Chapter Two: An Evil Residence
Jill's lungs burned breathing in the musty smell of the mansion's foyer. She hunched over, hands on her knees. Her reflection stared back from the polished tiled floor. Everything about her appearance seemed haggard—her distorted features pale, hairs sticking out from her lopsided beret, the winkles of her brow. The doors closed behind her and a moment of silence fell between them.
"What is this place?" Barry said, his voice just as breathless as Jill's.
"Not quite your ordinary house, that's for sure," Wesker replied.
Jill glanced up to take in the full grandeur of the mansion's foyer. A crimson rug ran from the foot of the front doors and extended up the grand staircase. The stairs ended at a midway point, from which it split into two more stairwells to either side. A door stood on the mid-landing, one that was nearly camouflaged within the mural surrounding it. Walkways lined the walls of the second floor with rich dark wood railings. Two other openings lead downward on either side of the grand stairwell. Three other doors led off from the hall—double doors to the left, and two doors to the right.
A chandelier and a series of lit candelabras cast long shadows over the room.
Someone's obviously home, Jill thought. When she turned back to the others, she froze.
"Where's Chris?" She asked. Wesker and Barry looked at each other. Jill strode toward the door.
"Jill, no," Wesker said. "You don't want to go back out there."
"We can't just leave him out there," Jill said, her voice rising an octave. "Those…things will tear him apart like they did—"
Muffled gunfire echoed from within the mansion, and they turned toward double doors.
"Chris?" Wesker muttered. Lightning flashed through the windows, sending a shiver through Jill. "Jill, go and investigate."
"I'm going with her," Barry said, his voice low. "Chris and I…we go back a long way."
The muscles around Wesker's eyes tightened. He sighed and then nodded.
"Alright," the captain said. "You two go. I'll stay and secure the area."
Jill ran over and placed a hand on the knob while she drew her handgun with the other. Barry trained his magnum on the threshold. Jill pushed open the door, and Barry rushed in. Once he gave the area a quick sweep, Jill followed with her weapon poised.
The dining room was almost as tall as the foyer. A long table, complete with three lit candelabras, took most of the chamber. A crackling fire came from the fireplace across from them, accompanied by the ticking of a grandfather clock. The dining hall was, otherwise, empty.
Lit candles and a roaring fire—still more signs of life. Yet, there was no one. That familiar sense of foreboding that made Jill's stomach clench. Flashes of lightning were visible through the series of windows to their left. Portraits and vases adorned the wall and the side tables. Another walkway lined the second floor. Jill could have sworn a shadow moved above. She watched for a few minutes, yet the lighting made it hard to decipher anything on the second landing.
"Hey!" Barry said, kneeling before the fireplace. "I think you might want to see this."
"What is it?" Jill asked, though she soon understood. A splatter of crimson stained the black and white tile. Barry dabbed two fingers into the substance and then brought it to his nose.
"Blood," he muttered. Something caught Jill's eye. It was small and easily overlooked. By an ajar door to the right was three more spots of blood.
"I'll be over here," Jill said, gesturing to the door. Barry just nodded, staring at the blood before him.
"I hope this isn't Chris' blood," he muttered to himself.
Me either, Jill thought.
The hall on the other side was so dark that it took a moment for Jill's eyes to adjust. The corridor was narrow, the walls decorated with peeling green. She took a step inside, and the floorboard creaked beneath her foot. Dots of red ran the length of the hall and around the corner. Jill followed the trail, her grip tightening around her Beretta. She turned the corner to find a man crotched, his bald head bobbing up and down.
"Hello," Jill said. "Everything's alright. I with S.T.A.R.S.—"
The man stiffened and releasing what he had been holding. Another person, one who Jill hadn't seen in the dark, slumped to the ground. They gasped in an expression of open-mouthed terror at Jill.
It was Kenneth Sullivan, the point man of the Bravo S.T.A.R.S. team.
A large chunk was missing out of his jugular. Kenneth shuddered in his death throws as blood pooled from the wound.
The man hovering over him slowly turned his gray head. Two white eyes landed on her. Teeth, stained red from its feast, protruded from his lipless mouth. The man slowly stood, standing a full foot taller than Jill.
"Stay where you are," she said and raised her gun.
The man turned, extending his arms. A groan came from his decayed vocals. There was almost a plea behind it, an urgency; A lust for food.
"I said stay put!" Jill said.
He took a staggering step forward. Jill fired into the man's shoulder. He staggered, but quickly righted himself. It was as though he hadn't felt the bullet at all. Jill fired into his right side. Yet again, there was only a moment's recoil, before he took another lumbering step forward.
It was impossible! Those shots alone should have brought the man down. Jill even spotted black blood sprouting from the holes of its already ragged suit.
The hall door burst open and she heard hurried footsteps. Jill couldn't take her eyes off the man coming toward her. He's dead, was all she could think. It was a random thought, but there was no other conclusion. This man, the dogs—they were all dead. But they keep walking. The thought made her take a sharp intake of breath.
"Jill," Barry said, running to her side. "I heard gunfire—what the hell."
Barry turned and was momentarily stunned by the man.
"It's a monster," Jill muttered.
Barry raised his magnum and fired. The first two shots made the man stumble back. Barry righted his footing and took careful aim. He fired. The man's head whipped back as the bullet connected with its forehead. He arched back, mouth agape, and then fell back. The monster's body twitched a few times before it stopped altogether.
"What the hell is this?" Barry muttered.
"Kenneth was killed by this thing," Jill replied. As she said this, Barry's fell on their compatriot. His walked over, bending down and examining Kenneth. Barry sighed and closed Kenneth's eyes.
"Shit," he said, slowly rising. The corridor felt oppressive. Jill leaned back, pressure mounting between her eyes.
"We should report this to Wesker," Jill said. Barry made no sign that he had heard her right away. Eventually, he took a deep breath and nodded. Jill grabbed the radio on her belt and brought it to her mouth. "Valentine to Wesker, over." A moment passed, her fingers tightening around the rectangular surface of the walkie-talkie. No reply came. She pressed the call button again. "I repeat, Valentine to Wesker, over." The line remained dead. Jill shot a look at Barry, who stared off with his brow furrowed.
"Something's not right," he muttered and passed Jill back to the Dining Room.
The two walked back to the entrance hall in silence. Jill wanted to say something to elevate the tension off Barry. She couldn't feel sorrow, at least not then. She knew that when everything calmed down—when she was laying in her bed, alone with her thoughts—that Kenneth's and Joseph's deaths would come crashing down. But not right now. Right now, she had to keep her head high. She needed to survive. Though, part of her knew that it wasn't just Kenneth or Joseph that Barry was worried about.
"I'm sure Chris is fine," Jill said as they entered the dining room.
"Yeah, I know," Barry said, his voice low. "The kid's tough, that's for sure. I remembered when he was in the Air Force—some headstrong little smartass who couldn't keep his mouth shut. To be fair, nothing's changed much." Barry chuckled, but it only lasted for a moment. "He was a fighter though…in more ways than one." Barry fell silent, and Jill didn't think it prudent to push the conversation further.
The two entered the entrance hall, only to find it empty.
"Wesker!" Barry shouted. His voice echoed in the cavernous room, only met with the resounding reply of lightning outside. Jill looked up and around and then ran down the stairs to the left of the grand staircase. It led to a little corridor that conjoined the staircase on the other side. Beneath the grand staircase was an iron gate. Jill couldn't see much behind it, only a few steps leading farther down into darkness. She tried the handle, only to find the gate locked. She circled back to the foyer. For a moment, she half expected to find Barry gone as well. When she found him standing in the center of the foyer where she left him, Jill sighed in relief.
"What's going on around here? I can't figure it out," she said. "Do you think one of those…things got to him too?"
"Nah," Barry replied. "I'm sure we would have heard some kind of struggle or something."
Jill grunted. The pain in her head was only growing. She sat on the first step of the grand stairwell and placed her head in her hands. The temporary darkness was almost comforting. Kenneth and Joseph dead, Chris and Wesker missing. Everything seemed so surreal. Reality no longer seemed reliable anymore. It was as though anything could change in an instant-
"There's nothing for it," Barry said, causing Jill to glance up. "We'll cover more ground if we search for him separately. I'll investigate the dining room again."
"Alright," Jill said. "I'll try the door on the other side."
She had to push the words from her vocal cords. Now, with them out in the open, and their imminent separation, Jill felt like she was going to vomit. She forced the sensation down.
"Yeah," Barry said, letting out a long breath. "This mansion is gigantic. We could easily get lost…" He patted the radio clipped to his side. "Better stay in contact. If anything happens, let's radio each other and meet back in this hall."
"Right," Jill said with a quick nod. She turned toward the door on the opposite door.
"Oh, one more thing!" Barry said. He dug into his pocket. "Been meaning to give this to you." Barry handed her two small objects—the first was a piece of metal that was crooked at the end, while the other looked like a pocket knife, though instead of a knife it held a series of bent and jagged tips. Jill had to force back a grimace. "It's a lockpick," he said as if she didn't already know what it was. "I heard you were 'the master of unlocking' back in the day. Might be useful for you." Barry chuckled, but when he found Jill didn't return it, his laughter died down.
Like I really need to remember that time of my life right now, Jill thought. Still, she forced a smirk.
"Thanks, I may need it," she replied.
"Take care," he said. Barry gave Jill a little smile before turning around and walking back to the dining room. As the door closed behind him, the weight of loneliness crushed down upon her once more. She took a deep breath, pocketed the lockpick, and headed toward the door at the opposite side of the foyer.