Action! ACTION ACTION ACTION! I LOVE IT! BAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! Here's chapter 6! Sorry it took so long to update, I've been so tied down with Math homework, the bane of my existence, and all this other stuff, so I hope you enjoy this short chapter.
Full Summary: After his revival at the hands of double-crosser Albert Wesker, Micheal has no memory of what happened in Raccoon City, nor who the blonde angel in his dreams really is. He carries the scars of a past he can no longer recollect, but unconsciously trusts Wesker with his life as second in command to Albert Wesker within the ranks of HCF. Soon his dreams reveal themselves to be memories. Six months have passed and Sara Hewitt is now a functional part of the Umbrella Rebellion, moving around avoiding the watchful eye of Umbrella, but every night the same dreams haunt her. Her dreams begin to evolve, take on new, more shocking twists, which give her the hope that the boy she once lost is still out there, looking for her. All goes well until one of her missions in Paris with the others go awry, and she, along with one new ally from Raccoon, a woman named Claire Redfield, are captured and sent to a remote island. Based on CVX and the movie version of RE.
Disclaimer: Believe me, if I owned Resident Evil, you'd know.
"..." means speech.
'...' means thoughts.
-Chapter 6-
-Sara and Claire, 1 hour later-
Sara stared at the concrete wall across from her, her only solace. Suddenly she felt another of those large rumblings, the chains holding up their beds rattling and the ground beneath her shaking. Claire herself hadn't moved since they were thrown into the cell. A few seconds after the rumbling died out, Claire began to stir. She mumbled dumbly, propping herself up with her arms. Hissing, she rubbed her head. Suddenly she became aware of her situation. She looked around, her ponytail whipping back and forth as her head turned quickly. She spotted Sara, who was staring at the wall opposite her.
"Sara, what's going on? Where are we?" She asked. Sara realized that Claire was awake and smiled in relief. She got off the bed and moved to where Claire was.
"I don't know. We've been here for a while though, I can tell that much." Sara responded distractedly. Off in the darkness beyond their jail cell, Sara could hear slow, laboured footsteps coming near. In the black shadows however, she couldn't see who it was when the footsteps stopped. "Claire, turn on your lighter..." She asked. Claire fished it out of her jeans pocket and sparked it, lighting the room. Sara looked around, seeing nothing beyond the bars of their cell. "Here..." She said, reaching over to take the lighter. Claire handed it to her carefully so she wouldn't burn herself or Sara, and Sara began to walk forward near the cell door. Suddenly a Hispanic man appeared in the amber light of the small flame. Sara jumped back a little, startled by this man.
Rodrigo limped over to the door, taking out blood soaked keys and unlocking the jail door. "Go...get out. You must." He said simply. Sara and Claire stepped out of the jail cell, confusion written across their faces. Why was this man letting them out? They didn't have time to ponder this as Rodrigo doubled over in pain, holding the wound in his belly. Claire and Sara moved closer, helping the man up and moving him to a table near their jail cell. "Damn him..." The Spanish man gritted through his teeth. Claire inspected his wound, and hissed in disgust. That was a nasty stab. Rodrigo looked up at the two girls, and sighed weakly. "At least Rodrigo San Raval can die with one good deed on his soul..." He whispered. He closed his eyes, and at first the girls thought he had died until Sara pressed her index and middle finger onto the inside of his wrist, finding a weak, but steady pulse.
"He's just asleep, but that wound of his is going to get really bad if we don't help him out." Sara told Claire. She nodded.
"We have to find him some hemostatic medicine. It'll stop the bleeding." She replied. Sara nodded, and at that, she and her friend were off on their way. They walked semi-cautiously through the dark corridors, the two women clinging closely to each other inside the radius of the feeble light given off by the lighter. They made it to the staircase, the two of them running up the stairs in a false sense of freedom. They emerged and found another row of corridors lined with jail cells three stories up. All had been opened. They made a mad dash for the exit, seeing that nobody was trying to stop them from escaping. In the darkness, they could not see the puddles of blood scattered haphazardly on the floor. They were in for a surprise...
-Micheal and Silver-
"Hey...wake up, you moron." Micheal said, nudging Silver roughly. Silver opened an eye, eying the room in a complete daze. That missile blast really knocked him. Silver's vision began to sharpen, the black mass sitting beside him turning into the black-clad boy he was fighting an hour ago. Silver reacted, rolling backwards and landing on his feet, training his gun on the superhuman boy. Micheal waved it off, showing the redhead that he was tired of their fight. "Put that down. We have bigger problems on our hands..." He stated, referring to the fact that the room they were in had absolutely no doors. The windows were about four and a half meters from the ground, way too tall for Silver to jump to. Silver looked around, his left eye glowing brightly to illuminate what he was seeing. "Who are you" Micheal asked.
"I told you. My name is Silver, and that is the name you will use to address me." He replied. Micheal shrugged, getting up.
"Well...I guess we have to work together for now. Now come on. We have to get the hell out of this room." Micheal said, his tone respectful but still had a hint of superiority. Silver looked around the room, then up at the broken window.
"How. I'm not tall enough to even get near the window." Silver stated simply. It was the truth. Micheal had noticed earlier that Silver was almost four inches shorter than him. Micheal chuckled, but moved to in front of the window, cupping his hands together to make a step.
"Well, we can improvise. Make a running start, okay" Micheal said. Silver looked at him funny, but knew he had no choice. Silver distanced himself from the raven-haired boy, getting ready. Micheal braced himself as Silver made a dash towards him. Silver got ready as he neared Micheal, and at about a meter away he launched himself into the air and stepped up onto Micheal's hands. Micheal pushed up with half his strength, the redheaded male sailing high through the air and making it over the broken glass and to the outside. He heard the thump of a person hitting the ground and got himself ready for his jump.
He backed up, a good five meters away from the window. He makes a run, going half speed and leaping high, sailing through the hole the redheaded boy and he had made. He watched the ground as time began to slow, and flashes of light blinded him. Suddenly the scenery changed. Instead of Silver watching Micheal sail over him, he saw himself wearing a black jean jacket and black denim jeans watching him sail through the air. He looked forward and saw the most beautiful vision in his life. Flowing blonde hair obscured her face but he knew that this girl was the angel from his nightmares. He looked down again and saw that instead of the gravel pavements of the prison island he was on, the cold cement of an urban city stared back up at him.
He hit the ground, rolling and getting to his feet. He turned around, seeing a high chain link fence blocking a mob of people from getting to them. The people on the other side of the fence were going wild, shaking the fence off of it's foundations. Micheal moved closer, seeing festering welts and blood soaked wounds on various spots on their bodies. Micheal's nose crinkled in disgust as a putrid smell entered his nose.
"Micheal...Micheal..." He heard a woman's voice call. He turned and saw her, the angel in glasses. Even while tired and stressed she still looked stunning. She wore the same attire she wore in all the other dreams. She was wearing a light blue zip-up sweater and dark blue denim jeans. "Micheal...I wanted to tell you...I love you..." She said softly. Micheal's eyes widened in shock as she strode towards him, put her arms around his shoulders and kissed him. He froze. He knew this was a dream, but even in the dream he felt safe in the angel's arms, like his problems will just go away.
"Let's GO!" He felt someone tugging on his arm. He snapped out of the dream, seeing and smelling what was surrounding them. Their clothes were raggedy and grey, standard prison garb here on Rockfort, but he couldn't pick up their heat signatures. Their arms were outstreched, eyes dead and glossed over. Their mouths hung open stupidly, deep piteous moans resonated from their mouths. He flinched at the sound of a guns firing, a gleaming silver Desert Eagle flashing at the end of the barrel with explosions as the first wave of people dropped to the ground, holes in their foreheads. Micheal turned to the shorter boy, watching him kill the pitieous human shells without a second glance.
Silver looked over at him, Desert Eagle in hand. "WELL? ARE YOU GONNA START SHOOTING THEM OR NOT?" He yelled. Micheal pulled out his automatic pistols, firing at one person's heart. They didn't fall. "THEY'RE NOT ALIVE! SHOOT THEM IN THE HEAD!" Silver warned loudly. Micheal heeded the redhead's advice, raising his guns to head level. He pulled and held the trigger of his guns, waves and waves of the advancing hordes dropping to the ground. He began to sweep his gun in a semicircle back and forth, most of the advancing mob dropping with just a few scragglers. He turned and saw that most of the mob was on the floor, unmoving. Six of them were left, and Silver had holstered his guns. He ran forward, grabbing the nearest one by the head and twisted it sharply, a loud snapping noise ringing in Micheal's ears.
Micheal sensed the other five on his side getting nearer, and spun. He grabbed the closest one and slammed his inner forearm into the rotting man's neck, the head foregoing the snap and just breaking off altogether. Micheal slammed his heel into the next man's chin, the body too slow to react to the blow and the neck snapping harshly. He pulled out his spin swords and slammed it into the neck of two of the remaining three, the steel weapons slicing the heads off easily. He twirled the weapons in his hands as the last member of the mob advanced on him. He sliced off his assailant's hands, the person still coming at him. He spun out of the way and sliced off one of the legs of the man, the man dropping to the floor but still struggling to get at him. He twirled the blades again, finally stabbing the man through the back of the head. The man stopped moving, and Micheal returned his melee weapons to their holders.
He turned to see if Silver was faring well and was amazed. He had abandoned his guns and pulled out two knives. Two men advanced on him, arms outstretched and moaning pathetically. Silver swung the knives, the blades actually releasing themselves from the hilt and swung around wildly, slicing various random parts of their bodies off. Silver looked so graceful while killing, like he was dancing a murderous latin dance. Silver spun, twisted his arms and hands every which way possible and jumped over the cable connected to the blades, the two rotting, walking corpses falling to the floor in various pieces. Silver stopped, blades retracting and returning to the hilts. Micheal watched in mild admiration as the redhead calmly slipped the knives back into their sheathes as if he hadn't just killed multiple human beings.
"Wow..." Was all he could say.
-End Chapter 6-
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