Resident Evil: The Final Chapter

Chapter 26: The Last Hope

A/N: I hate to say it, but this is really close to being the actual final chapter. So therefore I thank you all for reviewing, and I thank my readers too. Please keep reading and reviewing to the end of this.

Sesshoumaru the 'Crimson Head' is a creature in the Resident Evil re-make for GameCube. Like, when you kill a zombie on that one and walk out of the room, its still there, and after a set time period it turns into what they call a Crimson Head. This creature, as far as I know, doesn't appear in any other Resident Evil games except for this one. The whole mutating virus thing I just came up with it, seeing as how the zombies mutate overtime, I just linked it up with the virus and that's how I came to this conclusion…

On another note, for some reason they won't create a section for The Island. But I'm hoping they will eventually. But if I do make this novelization of the movie, I will probably complete the entire story before it gets posted up so this might not be up until March at shortest.

That's all if have to say, so enjoy this next chapter…er please...

1:30:00

All together again, they devised a quick plan of action. Ada would lead them to Wesker, and they'd take him out as quickly as possible. Then they'd find the missiles, and disable them. They still had plenty of time, and if Wesker could be dispatched of quickly, then they'd have at least an hour to disable the missiles. It was understood that there was no time to play nice. Wesker was a threat, plain and simple, and had to be taken out.

Chris was following Ada, shotgun in hand. After the betrayal of Wesker, after all he'd tried to do, he was ready to get rid of that bastard once and for all. He'd make sure there was no way Wesker could revive himself from this one. He'd pump ten shells into Wesker's head before letting Wesker's corpse out of his sight. All of the sorrow he felt for those dead because of Umbrella turned into anger a long time ago. And that sorrow turned anger for those dead because of Umbrella was channeled in on his already high amount of hate for the company. All of that hate for Umbrella strengthened by their ways, by the things they created, by their false role of God, added to his hate. And now that Umbrella was gone, his anger had to be focused elsewhere, and Wesker was the receiver of it.

"Stay alert." Ada announced. She looked back at everyone, and when her eyes fell upon his she seemed to understand his emotions within him. "Wesker could be waiting for us." Ada grabbed the door lever and pulled it down slowly. He could feel his stomach turning upside down. As much as he wanted this, as much as he wanted to end this forever, he was scared. Scared of the sheer power that he knew Wesker had.

He'd witnessed it first hand. Wesker was strong, he was beyond strong, and there was no doubt. He was superhuman in all ways. He'd never really wondered what if. What if he outsmarts them, what if he kills them all in one move? One simple gesture, and he could very well kill them all. What powers did Wesker possess? When Chris reminisced on Alexia Ashford and the powers she possessed, he had to wander just how much stronger was the guy who could live through the detonation of a mansion, and get up after being crushed by well over ten tons of steel pipes?

The door creaked open very slowly, and Chris focused his attention on it. Gradually the corridor on the other side came into view-and there was nothing but a metal hall with fluorescents lining the ceiling. He let out a breath he didn't know he was holding and followed Ada into the hall. They didn't move further until everyone was through the door-and there he was.

Like some monster in a nightmare, Wesker was just suddenly there. At the other end of the corridor, at least thirty yards between them. He was unarmed, wore only a black shirt, pants, gloves, boots and tactical vest like he'd worn at the mansion. Of course, Wesker's trademark shades adorned his face-and so did a malicious smirk that seemed to talk to Chris in the back of his mind, telling him that he would die soon.

"I do not know what you would consider a man like me." Wesker started in a casual voice, breaking Chris out of his thoughts. "Would you consider me evil or twisted? Or would you deem me insane? I guess there really is no true answer to that since every individual holds his or her own beliefs." Wesker folded his arms over his chest. "A curious cat." Chris cocked his eyebrow, still watching Wesker, fearing he'd pull a trick.

"A curious cat. That is what I describe myself as. I'm not twisted, and I'm not evil, surely I'm not insane. I am perfectly sane, perfectly normal just like you. Haha-that is if you put aside the fact that I've been put back together a few times by those senseless people of Umbrella." Wesker moved his arm, and Chris immediately fell into a defensive stance.

Wesker smirked at him. "A bit jumpy, aren't we, Redfield?" Wesker snickered, but continued talking as if nothing happened. "At a very young age I was lured into Umbrella's experiments by pure curiosity. The thought of…creating new organisms intrigued me. And so I moved to Raccoon City and I became the Alpha S.T.A.R.S. Commander. Umbrella then assigned me to get rid of evidence in the Spencer Estate; of course they offered a hell of a lot of money for doing it. I was caught up in the explosion as the Spencer Estate blew up; the whole thing was rigged with explosives. It, of course was no thanks to my fellow Alpha teammates that wanted to be the good guys and not work with me to cover this thing up…" Wesker snarled a bit but continued. "Umbrella got me back up on my feet, gave me my money-and I turned on the bastards as soon as I got what I wanted. Fifteen million dollars, it was very nice to have…" Wesker laughed, continuing again shortly after. "With that money I hired spies, I hired thieves, and soon I had the T-Virus, and I was getting richer with each monster that was produced from it."

"Then I hired researchers, I made labs, and I fell in love with a woman named Grace O'Malley who was working in producing the Tyrant-series monsters that your all probably familiar with. There was an accident and she was mortally injured. Using the T-Virus I saved her, resulting in the woman you all know as Glitter-the woman you killed." The anger in his voice was loud and clear, but again he cleared his voice and kept talking, no one bothered to intervene. "Then I sent Ada, the traitor, to capture the Plaga. The Los Illuminados were at once connected to Umbrella, and so they wanted to destroy America to get revenge for the closure of the Umbrella Corporation. They experimented with the Plaga, and it had results like the T-Virus that your all surely familiar of. Ada captured the Plaga and brought it back to me, and then our little story unraveled. You see, I thought it'd be nice to see how humans reacted in a worldwide epidemic, an epidemic of the T-Virus of course."

"Your sick." Chris spat finally. "Your twisted, demented, your sick! Your kind should be locked up so you can't taint the rest of the world with yourself!" Wesker was just talking in circles, explaining things he already knew. What was he trying?

Wesker laughed. "It goes far beyond that, Redfield. None of you can even comprehend what I am thinking…"

"And I don't think we want to you sick bastard!" Barry yelled from somewhere behind him.

"Whatever. Talking time is over!" And he moved, he really moved. So fast that he blinked and missed Wesker closing the thirty-yard gap in between the group and Wesker. Wesker stopped in front of Ada and thrust his hand forward, seized her small neck and lifted her up off of her feet. "First I'll dispose of you, Ms. Wong."

"Put her down, Wesker!" He yelled, raising his Beretta, but he couldn't get a clear shot at Wesker-and then the gun was ripped from his hand by an unknown force, and was suddenly skidding down to the other end of the hall, certainly a trick of Wesker's. "What are you?" He demanded, grabbing his shotgun now.

"Heh…that wasn't me." Wesker stated, taking a quick glance around his shoulder- and Ada kicked him in the chin when he turned back around, with such force that his shades flew off of his face and clattered to the floor. Wesker let go of Ada and she pulled her handgun out, aimed at Wesker, and fired.

"What the hell?" He stared in awe, gazing at the smashed bullets that had stopped in midair-and then the air rippled, and two red orbs shaped like a cats' eyes were visible.

"Meet the product of the Plaga and T-Virus' fusion…" Wesker said, in just as much awe as Chris and the others. The air rippled again, and two arms were visible, anther ripple and a torso, then legs, head, and this continued until this creature was visible. "Kill them!" Wesker yelled, backing up behind the creature, but not retreating.

The creature took a step forward, it's legs that bent at the knee in the opposite direction of a human, were skinny, almost all bone maybe. Even its hip was somewhat small, and it seemed that it had no lower abdomen, only had what looked like a spinal cord covered in flesh. Its chest was wide, though, and two long muscular arms hung at its side from its wide shoulders. Its fingers were skinny and long, tipped with short claws. It's muscular neck held up a head that was bald. It had no nose, not even a hole where one could have been, but instead it had a vertical mouth that started where the arc of the noise should have been, to its chin. Topping it off was gleaming red eyes that seemed to match Wesker's in their intensity.

It took another step-and Chris fired his shotgun. He aimed for its chest, couldn't really get to well of a shot anywhere else. The buckshot speckled its chest and a few fleshy pieces flew off-but it kept coming. More shots, from the others, tore into the thing as it stepped forward but there was no damage because it wasn't letting up. Chris aimed to fire again-and it grabbed him, one long arm wrapped long fingers around his neck, the other grabbing his shirt.

He was off of his feet within seconds, and the creature opened its strange mouth to reveal sharp little teeth inside. It growled and pulled him closer -then it dropped him as it screeched in pain. Chris fell hard on his shoulder, still gripping the shotgun, and looked up to see another creature attempting to choke the one that attacked him.

1:22:00

Spate had never actually fought before for as long as he could remember. So he could have fought someone during his time as an actual human, but he doubted it. This was different though, a lot of things hung in the balance of the events that would unfold here. So he ran, ran as fast as he could from the control room and down to the third level where Wesker was waiting for them-where a fight was sure to break out soon.

He'd seen Wesker talking to them through one of the monitors in the control room, and understood that he was just playing with them. He was pulling them into a trap, and when they least expected it they were going to be attacked. It was sure to be a losing battle that they would fight. He had to help.

He busted through another door, the rattle of it as it slammed into the wall echoed throughout the hallway of the third floor. He feared that he was too late; maybe Wesker already finished them off-

"Kill them!"

Wesker!

Spate pumped his arms faster at his side, his legs beginning to ache from running-and suddenly he was at least a foot taller. His legs stretched with a splintering crack, then his arms, and more cracks of bone ensued. He didn't exactly know what his body was doing…

It's preparing for battle… He told himself, and that made perfect sense. He knew what he was throwing himself into, knew that he would battle, and his body was responding. It was reconstructing his anatomy, the usual slow procedure nearly quadrupling in its speed. It was making him larger, and stronger. It was making him prepared to fight. He tore the cloak off, for the first time in-months. Fresh air hit his still changing body; he felt his ribs expanding, his skin stretching to allow his body to grow. The pain, it was intense, as every bone and muscle in his body was rebuilt to match what was coming. He felt his arms get longer, a strange tingling in his fingertips as claws grew inside, then forced their way through tissue. The same happened to his feet, which now more resembled the feet of some reptile, webbed, and clawed. His spine stretched, cracked, and his neck responded by elongating, widening with muscle. He felt the skin on his chest stretch; it felt like a fire inside his torso as muscle grew. And it was complete, no more cracks of bone; no more skin nearly ripping apart. He was ready.

As he rounded a corner, he saw; saw what he hadn't seen before. He was sure this was that ghost-like entity that had been present just a few moments ago. He just…felt it, like an instinct. This was that thing, and not five feet on either side were people. One side was Wesker; standing with his arms crossed around his chest leisurely, on the other side of the creature was the twelve who had broken into the facility. In it's hand it held the one named Chris Redfield.

Something resembling an instinct, or very close to it anyways-a impulse- made him run forward, and past Wesker, his sights set on that creature. He raised one clawed hand and brought it down with as much force as he could. The razor-sharp claws made their mark in the oddly formed back of the creature. Its upper torso was large, while everything under it was skinny. In short, it was very top heavy.

Time resumed, and the creature growled in pain as four jagged scars appeared on its shiny black skin. It dropped the man named Chris, and he lunged forward, plowing into the creature with such force that he lifted it off of its feet. He stopped, as to not trample over Chris, and spun around to face away from the people that Wesker wanted dead.

He looked at Wesker, who had a look of disbelief engraved in his tanned features, and a grin appeared on his face that he wasn't so sure looked human. The creature he was holding on his shoulder clawed at his thick back, and neck, so he grabbed it firmly and slung it off of his shoulder and smashed it into the metal floor. The force was tremendous, and caused the metal sheet to dent under the pressure. The creature picked itself back up and lunged forward at him. It collided with him and immediately started tearing at his skin. Tiny claws that hurt like sharp knives dug into his chest, instantly creating gashes in his flesh. The creature was quick; it felt like a million knives were cutting into him all at once. The velocity of its swing were incredible, the pain immense.

But I'm used to pain…

And the creature continued clawing; continued digging, and Spate swung his hand at it. Two claws caught the thing in the face; ripped skin from its awkward head easily, and Spate thrust another hand forward. This time the claws struck the thing in the chest and entered easily. Half of his hand was inside the things chest now. It screeched in pain and pulled itself away. His hand slipped out ever so easily, and blood spilled out of the thing, and painted the floor crimson.

It continued to shriek, continued to suffer. And so he put the creature out of its misery with a well-placed thrust that sent his claws digging into its skull. When he pulled them out it fell, dead, and Wesker grimaced.

"Another traitor?" Wesker demanded. "Wow, aren't I the lucky one?"

"I am not going to allow you to do this!" He yelled, a growl mixing into it, like two voices at once. "It's either disarm those missiles, or be killed!" And Wesker had the nerve to laugh. "I'm serious, Wesker. I'll tear you apart before I let your twisted mind go to work."

"Oh stop it, Spate." Wesker removed his shades and placed them in the inside pocket of his jacket. "I know as good as you do, and although you probably won't admit it, there's a shitload of doubt building up in the back of your head. So give it up, Spate, and let me kill these imprudent menaces…"

"Fine, Wesker, have it your way." He stated and looked back at the 'imprudent menaces'. "The missiles can be disabled from Wesker's office, it's down the hall to the right. There's a secret passage behind the bookcase, it should be open, and inside you'll find the controls." He turned back to Wesker. "I don't care if I die Wesker…"

"What do you plan to do, how do you think that they can reach my office? They'll have to go through me!" Wesker laughed and shook his head.

"I'll take care of that part…" He retorted, and a deep growl escaped his throat. He wondered if all of the monsters he created felt this way? There was a pure rush of adrenaline pounding in the back of his head, throughout his body, and he had the instincts to kill his enemy no matter what.

"It's an impossible feat!" Wesker yelled. "How do you expect to pull it off?"

"I'll find a way." And he lunged forward, his massive hands grabbed Wesker's arms that seemed as skinny as a pencil and forced him against a wall. "Go!" He yelled for them to run, and saw that Chris, Ada, and the girl Claire were the first ones to run past-and then his world was spinning suddenly. His hands released Wesker, not willingly, but were forced to do so-and he was slammed into the wall behind him. The back of his head cracked against the wall, and he saw Wesker laughing just as he rocketed toward the other wall, colliding with it the next moment.

Then the other wall, then the other, the other, and the other again. He felt his body shrinking, bones cracking as they shrunk-and broke. Soon he was lying on the ground, helpless and broken, and Wesker was gone. The remaining nine humans rushed to his side.

1:18:00

He was the first to enter the room; Ada and Claire were close behind him. As soon as he got in the room he spotted the open hidden passage and dashed inside. They were behind him, just now entering Wesker's room that he'd blown through. The new room was simple, and he spotted the instrument panel quickly, there was also another door so he ran to it to check first. It opened into a large, bare space, nothing inside at all.

Chris turned back around to face the instrument panel, gripped the shotgun tightly, knowing that almost anything could happen now, and absently noting that a female voice was saying there was one minute and thirty-eight seconds until missile launch-and the next thing he knew he was inside the next room, dropping his shotgun as he crashed to the metal-grate floor.

"Boy scout Redfield…" Wesker whispered, as there was a low mechanical sound behind them. "Your sister and that other good-for-nothing bitch are trapped in my private room. So this gives us a little alone time…"

He scrambled to his feet and took a quick glance at his shotgun. It was about thirty feet away. Warm liquid was trickling down his face, blood no doubt, he'd collided with that metal mesh floor pretty roughly. Wesker was about five feet away, and everything about him was casual. He was just…unfazed by everything. Was it because he knew he was superior to Chris?

"I know you've been waiting for this a long time, Chris." Wesker's voice was calm and cool, not an ounce of fear or regret in it. "So hit me." Wesker said, folding his arms behind his back. "Hit me, Chris, because pretty soon I'm going to pummel you. I too, have been waiting for this moment, Redfield. Ever since the Spender Mansion I've wanted this. You caused me to fail that mission Chris. That was the only mission I ever failed, do you know that, comrade?"

"I'm not your comrade, Wesker…" He spat back, disgusted at the thought. He started circling slowly around Wesker, who sequentially continued to spin around so that their eyes stayed locked.

Wesker laughed. "Wouldn't it be nice to go back to the old days? When we all still worked together? When we went to the bars, hit on the girls…Ahh, yes. That was the good life wasn't it, Chris?"

"And you threw it all away for money, Captain. You threw your friends-your own teammates- away, threw away all of the good times for money, for greed. Do you know what I heard, Wesker?" Wesker bobbed his head upward as to ask 'what'. "I've heard that greed is the root of all evil…"

Wesker laughed again. "Why do you all continue to call me evil? Its just curiosity, nothing more, Chris, it's just like being curious when you're a child. You set there on Christmas day, wandering what you could have received…Curiosity, that's all that it is-oh, I've got a nice example. How about your own curiosity Chris? How long have you been curious about what lays under miss Valentine's clothing?"

"Jill?" He asked, knowing very well that's what Wesker meant.

Wesker nodded. "Yes, I remember seeing you checking her out back at the Raccoon P.D. I remember the way your eyes never seemed to leave her figure. But, hey, I couldn't have blamed you. Back then I wouldn't have minded getting into her pants. You see, Chris? It's all just curiosity, there is absolutely nothing wrong with curiosity." Wesker shrugged. "I'm a curious cat." Wesker finished, repeating his line from earlier.

He couldn't figure out how the hell Wesker could carry a conversation on like this. He was talking like they were still friends, still comrades at the R.P.D., but yet he claims he hated Chris with the same amount that he hated Wesker. Above all else, how could he carry on a conversation like this after his wife was killed not two hours ago? Wesker always knew how to keep his cool but how long could he actually hold it up? "Well…curiosity kills the cat, Captain." He said, finally stopping his slow circling around Wesker.

"Then lets go…" Wesker replied and planted his feet firmly on the floor, held his head up with his chin stuck up slightly, his chest out, and arms still behind his back.

He didn't need to be told twice, and he clenched his fists tight. He knew what Wesker was trying to do; he was trying to soften Chris, trying to replace his anger with feels of their used-to-be friendship, or at least subside it. It wouldn't work, there was too much on the line. He would have dashed for the shotgun and stuck it to his brain, but Wesker wanted to brawl.

I'll give him brawl alright!

And he started toward Wesker, closed the very short gap in between them and swung his fist out toward Wesker. His right-handed hook slammed into the side of Wesker's face, all of his power behind the punch, and Wesker's head only turned to the side. Wesker did not stumble, did not falter, and did not even show pain in his features. Slowly, Wesker turned to face him, and only now was his cat-like crimson eyes clearly visible. Although they looked fierce like an animals, burning bright red like fire, they were calm.

Wesker grinned, and he stepped back, pain throbbing through his hand. "Is that all you've got, Redfield?" And Wesker was suddenly directly in front of him; clearing the length of about three feet in less then a blink-and he was truck in the gut. He doubled over after Wesker plowed his hand into his abdomen. The pain was intense, and he felt a loss of breath. "Come now, Chris…that was barely a punch."

He stumbled to his feet and stepped back to distance himself a bit more, although it really wouldn't matter how far he got from Wesker. Even if he high-tailed his ass to the other end of the room, Wesker could clear the distance in less time then it took for Chris to say 'holy shit'.

He curled his hands up again into fists, and thrust his hand forward, stepping into the punch. Wesker grabbed his hand, and soon enough he found himself standing there with his arm twisted behind his back. Wesker didn't show any sign of letting up on the pressure, and Wesker then pulled his arm away from his back. Something happened, painhappened.

Crack.

He yelled out in agony as his bone snapped, and Wesker pushed him away to where he stumbled forward and cradled his arm in his other. It had all happened so fast, he hadn't had time to react to it, and now he was one arm short. Chris turned to face Wesker and he grimaced, still holding his broken arm. He didn't know what to do, and prayed that Wesker didn't know that.

Of course he does you dipshit!

Chris caught a glance of the shotgun, still about twenty feet away. But it was his only chance. Another quick glance at Wesker, and he was running toward it at full speed. He turned his attention between the 12-guage and Wesker almost five times before he dived for the shotgun. His hand fell on the stock of it and-crunch.

"Ah!" Wesker's boot came down hard on his hand, and suddenly he was being pulled up. On his way up he groped for the shotgun and found its long barrel. Wesker had him by his neck, and was squeezing ever so hardly; he was grinning at him as he struggled to breathe.

Keep on laughing you son of a bitch!

He gripped the shotgun tight with his good hand-although it hurt like hell- and slammed it into Wesker's ribs, the stock hitting him like a battering ram. Wesker dropped him and backed up, snarling at him-and he swung the shotgun at Wesker with one arm. The stock smacked Wesker in the right temple hard enough to make Wesker stumble backwards. But he didn't stop there. He swung the shotgun again, and again Wesker stumbled back, this time blood oozing from his nose.

"Who laughing now, bastard?" He swung it again-and Wesker seized the stock and pushed it back at him. The end of the barrel smashed his lower jaw and he dropped the shotgun and stumbled back. He spat two bloody teeth to the ground and looked up at Wesker-just in time to meet his fist.

He stumbled further, his nose numb and surely broken. Wesker didn't give him time to recover and delivered a blow to his abdomen, this time the force behind it made him cough up blood as he doubled over-and then pain in his side as Wesker surely distributed a solid shot to his kidney-and then a kick from his boot that made a crunch as ribs snapped under Wesker's combat boot.

"I'm a bastard, but right now your looking more and more like my bitch." Wesker said, laughing his deep laugh. "Time to get this over with." Wesker kicked him in the side of the head and sent to the ground. His head throbbed, his stomach hurt, his nose was probably broke along with his arm, and he lost two teeth, had the imprint of a boot in the side of his face and was down to one kidney.

Wesker was standing over him, looking down on him. He wondered what the deathblow would be. Would he just toss him around a bit? Or maybe stomp his head like a pumpkin? Ah yes, that sounded good.

Go ahead, smash my head in!

Tat-atat-atat-atat

Wesker's body started to shake, started to tremor, as the rattle of M-16 echoed through the large room. When finally I died off, Wesker started to fall forward. He rolled out of the way quickly and Wesker crashed to the floor. Wesker wasn't moving. His back was practically mutilated by bullets, and he prayed that he was dead, and if he was he prayed he'd stay that way this time.

"Chris! Come on!"

He looked over to the doorway and saw Claire motioning for him to follow them. Ada was there to, reloading her M-16. Chris scrambled toward them as quickly as his injured body would allow. Running hurt his ribs, and his kidney ached, and his arm, and his hand, and his jaw, his whole goddamn body hurt like hell.

He was ushered into the room by his sister and she led him to the instrument panel he'd seen before. Immediately he searched for something that could override the launch of the missiles, anything that could have been related to the missiles.

Aha!

There were several buttons that had to have something to do with the missiles. A button marked LAUNCH was what gave the set of buttons that were separated from the others away. There was another button underneath it, marked CANCEL. There were other buttons, but he was pretty sure this was it.

"He's getting back up! Chris, hurry!" Ada screamed just before releasing more M-16 bullets from the doorway into the large room where Wesker was. He smacked the CANCEL button, and a electronic voice spoke. It was just barely audible under the rattle of M-16.

"Please continue cancellation procedure in main control room."

"Where's that?" Chris hollered over the fire, turning frantically toward Ada.

"Fourth floor! I'll take you there! Let's go, Wesker's not moving again!" Ada lowered her M-16 and turned around to run out of the room. "Keep up with me!"

Claire started to follow but he stopped her. "Give me your shotgun." She obeyed, did not question him. He pumped it and aimed it at the control panel. "Let's make sure this can't be used again." And he fired; the buckshot obliterated control panel and he followed Claire out of the room.

1:09:00

Jill understood quickly that he was dead when he took his last dieing breath. The man, Spate, a believed-to-be evil man turned hero lie there now, looking completely and utterly human. He was certainly dead though. His entire body was covered in bruises, his chest in deep gashes.

She heard the M-16 rattle just like everyone else and she stood up. "Let's move." She ordered and everyone else stood. She said a final, and short prayer that his soul would find peace, and started to run down the hall. Adrenaline was rushing through her veins, pounding at her skull. It was the adrenaline rush received during battle, it was what she needed, what she wanted. She would be on a high of adrenaline soon and she'd be seemingly invincible.

The others' footsteps were behind her, and so she picked up the pace seeing as how they could keep up. At the end of the hall she turned to the right, where Spate had said to go-and saw Ada burst out of the room that was probably Wesker's.

"Ada!" She shouted for her, and the Asian woman spun around.

"Follow me!" Ada yelled back simply. She nodded and Ada was running down the hall again-

Boom!

The explosion of a 12-guage shotgun was heard just before Claire and Chris dashed out of the room Ada had come through. She didn't want to know what went on in there, so she followed them. She'd save the questions after all of this was over. A moment later she was through the door that the others had went through, and was following Chris' boots up the steps. Twenty-some steps later and they were through another door and were running down another hall. Up ahead they all stopped, so she did too.

"Who here can pilot a helicopter?" Ada yelled. Chris, and Leon both raised their hands.

"I can, but I'm really fucked up." Chris said, his arm was limp at his side and for the first time she saw how bloodied he was. He looked like shit, what the hell did Wesker do to him?

"I can fly." Steve spoke up. "I'm not the greatest at it, but I've done it before."

"I'll be your co-pilot." Chris spoke up.

"Ok, go up on the roof. There should be three birds with keys in 'em. Get them ready and wait for us. Go!" And they were headed off down the corridor. "Rebecca, give your M-16 to Barry. Barry, Billy and Jill, you three stand watch out here. You see Wesker; you shoot his fucking brains out. Keep him back as long as you can. Jeff, Tara, and Ashley, head up to the rood too. The rest of you, in here!"

Ada was barking out orders like she was the President or something…but it all seemed logical enough. Jill pulled her M-16 off of her shoulder and checked the clip. It was fresh, fully loaded, and ready to 'shoot his fucking brains out'. The others dashed past her and into the room and up to the roof.

1:05:00

He stood up shakily. With every heartbeat, his entire body throbbed. The pain…it was enormous, his back was torn to pieces by bullets…and just how lucky could you be not to have your spinal cord blown out in the process of having about thirty rounds piercing ones back?

He took a shaky step forward and pain surged through his entire body like he was being electrocuted by some outrageous number of volts. It was close to impossible to move now, without the pain-and then there was some dull noise he heard just barely above the pounding of his heart. His back hurt again, and his body began to shiver as something penetrated flesh and muscle. The sound, the one he could barely hear, was the familiar rattle of a assault rifle.

Not much longer could he last. He would die soon; he'd die of pain. He'd suffer right down to his last gurgling breath. He felt something in his chest, like an enormous air bubble, and then crimson dribbled out of his mouth just as the bullets stopped torturing him. He fell to his knees, but his body refused to fall all the way. It didn't want to give up-but he did. He wanted the suffering to end.

Visions of his life flashed before him. Visions of his mother and father came first. Then he saw himself sitting in a bar, members of the S.T.A.R.S. Alpha Team surrounding him. They were laughing and full of glee. Forest was hitting on a young woman, he and Chris were joking, Chickenheart Vickers was sipping water, and the others were laughing and hooting together.

Bam!

The image of Enrico Marini's body jumping as he fired several shots into Enrico for the sake of his mission in Raccoon City. Images of zombies who were people he once knew, shuffling toward him and moaning just before he placed a bullet between their eyes. Then Glitter, as she lay in the Laboratory bleeding, and then her afterwards. Her body encased in chrome, her heart turned cold. Then her dead body that he held only moments earlier…

And now his own blood on the floor as it trickled out of his mouth. He would die now. Maybe…maybe the 'curiosity' that he had, that he claimed made no sense to anyone, would finally go away. Because truthfully, he couldn't understand it either, and maybe God -if there was one- would have mercy on his pitiful soul.

Wesker collapsed, falling forward. The collision of his face and the metal was numb, totally painless because all of his pain was focused on his tattered back. Then the pain started to subside, and his eyes were closing. Those demonic eyes were clouding up-he was dying.

But I can live…

His body jumped as if his heart were being shocked back to life. It jumped again, and life flowed back into him as something else flowed through him. The thing that had saved his life once was returning to do it one more time. He felt the Tyrant Virus move through his vein, attaching to his cells, altering them. There was a bit of pain, but it passed, and he felt…new.

Wesker stood up, at first unsure that he could stand. But when he found that he was perfectly fine he looked down at his hands, unable to believe that the T-Virus was actually saving his life. Was it evolving inside of him? Could it tell that he was dieing, that it's host was dieing?

Of course! The virus needs me to survive, so it will keep reanimating me, it will do whatever necessary to live…

He removed his combat jacket that was torn to shreds in the back, and then his shirt to which was equally mauled. He retrieved his shades from the inside pocket of the jacket tossed both articles of clothing to the side. Placing his sunglasses on his brow, Wesker spun around to face the exit.

Albert Wesker was very much alive.

He took a step forward, and he was already bursting through the door of his private room and was soon speeding down the hall. It seemed that he was flying down the corridor, in a jet that was hitting Mach 3 everything around him speeding by. He saw nothing, and let his body carry him to where they were. He just knew that they were on fourth level, something was telling him this. Four of them were just like him. They'd be the ones he'd dispose of first. One was on the roof, the other three inside the main control room. They were trying to deactivate the missile launch. His controls in his private room were broken, so he'd have to launch the missiles from this one…just as soon as he killed everyone that got in his way.

Wesker stopped, his body halting as he reached the fourth floor-and bullets started to riddle his body. They penetrated, blossoms of crimson spraying out of his torso. But they didn't work, and the wounds were already being mended. The T-Virus worked to reconstruct and replace the dead muscle and skin cells. He laughed and continued forward at a slow, intimidating pace as their useless weapons only left tiny scars on him.

1:01:00

Rebecca was standing beside Ada as the Asian woman punched keys on a control panel. Claire was on the other side of Ada, also watching her press buttons and skim over the messages that popped up on the small screen on the control panel.

"I'm in!" Ada finally said and grinned slightly. "I just need to cancel the launch and we can get the hell out of here!"

Hurry, Ada! She thought as she watched Ada punch in more keys. Her heart was racing, and the adrenaline was pumping. She could hardly believe that this was actually the end of it all. But one question remained on her mind…was this actually the end? If they didn't kill Wesker but still disarmed those missiles, he could still try the same thing over again. Maybe there really was no real way to stop evil…

"Fuck! This might-" The rattle of M-16 in the corridor outside drowned out Ada's voice. Ada took a glance back at the door and then turned back to the screen, starting to type feverishly.

"This might what?" Claire demanded, asking what Rebecca was going to.

"I have to hack into the system. It's denying me access!" Ada continued typing and Rebecca took a big breath and swallowed hard. This wasn't good. "FUCK!" Ada repeated and smacked the keys in anger and frustration.

The rattle of M-16 continued and she wondered what they were all shooting at. What could Wesker have released this time? Some super-monster? A goddamn Tyrannosaurus Rex? She started to get jumpy as she hypothesized what was happening out there. She pictured a large T-Rex creature with two heads and three large tails, topped off with some sort of nuclear-powered cannons replacing its arms.

Let's hope not, Becca. She told herself and looked back at the door. But the door wasn't there, and when she turned back to tell Ada-she wasn't there. Claire was staring in horror at something that Rebecca was hesitant to find. But she did anyways after a very short speculation held inside her head. A blonde-haired man was holding Ada by her neck, had her raised at least two feet off of the ground. He was squeezing hard, and Ada was flailing to get out of his grip.

Bam!

A round from Claire's handgun hit the man in his right shoulder blade, but he didn't even turn to look at them. He continued to choke Ada-continued to slowly kill her. There was a metallic clang as the nine-millimeter bullet, which was lodged in his back, fell to the floor and the wound closed. She realized then, that this was no man. He was far from being a man.

"Wesker! Put her down you bastard!" Claire shouted and shot three more rounds. Again, there was the same result as before. He didn't turn, didn't pay any acknowledgement to them, and the bullets fell to the floor in unison. Ada continued to flail in his hand, and she could see her face actually turning purple.

She's gonna die!

She shot at him, continued to shoot until her clip-her last clip-ran dry. All fifteen rounds dropped to the ground, plus a few more that Claire had lodged into him in the meantime. An idea occurred to her, formed quickly in her mind and she unattached a flash bang from her belt and threw it. The grenade landed perfectly at his feet and she shielded her eyes just before it exploded into a brilliant light that filled the room.

When she opened her eyes again she saw that the man was still holding her. She hadn't seen his shades. Rebecca cursed herself and thought about what she could do, how she could save Ada-

Crack

Everything seemed to go silent, although everything already was, she just tuned out. Nothing seemed alive anymore. time seemed to halt. That noise was too familiar, it was the sound she heard when she would twist a zombies neck to its breaking point. Her heart stopped beating, and it felt like there was a concrete block in her chest.

Finally time resumed and the man dropped Ada. She wasn't moving-she was dead.

"Come on!" She turned toward the door and saw Billy motioning for her to follow him. Tears swelled up in her eyes but she nodded. They couldn't avenge Ada's death, not when they were going up against that thing. Claire sped past her and she followed. She didn't look back, just kept running, kept her tear-filled eyes focused on the path ahead of her.

Ada…

1:02:00

Not everyone had a purpose in life, which was an unmistakably true statement. But that didn't mean that those people were useless. No one was useless, but some just weren't born to change anything. They were just living life. But there were those who were meant to bring change to the world. Or make history, or something more then that.

Right now, he was sure that he wasn't just here for any reason. There was one thing he was born to do, and damn it he planned to do it. No matter how much he hurt, no matter how many things were working against him, he'd do it. He would do it so that he could die knowing that he made a difference. That was something that not many people did. Although many would live to make a difference in another's life, only few lived to make a difference in the world.

Clutched in his left hand, his other was useless because it was broke, was a message that he meant to give them if things went bad. He'd get it to them because he knew it would make a difference in what was to come. Wesker was still alive, probably stronger then ever…

Ping.

Spate forced himself to his feet, and regretted ever sitting down because now the pain in his legs were coming back. One was broken so he dragged it along, and unfortunately for him there were ribs broken on the side of his good leg. All of that pressure on his ribs really hurt, and for all he knew they were probably stabbing into his organs. It felt as if his right collarbone was broken too, and his head hurt really bad and there was blood running down the back of it. At least four teeth were missing; he could feel the gaps with his tongue. His nose may have been broken; there was a cut over his right eyebrow, which made it hard to see because blood was pouring down his face.

Spate forced himself through the elevator doors and started down the hall. Further down the T-shaped hall the corridor turned left, straight ahead was the door that led to the roof. He continued his painful walk down the hall toward that door. When he reached it he heard, in unison, fully automatic rifles a floor down. That meant that Wesker wasn't far away…

Spate opened the door and started through the narrow hall that lead directly to a short flight of steps that would lead to a door that would open up to the roof. He tripped about halfway up the stairs, and cracked his knee painfully on the metal steps. Pulling himself up with the help of the handrail, he continued up the stairs.

When he finally got out on the roof, he saw that one of the five helicopters were starting up so he gripped the paper tighter so that he wouldn't lose it and limped his way across the roof toward the helicopter that was starting up. With his focus on that helicopter, and living until he got there, he didn't see the man just to his right until he yelled out to him.

"Freeze!" The man yelled and Spate turned to look at him. It was the U.S Agent, Leon Kennedy. He knew this one well because Wesker was always saying the man was very troublesome while trying to retrieve the Plaga Sample.

"Mr. Ken-" He coughed violently, it hurt to speak. "-Kennedy, please…Take this." He held his hand out, in it was the paper that he gripped tightly. "Things are…" He stopped to take a deep breath that hurt like his broken ribs were stabbing his lungs. "Things are getting very bad Mr. Kennedy…please…take it." His good leg started feeling like rubber, his arms felt distant but he still held the paper firmly. He collapsed, his good leg giving out under him, but he didn't hit the ground because Leon Kennedy caught him.

"Don't talk, just rest." Leon told him. But Spate was stubborn.

"There is an anti-virus…the co- coordinates are there…" And the world turned black.

Billy led the group through the door and to the roof. The muffled sounds he heard before were now booming in his ears. It was the sound of the birds. Their propellers were spinning, kicking up dust and creating artificial gusts of wind. This was familiar to him, and brought back memories of his military days- days that he'd much rather not remember. After he witnessed that village being slaughtered by his own comrades…

"This way!" Billy looked toward one of the helicopters, and saw it was Steve who was yelling just above the roar of the 'copters. He ran toward Steve who ushered him into the helicopter. Already seated inside were Jeff and Tara. Billy climbed in, Rebecca and Claire piled in after him.

As he settled, Rebecca looked at him with eyes full of sadness. "Ada is dead…"

He didn't reply to that, he only gazed at the roof that the helicopter was sitting on. So many people had come and gone during the last seven years. So many that death really didn't seem as emotional as it should be. It was just like another everyday experience, actually… It seemed cruel to be in that state of mind but-

A noise, no a roar that drowned out the helicopter broke him from his thoughts. The noise was accompanied by a tremor, and moments later that tremor was accompanied by a flash of light that ascended into the dark night sky. Accompanying that light was two others, and he understood that they had failed.

Everything that had been done over the last seven years was for nothing. All of it tossed aside, no recognition for their struggles at all. The deaths were all for nothing, Ada's, Spate's, and so many innocent people…they all died in vain. Soon, like Glitter had explained, the world would be covered with the Virus. Every living thing would be infected; those that didn't catch it in the first days would catch it eventually. Whether it is from the kid down the street, or his or her own mother-ultimately the population would be cut down drastically. How many wars would be waged against the dead and the living before the dead prevailed?

"Oh no…"

Billy turned to Rebecca, and saw that she was looking out at the roof door where a shirtless, blonde-haired man stood. The man –Wesker- was laughing. Not only did they fail the world, they were going to die now. Suddenly there was more clatter above the drone of the chopper, and he saw that Wesker's body was shaking violently. Billy stood up and went to the door less entryway into the copter and looked out to see that the helicopter manned by Leon was releasing a seemingly endless stream of rounds on Wesker. The rounds were beyond powerful; they were huge 30 MM rounds that were being rocketed out of one of two chain guns attached to the helicopter.

Suddenly there was a bit of a jerk that made him almost lose his balance and the helicopter was lifting up into the air. The rattle of the chain guns stopped, and Wesker looked as if he were splattered in red paint. Slowly though, the blossoms of red disappeared, and from here he looked practically unscathed.

Shhhh-

Billy snapped his neck toward Leon's own airborne chopper. He saw light trailing from the 'copter-

Boom!

The roof around Wesker collapsed as flames engulfed it. Concrete and fire flew high into the air, but before all could settle another explosion rocked the building. The birds hovered over the roof until the smoke cleared, and when it did he understood that there was no way Wesker could pick himself back up, unless he did it one piece at a time of course.

Flames burned around the collapsed roof, and as the helicopter moved closer to the crater it revealed that literally tons of concrete and metal had fallen into the hole, practically filling it up. But even though Wesker was deader then shit, none rejoiced. It was inevitable; maybe it was the fate of the world.

"Leon says there's still a chance." Steve said from the pilot seat, his voice barely audible above the sounds of the helicopter.

"Don't give everyone false hope." Chris said, anger loud and clear in his voice. "We're all fucked, the goddamn world is fucked. There ain't nothing we can do now, except sit back and pray our asses off."

"Spate gave him a handwritten note that said there were antiviruses being produced in mass amounts in a underground laboratory in Utah. He gave me the coordinate too…even has passwords and the like. We should at least check it out." Steve explained, almost urging for Chris to agree to go.

"We can't get the antiviruses to everyone in time, no way." Chris responded flatly. "Forget about it."

"Leon said their packed inside a bunch of missiles, just like what Wesker launched. If we can get the antiviruses to scatter around in the air, we might be able to destroy the T-Virus…" Steve retorted. Urge and fear now mixing in his voice.

"What about the Plaga?" Chris asked.

"There's a antiviral for that too."

"…I guess we do have one last hope…Ok then, we can just…check it out at least." Chris finally gave in, and Billy sighed in relief. If they could do something, they had to at least try… He just hoped they wouldn't encounter anything other then a few dumbass zombies.

"That's a affirmative, Mr. Kennedy, Captain Redfield has given thego-ahead. I'll follow you. ETA…like…a few hours. Lets go!" Steve seemed a bit overjoyed. Maybe he was just trying to keep the mood positive.

Billy sat down next to Rebecca and held her in his arms. He tilted his head backwards and closed his eyes. They would be there faster if he did this…and darkness engulfed him.

A/N: I think that this whole chapter could have been better but I'm really preoccupied lately with school. Or maybe just the end is chapter, I'm not sure but it could be a bit better. Probably a little fast-paced or whatever.

Alright, well, please review, and I'll see y'all at the next chapter.

PEACE