split up."

"Yea, agreed."

Leon was surprised that Joseph was willing to go along with his proposal. But he didn't question as he continued, "I'll take this door ahead, you go right and see what's down this hallway. I'll come back as soon as I can, that or you just head after me."

"All right, just be careful."

"You too."

The two separated, and Leon could feel the tension of security begin to strain under the pressure of them growing further apart. Leon walked to the door, hearing Joseph creep around the corner of the hallway. Then he turned, opened the door, and slipped inside.

Joseph took deep breaths of the hot air as he heard Leon close the door behind him. He slunk around the first turn in the hallway to see a mirror propped up against one wall, surrounded by various boxes and pottery. The mirror was positioned in such a way that he could easily see what lay down the hall as it turned. But shit, the mirror was cracked. So, quietly again he slipped and whipped around the corner. Nothing. Well, nothing of any threat. It was a long, narrow hallway. And a weird one. Littered with random paintings covered in white sheets, and statues of those creepy angel children with the curly hair and the fat faces. And then, along the walls, rows of golden spear shaped objects were lined on either side.

Joseph shrugged, screwed up place. He began to tread down the hallway, listening to every creak and groan the mansion made as he moved. He half expected the entire floor to fall through, but it held somehow. Another mirror sat in the corner at the end of the hall, which yet again turned off left. Keeping the butt of the shotgun locked in his shoulder, Joseph moved cautiously. Any zombies. Any at all. And he'd flip. He knew it, Leon knew it, and those zombies will know it. He reached the mirror and looked down the hallway that turned left, there was the end. A door dead ahead of him, a mirror propped up beside it, and another door to the right of the first. Goddamn, he needed a cigarette bad. Joseph's fingers twitched, and he began to head down the hallway, when he heard Leon open and close the door at the far end behind him.

He smiled. Thank god Leon was back. Enough of this splitting up shit, Joseph knew he shouldn't have agreed to it. Only another few minutes and he would have had to ask Leon for a clean pair of pants as well. What the hell? He'd heard the door close, and then nothing. The sweltering hallway was completely silent, where was Leon? The idiot was probably tying his shoe or making sure his wallet still was properly organized. Joseph cleared his throat and said, "Oh Leon?"

Suddenly a guttural snort was heard, and Joseph's heart nearly exploded. Not Leon. Then it came, like a roll of thunder or a drum roll. A barrage of pounding feet that beat against the floor as they tore down the hall. Joseph rose his shotgun and waited, listening as the thumps grew closer and closer, faster and faster. He heard the clinking of metal, of chains as they dragged across the floor beside the incessant pounding of feet. Then he saw it fly around the corner, and it saw him and roared. It wasn't human. It wasn't real. But it came flying towards him, coming towards him like a nightmare as it ran screaming. Joseph screamed desperately and blasted a shell out towards the demon. Her shoulder just twitched, barely even twitched back as an explosion of crimson and black erupted there. Her long, disfigured arms seized him by the shoulder as he tried to fire another shot, and Joseph felt his body being hurled into the air.

He howled in pain as he felt the back of his head, shoulders, and neck slam painfully against the mirror in the far corner. He smacked down upon the floor, and coughed in horror as the wind was knocked from him. His shotgun had left his hands; he was helpless as he scrambled to his knees. His hands went to the back of his head, to feel the blood swelling from beneath his bandana. He looked towards her, towards the monster and was frozen in fear.

She was licking her shoulder wound, a long greenish black tongue protruding from her sickly mouth coated in saliva. The tongue slithered and slopped across the open wound, a blackish crimson mush of tissue and muscle with bits of shattered bone, surrounded all by horrid wrinkled skin of black and brown. He listened to her whimpering groans beneath her long, black scraggly hair. Snap out of it. He had to wake the fuck up and get out now! Stumblingly away pitifully, Joseph scrambled to nearest door. Looking over his shoulder as his fingers tugged and twisted at the doorknob. Oh no no no, shit no! It was locked! Of all the fucking doors, this one had to be locked.

Joseph glanced over at the other door in the corner, and then over at the monster. She stared at him now, hunched over, fingers wriggling with anticipation and want. Slowly, she began to walk towards him. Joseph threw his body limply towards the door, his head dazed and spinning from the blood loss. Desperately crawling, he reached the door handle, turned it and stood as he pushed against it. Yes! It was open. He stepped out of the boiling hallway to see that he stood upon the balcony above the dining room that was just in. Joseph turned to close the door just as he heard her scream horribly, a cry of agony and lustrous rage. Joseph turned just to see the monster's contorted fingers grip his throat and dive with him over the railing of the balcony.

The two of them plummeted from the balcony, and Joseph gasped for air as he tried to scream. Then an abrupt and horrible pain smacked into his back as he collided with the edge of the table, hearing the monster land beside him. Her grip was loosened, and Joseph stumbled away free. Weapon, where the hell is a weapon? But his escape failed as he felt the chains dangling upon the monster's wrists smack into his temple, and he fell to the cold marble floor. For a moment all lay silent and spinning, and he was utterly alone.

Then slowly he surfaced to consciousness to feel the hot breath of the monster as she stared down at him. Her eyes. Her horrible eyes as they glared wildly at him, driven by hunger. Golden Yellow eyes, wreathed in black and a deep dark red, covered by her dark hair that slithered across his cheek. Joseph was hopeless; he could do nothing as he saw her reach for something. Oh shit no…no…but he watched as she revealed a long, thick rusted hook. She held it over his face for a moment, letting the feeling of utter horror seep into his body. And suddenly she drove it into his chest, just beneath his collarbone. Joseph screamed and choked as he felt the dry, rusted hook being driven up beneath his collarbone and out the back of his shoulder; the black steel scraping his shoulder blade.

The monster rose and lifted him up by the hook in his shoulder, grunting with pride. And she dragged him away, letting her prey scream and kick hopelessly as his collarbone was slowly bent and pried at in its sockets.

000

Chris' eyes sputtered, gradually coming to as he splashed through the blackish waters of his unconsciousness. He felt a cold hand upon his arm and he thrashed weakly, trying to get away.

"Chris, stop! Relax," came a light, and shaky voice.

Chris was taken aback. Where the hell was he? Oh Jesus his head hurt, it felt like it was full of lead. His entire body stung, for that matter, and he could barely breathe without having something twinge in pain. He was in a bed, his bed with the girl he met at the bar. No…no that was last night. Well he was in a bed, and he wanted to know who's and how drunk he'd gotten to forget about going home with some girl. Oh god…he hoped it was a girl.

"Chris? Can you see straight?"

Okay thank god, it was a girl. Wait no…that voice sounded familiar. Oh no…he didn't. Not with her. Chris' vision cleared, and it took him a moment to realize that he hadn't come home from any bar. He was in that mansion, in the room he had blacked out in. And the first thing his eyes trained on was the soft, young face of Rebecca Chambers, a look of relief in her smile.

"Yea…my eyes are a little bit off but I can see," Chris replied after several moments of looking around.

He was in some sort of drug room. Shelves stood against the wall of the cramped area filled with bottles of different sizes and shapes. He lay in a bed along side a desk, a lamp hanging over him and illuminating the rest of the room.

"I'm glad you finally came to," Rebecca said touching a damp cloth to his forehead, "You lost a lot of blood."

"What? What are you…oh yea…" he remembered the window, and looked down to see he had only his white t-shirt on.

The shirt was stained with blood, and he had heavy bandaging all up and down his arms and shoulders. A deep, stinging ache tugged at his shoulder, and he remembered the large splinter of wood that had gone through. Yet, oddly enough, despite his weakened state and the mild pain, he felt fine. It was incredible; he hardly felt any pain at all. Just very dizzy. He turned and grinned at Rebecca before saying, "Wow, I feel great, you really are a medical prodigy."

She blushed a little, and Chris was glad to see she held some emotion in her. However despite the little smile, Chris noticed something about her. Something that wasn't right. It was her eyes. They looked dark and lonesome. They looked afraid. They looked around nervously. They were no longer the eyes of a sweet, innocent girl that Chris had met just not too long ago. Something had poisoned those eyes. Something had disturbed her. She looked broken now, defeated and jaded.

"Rebecca," Chris said as he held a kind yet firm gaze into her eyes, "Tell me what happened."

Immediately she tore away from his stare, looking down at the floor as glossy tears swelled up around her eyes. She bit her lip as her gaze shifted around the room as though looking for something solid to cling to as everything else melted into her tears. Chris felt awful asking her, forcing it out of her; but he had no choice. He reached out and placed his hand on her shoulder.

"Rebecca," he whispered, "It's okay now. Nothing more will go wrong; I'm here to get you out, that's our specific order. Screw the mission, we're here to get you."

She looked at him, knowing it wasn't the truth, knowing he'd want to still venture deeper into whatever horrible secret this mansion hid. He could see it all in her solemn eyes. She wasn't naïve. She nodded and whimpered between her sniffles, "I know. I just…it's so horrible…"

Chris watched her with guilt as she put her hand to her mouth, trying to push down the tears as she breathed slowly. At last she was ready to speak, "The helicopter had to make an emergency landing because of some engine failure. I was thrown out in the crash, and so I was separated from the others. I began to search through the woods when, when I heard their screams and the guns shooting. I tried to follow the noise, but they were everywhere. That was when those dogs attacked me. They chased after me and I thought I was gone when suddenly Enrico and Forrest appeared out of nowhere. Forrest killed the dogs and we ran because they said there were monsters in the woods and we had to keep moving.

"We finally came here to the mansion at dawn, and inside the main door we met up with Richard and Kenneth. Richard was injured, and he had lost his radio, but told us he had managed to make a distress call in before. I patched him up as best I could. They said...they said that Dewey was dead; the dogs got him. But Enrico told us to keep the mission in our heads. So we split up then to try and find out all about what was going on. I stayed with Enrico because I had lost my gun and he wanted to keep an eye on me. So he and I, along with Richard, went into the west wing of the mansion. And…"

She trailed off, not crying, only silent. Chris looked at her, and saw her staring desperately at the ground, staring as though the memories were flooding into her mind. Memories she didn't want. He could see that even with him there beside her, Rebecca felt alone and defeated.

"Rebecca?"

"We were attacked. Enrico and I managed to get in here, but they dragged Richard off. We waited for his screams to stop, and we could hear them killing him. He screamed for over an hour, Chris. They didn't kill him for over an hour. Finally it all went silent, and Enrico said he would go and secure the area and make sure everything was all right. He never came back. And I waited in here, all day and all night until I finally decided that Enrico wasn't coming back. So I left to look for the others, and that's when I heard you come through the window. At first I hid, thinking it was one of them, but I saw you, and I saw the dogs. They didn't see me or smell me, and when they left I came in to help you. And that's where we are now…"

Chris watched Rebecca as she sat beside him on the bed, tucking her legs tightly against her chest and resting her chin on her knees as she slowly rocked back and forth. She was just a kid, just a girl. Damn, and she had seen all of this.

"Rebecca, I know this is hard, but I need you to tell me something. Who are the murderers?"

"What?" she looked shocked that he would ask that.There was a brief moment of silence before she finally spoke again, "You need to rest Chris. You should try and get some more sleep, I'll keep watch-"

"Rebecca tell me right now, who are they? Who took Richard away-"

"NO! They're not real, Chris! They're monsters! They're not real!" she screamed horribly, tears flooding into her eyes as she stood and backed away into the corner.

"Rebecca…just calm down-"

"They're not real! They took Richard away! I heard them! I heard them eating him! I heard him screaming before they tore him apart!"

She slumped into the corner, cupping her hands over her mouth as she stared blankly at Chris, remembering it again. He could see the pain, the anguish in her eyes as she thought of whatever stung at her. Chris slumped out of bed and stumbled to her, collapsing by her side. He put his hands on her shoulders and whispered, "Shh, relax Rebecca. Everything is going to be all right. But you have to tell me, are the murderers cultists? I need to find out all I can."

She could only shake her head.

"What then?"

Her response was muffled, weak, and it squeaked out of her as she said it. But Chris heard it, and he sighed as he knew he could ask of nothing more for now.

"Monsters…" she whimpered, "They're monsters…"

000

"Aw, poor Leon. All alone now aren't we? And you don't even realize it," came a mocking, cruel voice from the shadows.

The silver glow of the dozens of monitor screens about the small control room illuminated only his silhouette. The man sat in a large, cushioned swivel chair, his feet upon one of the desks of the tiny control room. He smirked coldly as he watched one of the screens, staring at the tiny figure of Leon Kennedy travel through the dark hall.

"Of course you wouldn't know, someone as green as you would never be alert as to hearing your own friend's screams as he died. You always were a rookie, and Wesker did such a job of placing you on S.T.A.R.S. What a fool that man was," the man took a swig of his brandy from the small silver flask he held, "And yet, I am impressed with how Joseph fell. The man was well trained. Despite his arrogance, he was somewhat aware of my plans and me…though not of me personally. So I am happy he went first. Yet, what surprises me more is how Lisa disposed of him. She was phenomenal, out of all the other subjects she has faired the best in the hunt, showing extreme prowess in all branches of her bloodlust. Of course, I haven't had a chance to release her mother yet, now have I?"

He watched Leon disappear around a corner and begin to walk up a flight of stairs. The motion switching cameras for that hallway remained fully aware of his presence, allowing the man to see him wherever he went.

"Oh yes, the mansion's eyes are mine, Leon; and I will dilute your sanity little by little until I have you crawling on all fours like a wretched dog," he cackled, his wild eyes staring at the screen.

Suddenly he turned, staring at another dark figure that lay crumpled against the far wall of the room. The figure was bound by rope, a massive gunshot wound in his right bicep. The man sneered as he stared at his victim, upset that the buffoon had worn a protective body vest to stop the other bullets from turning his heart into a bloody scarlet flower. Yet now that he thought of it, he was rather happy the man was alive. It was good; no no…it would be perfect. The man smiled and said deviously, "Well Barry, what do you think? It's your choice, which one of your friends should I kill first?"

Barry rose his head to gaze furiously at the man who grinned back. Yet his burly rage was contained by his weakness, and he could only glare quietly.

"Make a choice, Barry," the man's playful smile faded, "Make a choice or you know what will happen."

Barry stared maliciously, yet he said nothing. The man's smile again grew, only it was laced with a sick twist this time, and as he spoke his voice taunted Barry, "Can't you just picture it, Barry? A troop of elite soldiers inside your little home in suburbia, surrounding your beautiful wife and two daughters. All I have to do is make a quick call on my phone here if you refuse to bend to cooperation. And you know what happens then…"

Barry's eyes narrowed, his looked at the man with burning hatred and disgust. Yet the man continued to only smile back as he imitated the voice of a little girl, "Please officer no! No don't! Please no! Don't hurt me!"

The man suddenly jumped out of his chair, snatching the large radio and dropping it beside Barry's legs as he himself hopped down and squatted before the large man. He leaned close, right in Barry's face, and Barry could feel his hot, repulsive breath as he whispered with a chuckle, "Haha-I can hold the phone right up to your ear so you can listen. So you can listen as they beat your little girls…listen as they rape your wife. Would you want that to happen, Barry?"

Barry let his head drop, his breathing growing louder and louder as he tried not to explode with rage.

"I asked you a question, boy."

"No," Barry growled.

"I can't hear you…"

"I said no!"

"That's better," he said as he hopped to his feet, "So then, who will it be? Which one of your friends do you want to die first?"

Barry looked away from the man, his gaze lowering to the monitor screens. He couldn't choose, Jesus he couldn't do it. The sweat dribbled down his face; his temples pulsated from the searing pain in his arm, and the tormenting hatred that brewed in his mind. Hatred for himself. It stabbed at him, prodding at his gut, but he knew whom he wanted to pick. Maybe his victim would forgive Barry, maybe he would understand. He nodded towards the monitor screen.

"Him," he said shakily, swallowing the lurch to cry.

The man turned his head back to the screen, then around again at Barry. He got real close this time, so close his nose just barely touched Barry's, his eyes glaring wild with a manic frenzy in them, "Say it, Barry. Say his name. I want you to say his name, his full name. Realize whom you're killing here. Realize who's going to die because of your decision."

Barry's bottom lip trembled, his head quaked under the pressure, and he couldn't breathe. But he thought of his family, he had to think of them and how much he loved them. What he would do for them, it was his vow as a husband and a father. He opened his dry mouth; his lips chapped from dehydration, and shook in agony as he whispered, "Leon Scott Kennedy."

The man pressed a single button in the midst of the other hundreds, and grinned as he said, "So be it."