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.
Songs used: Survivor - "Eye of the Tiger"
Boy Meets Girl - "Waiting for a Star to Fall"*
Author's Notes: Huge shoutout to Martin III for suggesting this song. Thank you very much for your help, dude! :)
Chapter Twelve: Trapped
Barry felt his own insides knot uncomfortably as he paced back and forth, waiting.
"Ah, Barry!" Came that deceptively velvety baritone voice behind him. "How nice to see you."
Barry repressed the urge to growl as he pivoted on his feet, turning around to face his Captain.
"...Wesker," he said lowly.
Wesker coolly approached, his face flat, his black sunglasses gleaming in the light.
"You seem nervous, Barry," he commented casually. "Really, you have no reason to be."
The Weapons Supplier clenched his fists, warily watching the man in the sunglasses. If there was one thing Barry knew about Wesker, it was to never let his guard down for even a moment, especially at his seemingly most affable. Oh, what he would give to beat the ever living daylights out of this fucking guy!
"What do you want?" Barry demanded.
Wesker stood there impassively regarding him, his black sunglasses reflecting Barry's nervous visage.
"Straight to the point, I see," the S.T.A.R.S. Captain said, giving an approving nod. "I like that." He pushed his sunglasses up the bridge of his nose. "How many rooms have you cleared?"
Barry shrugged. "About five or six, Captain."
"Which is it? I need you to be as precise as possible, Barry."
Burton sighed. "Six."
"Are you sure? There is no room for error."
Barry exhaled roughly. "It's six."
"Any complications?"
"No."
The blonde man stood there for several seconds, staring stoically at him as if trying to read him.
'People at the Station weren't kidding when they nicknamed him the Terminator,' Barry thought.
He was so stiff, so mechanical. Interacting with Wesker was like interacting with a computer, so cold, calculating and impartial. For a moment, Barry almost wondered if the man was a machine. If so, it would explain a lot of things.
After an indeterminate amount of time had passed, Wesker gave a single slow nod.
"Good," he replied. "Continue with what you're doing. Report anything unusual."
As the Alpha Captain turned around, Barry felt the urge to use his Colt Anaconda. The back of Wesker's head was begging to be blown off his shoulders.
For a moment, Barry imagined killing him. Bang! One shot and his arrogant smirking face would be gone. It was so tempting to finish Wesker here and now...but he couldn't. Too much noise would draw some unwanted attention, be it from his own colleagues or whatever the hell haunted this place. That, plus the fact that Barry still had his wife and kids to think about. Watching the man in black disappear into the shadows, Barry turned around, letting out a despondent sigh as he continued onto his next task.
Rebecca swung her feet lazily as she leaned back in her chair. Star looked up from the book in his gloved hands.
"Everything okay, Rebecca?" he asked.
She shrugged. "I'm alright, just...a little bored, I guess."
Pushing himself off the floor, Star stepped toward her, handing back her book.
She smiled. "Thanks."
The albino nodded, moving back to his seat.
"How is he?" he asked, gesturing to Richard as he settled back down.
"He's fine," Rebecca answered. "Just sleeping."
"Hm," Star grunted as he twiddled his thumbs nervously. "Tell me, Rebecca...what do you think of our chances?"
Rebecca thought it over.
"...Morale seems good, considering," she said honestly, "although it's not much of a substitute for ammunition."
Star nodded. "Touché."
Opening up the Garfield book, Rebecca thumbed through the pages, giggling at some of the strips inside as the albino sat quietly on the floor. A couple minutes later, he shifted around uncomfortably.
"Given all the screams and gunfire, I'd have expected someone to have heard something," he commented.
Rebecca looked up from her book. "Like who?"
He shrugged. "A hiker? Maybe a road man passing by? Hell, even emergency services, what with the blazing Umbrella facility outside."
She nodded. "I know what you mean. That said, though, given the lengths Umbrella is going to keep this all a secret..."
Star sighed. "True." He raised his head up from the wall, looking at her curiously. "...Now that you mention it, it seems odd this place isn't overrun with Umbrella soldiers. Why is that?"
Rebecca opened her mouth, then paused.
"...That actually is a good question," she said, putting her hand onto her chin, lowering her eyes in contemplation.
"Any thoughts or theories?"
Rebecca's brow furrowed. "...You said that Kenneth told you that Umbrella had plans for S.T.A.R.S., right?"
"Yes."
She put the book away. "Tell me exactly what Kenneth told you verbatim."
Star leaned his head back, speaking in Kenneth's voice. "'It's too bad that I have to kill the both of you, but what can I do? You know too much, and that jeopardizes my employers' plans for S.T.A.R.S. I can't have either of you warning them now, can I?'"
Rebecca stared, unnerved by both the message and by the albino's vocal rendition of her coworker.
"...Rebecca?"
"...Uh, sorry," the medic spoke, "it's just...that was...incredible! You sounded just like him!"
The albino youth stretched out his arms, letting out a tired yawn. "It was a trick I learned when I was at the circus."
Rebecca shook her head in astonishment.
"You're lucky," she said.
He shrugged.
"So...any thoughts on what Officer Sullivan said?" he asked.
Rebecca leaned back in her chair.
"You know too much, and that jeopardizes my employers' plans for S.T.A.R.S..." she murmured softly. If she was a multibillion dollar conglomerate and she just received news that T-Virus was loose, what would she do? How would she salvage the situation? How could she involve S.T.A.R.S.?
Rebecca frowned. Why would they involve S.T.A.R.S.? Doing so was surely against their best interests.
...Wasn't it?
Her frown deepened.
Star mentioned earlier about the possibility of Umbrella using them as part of their experiments, which was admittedly quite possible, but presumably that would have meant Umbrella soldiers entering the equation, and since nobody had encountered them - so far, anyway - there had to be something more, but what?
She sighed.
"I don't really know, Star," Rebecca replied, shaking her head tiredly.
He grunted. "Well, that makes two of us."
As the quiet settled, the medic shifted in her seat. After she checked on Richard, she settled back down, opening up her book.
"So..." she began, "...do you read comics?"
Star nodded. "I do."
"Any kind in particular?"
He shrugged nonchalantly. "X-Men, although I might read the occasional Spiderman or Superman comic."
She looked at him in surprise.
"What?" Star said.
"Nothing, just surprised that you'd like X-Men."
"You don't, I take it?"
"No I do, it's just...you seem so...old fashioned." Rebecca said honestly.
He gave a small snort. "While I prefer a lot of classic literature, I do indulge in the occasional comic or movie. Eleanor...that is, my mother...was more open-minded than others back in Arkham and wanted to expose me to things she felt that a boy should enjoy."
Rebecca nodded in understanding. "I see. Favorite X-man character?"
"Gambit."
"Really?" Rebecca said, surprised by the revelation.
"He has style and confidence, some things I don't really have...among others," Star admitted. "Very charming and witty, plus he has a long coat and makes cards explode. Also, he's from Louisiana. What's not to like about him?"
The medic smiled. "So that's the reason why you like that coat so much! You wanted to imagine yourself as Gambit, didn't you?" she teased.
Star laughed. "No, not at all! That had actually never really crossed my mind," he replied. "How about you?"
"Beast. He looks like a teddy bear. Him, along with Rogue. She's kick-ass."
The albino nodded. "Indeed."
"By the way," Rebecca spoke up, "that was a really cool trick. Changing your voice like that."
The albino shrugged. "Mother always hated when I did that."
"Why?" she asked, curious.
He grinned impishly. "...Weeeeell... I may have repeated a line or two when a show was on, when a character spoke during a movie or imitate the sound of something malfunctioning." Star began to chuckle. "Drove Mother crazy sometimes."
"You little shit!" Rebecca smiled, causing him to laugh heartily. "And here I thought you were a nice guy!"
"Hey, I am!" He pouted. "...It's just that when a really, really bad movie is on, I like to...well...entertain myself sometimes. You know how some movies are just so awful that you want to turn away? Sometimes I might add in an extra little dialogue here or there to make things interesting."
"...That...actually sounds kind of...fun!" She admitted.
He looked at her. "Perhaps-perhaps when we get out of here...we could...we could try it sometime?"
Rebecca's smile grew. "Sure! But you have to teach me how to do that thing with your voice."
Star smiled back. "Deal." He then pointed to her, saying in Humphrey Bogart's voice, "Here's to looking at you, kid."
The medic giggled, watching as the albino searched around his pockets, pulling out a deck of cards.
"Want to play some cards?" he asked.
She nodded. "Sure. How about a game of Go Fish?"
Star shrugged.
"As you wish," he replied
Stepping away from her chair, Rebecca sat down on the floor in front of Star as he dealt out the cards.
Jill glanced around nervously as she entered the exhibition room.
'Back here again,' she thought.
Navigating past the statue of the woman drawing water towards the rear door, the Alpha paused momentarily as she recalled that nightmarish experience in the mirror room, and as she did so, there came the urge to check back at the storage space behind the red curtain. Moving toward it, the B&E Specialist felt herself hesitate.
"You're not going to find anything back there," she told herself.
And yet...some part of her felt compelled to look, but she was afraid.
Yes, Jill Valentine, the fearless member of S.T.A.R.S., was actually afraid to find out what lay in wait. Part of her wanted to admonish herself for feeling this way, but ever since that event in the mirror room, Jill found herself more on edge than usual. As memories of that...thing flashed in her mind, she shuddered.
"It's just a dream, girl," she told herself nervously. "It's just a dream."
Moving to the door, Jill pulled it open, then paused, blinking at the sight that greeted. "Whoa."
Standing in the middle of the L-shaped corridor in a hunched position was a winged dog...but she had caught it at a very inconvenient moment.
From its curled back, the paws pressing together, the wings draping down to the floor, and its tail coiling up in the air, it had been in the middle of taking a shit just as she entered.
Seeing the animal awkwardly hunched over, Jill couldn't help but laugh - combined with the deeply concentrated and grumpy expression on its face, and the fact that it looked like it was going to fall over, the creature looked absolutely ridiculous, if not kind of adorable, in a dopey sort of way.
As it tried to do its business, the animal glared at her, letting out a soft growl.
Jill smiled sheepishly. "Sorry."
She cautiously crept past, the animal baring its fangs, its growls deepening.
"Easy, boy," she said gently, moving slow. "Don't mind me, just passing through."
The animal continued with what it was doing as she moved toward the end, the police officer keeping her eyes on it. Looking around the corner to make sure there wasn't another, Jill glanced back.
"Well, uh...gotta go!"
The Alpha bolted away to the door at the other end. Slamming the door behind her, Jill let out a sigh of relief.
"Fucking winged dogs," she muttered aloud.
Chris sighed as he glanced around the attic.
"See anything?" he called.
"Not yet," Joseph called back as he checked a corner.
Redfield checked the other corner, then paused. "I found something!"
Bending down to the floor, he picked up the item, brushing off spider webs and dust.
"What the hell?" Chris muttered.
The object appeared to be some sort of...grey...death mask. Made from plaster, the mash had a pair of red rubies embedded into the right side of its forehead and had a nose missing. Turning around, he waved Joseph over.
"Hey Joseph, get a load of this thing!" he called.
The Omni Man approached, looking at the mask. "That. Is. Creepy," Joseph muttered.
"No kidding," Chris replied.
Taking the mask from the Point Man, he held it up for inspection.
"Oh. Aren't you awful-looking," Joseph said. Raising up his other hand, he slipped his thumb between his index and middle finger. "Got your nose!"
Chris rolled his eyes as Frost looked back to him.
"We're not taking that fucking thing with us, right?"
"I'm afraid we have to," Chris answered.
"Why?"
Chris opened his mouth, then frowned. "...I don't know," he admitted. "Let's just take it with us in case we need it." He looked around for a moment. "Were you able to find anything else?"
"Well, I found a box of shotgun shells and a grenade," Joseph shrugged. "Don't ask. Plus I found this." Reaching into his pocket, the Omni Man pulled out an item, handing it to Chris. Lifting it up for study, Chris regarded the object curiously. A gold hexagonal piece that had a crescent moon with a face carved into its side.
"The hell is this thing?" he asked.
Joseph shrugged again. "You got me."
Looking to the sides, Chris gave one final quizzical glance around the attic, then pocketed the item.
"Well, if that's about it, then there's no reason to stick around here."
Star studied the cards in his hand.
"Do you have a king of hearts?" he asked.
Rebecca shook her head. "Go fish."
Taking another card, the teenagers paused in their game as music started to play. Lifting up his head, Star listened as he heard the lyrics.
"Risin' up, back on the street
Did my time, took my chances
Went the distance, now I'm back on my feet
Just a man and his will to survive.
So many times, it happens too fast
You trade your passion for glory.
Don't lose your grip on the dreams of the past
You must fight just to keep them alive.'
It's the eye of the tiger, it's the thrill of the fight
Risin' up to the challenge of our rival
And the last known survivor stalks his prey in the night
And he's watchin' us all with the eye of the tiger."
The albino looked back to Rebecca questioningly as she took out her radio.
"Chris, are you there? Over," she called.
"Chris here. Over. Everything okay, Rebecca?"
"Yeah, I was just calling to ask if you were at the bar. Star and I can hear music playing."
"Ah that's a negative. We're all at the east wing. Over."
"Oh. Sorry."
"No worries. Keep in touch, Rebecca. Over and out."
Once she tried the other channels, Rebecca looked back to Star, putting down her radio with a shrug.
"Maybe the juke box is broken," the medic suggested.
"Perhaps I should go check it out," Star said, "just in case."
"No, no," she waved. "I'm pretty sure it's just a glitch or something. Besides, we should stick together."
Star glanced at the door. "Shouldn't we turn it off, though? You know, just so that we don't draw the attention of whatever zombies or monsters are lurking around out there?"
Rebecca shook her head. "We can't. Richard is still asleep, plus...well...to be honest...I'm not keen on making horror clichés a reality."
The albino pondered her point, then shrugged. "Fair enough, I guess. I just hope none of the others are there."
As the teenagers tried resuming their game, Star uneasily listened to the lyrics.
"Face to face, out in the heat
Hangin' tough, stayin' hungry
They stack the odds 'till we take to the street
For the kill with the skill to survive
It's the eye of the tiger, it's the dream of the fight
Risin' up to the challenge of our rival
And the last known survivor stalks his prey in the night
And he's watchin' us all with the eye of the tiger."
"I kind of wish that a better song was used," he commented.
"Not crazy about this song, I take it?"
"Not particularly. You?"
Rebecca shrugged. "Don't really care about it, to be honest."
The duo turned away, anxiously resuming their game as the song echoed ethereally in the background.
Stepping out from the winding corridor, Jill winced at the pungent smell as she entered the dimly lit bathroom.
It must have been nice at some point, but in its current state, it was awful, a corpse of a bathroom. The once white tiled walls were now stained orange and filthy, encrusted with grime and what appeared to be mold, the floor and carpet brown. The sink beside the door was equally repulsive to look at, the mirror cracked while the fan overhead no longer moved. A small wall at the left-hand side of the sink hid a tiny toilet while facing the door and sink itself was a small claw foot bathtub, the shower curtains drawn.
Approaching it, Jill raised her weapon as she reached for the curtains. As she whisked them away, the Alpha aimed, checking for targets.
Nothing.
Looking down into the tub, she let out a disgusted groan. The tub had been filled with muddy-looking water, just as awful to look at just as it was to smell.
Reaching out tentatively, Jill was just about to drain the water when she caught herself.
'What am I doing?' she thought to herself. She wasn't the maid - there was no reason to stick her hand down there.
Staring down into the filthy water, Jill shook her head.
Fuck that!
Turning around, Jill stepped away from the tub and made her way toward the door when she heard water splashing behind her followed by loud moaning.
Whipping around with a start, she watched as a badly decomposed body rose up from the tub, turning in her direction.
Raising her pistol, Jill fired, the round catching it in the eye, causing it to slip backward and crack its head on the edge of the tub. As the body lay motionless in the tub, blood flowed from the back of its head down onto the white porcelain.
Shaking furiously, Jill stood still for a long time, then raised a hand to her mouth.
No no no no no!
Running to the toilet, Jill proceeded to spew her guts out, her eyes locked shut.
Aiken let out a groan as he opened his eyes.
"Richard?" he heard Rebecca call.
Sitting himself up, the communications expert rubbed his eyes.
"Where am I?" he asked.
"We're in the storage room," she answered.
"Again?!" Aiken exclaimed.
"We had to come back. When you pricked yourself-"
He waved. "I remember."
Pulling his hands away, he watched as Rebecca gave him a concerned look.
"How are you feeling?" she asked worriedly.
Aiken stretched out his limbs with a groan.
"A little groggy, but I think I'm okay," he yawned. "Thank you, Rebecca."
Rebecca smiled, giving a nod.
Shifting himself off the bed, Aiken straightened himself up, hearing his spine produce an audible crack.
"How long was I out for?" he queried.
"About half an hour," Rebecca answered.
"And the others?"
"They're checking the east wing."
Rolling his shoulders, he cracked his neck, producing a satisfying pop.
"AHH, much better!" Looking back to the teenagers, Aiken nodded to them. "Well, we should get going. The faster we find the others, the sooner we can get the hell out of here."
Star nodded. "Amen to that."
Once they gathered up their stuff, the survivors headed outside.
Stepping back into the hall, Star watched as Rebecca lifted her head.
"You guys hear that?" she asked.
Star tilted his head to the side, listening intently.
"I hear your name whispered on the wind
It's a sound that makes me cry
I hear a song blow again and again
Through my mind and I don't know why
I wish I didn't feel so strong about you
Like happiness and love revolve around you."
"What song is that?" Star wondered.
"'Boy Meets Girl, Waiting for a Star to Fall,'" Aiken answered. "My girlfriend Bridgette loves this song."
"Trying to catch your heart
Is like trying to catch a star
So many people love you baby
That must be what you are.
Waiting for a star to fall
And carry your heart into my arms
That's where you belong
In my arms baby, yeah."
The albino looked over to Rebecca, watching the girl as she bounced her head to the melody.
"I've learned to feel what I cannot see
But with you I lose that vision
I don't know how to dream your dream
So I'm all caught up in superstition
I want to reach out and pull you to me
Who says I should let a wild one go free
Trying to catch your heart
Is like trying to catch a star
But I can't love you this much baby
And love you from this far
Waiting for a star to fall
And carry your heart into my arms
That's where you belong
In my arms baby, yeah."
'If only she knew how I felt...' Star thought longingly. If only he could muster up the courage to tell her.
Sensing that she was being stared at, the Bravo medic glanced over to him.
"What?" she said.
He raised his hands. "Ah, my apologies. I was just surprised that you liked it."
She shrugged. "If it has a good rhythm and melody, I'm all for it."
"Waiting (however long...)
I don't like waiting (I'll wait for you...)
It's so hard waiting (don't be too long...)
Seems like waiting (makes me love you even more...)
Waiting for a star to fall
And carry your heart into my arms
That's where you belong
In my arms baby, yeah."
Looking over to Aiken, Star saw the sadness in his eyes, the Bravo's chin lowered as he stared off into space. It was a look of regret, of longing. Even worse, Star realized, it was the look of a man that knew he was going to die.
"...Are you okay, Officer?" he asked.
The Bravo said nothing at first, perhaps reluctant to make his doubts known, perhaps distrustful of him. Eventually, Aiken heaved a great sigh. "...Yeah. Let's regroup with the others."
Star wanted to inquire further, to see what it was that troubled him, but then decided against it.
'Perhaps Rebecca would be the better person for Officer Aiken to confide in,' the albino youth thought.
Given his interactions with Aiken, it was obvious that the Bravo preferred Rebecca's company to his, and the albino couldn't really blame him; not even Star himself could tolerate his own presence.
Stepping down the F-shaped corridor, Star glanced around at the various doors and passages that they never explored.
"Shouldn't we check these out first?" he asked.
"Nah, we'll do it later," Aiken asserted. "The more numbers we have, the better our chances."
As the song ended, the survivors continued their trek through the shadows.
"'Today Sir Spencer told me to hide something where no one could find it. Well, I had this idea. I figured if I could somehow have it protected by a dangerous animal like the vicious canine that lives here, no one would be able to get near it! As far as I can tell, the mutt is always hanging around the second-floor balcony of the west terrace, and he ought to come running at the sound of a dog whistle. This is where you come in. The thing is, I reckon you're the only person that can get near that damn dog without risking a serious mauling. Which means only you can put this collar on him. The object that Sir Spencer wants hidden is concealed inside. You're the only person I can trust with this. Of course, you'll get something out of it as well. Remember that certain item you've always wanted to get hold of? Well, in exchange for your services, I just might be able to get it for you. This could work out well for both of us... Jon Toleman.'"
Once Chris finished the note, he put it into his pocket, letting out an annoyed grunt.
"Great, so we have to go back and find a dog, now," the Alpha Point Man said in annoyance.
Joseph picked up a dog whistle from a nearby table that had a chessboard on it, looking it over curiously before blowing it into his mouth.
Rebecca jumped as Star let out a strangled scream.
"Star?" she said worriedly.
Dropping his suitcases, the albino doubled over and fell to his knees as he grabbed the sides of his head, wincing and crying in pain.
"What's going on?" Aiken asked.
"I don't know!" Rebecca replied as she moved to the albino's side. "Star what's wrong?!"
The albino clutched his ears.
"MY EARS!" He shouted. "MAKE IT STOP! GOD, MAKE IT STOP!"
'What in the world?' Rebecca thought. "Star, try massaging your inner ears!"
Star complied, his face contorted in agony. A few minutes later, he opened his eyes.
"Thank God!" He sighed.
"Are you okay?" Rebecca asked as she helped him up to his feet. "What happened?"
Star shook his head as he got back up.
"I-I don't know!" He replied. "I just heard this whistling in my ears, and it felt excruciating! God, didn't either of you hear that?!"
Rebecca shook her head. "I didn't hear anything." She looked at Richard. "Did you?"
"Nope," Aiken answered.
Star looked quizzically at them both. "But..." he sighed. "...Never mind. My apologies."
Picking up his suitcases, the albino hurried away. Looking to Richard, the two Bravos exchanged confused looks, then followed after him.
Jill pulled the door open, peering inside. Before her was a small grey ornate room with a black-tiled floor, the tiles marked with a black umbrella symbol. On the walls were elaborate murals on all four sides, the murals themselves depicting trees, horses and people in sixteenth century clothing.
Or was it seventeenth?
Jill frowned. Who cared? She wasn't a historian.
It looked nice, that was all she could say about it. Stepping inside, the Alpha looked around curiously. It was a very small room, about six or seven by seven, with a very high ceiling. Staring up, Jill scratched her head, puzzled.
What was the purpose of this room?
Seeing the door to her left, Jill stepped into the next room, studying its contents. A dreary grey room with a coat hanger in the corner beside the door, it appeared to be a parlor, with a deer's head hanging from the right wall over a painting in a gold frame. Looking down to the latter, she scrutinized it carefully. The painting depicted what seemed to be a gathering of people preparing themselves for a fox hunt.
Jill scoffed. Given the survivors' situation, she couldn't help noting the irony.
Beneath the painting was an burnt-out fireplace that had two candelabras, a clock and two bronze horse statues sitting over the mantle. Stepping toward it curiously, Jill could tell just from the smell that it had been put out recently. Something had been burned up, but she couldn't tell what it was, all that remained were ashes. A small cabinet sat to the left of the fireplace and featured an assortment of photos, fancy dishware and other collectibles. Turning around, sitting directly in front of the fireplace in the middle of the living room was a comfortable-looking black leather couch with a brown wooden coffee table. Various picture frames hung from the walls, but one frame in particular caught Jill's interest; hanging from a pair of hooks past the couch at the other end of the room was a wall-mounted shotgun, a Remington M870.
Seeing the weapon, Jill smiled. "Now we're talking."
Stepping toward it, she took the shotgun off from the hooks, studying it carefully. Hearing a click, Jill glanced up to see the hooks raise themselves upward.
"Huh?" That's odd.
Was she supposed to put something there? Reaching to her belt, Jill brought up the broken shotgun, then looked back to the hooks.
Suppose...nah! She needed every weapon she can get.
'Who are you kidding?' Part of Jill thought. 'Don't you see the condition it's in, girl? There's no way you can use it without killing yourself.'
The Alpha considered her options.
"Fuck it," she said.
Placing the broken shotgun onto the hooks, she watched as the hooks sank back into position. Giving a satisfied nod, Jill smiled as she holstered the shotgun.
"Right! Looks like that's about it."
Turning around, Jill made her way back to the entrance. As she opened the door, she froze, her eyes widening in alarm.
He was standing right in front of her.
The statue that wasn't a statue. The demon. The Magician.
Jill shook as she stared, her mouth gaping open. Ducking low through the doorway, its metallic horns scraping the arch, the creature stepped through, its eyes focused on Jill as she backed slowly away.
Jill immediately forgot about the shotgun along with her pistol.
All of her S.T.A.R.S. training ceased functioning as she eyed the creature, her mouth feeling dry as she struggled to breathe. Jill suddenly felt like a little girl all over again.
Opening her mouth, what came out was a pithy, strangled squawk.
Jill could feel her own throat constricting as it stepped closer and closer. She kept backing away, her eyes focused on the creature, her brain demanding her to take action, to fight, to run, to scream, to do something!
And then it happened - stumbling, Jill shrieked as she collapsed onto the coffee table behind her, the wood crunching beneath her weight as she struggled back to her feet.
As the creature continued toward her, the B&E specialist screamed even louder and scrambled frantically over the couch, her mind a whirlwind of panic.
The Magician didn't react to her outburst; it merely followed after her, stepping slowly toward her one monstrous foot at a time, swaying its disproportionately elongated limbs from side to side like some sort of ape.
Jill could swear that it was being deliberate - she could see laughter lines in its cold dead pale eyes, even if its face was calm and empty.
Navigating her way around the couch, the Alpha bolted for the door, slamming it shut behind her as she stumbled toward the other, desperate to put as much distance between herself and that thing, tears running down her face. Grabbing hold of the handle, she tried wrenching it open, only to find it locked.
"Come on, come on!" she whimpered.
Dust fell from the walls to the floor as something rumbled overhead. Looking up, Jill's eyes widened as she saw the ceiling coming down.
"Oh God! What did I do now?" the Alpha muttered before shouting at the door. "WESKER! BARRY! HELP!"
The ceiling lowered at an agonizingly slow pace, creeping lower and lower.
"HELP!" Jill screamed. "SOMEBODY HELP ME! WESKER! BARRY, WHERE ARE YOU?!"
She watched as the distance between her and the ceiling started to recede even further.
"BARRY, HELP!"
"JILL! YOU IN THERE!" Barry called from the other side.
"BARRY?! GET ME OUT OF HERE! THE DOOR'S JAMMED!" Jill cried as she ducked low to the floor.
"Stand back!" There came a loud boom. The next thing Jill knew, the door whipped open.
"Grab my hand!" Barry said as he reached for her. Taking hold, Jill felt herself dragged along the floor, the two S.T.A.R.S. members stumbling over as the ceiling slammed down, causing the floor to shake.
"Barry! Thank God!" Jill said in relief.
"That was a close one!" Barry said as he sat right up and dusted himself off. "If I had been a second late, you would have become a Jill sandwich!"
Jill smiled. "You always do have a way with words, Barry," she said as she took his hand and got to her feet. "God, you are a sight for sore eyes!"
Wiping her eyes, the B&E specialist looked fearfully back to the door.
'There's no way it could have gotten out of there,' she tried to tell herself.
It's trapped in there.
Turning back to face Barry, she opened her mouth to say something, only to cut herself off as she caught sight of the looming presence behind the Weapons Supplier.
"BARRY BEHIND YOU!" She shrieked.
Jill watched as the great bear of a man whipped around with his Colt Anaconda drawn and pointed it directly at the Magician, waiting for him to fire.
She braced herself for the shot.
It never came.
What the hell?
Barry looked around in confusion. "I don't see anything!"
The Magician's eyes wickedly shined in dark amusement as Jill eyed it with loathing.
"It's right in front of you!" Jill pointed.
"What are you talking about?!" Barry asked.
"The Magician! He's standing right in front of you!"
Turning around to face her, Barry gave her a doubtful and concerned look. "Jill...are you okay?"
"He's right there, Barry!" Jill said angrily. "He's RIGHT! FUCKING! THERE!"
"There's nothing there, Jill. It's just us," he assured.
The Magician tilted its head at an angle, its impassive face marked with the mocking laughter lines in its eyes. Taking out the pistol from her holster, Jill aimed at the monstrous fiend.
"Whoa!" Barry raised up his hands. "Jill...what are you doing?"
"It's behind you, Barry!"
"Jill, let's talk. Put the gun down."
The B&E specialist felt her hands trembling as the Magician stepped closer to Barry. Its face was now a black featureless veil of shadow, its eyes a pair of malevolently glowing pearls that stared directly at Jill, moving so close that it was practically peering over the big man's shoulder.
"Jill-"
Pulling the trigger, she watched as Barry recoiled, the bullets phasing through the Magician's countenance.
"JESUS CHRIST!"
Jill felt the wind knocked out of her as Barry tackled her into the door, a shot taking out an overhead lamp, throwing the room into partial darkness.
"Barry let me go!" She said through grit teeth.
"That's enough, Jill!" Barry barked.
"You don't understand, the Magician is going to kill us!"
"Jill stop this-"
One swipe was all it took.
One swipe from the creature's clawed hand, and then Barry's head was gone, leaving only a stump that was gushing a fountain of blood onto Jill as she screamed.
Dropping Barry's body, the Alpha looked to her arms and hands in horror as her whole body was stained in gore, her screams never ceasing for a moment. Twisting around, Jill stumbled drunkenly away in tears, adrenalin coursing through her body as she sought to escape her malignant pursuer.
Running through one corridor, then another, and another, she kept running, her legs and feet aching and protesting, the confident woman now reduced to a whimpering and crying child.
As she turned the next corner to the left, she screamed again as the Magician greeted her.
Turning around, she barely had time to react as something grabbed hold of her and slammed her into a wall, pinning her against it.
Jill struggled to breathe as the creature lifted her up into the air by the neck, its vice-like grip threatening to snap her head clean off at a moment's notice. No matter how hard she punched or kicked, the entity took no notice.
It merely stared at her, tilting its head curiously.
Turning her face to one side, then the other, the Magician casually looked her over. Once it finished, it forced her to face him, then leaned its horned head forward, leaning closer and closer until she could feel it pressing its forehead against hers, the cold steel of its horns pressing against her sweat-slicked skin.
The coldness of metal was then replaced with a tingling warmth that became warmer and warmer until it became so scalding hot that Jill let out an agonized scream.
The Magician pushed its forehead further into hers, its strange flesh seeping into her own, the heat completely intolerable.
Visions flashed before her eyes of her childhood and her father, followed by her being interviewed by Captain Wesker and meeting Chris for the first time.
Other visions started to appear - a ruined landscape crawling with undead.
Blood-soaked streets and buildings.
A huge, dilapidated skyrise on a seemingly small, fortified island that loomed fifty or so feet over a partially scorched circular courtyard at the front, standing erect like a massive black tombstone, the courtyard marked with what looked like a checkered pyramid design with gruesome faded images of various creatures.
A massive amphitheater in what seemed to be a cave somewhere with various overhanging catwalks, strange lantern-like containers, and a great ring surrounding something in its center, something enormous, with either sails or flapping wings, each flap producing an icy, hazy gust of wind that obscured the rest of it.
As images flashed through her mind, faster than she had time to blink, Jill felt her eyes roll into the back of her head, her mind overwhelmed, her head feeling as if it were ready to implode. Images blurred together, and then finally, it ceased.
Soon after, the Alpha lost consciousness, her vision fading to black.
"Jill? Jill!"
Opening her eyes, Jill dazedly rubbed her head. She was leaning against the wall in a semi-seated position. Looking up, she saw Barry crouched over her.
"BARRY!" She yelled, catching the big man off-guard as she grabbed hold and held him in a tight hug. "Thank God! Thank God you're alright!"
Barry shifted, then hesitantly and awkwardly hugged her back.
"Eh...okay?" he said questioningly.
Pulling away, Jill looked around in confusion.
"What happened?" she asked.
"You just passed out," Barry said. "You don't remember?"
She shook her head.
"No," Jill swallowed.
Pushing herself off the floor, she stumbled for a moment.
"Easy," Barry said as he grabbed hold of her.
"I'm fine," Jill said, shrugging him off.
"Are you sure?"
"Yeah," she assured. Raising her head, Jill glanced around. "Where is he?"
"Where's who?"
"Him! The Magician!"
Barry stared at her. "What are you talking about?"
"He was..." she trailed off. Had everything been a dream?
'Of course it was,' the rational part of her assured. Barry was still alive, as she could plainly see.
Jill cleared her throat as she straightened herself. "...Never mind."
"You okay, Jill?" Barry asked. "You look pretty shook up."
Taking in a deep breath, Jill let out a shaky sigh. "Y-Yeah." God, that was horrible! She had never felt so frightened in her life, nor had she ever screamed as much as she had! Turning to face him, she gave him a curious look. "Where have you been? We've been looking for you."
Barry shrugged. "I just had something I wanted to check. Anyway, we should get back to searching for Wesker and the others."
As Barry started to depart, Jill smiled. "Thanks, Barry. I owe you one."
"Don't mention it," he replied stiffly, his back facing her.
Jill watched as the big man wandered away, puzzled by his reaction. Looking back to the door, she shuddered, then quickly walked down the next corridor.
Barry didn't like it one bit. Something had been up with Jill - Jill was a tough woman, and yet when he found her, she was on the brink of tears. Jill...crying!
It seemed impossible to believe...and yet...he saw that something had deeply affected her.
"Something wrong?"
Barry scowled at the voice behind him. "What is it, Wesker?" he said impatiently, turning to face the man in black.
"What's the matter?" Wesker asked.
"Jill was nearly killed," Barry said pointedly.
"Is she alright?"
He nodded. "Yeah. Just shook up."
The sunglasses remained focused on him.
"Hm." Wesker then turned away.
As the Alpha Captain departed, an idea started to form in Barry's head, causing him to grin.
"By the way, Captain," he spoke, causing Wesker to pause mid-step, "congratulations!"
Wesker stood with his back facing Barry.
"On what?" he queried.
Barry's grin grew. "You're a father."
"What?"
Barry took a step forward. "You heard me. You're a daddy, just like me!"
The Alpha Captain remained still for a moment, then shook his head.
"I don't know what you're talking about," Wesker replied, brushing something off from his vest.
"Well, I know for a fact that your child is here with us at this mansion as we speak," Barry said, feeling emboldened. "With the team."
Wesker turned around to face him. "Even if I am a father...what of it?" A small smile started to form on the Captain's sculpted lips, causing Barry to wince. "Are you trying to relate to me, Barry?"
Barry stared at the black-clad figure, trying to stand his ground. "No," he said with a shake of his head. "I'm a little concerned about your kid's safety. It's pretty dangerous here, and if your kid's not careful, they could end up getting hurt." His fingers clutched around the handle and trigger of Colt Anaconda for emphasis as he eyed the man in black.
Wesker's smile grew. "Barry, Barry, Barry," he said, shaking his head amusedly as he approached, patting Barry on the shoulder as he uttered a low dry chuckle. "A word of advice, old friend - stick to what you know. Planning and negotiations aren't your strong suits." Dropping the smile, he leaned in, then spoke in a low voice. "Do you honestly think you can just threaten me?"
Barry's grip tightened on his weapon. "I'm warning you, Wesker - back off!" the Weapons Supplier warned. "So help me God, I'll find and kill your kid!"
"Then you better do it," came the reply.
"I swear to God, Wesker, I'll do it!" He growled.
Despite the threat, Wesker remained perfectly composed. "What makes you think I would care?"
Barry stared at Wesker incredulously.
"Your first mistake, Barry," the man in black began, the air thick and heavy as he gave a dark look, "is believing me to be a sentimentalist. If I were a sentimental man...if I had actually cared what happened to my offspring...then the last thing you should be doing is threatening them. If I actually had felt something for them...I would have tortured you slowly, then tear you limb from limb with my bare hands."
Barry felt the hairs on the back of his neck rise. How could he be so cool, especially when talking about murder and torture?
"So you do care," Barry said, trying to hide his fear.
Wesker smiled. "I don't. Like I said, that was if I were a sentimental man. Fortunately for you, Barry, I'm not. I would rather shoot my own child myself than let anyone have the satisfaction of doing so."
The Weapons Supplier felt his insides turn cold. How could anyone be so...cruel?
"But...your own child?" Barry said.
Wesker pushed his sunglasses up, Barry's startled reflection looking back at him.
"Why not?" he replied in a casual manner, as if it were the most obvious thing to do. "Considering I brought it into the world in the first place, it would only be appropriate for me to be the one to take it out."
Burton stared in horror at the man in black. This guy was on a whole other level!
The Alpha Captain tilted his head to the side, his concealed eyes appraising the Weapons Supplier.
"You seem distracted, old friend." A smirk crept up one corner of Wesker's mouth. "Perhaps I should pay a visit to my child now after all and get it over with."
Wesker was just about to turn away when Barry reached up in alarm.
"No!" Barry pleaded as he put his hand on Wesker's shoulder. "Please, wait!"
No sooner had his hand touched the fabric of his shirt when the Alpha suddenly found himself spun around with his arm locked tightly behind his back, Wesker's vice-like grip threatening to break it with a simple twist as he was forced down onto his knees.
"Your second mistake, Barry," the velvety voice said lowly into his ear, his tone cool, although there was a slight hint of a simmering ferocity that threatened to bubble up, "is challenging my authority. Don't. Ever. Do it. Again. Am I clear?"
For emphasis, he wrenched Barry's arm more, causing the big man to let out a strangled cry.
"Yes," he winced, his arm screaming in protest. "Yes!"
"Good." With that, Wesker released his arm. "Now get up, we have work to do."