(A/N) Definitely this is the chapter where the writing makes a bit more sense. This chapter is a bit dark I think, but not by much.

Disclaimer - This story was written with AI Dungeon just for fun, meaning that some stuff was written by me and others were written by the AI. This results in OOC moments, especially in James' case, and chaotic energy in general. It's also why my writing style is different since this is mostly AI generated.

I also do not own these franchises or their characters. Silent Hill belongs to KONAMI, Resident Evil belongs to CAPCOM, and Final Fantasy IX and NieR:Automata belong to SQUARE ENIX.


Chapter 5: Capture and Interrogation

Two hours later...

James, Zidane, and 9S were taken to a secluded location. James couldn't make heads or tails of where they were due to how dark it was outside. It looked to be a wooded area, that much was certain. He wondered what Piers was up to. He had to know something was wrong by now and was looking for them. He was also curious how he hadn't heard the chaos of his group's abduction. Their captors weren't quiet about it.

James was shoved face down on a hard, cold stone floor.

With him being gagged, he couldn't talk so he could only groan in pain. The armed men still hadn't taken care of his wound, it was a miracle how it hadn't gotten infected yet. He then heard what sounded like his other group members getting shoved to the ground.

"Get off me!" Zidane yelled through his gag, struggling in his captor's grip.

"Knock him out, we don't have time for this shit," one of the men ordered.

James attempted to stand up, but his bindings wouldn't allow him to. He couldn't let these men harm his team anymore than they've done already, but he couldn't move. His bindings were tight, his shoulder hurt, and his gag wouldn't allow him to verbally protest. He watched as Zidane was hit hard across the head with the butt of a rifle, sending him to sleep and leaving a red mark above his eye.

James tried to move, but he promptly had his arm stepped on. He let out a pained groan as he continued to struggle.

"Stop fighting, you were the one who said you'd come peacefully," one of the men spat. "Just wait for our boss to get here like a good boy."

James shook his head in pain, before a boot slammed into the base of his skull. He let out a yell before a hand reached over, grabbed his hair, and smashed his head into the floor.

"Stop!" 9S screamed through his gag, as he tried to squirm out of one of the men's grip.

James continued to yell as the boot slammed into the base of his skull a second time. He let out a terrified scream as the man smacked him onto the floor a third time.

9S upon seeing the inhumane display, headbutted his captor and tried to crawl to James with his binds intact. Before he could make it, one of the men stepped on his back.

"I don't think so," the man taunted.

James continued to struggle, even as the man brought the gun up to James' mouth and shoved it in.

"No!" 9S cried out, before a phone was heard ringing.

A man who wasn't in the process of restraining someone left to answer it.

While the men were busy listening in on the call, James could feel his consciousness slipping away from him. That was quite the beating he took. He was in pain. A minute nap wouldn't hurt, right?

He went to close his eyes until he noticed 9S shaking his head. For as long as he's known the guy, he's never seen him without his blindfold on, which he claimed were goggles, so he'd never seen his eyes before since his usual blindfold was being used as a makeshift gag. His eyes were a very light blue framed with long eyelashes and now that James could see 9S' face in its entirety, he looked almost like a porcelain doll. His eyes were pleading, but what for James didn't understand.

"Okay, the boss is on his way," James heard before he passed out.


An hour later...

James woke up strapped to a wooden chair with the gag in his mouth removed. He looked around and saw a room with a desk and some file cabinets in the corner. There were a few doors along the side wall, all of them closed and locked. In the middle of the room was a large, flat-screen TV on a stand with a VCR attached to it. On the floor was a rug with patterns that James could only describe as Oriental. It looked old and rugs like that weren't supposed to be thrown out, but he understood it was probably a "gift" from someone.

James looked around the room and past the closed doors. From what he could tell, there was no one else in the room.

He sat up and took in a deep breath through his nose.

"Hey, what the heck are you doing to me?" he yelled. "Where are my friends?"

James noticed he had a number of cuts on his knees and elbows from the rope used to bind him.

"I asked you nicely to come with me," said a deep voice.

"And we did!" James snapped. He winced when he remembered his shoulder, it had finally been bandaged. "Where are my friends?" he asked again.

"They're here, they'll be here," the deep voice replied, like it was no big deal. "Now, let's you and I have a little talk."

James felt his jaw clench.

"Who the hell are you?"

"The name's Simmons, Derek Simmons."

James' eyes narrowed.

"You're a bio-terrorist, aren't you? Like Wesker."

"Guilty as charged."

James' mind raced. He needed to figure out a way out of this room, but it looked like he was in a small prison.

"Okay, what's the plan?"

"Do you really think I'm going to tell you?" Simmons spat. "I want to know what you've done with my documents and why you were sticking your nose where it doesn't belong."

James' cheeks heated.

"Hey, I'm not the one holding a gun to your head, pal," James said. "You're being a douche." He narrowed his eyes again. "Untie me so I can save my friends and head home," he said.

"I don't think you quite understand the situation you're in," said Simmons.

He clicked his fingers as a man entered the room with a bound and unconscious Zidane. A knife was pointed at his throat.

"Well, explain the situation to me, you piece of crap," James growled.

"Not so nice," said Simmons, looking insulted. "You'll learn to treat people with a little more respect."

The man holding Zidane stabbed him in the arm making him scream. James flinched. The man ignored James and went to cut off Zidane's screaming with a hard tug on his gag.

James' eyes widened.

Zidane had a black eye, but it wasn't the first time he'd been in a fight. He could take care of himself.

"Leave him alone!" James yelled.

Simmons looked down at James with an eyebrow raised. "I don't think you're in a position to give orders."

James' eyes narrowed. He'd never been more insulted by a man in his life.

Zidane had regained his senses and began to struggle in the man's grip.

James was ready to leap out of his chair in a fight.

"Stop it!" James yelled. "Let us go!" He turned to Simmons and bared his teeth. "If you don't let my friends go right now, I'll..."

"You'll what?" Simmons smirked. "You'll what? Beat me? You're not in the position to do that."

James' fists clenched. "You smug son of a...!"

Simmons slapped James.

James grumbled in disgust. This was just the beginning.


Yeah, I think this is one of the most genuinely interesting chapters myself and the AI have come up with. It's still nonsensical, but it had the drama down.

Improvements are appreciated, please tell me what I did right, wrong and how I can improve. If you would like, you could also favourite and follow this fic, as well as suggest areas of improvement, which I guess is the same as the first sentence. R&R and thanks for reading!