Play Dead

by The Tentacle Commander

An angsty M read: very adult rated lemon Nemesis x Jill possibly OOC fic set after the events of RE3. Told in the POV of Nemesis. How would you'd react if eveything you were made for was a looming failure?

Play Dead

By DarkSaturn7

(One shot, PWP/ very angsty song fic?)

Just letting you know this is a Nemesis/Jill fic (haven't found many in this paring so I'd figured here you go and I'm a horrible Nemmy perv.). This is purely lemon so if sex, sex with B.O.W.s, (in fact this fic has a lot of hard elements) or if hard core shagging squicks you - steer clear. I'd give it an M-MA rating.

Anyway I proclaim I do not own any of these ppl (not even Nemmy) so Capcom please don't eat me! I'm poor! (Damn student loans) Just a random story I had in mind for awhile. This song (of the fics namesake) pretty much is a side inspiration for this fic. Sorry I tried to not get angsty, but damn it, if a 7 foot tall B.O.W. wants to be angsty, then let him do it! ;)

I can't take this. This world, this city, you. I just can't. You frustrate me; you are the representation of the failure of everything I was made for. You are walking proof that I am a failure. The center of what I exist for, and yet still you are, walking around as if nothing's wrong. I hate you...it's like you mock me by merely living. And I can see the same feelings in your eyes as well. We are both walking representations of each others failure. I'm just willing to admit it.

I was supposed to die back there, in that dead city. Left with one mission, the one thing I was made and born for; to chase you down; to have your head. But I wasn't stupid enough to think my handlers would retrieve me from that town marked for termination. I knew that to them I was expendable, and so my span was to be short. So in essence with your death would be mine as well. I knew and understood this. But I figured, if I'm going to die, why not play it by my terms? I procrastinated, letting you barely escape, feel safe and yet not, the cat toying with the mouse. It felt exciting to me; to intentionally prolong your death, to for once be in control. Even beyond just prolonging…I kind liked your company; you was the only one was worth my time amongst these cowardly civilians and survivors…flesh covered pigs ready to be slaughtered on a whim. You...excited me. Pinning you down, tossing you about...just excited me. Half the times you escaped I had to relieve my tension afterwards. At first I'd kill some random creature for release. But the more I encountered you, the more I needed to feel…satisfied. Eventually I went in dark corners away from them…and would stroke myself. At first it was just a private moment with myself, until…you accidentally discovered me. You didn't say a word; just ran from me. But every time we fought afterwards, you were different. You would press closer to me, as if trying to arouse me on purpose. This only made me hate you more. You exploiting my weakness infuriated me, making me even more frustrated. A horrible looping circle of cause and effect in essence. Most of it was the fact that I couldn't have you in that way, and that even if I could, we were to all die anyway; there was to be no happy ending. And I knew you understood what I was doing, what you were doing, playing your role to perfection. But I hadn't expected you to win. No, that moment in the compactor… you were to die then and to complete my mission, my given role. No, you decided then to betray the rules and truly fight back. As I fell into darkness, as I lost all shape and mind, all I could recall was me futilely trying to kill you in such a bloated mass. I was aware of my grotesque state, and still I fought, not to win now but to find my end. I prayed for if not completion, then for death. To know I've failed was too much to bear. When the barrel of your gun was in my eye, when you promised I'd see stars, I hoped it was true. And as blackness hit me it seemed so.

But… damn this body? Apparently I was built to withstand many things. And the dip into waste material only made me more durable, even to survive a nuclear strike. I woke up 'normal', or in this human-esque shell in a pile of rubble. I somehow found my clothing (how it survived either is beyond me but I'm not one to question that luck) and managed to sneak out of the area. Trucks with the Umbrella corp. symbol were around, probably to search the area for any surviving incriminating evidence before the government does. I wanted to die yes, but not as a random botched test subject for them. In a sense they were failures too, for creating, neglecting these flaws in me.

So I slipped away, through the back alleys, the sewers, away from sight. I eventually set up shop in an abandoned part of a town near the lost one…watching, waiting on what I should do next. I would find you…at least in finding you I would validate my self, or so I planned. Nights of searching in the shadows in this quiet town, tracing your name, your steps…I found you living in fear. You were hiding as well from them, your hopes of destroying them a lost memory. You destroyed their factories in one town yes, but they have many, in almost every continent, every country, state…it was insane to take on something that bigger than you. And so your name on every wanted list you hide, running away like me.

But unlike them, I was more determined (but then they were very inept creatures anyway), and eventually found you alone at home. Do you know how long it took to find you? Living in such a nondescript, little house in the middle of nowhere. How quaint. I broke into your home; I waited until your back was turned…ah how amusing it was to see the shock on your face! It was priceless. You dumbfounded, alone, and unarmed…not exactly the way I wanted you but hey it still was rather …amusing. I remember you reached for a broom of all things, trying to fight back. I merely let you swing and watched it splinter with the force. I then grabbed you by the throat and pinned her on the wall. I wanted so hard to laugh in your face, but you was still quick on the draw and kneed me in the groin. I doubled over and mentally vowed you would pay dearly for that. You tried to run down the hall, but I still had enough in me to grab your leg. You were now pinned under me…and as I reached my hand back to punch your face in; it occurred to me the suggestiveness of this position. And that you were eyeing me not in fear, but an emotion I couldn't quite read. Come out and say it! Tell me what's going on in that little head of yours! But…you did something I didn't expect you to. You reached up and licked me across my teeth. Not like a dog, but slowly, letting your lips trail on my sharp permanently exposed canines. You trailed kisses as you tentatively let one hand trail on the stitches on my scalp. One trailed the tentacle on my neck. It felt so warm all of a sudden…again I feel aroused, but even more that with indirect contact. If this is to be a distraction, it was doing a damn fine job of it. You start to stroke my jacket, as if the mere feel of it is bliss. Your body is pressed against me now; there was no question of the heat packed inside someone so small.

But I'm not one to be led like a horse. No, I do the leading, no one else. I push you down to the floor a look of surprise on your face. You were wearing merely a night robe, your darker panties showing clear as day underneath. I've never seen you so underdressed before, and just adds to the growing want in me. I lean down and through your gaping mouth, slide my tongue in. It was so warm in there, so hot. Your tongue and mine fight for dominance, one turning one way, the other countering. Even in something so intimate, the need to fight is always there. As if fighting is the real turn on here. Is that it, that physical pain is what excited us both? Tongues are clashing, bending, with each twist one or both plunge deeper into the others mouth. I hadn't moved since pinning you, but I felt you slide all the more closer, under me. It was like your body was pulling me in, writhing me in to you. Ah, you're trying to get the better of me even in this small movement. I pull you completely under me, making your face easier to reach, and truly pinning you down. Hands were roaming now, where I recall not as I felt lost again, lost like on the dark streets…until I felt your hand trace lower, through my coat top, pulling on the belt that held my pants; making me pant in want, then stopping, tracing back upwards to my chest. I felt you slowly drag her nails across, almost hurting me…We were on this tough carpet, but neither really cared at this point. All I recall was that we could've being on hot flaming concrete and it wouldn't have fazed us. No, all that mattered was you, so needy, lying under me. Flush with this slow kiss I slid my tongue out; in the process letting my teeth merely graze your lower lip. A small trail of blood followed leaving traces also on your lip. I traced my tongue on your lip to taste more of that copper, before filling your warm mouth again. I felt your soft hands fumbling around my coat, trying to find the clasp. I quickly reached for them and pinned them over your head. Just because I have you like this, doesn't mean I'm going to be gentle. I thought for a long time what I would do to you if I had the choice of not outright killing you. I had many dark thoughts, and planned to not disappoint myself. The taste of your blood fresh on my tongue, I decided that I wanted more, more…I traced circles around your nape, leaving a thin train of saliva. You arched into the sensation- this must be a sensitive spot- moaning deeply. I then removed my tongue, and sank my teeth slightly into your pale skin. You audibly gasped trying to fight the hands that strongly held you down. But it seemed instead of moving your head away; you pushed your neck closer, closer to my mouth. I pulled away; my teeth definitely stained in blood, and started to lick the indentation in the broken skin. I could smell the anti viral elements in your blood, one of the few humans immune to me. Which made it all the better as I can play with you without holding back. That and the competing strain with my own left a nice tingly feel to your skin. I would lick deeper into the wound, probing it and watching you writhe in a mix of true pleasure and pain. I removed one hand, letting you get closer to my face. You again, licked across my face, coating yourself with your own blood.

My free hand did no favors to your gown, and ripped it to shreds with a simple pull. Your skin glistened in the shadowy dark, traces of sweat pooling off your form. I let my nails slide down your side, to your breasts, tracing their shape and form. The fearful and sensual gasps you were making were so delicious, ah, but tasting you is so much better. I followed that hand with my tongue, leaving a trail of red in my wake. I let my teeth come viciously close to your nipple, hearing you gasp in a mix of fear and want. I let my tongue swirl around the nipple, the areola, the curve of the whole breast, leaving the taste of both your blood and sweat in my memory. My hand still traveled lower, to the curves of your hips, your ass, the swell of your legs; I wanted to touch everything, to feel what creature was able to best me so soundly. So soft…so damnably soft…

I sat up releasing you from my grasp, and took off my trench coat top. Damn, so you did leave marks, impressive for a human. Writhing on my chest there were also tentacles that ran everywhere on my person. They snaked and writhed for my command. They were as sensitive any other part of my body, but also took at lot of mental concentration to wield many at a time. I took off the rest of my clothing to sit entirely nude in front of you. I could see the mixed expression of lust and disdain on your face, but then you…you started this, it's too late to stop now. I then reached for the only piece of clothing left on you, your dark panties, done in a skimpy thong style. I pulled them up to your calves, and then bent your legs over your head. I took this moment to slide my finger down your vaginal opening, then bringing it back to my mouth. You tasted so tart, the best taste yet from you. A tentacle snaked out, stimulating you to wetness. Through your legs you looked up at me, wondering what I was going to do; I merely licked my teeth, and plunged the snaking appendage in. Your back arched as I probed your insides, slowly at first, enjoying the wet sound it made as it entered you. You tried to reach my hand but I anticipated this and two tentacles snaked around your wrists firmly, pinning you back down. No, again I control this, not you…humph. You look so worried down there…how amusing, maybe I should give you a 'distraction'…another tentacle slid to the side of your face, and catching you off guard filled your mouth. I leaned downwards and lapped at your exposed clit. The sensation of being penetrated like this must not be entirely bad as I could feel you moaning around the tentacle in your mouth.

I then started to lap around your folds, around the tentacle that slowly leaked out more of your fluids with each thrust, lifting up your thong bound legs to get a better angle with one hand. My other hand decided to slide slowly down your back, between your round ass cheeks, to your other opening. I spread your cheeks open, exposing your puckered entrance. I felt you tense up…but still continued to stroke your entrance, stimulating the area. I lifted your legs up higher, and brought my tongue down, lightly rimming you. Your body started to relax as I made it known I wouldn't rush this. No, not yet anyway. My tongue probed sometimes dipping deeper, teasing your entrance, wetting it with my saliva. As you relaxed, the more I pushed myself in. I could hear you now, muffled with the tentacle in your mouth, but still writhing against my tongue. This emboldened me to finally push it all in, effectively fucking you with my tongue. Your body jerked and writhed, the sensation of being fucked in every opening must be intense for you. And rimming you wasn't all that bad either for me. I withdrew my tongue, and the tentacle in your mouth. You let out an audible whine, missing the feeling of being filled. I merely chuckled. The still wet tentacle from your mouth slid between your ass cheeks, and deliberately, slowly penetrated you. The cry of pain you let out as it filled you almost had me losing it right there. To see you in pain, to give pain, to give and take it all from you, is it that what excites me?

As both your lower entrances were filled I lowered your legs down, and leaned over your prone form, lapping across your face. Your eyes were slited in ecstasy, and your features were covered in a sheer film of sweat. Well, I can't have one hole empty now can I? I sat back up on my knees, and extended my right palm out. A tentacle snaked out between your breasts, softly brushing your face, and replaced the one formerly in your mouth. You moan around it at the heavy stimulation your body was receiving. To think that tentacle was the one that killed your associate; do you even consider that I could kill you at any turn? At this moment you're sucking it as if it was her mission…my mission, you're a failed mission …does it always feel this good to fail? I started to stroke myself, the vision of seeing you triple penetrated, and the sensations from my tentacles were making me have to relieve myself. It felt so deliciously warm to feel you all at once. Ah, but can I hold out like this? You seem so close and I want still more.

No, this won't do. I removed the tentacles in your cunt, and mouth. Again with that cute noise of protest. Don't worry; I won't leave you waiting for long. I leaned over you, pulling off your battered panties, freeing, and then spreading your legs. I then thrust myself inside your opening, having to steady myself afterward from the intense wash of sensation. It didn't help that you made an audible sharp gasp as I entered. I again caught your mouth, and at once, was thrusting in to all your openings again. I took you slow, deeply, wanting to feel everything you were keeping from me. The sadist in me loved your gasps of mingled pain, but yet knew you wouldn't have wanted it any other way. I darkly growled in your ear, feeling you shiver underneath; your tight hands merely gripping harder around my waist, again always egging it on, always pushing me…and in return you moaned deeper into my ear… We both were gripping each other, wanting more, needing more friction. As I thrust again and again in you, something occurred to me. I wasn't the one in control here. Every sensation, want, even this whole event even was in some turn initiated by you. Always you, doing this to me. Is this what it was? Anger at your control of me? As I started to get warmer and lost, I felt that same frustration, the same drive that drove me to hunt you. I realized that this power, attachment you had over me was why I failed. Why I couldn't kill you. Well, I can kill you right now! You're lying there at my mercy! I could, I should, I can redeem myself by just killing you, bitch! But then…you look up at me, and again I'm lost in you, lost thinking, touching, needing you…and then everything pinpricks...the faint feeling of spending myself in you, of you gasping and clutching me tight from inside…

I awoke to you lying on the floor, looking up in thought. Slight confusion marked your features. I looked around at the sticky mess we made, to straight in your eyes, and saw a look of both need and anger. Are you angry? At what? You started it! Or is it the fear that you wanted it as much as I? Hatred at your own failings; your feelings. You're just like me, wanting and loathing the very things we can't have. I understood this is as best a resolution for that hate I would ever get. I pull on my clothing, and then start to turn for the door. But I felt your hand on my back, and so I turn to face your. You whisper, 'I hate you. I hate your presence. You disgust me, and yet…I can't bear to see you leave. Not yet. Please. Don't.' I was…surprised by your blunt request. You're used to having me over your shoulder too? 'I need to live…and since I've failed, I've been alone, abandoned by my team as a coward...and have been dead since. You keep me, even at my worst, alive. Even if it's just hatred, at least I can live with that. Please don't leave.' I didn't know what to say to that (not that I really could with no lips). I walked to you, and carry you to bed. I couldn't leave…either. You still control me without even touching. The one thing on the earth that kept me alive was you. Even if it was just rage, it still was a feeling, a proof that I was alive, and needed to be. You became my true mission; my reason, my enslaver. I hate you still…and that is enough for me to have that back in return.

………………………………………………………………………………………………

darling stop confusing me
with your wishful thinking
hopeful embraces
don't you understand?
i have to go through this
i belong to here where
no-one cares and no-one loves
no light no air to live in
a place called hate
the city of fear

i play dead
it stops the hurting
i play dead
and hurting stops

it's sometimes just like sleeping
curling up inside my private tortures
i nestle into pain
hug suffering
caress every ache

i play dead
it stops the hurting

-"Play Dead" by Bjork