Nymphetamine
"Lead to the river
Midsummer, I waved
A 'V' of black swans
On with hope to the grave
All through Red September
With skies fire-paved
I begged you appear
Like a thorn for the holy,"
Angela sang gently to herself as she made her way through Racoon in search of her 'target'. Whether she was quiet or not didn't seem to matter so she had stopped trying to act stealthy. She was probably one of the last uninfected anything still in the city so her only real protection was to keep her gun up and her feet moving. She was just glad she was immune to the virus, a few of those stupid zombies had actually gotten close enough to cause some damage, nothing to bad though, most of them were almost healed and the one or two remaining were only dull aches. She swung her gun around when she heard movement behind her, she sighed and giggled when she realized it was just the burned out shell of a car finally conceding to gravity.
She was not normally a jumpy girl, zombies didn't scare her after all those long hours of training and the solitude was nothing compared to being confined in the suspension pod. But hearing a Lickers inhuman scream sent a shiver of pure, unadulterated fear up her spine, let alone the cries of three or four of the god-forsaken creatures. Lickers where fast, faster even then Angela and they were freakin smart which made them a million times more dangerous than any size group of shambling undead zombie. Angela would rather face a million; scratch that, a Billion, zombies with just four clips and her pocketknife then a single Licker. Angela had been able to beat every monstrosity Umbrella had pitted her against, everything but the Licker. Angela smiled to herself despite her fears. At least one of those Cries had been its death call, someone had gotten lucky.
"Bared on your tombI am a prayer for your loneliness
And would you ever soon
Come above unto me?
For once upon a time
From the binds of your lowliness
I could always find
The right slot for your sacred,"
Her words echoed off the abandoned buildings. The sound was reassuring, and that particular song only helped to aid in her oddly upbeat mood. As she idly hummed the chorus her thoughts returned to that first tearful night home. When she had finally been reunited with a family she barely remembered and a world that scared and confused her.
Matt had wrapped her in a strangling embrace when she'd appeared out of nowhere on his doorstep. At first she'd been too shocked to speak. He seemed so familiar but at first she couldn't remember why.
After a moment of searching her brain a single thought formed Matt?
To her amazement another voice answered, yeah, lil A, it's me. You're safe now; I'll never let anything happen to you again.
He hadn't said a word, she'd heard his voice inside her mind, and he'd heard hers. That was it, this was him. The boy from her dreams, the boy who had punched her in the shoulder and held her when she woke from a nightmare and beat up any one who dared to cross her. Tears welled in her eyes and she threw her arms around him, sobbing into his shoulder. Once she'd finally settled he'd gently lead her inside and called everyone else with the good news. As he did so she rummaged through a few drawers till she found a pair of scissors and hacked off the larger majority of her long hair, leaving it shoulder length and uneven, she really hated her hair that long.
Angela was amazed at how much things had changed during her four-year-absence. They were no longer the teenaged-older-siblings she remembered, Matt was an ex-marshal, Lisa had been married, divorced, and watched a friend die due to Umbrella's blatant indifference to human life. They were adults now and only seeing how much they had changed did she realize just how different she had become. She'd only gained a few inches, but had developed a very athletic body. It was a huge change from her high school clumsiness. She could even beat her trained brother, something she'd never been able to accomplish before. Her hacking had improved, though she still didn't feel adequate when compared to Lisa. She barely even recognized her parents, around whom she felt uneasy and freakish with her enhanced abilities. She wasn't their little girl anymore, not even close. They quickly became estranged, Angela staying with Matt in his little apartment, sometimes spending a few days with Lisa in hers. Flat out refusing to take back her old room, it didn't feel right for some reason.
Her memories of the last four years were few and scattered. She remembered an explosion that made her hit her head, floating in blue water and unable to move. She knew that her best friend was really smart and saved her ass a lot. From what, she couldn't recall. That she hated someone named Joseph Christ and loved someone she called Uncle Keller. And that Lickers scared her, she knew that deep in her heart even without knowing what a Licker was. She just knew they were scary and fast and she had no hope of defeating it. And she knew that it was all Umbrellas' fault. This last fact only served to piss off Matt, who, it turned out, was desperate to bring the franchise down.
Angela blasted the brains out of yet another Zombie.
"Fold to my arms, Hold their mesmeric sway, And dance to the moon, As we did in those golden days." She sang gently to its still form, her smile widening somewhat.
There was one more thing she remembered, one strange, wonderful thing that had made the jumbled nightmares that had plagued her for the next two years a little easier to handle.
She'd gone to a dance.
Why that single memory appeared with such clarity while so much else remained only a blur made no sense, but she was glad of it. With each passing month of her captivity Angela had felt more and more detached from the human beings that surrounded her, she was treated more like one of the mindless lab specimens than an actual girl. Then one day 'Uncle' Keller told her she was going to begin new training and that certain alterations would need to be made. He took her gun, and gave her a beautiful red dress. Extremely confused she slid the soft fabric over her shoulders. She brushed her hair, curling it under as instructed and applying lipstick as instructed by one of the female lab techs. Still confused and a bit uncomfortable without the guns weight on her thigh she followed another tech down the hall to the large metal door of her training area. He paused and handed her a masquerade mask, she put it on silently and stood, looking small and nervous as she waited for the doors to open.
A sudden flashing light drew her attention, the headset had switched to a map of Racoon, the flashing dot at the edge of the screen, not too far from her position, bore the simple heading 'Target 1'. With a grin she launched herself full tilt in the direction of her primary target. She was Glad, well glad-er, to finally be doing something other then blowing up zombies. But even as she sped down the streets and alleys, easily dodging the cities un-dead residents, her thoughts returned to that single wondrous memory that had stayed with her through everything.
What met her as the door slid into the wall caught her completely off guard. Bright lights and pounding music flashed around the training area, which had completely changed from the usual concrete-and-steel maze into a Masquerade ball at the edge of the city. The room was filled with people wearing ornate masks just like hers and dressed in elegant clothing. The men in the best tuxes money could buy and the women in flowing, beautiful gowns. As the music changed a young man, probably only a few years older than herself, approached her and offered her his arm. He was handsome, with dark hair and gray eyes, most of his features were hidden by his mask and he wasn't allowed to tell her his name. He was a new recruit for Umbrella's elite, and the only one remotely close to her age. He had been asked by Dr. Keller to be his nieces date to a dance she didn't even know about.
Angela sat hunched down on the roof across from some store called 'Mostly Colt' a handful of survivors had set up shop there, most looking like cops. Poor guys had no idea they had chosen to situate themselves directly in Target 1's path. Some black guy dressed up like a stereotypical 'playa' came rushing toward the front, only to have a shot fired over his shoulder. But the sniper on the roof of the adjacent inn wasn't aiming at the guy, but at the dead women seconds away from tearing into his throat. Said sniper was the main reason Angela was staying in the shadows and not watching from the street, even if he decided she wasn't a threat the fact that she didn't want the relative safety of the heavily armed and reasonably manned gun store would tip him off., plus she wasn't totally sure about the stability of the cowboy-hat-wearing cop. And anyway she had a thing about shooting live targets.
She didn't have to wait long, slowly but surely the flashing dot drew closer to her location, as the blip reached what she assumed was the end of the street she pushed herself to her knee's and peeked over the ledge. The first thing she noticed was the cowboy-sniper still playing shooting range with the zombies on the street when he glanced to his side.
"What the f is that?" he said taking aim at whatever had freaked him out so much.
A single shot rang out; Angela debated whether or not to risk a better view by bringing herself into the snipers line of site.
His next words synched it "I must have missed," he muttered disbelievingly, "I never miss."
A tiny screen had appeared in the corner of the map displayed on her headset. It was video footage from her target, some weird cross between regular sight, infrared, and ultraviolet; it was a close up view of cowboy-sniper as he loaded another round, data streamed in the uppermost corner of that screen and text suddenly scrolled across the bottom in bold capitals.
DIRECTIVE: SEEK AND DESTROY MEMBERS OF S.T.A.R.S.
Standing, Angela got her first glimpse of the monstrosity that was her target. It stood around eight or nine feet tall, it had muscles on its muscles on its muscles, tubes ran in and out of its flesh, and it hefted a rail gun like it was nothing. Project: Nemesis, in all it's monstrous glory.
"Son of a Bitch! You're goin down!" cowboy-sniper shouted as he re-loaded his rifle.
In answer, the monstrosity took aim with the rail gun. Cowboy-sniper hesitated at the sight of the rail gun being aimed at him.
"Shit!" were the last words Angela heard as a hailstorm of bullets tore apart the inns roof.
From her vantage point, Angela could just make out where he'd sought refuge behind the roofs access cabin. Without halting his assault with the rail gun he raised the rocket launcher and fired at the inn. Not a second later the entire building was a smoldering inferno.
Now it was obvious why Umbrella wanted real-time up close footage as well as that from the optical feeds from nemesis, it was completely amazing! Wondering what this bio-monstrosity would do now she simply watched in silence. It hadn't seemed to notice her and turned to Mostly Colt. Angela could see the occupants talking, then watching in amazement as their friend was blown to hell. The group opened fire, all but the black guy who had been last in, and for all the good it did them. Nemesis simply swung his oversized arsenal around, bringing the shop into its cross hairs. She could even see the little target pop up in the display as he took aim and let fly. It was barely a second before it was over and every one of them lay dead. Well, that wasn't completely right, the black guy, who hadn't fired a single shot was still alive. Shakily he got to his feet, hands in the air. A threat analysis scrolled at the bottom of Nemisis' vision, this guy only warranting a 'minimal'.
"Respect" he whimpered, dropping the twin Uzi's he'd been holding.
The threat level changed 'zero threat' flashed in bold and Nemisis moved on, Angela snorted, even unarmed she was at least a 'moderate'; this guy didn't even make the scale, now that was funny.
Something warm and moist ran down her cheek and she wiped it away with her hand, looking at her fingers she was surprised to find that they were wet, she tasted it experimentally and found it was, salty? They were tears, she was crying. But how could she be crying if she wasn't sad? Sure, it was a shame those guys had died but she didn't feel too bad about it.
But, why don't you feel bad about it?
Shoving the thought aside she wiped the tears from her eyes and made her way down to the street.
The flames leaped and twirled through the wreckage that had once been an inn, she watched it for a moment, allowing it to over take her thoughts. He'd been the perfect gentleman, leading her onto the floor, talking to her like an equal. He'd spun her round the dance floor with such amazing grace, everyone stopped to watch them. He'd stared lovingly into her eyes and held her so gently, as if she would break if he weren't carefully. No one was ever gentle with her. She remembered every move they'd made as the music had guided them. And now she stood amid the flaming wreckage, the fire giving her an unnatural glow as her body began to move with music only she could hear, to the beat of a memory long over and a lover long dead. And she sang her voice wavering and eerily lovely in the silence of a dead city.
Six feet deep is the incision
In my heart, that barless prison
Discolours all with tunnel vision
Sunsetter
Nymphetamine
Sick and weak from my condition
This lust, a vampyric addiction
To her alone in full submission
None better
He had given her back something she'd thought she'd lost forever. He'd returned her heart, and now it had been stolen again without her even knowing it.
Nymphetamine
Billy Rose: eh, not so much telepathy, it's more of saying the none of them were exactly normal to begin with. hope you likeys this chappy as much as the last!
Anon: DUDE thankies for the complement XD
Slashshipper: sorry dude, Rain is curently ten feet under (as far as you know) >:)
AJ shipper: nah, i think i'll keep this story on the "Straight" and narrow
oh god i actually made that joke --;
Ghost: I'z haz updated, be merry and enjoy the fic
Hattori Hanzo: thanks hanzo, hope this one takes the cake
KLM: Dun worry, be patient and your alice will appear, i'm glad you like my Angie as well.
Next Chapter:
Second target is located
more secrets are revealed
why can't our heiroine feel her own tears?
comment and find out