A Star's Descent: Book Two: Star Fall
By evolution-500
Disclaimer: House of the Dead and Resident Evil are properties belonging to SEGA and Capcom respectively. I do not own any of these characters.
WARNING: This story contains violence, coarse language, mature and disturbing themes and imagery. Reader discretion is advised.
Chapter Three: Reassembly
Chris stared at the teenagers, his mind reeling from the albino's admission.
"You're...Wesker's...son?!" he said, unsure if he heard correctly. Even saying it felt...wrong! Could anything sound more....bizarre?! The idea of Wesker having a kid...it was so foreign to the Alpha Point Man.
"Yes," the youth replied, "I am."
"Wesker's...son?" he repeated.
"You already heard me, Officer."
"But...you don't look at all like the Captain!" Barry said.
"It's possible certain traits have been inherited from my biological mother," the albino rationalized, turning to look at them all. "Have any of you seen his eyes?"
Chris opened his mouth to respond, trying to say something to counter such an impossible idea...only he couldn't. It was a known fact that Wesker wore sunglasses day and night, never once taking them off. Joseph had once joked that the Captain probably wore them when he was in the shower. Noone in the Department knew why that was. Nobody had ever seen his eyes; in fact, it was a stuff of rumors. Redfield heard all sorts of crazy stuff, from facial scars and burns to cybernetic implants and tentacles. One guy had half jokingly suggested that the Captain was like Cyclops from the X-Men, that his eyes secretly fired laser beams. It never occurred to him, to anyone for that matter, that Wesker had an eye deformity.
Barry shook his head in reply.
"No," Jill said, shaking hers, although Chris wasn't sure if it was in answering the question or if it was denial.
Joseph didn't even answer; he was staring fixedly at the figure in red, his visage ashen, haunted and withdrawn.
"Tell me that this is a joke," Chris said. "Tell me that you're not-"
"He's Wesker's kid, Redfield!" Joseph interrupted. "Think about it - we were chased by winged dogs! If that's not an omen, then I don't know what is!"
Redfield winced. "Oh my God," he said in realization.
"I assure you that that was pure coincidence," the albino replied.
The Alpha Point Man reached up to hold his forehead. Ohhhh boy oh boy oh boy, he was getting a very strong migraine.
"I need to sit down," he said dazedly.
"Chris?" Jill said worriedly as she went to his side.
"Oh God the room is spinning."
"Just sit down next to the column, Chris," she said as she guided him gently down. "Massage your forehead, deep slow breaths."
Chris followed her instructions, breathing slowly.
"The Captain is gonna kill me, Jill!" he said nervously. "I punched his kid in the face!"
"You and me both!" Joseph lamented. "We're so screwed!"
"You can worry about that later," Rebecca spoke up. "Right now our first concern is-"
She paused. "Wait..." she said slowly, "...where's Richard?"
Richard looked around. "Hello?" he called. "Rebecca? Wolf?"
Nothing.
Aiken frowned.
Where the hell did they disappear to?
Picking up the radio, he pressed the transmit button.
"Rebecca, are you there? Over."
Rebecca raised her radio. "Rebecca here, over," she spoke into the receiver.
"Where are you?"
"Star and I are at the front hall entrance with Alpha Team," she replied.
"Alpha Team is here? Thank God!" he said with relief. "Now we can-"
He was cut off by a maniacal laugh, the sound causing goosebumps to form on Rebecca's skin.
"Oh shit," he whispered.
The moment he heard the laugh, the hair on Aiken's arms stood up on end.
"I need to go on radio silence," he said quietly. "I have company."
'How the hell did he find me?!' the communications specialist thought worriedly.
He had been positive that he had lost him! Of all the things to go wrong-
'This is bullshit!'
He listened to the footsteps as they clunked around upstairs, slowly and deliberately. Ejecting the ammo clip in his pistol, Aiken checked to see how much he had.
Empty. Looking around the room, Aiken scrambled desperately for something! A box of ammunition, a weapon of some kind, anything! The footsteps were drawing nearer, edging toward the stairs. Grabbing Rebecca's bag, he emptied it onto the bed, sifting through its contents. Finding nothing that looked useful, he then opened Wolf's suitcases, pulling out clothes and books.
'Come on, give me something!' he thought desperately. 'Let there be a weapon of some kind!'
Nothing! Just an assortment of crap!
Repressing the urge to shout at the top of his lungs, Aiken turned his head to the door, listening. His pursuer was now on the same level as him. Looking to the bed, the communications specialist ducked down and crawled below, hiding underneath, his eyes focused on the door.
Floorboards creaked as they drew closer. Aiken wanted desperately to throw up, his whole body trembling and on edge. There came a low grating chuckle, like a pair of ice cubes being grinded together, and as it drew nearer, the more it built up, rising and falling in hideous hysterical cycles, sometimes ending in demented sobs.
'God, that laugh!' Aiken thought as he cringed and tried to cover his ears. He would rather be on the train again with that psychotic bitch with the chainsaws or the giant scorpion than deal with this thing!
The door handle turned.
As it opened, the figure emerged into the light, the awful smell of its body filling the room, stinging Aiken's eyes. Dressed in a filthy purple and grey flannel shirt with blue jeans, the zombie had long dirty blonde hair and blue skin, his forehead and parts of his withdrawn face stained with blood, making it look as if it was torn. Pale sunken white eyes devoid of sclera or pupils sat lifelessly in his ugly head, its mouth and lips stretched into an awful-looking sneer as it continued to laugh, its fingers fastened around an axe.
'Jesus Christ, that smell!' Aiken winced.
Nothing could even come close to describing the awful pungent odor of the damn thing! Guys back at the Station used to tell him about some of the smelliest foods and fruits they had, the worst being Durian fruit and surstromming, and he had the displeasure of smelling both. Smelling this guy actually made those two disgusting foods seem like roses in comparison! He'd rather put his face up to a freshly-made dog turd than smell this fucking guy!
'I am not going to throw up,' he willed himself, closing his eyes. 'I am not going to throw up.'
The zombie looked around the room, carefully. Aiken waited as it scanned its surroundings, the veins in his head pounding. Gripping the axe, the creature slowly moved toward the bed, causing Aiken's heart to rise.
'It doesn't know I'm here,' he thought to himself. 'It doesn't-'
It stopped just in front of the bed.
Aiken didn't move, let alone breathe. He could see its filthy shoes and pants up close now. There were...things...crawling along its legs and feet. Even worse, there was unmistakably what looked and smelled like human shit, layers upon layers upon layers, a mixture of old and fresh, as if the disgusting fucker had been shitting himself for years.
'Don't think about it,' he told himself. 'Don't think about it. If you do, you'll blow your cov-'
Aiken jerked his head to the side as the axe came down onto the mattress, narrowly missing him as it maniacally laughed.
It knew! It knew he was hiding down there, it was just fucking with him!
The creature struggled to pull its axe out from the mattress. Taking that as his cue, Aiken propelled himself out from beneath the bed, sliding along the floor toward the door. Scrambling to his feet, he ran as fast as he could up the stairs, his pursuer following behind.
"HELP! HELP!" Aiken's voice yelled, his words mixing with the maniacal laugh.
"Richard needs help!" Rebecca said worriedly. "This way!"
Following her up the stairs, the survivors readied their weapons as they turned left. As they entered the dining room, Richard emerged from a door at the end, chased by a zombie with an axe close behind.
"SHOOT IT!" He yelled. "Shoot it!"
Jill, Barry and Chris fired, their shots hitting its arms, legs, torso and head, but no matter how many shots were fired, the crazed bastard wouldn't fall. Rebecca watched as the axe swung, nearly scraping Aiken's orange vest as it struck into a section of railing.
Barry fired his Colt Anaconda, the round striking it dead in the eye, knocking the creature back into the wall. Pushing itself back up, the zombie looked in their direction. Rebecca gasped.
"Wha?" Star said uncomprehendingly.
Half of its head was already missing. Rebecca could see the gaping hole in its head along with the exposed bone and brain matter oozing out...and yet...the creature kept moving, reaching for its axe.
"Richard move out of the way!" Joseph yelled as he raised his Mossberg.
Once Aiken cleared away, he fired. One round tore off the creature's arm. Cocking the weapon again, he fired a second time. Another arm came off, leaving the creature armless. Letting out angered roar, the zombie charged forward after Aiken. Aiming down the barrel, Joseph smirked.
"Good night, sweet prince," he said before pulling the trigger.
The creature's head exploded, knocking it off balance.
Aiken sighed in relief. "Thanks guys!" He waved.
Joseph saluted him.
"Ah! It's not dead!" Star exclaimed as he pointed.
"What?!" Aiken yelled.
Rebecca stared in horror as the headless torso rose back up from the floor.
"Are you kidding me?!" Joseph said in disbelief.
"It must be reflex actions," Rebecca tried to assure, but she herself was having trouble believing that. "It will fall eventually."
The torso walked forward, navigating its way around the railing.
"Reflex action my ass!" Barry swore as he raised his weapon and fired. Round after round penetrated the creature's strange flesh. Chris fired, then Jill, then Joseph. The Alphas kept firing until the thing had been reduced to pulped bloody meat. What was left staggered one more step, shivered, then collapsed onto a railing, falling down to the floor with a disgusting splat. After a few seconds of sporadic twitching, the mess at the bottom lay still, causing everyone in the room to breathe again.
"Stay fucking dead this time!" Joseph called over the railing.
As he turned away, Rebecca exchanged nervous glances with her coworkers and Star, then looked around at the mansion itself, wondering what else was in store for them.
Chris' mind reeled as he sat on the floor in the main hall, trying to process everything.
Two dead guys were walking around. One of them had barely anything left, and yet...it still kept on going!
'What the hell is happening?!' he thought, overwhelmed by it all.
Once he and the others regrouped back into the main hall and recovered from that...experience, Rebecca filled them in on what was going on. The albino stood by uncuffed, his hood drawn up to conceal his silver hair.
Chris sighed, massaging his temples.
"I know, it's a lot to take in," Rebecca said.
"No kidding," Jill replied.
"So, let me get this straight," Joseph spoke up. "Umbrella has been conducting secret experiments on convicts and God knows who else for the purposes of creating a weapon. They killed their lead researcher and dumped his body in a sewer along with his experimental leeches. Years pass, and then, through exposure to industrial waste, the leeches and T-Virus reawakens, and then poof, dead people come back to life?"
"That's the basic gist of it," she nodded.
"And on top of that," he continued, "they somehow use a...pink lightning...to...summon up other creatures, all of them named after Tarot cards."
"Correct."
Joseph looked to the albino. "And you wanted to join S.T.A.R.S. because, not only do you that believe you're Wesker's kid, but also because you believe you're possibly connected with the cultists behind the Michelle Stevenson case...somehow, and that these same cultists are stalking and threatening you and your mother."
The youth nodded. "Yes."
"What makes you so sure it's them?"
He hesitated. "Well...to be honest," he said uncertainly, "...I'm not. I think I was born here, in this city. All I remember at the age of eight was that my name was Star and the name Raccoon City."
"Nothing else?" Jill asked.
He shook his head. "Nothing else. I don't even know how I got these facial scars," he pointed, "...let alone all the...others."
Chris frowned. The Stevenson case. On August 27th, 1996, a cult of devil worshipers slaughtered 15-year-old Michelle Stevenson at the Raccoon City Park at quarter-to-midnight. The case that created a media uproar in Raccoon City and what had led to S.T.A.R.S.' creation in the first place. And this guy believes himself to be part of that?
The Alpha Point Man shook his head regretfully. "I'm sorry to disappoint you, Mr. Wolf, but...I'm afraid that's unlikely."
"How come?" Rebecca asked.
He looked to Jill. She nodded, giving him the go ahead. Redfield exhaled.
"The Stevenson case was a massive clusterfuck from the get-go," he said truthfully. "A lot of the details were embellished, plus evidence had been heavily contaminated and mishandled. The RPD had fumbled the ball in other words. S.T.A.R.S. is essentially a dog and pony show, a publicity stunt for the Mayor's office. What evidence there was suggested that it had been a date rape made to look like a cult killing."
The albino lowered his eyes.
"...Does this mean you can't help me?" he asked quietly.
"We can try," Chris said, "but there's not a lot to go on. For all we know, your parents were just passing tourists and you just happened to see a pamphlet for Raccoon City along the way." He shook his head, "I'm sorry there isn't more I can offer you."
The teenager sighed.
"Show them your back," Aiken said, causing the youth to wince.
Rebecca glared. "Richard!" she scowled.
"Alpha Team has the most experience in these types of matters, Rebecca," the communications specialist reasoned. "In all likelihood, they probably have seen the symbol before...along with the...other...things..." He looked back to the albino. "Show them."
The youth stiffened. "I will not," he said resolutely.
Aiken frowned. "Wolf-"
"You and Rebecca saw what was underneath," he interrupted. "One pair of eyes is one too many."
"Do you want Alpha Team to help you or not?" Aiken said pointedly.
The youth froze, then looked uncertainly to Rebecca. She sighed, then gave a slow nod. Exhaling, the boy looked back to Chris and the others.
"Very well," he said in resignation.
Lowering his hood, he took off his coat, neatly folding it onto the floor, then started to unbutton his shirt.
Drawing it open, the youth revealed a massive, horrific-looking scar on his chest, an angry set of laceration marks that ran from the right side of his neck and shoulder all the way right down to the abdomen.
"Oh my God," Jill gasped.
Chris eyed the ugly wound with an open mouth.
As the boy pulled the rest of the shirt off, the Alpha Point Man watched with disturbed eyes as more was revealed. Around both shoulders, completely encircling the arms, were a set of stitch marks with black threads sticking out from the skin, making him look as if he had been sown back together. One shoulder and upper arm was bandaged, while his forearms were completely concealed within a pair of gauntlets.
"Jesus," Joseph breathed.
The boy stood there with an unreadable expression.
Turning around slowly, he showed his back to the Alphas, his face staring ahead, his eyes lowered to the floor.
"Oh God!" Jill raised a hand to her mouth.
Joseph turned around and vomited while Barry and Chris stared gobsmacked in horror. Branded angrily into the albino's back were dozens upon dozens of scars along with a symbol - six isosceles triangles surrounding a circle, forming what looked to be a stylized representation of the sun.
The youth stood there for several minutes, not moving a muscle.
"Well?" Aiken said expectantly.
Once Chris recovered from the shock, he shook his head. "I've-I've never seen anything like it before," he answered.
"Me neither," Jill replied, overwhelmed.
"That counts for me as well," Barry added.
"And me," Joseph said as he wiped his mouth. "Fuck, I would have remembered something like that!"
The boy said nothing.
"How many scars do you have?" Jill asked.
"...Thirty-four," he said in a low voice. "I only know the causes of five of them. Four rattlesnakes bit my ankle when I was twelve."
"And the fifth one?" Rebecca asked.
He pointed to a small mark on the back of his right shoulder, not even bothering to look. "There. A boy named Ryan Engelhorn thought it was an appropriate place to stub his cigarette out when I was ten. The other marks...I don't know."
Jill turned her attention to the gauntlets that he wore. "Those gauntlets of yours...are your arms also-"
Rebecca and Aiken nodded, answering her question.
"I see..." she trailed off.
Chris eyed the carnage wrought on the boy's flesh. With the stitching around his arms and the marks on his back, the albino looked like a ruined sculpture. He had a nicely toned and lithe torso, to be sure, with some good musculature, but with his pale white skin, gigantic height and scars, he looked downright hideous.
"I see some fresh bruising on your back and chest," he noted.
"...Officer Sullivan's handiwork," the youth answered simply. "Some of it, anyway."
The S.T.A.R.S. members stared at the pale boy's body in silence.
Jill leaned toward Chris.
"Poor kid," she murmured quietly.
"I know," he nodded sympathetically.
"Christ, he looks like he had been put into a meat grinder," Joseph said a little too loudly.
"Joseph," the Alpha Point Man warningly hissed.
"What?" he said, then froze. "Oh."
The albino was still for several minutes.
"...Can I get my shirt back on now please?" the albino said, his voice and tone hushed and restrained.
Redfield nodded. "Go ahead," he waved.
He watched as the youth hurriedly picked up his shirt and coat from the floor, moving toward the dining room.
"Star!" Rebecca called.
He disappeared into the other room without responding.
Rebecca followed after him, leaving the others in the hallway. Chris sighed.
"Nice one, dickhead," he scolded Joseph.
Rebecca watched as Star stared to the floor despondently.
"Star, are you okay?" she asked concernedly.
"...No," he answered simply, refusing to look at her.
The Bravo medic approached him slowly. "It's okay, Star," she said in a quiet and gentle voice.
The boy wiped his eyes without making a sound.
"I feel so humiliated," Star said quietly. "I didn't want to meet any of you like this. I didn't want any of you to see the hideous monster that I am."
"Don't say that!" Rebecca said.
"Well it's true," he said, anger and bitterness creeping into his voice. "I bet they're all back there right now there having a good laugh."
"No one is laughing at you!" Rebecca insisted.
Star stared ahead, unconvinced.
"No one is laughing at you," she assured. "They're just...shocked. I know it must have been hard for you, but you can trust them. They don't see you as a monster."
The medic put a comforting hand on his arm. "I don't see you as one."
The albino remained still, not saying a word. Taking in a deep breath, he lowered his eyes.
"...What if I am one of Umbrella's beasts?"
Rebecca shook her head. "Don't be ridiculous."
"I am serious," Star said. "Could it be possible that I am one of Umbrella's creations and the company has come to...collect?"
The medic shook her head again.
"No," she said, "it just means that the people responsible for doing this to you aren't connected with the Stevenson case. At least, as far as we know. Like I said back at the church, we can get you checked at the hospital and see if they find anything...but I am willing to bet everything I have you aren't one of their specimens."
The albino continued staring to the floor.
"Rebecca," he said hesitantly. "...If it turns out that I am...if I pose a threat to either you or your team...you have my permission to destroy me. I would rather die than let them use me against you."
Rebecca frowned. "Look at me," she ordered.
Star turned around. Raising a hand up, she flicked him between the eyes.
"Don't be a dumbass," the medic chastised, then softened her features. "But in all seriousness, though...even if you're an alien from the planet Swalooo...we'll still try to help you."
She touched his arm. "You don't have to worry, Star. Everything will be okay."
Star regarded her for a moment, then gave a small nod and a tiny smile. "Thank you."
Rebecca smiled back.
The two teenagers remained there for a moment, then the albino awkwardly looked around and cleared his throat.
"...Could you leave me alone here for a moment, Rebecca?" he said quietly. "...Just so that I can..."
She nodded, giving his upper arm a squeeze.
"Okay," Rebecca said. "If you need help or find yourself in trouble, don't hesitate to let me know. You can count on me, Star."
He stood quietly, then nodded. Turning around, Rebecca headed back to the main hall.
"Join us back in the main hall when you feel like you're ready, okay?"
"I will," he promised.
As the albino got dressed, Rebecca gave him one last concerned look, her eyes trailing along the scars on his back, then at the symbol as it seemingly shimmered in the light.
Curien stood in the dark amphitheater, looking up at the monitors all around him, fidgeting with an old silver pocket watch that had belonged to his father.
"How the hell are these goddamn things getting through?!" he said in frustration.
His subordinate, a tall figure in a hood that stood in the shadows, merely shook his head.
"We're still uncertain how, sir," he answered.
Adjusting his black sunglasses, the man in white stroked his chin thoughtfully.
"Are there any more in the Infection Zone that we have to worry about?"
"Not that we can detect, sir," the subordinate replied.
Curien's lips tightened into a grim line.
"I want the perimeter around here checked and secured," he ordered. "We cannot let any more bloody strays get through, otherwise the scenario and operation will be compromised. Whatever made their way to the other side must be found and exterminated."
Rebecca watched as the dining room door opened. Star returned back into the main hall, tying on the buckle of his coat.
"You okay, big guy?" Jill asked.
The albino nodded. "My apologies for that," he said.
Chris waved it off. "Don't be."
Joseph cleared his throat. "Listen, about what I said," he began, causing Star to watch him warily, "...I'm...sorry about that. I was just...caught off-guard. I didn't mean any offense."
Star regarded him for moment, then relaxed.
"Apology accepted," he nodded.
Barry clapped his hands together. "So...what do we do now?"
Chris considered the question.
"Find the rest of Bravo Team and the Captain," he said, "then get the hell out of here."
"Before we do that, though," Aiken spoke up, "we should get to the helicopter and load up on supplies."
Chris frowned. "I'm afraid we can't," he said. "Our pilot bugged out. We're stranded here."
Aiken looked around worriedly. "So...what do we do?" he asked.
Jill thought for a moment.
"Do either of you know if there's a phone or a radio around here?" she asked the teenagers.
The albino shrugged. "According to a man named Gilman, the...one that you found in the dining room, there aren't any," he replied, "but given the fact that he lied about his being the owner of this place, it's possible there might be one around here...somewhere."
"Unless the people living here spent their time screaming out to each other from across the mansion, chances are good that there's an operating phone or radio around here," Joseph said.
Chris sighed. "Okay," he started, "this is what we're going to do. We're going to search around, see if we can find phones or radios."
"Before we do that, though," Jill spoke up, "we should take stock of our inventory. What's our ammunition like?"
The Alpha Point Man checked his clip. "I'm empty."
Barry checked his Colt Anaconda. "Five rounds, plus two clips for the pistol," he noted.
"Mind if I bum one off you, Barry?" Chris asked.
Barry nodded, tossing him a clip. Catching it with one hand, Chris looked to Jill.
"How about you, Jill?"
She checked hers. "Four rounds."
Chris divided up the rounds, giving her eight rounds.
"Thanks," Jill nodded as they both reloaded.
"Any others?" Chris asked.
"I know that Officer Sullivan had loaded a fresh clip back into Rebecca's weapon," Star replied.
Joseph counted up the shells in his pocket. "Four rounds for the shotgun, plus one clip for the pistol."
Aiken shook his head. "I don't have anything." He looked over at Star. "Still have your swords with you?"
Rebecca watched as the Alphas looked questioningly at the albino.
"...Swords?" Jill repeated with a raised brow.
"Butterfly swords. I am a practitioner of Hung Gar and Wing Chun." He looked back to Aiken. "To answer your question, no, I don't have them with me anymore."
"Lost them, huh?" Aiken said.
The albino shifted uncomfortably.
Chris frowned. "I'm not liking our odds," he said. "We had to unleash a shitload of ammo on just one of these damn things. I hate to imagine how a whole horde would compare."
Rebecca shivered. "So...what do you suggest we should do?"
The Alpha Point Man considered the question. "We need to know more about what we're dealing with," he said. "Is there anything you can tell us about this...'T-Virus'?"
The small girl shifted nervously as attention was directed to her.
She began, "Well, from what we know and have seen so far, the disease seems to transmit itself through blood like rabies. Bites, scratches, or having an open wound left unattended could facilitate infection. As long as you haven't gotten anything into your eyes or mouth, you should be fine. If any of you have open injuries, be sure to let me see and treat them as soon as possible."
Rebecca looked to each person carefully.
"Now, with that said," she continued, "there's still a lot we don't know about the T-Virus. We don't know what symptoms to look out for. Also, we don't know if these Arcana creatures are 'T-Virus'-enhanced or not. For now, though, we should assume that any and all creatures encountered from here on are."
"How do we deal with them?" Jill asked.
"In the event that we encounter more, I recommend keeping them at a distance. The less chance of physical contact, the better our chances of getting out alive. Most zombies could be killed with a single shot to the brain."
Joseph frowned, turning his attention to the fallen zombie on the floor.
"If that's so," he said slowly, "then why was this guy such a pain in the ass to put down? Why did that other one keep moving?"
"What I want to know is why it was laughing," Richard spoke up. "All the others were your typical zombies, staggering and moaning, but him..."
He shuddered.
Rebecca shook her head. "...I don't know," she said truthfully. "Best case scenario, maybe one or two of these zombies had a steel plate inserted into their head when they had been alive."
"Worst case scenario?" Chris asked.
Rebecca turned her attention to the fallen zombie on the floor.
"Possible mutation?" she suggested. "Perhaps prolonged exposure to the T-Virus results in thicker muscle and bone density? I don't know. I'd study them myself to see why, but...given the risk of contracting an infection..."
She trailed off.
Aiken tapped his chin thoughtfully. "You know, we don't have to necessarily kill every zombie that we encounter."
Rebecca looked at him curiously. "What do you mean?" she asked.
"Well," he began, "we could always disable them. You know, cut or shoot off their limbs or knees, thereby slowing them down."
Star stared, appalled. "That's disgusting!" he exclaimed. "You are suggesting that we leave them writhing around in a heap on the floor?!"
"Uh, yeah!" Aiken replied.
"It's inhumane! It's degrading!"
"Well what do you suggest then, Wolf?" he retorted. "We can't put every one of these things out of their misery now, can we?"
"We could always try distracting them."
"Uh, sorry to be the bearer of bad news, kid, but not all of us can do ventriloquism."
Chris and Jill looked at each other.
"Did you say...ventriloquism?" the latter asked.
Rebecca nodded. "Yeah. Star can toss his voice around." She looked to the albino. "Show them."
Star sighed. "Very well," he responded.
"Can anyone hear me?" A voice called from the top of the stairs close to Jill and Chris. The Alphas looked up, startled.
"Wha-"
"I'm over here."
"AHHHH! AH!" Joseph leapt into the air with a yell, turning around. "WHAT THE FUCK?!"
"Actually I'm here."
Chris froze stiff, his hair standing on end. There came a low grumbling from Barry's stomach, causing the heavy-set man to glance down.
"No, I'm kidding," the voice echoed. "I'm in here."
Rebecca laughed as Barry raised a brow and playfully slapped his belly.
"Oof!" The voice cried out. "How rude!"
There came a low trumpet sound causing Rebecca to frown.
"Really, Star?" she said disapprovingly. "More fart jokes?"
Star looked at her. "That wasn't me," he said earnestly.
Before she could respond, the smell came.
"Aw, wha- AW!" The medic cringed.
Barry laughed as everyone collectively groaned.
"Oh my God!" Chris coughed, covering his nose.
"EW!" Rebecca exclaimed as she pulled the collar of her shirt up.
"Barry that's disgusting!" Jill said, wincing.
"That smells worse than death!" Aiken said as he plugged his nose, waving his hand around in the air.
Joseph coughed. "Jesus!"
Barry laughed harder, relishing their reactions.
Aiken groaned. "Jesus, Barry," he coughed, "you really should cut back on those damn sandwiches."
"Or maybe we should stuff him with more," Joseph said. "Phew! I'm sure we could kill a zombie or two with this smell."
After five minutes, the air cleared, allowing the survivors to free their noses.
"That was so gross!" Rebecca groaned.
Barry looked in the albino's direction. "Let that be a lesson, kid," he nodded. "Don't ever pull that ventriloquist shit on me."
Star frowned as he released his nose from his collar. "Duly noted."
"Even so, Barry," Chris spoke up, "it could come in handy."
"Perhaps when dealing with zombies further away or ones that are blocking our path," Jill said, "but what about the ones hidden around a nearby corner, or those that are behind a door?"
"Its applications are somewhat limited," Star agreed, "plus you have to account for the acoustics of a given room, the conditions of one's vocals, and so on. And that's not even taking into consideration some of the other creatures and determining whether or not they themselves would fall for it. Plus, there's always the possibility of my unintentionally drawing some unwanted attention of some creature or zombie hidden around somewhere."
"So where does that leave us?" Barry asked.
"Not a lot of options," Chris noted. "That said, however, at least we have some useful tools at our disposal. We just have to be careful."
Aiken shifted uncomfortably.
"So what do we do now?" he asked. "Where do we go?"
"I have to get my backpack," Rebecca said. "My medical supplies are in there along with some of the evidence against Umbrella."
"Same with my suitcases," Star added.
Chris nodded. "Alright," he said, "here's what we're going to do. We'll all go together and help you retrieve your things, then, we'll sweep the other rooms, starting with the lower levels. Once we find Captain Wesker, the rest of Bravo Team and a working radio or phone, we call for help. With any luck, this won't take too long and we can all get the hell out of here as quickly as possible. Sound like a plan?"
The survivors nodded. Star stepped forward.
"Before we go," he said hesitantly, "there's a request I would like to make."
Rebecca looked at him curiously.
"What is it, Star?" she asked.
He shifted uncomfortably. "...When we meet Captain Wesker," he began, "...would it be alright if...no one were to mention my...relation to him? I don't know if he knows, and I want to keep things private. I don't want to cause him any sort of embarrassment."
Rebecca smiled and nodded. "Sure," she said.
"Yeah," Chris waved.
"No problem," Jill winked.
Barry grunted.
"Fine with me," Aiken said.
"Whatever you say, Junior," Joseph replied.
The albino nodded graciously. "Thank you for your discretion."
"Is that it?" Chris asked.
"That's all."
The Alpha Point Man turned to face the dining room door. "Okay. Let's go."