Alyssa Ashcroft woke up with what could have possibly been one of the worst headaches that any man or woman had ever suffered. It took her a moment to come to before she realized that she was not asleep inher posh hotel room covered bysilky sheetswith her head sinking intofluffy pillow. Not anymore, at least. The closest thing she had to a pillow wasthe cold, cement floor. The room was somewhat dark, or at least too dark for her to see through squinted eyes. She looked up, and a crappy light hung from the ceiling. The bulb was nearly dead, and the metal cone over the bulb was shoddy and bent. It slightly swung, changing walls from dark to light shades ofgray. She looked, and her heart jumped into anothergear when she realized that one of the four walls was an array of bars: She was in a prison cell. Her mouth went dry and her headache suddenly was not top priority. She got up and ran to the bars and wrapped her hands around them. Her polished, purple fingernails touched each other as she clung to the bars. All hope gone and confusion prevailing, Alyssa let out a fatigued pout and laid back onto the floor, her new bed.
"Who was that! Is somebody there?" Alyssa quickly sat back up. She wasn't sure where the whispering voice was coming from, and she wasn't sure if she really wanted to talk to this enigma. The whisper came back again. "Alyssa! Is that you?"
Alyssa, confused and now very uncomfortable, replied, "Um, yeah, I'm Alyssa. Who are you?"
"Hey! Come over here!" Alyssa saw a figure move down by the tiny grating system in the side of the wall, connecting to what she guessed was the next cell. "Come on over here, please!" Alyssa cautiously walked toward the vent, holding at her elbow with one of her hands. She kneeled down, and saw the face of Cindy Lennox, an aquaintance from very long ago.
"Oh my God, it is you, Alyssa!"
"Cindy? Are you really...is that..?" Alyssa, quite frankly, did not know what in the hell she should say. Alyssa hadn't really gotten to know Cindy during the time that she'd known her, trying to survive, and was unsure what to do or say. "Sorry, I'm in a bit of shock..."
Cindy smiled, her optimism shining through even now, "Oh, don't worry, me too. I wasn't sure if you had survived the Raccoon disaster after we'd sort of parted ways!" There was a pause, and Alyssa realized that Cindy wasn't exactly sure what to say either. "Hey, I think I know the answer to this, but, do you know how we got here?" Alyssa wasn't sure herself. She could only guess that she was abducted during the night, seeing that she was still in her nightgown from when she had last remembered going to sleep. She shook her head and shrugged, and Cindy nodded, figuring that "no" would have been Alyssa's answer. As she looked at Cindy, she realized that not much had really changed in her. Granted, she could only see her face through the vent, but she still had the same whitish-blonde hair, the same genuine blue eyes, and the same loyal smile. Alyssa turned again, and saw that she was being watched through the bars. The guard, dressed in the typical garb of most security guards, banged his billy club against the bars.
"Shut up you." Alyssa nervously gulped in response. "You got me woman?" Alyssa slowly nodded, and shakily attempted to smile. As soon as the guard turned, Alyssa of course felt that it was necessary to give the middle finger to the rather rude guard, but suddenly, the telephone rang by the man's desk. He slowly marched over to the desk and sluggishly picked up the phone. He replied to the voice, who was unknown to Alyssa, with a barrage of "Uh huhs" until he mixed up his arsenal of acknowledgementswith a "Yeah" and hung up. He walked down the row of cells and stuck his club in between the bars, rattling the stick as he walked by. "Alright everybody, rise and shine!" The resounding clangs against the bars echoed through the basement. The ceiling lights created a gleam off of the man's ID plate, which told Alyssa that his named was "A. Douglas." His wake up call produced groans and moans, along with some mumbled curses. He strolled over to his desk again, and typed a few keystrokes on his computer. Moments later, the cell doors all opened.
> > > > > > >
David's pocket knife had made the quick but stealthy transition from his sock to his hand, where it was cozily wrapped up with his fist. He and the rest of the "prisoners" were forced to stand in a single file line outside of their cells. David saw Cindy, and he suddenly felt a huge feeling of relief to see that she was alive and in good condition. After seeing her, David suddenly realized that his fellow prisoners were all survivors from the virus outbreak in Raccoon City. However, looking behind him, there was a young black man who he could not recognize. Before he had any chance to ponder, a gruff hand grabbed David by the face and forcefully wrenched his head towards the face of the security guard.
"What exactly are you looking at slick?" David didn't exactly like this guy's tone, so he replied with a friendly jab to the nose. The guy fell like a sack of bricks, and he pushed him self across the floor against the wall, holding at his bleeding nose. "You motherfucker!" The guard drew his handgun, a standard Beretta, and David froze. He knew that if he showed his knife, he'd be screwed, so he stood there, his veins running cold. The law was not kind to him once more, just as it had been in the past for him. A. Douglas got up, still holding a hand over his nose and his other hand poked the gun at David's throat, the barrel nestling right beneath his Adam's apple. Another fist came from the side, smashing against A. Douglas's jaw, and the bulky body of Mark Wilkins followed through, taking the guard to the ground. A shot fired off, but by luck, it hit nobody, only chipping at the lifeless gray concrete wall. David saw his chance, and grabbed his knife, unfolding the silver blade. He leapt at the downed guard, who waspinned to the floor thanks to Mark's successful tackle. David hated to have his past relapse on him, especially with Cindy in the very same room, but he knew what had to be done. The relatively small blade cut a quick path across the guard's neck, slicing through throat and artery alike. A horrible gurgle erupted from A. Douglas's mouth and a small geyser of blood bubbled out, staining the sides of his mouth. His pupils grew larger as his head tipped to the side. The gurgling in his mouth ceased, and he went limp under Mark's body.
"I'm sorry, everybody." David looked down at his knife. It and his hand had become bloodied, the shine of the blade was gone, smeared with crimson. He wiped the blood from the knife and his hand onto his pair of boxer shorts and went over to Cindy. "Are you alright?"
Kevin Ryman, the former cop, stepped forward. "Alright people, obviously, we're all caught in some really fucked up scheme. I don't think that it's a coincidence that we're all here, especially considering that we all lived through Raccoon." Kevin stopped, glazing on his words and spotting the young black man. "Except you, who exactly are you?"
The boy didn't speak up right away, but Mark chimed in instead. "Everybody, this is my son, Ben. He's been living with me for the last year and a half in my cabin out in Georgia..."
"I see you tried getting as far away from the old Raccoon as possible, huh?" For once, Cindy almost seemed sad upon bringing up Raccoon City. "David and I moved out to California. I guess you kind of try anything to try and escape your fears, huh?"
Cindy was interrupted by the sound of turning gears. Everybody ran down the small hallway, and saw that the stairs leading upwards were blocked off by a huge, metal barrier. The steel was obscenely thick, possibly strong enough to holdagainst an explosion. Not even a wisp of air could get through the huge black doors, so it seemed. However, the doors were slowly moving. After a few seconds, light peeped through. As the door continued opening, Kevin ran back towards the cells and George tagged along after him.
"Hey, hey! What are you doing?"
Kevin looked up with his, an almost mischevious smirk sitting upon his face. "Most of us were obviously blindsided, seeing how we're in pajamas and such. I figure, we should all try to get clothed as soon as possible." Kevin began to undress the now pale corpse of A. Douglas. "And I figure that this SOB ain't gonna be needing clothes anymore." Kevin and George laughed as he tossed the shirt to him. George slipped the slightly bloodied shirt over his wife beater. "Just my size. I guess it's my lucky day."
Kevin and George ran back to the others, who watched as the doors had almost completed opening. The end of the hallway by the stairs was now very well lit thanks to the newly exposed floor, and the dull, gray walls were much lighter. However, they still retained the same lifeless feeling, and were just as cold. Kevin distributed clothing out to who needed them most, primarily David, who was clad in just boxers and socks, and Cindy, who probably would be more comfortable in more than just her blacklingerie. Kevin felt like making a comment on Cindy's figure, but he held his tongue, not wanting to end up like the guard back there.
"Wait up y'all. Why exactly are we goin' up there!" Jim scratched at his head, his hair still bleached blonde, just as it was back in '98. "We don't know what's up there, man! What if this ends up beinglike Raccoon City again? We barely survived that, and I don't wanna die now!"
Mark walked up to Jim and put one of his hands on his shoulder. "Hey, hey, hey, calm down Jimmy. Listen, we've got one gun right now. As long as we stay together,as a group, and not waste away our two clips worth of bullets, we'll be just fine. Got me?" Jim nodded, still terrified, but he tried his best to cover it with a smile.
Kevin stepped to the front, by the first stair of the staircase, and held the gun in his hand. "Alright everybody, like Jim said, we really don't know what is ahead of us. It's been a while since we've had to work together like this, but we need to work as a team. Cockiness and thickheadedness will get us in trouble, and I've learned that the hard way." Kevinshuddered a bit, thinking of the massive scar on his backfrom the Raccoon disaster. "So guys, we gotta stick together and not panic. Cool?" Kevin did not expect an answer, so he turned and began climbing the stairs, beginning the ascension with his previous comrades into their past reincarnated.