Author's Note: I'm back! And with some good news as well! The whole fanfic is already done (first rough draft version). I still need to do a lot of editing and revising, but that shouldn't take as long anymore. So that's why, I'm announcing that I'll be uploading two chapters at once, twice a week (four different chapters every week in total instead of just two). There's no specific day of the week on when the upload dates are gonna take place, but by the end of every Saturday, four separate chapters should already be uploaded by then. I'm probably setting myself up with a lot of work on my hands so no guarantees that this planned schedule will stick until the end.

One thing I forgot to fix in the previous chapter was that I mistakenly mentioned that Mason held the armor key. That's now been fixed to the helmet key so just to refresh some people's minds, Barry was given the armor key while Mason was given the helmet key. I'm not exactly going by video game logic so not every door in the mansion is actually locked like they're supposed to in the games lol.

And thank you for the reviews from over two months ago XD Sorry for the long hiatus but now that I'm back, I will try to answer them here as much as I can so here we go!

Adam Luck - Dude, no worries! And I'm really glad that you're enjoying the story so far! About David, yes, in 1998, he is about 19 years old. In this fanfic timeline, however, he never joined the Navy Seals. Though he was military trained by Woods himself for the most part, similar to how Chris taught Claire as well. And yes! You got one of my ideas right! A few of my readers have mentioned interest in David Mason being in RE2 so that's exactly what I plan on doing next for the sequel. Unfortunately, I'm not a good romantic writer, let alone know how to properly describe people's love interests or feelings so doing shippings may be quite a challenge for me. However, I may add subtle hints here and there, but that is probably the closest thing you'll ever get for a shipping from me lol. Thanks again!

evolution-500 -Really? I actually thought I made Wesker a bit more intimidating by having him slam a handful of dark information about some of the secrets from Umbrella, while also having Barry and Mason being blackmailed that's way out of their control. You know, the whole "now you know this information, but you can't tell anyone or otherwise" type of thing. Though I guess I did get a little too excited writing that part out hahaha. Glad you enjoyed the read though!

x-x-TheBurnedMan-x-x - Thanks, man! Hope you'll enjoy the upcoming chapters!

Again, thank you for the favorites and follows throughout the hiatus. You guys are awesome for keeping this whole thing alive for me! And Please! Keep the reviews coming! They're always welcomed. :)

Alrighty, let's jump right into the next overdue chapter!

Recommended BGM:

1. Resident Evil (Remake) - Statue with a Map

2. Resident Evil (1996) & Director's Cut (DualShock Ver.) - Where's Wesker

3. Resident Evil (1996) & Director's Cut (DualShock Ver.) - First Floor Mansion

Chapter 12

Wesker, Redfield, Valentine, Burton… no one was around.

Woods checked down in the tunnels below and above on the second floor of the main foyer and found nothing. Not even a single sign of a struggle. Almost as if the mansion itself had completely swallowed them whole and he was the only one left.

They had to find out about somethin'... it'd be the only thing that made sense for everyone to be gone. Unless—

The doors to the dining room on the first floor burst open and Woods quickly aimed his Beretta at the west wing, a humanoid figure who managed to pass through. However, through his blind state of paranoia, he managed to realize it was none other than Chris Redfield. He was seemingly relieved to see him but bore a vengeful look on his face, something he'd seen on any soldier who happened to have seen death caused by the enemy onto a beloved teammate, which made Woods slightly more concerned than before.

"Redfield!" He called out to him.

"Frank, you're alive!" Chris responded back, his vengeful expression slowly fading away, though still noticeable enough.

"Hey, uh…" Woods tried looking for the right words to ask him about anything in particular. He wasn't the best with emotions and all that crap, but he needed to sound sincere as he suspected that Chris might've found out about something extremely unpleasant or maybe even—

"Anything to report?" Woods hit himself mentally in the head for not thinking anything better than something so basic.

Chris hesitated for a moment. "Well, I… I— uh, just found Kenneth's mutilated body. Was it him that we heard the shooting from before—"

Woods slowly nodded silently, not knowing how to tell him about his first encounter with a zombie and it eating him alive.

"Damn…" Chris shook his head, breaking eye contact with Frank. "This place is insane!"

"Tell me about it," he responded. "I recently just killed a giant fuckin' snake right inside the library on the second and third floor. Could you even believe it?"

Chris' eyes grew wide open, suddenly shaking him out of his own thoughts.

"So… you saw it too?" He asked, curiously. "Are you okay?!"

"Just a small bruise on my arm, but I'll live," he replied before he immediately squinted at him in response to his former question. "And what did you mean by 'you saw it too'?"

Chris walked past him and began explaining the situation as he did, staring out into the main hall's empty space.

"I found Alex and Richard on the second floor, east wing, both of them alive. Alex told me Richie got poisoned by a 'giant venomous snake'. So I helped him escort him to where he'd told me where Rebecca was, who's now currently caring for Richard."

"Fuckin' a, I knew they were alive," said Woods, with a short-lived pride behind his voice. "But, what about your drinking buddy or the other Bravo captain?"

Chris turned around and made eye contact with him once again, with a much more worried look on his face.

"I don't know," he replied. "At first, I didn't want to believe it, but seeing that these walking dead corpses don't just walk, but can actually run and be more aggressive after coming back to life, that's when I realized anything nightmarish can become a reality here. And I'm worried that our team is in more serious danger than we've ever realized."

"Yeah I've seen some of that shit as well," Woods recalled as he thought about the crimson zombie he had to kill in that corridor before he entered the armor trap room. "Crimson skin, steaming, sharp claws…"

"So you know how to get rid of them for good, right?" Asked Chris cautiously. "Headshots won't do a damn thing to stop them from becoming those things so the only thing you can do is either burn those bastards to a crisp or destroy their heads completely. In other words, decapitate them."

Woods grew confused by what he was saying, giving him a glare of uncertainty. "Wait, so you're saying those walking shitstains don't die completely unless you burn'em or decapitate them?"

Chris nodded. "I have yet to give it a try, but yes, according to a note that Rebecca had found, that's exactly what needs to be done. That is why I've been ducking and avoiding them, rather than wasting ammo only for them to become more powerful over time."

As if things can't get any fuckin' worse by the minute…

Woods holstered his Berretta and took out the shotgun he found earlier, showing the possible solution to their crimson problem.

"This puppy does the trick," he said confidently. "Shot a dirtbag in the head and BAM, bye-bye fucker!"

"Where did you find that?" Asked Chris curiously, hoping there was some kind of hidden stash inside the mansion somewhere.

Woods strapped the shotgun on his back soon after and began explaining. "After killing the giant monstrosity I told you about, when it died, it hit one of the storage wooden boxes with enough force to break them apart and that's where I found this shotgun, paired with a pack of twelve shells lying about." He immediately switched to another topic. "So, where's Mason or the rest of our team?"

"Alex told me he's currently on the search for the others. Jill and Barry went looking for you, but I'm not sure where they may be now. As for Wesker, he just disappeared without a trace," he explained as he then remembered something else he forgot to mention. "Oh! And according to a journal Alex and I found earlier and some research papers Rebecca found herself, the cause of all this mess is some sort of virus. It's not known how this virus spreads, but it's definitely not airborne. And we have a leading theory that Umbrella may be behind all of this, but to what extent, we do not know yet."

"A virus?" Said Woods, with slight disbelief in his voice. "But if a virus is what caused all of this then—"

Another severe pulsating headache came out of nowhere, which caused Woods to scream in pain as he didn't quite expect it to be quite so soon and sudden, now of all times, in front of a helpless Chris, who didn't know what to do to help.

"Frank? Frank! Hey, hey, hey don't you die on me!" He grabbed him on his shoulders as Woods crouched, feeling an unbearable amount of pain inside his head, voices around him starting to clear up with his vision changing from inside the main hall, to the same place he remembered being captured alive back in 86'.

It was another flash memory coming back to him.

"Administering 'β II'… —now,"

It was the same voice from before, though it was still as muffled as he remembered.

It was followed by screams of his comrade, pleading for his life. He was in the process of turning into one of those "things" … or worse.

"I want him studied," the same voice said as his flash memory was becoming clearer, enough to hear the entire conversation the muffled voice had. "He's the last test subject. If all else fails, I want another interrogation set up with Sgt. Frank Woods once again by dawn and if he continues to be uncooperative, throw him inside the container, along with the rest of the failed experiments, and let him rot for all I care."

Then he came to.

That voice… could it be—? No… it can't be. No, no, NO!

"Look at me!"

Woods threw a blind punch at Chris in response, almost knocking him to the ground. His heart racing as his head was still feeling the after-effects of the sudden ache that had gone away just as quickly as it came, still crouched to the ground as he began to realize who he ended up punching in the process.

"Shit, my bad, I—"

Chris stood up in pain all over his chest, almost having the wind knocked out of him, but despite getting punched really hard by him, he felt more concerned for his Alpha teammate regardless.

"You're not infected, are you?" He asked, worriedly. "I don't know if this virus causes hallucinations or something similar in particular but…"

Woods thought about telling him about his recurring visions and everything that has led him and Mason to be a part of STARS, but he felt there was much more to do other than worrying about whether or not to go through with it. By also remembering Hudson's warning about not trusting anyone on STARS, he soon developed second thoughts about it.

"No, I'm sure I ain't infected," he said in reassurance. "I… I've been having these episodes way before me and Mason became STARS."

That's all anyone needs to know. At least for the time being. I'm sorry Chris…

"And you didn't tell this to anyone, why?" Chris wondered, crouching next to him as he did. "Don't you think you need to seek some professional he—"

"I DON'T NEED YOUR FUCKIN' PITY, CHRISTOPHER!" He yelled back, scaring Chris away for a moment. He immediately felt bad for lashing out at him, but now it wasn't the time to be playing self-pity games, especially when someone else plays it for you. He was simply too focused on who was the voice inside his mind. If his suspicions were right on exactly who it was that brought him hell all those years ago, he knew for sure that he would make them pay for everything they had done to him and his team back then.

Woods gave a deep sigh and stood up, not even bothering to provide eye contact with Chris.

"Let's just continue our search and investigation elsewhere."

Chris slightly opened his mouth to say something to him, but quickly decided against it. He knew that Frank wasn't in his right mind one way or another, but he was ultimately right. They needed to search for the rest of their STARS teammates and come up with a plan to escape and expose whatever happened here in the Arklay area.

You better not be infected, Frank. I'm not willing to lose another teammate yet again…

The doorknob rattled in place, refusing to open.

Damn! Another one locked!

The previous door Jill had tried had a carving of an armor, similar to the one she'd seen in the corridor after her last encounter with one of the mutant dogs that broke inside the house. This one, however, had an emblem of sorts, describing it as "Spencer's Study Room". Not a single carving on the lock though, which meant it was most likely where Spencer would spend most of his time, alone, without anyone bothering him. Or at least that's what it initially was supposed to be before the mansion "closed" and this whole area wasn't housing monstrosities around every corner of the place.

She'd almost forgotten about the dead end a certain door in the previous corridor led to. Thinking there could be some clues as to what happened in the mansion or if there was anything of use that could help in their escape, she walked back to where she came in from, skipping over the corpses of the zombies she had last killed.

Back into the dull-green wallpapered corridor, she looked at the map once again and the door right up front showed that it led to some square-shaped room and onto a larger one, twice as big.

With her muscles fully tensed, she slowly turned the knob and creaked the door open, crouching and aiming her Samurai Edge blankly inside.

The small room was exactly as it was pictured on the map; square-shaped, yet completely empty, devoid of anything in particular, except two lighting sources fixed in place opposite of each other and a logo on the ground, which seemed to represent the Umbrella Corporation.

Getting her posture straight, she gazed upon her surroundings, the ceiling so high up, she could feel the height of her whole house fitting inside with some space to spare. The artwork on the wallpaper across the walls was of what seemed to be an entire village gathering of sorts. She was never quite interested in ancient history so most of it didn't exactly click anything in particular inside of her mind; whether it had any real significance or not.

Through the only other door in the room, she slowly opened the cold latch, her gun tight in her other hand as she swept around the room; she was all alone.

Relieved and relaxed, she took a deep breath and took a good look at the furniture and environment around her. There was a coat hanger right next to her, two sets of brightly lit lamps hanging on the east and west side of the walls, a fireplace set on the right with the antlers of a deer hanging just above the mantle holding a set of unlit candelabras, a clock, and two small horse statues. Picture frames were hung on the walls, showing various different landscapes, and a leather, modern sofa with a coffee table set in the middle of the room, and a chandelier in the center, lighting up the entire area for a much cleaner view.

Against the back wall in the center was—

A pump-action shotgun!

It was neatly mounted on a pair of hooks, illuminated by the two antique lamps, giving it a shiny, brand new-like look over it. Jill grinned and hurried across the room, unable to believe her sudden miracle.

For the love of God, please be loaded…

As she stopped to observe it further, she quickly recognized the model. Guns weren't exactly her main thing, but based on the type of guns she's seen in one of the vintage action movies both she and her father used to watch together, it's a Winchester Model 1897, which can hold up to six shells.

She holstered the Beretta and began lifting the shotgun with both hands, still grinning.

Her smile faded as soon as she heard and saw both mounting hooks click and move upward, released from the weight of the gun. There was another click and rattle behind the wall, though much heavier than before; a sound like balanced metal changing position.

What did I just do?

She didn't know what it was, but she didn't like any of it.

She thought about putting it back immediately, but her real need for a high-powered weapon was of extreme importance if she wanted to take out monsters much more efficiently than before.

She looked everywhere, turning around as she scanned every inch of the room, anything moving. It was as still as it had been when she arrived; silent, no unnatural moaning, no hellhound breaking and entering, no sudden flashing lights or alarms, nothing fell off the walls. There was no indication that it had been a trap of any kind.

Relieved once again, she examined the weapon further and found it completely loaded. The owner must've taken care of it, the barrel shining and clean, smelling faintly of some sort of chemical cleaner and oil. As of right now, it was the best smell she could possibly imagine smelling inside the entire morgue of a mansion. The solid weight in her hands was reassuring, the weight of power over the decaying mutants the STARS were trapped with.

She continued to search for the rest of the room, even under the couch itself but was disappointed to find that there wasn't any hidden stash of shells anywhere inside. Still, the M97 was a nice find. It didn't have any belt straps to carry it over, but at the very least, the vest she was carrying held a back holster for a shotgun or rifle, and wouldn't have to carry it with her hands at all times.

She couldn't wait to go back to the main hall and meet up with Barry to report back about her recent discoveries. Even though she didn't have any particular clue as to where to find said key object to open the back door of the mansion, the very least she could tell him was that a way out through there could be their next best shot, even if those dogs from outside were still around.

Maybe after meeting up with him, she could head to the second floor next and continue her search upstairs, maybe even finding Chris in the process and tell him about everything she had found by far and see what he had found himself as well.

And then after that, look for our other missing teammates, work together to find that stupid key object, and then, hopefully, get the hell out of this morgue.

She opened and closed the door behind her, still thinking if Barry had already found Frank and Wesker as they most definitely didn't come this way.

The door across was locked, the knob rattling, but refusing to turn all the way. She checked the narrow slot in which the door met the frame, hoping it wasn't an automatic lock somehow, but there it was; a silver, metal dead-lock tightly placed across, and a very solid one that wouldn't easily give in by mere lockpicking. Even if she wanted to, the keyhole was on the knob itself, which was out of the question at that point.

Click!

A loud, rusted sound came directly from above, gears turning as dust rained down from all directions above with a deep rhythmic clatter of metal from somewhere behind the wallpapered walls.

What the?

Becoming nervous and anxious as the seconds flew by, feeling her stomach tightening itself up as her breath caught in her throat, she looked up. The high ceiling she'd admired earlier was moving, the ripped wallpaper above the walls sliding apart with dust coming down as the heavy grind of stone scraped against them. It was definitely slowly coming down to crush her.

In a sudden rush of adrenaline, she instinctively dashed towards the back door to the shotgun room, trying to push down the handle

…and found it locked, as firmly as the last.

Oh, God! What am I gonna do NOW?!

Panic was now settling in and all she could think about was how to get either door open, her frightened gaze drawn back to the descending ceiling. At the rate that it's going, about two to three inches per second, it'd touch the ground in less than a minute.

Jill readied the shotgun towards the door out to the corridor, her last desperate attempt to get out of the trap she thought was non-existent earlier. She didn't care how many shots it would take to break apart the reinforced steel dead-bolt; it was all she had, her Beretta would be useless against it as they were hollowed rounds, flattening on impact, and her picks wouldn't do a thing at all, let alone the time she had left.

She fired the shotgun, the thundering loud blast exploding against the wooden door, splinters flying across as a few of them managed to scratch her arms and face. These tiny wounds were nothing compared to the fate that awaited her. However, the blast revealed exactly what she feared.

The metal plate that supported the bolt extended halfway across the door. Her mind raced for a quick solution, but could not find any. She didn't have enough to blow it open all the way and even if she ended up shooting her way through the frame itself, it wouldn't come close to opening either way.

Still, it won't kill me to give it another go.

She fired again, this time, targeting the frame itself. Another thunderous sound wave echoed as the shot tore apart the wood and chipped parts of the wall, but just as she expected, it wasn't enough. Not at all.

With her mind going blank and nothing to go by, her subconscious slowly grew to accept her fate, though she herself couldn't accept the fact that she was about to go out like this; crushed to death by a trap she should've been smart enough to figure out on her own, the ceiling being less than ten feet away from touching the ground.

"WESKER, FRANK, BARRY, ANYONE!? HELP!"

Her pleas were mostly going to be in vain, but it's all she's got now. If within a few seconds they weren't there to save her, that was it for her.

"Jill! You in there!?"

Jill felt a sudden rush of desperate hope coursing through her veins in response to the sound of the familiar muffled voice calling out to her from the other side of the door in front of her.

"BARRY! GET ME OUTTA HERE! THE DOOR'S JAMMED!" Jill shouted with all her might, the highest she's ever done in her life, the ceiling now closer to just less than six feet away, making Jill go down to a crouch.

"Stand back!"

Jill stood back, struggling to take several steps as she was now finding herself hugging the ground as much as she could, hearing a heavy blowing round strike the door on the other side.

Her heart kept pounding louder and louder as her terrified gaze kept switching between the door and the ceiling.

Two more continuous blows were heard, splinters flying through and the light of the corridor was finally revealed, Barry kicking the remains of the door itself, crumbling half of the door apart.

The shaking of the floor itself was unsettling. Jill could now feel the vibrating trap inching closer to her, now just less than two feet away from crushing her.

"Grab my hand!" Barry ordered.

She did as she was told, not holding back at all as she was now flat on the ground, letting herself get pulled by Barry as the ceiling barely touched the tip of her boot.

The violent pull made Barry stumble back down, crashing to the ground just behind a relieved Jill as both of them saw a small glimpse of the remaining space there was to be seen underneath the broken door as the ceiling pummeled to the ground, giving off a final resonating boom of impact.

The ceiling has now met the ground. It was over. The house again was as silent as a tomb. Jill couldn't keep her eyes off the half-crumbled door, still thinking about what if Barry wasn't there to save her in time.

She gave a deep sigh of relief.

"Phew! Barry…" she was out of words. She didn't know what else to say to him.

"You okay?" Barry asked as he stood up and helped a deeply grateful Jill.

Jill didn't answer for a moment. She looked back at the shotgun she still held in her shaky hands, remembering how confident she was one minute and then the next, terrified for her life. She thought about how stupid it was, dying over something she could've easily prevented herself, the shotgun almost costing her life, but thanks to Barry, she could now be able to enjoy what the gun had to offer her with new firepower.

"Yeah, thanks to you," she finally replied.

"That was too close. A second later, you would've been a Jill sandwich."

Jill chuckled for a bit and smiled gratefully, nodding back. However, he seemed a little… strange, almost as though the humor was somehow forced and not genuine.

Odd. He's the type of guy to eat danger for breakfast and crap it out by dinner. Why the forced tone? Though is it any wonder? I mean… this mansion is full of monsters and possibly traps as well. It isn't exactly a laughing matter, to say the least anyway.

Jill then began to wonder about something else that was somewhat bothering her.

"Barry, didn't you say you were going to search the west wing of the mansion, back to the dining room? I mean I'm glad and all, but why are you here?"

Barry hesitated to answer her question, his face becoming slightly pale as his eyes avoided contact with her. He obviously hadn't found Frank or Wesker. However, the strangeness from Barry's expression only grew by the second, until he then told her his part of the story, retracing the steps he'd taken, his tone hinting at a certain belief that they were both still alive somewhere in the mansion. Jill simply leaned against the wall, listening to him as she closed her eyes for some rest and comfort, glad to still be able to hear another human voice conversing with her.

"...and that's when I heard the shots. I immediately ran to investigate and then heard your muffled screams from somewhere."

Barry rubbed his head, absently, seemingly as though he was mentally exhausted, which Jill couldn't blame him for, after the whole mess this house has offered to them so far.

"Well, I'm glad you were here, regardless of the reason why," she said as she opened her eyes to look at him. "I owe you one."

Barry flushed slightly as he grinned hesitantly, still avoiding eye contact with her. "Glad I was able to help," he said softly. "Just be more careful around here. This mansion is much more dangerous than we've initially thought."

She nodded back, thinking how close she was to dying. She trembled slightly but immediately shoved those thoughts aside. As of right now, they needed to find the rest of their team and more specifically, Frank and Wesker. "So, you think they're still alive, right?"

"I'm positive," he responded. "Besides a trail of shell casings, there were corpses of those freaks in the other wing, both first and second floors. A couple of them were almost completely red-skinned. Something to do with zombies becoming crimson or whatever. Gotta be Frank or other Bravo members that killed them, though there were a couple more to deal with so I figure someone there is still holed up somewhere."

Barry motioned at the double doors near them. "Before I came here, I saw a back door to use in order to escape from here, but it requires some sort of object to open. You didn't happen to run into anything in particular, other than that shotgun you're carrying, right?

Jill frowned, a bit surprised at the sudden change of topic. He's had a close relationship with Frank due to the similar morales they'd found in each other. To think he'd be that quick in being dismissive about it…

"No, not that I could find. All I found was this shotgun and nothing else. Pretty dumb for me to almost lose my life over it, I know, but…" she then decided to switch the subject herself, setting some priorities first. "I think it'd be best if we search for Wesker and Frank first, together this time. There's no telling what they may have stumbled into at this point. Plus, we don't even know if that back door even leads anywhere to safety. Not to mention it'll take ages to find whatever we need to open the metal door."

Barry shook his head, still thinking about what Jill had just told him, rubbing his beard absently.

"I mean, you're not wrong. We should definitely go looking for them, but there are still a lot of rooms to explore and our first priority has got to be securing an escape route for the team to get out of this place anyway. If we split up, we can try looking for this peculiar item and look for Frank and Wesker along the way."

His sudden change of behavior was still prominent. Jill couldn't help but notice how uncomfortable and unsettled Barry was in front of her, still looking at the double doors absently, though seemingly to try and continue avoiding eye contact with her.

"Besides," he continued, "at least we now know this mansion has traps installed. As long as we are a bit more cautious, we'll be fine."

"Are you okay, Barry?" She asked out of concern for her teammate, looking at his facial features a little bit closer. "You seem a little… tired." It wasn't the right word, but it was the first thing that she could come up with.

He sighed, finally looking in her direction. There were definitely hints of him being tired; dark, hollow circles around his eyes and his wide muscular shoulders were beaten to a slump.

"No, I'm alright. Just worried about the situation we are all in at the moment."

Jill nodded, but she couldn't fully accept that as a definitive answer. There was more than just that. Something had Barry bothered by the core, it was somehow seemingly making him feel somewhat subdued and defeated.

Paranoid much? This is the same Barry Burton who saved your life just minutes earlier and you're thinking he's hiding something from you? C'mon … he's simply exhausted by all of this and who could possibly blame him for it? Certainly not you!

Jill felt she was most likely being overly suspicious, considering what she's been through, and after the mysterious encounter with that Hudson guy at the RPD and that strange micro-computer he gave to Frank, she wasn't exactly feeling particularly trusting. However, she could not find the slightest reason to distrust Barry or even Frank, who may still have that computer with him, especially after her life was saved by both men themselves.

Yes, keep rationalizing. Next thing, you'll be suspecting the Bravo or Alpha Captain of planning this whole thing.

Now that was being paranoid at its finest. Jill laughed at herself mentally and pushed herself away from the wall as she now switched her full attention to Barry.

"Anyway, I should go back to the west wing and see if I can pick up anyone's trail from there," he said. "You should definitely head upstairs and start looking if Chris might've found anything himself or see if there are other places he might've yet to check. That way we can investigate every room much quicker and work our way back to the main hall once we've fully searched every nook and cranny."

Jill nodded and Barry started marching towards the winding corner at the back, his footsteps echoing through.

"Thank you, Barry," she said with full gratitude, "about earlier."

"Don't mention it," he softly called out over his shoulder. He then continued facing down, tracing his steps as he disappeared out into the other side of the corridor, a door finally opening and closing as it creaked faintly in the distance.

Jill was now left alone where she was last conversing with Barry, in the silent chilling corridor beside a brightly lit sconce above her.

It wasn't just her imagination. The demeanor he had just before he left, has left her with the impression that Barry was keeping something from her.

But to what extent or severity she did not know. Was it something she needed to worry about or was he simply trying to protect her from an ugly truth?

Maybe he found one of the Alphas, dead, and didn't want to tell me.

It wasn't a nice thought, but the way he kept insisting about Frank and Wesker still being alive, it didn't help matters to think it could be the complete opposite …or worse. And the fact that he was now more worried about an escape route than looking for either of them and keeping Jill in the east wing…

No… could it be?

Maybe she was trying too hard to find a motive that didn't even exist. Barry must've been scared, just like her, and sick of staying inside a house full of death everywhere.

Stop thinking about anything and simply, do your job. Whether you like it or not, you have to go upstairs and start looking for anyone or anything. The faster we do this, the faster we can get out of here and let the people of the city know what's out here.

Jill gave a deep sigh and headed into the double doors and reached the only door she hasn't been in yet. However, past the decaying bodies, there was a strange, muffled sound coming from the door that was locked earlier. The door with the armor carving on the lock was slightly opened. If she remembered correctly, it led to a small U-shaped corridor that headed straight to the cemetery, exactly where she needed to go.

Has Barry found a key to open it? If so, why didn't he tell me about it?

Having had enough of theorizing for the past few minutes, she decided to put those thoughts aside and check out what was inside the door, drawing her sidearm and putting away the shotgun in order to conserve the limited ammo she had for the firearm.

She began to wonder how many more hidden traps there were going to be in this hellhole of a house and whether or not they were all going to make it out of here alive.