Author's Note: Before continuing, I'd like to do a full response to the only one review so far after chapters 14 & 15. Skip this whole part if you're not interested and want to go straight into the chapter itself.

Adam Luck - No worries! I do fully encourage long, in-depth reviews so to me, it's even better to have! About the story's future, I really only have varying outlines of possibilities for 2, 3, and Code Veronica. Anything past that, I have no clue what's in store for any character so I can't say what I plan on doing with David's future. Though your idea of having him join the Navy Seals at a later time and later on, joining either the BSAA, TerraSave, or USSTRATCOM (since the DSO doesn't exist until 2011), is pretty neat. If I were to plan on doing a story post-Code Veronica, it probably would be either Operation: Javier or Umbrella's End/Dark Legacy. After that, depending on where I may lead David's life, I could do RE4 with him partnering up with Leon, or do a time skip and have him be involved with the events of Revelations 2. There are countless possibilities for David Mason since like you said, he is a natural-born soldier after all, but I'd like to leave all that for another time lol. Also, I haven't exactly planned out Menendez's involvement properly, but who knows? Like I said at the very beginning of the first chapter, his involvement is pretty much non-existent or irrelevant to the current story and new mysteries await as this story progresses so look forward to more chapters to come! Trust me, I love Raul Menendez as a villain and troubled character so just because he has little to no involvement here, doesn't mean I dislike his character as a whole. And thanks for letting me know about how I'm doing with Woods and Mason so far! It really means a lot! :)

Recommended BGM:

1. Resident Evil (Remake) - Guardhouse I

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

3. Resident Evil (Remake) - Macabre Hallway

Chapter 16

Jill had already searched the storage room just underneath a set of stairs after opening the only door she hadn't gone through inside the dark hall connecting the gallery room and the mansion's back door. Nothing was inside, other than several rusted carpentry tools and a set of boxes containing bags of fertilizer and weed-killing chemicals.

Not long after, she began to hear a series of footsteps somewhere nearby, halting as she listened closely. The footsteps then stopped and a door was heard next, opening and shutting after.

Someone must be upstairs.

It could've been anybody from STARS. With this in mind, it prompted a hurried pace to go upstairs and try to locate which door was the one that was used recently.

The first door she came across was one with an armor carving on the lock. She half-expected the door to be locked after seeing the carving on the key plate, but before going through, she decided to continue the long path all the way down, until she hit a turn and was met with another door at the very end.

The door was unlocked and so she closely began monitoring what was inside as she slowly crept in, noticing the obvious vacancy inside the room. There was nothing else in particular, other than an old, unlit fireplace with some misplaced furniture around close to the window on her left. A couple of chairs were knocked in the way and what seemed to be a flower pot was on the ground, broken to bits with a dead pair of withered flowers lying in between the shards themselves.

No death masks anywhere so far…

The other door across the room had a carving of a helmet onto the lock, the knob refusing to turn even at the slightest twist. It was somewhat of a good thing for her since it would narrow down the search quite a bit, though missing keys to open certain rooms of the mansion would make finding the masks a much more difficult task if they were unfortunately located in those locked rooms.

With nothing else left to do inside, she went back to the winding path and reached over the armor-carved door which surprisingly enough, the knob gave a smooth turn and she carefully opened the door slowly, her gun readied in hand.

Nothing, in particular, was inside as well, other than a stuffed deer's head on top, filled with cobwebs all over. There were two other doors to go to on each side. On her right was a fallen broken picture frame on the ground, with another one barely hanging on with the nail on the wall ready to give in at any moment. There were three-lined deep claw marks through the wallpaper.

What could've done that?

Though she had never seen any monsters that had claws that big, she didn't really want to know exactly what had made those claw marks and immediately rushed to the other door, trying not to dwell too much on the thought of what kind of creature slashed through the whole wall with that much force.

"Ah!"

The person inside the room, which Jill had just entered abruptly, became perturbed as they immediately threw a small folder to the ground in response to her having come in by surprise. It was the same man who had saved her earlier, Barry Burton. She was still perplexed as to why he was even here on this side of the mansion once again, but at the same time, she was glad to see him here regardless. After all, the company of an ordinary human being was better than having a foul zombie or two with you, trying to take a chunk out of you for a midnight snack.

"Sorry," she said apologetically as she picked up the folder he had in his hand. "I didn't mean to get you that excited."

"Right," Barry gave a small chuckle before his tone shifted immediately into a more serious one. "Anyway, you should give that a read."

Jill turned her attention to the folder and opened it, revealing a series of small pieces of papers attached to the folder itself, with a piece apparently having been torn off.

I sit here trying to think of where to begin, of how to explain in a few simple words all that's happened in my life since we last spoke, and already I fail.

I hope this letter finds you well, and that you'll forgive the tangents of my pen; this isn't easy for me.

Even as I write, I can feel the simplest of concepts slipping away, lost to feelings of despair and confusion - but I have to tell you what's in my heart before I can rest. Alma, please believe that what I'm telling you is the truth.

The entire story would take hours for me to tell you, and time is short, so accept these things as fact: last month there was an accident in the lab, and the virus we were studying leaked.

All my colleagues who were infected are dead or dying, and the nature of the disease is such that those still living have lost their senses. This virus robs its victims of their humanity, forcing them in their sickness to seek out and destroy life.

Even as I write these words, I can hear them, pressing against my door like mindless, hungry animals.

Alma, I have tried to survive only to see you again. But my efforts only delayed the inevitable; I am infected, and there is no cure for what will follow - except to end my life before I lose the only thing that separates me from them.

My love for you.

In an hour I'll have entered my eternal sleep where there is peace.

Please understand. Please know that I'm sorry.

Martin Kluckhon

Jill sighed. She now knew that the creatures they've encountered so far were victims of their own research. She felt bad for them, but even if they were doing it for the better of humanity, why even risk researching such a virus if the risks were too great to cause something as nightmarish as this?

"What do you make of it?" Asked Barry, seeing as though she had already finished reading through the entire thing.

"Well, for starters, I guess we were right about this mansion being quite unnatural," she said, pointing out the obvious.

"You have a way with understatements," he replied, looking back elsewhere.

Jill proceeded to further examine the torn piece of paper that was missing inside the folder, wondering what could've been written on said missing piece.

"You have any clue as to what happened to this torn part?"

"Not one," he said stoically. "Tried looking at every nook and cranny around here and found nothing. Perhaps someone deliberately tore it on purpose and got rid of it for good."

Jill nodded, thinking it was a potential possibility, but then… Why tear one part off and leave the rest intact? The summary as to what happened in the mansion was still there, serving as circumstantial evidence in itself, so what was so important with the information that went missing?

"Anyway, I'm gonna head out and continue our investigation," Barry said quickly, without giving Jill a chance to even tell him anything at all.

"Wait, Barry—!"

And he was gone, having closed the door behind him.

Jill frowned. Once again, she felt there was something Barry wasn't telling her. Ever since he saved her from the ceiling trap, he had given her a bit of a cold shoulder, and after this, she now needed to find out why.

Maybe she could've gotten a direct answer from him if she had just asked him outright, confronting him about it.

…Or maybe not. Either way, I have to find out more somehow.

Regardless, Jill decided to look around the room herself. The walls were decorated with boring brown wallpaper. A random fish tank with a dead medium-sized orange fish was located on the back wall, making Jill wonder what type of experiments might they have done with the poor fish. Beside the left side of the door was a collection of fishing lures hanging on a frame against the wall, with a coat hanger and a few empty boxes on the right side. There was no ID on the hanging coat. Just in front of the coat hanger was another collection of sorts, but this time, with actual dead bug specimens. There was nothing of particular interest inside the room, even from where Barry was last standing in front of the only desk inside.

It seemed as though Martin, or whoever lived here, was merely interested in fishing and aquatic animals as a hobby of their own and so Jill finally decided to leave the room and investigate the other door she hadn't been in.

Arriving at the other room, she realized it was merely just a bedroom. The furniture inside was covered in filth; picture frames were blurred in dust, the desklamp shined through a thick layer of dust, and books and papers stacked together on top of a drawer were all left untouched. However, the bed and the desk next to it were as if they had some use not too long ago. The bed was unmade, its bed sheets halfway falling to the ground with spots of blood all over one side of the bed, and the desk itself was left open and emptied as if someone had snatched something from there and left in a hurry.

There were also some bloody bare footprints of someone who may not have had the time to leave the room as they led directly underneath the bed. Curious enough, Jill slowly crouched and pulled up some of the bloodied bed sheets, only to be met with a dead, mauled corpse of someone who met an unfortunate end while they hid underneath the bed, the foul smell of decay hitting her nostrils in a sudden, but unpleasant surprise. As she quickly gasped and covered her mouth, she spotted a small metal box, full of shells, grabbed it, and immediately pulled herself out of there.

If she could've guessed, it may have been that Martin guy, who probably didn't even manage to turn before he was finished off by his other mindless infected colleagues, hungry for fresh meat. Jill shivered at the thought, but at the very least, she was grateful to find some ammo for the M97. However, she was still disappointed that there was no mask or key to be found anywhere at all.

She took out the folded parchment and took a quick look at her bearings. She already searched what she could on the second floor in the section in which she had first climbed upstairs. Through the area where she had first come in from, there was a door that led to a wide, U-shaped corridor that angled back at the main foyer. The corridor connected to two rooms, one to a dead end and another leading to a few more rooms. The map itself showed the mansion to be a really big one, but looking now that she had already made her way close back to the main hall, it wasn't as big as the map made it seem to be. With the monsters around, however, it also made it feel like an endless maze of nightmares across every corner.

She put away the map and drew her Beretta, making her way back and up into the U-shaped corridor.

Jill noticed the same foul smell again before she actually saw a dead zombie's corpse farther down the corridor, crumpled to the floor with half of its head blown off, brain mush having been splashed all around the drapes leading back to a corner.

The small lamp next to her casted an uneven glow over the corner of the corridor, the shadows of the drapes themselves overcasting most of the decaying body in front of her. She trained her weapon, closely monitoring the unseen parts of the corner and a door was heard closing somewhere nearby.

Barry?

The evidence was all pointing to him having done the messy work against the fallen zombie itself. As far as Jill knew, he was the only one who had a weapon capable of throwing such firepower against a zombie's decomposing brain.

Maybe he's still around here somewhere.

It was her chance at confronting Barry, about earlier.

Eager to have another quick chat with him, she hurried down the dim, gloomy hallway. A sudden fresh wave of decay washed over her and another corpse she hadn't seen through the darkness of the ground had managed to grapple at her boot, pulling at her ankle with surprising strength.

A startled Jill waved her arms to keep her balance, accidentally dropping her gun in the process as she screamed out in disgust, the hungry creature easing closer with its rotting face toward her boot. Its skeletal fingers flailed across her boot weakly, seeking a firmer grip as it gave a low moan of determination. Without giving it a second thought, she instinctively brought her other boot down towards the back of its frail head, the heavy part of her boot sliding hard against its sickening skull. A wide piece of its scalp tore away, revealing its outer glistening bone. Pain was non-existent to the creature itself as it kept clutching her boot with strength she could not even have herself.

Three more kicks to the back of its neck managed to finally generate a quick snapping sound of vertebrae giving out, crushed within its own jugular.

The pale, bloodied hands slumped to the ground and with a final gurgling moan, the zombie settled and became as unmoving as the other corpse next to it against the camouflaging carpet of the corridor's darkness.

Jill picked up her custom Beretta and skipped over both corpses, thinking just how much she will never be able to get used to the sight and smell of the walking dead, swallowing back bile in the process. After reading that letter from earlier, she was fully convinced that the ugly creatures roaming the halls were victims just as much as the missing people she had to work cases on and releasing them to their deaths was a kindness to their former selves, but they were also a menace; dangerous beings and morbidly detrimental. She had to be more cautious next time.

There was a pair of doors to her right, heavy in structure with metal designs all over them. Through the dim lighting from the pair of wall sconces surrounding the doors, she was able to see a carving of armor over the key plate itself, but like some of the doors she had come across downstairs, it was locked.

Frowning, she slowly approached the other corner of the corridor, her gun raised as she took her time checking both on the ground and in front of her, making sure there were no more surprises from this point forward.

The furniture she had come across in the corridor was all covered in filth as the last, just like most of what she had seen throughout the mansion. It was as though it hadn't seen much use for at least several weeks or a couple of months now, possibly since the murders and disappearances started occurring within the outskirts of the city itself.

She came across another door that had a carving of an armor on the lock, but this time, it was an unlocked door, much to her relief. As she slowly opened the door, another sudden wave of decay hit her again and the door was only able to be opened halfway as there was a slumped corpse just behind it, accidentally hitting it with the door.

The corpse itself was unlike any other she had seen and she'd remember Barry telling her something about "zombies becoming crimson". She deduced that in zombies that die, their bodies later become a crimson-like color, probably due to their unique decomposition since, after all, zombies technically die a "second" time after their former selves may have died already so who knew how their biology even worked.

Closing the door as fast as she could, she took no chances as she immediately ran towards the angeling corridor that was shaped like an L. On the other side were spots of blood, looking as though someone may have thrown up blood and bile all over the ground. She hoped it was the dead zombie in question and not any of her colleagues that may have done this.

Chris… I hope you're okay.

For a moment, she had completely forgotten that Chris was the one who went here to search upstairs for the gunshot they had heard here initially as well. If it was someone from Bravo, she hoped Chris was already with them and searching the mansion elsewhere, both of them alive and well.

Before she could open the door in front of her, there was an unusual guttural sound she had never heard from a zombie before; more ferocious and monstrous, if that was even a possible description for the monsters roaming about.

Startled, she trained her Beretta in the direction she had come in from, feeling slightly relieved that the creature in the back didn't wake up near her. But she also wondered that if it was indeed the same zombie she had just passed, then what did the crimson skin color mean—?

RAUGHRW!

The wet growl was heard again and this time, it sounded as if it was now running towards her, bare footsteps stomping harshly against the floor itself as it came out directly in front of her sights, gasping at the terrible features this zombie had that none other had ever shown. Long grown claws on all four limbs, its teeth longer and sharper than even the ones she'd seen from the mutant dogs, its eyes representing a ghastly gaze from death itself, its body steaming all over, and worst of all, it seemed as though its bloodlust would stop at nothing to get its meal of the day.

Frightened for her life, she decided against engaging the bloodlusted zombie head-on and quickly opened and shut the door behind her, hoping it would at least slow it down as she holstered her Beretta and proceeded to take out her shotgun in order to kill it with better firepower. The crimson zombie loudly banged against the door, slashing whatever it could against the wooden structure. Before she could even grab the M97 from her back holster, however, another zombie from her right side had now grappled her by surprise, its decaying face inching closer to her left shoulder as it opened its foul mouth for a good bite. The crimson monster was now just seconds away from entering the room as it was now finishing slashing its way through.

NO!

This made Jill enter into a frenzy of extreme panic and instinctively, she took out her stun gun and held it pressed against the zombie's peeling temple, opening a window of opportunity to escape from its clutching arms as it spasmed spontaneously in response to a sudden big discharge of electricity pumped directly into its decomposing skull, quickly frying its insides during the process as it began to emanate a foul smell of burnt decaying flesh. Not long after, it had already crumpled to the ground, dead.

She found herself breathing frantically through the horrible smell, though she did not care enough as the other monster was almost effortlessly clawing its way through the frail wooden door. She tried calming herself down as she began grabbing the M97, running all the way back to where another door was located through the long hall near a flickering sconce, making it somewhat hard to see.

It didn't take long before the crimson zombie broke through and came into view, its deathly eyes set on Jill's frightened gaze through the flickering light as she fired a thundering rain of pellets hitting just about everywhere in the narrow corridor, slightly staggering the steaming zombie in its place.

Jill quickly pumped out the empty shell and fired again, this time, hitting the crimson zombie all across its chest, steaming blood seeping out as chunks of flesh splattered all across the area it was standing on. This shot, however, only managed to enrage it more, sounding progressively demonic as it growled louder in fury and quickly dashed faster as it had begun to do a swipe attack against her.

She didn't have enough time to pump out the next shell before the monster was already less than a couple of feet away from her and she'd found herself sliding directly underneath the zombie's rotting legs as she finished pumping the shotgun before finally turning her whole body around and began shooting the back of its head from the ground, feeling the immense power of the shotgun as the knockback painfully hit her arms and waist, causing Jill to flinch in response. She had heard the zombie cripple to the ground as brain matter splashed all over the ceiling, with spots of warm, almost boiling blood hitting her forehead and cheeks. She twitched in disgust as she tried wiping out the scarlet spots with her left hand as quickly as possible.

As she stood up, she began to feel pain in her muscles across her arm and waist.

Agh… wouldn't recommend using a shotgun from the ground aiming upwards. Such a bad idea!

But she was glad that she was still alive and somehow, managed to pull through all the surprises she's had recently. There have been so many ways she could've ended up dying in one single night, but against all odds, here she was.

And quite the badass I must say.

Despite having faced death multiple times already, there were no words to describe the feeling of having overcome difficult, almost impossible feats not many people in the world could possibly do and experience.

She stepped closer to the crimson zombie she had just killed and examined it further with what little light she could have from the flickering sconce at the back. Most of its head was gone as a pool of thick, almost steaming blood enveloped all around the small area of what little remained of its skull. It was definitely unlike any zombie she's encountered thus far. Its talons were unusually long and it had developed fang-like teeth, impossible for the human body to even have. But then again, zombies were an impossible existence in itself, at least up until now.

And if what Barry said was true, then killing ordinary zombies would turn them into these horrible monsters over time.

Ordinary wasn't the right word anyway but it was now, after seeing the nightmarish mutant she had to deal with not so long ago.

Maybe that's what has been keeping him over the edge… but that doesn't necessarily explain his ongoing strange attitude and behavior. Gonna ask him anyway when the time comes.

Still feeling the shock and pain she received from the huge knockback of the M97, she was more determined than ever to go search for those remaining masks, or any other key for that matter, and get the hell out of the mansion as fast as possible.

There was a sudden, but distant shouting somewhere nearby. The echoing voice felt somewhat familiar, almost chilling due to the desperation behind the tone itself.

Barry?

Realizing he could be in serious danger, considering her recent experience with a crimson zombie variant, she rushed out to his aid as fast as possible.

November 9th, 1967

I got home from work, exhausted. Another 14-hour day at the promenade hall. Although I could barely keep my eyes open, something posted on the bolt caught my attention.

It was a letter from Lord Spencer, inviting me over to his private manor!

It's been nearly six months. My other projects have diverted my attention from the Arklay mansion. What a sight it must be. The magnificent grandeur of my most ambitious work to date!

The deadline for the hall of New York City is three days from now so I'll have to stay until it's finished. In the meantime, I'll have Jessica and Lisa head over to the mansion. If only I could join them…

November 13th, 1967

It was around six o'clock in the evening when I arrived at the mansion.

My… the sumptuous main foyer, casted on the serene glow of a glimmering chandelier, polished marble floors reflected the upper arcades, supported by finely crafted columns, and standing at the drop of the second-floor landing was Lord Spencer himself, carrying himself with such a stature that exudes its self-confidence.

He turned to greet me, walking down the crimson carpeted staircase with an expression of deep gratitude. A rush of energy filled my exhausted body, and for the first time in months, I felt alive!

However, my elation subsided when I heard the news.

Lord Spencer told me about my aunt Emma falling ill and that both Lisa and Jessica had gone off to visit her in the hospital for a few days.

I won't let this put a damper on this most joyous occasion; the completion of my greatest work yet! Spencer humbly raised his glass of champagne for a toast, and I graciously returned it.

November 14th, 1967

Lord Spencer gave me a VIP tour of the mansion today. I was taken aback by the sheer wealth of this man! Authentic Carvajal paintings from the high renaissance, richly carved Raphael statues, and ironclad suits of armor from the medieval period.

My goodness… a fine grand piano was on display in the art room with music sheets resting upon the rim! It read, "Sonata #14", by Beethoven. I recognized it as one of Lisa's favorite melodies…

While showing me around, Spencer confided to me his intentions of starting a pharmaceutical corporation with a few of his associates. If I remember correctly, his associates were Dr. James Marcus and Dr. Edward Ashford. I don't exactly know who they really are, but apparently, they are some of the finest scientists of the 20th century.

Not to mention he also had plans on using this manor as a place of residence for his employees and guests. I thought this house was supposed to be his private getaway.

Good on him I suppose.

November 18th, 1967

It's been nearly a week since I arrived and still no sign of my family. Starting to grow a little lonely and homesick. Surely Aunt Emma has gotten better by now, but why haven't I heard from them yet? I took a walk on the veranda next to the dining room to clear my mind, but I quickly realized I was not alone.

The blood-chilling croak of a crow made me jump. It been watching me, stalking me with its glowing yellow eyes as though I were its prey. Only then did I realize how isolated I was from everyone else. I truly was deep in the enveloping forest… dark intuition crept into my body, freezing my blood cold.

I couldn't help but think that something horrible happened to my family. Quickly, I shook the thought off of my mind and retreated back inside, but the crow refused to take its eyes off me.

November 20th, 1967

Damn it! I can't find my special lighter that Jessica gave me on her wedding day. It was custom designed with my initials engraved on the top flip cover. After breakfast, Spencer disappeared into a study and I haven't seen him since. So I decided to look for my lighter. No luck. But I did uncover something else.

The Winchester rifle that hung on the rack in the first-floor parlor was inconspicuously replaced by a replica. It was a gift given to Spencer by Jessica. Why would he want a cheap knock-off on display? And where was the real one?

November 21st, 1967

I can't sleep…

Heavy drops of rain crashed onto the roof with such ferocity. I'm in a small bedroom nested between the staircase to the second floor in a winding corridor. Outside, the rain poured down the window, obscuring my view. But I could make out what seemed to be…

No!

Staring back at me is a strange man in a white pathogen suit. Am I being watched? What the hell is going on here?!

November 22nd, 1967

Something seemed odd about Spencer today. I expressed concern over my family and he simply laughed. He stated, "Life is short. However, they…"

And then he stopped himself before quickly apologizing for his behavior as he had trouble sleeping due to the rain as well. I don't think I can take much more of this.

Soon, I will inform my decision to depart from this mansion.

November 24th, 1967

I packed my bags this morning and called for a taxi. Spencer requested to meet me at the gallery room, but he had yet to arrive by the time I got there.

A series of artwork was on display across the walls. Glass frames were filled with artwork in it themselves, representing three different persons; valiant, sage, and saint. At the end of the hall on the other side was some sort of artwork that represented someone so familiar to me.

Lisa!

Why would Spencer have my own daughter's image etched upon a glass frame inside? The thought of it was quite eerie in itself, but by the time I flipped the switch underneath the frame, the entire wall in front of me had begun to slide open, revealing what seemed to be a quick shortcut to the backyard of the mansion.

This wasn't part of the mansion's original blueprints from what I've remembered, but before I could even investigate any further, the door in the back swung open.

My heart stopped when I saw the man in a white coat, ominously similar to the one I saw a few nights earlier. He lauded a low chuckle and apologized for startling me. He informed me that a letter arrived from my family and he handed me a cream-colored envelope. As I looked down at the folded sheet of paper, I immediately blacked out after a sudden hit right behind my neck. The only thing I could remember was someone saying, "Most likely your family is already…".

I could only pray for their safety.

November 26th, 1967

How did I end up like this? A guy in a lab coat came with a plate of skimpy meal and said to me, "Sorry to put you through this, but it's for security reasons." That's when it hit me. It all makes sense now.

There are only two people that know the secret of this mansion, Spencer and myself. If they kill me, Spencer will be the only person that knows the secret.

But for what purpose? It doesn't matter now. It's too dangerous here. My family… I hope they are alright.

I've decided to escape… Jessica, Lisa, I pray to God you are both safe.

November 27th, 1967

Somehow I managed to get out of that room. But getting out of this mansion won't be as easy. I have to get past all the booby-traps. Tiger Eyes, Gold Emblem, Gas Chamber… I have to try and remember for my own sake.

November 29th, 1967

I can't get out. I have tried every possible way to escape but only to be faced with the reality that I'm trapped.

I've been everywhere. The laboratory with the large glass tubes filled with formaldehyde and those dark, wet and eerie caves... What can I do?

At first, I didn't want to believe my eyes. But that familiar high-heeled shoe in the corridor... It was like a reflex. One name came to my mind, Jessica!

I don't want to believe they share the same fate as me.

No! I can't give up hope. I have to hope they're alive.

November 30th, 1967

Hallway after hallway. Dead end after dead end. It's all the same! Overhead lights flicker in and out of existence, briefly illuminating a network of caverns with no exit.

I haven't had anything to eat or drink for the past few days. I feel like I'm going crazy.

Why is this happening to me? Why do I have to die like this?

I was too obsessed with designing this ghastly mansion. I should have known better.

November 31st, 1967

It was a dark and damp underground tunnel. And another dead end. But even in the darkness, something caught my eye.

Carefully, I lit the last match, I had to see what it was.

A grave! But deeply engraved into the stone was my name!

"George Trevor"

At that instant, it all became clear to me. Those bastards knew from the beginning that I'd die here and I fell right into their trap.

He tested my old creation against me, and won…

That man is true evil.

How ironic… My own obsession of architecture was my undoing and worst of all, because of my ego, I dragged my family into the viper's nest with me. It's too late now. Everything is becoming so far away.

My sweet Jessica… My dear Lisa…

If only I had one more moment to hold you both in my arms and we could forget all this pain and anguish.

May God justify my death in exchange for your safety.

Please, forgive me…

George Trevor

Author's Note: The entries in the latter half of the chapter are mostly comprised of both the game's "Trevor's Diary" files and dialogue from Salastar Production's YouTube video, "The Trevor Files (Resident Evil)". I merely combined them to make a good cohesive story about George Trevor's demise. I highly recommend checking out their video as it sends dark chills down your spine just by listening to the dialogue and narration itself. The voice-over for the summarized fan-made story did a great job at evoking the exact emotions being described in the actual entries from the game itself.