Um...hey. Here's the next installment of my extremely drawn out fanfiction. Careful, in my opinion I've put a LOT of angst into this chapter, especially the end. I hope you enjoy it.
I like this chapter. I feel like Isaac is becoming more and more humanized here. I realized that the earlier chapters were written as if Isaac had an epiphany. I didn't really know at the time, I just wrote what felt right. Isaac is a human. He's not very stable either. There's a few things he cannot stand, and you'll see them later. Also, he cares deeply for his friends, which balances his callousness towards the already fallen victims of the T-Virus out. Hope you can all forgive me for making Isaac a rather two dimensional character.
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 17)
(September 29th, 7:25 PM 1998.)
(1 days, 5 hours, 35 minutes, 16 seconds)
"Wake up child...wake up boy..." I heard a woman's voice call me. I opened my eyes to see darkness. Silhouettes danced around me as I lay on my back, unable to move. Finally one of the silhouettes stopped, a small object in it's hand gleaming with ethereal crimson light. I felt terror as I began to hear maniacal laughter, flooding my ears and deafening me. I clenched my eyes shut then opened them, hoping to end this odd nightmare.
"What is this? What are you doing to me?" I heard myself say. Suddenly a large mouth appeared, curling into a disgusting grin dripping with dark flames, and a soft voice could be heard underneath the crazed laughter. I strained my overwhelmed ears to hear the soft feminine voice, almost like a shot of morphine to my body.
"You'll become something better...something...perfect..." The voice whispered, the laughing suddenly stopping. I felt an invisible hand softly trace my lips, my heart's rapid beating lowering to a soft tap of metaphorical drums. I felt a hand brace itself on my shoulder, pressing me down onto the invisble floor I was lying on, and soft lips brushed against mine. My heart stopped for an instant as my invisible seductress pressed their lips more fully against mine. My mind was swamped with emotions, the euphoria spreading through my body leaving my nerves cold and dead.
In a split second all of that was pulled away as I felt something sharp pierce my neck, breaking into my jugular vein. The blackness shattered away in a magnificent shower of shards, replaced by white light that blinded me, burning my eyes. My body began to burn all the way to my toes, leaving me screaming and shivering in agony, fearing the onset of more and more pain should I try to move.
I shrieked as I was thrown from my dream, my eyes wide open as I felt cold sweat bead off of my forehead. I began to hyperventilate as I tried my best to calm down. I looked around the room, a fresh wave of paranoia wracking my unstable psyche. I felt like I was tearing apart at the seams, the entire situation finally getting to me and driving me to the brink of insanity. I shivered profusely as I weakly got to my feet, my trembling hand gripping my handgun with the utmost cautiousness. It was time to go.
I opened the door to the warehouse's main area, seeing nothing that had changed. All zombies dead and accounted for. I hastily walked down the stairs, then began running for the back door once my foot hit concrete. Hopefully that trench coated thing hadn't found out where I was yet. That's unecessary trouble. I emerged into the cold autumn night, looking around for any danger. Nothing. The streets were more or less deserted. I gripped my handgun with both hands, as I was trained to do at the police department and began to run in the opposite direction of the hospital, clock tower, and museum, knowing that the mentioned locations were unsafe for now.
I strained my ears for anything hostile nearby, and over the quiet groans of distant zombies I could almost make out a roaring noise, like an engine or something. Then it began to get louder. I dashed down the street, holding my gun tightly as I did. I turned right on the corner of Bayliss and Raven's Gate Way and spotted a bright, single light coming down the street towards me. I jumped up and down, waving to the light, screaming out to high heaven for help. As the light got closer, it was revealed to be a motorcycle with a helmetless, ponytailed girl on it. She looked at me with perplexed eyes which I returned.
I know this girl from somewhere...but where?
"You okay?" She asked over the roar of her bike's engine. I shook my head.
"Do you mind giving me a lift?" I asked. She looked even more perplexed now. Who could blame her? A short guy she doesn't even know stops her while on her motorcycle and asks for a ride. Who WOULDN'T think that was weird? She looked like she was thinking it over, and during that time I began to notice her more "womanly" traits. She had nice hair which wasn't scraggly or greasy looking, and her face was clear of any imperfections, pimples, freckles, et cetera, and she actually looked stylish and fitting on that motorized, two wheeled contraption. She wore a padded vest over her black tee, and her shorts were coloured to match as well. She was rather pretty, and I kept getting this feeling that I knew her from somewhere.
"Where you headed?" She asked suddenly. I was suddenly devoid of ideas. Where would I go? The PD was my first instinct. I had to see if Bill and Marv were okay. Maybe even see for myself if Brad was dead.
"The Police Department. I have business to take care of over there..." I answered.
"Why are you carrying guns?" She asked a little more cautiously. I looked at my shotgun, then my handgun and looked around more cautiously.
"I'm being chased. I don't know what it is I'm running from, or even why for that matter, but I can get the police to help me out." I lied. The police could do jack shit against whatever the hell was chasing me. The best thing I could think of was hiding out. She thought about it some more and then shrugged and nodded.
"That's where I'm headed too. Hop on." She told me. I thanked her and climbed on behind her, holstering my gun and wrapping my arms around her waist. "Hold on tight, okay?" She said over the engine. I didn't get what she meant before she turned the throttle quick and we sped off. I tightened my grip on the girl instinctively, startled by the sudden burst of speed. I didn't pay any attention to the road, but the mechanics of working this machine. If need be, I'll steal the damn thing and try my hardest to get the fuck out of here. We turned right then she began to slow down, and I realized that we were getting close to where I lived. Oh well, my building is probably overrun by now.
We came to a stop in front of a dingy diner, and I asked her a question in utter confusion. "Why are we stopping?" I asked, trying to keep my tone casual and not worried. She smiled as she got off the bike after putting up the kick stand, then began to walk to the door of the diner. I got off the bike as well, hand hovering close to my handgun. We entered the diner, the door disturbing the bell and ringing it. I jumped at the high pitched sound, then turned back to the ponytailed brunette. I sniffed the air inside, and my nose scrunched up at the stench of spilled blood and rotting flesh. I quietly slipped my gun from my pocket, holding it tight.
"Excuse me, is this place still open?" The brown haired girl asked someone. I turned to where she was talking and saw a large bald man kneeling down with his back to us, a pool of blood in front of him. I quickly pointed my gun at the man's head, but hesitated firing. This chick would think I was crazy killing someone she didn't know was dead. I had to make her see what this thing really was. It was for her own safety.
"You! Stand up! Come on, get up!" I yelled at the zombie. It didn't move. The brunette looked at me, then the gun and began to yell.
"What the fuck are you doing? Put the gun down!" She yelled. That seemed to get it's attention, the bald man turning his head and looking at us with it's dead, milky white eyes. It's mouth was dripping red with blood, and it's mouth hung open dumbly. It turned more fully towards us and I gestured for the biker girl to look at the man. In it's hands was the half eaten head of someone, possibly a woman, her face frozen in a scream. The girl trembled at the sight as the zombie dropped the head and began to walk towards us. I moved in front of the girl, my eyes losing their gleam as I pulled the trigger, the explosion startling the brunette while I stared at the zombie while it dropped to the floor with a bloody hole in it's forehead.
I turned my head towards the door, seeing three zombies already there, pressing at the door to get in. I cursed out loud, then turned to the biker. I looked past her and saw the emergency exit. I reached into my messenger bag, grabbing my other handgun and holding it out to her. "Here." I said to her. She looked at the gun, then at me, then took it. I then reached into my bag again and handed her one of the full magazines I had found in the museum. She took that too. "Hand me your motorcycle keys." I told her, holding my hand open. She looked scared for a moment. "Don't worry. Go out that exit, turn right, and when you get to the street, turn left. Go past five intersections, then turn left again. After that, you'll find yourself near the PD. Hurry!" I assured the girl. I knew exactly how to get to the PD because it was the same path I used to get to work on foot. Hopefully this girl could survive. She looked at the exit, then nodded, tossing me the keys. "I promise, I'll meet you there." I assured. She nodded, then ran, bursting through the door.
I turned to the front door and fired three shots perfectly into the heads of the undead citizens, then burst through the door running to the motorcycle. Okay, from what I saw, the bike had automatic transmission, so that was a load off of my mind. I threw my leg over the seat and straddled the machine, kicking back the kickstand and keeping the heavy machine up with my body. I then inserted the key into the transmission and turned it, the engine roaring to life. I turned the throttle lightly, the bike moving forward, and once I got the hang of it, I turned the throttle more and turned, heading back where the brunette and I came from. I began to speed up even more and turned at the intersection, heading to the Clock Tower. I began to like the feeling of being on a motorcycle, the feel of the wind blowing past your hair. It felt cool, it felt powerful. I passed more streets, and then found myself staring at the huge wreckage that was the truck Brent and I were in when the armored van and the oil tanker hit us.
Putting the memories to the back of my mind, I turned left and barrelled down the street, making sure to pass the hospital and then turned right, then hung another right, coming to a stop in front of the Clock tower. Hopefully that medicine I gave Jill was working. Put the kickstand back down and turned off the engine for now, running into the stone building to find Jill and see if she was okay. I threw open the doors, seeing Carlos sleeping on one of the pews inside the altar, Jill herself still lying on the altar, shivering in pain. I looked over at Carlos, and realized why he was asleep. He had a large bite on his neck, and he was sweating profusely. I stood over the man and opened his mouth, the man not roused at all from his pained slumber. I pulled out the bottle of medicinal pills and grabbed one of the red lined pills, dropping one on his tongue. I then closed his mouth and massaged his throat just as I had done with Jill, the Hispanic man gulping down the pill. I then watched as the teeth marks on his neck began to slowly mend, leaving small scars in their wake. His pained expression left his face, but he still slept.
I then moved to the blue and black clad woman I knew so well, seeing her shiver in agony. I checked her pulse, relieved to find it still so strong. I then grabbed the last few grey red lined pills and leaned over her. Suddenly her eyes opened, her hazel eyes staring at me in wonderment.
"Isaac? Is that you?" She asked hoarsely. I looked down at her and nodded.
"Thank goodness you're still okay. I don't have much time. Here." I took out all the other pills in the bottle and put the grey ones, red-lined or otherwise inside, stuffing the rest into the pouch in my messenger bag. I handed her the bottle, looking straight at her. "Take the red-lined pill every eight hours, and take the non-lined pills every four. They'll help." I instructed. She nodded and lied back down the the altar, resting. I then pulled out the small piece of paper from the guy in the museum, opening it up. My attention was caught by my picture on it, and all my vital information. I began to read the paper curious.
Umbrella Corp International.
Classified, Level 6 Authorization.
Target: Isaac Seth Brown/Montana
Age: 18 as of July 13, 1998.
Hair colour: Red
Height: 5 feet, seven inches.
Eyes: Deep Green.
Occupation: Former Civil Servant Stationed at Raccoon City Police Department, now unemployed.
Mission Objective: Termination.
Mission Overview: Mr. Brown has become a rather annoying asset to the investigation of our company conducted by Christopher Redfield, age 25. The mission will be conducted by Agent Brent Englishman during the accidental outbreak in Raccoon City. The objective will be to acquire his computer files with all the evidence possibly collected by Redfield for inspection and later termination should our search find something conclusive. As for Brown himself, he is of no use intellectually or physically and should be terminated the very moment his file disks are acquired.
Should Englishman fail the mission and Lt. Nicholai Genovev contacts HQ, Brown will be considered a minimal to moderate threat and greater measures will be taken to assure the young man's death.
I stared at the paper in shock. So that's why Brent was trying to kill me. He was working for Umbrella all this time. Not much use he was in the end. He was killed by that thing. That thing must have been the "greater measures" the paper was talking about. Well, at least I was able to warrant a more dignified label than "of no use intellectually or physically," that was just unfair. I shook my head and turned the paper over, pulling out a pen. I began to quickly write down instructions for Carlos.
Carlos. On the second floor of the Hospital behind the clock tower, there is a small piece of paper that has the ingredients to a vaccine that can save Jill's life. Collect the ingredients then follow the trail of blood to the hidden door. There is a part of the wall with a smudged fingerprint in blood; press the smudge and put in the numbers 6572. Follow the instructions carefully, and add blood to the T-Blood sample. Bring the ingredients to the synthesizer in the hidden room and place the vials of ingredients in the synthesizer and press the activation button. If you followed the instructions both here and on the piece of paper in the hospital, the front panel of the machine should open and a red liquid should come out in a vial, bring that to Jill and make her drink it. It should work almost instantly...
I moved to Carlos and placed it in his half closed hand and was on my way. I opened the Clock Tower doors and got back onto the motorcycle, turning the engine on and taking one last look at the building. "Good luck...please don't die on Chris and I, Jill..." I said to no one in particular. I don't think I could stand losing another of my best friends. I turned the throttle and drove off, heading for the PD. I was just two blocks away. I blazed down the street and turned right, seeing the street practically destroyed. There was another oil tanker on fire, and what I believe was a cop car crashed into the brick wall of a building. I turned the throttle and drove to the PD, coming to a stop in front of the sealed front doors. I got off the bike and began to search for a way in.
I inspected the building with an irritated expression. I don't remember the metal shutters being up. What was going on? I ran into the alleyway beside the building, thinking that the side entrance was still open. Suddenly there was a loud snarl, and luckily I reacted as hands reached forward and tried to grab me. I twisted out of the way clumsily and turned to face my almost assaulter. He was wearing blood smeared green pants and a yellow padded vest over a white shirt crimson with dried blood. His mouth hung open as if his jaw was broken open and I nearly puked as I saw straight through Brad Vickers' head.
"Brad...God...she was telling the truth..." I said to myself. My dead friend let out a pity-mongering groan as he walked forward, arms extended to catch me in their death grip. I then became all business, pointing my gun at his head with increasing prowess. I fired two shots at my undead friend's head, two bulletholes appearing in his forehead and his body dropping to the ground with a dead thump. I walked forward, not minding my distance from the body, when suddenly his arm shot out and grabbed my left leg. He moaned out as he pulled his body toward my leg, then sunk his teeth into my calf. I felt him gnawing at my flesh, causing the most agonizing pain imaginable. I screamed out as I swung my leg and wrenched the man's teeth painfully out of my leg. I kicked his head, then switched feet, using my right leg to stomp on his skull, the skull splitting open and a black ooze seeped out of the crack. I heard a clinking sound, and from Brad's pants pocket fell the key to one of the lockers in the Dark Room. I picked it up, inspecting it with a confused expression before shrugging and pocketing it.
Hissing through the pain I began to limp towards the door, finding it slightly ajar. Taking deep, soothing breaths, I leaned against the cement wall and reached into my bag to produce my bottle of medicine. I grabbed a small pill and swallowed it down quickly, feeling the pain in my leg subside. When I tested out my leg and found that it did not hurt anymore, I went through the door and entered the Precinct.
The place was dead quiet, pun not intended, and the place was completely trashed. Papers were everywhere, and blood was scattered in various spots. Smudges, sprays, handprints, whatever.
"Hello? Anyone still breathing here?" I called out. My voice echoed through the halls, and soon died out.
"Isaac? Isaac...is that you?" I heard a familiar voice call out weakly. That was Bill!
"Bill! Keep talking! I'm gonna find you!" I called out as I began to traverse the open area of the main hall.
"I'm in the Dark Room." He called out. I broke out into a run down the hall, turning corners I knew so well until I found myself inside the Dark Room. Leaning against one of the lockers was Detective Bill Ackley, one of my close friends from the Police Department. He looked worse for wear, his midsection bleeding from what looked like a puncture wound.
"Bill!" I exclaimed as I knelt beside him. He weakly looked up at me and smiled.
"Thank God you're still alive Isaac..." He said weakly. "You have to escape the city...for all of us. Apologize to Chris and the others. They were right...and we didn't believe them..." He continued weakly.
"No...Bill...I didn't believe them either...I don't deserve to live while you die here...come on stay with me..." I said frantically. Bill chuckled, then suddenly his chuckle turned into a hancking cough, the man coughing a large amount of blood.
"You're a child...children don't deserve to die in this hellhole...you've got to survive..." He gritted out, his voice fading. I shook him to keep him conscious, the man's eyes looking up at the ceiling. "Shit...I can see heaven Isaac...my wife and daughters are there...wav...i..n..g.." His head hung low, and his breathing stopped. I felt tears well up in my eyes as I lifted up the older man's head to try and keep him alive.
"BILL! Stay with me! We'll get through this, I swear! Come on! Stay awake for fuck sake!" I yelled out desperately as tears freely ran down my face. He was gone. As I sat there, shaking my friend's body frantically, my mind kept screaming to the heavens. Why wasn't there anymore help? Weren't human lives worth saving anymore? How many lives were to be taken before Umbrella was satisfied? Flashes of my friends that had died in this squalid deathtrap appeared before my eyes, an ethereal light shining around them.
'Don't fret Izz...' I heard Brad's voice in my ear. '...what's done is done...we're all up in heaven now...don't do something stupid...you're our last messenger...Bill was right...you've got to survive. Be our extension in the world. Take down Umbrella for us...' He said, smiling serenely. Forest nodded, smiling at me with one eye closed in a permanent wink, like he always did.
'Yeah kiddo...You're one of us...you were there waiting for Brad, Becky and the others so faithfully. No member of STARS is going to die so easily!' He said energetically, sticking his thumb up at me. Tears ran down my face as I smiled.
'Besides...someone's got to make sure Chris and Jill get their acts together...' Brad added. I looked at Bill as the lights slowly began to fade, my determinations to survive renewed. I was tougher than this. I have to get revenge for our friends.(1)
I sobbed as I looked at his dead face, then quickly backed away, pulling my gun out at him. I waited, and a minute later his eyes opened, glossed over and milky white. I let one more tear slip from my eye before I pulled the trigger, Bill's head snapping backwards. He stopped moving, his eyes still looking at me. I wiped my tear away and closed his eyes, feeling a piece of me dying with both the memory of Brad and Bill as I was forced to kill them the second time. I sniffled and wiped my nose with my sleeve, then remembered the key I got from Brad's body. I pulled it out of my pocket and looked at it. Locker 23. The number was engraved on the key, so I began to search for the corresponding locker.
I found it near the back of the room, looking at it. I unlocked the padlock with the key and opened it, finding some sort of outfit in it. I smelled my clothes and felt them, and decided it was time to change. The clothes I wore right now were tattered, torn, bloodstained and burned at some places. I unbuttoned my shirt and took it off, throwing it to the side and reached into the locker, pulling out what was supposed to be the shirt. It was white, tight and ribbed. I pulled the garment on, feeling it taut around my chest, sides, abs, shoulders, whatever they could to show off my hard earned definition. While staying relatively vertically challenged, I managed to get muscle definition in all the desired places. My abs were tight, with a four pack defined, and my chest was flat but still powerful. All thanks to martial arts.
I then found two shoulder holsters for handguns as well as a holster assembly for a shotgun, and thought that it was rather convienient while strapping them on, placing my handgun in the left holster and my shotgun in the holster on my back. I pulled out the black denim jacket, pulling it on. There were buckles all over the jacket, tight at all the right places like the sides, and the arms, the jacket itself worn opened. My dress pants were next to come off, and the black denim jeans were slipped on, tight but still enough room to maneuver. The shoes were black as well, going with the rest of the outfit. Lastly were the gloves. Fingerless and black. I looked and felt different, and I liked it. (2)
I tried a few kicks and punches in my new clothes and found them to be rather flexible. I smiled and bent down to get my bag. I looked at Bill's dead body, apologizing to him in my mind. I promised him that I'd get Umbrella for what they had done. I turned to exit and came face to face with the motorcycle girl from before. For a split second I thought it was someone hostile, so she got to stare down the barrel of my handgun.
"It's okay, it's me..." She said, her arms raised to the sky. After seeing that it was that same girl, I pointed my gun away and put it back in its holster.
"Sorry. Thought you were a zombie." I apologized. I looked the girl up and down, then asked the most crucial question in my mind. "Were you bitten?" I quizzed.
The girl smiled and shook her head, turning around and giving me a free inspection. She was fine. No bites at all. I smiled and extended my hand.
"I'm Isaac." I told her. She took my hand, shaking it.
"Claire." She stated. Suddenly there was a gunshot from far away, then the sound of groaning could be heard just down the hallway. Not a good thing. I drew my gun and checked my ammo, seeing only about ten bullets left. Suddenly the gun I had given Claire was extended to me. "Here. You should have this back. I found a different gun inside the police cruiser on the way here. Thanks for giving it to me before though." She said with a smile.
I smiled at her, then turned all business when I saw the group of zombies coming towards the door. I took the gun and holstered it, pulling out the gun with less bullets in it with my right hand and began to fire at the ghouls. "Claire, always aim for the head." I said simply as I counted my shots. It took about four bullets to take down three, one of them missing. I had to get better at that. The monsters dispatched, Claire and I began our trek through my former workplace. I knew where I was going at all times, cautiously checking every hallway.
"Did you find anyone else here, like Marvin...or Aurelia?" I asked of my police officer friends. Claire shook her head, and my heart sunk.
"There's a friend of mine who is supposed to be here. His name is Leon Kennedy, but we got seperated in the crash." Claire replied. I nodded.
"Where do you want to go?" I asked the brunette.
"The STARS office if you don't mind." She answered. I nodded again, leading her to upstairs and quickly dispatching zombies who unfortunately got in our way. We turned the corner and found the door to the large area that was the STARS office open. We entered and saw the place trashed, just like the rest of the Precinct. Papers were everywhere, and what was my little alcove for my desk was now the deathbed of some poor cop who met his end at the teeth of some cannibalistic dead people. There wasn't a bullet hole in his brain though. Time to change that. I pointed my gun at his head and fired, making sure the man wouldn't get back up. We entered the main area for the remaining STARS members, and found nothing dangerous, but on Chris' old desk was a box of handgun rounds. I picked it up and offered it to Claire.
"No, it's fine. I still have the bullets you gave me at the diner. I'll be fine for now." She stated. I asked if she was sure, which she assured me of before I placed the box inside my bag with the shotgun rounds I found in the clock tower. I locked the door to the entrance and sat on one of the chairs.
"So, what are you doing here? I'm sure you wouldn't have come here if you had known the situation." I asked. Claire looked off, eyes nostalgic and reminiscent.
"I'm searching for my brother Chris. He stopped emailing and mailing to me suddenly, so I came here to find some clues." She answered.
"Chris...Redfield?" I asked in a state of utter disbelief. This tomboy chick was Chris' sister? She nodded, looking frantically at me.
"Do you know him? Do you know where he is?" She asked in desperation. I began to weigh the options of telling her and not telling her. Chris was off in Europe planning the takedown of Umbrella, so it was understandable that he hadn't told his sister where he was going or what he was doing. It was safer for her NOT to know, but she was worried...I couldn't lie to her.
"I worked for him independently on a few things, I handled the paperwork in an investigation he was handling. Just a few days before this all happened he flew off to Europe, and that's all I know." I replied. In my mind I could see the image of Chris wringing my neck once he found out I had told her. Not a pretty sight since he's bigger than I am and certainly stronger. It was obvious. The man was part of the air force PRIOR to joining STARS, and the man can bench press twice my weight. Now I KNEW I had to make sure she was safe, now that I knew she was my best friend's sister. On Chris's desk was a piece of paper that kept sticking out in my mind. I picked it up and read it, immediately knowing that I had documented this one and had it in my backup disk.
"Here. It's a journal kept by your brother. I have a copy of it in my backup files in my bag. Maybe this'll give you a few answers to your questions." I said to Claire, holding out the paper to her. She took it from my hand reading it carefully. I looked over at Brad's desk, and saw the small disk containing his completed novel. I got up and quickly moved over to it, grabbing the disk and stuffing it inside my bag with the other disk. The people needed to see this novel. If I were to survive, I was going to publish it with Brad's name as a penname. Smiling, I looked over at Brad's computer and decided to do something a little more drastic. I sat in the revolving chair and turned it on. After booting up the computer, I accessed his email program and addressed the message to Kris.
Kris...
This may sound weird, but I assure you that all that you will read in this email is the utmost and unbridled truth. By now you've probably heard some sort of cover-up story about Raccoon City, but all it is, in truth, is that Raccoon was subjected to a viral outbreak that tore through the population maliciously. The virus killed people within days and brought them back to life with the urge to consume human flesh. We were all warned beforehand about this virus by STARS, but nobody listened, not even I. Now we are all paying for Umbrella's mistakes.
Sounds like a joke right? That the world's most powerful commercial entity, which is primarily a pharmeceutical company, could create something that is responsible for the deaths of hundreds, thousands, tens of thousands, maybe even hundreds of thousands of people. It's not a joke. I have the files to prove it. Chris had me document everything he found in his investigation of Umbrella, and in my files I have the documents outlining exactly what this "T-Virus" does and the side effects of it. I have files documenting things from where does their extra profit go, etc. I'm not lying.
At any point in time, I could die here. I've survived three and a half days in this city, and I know that soon my time will be up. My future is looking even more bleak than ever. I could be ripped to pieces within five minutes of writing this, but to me there is an air of nobility to it. I've proven to myself that I'm worth more than I think. If the government, or even worse, Umbrella releases the number of deaths caused by this virus, and you find MY name on the list, could you erect a small monument in one of Winnipeg's graveyards for me? On the monument I want it to say "Three days proving my mettle, up in heaven where I settle..." Do that one last favor for me, okay?
Always and forever one of your best friends, Isaac Seth Brown, born July 13, 1980, died September 29th, 1998.
I pressed the send button, breathing a sigh wracked with silent sobs...
(End Chapter 17)
(1) No, I'm not trying to change genres, I'm just trying to show his fluctuating mental stability. Its a hallucination.
(2) A little fan moment of black clothes. If I were able to, I'd wear something JUST like it too. In my mind it looks SO kickass.
So there's chapter 17, even though not many people read this story anymore. But oh well, I feel accomplished just by HAVING this many chapters in a story, so yeah...Read and Review, and give me your opinion on the ending.