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 Eighteen: Redfield

Curien fidgeted with his watch, shifting his jaw.

"...Any sign of him?" he pressed.

The subordinate shook his head. "Negative, Lord Curien. He's hard to pin down."

Curien raised his hand to his goateed chin, stroking it thoughtfully as light reflected off his sunglasses.

'What are you up to?' he wondered.

Chris groaned as he stirred.

"Ugh. What happened?" Sitting up, Redfield felt his forehead hit something. "OW! What-"

Looking up, he found himself in a very dark, tight cramped space lying straight on his back, with no visible light source anywhere. The air smelled dusky and molded.

What the hell?

"Richard?" Chris called. "Richard you there?"

Nobody answered.

"Richard? Joseph? Rebecca? Kid? Anyone hear me?"

Nothing.

Peering around, Chris tried to adjust his eyes, but he couldn't see a damn thing. All that he knew was he was in a tight-fitting space with a surprising amount of openness at the sides.

Where the hell was he?!

Reaching into his pocket, Redfield felt around. "Come on, come on! Please tell me- aha! Gotcha!"

Matches. Taking out the packet, he brought them up to his chest and started to flick. After two failed attempts, the match finally lit up, brightening his surroundings. Rolling onto his stomache, the Alpha Point Man looked carefully around, scanning the area.

Surrounding Chris was a forest of various dusty support beams and spider web-covered joists. There was still enough room for him to crawl through...but not by much.

What Chris couldn't figure out for the life of him, though, was how the hell did he get stuck underneath the goddamn floor?!

'Worry about that later,' he thought to himself. 'Right now, figure out a way to get out of here.'

"Hello?" he called from beneath the floor. "Can anyone hear me? Jill?"

Someone stomped up top, causing wood to creak and dust to spill onto Chris' face and hair. Shaking his head, Redfield spat and wiped his face, then looked to the floor above him.

"Hey, can you hear me? I'm stuck down here! Can you help get me out?"

The person said nothing.

"Hello?"

Dust spilled onto Chris' clothes as the figure moved away.

"Hey, hey! WAIT! Come back!"

The person continued on, ignoring his pleas.

Chris stared incredulously to the floor above him, then punched it with his fist in frustration. "Damn it!"

He needed to find a way out of here, but how?!

'Why not just shoot the floorboard off?' Some part of him answered.

Chris blinked, then scoffed.

Of course. Why hadn't he thought of it earlier?

Reaching into his holster, Redfield suddenly froze.

Oh no.

Checking his pockets, he felt around.

Oh no no no no!

Redfield then looked about him in various directions, rechecking his pockets to make sure his mind wasn't playing tricks on him. Finally, he lay there on his back, staring miserably up at the ceiling in the dark.

His pistol was gone.

"Fuck me," Chris sighed.

Star tilted his head to the side and listened, his scarred eyes nervously regarding his environment, his hands clenched around the handles of his bags. In retrospect, he should have left the suitcases behind, but with all these creatures running around, he couldn't risk it.

"...Hello?"

Even though his call was low and hushed, it felt loud to the albino. The tiniest utterance of a squeak would have been akin to a roar once it broke the silence.

"Can anyone hear me?"

Nobody answered.

"If anyone can hear me, please, say something!" the teenager pleaded.

He listened and waited, hoping to hear someone's voice or footstep, something to indicate that there was another person around. The mansion offered no solace - the only response Star received was the wind as it howled and whined outside, reminding him of an animal. Looking away, he proceeded anxiously on with suitcases in hand, wondering what awaited him around the corner.

Chris lay there on his back, trying to figure out his best course of action.

Maybe he could radio someone-

As the thought crossed his mind, he felt around, his heart racing.

It's got to be here somewhere.

Finding nothing once again, Chris lay his head back down onto the floor.

"Damn it."

This just keeps getting better and better.

Feeling around, Chris suddenly paused. He still had his lucky combat knife.

"Not much, but at least it's better than nothing," he spoke aloud.

Taking it out, Chris studied the small blade with a frown, then looked up to the wooden floor above him. Jabbing the knife upward, the Alpha jerked the weapon from side to side as he tried to pry it loose from the board, then jabbed upward again.

It was then that Chris heard something. Looking around, he squinted his eyes, concentrating.

It sounded like a shuffle.

Rolling onto his stomach, Chris eyed the rest of the floor, moving the burning match around. He waited a couple seconds, listening and waiting, the match's flame dimly lighting the darkness.

'It's nothing,' he tried to assure himself. Just hearing things.

Looking back up to the floor above him, Chris resumed in his work, jabbing the knife into the hard surface of the wood over and over again.

By the time he had finished, Chris had a pile of shavings resting on his shirt. He had burnt his fingers three or four times and had produced a hole the size of a baseball.

Brushing the shavings off his clothes, Redfield grabbed hold of the wood and started to yank upward, groaning as he tried to pry the wood paneling off.

"Come on!" he said with clenched teeth. "Come on!"

Straining himself, Chris felt his face warm up as he continued to apply force.

"Just a little more," he assured himself. "Just a little JESUS!"

Chris leapt up in fright as he looked down to his feet, bringing up his knees. Raising the match, he stared down his chest, parting his legs.

He could have sworn something had touched him.

Chris waited, his palms greasy, his heart rate thumping loudly in his chest.

He glanced around, then back to his feet again. Moving the match around, Chris watched as shadows danced along the various beams close by, the tiny light discoloring everything in a faint orangish hue, the rest covered in an endless lake of inky blackness.

All around him, he heard creaks, shuffles, squeaks and groaning of wood, all of it mixing with dripping water.

Something shuffled, causing Redfield to seize up in apprehension.

"...Hello?"

Chris tried to speak in a confident and assured manner, "tried" being the operative word. Despite his attempt, it ended up coming out strained, his mouth and throat feeling dry.

It was then that he heard it.

Whispering.

"Who's there?"

The voice continued to whisper, but it was impossible to hear.

"Are you a survivor?"

The whispering continued, this time joined by another voice, then another, and another. It sounded like there were dozens of people whispering all around Chris, and yet...none of them bothered to address him.

What the hell is this?

"Who are you?"

Nobody answered. They just resumed in their hushed conversation, their voices and words indistinguishable and incoherent babble.

"OW!" Chris hissed as he burned his fingers, dropping the match as he waved and blew on his hand. "Damn it."

Taking out another, he was just about to light it when he felt something warm blow directly onto the back of his neck, his form stiffening. Redfield felt his flesh creep.

He remained still as the presence inched closer, his form paralyzed, the knife in his hand quivering unsteadily. Twisting himself, he lunged the moment he detected his attacker's proximity. As he attempted to defend himself, the floor suddenly parted beneath him, causing Chris to plunge down with a yell into something moist. The walls were all fleshy, with several enormous, sharp stalactite-like protrusions at the sides, and hot air was blowing upward from somewhere down below, producing an indescribably awful smell that made his eyes tear up.

The hell? What is this, a cave-

Before Chris even had time to react, the walls closed down on him, the "stalactites" grinding and tearing through his body as he screamed in fear and agony. As the mansion continued to feast on his flesh, the Alpha felt his bones snap and crunch between its powerful multilayered teeth. He had expected it all to be over, but death, to Redfield's horror, wasn't the end; on the contrary.

It was merely the prelude.

Once his carcass had been entirely broken down, Chris watched and felt his remains slide through the mansion's walls and floors, pushed by the mansion's "circulatory system", a vast array of desecrated bodies and organs that pulsed and rippled, propelling his consciousness and parts into a vast hidden chamber.

On the walls and ceilings were great wads of flesh, some of them possessing human faces.

Chris felt every piece of himself incorporated into this horrible mass.

Every cell, every drop of blood, every nerve, every piece of bone.

With his disembodied eyes, Chris watched everything happening around him, unable to look away as this dreadful vision revealed horror after horror after horror, observing as bone was pressed into bone, sinew into sinew, skin stitched into skin.

All around him were countless numbers of bodies, countless numbers of people.

Men, women and children of all age and racial groups.

Animals, existing and extinct, terrestrial and aquatic, some even downright...alien.

Mammals.

Reptiles.

Birds.

Insects.

An enormous mausoleum constructed from the corpses of the countless fallen.

As Chris passively observed the construction of this "house of the dead", he felt a sudden and curious sensation come over him, a sort of warm, electrical surge or wave. The surge flooded through his being, reconstituting him and taking him apart all at once. It was then that Chris suddenly became aware of a presence. He couldn't see it, nor could he hear it...and yet...he knew it was there. Redfield felt it reach into his mind, indelicately searching and sifting through various parts of his memories, feeling around his brain with callous disregard and contempt. He felt as if he were being incorporated into something much larger and greater than himself, something so unimaginably vast and powerful that its mere conception was staggering. There was so much power that Chris himself felt overwhelmed by it all.

'What is this?' the Alpha wondered in amazement.

Flashes of memories flickered across his mind, some his own, some he didn't recognize, but there was far too much stuff to take in.

'Almost ready,' Chris thought to himself. 'It will only be a matter of time.'

Puzzled by these thoughts, the Alpha then watched as the nightmarish hell-scape was replaced by a blinding white light.

Opening his eyes, Chris found himself whole again, his uniform in the same state it had been in previously. Lying on the floor in the middle of a hallway, Redfield unsteadily raised himself up.

"GOjrgabegh?" he slurred incomprehensibly.

'The hell? What's wrong with my voice and speech?'

"Necbleg?"

Dazedly looking around, the Alpha pushed himself off the floor.

"Llij?" Chris called. "Acceber? Hunugoo."

Staggering, he wandered a few feet ahead, then collapsed back down, the whole world turning black.

When he opened his eyes again, Redfield found himself lying on a bed, part of him covered with a blanket. Seated beside him was the albino as he looked upon him with concern.

"Hey," the teenager greeted quietly. "How are you feeling, Officer?"

Chris swallowed.

"What happened?" he spoke, his voice feeling dry.

"I...don't really know," the teenager admitted. "When I found you, you were just wandering around with a blank look on your face, gibbering and speaking incomprehensibly. I thought you had a stroke. I'm not too sure, to be honest."

Chris looked around. "Where are the others?"

The youth frowned.

"I had been hoping you could tell me," he replied. "The last time I remember seeing all of you was at the library. Do you know what had happened?"

The Alpha Point Man tried thinking back.

"I...remember talking with Joseph and Richard," he said slowly. "After that...I can't really remember much else. I do remember being stuck underneath the floor."

"Under the floor?" the albino said in surprise.

"Yeah."

"You were attacked by that hydra?"

Chris shook his head.

"No...I mean...I think?" He recalled the sensations and events in subsequent order, shivering as he recalled getting torn to pieces. "I...I don't really know."

He turned his attention over to the albino. "What happened to Rebecca?"

The latter shook his head. "I...I don't know. We were talking and then she just...flew away."

Chris blinked. "Flew away?! What do you mean she "flew away"?!" he demanded, air-quoting. A thought suddenly occurred to him. "You let that bird thing get her?!"

"No! I swear I didn't!" the albino raised up his hands in assurance. "I had been trying to save her! It was-it was like what had happened with Officer Sullivan - she was just flying off the ground!"

The Alpha stared.

"...What are you trying to say?" he said slowly. "Are you saying that it's that Magician thing?"

"I-I don't know," the boy replied. "I...think so? I really don't know. When she disappeared, I had called out for help, but none of you were around. You had all disappeared. I had been looking for her when I found you stumbling around."

Raising himself up, Chris was about to draw away the blanket when the albino put his hands on his shoulders.

"Don't," the youth spoke. "You need to rest."

"We don't have time," Chris replied, pushing his hands away. "We need to-" It was then that he became aware of a cool breeze on his legs. Lifting up the blanket, he glanced down. "...Where are my pants?"

The albino squirmed. "When I found you...you had...made a mess of yourself. I...had to..."

He trailed off, making Redfield uncomfortable.

"...So I peed myself?" the latter stated.

Star didn't say anything, but his expression was enough of a confirmation for the Alpha. Chris suddenly found the urge to stare at the ceiling, his face flushed.

"...You shouldn't have done that," he said lowly, averting his eyes.

"I didn't really have a choice," the albino insisted. "The smell was too much-"

"I DON'T GIVE A DAMN!" Chris yelled, causing the boy to flinch, his face feeling warm with embarrassment and anger. "You had no goddamn right putting your hands on me! I'm a man, you hear me?! A full-grown man! I don't need to be changed like some goddamn baby!"

The albino stared to the floor, averting his eyes.

"...I'm...sorry." he said in a small voice.

Chris clenched his jaw shut, looking away.

"...Where are my pants?" Redfield demanded harshly.

"I had to toss them away," the teenager answered, "but-but I did find a replacement pair for you. I got these from a closet Rebecca and I found earlier, but I think they should be your size."

Moving to one of his suitcases, the youth produced a pair of blue jeans, laying them out on Chris' lap.

"Oh! And I had also removed these from your pockets prior to my disposal of the old pair that you...ruined." The albino then reached into his red coat and laid out Chris' wallet and knife on the mattress beside him. "Your boots are just on the floor here."

"Thanks," Chris grunted roughly, averting his eyes. "Now get the fuck out of here."

The albino sighed. "Officer-"

"Get the hell away from me!"

The hooded figure flinched, then dipped his head down.

"I'm...I'm sorry for embarrassing you, Officer Redfield," he apologized quietly.

Chris said nothing as he stared angrily at the ceiling.

Taking his silence as his cue, the albino turned around to leave, taking his bags with him.

"Don't breathe a word to anyone about this," Chris said lowly.

The teenager remained still, then quietly nodded. He was just about to reach for the door when he froze.

"Oh! I forgot to give this to you." Turning around, he reached into the pocket of his coat and took out a pistol. "I couldn't find your weapon, unfortunately, but you can have mine. It doesn't have much, but it's better than nothing."

Approaching the bed, the youth placed it beside Chris, then quickly turned away.

Chris frowned. "Kid-"

The youth left without saying a word, closing the door behind him.

Staring at the door for a moment, Redfield felt his frown deepen as he turned away, looking back up at the ceiling.

"Nice one, dickhead," he said to himself.

Star wandered alone, his eyes lowered as he leaned against a wall, listening to his surroundings.

He frowned.

"...I shouldn't have left my pistol with him," Star lamented.

What hell had he been thinking?! What kind of moron does that?!

Banging the back of his hooded head against the wall with a thud, he let out a slew of angry curses.

What made him even remotely think that the police officer was in a good enough state to wield a firearm in the first place?! If he didn't blow his own brains out, it will be a miracle!

"Idiot!" Star snarled as he banged the back of his head against the wall.

And to top it all off, he was now completely defenseless, making his attempt at rescuing Rebecca even more difficult.

"Idiot!"

He wished he had his swords with him. What was he thinking?! Who the hell would wander around in this hellhole without a weapon?!

"Idiot!"

Leaning against the wall, Star took in a deep breath.

"I'm so useless," he said in a low voice, looking miserably down in silence, his scarred eyes focused on the floor.

Sighing, Star then pushed himself away, looking back to the hall where he had left Officer Redfield, conflicted.

Should he...go back?

'No,' part of him thought. 'Officer Redfield can take care of himself.'

'But he can't!' Another side countered. 'Who knows how long he'll be stable for! For all you know, he's had a stroke.'

'That wasn't a stroke.'

Star froze, startled by the thought.

Wasn't it? It had certain elements consistent with a stroke, but by the same token...it was so...strange. Officer Redfield seemed so strong, fit and healthy, a young man in his twenties. Strokes tend to usually occur for people over sixty-five.

It was then that Star thought about his experience with Rebecca, back when they had been locked together in that room, when she demonstrated that shift in personality.

Star frowned.

What was he thinking? Did he honestly believe there was some sort of connection?

He scoffed. Absolutely ridiculous.

Star then recalled the words Rebecca used.

"I have been waiting for this moment for some time. Now you shall have a taste of the pain that I had to endure."

Putting his bags down, Star crossed his arms and held his chin, pondering what she said.

What does that even mean? Had he really caused such misery for Rebecca?

The albino glumly lowered his eyes.

Stupid question.

Since coming here, it almost felt as if he carried with him some bad fortune. And yet, Rebecca made no such indication. In fact, she hadn't seemed to recall anything of that experience, curiously enough.

His face fell as another possibility occurred to him.

Had...had he been imagining things? Was he slowly losing his mind?

'Even if I am,' he thought determinedly, 'I will not let that stop me from doing what is right.'

'But what is right?' the other part of him countered. 'Is it right to leave a vulnerable man alone to pursue a selfish desire? To pursue a romance that in all likelihood won't ever be reciprocated?!'

He sighed sadly, picking up his bags again. Rebecca was right - he was selfish.

But at least he had enough sense to realize he can't do this on his own.

Several minutes later, Chris stepped outside.

"Kid?" he called. He cast his eyes around the stairs, then the hallway. "Kid?"

The albino was gone. Chris sighed, regretting his words and tone.

He shouldn't have taken his frustration out on the kid like that. It was obvious he had only been trying to help.

Redfield shook his head.

"If my sister were here she'd give me a good kick in the ass," he said to himself.

Hell, if Wesker were here, he'd probably shoot him, then give him a good kick in the ass for good measure.

Exhaling, Redfield let his shoulders sag.

"Is something wrong?"

"GAH!" Chris leapt up, startled as he noticed the albino climbing down the stairs. "Jesus, you scared me!"

"My apologies," the teenager said, stepping off the last step.

Chris sighed, brushing it off. "Ah, never mind."

The hooded youth then gave him a concerned look. "How are you feeling?"

"Better."

"No dizzy spells?"

"No, no. Things are cool."

"Oh. That's good."

The two awkwardly regarded each other.

Redfield cleared his throat, "Look, uh...about what happened...I was out of line."

The youth shook his head.

"You don't have to apologize-"

"No, no, I do," Chris affirmed. "I was really unfair to you, so, uh...sorry." He then added under his breath, "And thanks."

Chris watched as the youth gave him a considerate look, then followed it up with a silent nod.

Clearing his throat, the Alpha raised up the pistol.

"Right. Now that's settled, let's see if we can find the others."

Wood-paneled floors creaked beneath the survivors' footfalls as they navigated through the various rooms and corridors.

It was a continuous and repetitive cycle of walking, listening and rummaging through shelves and chests for supplies, though occasionally the monotony of it would be broken up by the odd encounter here and there.

At first, Chris went through the various parts of the mansion guns blazing, but as the survivors' supplies began to dwindle, they were then forced to rethink their strategy altogether, carefully managing their supplies and better organizing themselves.

Whatever confidence the duo felt at increased numbers began to wane with each wasted bullet.

A lot of the time the creatures just wouldn't die. For the most part, however, the duo would deliberately avoid any sort of confrontation, often sneaking or running around said-creatures if they were either too slow or incapacitated.

Chris found some use in having the albino distract the creatures, although there were times in which it would backfire, which would then cause the duo to flee as quickly as possible.

Peeking around a corner, Redfield watched a zombie shuffle along, its foot steps crashing down.

"You're up, kid," he whispered.

The albino leaned forward.

"HELLO!" Came the voice down the hall.

Chris watched as the zombie raised its head in its direction, then proceeded toward it, moving away from them.

'Jesus, this kid is something else!' Chris marveled as he and the youth took the opportunity to sneak past.

How on earth was he able to do that? It was so...uncanny. He couldn't believe it. Redfield was especially impressed with the kid's ability to perfectly control his facial muscles while he performed; in fact, he was so focused on the teenager's face that he himself had wanted to see if he can catch some hint of a twitch, some form of movement.

Nothing.

Unbelievable.

The more Chris observed the albino, the more curious he became. Even though he didn't spot any sort of obvious resemblance to Captain Wesker, the Alpha Point Man had to admit that the albino's facial control kind of reminded him of the blonde to an extent.

'Figures that would be something passed on from father to son,' Chris thought to himself.

He frowned. Jesus, Wesker as a father - what a bizarre idea!

It almost made him wonder who the lucky woman had been, but Chris stopped himself from doing so for the sake of his sanity.

As the two survivors navigated through the west wing, curiosity got the better of him.

"So," Chris began once they were a safe distance away and completely alone, "you're Wesker's kid."

The albino nodded. "Yes. Well, I believe I am."

The two awkwardly wandered on, saying nothing.

"...You like sports?" Chris started.

"Not particularly. You?"

"Yeah, I like the odd game of football."

Star hummed lowly.

The duo continued on, uncomfortably quiet. Chris then cleared his throat. "...Ever shot a gun before?"

"Not until yesterday night."

"That right?"

"It is."

"Oh." Redfield squirmed, then looked at the teenager's eyes. Christ almighty, they're freaky-looking! "...Is there a name for your condition?"

"'Cat's Eye Syndrome.'"

Chris blinked. "'Cat's Eye Syndrome'?" he repeated. "Are you serious?"

"I am," the albino nodded.

"Is this a new type of condition?"

"Not at all," he replied matter-of-factly. "The abnormalities common for it were first catalogued in 1899, although it was described in connection with a small marker chromosome in 1965."

Chris blinked three times. "Huh. I had no idea."

Who'd have thought?

The two fell back into silence.

"...Sooo..." Chris said awkwardly, "...your name is 'Star'."

"It is," the albino nodded, looking at him suspiciously. "Why?"

The Alpha raised his hands defensively. "Nothing! I was just wondering, that's all. Just out of curiosity, which do you prefer to be called, 'Jack' or 'Star'?"

"Star."

"Then why did you pick 'Jack' as your legal name?"

"Long story."

Just as much of a conversationalist as his old man. Like father like son.

Chris shrugged. "Okay, then. So...'Star Wesker', it is."

The two paused. Chris watched as the albino raised his eyes thoughtfully, considering the name.

"...Star Wesker," the youth said softly, testing it. "...That's a very odd name to have."

Chris chuckled in agreement.

Looking back up, Star cocking his head quizzically to the side, the gesture reminding Chris of a dog.

"Out of curiosity..." he said slowly and uncertainly. Hesitantly. "...what is my father like?"

Chris considered the question.

"...He's quiet," he answered slowly. "Tends to keep to himself. When I first met Wesker- ah, your father, I kind of thought that he was a stuck-up jerk. He's tough, but...he really is a nice guy. If it weren't for him and Barry, I wouldn't have gotten into S.T.A.R.S. in the first place."

He squirmed. "I'm not an easy guy to get along with, and God knows I'm pretty sure that there have been plenty of occasions where the Captain felt like strangling me...but he respected me." Redfield then added in a low voice, "He...he saved my life."

The teenager looked at him in surprise. "Did he?"

"Yeah!" Chris nodded. "We were doing a sweep of some rundown buildings during a drugs bust. I had gotten separated from the others while chasing down a suspect and part of the roof came down on top of me, pinning me there for five or six hours."

"That sounds terrifying!"

"It was. Being stuck on some dirty floor with rats crawling everywhere and sounds coming from every direction at once...I was worried that no one would ever find me. I was practically screaming for help at that point - that's how scared I was at the time! I was so sure that I was going to die down there. If it hadn't been for the Captain, I wouldn't be here today."

He paused. "Since then, I've...looked up to him, and have tried to better myself because of him."

Looking at the teenager, Chris watched with surprise as the albino's eyes lit up with admiration.

"He sounds like a good man."

Chris smiled. "He is. There aren't a lot of commanding officers I respect, but Wesker? I'd follow him to the ends of the earth."

As the pair continued on, the boy spoke, "Since your rescue, have you...bettered yourself?"

The Alpha thought about it for a moment, then shrugged.

"I...like to think so," he said uncertainly. "I mean, I'm not a priest or anything, but I think I have improved. I'm still human, though."

Chris watched as the youth considered his words.

"...Have you ever felt...uncertain...about your actions?"

The older man smiled. "All the time, but then again, who hasn't? It's just a fact of life, kid."

"Has there ever been a moment where you...questioned your own decisions?"

He scoffed.

"All the time," he answered truthfully. "Tonight especially. I can't help wondering if I should have called in sick."

Star chuckled. "Sorry. Stupid question."

Chris shrugged again. "No worries."

The albino then turned to face him. "Has Captain Wesker...welll...ever made mention of family or his eyes?"

Chris frowned.

"Afraid not," he replied. "Wesker is pretty tight-lipped about that kind of thing."

Redfield watched as the violet reptilian eyes lowered contemplatively, repressing the urge to shiver.

God, if that was what Wesker had hidden behind his sunglasses, then it's no wonder why he wore them constantly - they were so creepy!

Feeling a little guilty for the thought, Chris opened his mouth to say something, then frowned.

"...I'm...sorry for punching you in the face earlier," he muttered.

Star shrugged. "You were only doing your job."

"And...I'm sorry about Joseph," Chris added. "What he did was completely out of line."

The albino waved him off. "It's fine."

He watched the figure in red shift in discomfort, then tried to think of what else to say.

"...So...got any siblings?"

"I wouldn't know," came the reply from the latter, his voice low.

"Hm." He then glanced over at the youth, giving a sly teasing smile. "Tell me. You and Rebecca..."

The albino halted.

"Rebecca and I what?" he said, speaking guardedly.

"Come on, kid, be straight with me," Chris teased. "You fancy her?"

The albino's eyes drooped as he hung his head low, his shoulders sagging.

Chris blinked, confused by the reaction.

"Hey, what's wrong? I was only kid-" It was then that it hit him. "...Do you?"

"..."

"...You really do fancy her!" Redfield said in surprise.

The youth in red exhaled.

"...Was it worth the laugh?" he asked flatly.

"I swear I was just joking!"

"Yes, because the idea of someone such as myself being in love with the likes of her is so funny. Why not, it's so ridiculous! Who can possibly expect much from a freak?" Came the embittered response, his tone dripping acidly. "Because God knows, it's not as if those feelings will ever be reciprocated."

"Whoa! Hold up! I didn't say that-"

"You've all but implied it." The sharpness of the albino's words cut into Chris, causing the Alpha to wince. Before Chris could even put a word in, he watched as the violet eyes softened and looking down in shame. "Look...I realize that my chances of winning her heart are nil. I accept that. I...I know what I look like. I'm not blind. I have no illusions about my chances. So, go ahead and make fun of me - use every demeaning word you want to your heart's content. I'm used to it already. Just...don't do that to Rebecca. Don't make her into a laughingstock and embarrass her. She...she deserves better. Please."

Shaking his head with a sigh, the older man faced the albino, putting a hand on his shoulder.

"Look," he began, "for the record, that wasn't what I meant or intended. I was just trying to lighten the mood, but that ended up backfiring, so...sorry for the misunderstanding."

The albino was still for a moment, his hood concealing his face as the older man removed his hand.

"I'm...sorry, Officer. My apologies, I've overreacted. I'm just..." Star exhaled, then gestured to their surroundings, "...this experience is getting to me."

The officer remained quiet.

Inhaling sharply, Star exhaled. "...Tell me, Officer...do you believe it...wrong...for me to feel such things for her?"

He waited for a response.

Looking up, Star blinked, then glanced around in confusion upon finding the older man gone.

"Officer Redfield?"

What the hell? He had been standing here a second ago.

Where had he gone?

"Officer Redfield?" Star then raised his radio, flicking through the various channels as he called. "Officer Redfield?"

"Chris here. Over," the radio crackled, causing the albino let out a sigh of relief. "Everything okay?"

Star opened his mouth to respond...only to pause.

"Hello? Hello? Anyone there?"

The albino listened as Officer Redfield's voice repeated over the radio.

It sounded...odd.

Like a cheap imitation of the real thing. It reminded Star of old, badly dubbed Japanese movies that he used to watch as a kid.

Star tentatively raised the radio, pressing the receiver. "Star here. Uh...where are you?"

"I'm at the library," Redfield replied.

Star stared, rearing his head back in confusion. The hell?

"The library?" he repeated.

"Yes."

He looked around in confusion. "But...how? You and I were just talking face to face just seconds ago."

"I have no idea what you're talking about," came the reply, the tone oddly flat. "I've never left here."

The albino looked around, perplexed by the news. "...Are...are you sure?"

"Yes. Why? What happened?"

How was this possible?

"Nuh….nothing," he said in a strained voice. "My mistake."

"Come back to the library. Rebecca has been worried about you."

Star hesitated. "...Rebecca...is with you?"

"Yes. Come on back. We're all here waiting for you."

...Something wasn't right.

"...Can I talk to her?"

The voice huffed in irritation.

"You can talk to her when you get here. Don't make us wait," he said impatiently.

"Alright, alright! I'll meet you there."

"Roger. Out."

Lowering the radio, Star cast his eyes around in suspicion.

What the hell was going on around here?

Chris looked around the hallway in confusion.

"Kid?" he called.

Where did he go?

Hearing his radio go off, Chris raised it up. "Chris here."

"Chris! Thank God!"

He hesitated. "Jill?"

"We need to talk. Meet me at the dining hall."

"Everything okay?"

No answer.

"Jill?" Chris spoke into the radio. "Jill, can you hear me? Jill?"

He growled. "Stupid piece of junk."

Putting it away, Redfield glanced around the hallway.

"I hope the kid's alright..." Looking back to where he came from, Chris sighed wearily. "Well, back to the dining room I go again."