Norman Steve: Thanks man, though I'm not sure what genre this is anymore.
Hotaru: Obviously from the noisiest villain in movie history. I just wanted Uma to kill him and be done with it.
Tonya: Thanks. The sequel thing was in my other comp, which unfortunately, I don't know where is right now, I think my dad gave it away or something.
Samurai: Yeah, and apparently, you didn't read my previous comment. Oh, and redundancy in a statement makes it all the less glaring, so next time (if you) you review, do be more constructive.
Evil: Single-mindedly driven aren't you? Here's a touch-up. Chris is contradicting himself. That means he is lying. And according to basic value class, that makes him fundamentally bad. That makes him fodder for a horrendous fate that should come by the end of the story. We are not yet at the end of the story. That being so, his fate is not yet to be delivered. Now, unless you're twelve, you should realize that not all good guys make it, and more often than not, the undeserving get to go up the corporate ladders. Chris being an example. Okay? Also, suspects that are caught, but need intensive medical help, are at first confined in a hospital before they are tried at court. At least, in civilized society, that's what they do. Side note, I didn't make Chris stronger, I just gave him an as of yet unrevealed advantage. The commissioner pointed out that if Leon really was inebriated, then he couldn't function 100, meaning Chris really could incapacitate him if he wanted to (crippling blows), and thus make Chris' claim of self-defense all the more believable. Since this isn't the case, then the commissioner is looking at foul play, not self-defense.
Clinton: Looks like you got me. When I make up a story, I think of a beginning and an end right off the bat, and its up to inspiration to put in stuff between points A and B. I just got inspired. And thanks for the review of Remember Heaven. Appreciated it.Author's note: Yes, this chapter would probably leave more questions unanswered. Also, I'm really sorry to anyone who was interested in this fic for the extremely long delay. College life is hectic, especially for guys like me who don't regard writing as their number one hobby.
Recap: Leon and Chris fight, leaving the former dead and the latter gravely wounded. Claire, after an interrogation, and an escort back to her apartment, snaps and fatally wounds officer Kevin Ryman, and then disappears. Chris and the commissioner finally talk, but all that remains are more unanswered questions, but this time, the commissioner suspects that Chris was more than willing to kill off his old friend, Leon.
Chapter 6: "Surge"
"…What is it? What's wrong?" Leon could always feel Claire, an intrinsic connection between two hearts deeply connected. She didn't have to say a word, and he did not have to hear a thing. All he needed to do was feel. And he felt something wrong. It was six in the evening, and he had just got back to find Claire waiting, standing by the dining table. She was clad in red, vibrant and beautiful, but it seemed to be the only color on her entirety. "Leon…I have…something to confess…" she mumbled, unable to look her lover in the eye. "…" Leon took off his coat and rushed to her side. "Maybe…maybe you should drink first…" she offered, pushing a glass of water on the table towards him. "…Claire…" Leon did not care for a glass of water, but if she asked of it, then he would do it. Love was enough to strip him of his instinct, and as history has always shown, those foolishly bound by love are always those most vulnerable to despair.
Claire held her breath as she slunk to the shadows, waiting for the red flashes of another patrol car to pass. "…" Glimpses of a life behind bars flashed to her mind along the wailing of the siren, teasing her of the future she would face if she ever got caught. Her breath precipitated in the cold, night air, a long gasp of soulless breath before she once again resumed her trek back to the heart of the city where her brother was being held. "…" As the patrol cars passed, she crept out of hiding and stood at the corner of the street, clutching her stomach as she did. She gazed at the street, lit an eerie orange thanks to the bright streetlights, where she could only imagine a memory of the past.
Leon tore through the thankfully empty street in his Mazda, not caring to slow or stop for any reason. He felt his gun tempting him from his belt, screaming at him to deliver justice to his beloved's brother. Something felt wrong deep within him, like his intestines churning, his eyes glazing suddenly and then becoming perfectly fine again, but then, he did not care. All he could care about was the truth, and what it would entail. Claire's face flashed in his mind, and all manner of love and hate rushed into his confused heart.
Chris stared at the ceiling, his body still barely mobile from the fight that he and Leon had. He could still feel the stitched wounds all over his torso burn, a feeling he forgot to handle since the time he was snared by a life of luxury. "…Claire…" he mumbled in the darkness, his eyes closing and his body reliving lost warmth. "…I miss you." he then uttered, imagining his sister lay beside him. "What could you be up to now?" he asked, half-expecting some mystic bond to force her voice into the dead air. "Were you the one who sent Leon to kill me?"
"…No. No…just…no…" Leon's voice faltered as he faced Chris, his mind racing for perfectly logical ways to say that all this is a lie. "Now you know. Get out of here, Leon, I still have work to do." Chris hissed, his hands on his waist, before turning around and heading back for his office desk. "…No…no!" Leon took out his gun amidst his cries through gritted teeth, and trained it at the older man's head. "Fucking liar! Fucking, sick, son of a bitch!"
The commissioner strode through the hall, an air of dread hung around him, like the edge of a secret that could not yet be unraveled, yet one that he was desperate to figure out. "Sir…" a thin man with the breath of cigarette butts stopped him in his tracks. "…Yes, John?" the commissioner asked, even though his eyes were at the young sergeant, it would seem to the more thoughtful that every other sense of his being was directed elsewhere. "Officer Ryman's…Kevin's car has been found…C.S.I. is over there now looking for any trace that Claire could have left behind." He explained, trying as best as he could not to show how much losing a member affected the force when they still needed work to do. "…And Kevin?" The commissioner asked. "Aya's with him." John responded, prompting the commissioner to nod in response. "Tell everyone to keep looking for Claire. If she resists arrest, then you can use whatever means necessary to subdue her." The commissioner then stated, before leaving the sergeant to give word.
"Sir…" Jessica stood up from her small desk as she saw the man she admired the most come into view.
"Did you get it?" asked the commissioner, his hand extended, as if it knew what the answer was.
"It's here." She responded, getting a small folder from beneath an envelope on her desk.
"Very good." He quickly grabbed the folder and pushed open the door to his office. "…Jessica." He stopped right before stepping into his office.
"Yes, sir?" she was still standing; she always waited for him to close the door before she sat down herself, a sign of courtesy to her superior.
"You make my life so much easier. Thank you." He said, in a voice soft and gentle, defiance to the hardened character that so many view him as.
"…Just doing my job, sir." She smiled, her spirit rising at the utterance of words so simple. "Oh, and tell everyone who wants to see me for the next fifteen minutes to stay away." He then added.
"Yes, sir."
The commissioner smiled and bowed his head for a second, before turning back to the matter at hand.
His private office was a dead cavern compared to the desks bustling with noise just outside. It was the way he wanted it, no excess or needlessness, just a small corner of the world where he could despise the burden of wisdom and experience and old age. He hung his coat on a hanger right by the door where he left his hat earlier that morning. All air left the commissioner's body by his second step, with his proud posture giving way to a slouching old man tired of a long day's horror. He fell on his leather seat, his elbows bracing themselves on his cold, wooden desk. After half a minute of silent rest, he opened the folder, in it the outgoing calls that Chris Redfield has made in the past month, and up to the point of his fateful encounter with Leon.
"…Fancy that…" whispered the commissioner in his mind, as he saw two phone numbers that he knew by heart, repeatedly contacted by the end of the list. "…Chris…what were you doing?"
Claire stomped her foot on the ground, signaling that her patience was getting thinner. "What are you doing? Answer me!" she yelled, marching towards her brother and pulling away the clothes that he just put in his luggage. "I told you…I'm burned out." He simply responded, avoiding the flare in his sister's eye. "You're leaving me? Again?" she rushed in front of him and covered the closet that Chris was clearing out. "Get out of the way." He ordered, his voice unlike that of the sweet and caring brother that everyone thought of him as, but in a low, menacing growl that could have swayed any one else's spirit. But Claire was just as hard as her brother, and she did not find in her and urge to budge.
A soft drizzle began to hit the taxi's windows, condensing and reflecting the city lights into hazy beauty. Whereas newcomers to the land would always take a second or more to hold their breath and sit in awe at the beauty of industry, those who have seen past its bright lights and majestic skylines have always found no reason to look twice. Claire sat still, her eyes fixed on the road in front, with the taxi driver just as silent as she was. "…Are you sure, miss? Pio Del Pilar isn't exactly the friendliest neighborhood come night…" he then mentioned, the third time by the fifteen minute drive. "…I'll be fine." Claire responded, her eyes connecting with the driver's through the rearview mirror. "I know who sleeps there…and he will pay…" she vowed to herself, as the lights from outside grew dimmer and less frequent. "I will show him how much I still love him…"Claire began to run a hand slowly down her body, feeling the pain that has almost subsided, but reliving the moment in her mind nonetheless.
With a deep growl, Chris pulled his sister down and squatted over her, thundering her with blows to her torso. Claire desperately covered herself, scratching at him at any window of opportunity, but her condition at that moment in time made her all the more weak. All the more susceptible to Chris' blows. After what could have been an eternity of searing pain, Claire finally gave in, and screamed for him to stop. Chris' hand halted right before it could connect to her face, and a familiar warmth of superiority began to come over him once again. He smiled.
"Miss?" the taxi driver couldn't help notice the woman in the back seat close her eyes in thoughts that he could only imagine. Watching the road became all the more difficult, as he looked back to find Claire touching herself, almost as if the she was oblivious of the presence of the middle-aged man just a foot in front of her. With a soft sigh, Claire opened her eyes, fierce, fiery orbs that locked into the eyes of the driver. "Faster."
"What are you hiding?" the middle-aged woman asked softly, her arms crossed in front of her chest, almost as if they were looking to each other for any semblance of warmth. The body in question was stitched to a close, from clavicle to navel, while the entry wounds from the bullets left dark circles on his once perfect skin. No one should see him like this.
"Everything you need to know has already been sent to the evidence lab, ma'am." Mentioned an old man in a lab coat. "I'm sure you have enough clearance to investigate further." He continued.
"Yes. I just wanted to see him one more time." She responded, her eyes lingering on Leon's dead face, half-expecting it to suddenly open its eyes and begin to move. "…" The woman took off the sunglasses that she used to keep her short brown hair back, and wore it over her eyes. She did not want the old man to notice the tears that were beginning to form. "Put him back in." she then told the old man, who quickly followed his order.
"…?" as she turned to leave, her mobile phone rang, just monotonous beeping deprived of any personality. She gave the mortician one last glance before getting the phone from her handbag and exiting the room, answering it as she did.
"Hello?"
"So you really are in town." Answered an old man's voice, imperative but still refined.
"…Who is this?"
"I'm police commissioner Harvey Bullock. We need to talk."
"…This is about Chris, isn't it?"
"It sure is."
"I don't recall giving you my number."
"Well, you didn't. It's just listed here in Chris Redfield's phone bill."
"That's invasion of privacy, commissioner."
"And you haven't done naughtier things in your lifetime?"
"…" the woman smiled, once again beginning to feel the rush of urgency, a feeling that she sorely missed, and perennially desired. "I'll fill you in on the details when we meet." He then added, by which time the woman was already at the door to her silver Cadillac. It was parked by the side of the street, along a few other cars whose owners worked at night.
"There is no point in playing hard to get, is there?" she asked, impressed by the confidence the commissioner was showing.
"If anyone asks, I'll tell them I went through hell and high water to make you say yes."
"…Tomorrow at Caesar's. Ask for a Ms. Wonder Woman." She responded, already boarding her vehicle.
"Will do." And with that, the commissioner turned his phone off.
Jill Valentine turned off her mobile and put it back in her purse, preparing herself for the incoming storm. A surge of every emotion came back to her as memories of happier times were relived in her mind. "All dead." she thought, as she turned the engine on and headed back to her hotel. "Chris…here comes the endgame."
Author's note: Next chapter, Jill and Chris meet, but it will definitely not be a happy reunion for one of them. Also Chris' secret will be revealed, much to the horror of all societal norms. (Yeah, getting Jill in was a cheap way to solicit an interesting story, I know)