Hello again! Well, here's part 2, although I'm not too sure people want to read this anymore, but you know, that's okay, even if no one reviews I'll keep writing, because I like this little brainchild of mine. But if you DO read this, then please review and give me some tips as to how I can make this story better.

(A/N: Well, I'm a freaking moron, I messed up the timeline for the story, so I''m gonna be revisingchapters 9 -15minimally to fit the storyline. Sorry for the inconvenience.)

Full Part 2 summary: Isaac's paranoia is his only way to survive the events of Raccoon City those fateful nights in late September, when the city becomes a real-life necropolis. Death hangs in the air, and people are dying left and right. Slowly, Isaac realizes that not only are his friends dying, his faith in other people are dying with them. Soon, he comes to the point where his humanity is so buried by tragedy and death he becomes uncaring for other people's lives. Faced with an enemy that won't stop until he is dead, he must live through the nightmare.

Disclaimer: I WISH I owned Resident Evil, but I don't, I only own Isaac.

(Chapter 9)

(September 27th, 11:00 PM 1998.)

(2 days, 5 hours, 32 minutes, 5 seconds)

"RUN, ISAAC! RUN!" I heard Bill scream at me. I watched as three injured officers fell to the floor, their wounds getting the better of them. I watched frozen in horror as they began to rise again, slowly and surely coming back to life. Bill suddenly appeared in my line of vision, holding a gun to me. "TAKE THIS AND GO!" He yelled. I finally snapped out of my horrified trance and grabbed the handgun he held out to me. I bolted down the hall, heading for the main stairs.

I didn't even bother looking back to see if Bill was okay. All I heard were gunshots and the sounds of screaming, but thankfully it wasn't Bill's scream. I ran down the stairs and turned to the left, running down the hallway leading to the exit. I kept running until I felt my foot catch something, sending me sprawling to the ground. I looked back and saw one of the officers, dead and lying on the ground. His face was that of frozen pain, and half of his body was torn off, eaten by the zombies that used to be the remaining survivors of this city. His hand was outstretched in my direction, as if pleading for someone to help him.

Gasping for air I got up, running for the exit once again. Hands crashed through the windows of the interrogation room, the moans of the undead filling my ears. I dove under the hands, rolling and getting back to my feet. I was getting tired out already. Suddenly I saw it. The open locker room door. Then a shotgun blast was heard down the hallway connected to the hallway I was running down, the hallway leading to the emergency exit.

I couldn't escape through there. Two members of the police in SWAT team uniforms were losing against the zombies trying to enter through the fire exit. I decided that hiding out in the locker room was the best course of action right now. I pumped my legs harder and faster, closing in on the locker room. I ran in and closed the door, barricading it with whatever was handy, which were the lockers. I grunted as I pushed a section of lockers in front of the door, the metal boxes moving about only a foot every two minutes. Slowly but surely the lockers slid into place in front of the door, the heavy things ensuring that I would be safe, at least for a while.

I collapsed onto one of the lockers, breathing extremely heavily. What had happened? The rescue mission had failed, obviously. It happened earlier tonight. Just before sunset what was left of the police force fought to save the survivors left, but they had been overwhelmed and were forced to retreat.

I finally regained my bearings and popped the magazine from the gun. I checked the small container for the number of bullets only to find the clip empty. I pulled back the slider and found one bullet in the barrel, ready to be fired. He wasn't serious was he? He really wanted me to kill myself? To quit life? I stared at the small firearm for a long moment and thought about it.

'It would save me from a world of pain from being eaten by zombies...I can't...I can't quit life...that's for sissies...suicide is for the weak...' I mentally argued with myself. The gun slowly rose to my temple, and sweat began to cascade from my forehead. As if by it's own accord my index finger curled itself around the trigger lightly. Before I could fire the gun a loud banging was heard from outside, startling me into dropping the gun. Moaning could be heard from the other side of the sealed door, and the door rattled menacingly. Terrified, I scurried away from the door, eyes wide. Soon the banging and rattling tapered off when whatever was outside knew they couldn't get in.

"I...won't...die...I won't allow it! I'll survive and get Umbrella for this!" I said vehemently to myself as I got up. I began to try and open up the bland, grey lockers. Most were locked, and I didn't know the combination of the officers. I went down a row of lockers, and all were locked so far. I made it to the last locker and found it unlocked, and I found it to be one of the most untidy lockers in existence. I inspected the locker up and down, trying to find anything that would help me when suddenly I noticed a box on the top compartment. I reached up and grabbed it, finding it to be a box of handgun bullets. I grabbed the bullets and stuffed them into my right jean pocket, throwing away the box itself.

Then at the back I noticed that there was a back panel that wasn't part of the locker. I reached back and pulled off the panel, finding it to be a window into the next locker. I reached in and felt around when in a stroke of luck I felt something cold, and metallic. I curled my fingers around it and pulled it up, finding another gun.

"Holy shit, is this MY lucky day or what?" I exclaimed. Suddenly the bang noise returned with gusto as I spoke too loudly. I looked around the room, then finally up at the ceiling, and I found it. Directly above the benches was an opened vent big enough for me to fit into. I wasn't that big in width anyway.

Thanking whoever was watching my back for me, I began to search the locker room for anything that might help me get out of here. At the back of the room there was a large pail and mop, the pail itself filled with water. I grabbed the pail and turned it over, pouring the water out of it. I walked briskly back to the bench underneath the open vent and placed the pail upside down on top of the bench. I got up on the bench, ignoring the pounding of the door. I carefully stepped onto the pail with my right foot, the pail strong enough to support my weight. I reached up, feeling the metal vents.

I hopped up a little, catching the bend with my hand and pulling myself up into the vent. 'Jiu Jitsu and Tae Kwon Do really help your strength.' I said in admiration of my strength. I began to crawl, army-style through the vents, heading for an escape.

Thankfully the venting system was open-air, so there were vent grates EVERYWHERE, making it easier for me to see. I turned right, and by looking through the grates, I saw that I was above the break room. I ignored the screams of the survivors as they died painful, mangled deaths and crawled on through. Soon the vents got bigger, allowing me a little more leeway. I got up on my hands and knees and remained still for a moment. I could hear one of the auxiliary fans, and I could feel cool night air blowing lightly past my face. Yes, I was heading the right way!

I was heading for the arterial vent that connected the precinct to the business building next door. The venting system linked these two buildings together! I began to crawl forward with renewed energy, reaching a fork. One vent led to the right while the other led to the left. There were no grates around to tell me where I was so I went with my hunches. I began to crawl into the vent on the right, and after fifteen seconds of non-stop crawling I found that my path now led up or down and the vents were getting smaller again. Shit.

"Fucking vents!" I cursed quietly. I crawled to the edge and turned myself onto my back. I began to pull myself forward and then up, just enough for me to stand. I then placed my feet square on the sides of the vent and pressed hard against them as I lowered myself down enough for me to pull myself back into the previous vent.

I backtracked all the way to the fork, going into the vent on the left, the vents getting larger again. Finally the vents were large enough for me to crouch low in. I continued on my way until I found the auxiliary fan, the large blades spinning quick, quickly enough that if I tried to go through it'd chop me up like an onion. Then I had another idea. I sat down and began to untie my leather shoe. I took it off and held it in my hand cautiously.

I moved close to the fan blades, resting my shoe near the middle of the metal bars that held the fan together, and suddenly the shoe was lodged in between the blade and the metal bars, stopping the fan from spinning. I quickly crawled through and got my shoe out from in between the blades. I put my shoe back on and went on my way.

Hopefully through here I can get out and steal a car to escape. I turned right and saw an opened vent again. I crawled toward it and peeked my head through to see if the coast was clear for me to drop down. I looked right and saw two zombies standing idly, while a single zombie stood down the hall on the left. I took out my gun and got ready to kill my first zombie. I reminded myself that I had to shoot them in the head to kill them, thanks to Chris' files and first hand knowledge.

I took out the gun with more bullets, the one I found in the locker and held it in my hands. I leaned my head onto my right arm, staring down the barrel of the gun. I lined up the sight with the zombie's head, curling my index finger around the trigger. I pulled my finger back, and an explosion slammed my ears. The recoil vibrated through my entire body shaking me to the core. The zombie's head snapped back, a small bloody hole the only evidence of a bullet being shot into its head.

I took a second to register what I had done, and to realize that I never wanted the feeling of security and survival to leave my hands. I pointed the gun at the next closest zombie head and fired, not even bothering to register whether or no it was dead or not before pointing it at the last zombie. I pulled the trigger, and the monster dropped, unmoving. I then got myself down from the vent, brushing off the dirt and grime from my clothes. I slipped the almost empty gun from my pocket and slipped the empty clip out from the handle. I took out some bullets and began to reload the clip; bullet by bullet until it was full again while evening out my breathing. I put the safety back on and slipped it into my jean pocket, holding my other gun in my hand as I began to run down the hall.

I turned a corner, and as I did, two pairs of zombie hands crashed through a window, trying to grab at me. I dove under them, continuing my sprint towards freedom. Suddenly hands grabbed my shoulders. I reacted quickly, bringing my elbow up and slamming it into a nose, feeling fresh, warm blood spew onto it. I grabbed the hand on my shoulder and twisted it, releasing its grip on me. I twisted as I flipped my assaulter onto his back. I held onto the arm as I pressed the ball of my foot into my assailant's neck as my left hand pointed a gun at his head.

"Don't shoot!"

(End Chapter 9)

WAAAHOOO! Finally the gore (well, not really, but oh well) and action begins! And I'll have to apologize for the crappy epilogue last chapter, I just didn't want to waste time explaining all that had been happening since the events of RE1 and stuff, I hope you'll forgive me! Anyway! Read and Review please!