Resident Evil: Evanescent Dreams
Disclaimer: I do not own the characters related to Resident Evil. Any similarities between monsters in my story and someone else's is completely a coincidence.
Eleven
Doug runs across the street, dodging cars and the ever-present bus, to reach his apartment.
He slams into the door and screams, "Kid?! You in here?"
He hears the kid's voice in the bathroom, "Yeah, what's it to ya'?"
Doug sighs and walks toward his bedroom, placing his coat on the rack, water pouring from its pockets.
"Ok, I say we got three hours until Umbrella sends a clean-up crew after you."
Doug spins around at the voice and stutters, "Aya? What are you doing here?"
Aya flicks some strands of auburn hair from her face and says, "My friends want your services. We need all the info you have on Fusion."
Doug sighs loudly and replies, "Hand me my laptop, I got to keep Umbrella from checking out Trudie."
Aya looks up and asks, "What about Krueger?"
Doug frowns and says, "Gone. Fusion2.0 got to him."
Aya looks at her feet and sighs heavily.
!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Trudie stands face-to-face with the one thing she never wanted to see with a half-empty clip: one of the creatures. She lifts up the gun and walks forward, thankful its eyes are closed. She places the barrel firm against its forehead and pulls the trigger.
The gun booms and the round ricochets off the steel floor, "Oh no."
She runs forward, but a claw clips her boot, sending her face first into said steel floor. She lands on her left arm and she screams in pain, her whole body being wracked with the sudden intensity of the pain. She throws her right arm forward, but another creature steps on her arm, its head twisting back and forth almost as if to tell her 'no'. She clenches her teeth, but the growl that envelopes the hall isn't hers, nor the creatures'. She looks down the hall, as do the creatures, and watches the shadows from the corner converge into a form, human form. It walks toward them and holds out its palm, something long and skinny slithering out.
NO!!! screams Trudie's mind as she stumbles back, the creatures turning their full gaze to the form.
It laughs, well more like growls, and runs at them, the tentacle slapping the walls with each step. It raises its arm and drops it down, the tentacle tearing the first creature in half. Without missing a beat, it tears through the last one, blood coating Trudie's face. The form bends down and looks up at her, the faint light revealing its features.
The face is the same, but the skin-color, texture, and look has changed, but it's still Krueger.
Trudie walks toward him and says, "Krueger? It's me, Trudie."
He growls and pins her against the wall, the pain from her broken shoulder growing as he tightens his grip. He leans in and sniffs, his nostrils flaring wildly.
His voice is strangled and throaty, but he says, "Trudie..."
He snorts loudly and runs down the hall, leaving Trudie with the two dead creatures. She sighs heavily, then she takes off after him.
She rounds a corner and faces a long, empty hall, "Shit. Where did he go?"
She kicks the wall and watches the blood puddle around the corner, the blood cast orange in the yellow light. She looks down the hall and holds back the tears, regretting this whole endeavor.
!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
"Was that Krueger?" asks Aya as she steps back from the laptop.
Doug turns from the case and says, "Get the kid, I'm heading back to America. And yes, that was Krueger. Stress on the 'was'."
Aya nods and walks into the living room of the apartment.
She returns a few minutes later with the kid and his bag, "Let's go."
Doug looks up and asks, "You coming too?"
Aya smiles and says, "Well yeah, I came here to drop off a little 'surprise' at HCF. My boyfriend is back in Ohio. So, we leaving?"
Doug smiles and says, "Yeah sure. Damn, I will miss this place."
Aya smiles and the three of them walk out, leaving the fake apartment behind.
Doug looks down at the kid and asks, "Say, what's your name anyway?"
The kid smiles and says, "You'll figure it out."
Doug sighs and stops a taxi, which is odd, Paris taxis never stop for him.
How is Trudie doing?
"Ah shit, forgot the laptop."
Trudie stands in the large room and screams to her heart's content, not stopping until her screams turn to sobs. She falls onto her knees and clasps her hands onto her face, sliding them down. She balls her fists up and slams them down onto the steel floor, screaming with each hit. When the floor where her fists hit is covered in blood, Trudie falls back onto her back, thoughts of the whole 'mission' racing through her mind.
Why call us? The D.C. Swat is better-trained than we are! What the hell is up with Umbrella!? Wait...
"Uncle Don. . . He worked with Umbrella. How could I forget?"
Trudie stumbles to her feet and looks at the last door she will probably see and walks to it, most of her fear gone, almost evanescent in feel. When she begins to think about, everyone on the team had someone related with Umbrella.
"Krueger's brother, Brian's Aunt, and Ben's father. But why would they send their only relatives into this hellhole?" stammers Trudie as she walks around the room, looking at the pictures nailed to the walls.
Pictures of the scientists, but dressed up as the rig-workers, most of them group photos, with both the scientists and workers mixed in, line the walls.
She stops at the only single-shot and reads the name inscribed in the corner, "Steven Evans."
She picks the picture from the wall and examines the facial features, a habit developed from the police force she was once on.
"The brow-shape, the nose, and those eyes! Dr. Steven Evans is the new Hulk-creature! How did this happen? Oh my god..."
She drops the picture and moves on to another one, "Who's going to notice anyway?"
She picks up the last one and arches an eyebrow at one of the people in the photograph, "It's Krueger! Wait it's his brother. They look exactly alike. Is that my uncle behind him? Hello! It's our relatives."
She frowns at her uncle and slams it into the wall, watching as the glass covers the ground.
She bends down and picks up the picture, folds it, then slides it into her boot, her finger sliding over something small, cold, and excitingly familiar, "There is no way in hell that I forgot that."
She pulls it out and tosses the combat knife between her hands, the blade colored metallic-red from all the blood. She looks for the axe handle and grabs it, then takes off one of her bootlaces. She ties the combat knife to the pole and holds it up, the weight comforting somewhat.
!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
I'm sorry Krueger...
The thought reached him from the other side of his humanity, Trudie said that, but from where? The being that was once Krueger stands up and jumps through the hole, following the path of the Hulk-creature in reverse. He lands on the top floor and pries the doors open to the drill-bit. Water gushes past him, but he doesn't move, then he begins to swim up, his powerful legs propelling him forward, one more pro of the virus mutation.
He looks at the bodies floating in the water and has vague memories of the people when they were zombies. He stops swimming upward and looks down at the shaded area covered by the bit, a few scraggly tentacles flailing slowly. Tentacles fly from his own back and attach to the walls of the tunnel. He sucks in water, the sides of his neck slitting into gills, and screams loudly, the sound muted and bubbles flying upward. The creature under the bit stirs and swims out, the form of none other than the second Hulk-creature. The figure that was Krueger smiles and swims down, his opponent doing the same.
This is going to be fun!
!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Trudie stumbles around as the ground shakes, something in the drill-tunnel slamming into the side of said tunnel.
"Krueger? But what is he fighting?" asks Trudie to no one but the dead zombie crumpled in the corner, a bullet hole pierced neatly into its forehead.
Another quake sends her into the wall, her left arm slamming hard against it, sending fresh waves through her tired and beaten form. She screams and clasps her right hand on her arm, bad move, as it sends fiercer pains through her body, causing her knees to buckle. The knife-pole clattering to the floor loudly. She leans against the wall and takes in shallow and quick breaths, each one sending pain through her chest.
Aw fuck it, I probably won't survive anyway. So why keep it?
Trudie places the knife-edge to her shoulder, and with one deep breath, pushes down, slicing the arm off. She screams in pain and curls up into the fetal position on the floor. She places all her strength onto the shoulder and tries to stop the bleeding. With what stamina she has left, she pries the sleeve from her severed arm off and ties it around the nub that was once her shoulder. Her breaths come in gasps as she passes into unconsciousness, the loss of pain pleasant and not that surprising.
!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Krueger slams his fists into the second Hulk-creature's face and begins to slice into its skin with his tentacles. The Hulk-creature roars is disapproval and wraps thirteen tentacles around Krueger's body. The sudden tension around his waist causes him to swallow a huge amount of seawater. His gills process it and he smiles, a few tentacles wrapping around his arm, forming a javelin-like piercing utensil. He pulls his right arm back and swims toward the creature, what little sanity he has left cursing the slow-motion.
He jams it into the creature's head, the body straightening out and floating up. Krueger sits on its stomach and rides it up, the blood forming a red cloud in the light. Krueger breathes in the water and sighs contently, leaning on the floating head. His thoughts race to Trudie and he jumps at the door, using his shoulder to break it open. Water floods the hall as Krueger walks down it, his mind locked on Trudie, the word settling his anger and malice.
!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Trudie finally awakens to the sound of something breathing in her ear. She opens her tired eyes and figures out the sound is a busted pipe hissing past her face. She lifts up her right arm and rubs her eyes, the blood dried and the leather-bandage swelled from the clotted blood. She picks up the knife and pokes a hole in the bandage, thick blood pouring out, adding to the crimson stain on the steel floor.
"Why did I do that?" asks Trudie to herself, the question rhetoric and stupid.
She shrugs it off and sluggishly stands to her feet, her knees buckling once or twice, but a hand to the wall fixes that. When she's on her feet, she picks up her knife-pole, leans it on her shoulder, and walks down the hall. She opens the light-blue double doors and steps onto what is left of the helipad, the afternoon sunlight refreshing to her tired body. She looks at the missing sections of the asphalt and remembers the battle that happened here not even six hours ago: Her broken shoulder, Major Legacy, and Krueger... The soulless look to his eyes as he engaged in fierce battle with the second Hulk-creature. What scared her the most was how all the symptoms for the virus were there, how quickly his wounds healed, how fast he could recuperate, and the hearing loss.
It was all there! How could I not see it?
Trudie ejects the thought with such force it brings an instant migraine to her forehead. She falls to her knees and vomits on the asphalt, stomach fluid flying from her lips.
Breakfast felt so long ago, Wait, it was long ago. About, what was it, over a day?
She checks her watch and reads the date and time to herself, "July 23rd, 2010. 3:45pm. Damn, I've been here longer that I thought."
She pulls out the picture and reads the note on the back, "Death and all things life related, are inevitable. We live a cycle, Birth, Growth, and Death. Cycles are supposed to end, but some can be broken, is your cycle complete, or never-ending? Man, that's crazy."
She thinks about when a solitary screech echoes above her. Her head shoots up and she sees a plane fly overhead, seven solitary parachutes opening. What is Umbrella sending now?
Guess it isn't over, huh? Who are the people in the plane? Check back in ahwile to find out.