Revised for your reading pleasure as of 09/05/07
Also, I changed Luke's name to José. Because generic names are fun.
oAo
………….
………….gurgle SPLURT!
"Eeew…" Leon looked down at his feet and saw that someone or something had vomited blood all over his Reebok shoes. (Damnit, and I bought these special for this mission…just like my jacket…ARRRRGH!) Before the agent could react…..
"OH LEON YOUR SOOOO HOTT!"
Leon's eyes widened in shock as a pair of dirt stained hands reached out and grabbed him by his arms and was trying to pull him inside. The brunette tried to break free, but what ever the hell thought that he was 'HOTT' had an iron grip of death on him and wasn't about to give up so easily. Quickly Leon pulled out his knife and with one quick flick of the wrist he easily sliced off the things left hand. The appendage fell to the cold metal floor with a wet smack and the fingers began to twitch spastically.
The figure let out an agonizing cry as it released Leon and clutched the bloody stub of its wrist. The American agent got ready to strike again when he slipped on the pool of blood/vomit and ungracefully fell on his ass. His knife flew from his hands at the impact and slid to the other corner of the room. Leon got on all fours (AN: Half the audience has just stuffed tissues up their nose.) and began to crawl to his trusted weapon when suddenly the other hand of the figure grabbed his ankle and tried to drag him into the dark abyss.
The brunette instinctively pulled out his handgun and shot blindly in to the darkness. The blast echoed through out the chambers followed by a sharp cry of pain and the splattering sound of more vomit. The hand released him and Leon got back on his feet just in time…to fall (again) flat on his face and get a mouth full of blood.
Upon getting the foul taste in his mouth Leon felt like he was going heave a lung when a low groan came from the dark room. Leon looked up and watched as the figure slowly stepped out of the dark closet.
"OOOOOH LEEEOOON!"
It was wearing an orange sweater; ugly shit colored boots, and a platinum blonde wig…..
OvO
The glass chamber Ashley was currently being held in cracked as an ear piercing scream echoed through out the entire island base, scaring all that were cursed with the gift of hearing.
oAo
Meanwhile, somewhere on some unimportant part of the island, a small group of Ganado had huddled around a security camera. Another Ganado wearing one of those ugly red hat things (who was in charge of this certain part of the island) walked up and scanned the scene angrily.
"Alright you filthy rats GET BACK TO—hey, is that the stupid American?" The supposed leader stopped his shouting and pulled up a chair next to one of his men, grabbing a hand full of popcorn that was in a bowl in the center of the group. He watched as the American agent was backing up into a corner of the room, the man's eyes filled with a mixture of disgust and shock with a hint of fear glazing it all over.
"Hey, doesn't that drag queen look like José?" (AN: José is just some name I randomly came up with…heh) Commented a random Ganado, pointing at the screen. The others nodded in agreement, and watched as José dressed as Ashley stalked closer and closer to the cowering American.
"Wonder what he did to piss off the boss…."
The groups (now questionable) leader almost felt sorry for Leon, "Fifty pesetas says he gets ass-raped in the next ten minutes!" Er, almost.
"You're on!" Said another, and suddenly a flurry of bets were began to take place, all the money pilled sloppily on a desk near by.
OvO
Oh god oh god oh god oh god oh god…HELP ME MOMMY!
The insane, one handed Ganado ranted on about the American agent being 'SO TOTALLY AWESOME!', with sleazy pickup lines spilling from its mouth left and right. Leon was curled up in a ball in a corner and was reloading the last of his ammo into his handgun as fast as his trembling hands could. The blood soaked Ganado was now no more than a foot from Leon's trembling body. This is it; this could be the room I die in…
"HEY, WHAT'S THAT?" Leon shouted pointing at the wall. This monster may have looked quite capable, but even a blind person could tell that there was nothing much going on upstairs. The Ashley look alike grunted and turned around to look for what Leon had been pointing to. It let out another unintelligible noise that was probably a "Huh?" or a "What?" but instead of trying to figure out what was being said Leon jumped to his feet and gave a kick that sent it flying back to the dark hole it had come from.
That would have been the case if the Ashley from hell hadn't grabbed his foot. Leon was somewhat surprised at the grip the monster had before he was thrown across the room. He landed on a puddle of blood and slid face first into the blood splattered wall. Leon suddenly felt something moving and practically squirming underneath him. He quickly turned over onto his back and saw that the hand that he'd sliced of had some how conceived a mind of its own and was now firmly latched on to Leon's chest. Apparently those infected with plagas had this ability. Go figure.
"Ack!" Leon got to his feet and with all his strength pulled at the undead appendage. But all it did was squirt out more blood from the end of its nasty stub. The thing was laughing at him. Leon could hear its evil cackle ringing in his ears, it seemed that he was gifted with the ability to read the minds of undead appendages. Although, the technical term psychologists used for this gift was 'schizophrenia'.
"Get…off…me!"
The other man (or monstrosity, whatever) only watched as the government agent stumbled around the room with his detached left hand moving all over him. Leon thought about shooting the damn thing, but the thought was trashed when the disgusting thing began to crawl all over him like a mountain climber.
"Eek!...Agh…Stop…squirming around!...Ooooh s-s-s-ssshiiiit…GET THE HELL OFF MEEEEE!" This hand was starting to get a little too happy, and it finally made the agent snap when it tried to do…things…to areas…"AAAAAAAARRRGGGH!" Leon's face was red with a mixture of rage and humiliation along with other emotions that I won't dare say for fear of shattering what's left of this poor man's ego. Right. (A moment of silence as we mourn the death of Leon's ego and psyche. Are we good? Good).
Leon bolted for the knife that had been left neglected in the opposite corner.
Where the crazy Ashley freaky-thing was.
How nice.
Leon shoved the not to bright man out of the way and retrieved the metal, sharp, pointy object from the floor and stabbed the adventurous hand. Leon hadn't realized just how deep his knife had gone until he'd brought it up and saw the hand still on it, sliding down the blade until it reached the hilt, wriggling and twitching all the way down. Leon shivered and stabbed the wall nearest to him, digging the knife in as deep as it would go and left it and the hand pinned there to die of its own accord.
"So..gross…" Leon mumbled, trying to regain what little composure he had left. No amount of therapy will ever make this go away…Leon turned his attention to the now one handed man that was staring blankly at his hand that was hanging from the wall like a trophy. A chill ran down Leon's spine. If his hand did that on its own then hell knows what this monster could do as a whole. I was time to put him down.
Leon raised his gun….
"Wait a minute,"
…And stopped. Did it just actually talk in English?
"PLEASE DON'T KILL MEEE! I only attacked you because I thought you were Saddler! PLEASE SPARE ME!" The Ganado pleaded running to hide behind the dented gold chair. (We can blame Leon's foot for the dent.)
"Excuse me?" Leon looked up at the Ganado with curiosity. The agent lowered his weapon and allowed the Ganado to sit in the fancy gold chair. He sat there for a few awkward moments, before he burst in to tears.
"What the…?" Leon crossed his arms and stepped forward
"Um, er….hey…I'm just wondering, how the hell can you speak English when everyone else that jumps me doesn't?" He asked nervously, after all, it wasn't everyday that you see a practically undead man dressed as the presidents daughter begging with his only hand for his life and crying his eyes out.
The weeping Ganado sniffled and looked up at the American that had a gun to his head. "I can explaaaaiin!" He wailed, causing the American to cover his ears. The one-handed man continued to wail and sob until he was silenced by a gunshot to the ceiling.
Leon once again aimed the handgun in the Ganados direction, "Talk."
The Ganado (who we will now call…José…-cough-…) wiped the tears from his eyes with his only hand.
"It all started when YOU stuck your fat nose into Lord Saddlers' plans! If you hadn't come to this blasted island, none of this would've happened to meeee…" He said sobbing, pointing his finger in the government agent's face. Leon absent mindedly put a hand over his nose. It's not that big. He made a note of inspecting his face whenever he had the time.
"This is my punishment—" Whoa. Leon had already lost him. Punishment?!?! Thousands of horrible scenarios rushed through the agents nut sized brain all at once. "Um, hey, dude?" Leon snapped put of his daze. "Er, you're nose…" Enough about the nose already! "…Is bleeding." Leon quickly wiped away the offending crimson liquid and tilted his head up to prevent anymore from exiting his nose. (which isn't all that big, really). Leon did his best to convince himself that it was a late reaction from ramming his thick ass skull into the wall earlier before. (AN: See last chapter.) He made a mental note to repeat (over and over and over…) that action when he was out of this whole situation.
Did he really want to know more after hearing those first four words? Of course he did (not). "Ahem, anyway, as I was saying before I was interrupted, I am being punished," Leon tried not to break his neck from tilting his head back some more. " …for stealing—and then losing—Saddlers perfu—Imeancolonge!" He said, eyes shifting around nervously.
"……….What?"
FLASHBACKBEGIN!
After upgrading his striker to its maximum level and buying a few first aid sprays, Leon was ready to move out again. "Hey Ashley," The blonde looked up from the cabinet she was peering curiously into. "Let's get going."
"Hold on a sec!" Ashley took out the small glass bottle that had been previously in the cabinet and rushed over to Leons side. (Who once again recoiled at the lack of personal space.) "Look what I found!" The girl said, her face beaming, "Chanel Perfume Number five!"
FLASHBACKEND!
"Whoa, what the hell was that?"
"Oh, that was just glimpse in to my past. It's how I remember to do things. Like take a bath, take out the garbage, eat, breath…….IT WAS A FLASHBACK, YOU DUMBASS!"
"Does this happen to you often?" José replied, sounding eerily similar to the psychiatrist that was patiently waiting for Leon in D.C.
Leon ignored the Ganados question and asked one of his own, "And just why were you stealing perfume—"
"COLONGE!"
"Whatever! The hell were you doing with it the first place?" Leon shouted. As the deformed man wearing a skirt paused to come up with an answer, Leon (the poor fool) once again let his imagination wander and began to come up with possible reasons of his own as to why Saddler owned women's perfume.
Fortunately (for you the reader) before Leon could conjure up the image of Saddler in a Valley girl outfit with a head full of platinum blonde hair and screaming about how he broke a nail (er, okay, maybe not so fortunate for the reader) the Ganado finally answered.
"Well, you see before this, I was a security guard to one of the main offices in the hospital—'' A chill ran Leon's spine as he remembered the hospital. It was there that he'd first encountered the regenerators, after all. "Which I will assume you've already passed up—And I did a damn fine job! Then, when YOU stepped on the island, Lord Saddler ordered us to take as much of our research as we could to the inner laboratory."
(YAWN) "Does this have point?" Leon commented, bored already. He looked down at his once pure white shoes. Yuck. $150 smackers down the drain…and to think my jacket only cost twice that much…His eyebrow twitched….Jacket...my baby…Lets move on. I'm frightening the children.
José glared hatefully at Leon "ANYWAY…I went to one of the offices in the hospital and that's where I found the per—cologne. And, well…" The one-handed man trialed off.
"Weeeeell?"
"…I was kinda curious…"
"WHAT? Ewww…"
The Ganado stared deadpan at Leon for a few seconds, deciding it best not to ask just what the hell the American agent was thinking. He let out a frustrated sigh and continued, "Anyway, I…Sorta sprayed some on me…it smelt nice…flowery…" The one handed man smiled at the memory. Leon began to clean the blood/vomit off his shoes. "The next thing I knew, I was knocked out, dressed up, and thrown in here….And made to do…various…things" (AN:NO NOT LIKE WHAT YOU READERS ARE THINKING! Of course, if you're brave enough to take that much mental damage an imagine it, I wont stop you. I almost when blind writing what José's saying but I think I'm okay now.)
oAo
Back at the little party that was going on the other side, the room was packed with people. "This is bullshit!" One of the men shouted. Everything had been fine at first; but the second Leon lowered his weapon everyone was, to be blunt, pissed as hell.
"This ain't no freakin' soap opera! GIVE US BLOOD!"
"José, you frickin' prick!" Someone threw a beer bottle and with horrible aim shattered the top right security monitor.
"This sucks, I want my money back!" Said another, who looked back at the money pile that was now gone from its position at the table.
"BOOOO!" The leader shouted, a cigar hanging from his mouth and a suspiciously large wad of cash sticking out of his vest pocket that was most definitely not noticeable, and soon everyone began to throw their cheap imitation brand popcorn at the small screen. Hand gestures, obscenities, and comments about where peoples mommas should go were being thrown allover the place. A fight broke out in a random corner and one Ganado silently contemplated the meaning of life while playfully twirling a machete.
Suddenly, the door swung open and everyone froze. Nothing was said as Lord Saddler slowly walked up to the screen displaying the two figures that were still in his private room. Everyone watched to see what his next move would be…
OvO
Leon kept scrubbing at his shoes, trying not to look like he had an obsessive compulsive disorder. Only when he realized that José had stopped talking and the other man was staring at him strangely did he cease his actions. "Is that it? So what you're telling me is that you know ABSOULUTLEY NOTHING ABOUT MY JACKET!" Leon said, handgun shining in the light and dangerously aimed at the Ganado's head.
José took a step back, "Um,er, well you never asked…um…" Before he could be blasted into a million tiny pieces….
"The whereabouts of your jacket are of no importance to you!" Saddler's voice blasted out of the speaker that was in a corner of the room.
"Saddler, you bastard that jacket belongs to me!" Leon shouted, not sure if he could be actually heard by the bald freak. "I know what you've been doing! I've seen it for myself!" Leon shouted.
A wicked thought hatched in the plaga lord's head. "Well, you stupid American," He started. "What if I told you that I was WEARING your precious jacket?" He really wasn't. But hey, Leon couldn't look if he'd wanted too, seeing as they were on the opposite side of the island.
Leon's eyes practically fell out of his skull upon hearing this. "Oh, and José," Saddler continued, "you are of no more use; you may die along with the American."
"WHAT!" José shouted in panic. "How could you? I THOUGHT WE HAD SOMETHING SPEACIAL!" While José began to rant in Spanish about him and Saddler and…things…Leon ran to the lift that was hiding behind the gold chair and pressed the button for it to go down. The machine began to slowly move downward until Saddler pressed a few buttons then cut the power from the control room he was in. That's when the machine began to move up and down erratically fast and after a few moments the machine made a loud whine signaling its death, crashing to the floor.
"Nnngh…" Leon mumbled, his head was spinning and he felt nauseous allover again. "Well…" José asked as Leon rose up from the floor rubbing his backside, "Now what?"
"I don't know." Leon mumbled, walking over to the door that had led to this hell. It didn't open. "Guess he intends to deal with us later. Or he's gonna let us rot in here. Or there could be some sort of toxic gas that's leaking into the room that'll kill us slowly and painfully as I speak.Or—''
"Okay, okay, I get it! Jesus!" José shouted. Leon was about to go back to cleaning his shoes when he looked back at the pile of junk that he'd found hiding earlier. The red dress gleamed conspicuously in the dim lights and it felt drawn toward him for some odd reason…He pulled his knife out from the wall and was satisfied when the hand fell to the cold metal floor that it stayed there.
Better make the most of the time I've got left…
oAo
If I missed any changes to José, please let me know.
Also, please review.