Ok, so this is a new story that was basically a request from one person/brainstorm of my own that I had. Got the idea while ranting in the Bishie Hunting Club about Wesker and such. So this is well, the first chapter of it. You guys enjoy. shuffles off
This story is dedicated to anyone on the Bishie Hunting Club. Why? Because I luff you guys! XD
I do not own RE, but I SWEAR I shall own the rights to Brad someday! O.O
One last thing, honestly I've never played any of the games, just spent hours on my computer during research on them:P I know lots and lots except the layout of the games, and some quotes, and stuff. At least for most games. Please don't flame me for that. -cowers behind Brad-
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Chapter One: Every Story Has a Beginning
"Sherry, stay here. I'm going to go find your father."
I watched helplessly as my mother left me alone in the police department, thinking I was safe. Who wouldn't? It was the RPD; there were usually several cops who would be thrilled to watch over me for a few minutes or hours, depending on the circumstances.
It wasn't the first time I had been left here by my family, or probably the last. This was practically my home since my parents used them as a babysitting service. I don't know why no one cared that they did that. Normally when mother dropped my off here that nice officer Ryman would take me into the office he worked in, and let me play in there while he did work, and he didn't seem to care. I'd be annoyed as hell if someone came by without calling, to drop a twelve year old girl in the hands of an officer who would be serving the community better in several other ways.
In this case however, the hall was completely empty, deprived of the normal ramblings of reports, situations, news… No police running out the doors to get in their cars from some robbery, or a car crash, or a speeder. Officer Ryman wasn't here. No one was.
I went up the stairs to my right and sat in the corner of the room, singing quietly to myself while fingering the locket my father gave me. I like singing. It passes the time when my parents leave me alone, which happens a lot. I don't like being alone. There's no one to talk to. It makes everything else too quiet and me too loud, because there's nothing to down out my voice. I used to have a pet mouse named Hubert who I talked to when I was alone, he'd squeak at me while I talked to him. Unfortunately dad made it explode in the microwave a few months ago. I also remember one time my parents left me in the house alone for an entire day. I tried making lunch and nearly set the kitchen on fire. It was their own fault thought. I'm only twelve.
Mom and Dad are always busy with work, never having any time for me. But I'm used to it by now, and I still love them. They are my parents after all. When they have time for me, it's golden. I have a picture in my locket of one of those few precious moments where we truly were a happy family. They took me to the zoo. Dad did spend a little too much time telling me about the mating rituals of some of the lizards, and we lost mom when she started taking notes on how a female Lion was reacting with the others, but it was the thought that counted. I only wish that happened more often, like I don't know, maybe twice a month?
My head shot up in anticipation when I heard a sound, like that of feet going against the carpet. A surge off hope flooded through my body that it was someone, anyone I knew. But I had to know them. Mom says I shouldn't talk to strangers. I don't want to end up meeting some pedophile. Mom told me about them. They scare me. Maybe if mom never told me about all the things that were wrong in the world, it wouldn't seem so scary.
Peeking over the railing I looked down below, a human-like shadow entering the hall from an open door. What that thing was however, is something I'd call anything but human…
I stared in pure disgust as the man; at least I think it was a man, entered the light of the room. His entire body was a pale grey, save for the tattered and ripped clothing which was hanging limply over some parts of him. He was covered with rotting flesh, and was missing part of his right arm, the bone jutting out of it at an awkward angle. I felt bile rise to the back of my throat as a glob of skin, hairs attached, fell from its skull, landing on the floor with a sickening glop. As its pale white eyes met mine, I felt my body seize up out of fear, going rigid. I watched with horror as it turned towards me, limping weakly towards me, while letting out the most wretched moan I had heard in my life. It sounded like a dying orca with a trombone rammed up its throat.
I snapped out of staring when the smell hit me. It was the most horrid
thing I had ever smelt in my life. It smelt like rotten eggs mixed with that of sour milk. (Yes I know what those smell like. Dad likes to observe the weirdest things.) I realized how close the freak was, now within ten feet of me. I turned in my place and ran in the other direction as fast as my legs could carry me, running down the hall, to the other end of the room. I raced down the new set of steps, and then ran back in the direction I had come from, out threw my body out the door of the building. I didn't care if mom told me to stay here. I needed to get away now. Running down the pavement I tripped over my own two feet, screaming slightly as I hit the ground and scraped my knee.
Wincing in pain, I scrambled back to my feet with an instant, too scared to stay still on the ground for a long period of time. Then it hit me; What if there were more of them? My stomach tied into a tight knot at that thought. I didn't want to know what that thing was, let alone things. I felt the blood drain out of my face when another moan came from behind me, this one higher pitched. My worst fears were confirmed as I turned slowly to face the other direction, eyes wide as saucers. There stood another one, this time female, as she was wearing what looked to be the remnants of a lavender skirt, several splotches of blood covering the bottom like you would expect mud to after a rainy day. Her long hair, seeming to have been blond, was now several colors of brown, sticking together in large clumps from being covered with sweat and blood.
I ran past her, just barely dodging an attempt to claw at my shoulder with her bloodstained nails. Running down the street, I dodged 3 or so more of these creatures, before turning hastily down an alley, thinking there would be a fire escape or something I could climb.
What was this? A horror movie? The only things like these people I had ever seen were out of those zombie movies dad liked to watch on occasion. Those things weren't as scary on the TV as they were in real life… On TV they were just men and women in lousy make-up, doing a horrible acting job that more often then not made you laugh then scream. Most of their moans sound like cavemen with strep throat trying to sing I'm a Little Teapot...
As I continued to run, I took a moment to look behind me, hoping I wasn't being followed. Unfortunately it appeared that those zombies had taken a liking to me, and at least two of them were slowly following, limping towards me with some form of hunger. I turned back to the direction I was running to stop in mid-step when I came to a wire fence. I felt trapped, wall in front of me, zombies behind. I didn't want to risk running by them. The Alley was far narrower then the streets I had been in previously were, s there was a greater risk of getting caught. Taking a deep breath, I looked at the top of the fence. I hate heights. I have since I can remember really.
Summoning up whatever courage I could find, and stuck my foot into part of the wires. I was more scared of those zombies getting me then I was of this. Starting to climb the fence, my feet were luckily small enough to get good grips into the holes between the wire. At one point my foot slipped, and I grasped onto the wire tightly, pulling my weight onto them until I had a better holding, and continuing to climb.
I could hear the moans of the undead people behind me, but forced myself not to look back. I was very close to the top now. Within a few moments I was close enough that I was able to carefully turn my body slightly, and put a leg over the top, sticking my foot in hole in the other direction. Then I struggled with my other foot, eventually having both on the opposite side of the fence. Climbing down was far easier then climbing up, except that I was now facing the creatures I was trying to escape. As my feet finally reached the ground, I turned and ran, one of the zombies close enough that it reached an arm through the wire in attempt to grab me. Fortunately for me, I was too far off by now.
I ran down the alley again, not looking back for a moment. Before I knew it I was hiding amongst a pile of trash cans to catch my breath. I needed it. I had just been through the most horrifying thing in my life! And something told me, it wasn't over…
So begins my story...
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What you guys think? Any comments would be greatly appreciated.
BK