Author's Note: I apologize for the delay in the last couple of chapters. Life and all that.
Furthermore, I do not, not have I ever, owned any of the intellectual property directly or indirectly pertaining to the Resident Evil series of games or movies. My work here is simply a bit of fan fiction designed for the amusement of other Resident Evil fans.
I don't have any money to speak of.
Don't sue me.
Please.
"Where's Darrell?" I said.
Everyone looked around, but no one made a move. No telling where more of those hell hounds could be hiding. I peered around several corners, but found nothing. Braddly, on the other hand, called out to Jeff and I a few moments later.
"Hey guys, have a look at this."
Just around one of the many machines laying nearby was the handgun Darrell had been using. Brad reached down to pick it up, but immediately dropped it. His hand came away trailing some sort of shiny, viscous slime.
"Aw fuck, gross," he cursed as he wiped it off on the nearest machine.
"That's not a good sign..." I muttered
"No shit," Jeff hissed at me, "D? HEY D!"
I winced at the noise. Rackett like that could easily bring more of... whatever... was lurking around. I pushed 2 rounds into the tubular magazine of my shotgun and expelled the empty shell in the chamber. Mara and wedge poked their heads out from under one of the nearby machines. I glanced down at them and sighed. As hard as all this was for the rest of us I could only imagine how unnerving all this crazy shit was for a couple of cats.
"Maybe he went upstairs," said brad, gesturing towards the suspended stairs that reached into the upper level of the warehouse.
"Well we're gonna hafta check it out anyway, let's go," Jeff said, accenting the statement by chambering a round in his handgun.
While the others were picking up their things I spent a few moments coaxing the cats into my backpack. While they wouldnt normally subject themselvs to such confinement, the backpack must have seemed as safe a place as any since they both crawled in and curled up in the main compartment, which was now empty save for the cats themselves.
"If you're done playing around over there can we get a move on, Scott," Jeff snapped.
I flipped him off and readied my shotgun saying, "I'll go first."
Why do I say stupid things like that?
Setting my foot upon the first step showed me how stable these stairs were. Metal cables descended form the ceiling, holding the stairs up. It was probably sturdy enough but the slight sway made it feel odd. Gripping the railing in my free hand I proceeded upwards into the musty, dimly lit second storey. I could feel the cats shift restlessly in my backpack. Mara poked her head out, peering over my shoulder as I crept along. Each step resulted in a slightly muffled, metallic echo. The others were several steps behind me as I made it to the catwalk that skirted the walls of the warehouse. About 10 yards away was what appeared to be an office, a small metallic structure secured to the inside wall of the building and to the catwalk itself. Dark windows looked out over the warehouse. Could make a good place to hole up, I thought to myself.
I stalked forward slowly, trying to me as quiet as possible. Braddly and Jeff moved up closer to me, Braddly pulling up the rear with my trusty beat-stick gripped tightly. I had just reached the edge of the building, only a few feet away from the door, when something caught my eye. Something clear and slimy was on the door. As I got closer I could make it out more clearly. It was a handprint.
That sinking feeling hit me just as something large and heavy crashed into the door to the office building from the inside, the smashed into something else inside the room. Whatever it was screeched hideously, the noise sounding like a cross between a human child and a lion's roar. It strummed every nerve in my body like an inept violinist. Mara pulled back inside the backpack, and I could feel both cats shivered with fright.
"Cover me" I heard myself command as I moved to stand in front of the door, clicking the flashlight on my shotgun on. Jeff moved beside me, aiming towards the door. Brad hunkered down like a major league player ready to swing for the bleachers. I kicked the door with my good leg, sending it flying open.
The light from my weapon illuminated... something. There was an upturned desk which partially obscured it. I quickly made out remnants of the "Die Orc" shirt Darrell had been wearing this whole time draped over the things form. I froze in place. Jeff said something under his breath I didn't quite catch. The creature howled again, climbing party over the table and facing us. Darrell's facial features had quite been consumed by the transformation yet. His face was twisted into an agonizing scream. His eyes ceased to exist as most of the flesh on his head had begun to melt away. Something long dangled from his mouth, and it took me a moment to realize it was his tongue. His body was warping and pulsating as we watched. His skin was tearing in places to revealing growing, knotted muscles.
"K....k...kill...." Darrel coughed.
I didn't give him the chance to finish the thought. The first shotgun blast took most of his head off. The second completed the job and took off some of his upper torso for good measure. The rest slumped to the floor in a spreading pool of blackish blood.
I pulled the door shut and looked at my stunned companions.
"Let's go... there's nothing left here for us anymore." I said flatly.