Ethan fully expected that getting to the HQ by foot would not be a walk in the park.
The first five minutes of their trek did little to prove him correct, however. The only real issue was the seemingly omnipresent bluish mist, which served as a nerve-wracking constant - despite Dion's assurance that the respirator masks, which they have equipped in the shelter, provided sufficient protection against the airborne virus, at least the diluted version of it.
Traversing the eerily empty streets and surrounded by oppressive silence, the diminished Bravo Team proceeded in near reverent silence, as if afraid to break the fragile illusion of apparent safety. Even Cassandra, normally so proud and boisterous, kept her sharp tongue to herself; after all, who knew what kind of monsters lurked inside the vision-obscuring mist… For once in her long and bitter life, the middle Dimitrescu sibling was not looking for a fight - at least not a meaningless one.
Likewise, even though his life seemed to try its best to beat out every speck of optimism from Ethan, he had hoped to avoid any unnecessary confrontation that could delay him from reaching his beloved child in time. That said, the man was prepared to fight tooth and nail if he had to - as much as one can be prepared, armed with just a single 9mm pistol with 6 rounds in the clip.
The unfortunate reality was that the aforementioned meager armament made Ethan the most well-armed person in their group. Dion's looted sidearm was lost amidst the chaos of their crash landing, while Cassandra's twin P90s were discarded immediately after her reckless intervention against the attack drone, which had almost cost her her life - under such circumstances, nobody could really blame either for their misplaced guns.
Still, as Ethan - taking the point in their little procession - nervously adjusted his grip on the pistol, he couldn't help but bemoan the fact that Dion had nothing but his bare hands to defend himself with, while Cassandra was now armed with just some cheap knife she managed to lift from a kitchenette, which they had passed after visiting the shelter area. Suppressing a small shudder at a sudden recollection of dagger-inflicted violence, the man had to remind himself that even a simple kitchen knife was a deadly weapon, especially in Cassandra's hands.
Consumed by their own grim thoughts, the trio of unlikely companions continued in silence, though Ethan was not deaf to Cassandra's somewhat labored breathing, coming from right behind him. If not for the fact that they were pressed for time or the near-certainty of Cassandra's ire being directed at him if he tried that, Ethan would've surely offered to slow down their admittedly hurried pace. Things being as they were, the man walked without saying a word, though unlike his tongue, his eyes knew no rest.
Just at the corner of his sight, there was that accursed red silhouette, seemingly taunting him with its intangibility, as every time he would turn his gaze, it would already be gone - only to appear elsewhere seconds later. Gritting his teeth and feeling cold sweat trickling down his brow, Ethan had to endure this phantom, though it was getting harder, as what sounded like far-away giggling was seemingly carried by the wind. Except there was no wind blowing upon the deserted streets of New York at this hour today.
The inexplicable, illusory gust-like phenomenon blew so very lightly against Ethan's skin, akin to a gentle touch, yet it was anything but pleasant - chilling him to his bones and allowing the dread to pool in his stomach.
The combination of intensifying visual, auditory and somatosensory hallucinations forced Ethan to grit his teeth in impotent anger and bone-chilling fear. At this rate he almost wished for something to attack them, if that meant getting rid of this accursed phantasma that stalked him now.
This is fucking crazy… Am I going crazy, at last?
"Why is it so damn cold all of a sudden?"
Cassandra, growling under her breath, while vigorously rubbing her palms against each other, had a weirdly calming effect on Ethan. The first notion was a reassuring one - he was not going insane, after all, since someone else, at least partially, experienced this same strange hallucination. The second one - not so much, since it implied that whatever it was that haunted them, was quite real.
Another phantasmic chuckle - this time coming as if from a person who all but pressed their lips into his ear - and Ethan couldn't suppress the instinct to slightly jump in place.
"Ethan?" Cassandra was not blind to his fright - her curious tone implied as much.
The man in question paused completely. "Didn't you hear that?" He didn't turn around to behold her facial expression, but he could imagine it as confused clearly enough from her response alone.
"Hear what?" A brief pause ensued, as Ethan contemplated the best way to respond to that, but before he could do so, Cassandra continued, with pensive notes in her voice, "Huh… now I hear it… sounds like…groaning?"
Now it was Ethan's turn to be confused, but not for long, as his slightly inferior senses were quick to catch up to that sound Cassandra heard first. Groaning sounds about right. Ethan was swift to put two and two together, as did Dion, "Shit…"
The preternatural chill, as well as the otherworldly presence faded just like that, only to be replaced by shambling shapes, making their way towards the small group from the misty alleyway to the side. Dressed in miraculously spotless business suits; with vacant gazes, snarling mouths and grasping hands - a bunch of zombie brokers was not something Ethan was too keen to face.
"We need to take care of them quickly and quietly - there is no telling how many more are skulking around." Immediately offered Dion, showcasing his experience in combating all kinds of bio-organic weapons.
Understandably, Ethan was not too happy about the implication, even if the alternative was not exactly presenting itself. Running away from these would probably only attract an entire horde. "Wrangling with zombies? That's just great." Beyond the obvious unpleasantness of grappling with rapidly decomposing, half-dead husks, Ethan was not particularly eager to inflict violence upon the unfortunate souls which were forever claimed by the insidious C-Virus. He was all too aware that mere hours ago they were ordinary people, just going about their daily lives - none of them asked to be turned into flesh-eating monstrosities. Naturally, a certain someone didn't share his reservations.
"Tsch." A noise of indignation from Cassandra, followed by a derisive, "Men." and off she goes to face the four zombies by her lonely, wounded self; a cheap kitchen knife at the ready - with no hesitation whatsoever in her step. As if wrangling zombies was something she did for fun back in her old days. She probably did.
Briskly approaching the group of zombies - while the zombies themselves accelerate at the visual stimuli - Cassandra did not waste a breath in plunging her knife deep into the first shambler that lunged at her. Unsurprisingly, wielded with the vampire's superior strength, even the cheap kitchen knife was able to easily pierce the rotting flesh and the tough cranium bone of the unfortunate undead.
A blink of an eye and the dagger was already freed out of one prison of flesh and bone, only to be thrown into another - with terrifying precision and strength.
The two first zombies collapsed almost simultaneously, but Cassandra was not done yet. Her clenched fist flew with her trademark power, hitting the third undead square in the mouth, causing it to tumble backwards like a ragdoll, with the snapping sound of a dislocated jaw to accompany its fall.
The fourth and final zombie, however, was about to grasp Cassandra in its arms, with its teeth ready to find their mark in her pale neck. While the irony of the situation was not lost on Ethan, he was not about to test the brunette's resilience, so he swiftly aimed his pistol right at its head - not really thinking about causing the unwanted noise that could attract more of these, not when Cassandra was seemingly in mortal danger.
Ethan needn't have bothered. Before he could even squeeze the trigger, with some agile footwork that saw her put most of her body's mass into the blow, Cassandra's shoulder struck at the undead's jaw, producing a nasty cracking noise; in that same motion, the woman easily flowed around the zombie's clumsy grip, only to end right behind it. A swift and brutal neck snap maneuver followed. It was painfully obvious to both gaping men that this deadly move was something she had plenty of both theoretical and practical experience in performing.
Finally, the fallen zombie - down and with its jaw broken, but not out of the fight - attempted to grasp at her ankle, yet Cassandra was easily able to free her foot from its feeble grasp, before stomping right at its head - once, twice, thrice - until the skull itself cracked and the zombie stopped moving. If she was at all bothered that her torn stocking-clad sole was now caked in skull and brain fragments, she showed no sign of it.
The sight of the carnage that just took place made both men wince in synchronicity, with the display being particularly traumatic for Ethan, who remembered well that he himself was once in a position not unlike the unfortunate zombie - except Cassandra had chosen to help him stand up back then, instead of crushing his skull, thankfully.
"Can I just express my admiration for your zombie-slaying prowess, Miss Dimitrescu?"
Very likely smirking under her respirator, Cassandra clearly enjoyed the positive attention she received from Dion, with her response coming in cocky as expected, even as she pulled out her knife from a zombie's cranium with practiced nonchalance, using the deceased man's own suit to clean the blood off.
"You may."
Unfortunately, however, the breath-taking display took its toll on her injured body, and before she could strut back to them, the brunette collapsed to her knees, while hissing in obvious pain and clutching at her wounded side. Fresh blackish blood started to trail from the injury in question, right through and down her pale fingers.
Showcasing his own incredible reaction times and speed, Ethan was at her side in a heartbeat, helping her stand up while mumbling out the obvious - to her ire, "You've reopened your wound, Cass!"
"Fuck…" The woman was clearly in pain, as she hissed a curse through clenched teeth.
Guiding Cassandra to the nearby bench, Ethan motioned for Dion to procure a fresh bandage from the small first aid kid he had liberated from the shelter's extensive stores. Thankfully, the local officials did not skimp on stocking the emergency shelters.
Accepting the kit with a simple nod of gratitude, Ethan got to work. After all the training sessions with Chris, he was well-versed in applying first aid. Letting out a sigh, Ethan did not waste any time in addressing the grisly injury in her abdomen.
The previous, blood-soaked bandage was carefully removed, while the bleeding wound - which really needed proper medical care, and not mere first aid, as it was torn around by some kind of serrated flechette - tenderly cleaned with an antiseptic cloth. The best he could do now was to spray the injury with the blood-clotting stimulant to temporarily stop the bleeding, while applying a fresh antiseptic bandage. It was a mere step above slapping a band-aid on it, but it was all they could do right now.
Throughout the brief procedure, Cassandra has not said a word, but Ethan was not blind to several tears that trickled down her eyes. He was quite sure that they were not caused by pain, however, even though the woman had undoubtedly suffered more than a little physical discomfort at this moment.
"You're not a burden, Cass."
Knowing her and seeing the signs of mounting frustration in her tense frame, Ethan felt like this was what gnawed on her heart and the comforting words left his month before he could even process them himself.
The heavy scoff that was her response implied that Ethan was quite correct in his assumptions, yet not convincing enough to completely dispel that laughable notion.
"I… I am just slowing you down."
The admission was delivered in a tone that was everything Cassandra ordinarily wasn't - meek, quiet, dejected. And even if Ethan agreed with that statement, it was far too late to do anything about it - the safety of the shelter was behind them and none of them would turn back at this juncture. But Ethan was not conceited enough to judge Cassandra for her burning desire to assist her family, or her moment of weakness right now.
"As if." Done with addressing her injury, Ethan did not hesitate in doing something that would've surely cost him an arm and a leg at one point of their acquaintance - he placed both of his hands at the sides of Cassandra's head, turning it back up in a way that saw their gazes connect. Seeing that he had her full attention, Ethan spoke from the heart.
"None of us are some kind of an all-powerful comic-book superhero. We all need help from time to time, Cass. There is no shame in having a moment of weakness." Feeling like he was getting through to her, Ethan continued, adding some genuine mirth into his words as he spoke them, "And well, you've kicked these zombies' collective ass in seconds, Cass. I bet it would take me and Dion as much time doing the same as it took me to address your wound. You're not slowing us down at all."
Cassandra said nothing, but her expressive amber eyes spoke for her - by relaxing into a peaceful shape.
In turn, Dion opened his mouth, as if to protest the point that questioned his own zombie-slaying skills, but apparently decided against it, instead merely conceding, "Indeed, Miss Dimitrescu. Captain is one lucky bastard to have such a badass girlfriend."
Hearing that, Cassandra let out a small gasp of uncertain meaning, before letting out a stupefied, "Girlfriend?"
Under his respirator, Ethan couldn't contain a growing smirk at her unexpected shyness, though he was also quite aware that they have wasted enough time here. "Can you stand, Cassi?"
"Yeah, I think so." Carefully, in a way not to exacerbate her wound, Cassandra stood up, even as her hand squeezed Ethan's own, showing her appreciation for his support. Moreover, while the tough woman would never admit it outloud, she drew no shortage of strength from the spoken implication that Chris cared about her, as well as from Ethan's own affectionate nickname.
Decades ago, Cassandra swore to never allow her human weakness to govern her actions, though the resolution of Miranda's crisis made her seriously reconsider her priorities. Nevertheless, even mere years ago, back in Cuba, Cassandra could not have even imagined developing such deep bonds with human outsiders, yet now, it felt as if her very soul was energized with warmth from just such bonds. It was Raul who had first shown her that she was not too far gone to have non-violent human contact, but it was Ethan and Chris who had confirmed that her friendship with the Cuban outcast was not just some freak accident that could never be repeated. She could still return to this world she had scorned for so long.
And now - after a seemingly endless life of bitterness, Cassandra found herself all too happy to allow her heart of ice to melt. Her broken body, as if invigorated by these bright thoughts and kind words, regained the strength to move on, once again.
"I hope Chris is okay…"
Nobody was as surprised by Cassandra's words of genuine care for some human man, especially since they were spoken with rare tenderness, as was she herself. But the truth is, just like Bela had come to care for Ethan, so did Cassandra find herself caring about that silly man-thing that was known as Chris Redfield. Even though originally she saw him as little more than just some delicious looking piece of meat that could satisfy her carnal cravings, Cassandra could not deny her ever-growing attraction to the large captain. The unexpected depth of his complex character and the enormous suffering he had lived - no, not merely lived through, but fought through - was like a beacon of light, which Cassandra could not ignore even if she wanted to. A lifetime of struggle and hardship, and the resilience to get through it all to fight another day - that was something Cassandra could relate to on the most primal of levels. That's why, the reassurance that soon came from Dion meant the world to her.
"Captain is one tough son of a bitch. He'll get through whatever these Bloodfang bastards throw at him in one piece - count on it."
Even as they resumed their brisk pace towards their destination, Ethan added his own two cents, further encouraging the brunette. "You of all people should show that Chris is not easily brought down, Cass. He is honestly the last person I'd worry about…" What started as a reassurance, however, quickly degraded into an unspoken plea, to which Cassandra was not deaf or blind to, especially since Ethan briefly turned his head back, to longingly gaze in the direction where the contact with Bela's team was lost.
"Bela is just fine, Ethan."
The firmness of her statement was unquestionable.
"I sure hope so, Cass."
Apparently, that was the wrong thing to say, since a playful, but firm slap soon connected with the back of his head, followed by an admonishment, "Leave your hope for when there is uncertainty. Bela is alive and well. I know it. I am certain of it."
Her conviction was infectious, but Ethan still turned his head to gaze into her amber eyes, curious as from whence she drew such certainty. Seeing the unspoken question, Cassandra, not stopping, provided a peculiar answer.
"The bonds of sisterhood that tie us transcend the material plane."
While Ethan would never consider Cassandra dim-witted - not even close - that particular enigmatic statement did not sound like something she would normally come up with. Her next words confirmed his suspicions, though they also provided a strange kind of solace.
"Bela has once said it. I never really knew what it meant, but now? I think I do." Turning her narrowed gaze to a direction of their destination, Cassandra placed one hand upon the bloodied patch of her suit, right over her black heart.
"Bela is just fine, Ethan."
Even though she simply repeated her previous statement, somehow it was enough to dispel any lingering doubt that remained within Ethan. And a good thing too, since with their final destination all but in sight, the noises of violence and mayhem intensified, implying that their aid would be most welcome. Muzzle flashes could be seen, coming from a tower-like building located on the university's campus, seemingly directed at the large apartment complex opposite it, which was used by the Anti-Connection Task Force as their HQ. The glow and smoke of ground-based fires were visible even through the thick cover of viral mist.
Chaos beckoned, and Ethan was not too keen to answer its call. But of course, for his beloved child, Ethan was ready to brave Hell itself. Though it was a different thought that gave him resolve that went even beyond fatherly love, if such a thing was even possible.
Wherever she is, Bela is alright.
Bela was most definitely not alright as she gazed upon her poor sister, who had already suffered so much, yet the uncaring fate had seen fit to bestow yet more trials and tribulations her way.
For a moment, Bela still played the part of a loyal lapdog in her stolen hazmat suit, and therefore, did nothing but observe the cruel mockery that was taking place. Daniela and Catherine, arranged against Mia and her lackeys - including a young boy, who happened to be Bela's original goal in this fucked up mess of an operation they meticulously planned for the last three days. Of course, the personal nature of the current predicament left no room for Bela to care about the boy all that much, beyond noting the fact that he all but glued himself to Mia's back, concealing himself from the rest - acting much like a normal kid of his age would in such a situation - scared and seeking comfort and safety from what was likely his mother figure.
Forgetting about the kid for now, Bela focused her attention on her current person of interest - the tall man who had accompanied Mia. The way he spoke and acted implied that he was the true mastermind behind the calamity that has befallen New York City. Even Mia herself seemed to act in a subservient capacity towards him, as he ordered his underlings around.
Bela's every muscle tensed in her body as the arrogant bastard at Mia's side finally concluded his villainous posturing and proceeded with his vile schemes that made every fiber of her being lust for his blood. As the mysterious man, Mia, one Replica Bodyguard and the kid departed the parking lot, Bela had to suppress the urge to immediately break the charade and rush after them.
The elder sibling's initial plan was to intercept Mia and the strange man - Fettel, Mia had referred to him - before they would be able to threaten Alcina and Rose. The cold pragmatist within her, who valued efficiency above everything else, demanded her to do just that. Mia and Fettel were as vulnerable as they would get right now, with just one Replica bodyguard, and plenty of opposition to carve through. This was a golden opportunity - with everyone distracted by the fight that would take place, quietly slip away and follow the trio of people whose elimination would solve everything. If she acted fast, Bela was sure that she could probably even sneak behind them - a knife to the neck for Mia and a pistol round to the head for Fettel, and off she goes in a swarm, leaving the bodyguard scratching his head over the corpses of his charges. An almost perfect plan, with just one drawback. A critical drawback.
Daniela would be left behind to fend for herself.
Visibly exhausted as the redheaded Dimitrescu was, Bela was not sure that she would last ten seconds against the deadly Replica Elite, much less be able to prevail against him. Even Cassandra at her strongest struggled against his kind, after all.
Could she truly abandon her youngest sister to ensure the safety of Mother and Rose? Every second spent in this underground lot could be the deciding factor for their fates.
The crushing responsibility of this fateful choice stole the breath from her lungs; a lesser person would've been utterly crippled by it, to the point of being paralyzed and saving nobody.
Bela Dimitrescu, however, was not a person easily cowed. As if in slow motion, the eldest daughter witnessed the start of the fight, with the Replica Elite rushing Daniela with his shock baton primed and ready to put some hurt on her little sister.
In this millisecond, the decision was made. She could never leave Daniela behind. Not after everything they have been through, together. The decades of both joy and sorrow; the deepest of miseries, as well as the grandest cheer; the unspeakable anguish and the serenity of solace - all shared, hardships and triumphs alike.
The bonds of their sisterhood would not be broken by her - not today, not ever.
Even if this decision would see an unenviable fate befall upon both Rose and Alcina, Bela would be able to live with it, though her heart would forever weep for them. But she would never be able to live with herself, if her cherished little sister met her demise while she was in a position to help.
Bela had made her choice, but her mind still worked on overdrive, coming up with a plan to see this conflict resolved in as efficient a way as possible. The trio of hazmat grunts who had so kindly provided her with a ride here were mere humans, and while she would not be as conceited as to dismiss them as harmless, the Replica Elite had to be dispatched first. Not only could they not afford a prolonged skirmish, but Bela was not actually looking to start a fair fight against an opponent who gave even Cassandra trouble. Not that she ever had any reservations about fighting dirty against these scumbags - when it came to the survival of your family, honor had to take a backseat.
Now, with her plan set in stone, Bela did not waste a further moment. Armed with a sidearm that was looted alongside the hazmat suit, Bela took swift aim, but had to hold her fire, as the Replica was simply too fast, and she knew well that her marksmanship skills were merely adequate, and her ability to score a headshot against a moving target under question. She could not afford to simply waste the priceless element of surprise she currently possessed, with nobody paying her any mind.
Thankfully, an opportunity presented itself soon enough, though Bela cursed her own weakness for allowing even potential harm to befall Daniela - who dodged the first swing of his baton with athletic grace, though the lightning-fast follow up forced the redhead to tumble to the floor - opening her for a finishing blow.
To her horror, Bela realized that the shock baton would connect with Daniela before she could adjust the aim with her pistol - the freak moved that fast. Yet dulling the horror with surprise, the Replica immediately ceased his offense, while grunting in what sounded more akin to annoyance than distress as a barrage of small-caliber rounds struck him centermass.
It was Catherine - with whom Bela herself was only briefly acquainted - who shot at the bastard she was aiming at all this time, with truly remarkable bravery, considering the circumstances.
Even though three (four, as far as Catherine herself was concerned) bloodthirsty killers on the sidelines were just itching to join in on the action, the woman did not hesitate to unload her service weapon upon his frame - in order to protect her monstrous friend and a comrade-in-arms, even if the retaliation for her action would be swift and deadly.
Predictably, the leader of the Bloodfang was quick to take aim at Catherine himself, while scoffing in frustration as the so-called duel was interrupted.
And this was finally the moment Bela was waiting all this time. The Replica Elite was unhurt - the advanced body armor easily stopping the pistol rounds from penetrating, while his enhanced body withstood the kinetic impacts - but momentarily staggered.
A moment is all she needed, and her right hand's finger squeezed the trigger three times, while her left hand slammed her dagger right into the Bloodfang leader's neck.
The rounds struck true - at least some of them - and the Replica promptly collapsed to his knees from the force of bullets striking him right in the head. Evoking a curse from Bela's lips, a number of sparks accompanied the impacts, implying that even his reinforced headgear was able to withstand the low-caliber bullets.
Still, even without penetration, the combined kinetic energy of the rounds was enough to at least temporarily daze the superhuman soldier, and Bela would not waste this opportunity.
Moving with barely human grace, the elder Dimitrescu daughter brutally yanked on her dagger, pulling it out of the leader's neck, with a small fountain of pressurized blood to accompany its departure from his flesh.
In turn, finally wising up to the wolf hiding among their herd, the remaining two Bloodfang let out gasps of distress, even as they attempted to turn around to address the newest threat.
The man to the left of Bela didn't get the chance to as much as say a word or perform any action, since the dagger carved a bloody path across his throat, while the terrorist to her right managed to get out a partial condemnation, "Traito…" before a point-blank pistol round made a neat little hole in his forehead, though his brain was less fortunate, as the fragmented low-velocity round made a bloody mess out of it once the back of the skull proved too tough to get through and fragmented it.
"To betray something, one must have been once loyal to it in the first place."
Bela would lie if she claimed that certain parts of her did not feel a modicum of satisfaction as the trio of scumbags collapsed more or less simultaneously. The vicious side of her was happy that these terrorist bastards got what they deserved; the meticulous side praised her for the flawless execution, while a certain, often-suppressed, badass side cheered her one-liner.
Of course, there was no time to admire her handiwork, as the Replica Elite had already recovered. Seeing the most immediate threat in Catherine - who, despite the shock of witnessing Bela's actions, still frantically attempted to reload her sidearm - the brutal supersoldier hurled his shock baton her way. The melee weapon, thrown with remarkable precision and strength, struck its intended target right in the stomach with its energized tip, causing Catherine to double over in pain from the sheer power behind the impact. The electricity that soon coursed through her, however, inflicted even more damage upon her battered frame. Ravaged by uncaring energy, Catherine tumbled to the floor like a bag of rocks, though even downed, her form continued to twitch for several more seconds, while thin lines of blackish smoke lazily trickled up from her. Clearly, that shock baton was not a non-lethal kind.
Naturally, Bela did not merely observe it while twiddling her thumbs. Even as Catherine went down, the elder daughter lined up another shot, while noting the crawling form of Daniela, reaching for a discarded battle rifle. Bela's pistol might have been insufficient to penetrate the Replica's advanced armor, but that heavy rifle looked like it could do the trick - all the elder sister had to do was buy time.
'Click'
To her horror, all the looted gun in her hands did was click empty once she squeezed its trigger for the fourth time.
What!? What kind of a moron loads his pistol with only four rounds? And damn me for not checking it beforehand!
Seemingly aware of both Bela's conundrum to his right and Daniela's attempt at arming up to his left, the Replica did not hesitate to go for the obvious target.
Standing up within a single heartbeat, the supersoldier proceeded to make his way towards the downed redhead, only to deliver a bone-crushing kick against her side. The devastating attack saw Daniela launched into a vicious roll that ended with her body smashing against the bulky device in the middle of the parking lot. Letting out a pained whimper that Bela would not be able to forget, Daniela did not attempt to stand up again.
In turn, Bela felt her black blood boiling in her veins at the sight of her sweetheart sister being subjected to such savage treatment. Even though Bela scorned Cassandra's cruel ways, for this motherless cur, she would make an exception.
"I'll make you pay for that."
The cold rage that permeated every spoken syllable would've made even a hardened human fighter take a momentary pause to possibly reassess his life choices that led him to this moment.
Instead, the Replica merely let out a sound akin to a derisive snort and in that same instance of time, turned around and in a motion that appeared blurry even to Bela's keen eyes, unholster his submachine gun, and filled the elder Dimitrescu daughter full of lead.
Or well, that was his intent, at least.
Energized by her hatred for this vile man, Bela's chimeric body had no issue in avoiding the damage by morphing her vulnerable human flesh into a buzzing swarm of flies - right inside her hazmat suit. The myriad of bullets sent her way went through the fabric of the suit; the preternaturally aware bugs arranging themselves in such a way to minimize the damage from the projectiles, though a number of them perished, nevertheless. Regardless, it was the vehicle behind Bela that ended up being filled with lead and not their intended target.
Undaunted by loss of her swarm members, the vampire proceeded to discard the worthless sidearm, then tore her hazmat suit open with her own two hands. Half-swarm, half-human and no longer restricted by the bulky protective wear, Bela was ready to go all out against the brute who had dared to lay his hands upon their youngest. To aid her in that task, ever keen for details, her eyes were swift to take note of all the weaponry strewn about the parking lot - that resembled a battlefield more than anything else. A 40mm grenade launcher, in particular, looked like a proper way to fully express the price for laying a hand upon a lady from House Dimitrescu.
Still, she would not underestimate this opponent and go about executing her bloody plan openly. Concealing her left arm behind her back, Bela awaited her enemy's next move, even as her hidden limb sneakingly converted whole into the swarming mass of insects - who then proceeded to trail down her body and inconspicuously disperse, only to go about collecting their prize - out of sight, but not out of mind.
Meanwhile, the Replica recognized Bela as the bug mutant the moment she tore free of her stolen hazmat suit, and likewise, adjusted his tactics to fit the situation. Twirling his submachine gun back into its belt-mounted holster, the masked goon charged right at the blonde, fist raised in obvious intent. Perhaps too obvious.
In turn, raising a single eyebrow at the peculiar attack, Bela was prepared to dodge it, but what she wasn't prepared for was a sonic grenade the Replica procured from one of his many vest pockets during his charge. The moment his rushing strike predictably - for both of them - failed, the Elite smashed the orb-like device against the floor underneath them.
With the blonde unable to avoid it, the ultrasonic wave washed against Bela like a tsunami would over some coastal town - crippling her with its piercing noise. Disoriented by the exotic weapon, every single detached insect had no choice but to instinctively return to meld back with her flesh.
Momentarily paralyzed, the blonde couldn't help herself but fall onto her knees, while feebly clutching at her ears, and the Elite did not waste a second. Roughly grabbing the stunned woman by her hair, he proceeded to unceremoniously drag her all the way underneath the still-leaking pipe, causing her whole body to become dripping wet.
"You stupid bitch. Did you honestly think we would come unprepared for your filthy kind?"
Still dazed, but recovering swiftly, Bela could barely decipher his mocking words through the ringing in her ears. In turn, the Replica continued to drag her, now to what appeared to be an unremarkable wall, gloating all the while.
"After your little stunt in France, we have learned all there is to know about you. All your strengths - such as they are… and all your many, many weaknesses."
Almost ready to assume her swarm form and break free from his hold, Bela could only gasp in fright as the Replica slammed his fist right through the wall, showcasing his own unnatural power. But what truly horrified her, was the fact that this location was clearly chosen for a specific purpose, as a stream of cold steam rushed right through the hole.
"You weak, pathetic, bug."
The Replica held her tight by the nape of her neck, as the chilling current washed all over her soaked body, freezing the liquid. Having almost fully recovered from the incapacitating effects of the sonic grenade, Bela still could not transform, try as she might - not with the frozen water clinging to majority of her body and locking her form to that of a human.
"You've provided as much of a challenge as I expected - which is not much at all."
Reversing his grip on her, the masked freak held Bela in a crushing grasp around her neck with his left hand. Clearly, the supersoldier savored this moment, as he then proceeded to lift her up against the wall, with his right hand raising for what was likely going to be the killing blow.
"Splattering you across the wall will be my pleasure, nevertheless."
Not one to go quietly into the night, the woman snarled and kicked at the freak, while fruitlessly attempting to dislodge his grip on her. A single well-placed kick from her should've been capable of shattering a human bone, yet the Replica merely grunted in annoyance. Likewise, try as she might, his bone-crushing grip would not budge - not with Bela only having her right arm attached to her body, at the moment. With her form locked onto its human shape by the frozen liquid, that very well could've been the end of Bela Dimitrescu, if not for her little contingency plan.
For whatever reason, the Replica refused to break eye contact with her, and therefore he failed to note, or failed to care about her conspicuously missing arm. In a way, he reminded Bela of Cassandra - during her darkest, most sadistic episodes, when even the clarity of mind would give way to the primal desire of blind dominance.
"What, no last words? No pleas for mercy?"
Bela only smirked in response, as her own surprise for this bastard was just about ready to be delivered.
Bored with her silence and seemingly about to demolish her head with his fist, the Replica didn't get the chance to do so.
Perhaps not the intended use of such a device, but it works just fine as the blunt force instrument - so the inconspicuous swarm of bugs that collected it earlier and now struggled to keep it afloat right over his head, let their burden drop.
While a relatively compact and lightweight weapon for the amount of damage it can inflict upon the battlefield, a loaded M32 grenade launcher is not something that one would want to fall down upon their head. Not even a gene-enhanced Replica.
To Bela's immense satisfaction, the brute that was about to end her existence stumbled a step back, clearly dazed from the impact produced by a 6kg weapon colliding with his head from a height of 5 meters. Perhaps, given his unnatural origins, he could recover even from that fast enough, given an opportunity - which Bela would not grant him.
The swarm that made up her left arm returned to reconstitute her missing limb swiftly. Meanwhile, the woman herself did not hesitate to once again employ her loyal dagger, which she previously concealed in her pants' pocket. With the man being dazed by the staggering impact and Bela's mold-enhanced strength, it was a child's play to plunge the Dimitrescu family dagger right through his headgear's reinforced lens.
The noise of shattering glass was immediately followed by a scream of pain, perking that sadistic part of Bela up. Finally, this worthless bastard is screaming!
Still, she would not relent in her assault - no opportunity to recover could be given, as this foe has proven himself dangerous beyond what she had initially expected. Employing her newfound leverage, the agile bug-woman pressed her back against the wall, while both of her feet found themselves slamming against the freak's armored chest, simultaneously pushing him away from her.
Dazed and disoriented as the Replica was, the blow was powerful enough to send him tumbling to the floor quite some distance away from the vampire; Bela herself landed on her rear, with the fallen grenade launcher helpfully lying right next to her. Shifting her gaze from her foe to the weapon and back, Bela's next course of action was set in stone.
Once again showcasing his unnatural resilience, the Elite was already trying to crawl towards her, with his mask's remaining malefic orange eye lens burning with what Bela could only interpret as the desire to eviscerate her.
Not thinking twice and just hoping that she was far enough to not be severely damaged by the explosive charge, the blonde Dimitrescu proceeded to swiftly grab the launcher and - not wasting any time on gloating or mockery - launched the 40mm projectile.
The satisfying 'thunk' was succeeded by a deafening 'boom' - the grenade struck the bastard who had dared to harm Daniela right in his head, though Bela's current concern lay elsewhere.
In a bid to avoid the damage to her own person, Bela curled into a ball with both her legs and hands protecting the vitals from the incoming shrapnel. Nevertheless, the scorching heatwave and the crushing shockwave made her internally curse for shooting the damn thing in such a close proximity, yet she could live with some extra burn marks and penetrating shrapnel wounds.
Let's see how you'll live without your head, you scum.
He didn't. The mutilated corpse of her enemy - missing its head and a large chunk of its torso, collapsed into a gory heap.
Taking only a moment to admire her kill and wishing earnestly for that bastard to burn in hell forever, Bela quickly got up to her feet and did not hesitate to rush to Daniela' side.
Ignoring the pain from her own numerous injuries and sensing the layer of hoarfrost covering her frame having dissipated - probably from the heat of the explosion - Bela made her way across the bloodsoaked parking lot. Her heart bled at the sorry sight of her beloved younger sister - almost unrecognizable under all the layers of grime and viscera covering her.
Oh, Dani… again, I have failed you.
Inspecting the girl for signs of life, Bela let out a sigh of relief, since they were present and stable, if a bit weak. With tenderness born out of true love, Bela brushed Daniela's bloodied mane of hair out of her face and gently kissed her younger sister's forehead.
Daniela would live, though the combination of exhaustion and injuries would likely see her remain incapacitated for the rest of this bloody conflict.
You've done enough…
More than either Bela or Cassandra ever gave her credit for, even - the elder daughter had to admit, as she finally took a chance to truly take in the devastation that visited this underground parking lot.
Mutilated corpses were strewn all over the place - a few of them were put into their namesake deceased state by Bela herself, but most of them met their ultimate fate at Daniela's hands.
By Bela's quick headcount, there were around twenty bodies - in various states of dismemberment. The vast majority of them were the black-clad terrorists, though a small number of deceased FBI personnel implied that the fight that took place before Bela's arrival was not quite as one-sided.
But even beyond the many dead littering the lot, there was a lot of environmental damage that confirmed the vicious fighting that took place here. Spent ammunition casings all over the pavement; bullet holes decorating seemingly every wall, pillar and vehicle; discarded weapons and abandoned equipment; ruined infrastructure - leaking pipes, blowing steam, electrical fires from broken fuse boxes, damaged lightning.
The more exotic damage - a charred husk of a car, still partially on fire; a peculiar pile of ash surrounding a blackened skeleton - was also not lost on Bela, though she did not quite have the time needed to properly analyze it, merely note it to go over later - perhaps after all this mess was truly over and done with, with a cup of hot cocoa and her favorite man-thing by her side…
Regardless, the parking lot now appeared as if straight from some action movie and Bela was not looking forward to just leaving unconscious Daniela lying on its blood-soaked pavement. What if more hostile humans show up and stumble upon her defenseless body? Recalling the sexual deviant that had attempted to have his way with her earlier, Bela could not suppress a shudder.
The blonde daughter gazed towards the stairway hall, knowing well that time was against her and her misgivings, while reasonable, could not justify any further delay. Her cherished sister was safe - as safe as one could be, under the circumstances - but her mother and Rose were under imminent threat.
Resolved to keep going, Bela did the best she could for her younger sibling, and lifted her incapacitated body - only to swiftly move her into a corner of the parking lot that was obscured from view by several black sedans. A small thing, but it could mean the difference between life and death, were any friends of the deceases terrorists come poking around while Bela was handling her business upstairs.
Gently lowering her sister onto the unfortunately cold pavement, Bela did not miss the way Daniela's eyelids opened so very slightly, or how Daniela's lips let out a couple of words - so very weakly.
"You came for me, sister…"
"Of course I did, sweetheart. I will always come for you." Bela placed another tender kiss on Daniela's forehead, "You've done enough, Dani. Rest now."
Too weak to do anything but that, Daniela merely let out a tired, "Mhm…" before closing her eyes again.
Her precious sister was alive and well, and that's all Bela needed to keep going. One final confrontation awaited her, so the blonde Dimitrescu would not keep it waiting any longer.
Despite going through quite the ordeal in her fight with the Replica, Bela sensed every muscle in her body taut and ready; plenty of mold-rich blood still coursing in her veins. Moving with brisk steps, the elder daughter crossed the distance to the stairway hall in mere moments, though she did not forget to pick up the most impressive-looking gun that happened to be in her path. A battle rifle - firing the full-powered rifle rounds - a good option when facing opponents in heavy body armor. With her sickle left behind when she took on the guise of the hazmat-clad terrorist and her loyal dagger destroyed by the blast, this human weapon was a welcome addition on her quest to protect her family.
Not stopping, Bela made sure to properly check her chosen armament this time, and to her satisfaction found the magazine half-full and the weapon in working condition with a single test firing.
Now armed and feeling particularly dangerous, Bela was ready to confront Mia and Fettel, but before she could finally vacate the blood-soaked parking lot, a peculiar feeling made the keen vampire stop dead in her tracks.
All the remaining lights suddenly started flickering erratically, causing her heart to skip a beat. An eerily chill washed over her frame, causing goosebumps to appear all over her skin. Turning around, Bela had to suppress a gasp as she spotted a young girl in a red dress, standing right over the corner where she had left Daniela. Even though the girl looked similar to Eveline, the blonde immediately knew that she was most definitely not Eveline - Bela was not even sure how she knew that, but the certainty of that fact left no room for doubts in her mind.
The girl stared at the place where Daniela rested, but there was no hostility or tension in her frame; Bela could not see beyond the long locks of black hair that obscured her eyes, but she could sense sadness emanating from her.
Blinking her eyes in shock, Bela was terrified to behold a naked, emaciated woman standing right where the girl in the red dress used to be. Just like the girl, however, the woman also had a long mane of face-obscuring black hair. But the incredulity did not end there.
Unbelievably, every single corpse sprang to life, standing up to stare in either Bela's or Daniela's direction - based upon which of the sisters took that particular life - Bela was swift to realize. The holes where their eyes used to be burned with the desire for vengeance. Under their scrutiny, the blonde woman found herself paralyzed completely, utterly at the mercy of this phantasmagoria.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity to flash-frozen and terrified out of her mind Bela, but in reality lasted a mere second, the naked woman turned her head in the blonde's direction. For an insignificantly short moment, Bela could swear that she saw a bloodshot red eye, peering at her inquisitively, but before she could take a closer look herself, every single light in the parking lot had flickered off - engulfing the whole underground area in bone-chilling darkness, with only stray fires providing some minor illumination. The corner with Daniela and the girl/woman was taken by total, overwhelming darkness, unnatural in its intensity - as if the void itself came to claim a piece of this world. The silence was absolute, but not for long.
A single feminine sob pierced the veil of darkness, putting every hair on Bela's body on edge. On their own volition, her hands clutched tightly around her looted battle rifle, even though her mind found the notion that the weapon in question could help in her current situation laughable.
Suddenly, the lights flickered back on and the malefic chill dissipated just like that - in an instant. Neither the girl in a red dress nor the naked woman was present anymore. Every single corpse returned to its rightful place - dead as it gets. There was nobody else but Bela still standing in the whole parking lot, lending the blonde an impression that everything that happened in the last several seconds was but an insane hallucination of her frenetic, overworked mind.
Letting out a calming breath, Bela shook her head in a feeble attempt to clear it from the ghastly visage.
Just a hallucination…? Whatever, I need to save Mother and Rose!
Finally turning around, the blonde crossed the threshold that separated the underground parking lot from the rest of the building and marched to confront those that sought to harm her family.
Just like she expected, more corpses were there to greet her. All over the stairway, recently deceased FBI and B.S.A.A. agents were strewn about. All of them were gunned down by conventional firearms, implying that Fettel's bodyguard did his job in clearing a path well enough. Lightly armed as they were, they never stood a chance against the juggernaut.
Counting five men and two women just from the short trek towards the reception area, Bela had to grit her teeth to suppress her own fright. Contrary to what some thought, she was not fearless and charging right into such a potent adversary was not something she did lightly, especially considering the paranormal experience she had just lived through. But with Alcina and Rose fates on the line, fear gave way to grim determination quick enough. She will suffer her nightmares after this was all done and over with - not before.
But what greeted her in the small reception area gave even the resolute daughter a pause. Five more corpses. Two gunned down in a manner not dissimilar to the previous ones, but three others?
Were she not hardened by decades of brutality and bloodshed, Bela was sure she would vomit right here and now, as she gazed upon the headless husks. The elder daughter had absolutely no idea what kind of a wicked weapon could inflict damage like this - and she did not want to know, though she realized quick enough that she would get to know it, regardless. It appeared that the victim's craniums popped open from some kind of an immense force rushing out from within. Like mashed overripe pumpkins, the ruined heads splattered gore and brain-matter all over and around their deceased owners, painting quite a visceral picture. Finally, unlike the other corpses, those with their heads popped still clutched to their pistols, implying that the moment that led to their demise saw their entire nervous systems locked.
Making her way through the gory mess of a reception area, Bela found herself grateful that at least she still had the heavy-duty boots on. Still, the squelching sound was quite grating on her ears and the sticky wetness was less than pleasant to wade through. Overcoming the discomfort, the blonde was quick to cover this blood-soaked area, only to discover the elevator disabled - with its panel destroyed by gunfire. Whether intentional or accidental, the stairway was the only way up, which was somewhat encouraging to Bela. Ascending the dilapidated stairway all the way to the sixth floor would take a bit of time for the party of humans, but for her? - it would take no time at all - allowing her a glimpse of hope of catching up with Mia and her cohorts before they reach their destination.
Taking on her partial swarm shape, Bela flew all the way up. Gracefully and flowingly making her way through the separate segments of the stairway, she was not deaf to the noises of gunfire and resonating screams, coming from all around. The FBI and B.S.A.A. personnel were still putting up a fight, though it was clear that the Bloodfang terrorists were pushing hard and it was a big question mark in Bela's head, whether the remaining reserve force present in the building would be able to fight them off - Fettel and his superhuman bodyguard aside, even.
One thing at a time…
Soon, her once again solid feet touched upon the moth-eaten carpet of the sixth floor and in that same instant, her keen eyes caught the sight of her quarry. The honey-brown hair of Mia Winters; the tiny shape of the innocent kid roped into this mess; the tall silhouette of Fettel and the bulky, armored frame of his powerful bodyguard - all making their own way towards the apartment#601 - the two of the Duke's men who stood guard over Alcina's safety for the last three days - already lying in pools of their own blood. These were two good, loyal and honest men and Bela gritted her teeth in rage.
The desire to inflict dread retribution for all this slaughter started to outweigh her protective side, as she brought her gun up. They were at the other side of the hallway, seemingly unaware of Bela, with the bodyguard kicking the apartment's door in. She was just in time.
Originally she had planned to dispose of Mia and Fettel, but with them being literally outside Mother's door, she could not let this bodyguard roam free, not after witnessing his kind's capacity for destruction. Therefore, Bela did not think twice about aiming right at his armored head, though, before she could squeeze the trigger, Fettel started speaking in a particularly annoyed tone, loud enough to imply that he was addressing Bela, even though he should've had no way of seeing her from his current orientation.
"Another fl—"
Bela had no interest in hearing his self-important speeches. Not after witnessing a ghastly spectacle and wading through a sea of blood. Filled with near delirious rage, Bela took a millisecond to adjust her aim and let loose.
Shockingly, like clockwork, the bodyguard swirled around to face her, while rushing to stand in between his charge and her battle rifle - showcasing some truly inhuman reflexes and speed.
Still, 7.62×51mm rifle cartridges were remarkably more powerful than 9mm pistol rounds and therefore, Bela was satisfied to note that even his advanced armor failed to fully protect the Replica. Some rounds were deflected by metal plates; some were partially stopped by the thick kevlar in between, but a couple of bullets soon tasted his flesh after finding the weak spots.
Grunting in pain, the enhanced freak still found enough strength to return fire with his submachine gun. Nevertheless, all his bullets did was harmlessly pass through her intangible shape and Bela only stopped firing once her magazine was completely exhausted.
Author's note:
A bit of a cliffhanger here, haha (and here I thought I'd try and avoid them... ugh, shame on me!) Sorry for that.
I admit that the latest chapters are really complex to write, though not from lack of inspiration or desire. I actually wanted to finish this chapter like 4 days ago, but adding my suddenly fucked-up sleeping patterns that keep me perpetually tired to the aforementioned complexity resulted in this annoying delay.
Anyway, next chapter we will finally have the much-awaited Mia/Bela confrontation, though the kid (Haru - who was made from Alcina's biomass by Mia) will also play a part.
To give myself a small break from complexity and to also reassure Hello Neighbor enjoyers that I have not abandoned that story, I will be posting an update to it next, though immediately after I will get back to working on Sins.
As always, thanks to everyone who is reading/reviewing/liking the story and I hope you all have a great week! Stay safe out there! :)