Kitana- Hello all, ok this chapter (well the beginning) it going to be a tad disturbing and deals with suicide and stuff.
And one more thing, err if you need me to answer any questions just posting them up or send an e-mail, whatever suits you I is ok with…
By the way, I've got a question for you…
Can anyone tell me what the 'S' stands for in Leon. S. Kennedy? I used Simon cos I didn't know…
I'll be very happy for any replies…
…ta very much! ;o)
40
The scent of flowers, perfumed flowers gently flowed through the air. Its soft warm smell was so feminine; it lay over his skin like a velvet breeze in summer. He only remembered this feeling, this wonderful sensation, when his mother was alive. He used to climb into her bed and snuggle up to her in the early hours of the morning. That same smell clung to her skin as her arms wrapped round her baby boy. That was ten years ago and he could still remember his mother's scent, even now.
Steve opened his eyes and stared up at the white washed ceiling, shadows danced within the glow of the afternoon light. The window was open and that sense of summer entered through and covered him like a blanket. He sat up staring out of the window where the sounds of busy lives echoed. He smiled as the children played within the warm streets.
It was nice there, he felt safe.
The room wasn't small and it wasn't big, but the size was just right, a cupboard lay next to the bed, the door was open and he peeked inside only to see women's clothing. The bedspread was dark red close to blood; it was soft to touch and very silky. He laid his head down on the pillow and drew in that scent into his lungs and sighed.
Claire's smell.
He knew it was hers from miles around. The smell of her hair and body clung deep into the material. He rubbed his face into the pillow breathing in Claire at the same time. He turned round facing the ceiling again, happy, on top of the world. He laughed wrapping the sheets around him, it was her. He couldn't get enough of her scent. She was like a drug.
No, it was love driving him to remember every tiny detail of her. Her hair, her body, her scent, the little habits, how she looked when she was happy and sad. All he wanted to do was wrap his arms round her body and lie within the sheets and think only about her.
But then he wondered why he was in her apartment? What happened to Alexia? And Umbrella? He lay back frowning not quite understanding how and why he was there. He looked up seeing a young woman dressed in nothing more than her underwear walk into the room, she moved out of the shadows and in the warm light of the afternoon sun. And there she was standing by the bed gazing out of the window. The white net curtains bellowed gently across the cool wind coming from outside pushing her brown hair back slightly around her shoulders and neck. She stood with a sad expression almost holding back the tears. Steve sat up and smiled at her but she didn't respond, as if he wasn't even there, "Claire?" he whispered out.
She turned to face him and there was no life within her blue eyes, only a deep sadness. She stared right into him but did nothing other than move back and walked out of the room. Steve stood up, running behind her, he reached out with his hand and felt air; she passed through him as if a ghost and carried on her way. Steve stood in the hall frozen; he stared at his hands, eyes wide and black. He treaded back gasping as if the boogieman stepped out in front of him. He didn't know why this was happening, why she wasn't really there or why he wasn't there. He shook his head breaking out of the trance and ran into the bathroom glaring around for Claire.
She stood in front of her small mirror, which hung above the white sink. She leant down her palms on the edge and glared into the glass, her mouth opened but the silence cut deep within the small room, he watched her lips move, "I hate you," she was saying to the reflection, "It's all your fault!"
Claire smiled, but it was so wicked and unpleasant it would shame the devil. And there it was, grasped within the palm of right hand a knife, a normal kitchen knife used for chopping up food. Steve lunged forward hands out ready to snatch the blade. She smiled again, eyes narrowed to her reflecting self, "But it will all change," she said tears falling from her eyes. She glanced at her hands turning her left one upside down revealing the blue vein under the skin. She gently stroked it with her finger.
Steve fell through her, helpless to do anything but watch her kill herself.
She clutched the knife tightly and laid it just above her wrist, "I hate you!" she spat out pushing the metallic blade into her flesh.
Steve screamed as the blood flowed from her arm and down to the floor. Tiny, beautiful teardrops of red fell aimlessly in the air; they fell with such grace down and into his body, passing through him staining the white tiled floor red. Claire grabbed the sink smudging the smooth cool clay red. Her hand began shaking as her blood poured out like a river. She faced the mirror again laughing like a deranged loon, "This is for Steve!"
Steve watched as the blade touched the surface of her right wrist, he was screaming to someone who couldn't hear, who couldn't be saved. She was doing it for him because she felt guilty for his life. He desperately grabbed her, but always failing at the same time.
Claire switched the knife from her right hand to her left and quickly stabbed the tip in her flesh. She gave out a silenced scream falling back to the floor. The pain engulfed her entire body, it happened all at once making her scream and cry out. She hit the floor next to Steve and glared at the ceiling eyes dark and lost. Her hands lay out stretched bleeding, flooding the small room red. He knelt by her, feeling that sharp spasm that went through her body, he could taste the fear and pain on the tip on his tongue like poison. Her chest flinched as she tried to gain some air into her lungs.
Steve sat in her pool of blood frozen like an ice statue hands covered in red. He sobbed falling head first into the sea of blood watching the one he loved slip away…
Steve jerked scrambling to a wall, he gasped trying the best he could to reduce his heart rate. He wiped the sweat from his brow and came face to face with Alexia.
She smiled sitting opposite him on the floor, "You sleep long Steve," she whispered, "I was wondering when you will wake." Her golden hair fell across her chest; she smiled again studying the young copper haired boy in front of her.
"Alexia?" he breathed practically still in shock that he was back in Umbrella's facility.
She straightened her back and glared at him, "Alexia," she repeated, "I tire of that name," her face changed, she looked almost sad, tired, distant and very childlike. The evil, the utter malice was wiped clean from her beautiful face, "Alexia is dead Steve," she grinned, "Mr Redfield saw to that in the Antarctic."
Steve glared straight into her eyes, disbelief merged into his green-blue eyes, which made her smile more, "I don't understand," he said, "Who are you then?!"
She stood up letting her white gown fall to the floor, her bare feet patted along towards him. She stood above Steve and curtsied, "I'm Alicia Ashford," she glanced at him, "Daughter of Alexander Ashford."
His eyes widen. But he still didn't believe her; she looked so much like Alexia, every little line within her face resembled the ant queen. She knelt down by him and bent her neck to the side, her hair fell around her face, "It is a long story just like your demise and resurrection from Death's embrace."
His face softened, almost understanding her situation, "You're a clone," he whispered.
Alicia shook her head slightly, "Yes and no. I was not born, but merely made within a lab."
"Where's Claire?"
She stood back up and walked into the shadows of the dark room. Monitors laid on the right side of the room; he glanced up and saw a disfigured body sitting on a throne like chair. Alicia followed his eyes, "Father has been waiting to meet with you Steve," she stood close to the dead body.
Alexander, or Nosferatu, lay still within the old seat, the hole in its chest was huge and the heart he had was clumped together in dried bits of red. Tiny maggots crawled within the hole. Steve heaved; the smell was another disgusting thing. It was like a thick fog settling inside his lungs like a disease, he coughed averting his eyes from the monstrosity. He was still wearing the same clothes when he died in the Antarctic, his hands were laid on the edge of the throne with deep round slits in the wrist were the robes were, his eyes weren't covered anymore, but he could understand why they were. He had no eyes, just black holes. The long fleshy extensions he had in the Antarctic were still here, however they were shrivelled up and lay limp to the side.
Alicia held that smile; she gazed at the corpse as if she actually saw her father alive. The girl was obliviously crazy.
"Where's Claire?" he asked again.
"Miss Redfield is safe…for now, but she needs to pay for her deeds."
Steve glared at her, "What deeds?"
Some sort of surprise coated her face, "Why you should know Steve, you were there."
He glanced back at 'father', "He was already dead!"
Alicia frowned, she moved with nothing more than a swift of air; she grabbed his shirt pulling him up to the wall. She was shorter than him, but she was incredibly strong for her age. Her eyes changed colour, the blue seeped away leaving dark black eyes, her nose scrunched up, her eyebrows lowered, "He was only halfway there. The T-Veronica virus was holding him in a state of, shall I say…frozen-stasis. His body did not age; it only changed his shape because of the affect of the virus. Used properly and it is the evolution of man, just like you Steve. But in my father's case the virus only reduced him to his ancestral primal form, as every human has. Fifteen years he was imprisoned and it was only a few hours before the events within the Rockford Island that I had invented a cure! The Counter-virus," she laughed and the blue returned, she lowered him to his feet and turned to her father, "I had found the cure for the G-virus, T-virus and the T-Veronica virus. Still in its experimental stages I wanted to cure him and restore his long punishment into a victory for the Ashford Clan!" She narrowed her eyes, and the sensation of hot anger rushed into him, "But Miss Claire Redfield murdered him before I could administer the Counter-virus."
Alicia twirled around running behind her father, she laid her head on his shoulder and laughed, a high musical sound, "She has to pay Steve, father wants it no other way," she gently laid a warm kiss on the rotting corpse's grey cheek, "Isn't that right father?"
Steve clenched his fists, "Where is Claire?!" his voice was deeper and sinister than before.
Alicia sighed, "That girl has clouded your mind son, you are no longer human, why bothered with her? She is weak, pathetic and a murderer!"
"I am not like you!" he cried falling to the floor, "I'm not like you!"
Alicia froze, "I am not like you," she repeated, already feeling his pain, "I am not like you mother." She walked to him gently laying her arms around his waist, "Why do you reject your mother?"
He looked up at her, tears running down his cheeks, "What?"
"Yes, I am the one who made you son, you are mine and I am yours," her face softened and there was only love for her child inside her eyes, "Why do you reject your mother?"
He flinched from her cool touch and scrambled away, "Because you are not my mother! I'm not a beast! I am not evil!"
Alicia laughed, "And I am?"
"Yes!" he cried.
Sadness and confusion consumed her soul, "Why? Because I kill? Humans kill, but yet in your eyes they are not beasts or evil! If that is the case then YOU are evil too! My mother's work runs deep within your genes, your blood! Everywhere! You are no longer Steve Burnside, but an Ashford."
"No!"
"Yes! You can't run away from your family any longer. The Ashford's stay together! Forever!"
"No!" he screamed forcing the air to move into her, the invisible force shoved her into the wall; she fell to the floor laughing as loud as possible.
She licked the blood from her lips and smiled, "You are learning son! The Ashford family resides within you!"
"No! I am not an Ashford" the monitors sparked up blowing out and across the room, pieces flew into the air and into the corpse. Alicia stood up and moved closer to Steve, her hair blew around within her area as if a huge invisible tornado was inside the room; hot power encased her body making Steve back away from her. Her eyes glowed white. She glared into his eyes forcing his entire body to rise from the floor, "That is enough!" she said in her smooth and calm voice, "It is time for bed son!"
The wind stopped, the heat from her body stopped too. Her white eyes died down and Steve fell to the floor, he gasped as his head hit the stoned ground.
Alicia knelt by him, lifting his head to her lap. She stroked his hair; small spatters of blood sunk into her gown. She closed her eyes and sang her father's lullaby to her child while he drifted far away.
Steve knew this was wrong and yet it felt nice, a feeling he hadn't felt for along time. And he could just about smell the sweet perfume of flowers from the individual above him, "Mother?" he whispered.
Alicia gently kissed his forehead, "Yes my dear, mummy is here."
And one more thing, err if you need me to answer any questions just posting them up or send an e-mail, whatever suits you I is ok with…
By the way, I've got a question for you…
Can anyone tell me what the 'S' stands for in Leon. S. Kennedy? I used Simon cos I didn't know…
I'll be very happy for any replies…
…ta very much! ;o)
40
The scent of flowers, perfumed flowers gently flowed through the air. Its soft warm smell was so feminine; it lay over his skin like a velvet breeze in summer. He only remembered this feeling, this wonderful sensation, when his mother was alive. He used to climb into her bed and snuggle up to her in the early hours of the morning. That same smell clung to her skin as her arms wrapped round her baby boy. That was ten years ago and he could still remember his mother's scent, even now.
Steve opened his eyes and stared up at the white washed ceiling, shadows danced within the glow of the afternoon light. The window was open and that sense of summer entered through and covered him like a blanket. He sat up staring out of the window where the sounds of busy lives echoed. He smiled as the children played within the warm streets.
It was nice there, he felt safe.
The room wasn't small and it wasn't big, but the size was just right, a cupboard lay next to the bed, the door was open and he peeked inside only to see women's clothing. The bedspread was dark red close to blood; it was soft to touch and very silky. He laid his head down on the pillow and drew in that scent into his lungs and sighed.
Claire's smell.
He knew it was hers from miles around. The smell of her hair and body clung deep into the material. He rubbed his face into the pillow breathing in Claire at the same time. He turned round facing the ceiling again, happy, on top of the world. He laughed wrapping the sheets around him, it was her. He couldn't get enough of her scent. She was like a drug.
No, it was love driving him to remember every tiny detail of her. Her hair, her body, her scent, the little habits, how she looked when she was happy and sad. All he wanted to do was wrap his arms round her body and lie within the sheets and think only about her.
But then he wondered why he was in her apartment? What happened to Alexia? And Umbrella? He lay back frowning not quite understanding how and why he was there. He looked up seeing a young woman dressed in nothing more than her underwear walk into the room, she moved out of the shadows and in the warm light of the afternoon sun. And there she was standing by the bed gazing out of the window. The white net curtains bellowed gently across the cool wind coming from outside pushing her brown hair back slightly around her shoulders and neck. She stood with a sad expression almost holding back the tears. Steve sat up and smiled at her but she didn't respond, as if he wasn't even there, "Claire?" he whispered out.
She turned to face him and there was no life within her blue eyes, only a deep sadness. She stared right into him but did nothing other than move back and walked out of the room. Steve stood up, running behind her, he reached out with his hand and felt air; she passed through him as if a ghost and carried on her way. Steve stood in the hall frozen; he stared at his hands, eyes wide and black. He treaded back gasping as if the boogieman stepped out in front of him. He didn't know why this was happening, why she wasn't really there or why he wasn't there. He shook his head breaking out of the trance and ran into the bathroom glaring around for Claire.
She stood in front of her small mirror, which hung above the white sink. She leant down her palms on the edge and glared into the glass, her mouth opened but the silence cut deep within the small room, he watched her lips move, "I hate you," she was saying to the reflection, "It's all your fault!"
Claire smiled, but it was so wicked and unpleasant it would shame the devil. And there it was, grasped within the palm of right hand a knife, a normal kitchen knife used for chopping up food. Steve lunged forward hands out ready to snatch the blade. She smiled again, eyes narrowed to her reflecting self, "But it will all change," she said tears falling from her eyes. She glanced at her hands turning her left one upside down revealing the blue vein under the skin. She gently stroked it with her finger.
Steve fell through her, helpless to do anything but watch her kill herself.
She clutched the knife tightly and laid it just above her wrist, "I hate you!" she spat out pushing the metallic blade into her flesh.
Steve screamed as the blood flowed from her arm and down to the floor. Tiny, beautiful teardrops of red fell aimlessly in the air; they fell with such grace down and into his body, passing through him staining the white tiled floor red. Claire grabbed the sink smudging the smooth cool clay red. Her hand began shaking as her blood poured out like a river. She faced the mirror again laughing like a deranged loon, "This is for Steve!"
Steve watched as the blade touched the surface of her right wrist, he was screaming to someone who couldn't hear, who couldn't be saved. She was doing it for him because she felt guilty for his life. He desperately grabbed her, but always failing at the same time.
Claire switched the knife from her right hand to her left and quickly stabbed the tip in her flesh. She gave out a silenced scream falling back to the floor. The pain engulfed her entire body, it happened all at once making her scream and cry out. She hit the floor next to Steve and glared at the ceiling eyes dark and lost. Her hands lay out stretched bleeding, flooding the small room red. He knelt by her, feeling that sharp spasm that went through her body, he could taste the fear and pain on the tip on his tongue like poison. Her chest flinched as she tried to gain some air into her lungs.
Steve sat in her pool of blood frozen like an ice statue hands covered in red. He sobbed falling head first into the sea of blood watching the one he loved slip away…
Steve jerked scrambling to a wall, he gasped trying the best he could to reduce his heart rate. He wiped the sweat from his brow and came face to face with Alexia.
She smiled sitting opposite him on the floor, "You sleep long Steve," she whispered, "I was wondering when you will wake." Her golden hair fell across her chest; she smiled again studying the young copper haired boy in front of her.
"Alexia?" he breathed practically still in shock that he was back in Umbrella's facility.
She straightened her back and glared at him, "Alexia," she repeated, "I tire of that name," her face changed, she looked almost sad, tired, distant and very childlike. The evil, the utter malice was wiped clean from her beautiful face, "Alexia is dead Steve," she grinned, "Mr Redfield saw to that in the Antarctic."
Steve glared straight into her eyes, disbelief merged into his green-blue eyes, which made her smile more, "I don't understand," he said, "Who are you then?!"
She stood up letting her white gown fall to the floor, her bare feet patted along towards him. She stood above Steve and curtsied, "I'm Alicia Ashford," she glanced at him, "Daughter of Alexander Ashford."
His eyes widen. But he still didn't believe her; she looked so much like Alexia, every little line within her face resembled the ant queen. She knelt down by him and bent her neck to the side, her hair fell around her face, "It is a long story just like your demise and resurrection from Death's embrace."
His face softened, almost understanding her situation, "You're a clone," he whispered.
Alicia shook her head slightly, "Yes and no. I was not born, but merely made within a lab."
"Where's Claire?"
She stood back up and walked into the shadows of the dark room. Monitors laid on the right side of the room; he glanced up and saw a disfigured body sitting on a throne like chair. Alicia followed his eyes, "Father has been waiting to meet with you Steve," she stood close to the dead body.
Alexander, or Nosferatu, lay still within the old seat, the hole in its chest was huge and the heart he had was clumped together in dried bits of red. Tiny maggots crawled within the hole. Steve heaved; the smell was another disgusting thing. It was like a thick fog settling inside his lungs like a disease, he coughed averting his eyes from the monstrosity. He was still wearing the same clothes when he died in the Antarctic, his hands were laid on the edge of the throne with deep round slits in the wrist were the robes were, his eyes weren't covered anymore, but he could understand why they were. He had no eyes, just black holes. The long fleshy extensions he had in the Antarctic were still here, however they were shrivelled up and lay limp to the side.
Alicia held that smile; she gazed at the corpse as if she actually saw her father alive. The girl was obliviously crazy.
"Where's Claire?" he asked again.
"Miss Redfield is safe…for now, but she needs to pay for her deeds."
Steve glared at her, "What deeds?"
Some sort of surprise coated her face, "Why you should know Steve, you were there."
He glanced back at 'father', "He was already dead!"
Alicia frowned, she moved with nothing more than a swift of air; she grabbed his shirt pulling him up to the wall. She was shorter than him, but she was incredibly strong for her age. Her eyes changed colour, the blue seeped away leaving dark black eyes, her nose scrunched up, her eyebrows lowered, "He was only halfway there. The T-Veronica virus was holding him in a state of, shall I say…frozen-stasis. His body did not age; it only changed his shape because of the affect of the virus. Used properly and it is the evolution of man, just like you Steve. But in my father's case the virus only reduced him to his ancestral primal form, as every human has. Fifteen years he was imprisoned and it was only a few hours before the events within the Rockford Island that I had invented a cure! The Counter-virus," she laughed and the blue returned, she lowered him to his feet and turned to her father, "I had found the cure for the G-virus, T-virus and the T-Veronica virus. Still in its experimental stages I wanted to cure him and restore his long punishment into a victory for the Ashford Clan!" She narrowed her eyes, and the sensation of hot anger rushed into him, "But Miss Claire Redfield murdered him before I could administer the Counter-virus."
Alicia twirled around running behind her father, she laid her head on his shoulder and laughed, a high musical sound, "She has to pay Steve, father wants it no other way," she gently laid a warm kiss on the rotting corpse's grey cheek, "Isn't that right father?"
Steve clenched his fists, "Where is Claire?!" his voice was deeper and sinister than before.
Alicia sighed, "That girl has clouded your mind son, you are no longer human, why bothered with her? She is weak, pathetic and a murderer!"
"I am not like you!" he cried falling to the floor, "I'm not like you!"
Alicia froze, "I am not like you," she repeated, already feeling his pain, "I am not like you mother." She walked to him gently laying her arms around his waist, "Why do you reject your mother?"
He looked up at her, tears running down his cheeks, "What?"
"Yes, I am the one who made you son, you are mine and I am yours," her face softened and there was only love for her child inside her eyes, "Why do you reject your mother?"
He flinched from her cool touch and scrambled away, "Because you are not my mother! I'm not a beast! I am not evil!"
Alicia laughed, "And I am?"
"Yes!" he cried.
Sadness and confusion consumed her soul, "Why? Because I kill? Humans kill, but yet in your eyes they are not beasts or evil! If that is the case then YOU are evil too! My mother's work runs deep within your genes, your blood! Everywhere! You are no longer Steve Burnside, but an Ashford."
"No!"
"Yes! You can't run away from your family any longer. The Ashford's stay together! Forever!"
"No!" he screamed forcing the air to move into her, the invisible force shoved her into the wall; she fell to the floor laughing as loud as possible.
She licked the blood from her lips and smiled, "You are learning son! The Ashford family resides within you!"
"No! I am not an Ashford" the monitors sparked up blowing out and across the room, pieces flew into the air and into the corpse. Alicia stood up and moved closer to Steve, her hair blew around within her area as if a huge invisible tornado was inside the room; hot power encased her body making Steve back away from her. Her eyes glowed white. She glared into his eyes forcing his entire body to rise from the floor, "That is enough!" she said in her smooth and calm voice, "It is time for bed son!"
The wind stopped, the heat from her body stopped too. Her white eyes died down and Steve fell to the floor, he gasped as his head hit the stoned ground.
Alicia knelt by him, lifting his head to her lap. She stroked his hair; small spatters of blood sunk into her gown. She closed her eyes and sang her father's lullaby to her child while he drifted far away.
Steve knew this was wrong and yet it felt nice, a feeling he hadn't felt for along time. And he could just about smell the sweet perfume of flowers from the individual above him, "Mother?" he whispered.
Alicia gently kissed his forehead, "Yes my dear, mummy is here."