Disclaimer: I do not own any Resident Evil characters or Resident Evil terms but I do own anything else that is original, Kronos virus, everything about the project and much more coming in the next chps.
Chapter Six: The Start to The End
To be brave, by definition, one has first to be afraid. ~ Robert Harris
31 May 2006, 11:10 A.M.
Level B, Theseus Research Facility
Two hours ago…
The halls of Level B were unusually more packed than usual. Most of the staff would have been at the lower levels, working. However, for some reason, the atmosphere was a little more cheery. That was laughable. For some, including himself, he couldn't help but feel anxious.
Nothing to be happy about that K-virus being nearly completed. And a lot more things waddling in his mind...
Still he kept a straight face. If the Doc saw him mope again, he'd never hear the end of it.
His hearing, sensitive even to the most annoying dripping from the guys' bathroom on the same floor, picked up familiar voices as he neared the cafeteria. He also greatly smelled the hint of rich pastry. All he was told was to visit there once he got back to the facility. That damn Texan didn't give a reason and just walked off causally last night. Sheez!
He could have sworn he saw someone peep out from the cafeteria's entrance and duck back in, the whispers hushing everyone to be quiet.
Okkkk, that was weird.
He stepped in.
Darkness. But behind the green-tinted contact lens, his more inhuman eyes could detect the standing forms near the rows of tables and chairs. Breathing. Shining out heat.
Light suddenly flashed. His eyes squinted tenderly as he tried to readjust his vision.
POP! POP!
Nerves twitched and his heart leapt into his throat as the confetti rained down on him. If he hadn't had his control in order, he'd probably impulsively explode into his tyrant form because his monster side thought of them as shots. Instead, the redhead simply stood still and prepared for whatever was to come like it was any training routine.
Instead, no BOWs or HCF ordered to fight him. Or the occasionally-surprised martial art drill from Kent.
Just claps and smiles from the only team of scientists that had been babysitting him since his awakening.
Well, that was a stupid thing to say. It wasn't so much of babysitting. Out of the ten people in lab coats, two were pretty much his handlers but they gave him the freedom to do whatever he wanted. It was more of...looking out for the mutated kid whenever he got into trouble. Yeah, sounded about right.
"I think we shouldn't have used poppers," Katherine snickered.
"Naaaah. He's just stunned that there's cake for lunch."
He glanced up. In middle of the big eating hall, the familiar faces stood around a table of delicious food. Above was a party banner that read, "Goodbye! We'll Miss You!"
Out of the white-clothed group, one stepped forward with that wide smile and folded arms.
"What?" Iria uttered. "You think we wouldn't throw you a goodbye party?"
Steve couldn't help but crack a smile at the Doc.
Out of the blues, he was grabbed by the shoulders. A gray-haired man, between pudgy and partly muscular – if possible, Terry Davis would have been mistaken as a bear wearing a lab coat – burst out laughing and harshly rustled his hair.
"We got you good this time, kiddo!"
"H-Hey! Cut it out!" Steve quickly weaseled out from the bulky hands that one would expect to easily crush test tubes in his line of work.
"Go easy on him for today, Terry." Another man stood out, one with a short and stout build, and curly brown hair. Samson O'Leary heaved out a sigh. "Can't believe you'll be leaving us."
"It's not really like I want to. And, you sure you should be doing this for me?" He managed to utter.
Giving a farewell party to a specimen – anyone who first heard that would deem the group as mad, despite them holding degrees and PhDs. Heck, it was a little strange to him.
He was no longer a human in actual fact.
Another man, the only one who stood out with a pair of spongy-ended headphones connected to an old Walkman in his pocket, chuckled. "If it bothers you that bad, how about looking at this as a break for us hardworking folks instead?"
"Hardworking? Hmph," Victor scoffed with folded arms. "All you've been doing the whole day is listen to that punk junk."
Zach Torres scorned at the tall toothpick-biting man. "You can never appreciate the finer touch of 80s' music."
"I don't know. Feels kinda, you know, awkward I'm just getting a party."
"What's there to be awkward about?" Yves Loisel, the quietest among the older adults, was already passing around the plates of cakes – one handed over to Steve. "We've heard from Iria you celebrated your birthday with her kids, right? How is this any different?"
Steve chocked out of embarrassment. He would never be let down about that one day. "Well, having one inside a facility that's keeping a virus doesn't actually sound like the best bash location to me."
"Eh, touché." He simply shrugged his shoulders. "What can you do about it? And I don't want us to be wasting this cake. You know how late Christian stayed up last night to make it?"
Steve beamed lightly. "Tell him I said thanks."
"Like always."
"Ah well. I bet you'll be happy to have us out of your hair." With tanned olive skin and overgrown hair that he simply tied it up in a ponytail instead of taking one measly hour to have a haircut, an average built man stood forth.
"Ah, c'mon. Don't say it like that. Of course, I'm going to miss you all," Steve muttered meekly.
Jose Sanchez still held his smile out but raised an eyebrow. "Oh ready? If it was me, I'd be pissed about all the probing, the tests and the treatment down here."
Steve shrugged his shoulders. "I mean it. I'll miss you all."
"Even GAIAN?"
"Ha! I am not going to miss her one bit." Steve then wearily darted his eyes about like a frightened hawk arching its neck around. Saying that sentence just felt like it would bite him in the ass.
This little scare drew out chuckles from the Mexican man. "I guess that's one good point to look forward to."
"Of course! How many warning shots have I gone through? That thing is a fucking creepy socio stalker!"
"Hear that, Iria?" Jose uttered. "I told you that machine has a mind of its own!"
"And you have been saying that non-stop, Jose."
It was then that Steve noticed something amiss within the party.
He counted. There were only nine today.
"Where's Kailey?"
"Doing some last-minute work," the strong Texan accent voiced out from behind them. "Just so you know, Kail wanted to be here."
Approaching them with two full plates in one hand was a man many would never expect to be a scientist, especially with the tone he spoke out. A redneck with blond-gray hair that had stumped many to reconsider their decision to pick on stereotypes. Well, that wouldn't stop Harris Cooper from throwing a punch.
"Don't want her to be left out." Harris then snorted. "Feels like only yesterday you were a nuisance."
"Is that a compliment or an insult?"
"Take it however, you want, boy. We'll all going to miss you."
"You guys, yes. Absolutely everyone? Doubtful. Bet they're just glad they won't have to walk these halls with me around."
Harris just shrugged. "Thought you didn't care about them."
"Hmph, if they keep calling me 'Specimen 0267', of course I'd ignore them."
"Blame procedure, kiddo. I've been saying that for the longest time," Iria said. "I'm just glad we managed to make this party without Odell or anyone screaming "you're breaking protocol" nonsense. We want this last moment for you the best, Steve."
Steve gave a quiet, grateful smile and glanced back up to the banner, stretching the smile a little wider.
It was odd too – having a moment he expected to be non-existent. It was his last day on this island. Ironically and probably it'd be his last 'normal' day.
Had he never died in the past, perhaps he would be in a party like this one, but a sad one. Steve had no such goals in the past before his fall, expecting one day to land in a stinky desk job.
Well, there had been one... It was a childhood dream that somehow got revived back some months ago.
"Speakin' of which, a better time now to give you this." The Texan pulled something small out something small from his pocket with his free hand and practically forced it right into Steve's hands without giving him a chance to decline.
A pair of keys. One being the kind to open up a huge warehouse or storage and the other to some vehicle.
"What's this to?"
"The keys to my Skyhawk."
Eyes flashed wide at Harris. Did he hear it right?
"Seriously! ?"
Harris smirked at the enthusiasm on the young man's face. "Yup. Had it since '96. 'Course that plane's still back home in Texas. Hasn't left storage. Rent and maintenance is still being paid even to this day. Should be in good condition, with some tweakin' needed. Probably a good clean and oil change. Reckon it'd be of better use for you than for letting it rot there."
"I'm surprised you bought a plane, Harris," Jose droned. "Have you even flown it?"
"Twice when me and my folks returned back home. Before HELIX pulled that whole island containment rule though. But to this day, flyin' that plane is a beaut."
"Did you have some sort of midlife crisis or something? Geez."
He couldn't believe his ears, his eyes still fixated on the keys like precious silver. Steve Burnside, at the age of twenty-five – mentally twenty-three by Iria's calculations but he didn't care – was getting an aircraft of his own.
Then he frowned disappointedly.
Harris furrowed one eyebrow. "What?"
"Nothing. I'm grateful for the gift. I really am. I can't believe you'd even give me this, Harris. Just...don't take it the wrong way but..." Steve frowned, unimpressed. "This model sucks."
Iria sighed softly. Oh boy, here we go again.
Harris glowered. "Excuse me, boy. You must have cotton stuffed in your ears. This is a Cessna 172 Skyhawk."
"A Cessna 172R. A 172S is a far better choice than an antique."
"172-! ? That toy ain't even much different other than that new leather smell and its racket of an engine!"
"How would you know? You haven't left the island to even try that model! And for your information, 172S has a better performance than that tin can!"
At this point, Iria closed off her mind. She could never understand this kind of talk. She wasn't much of a car, or in this case, a plane person to begin with. With the two droning on about what was good and what wasn't, Iria couldn't help but lose the conversation easily. To this day, she could never really comprehend their constant arguing whenever the topic was about aircrafts.
Also, weren't they fighting over two planes that were one letter apart?
"Alright, fine." Harris drew out his open palm as he grunted. "If you ain't gonna appreciate my gift, then give it back."
"No." Steve held back the keys. Like hell was he ditching away a plane, even if that was the one of the worst models in his book ever. "You gave it to me. It's mine now."
And that literally took the cake. Jose burst out laughing, hunching down at the immaturity between two grown men. Iria just shook her head. Kailey had always muttered that it had to be a guy thing.
"Fine. Keep the damn keys. Do what you like with Bolt." With that, Harris skidded off on the balls of his feet angrily. "Ungrateful, little-"
"Hey, Harris!"
The Texan turned, still with a scorned look.
"Thanks for the gift!"
Harris shook his head but this time with a plaguing smirk. He waved out his hand, a sign of goodbye and no hard feelings taken, before he walked out of the cafeteria.
Slowly, the group dispersed a little apart – some taking to conversations of their own. Only Iria and Steve paired together at a table, eating their cake.
Well, Iria did. He hadn't touched his yet, despite how tempting the richness was.
The normality was still somewhat strange to him.
He knew full well he was a specimen. A monster. A freak.
And yet, in just two years, he walked around – a monster in human skin... The sound of that had never made him feel good about himself.
"If you're still feeling uncomfortable, just take Zach's word over it. It's been a long time since we've had a party like this."
Steve chuckled. "I'm just shocked you know how to have a good time."
Iria grumbled, but not out of distaste. "Hey, I'll have you know I can make a mean tapas party than those loud 'hip-hop' club dances. Don't paint me as one of those old folks who play bingo every Saturday."
He snickered. Though, frankly, he was a little curious about what a 'tapas' party was like, especially under Iria's supervision. The mixed cultures Iria always expressed keenly were one of the things he was going to miss.
The laugh died softly in him, as reality brought him back down.
Yeah... He was leaving.
"Come now. Lighten up. You'll be getting of this god-forsaken island for good."
Slowly, his stiff smile broke further apart.
One side, it was a god-forsaken island. The hostility still hid in the air not just for him but for everyone and in plain sight. Worst part was only a handful saw the truth – the rest was oblivious about that fact and that was for their sake.
They were all prisoners. Just like he had been back in Rockfort island and was now on Cape Inacio.
And then there was the other side.
The happy townsfolk living in bliss. Outside the walls, he saw it all in every color and emotion for more than a year. The community was tight, happy, and interracial. And it was better that way.
Steve couldn't imagine what would happen if they'd found out they were being held as hostages over the staff of the research facility. Probably panic but he was more frightened of the aftermath.
After all, there were the watchful eyes of Wesker and his dogs...
"You said your goodbyes with everyone?"
He snapped out of his cluster of thoughts, turning to Iria. Ah, nuts. She was concerned. But he couldn't hide it.
He nodded.
"How did Randy and Hannah take to the news?"
Steve deeply sighed. Oh, were those two different stories. He had never felt so miserable...
"I think I felt my heart get crushed when I told Randy. You should have seen his face, Doc. He tried to hide it, saying he was happy that I got 'promoted'." Steve emphasized the word with a twitch of two fingers in each hand, one still clutching his plate. "...He was so looking forward for us to play that new fighting game..."
Iria softly smiled. She understood, having her shares of seeing that saddened face just forgiving his aunt for missing many important days. That all the more just dug deeper into her guilt.
"And Hannah?"
Steve groaned. Loud. And hunched down. "She did not take it well." He instantly rose up. "I thought she was going to punch me too!"
"Punch you? I doubt it. If it was me, she'd just slam the door on my face."
"Not helping, Doc... I didn't get to say goodbye to her properly. She just left without a word." Another groan. "I don't feel right just leaving like this..."
"Don't worry too much. They won't hold a grudge against you. You know those two just as much as I do."
"Maybe... I don't know. Hannah's already pissed at me." He stared at her with uncertainty.
The one thing Iria was grateful the most for the kiddo was the fact he became close to her family in her place outside the walls. It has been a more year since she had ever stepped out of the facility.
Sure, she kept tags. Her colleagues and of course, Kiddo, did all they could do for her niece and nephew in her absence. She was their guardian, for Pete's sake. If child service was on this island, they would have taken the kids away. Frankly, she admitted to herself that would have been better - not out of spite but for their own safety from this rotten place.
It wasn't that she was cruel. She wasn't. They were her sister's children and she loved them so much.
Just...circumstances in the past made it difficult that she was forced to stay inside the facility, whether she liked it or not. And it didn't matter the rare cabin fever moments too.
But from the stories she listened eagerly from Steve, the one year, two months and three weeks the three kids have spent together were absolutely eventful.
"How about this? I'll go talk to her."
As quick as lighting, she was given a face that asked "Are you sure you want to do that?" Iria shrugged, knowing full well she'd be defeated.
"Ok, so I'm not in the best position but she is my niece. I'll talk to her."
Steve relaxed. Just a bit. But that still didn't wash away the regret. He was particularly like family to the kids so telling them he was leaving still felt more like a cut in their ties.
Truly, he wished he wasn't being transferred to some unknown location in Africa...
"...You know, I can always just not go. Tell Wesker to screw off. Could always act like a delinquent freak that they'll have to keep me here."
The scientist shook her head. She disapproved. "We've talked about it, Kiddo. You got this chance and there's no way you're giving it up because of us. You'll be free. And you'll be able to meet this Claire too."
Claire.
The name rang softly in his head as he stared at the tiled floor beneath him.
Strange. It was brief but Iria noted it. He did nothing but it was the 'nothingness' the perked her attention. This was his sweetheart. The mere mentioning of her name used to send the young lad into an adorable fit of awkwardness.
Of course, if she had said "sweetheart" out loud, the kiddo would surely glare at her, flushed in the cheeks, yelling, "Come on, Doc! Stop joking around!"
Still, Iria continued.
"All you need to do is find a weak spot in whatever prison they're gonna hold you in, break out, get to the nearest airport and fly to America."
"Heh. Easier said than done."
"You'll do fine. She's in TerraSave, right? I don't know. Cause havoc in your other form and they'll be coming after you."
"Yeaaah, and Wesker wouldn't find me that easy at all... Besides...I don't really want to show her...'this'." He spread out his arms on himself.
"Oh, you're beating yourself around the bush. Don't you know it's the personality women like over looks?"
"So my good looks and award-winning smile aren't going to cut it?" Steve smirked.
"Heel boy. Heel."
She scooped up another piece of the cake.
"...It's not fair."
The spoon hung in the air as she glanced back. Now, Steve's face was more downcast than before.
"That I'm leaving and you all are still struck here."
The air between them stiffened. Again, another conflicting feeling of repentance all for being the luckiest resident to finally be off this terrible place. But Iria understood.
How ironic for the kiddo to just brighten things up for them and outside. For a kid who relied on himself, he has made connections since his awakening. And out of those connections, it was an equivalent exchange: he was human while his interactions with others were meaningful.
Every time she spent with the kiddo, she felt she was closer to being normal again. Not the doctor, Frankenstein, who created an abomination as equally destructive as the Kronos virus.
This was where Iria would have grabbed the nearest thick folder and hit him on the head. Snap him out of his rout. Stop thinking too much about the consequences and the burdens.
These burdens were the islanders' to keep, not to add on his. It wasn't his decision to bring family to the same island where horrors slept below the waves. His hands on crafting bit by bit on that tiny but deadly organism.
Iria never wanted the kiddo to share the pain. This was her chains to carry.
So she lightly slapped him on the head with her hand.
He glanced up, stunned by the light whack. The gentle smile from the woman more than a decade older than him just easily reassured him.
She was after all, one tough cookie.
"You don't have to worry about us. Keep that up and you'll be ruining your lovely red hair with grey." She straightened up in her seat. "We got this. Just need the right timing to execute it. At least put a little more faith in us."
Yeah, the plan.
Steve had been quite tight to the group of scientists – mainly because they were supervising over his body and mind since the day he was brought to the facility. His dead body, actually. Many things had happened after he first opened his eyes, both good and bad to the point he had to discard his "rely on oneself except guns" philosophy.
In this kind of environment, there was no way he could rely on his own. There had been a breaking point that nearly endangered a life.
Because of that knitted connection, he was openly told of Iria's plan. The nine scientists in her group, along with the right people, were with her on this one plan regardless if one mistake would end them. A plan hidden from Wesker, from his henchmen, from those who she couldn't trust or risk.
Escape off the island.
Iria was manipulative and good at that. Not directly to people but to her own job. Being a head director, yes, she had a tighter watch on herself but she was a clever woman. Used every string quietly to figure and plot out the plan.
Steve had no part in the plan since after all, he was still in a coma when they were setting the pieces together. But Iria labelled him as one of them, a trapped islander.
All of them would get off, she heavily vouched on that.
But still, he was afraid.
He wasn't going to be around. At least, as a tyrant, if danger came and the plan failed, he could be their defense. He could do something.
Steve stared straight at Iria and then sighed. That matured grit she cast onto him told him to stop fussing.
Yeah, a little faith. Heck, the things these people did would amaze anyone. He knew how capable they were.
"Yeah, I know," he said in defeat. He went about to eating his cake but his mind still lingered. "Hey, Doc. If I do get out, is there anyone you want me looking for? You know, any family?"
She shook her head.
"I don't really know much about my father's side... My mother's side, I think I had an uncle but he passed away before me and Carme got to know him... Never really kept close contact other than my father and Jared... And they're gone too."
Steve mentally cursed at himself. Stupid, you're making it worse.
He learned so much about the scientist. About everyone. For nine years, no one has left the island. Not even made a single call to their friends and families outside.
Hearing news that they've passed away was the worst one that he couldn't imagine the pain. Trapped on an island and hearing word only from HELIX themselves that your father, mother, daughter, son, sister, brother, grandfather, grandmother, or anyone close to you has died without you there.
Iria had endured four family deaths in her life. And all she had left in this world were the kids...
"Maybe HELIX's bullshitting you guys. Lying out of their ass that your pops and brother-in-law are dead."
Iria hummed a soft laugh. "Yeah, that would be nice... But frankly, whether or not they're alive, HELIX would have done something to them," she admitted. "I know my father, Steve. He was a very influencing man... Doesn't make it easy to think that HELIX would have kept him quiet or..."
She stopped herself. She didn't want to say it.
"...This Jared person..." Steve pricked her out of her little gloom. "He was a marine, right?"
A faint smile but Iria nodded. "A bit high-strung though. A man married to his job, I suppose. But he knew what was important to him." She uttered a laugh at a memory. "He loved his coffee black. If you dare put sugar or milk, he'd dump the coffee away and make a new one. He hates anything too sweet. But Jared wouldn't admit it. He used to play house with Hannah when she was small." Her laugh became strong. "I nearly broke out laughing, seeing him try to keep a straight face at all the sugar cookies she had. But Jared loved playing with the kids..."
Steve had always found it startling that Iria, a highly-intelligent woman, was indirectly coupled with a navy family. An odd combination. Hannah and Randy had talked about it despite how faint the memory was for them – how both their father and uncle were proud soldiers. Their father, however, ended his navy career young to follow down a different path while their uncle continued.
The last thing the small family had heard from Jared was his departure into Desert Storm...
"Any old friends?" Steve asked again with a hint of hopefulness.
She shook her head again.
Great, just great. This was spiraling too deep. As ironic as it sounded, this nightmarish island was practically their home and there was nothing out there for Iria and the kids other than freedom.
He admitted to himself, he was never one to be great at these kinds of talks. Iria was, not him.
"It's alright."
The comment was sudden. Iria shone out her calmness, a strength that has been tested many times by external and internal stress through the years, as she forked in another piece.
"I'll be the happiest woman on the earth if I know the kids and you are off this island. That's all that matters to me. So what awaits us out there...I'll headbutt it straight on."
Steve faintly laughed. God, was he going to miss this older woman's weird humour.
"Say, Doc?"
"Hm?"
"What will you do once you get off this island?"
She was taken by surprise.
"Huh..." Good question. What would she do after she and everyone got off... All the time, escape was all that mattered but never had she thought of the repercussion. "I don't know."
It was an honest answer.
She thought deeper. Then smiled caringly at him.
"Probably look for you," she started, receiving a gleeful beam from the kiddo. "Make amends to the kids for all the years of being the worst aunt ever." She gave a steady nod of the head. "Maybe..."Then it was her turn to look downcast. "...Maybe get Carme and Andrew new gravestones."
Again, silence – this time, Iria fiddled with an old watch she always wore.
Man, he had to stop opening up old wounds on her. Steve wished he could take it back now but the stiff expression of nostalgia took him not to take it to heart.
The two closest people in the world that Iria ever had a struggle speaking about. He had been told they died in a car accident, three years before the Raccoon City incident.
Buried exactly in the same city that was completely destroyed in a blink of an eye.
"You know," Iria broke the silence between them with a light beam. "I've heard some years ago that a memorial stone was put up for Raccoon City in Weston... Don't know if anyone put their names on it... Probably not. The accident happened before the outbreak..."
Silence again. She tried her best to be hopeful but Steve could tell the years had worn her down.
No. He was not going to let the hesitancy derail their conversation.
"Well, they should," he suddenly hollered. "And if they didn't, I'll demand them to."
The utter first lightly surprised Iria but she smiled thankfully.
"You never cease to amaze me, Kiddo...but thank you-"
Clap, clap, clap!
It was an ominous sound that brought the party to a crashing halt. It silenced everyone in a matter of seconds, even alerting Iria up from her seat and casting a dark angry look at the intruder.
Inside this research facility, Steve learned one thing clear. There was one person everyone hated.
The man, no longer wearing his black trench but to a more suitable and comfortable outfit, clapped his hands mockingly as he entered unannounced and followed by two henchmen in arms.
"A fine day to be celebrating," Wesker droned to break the silence. "Seems like I didn't get my invitation though."
No one agreed with him. No one gave a retort.
"Oh, come now. Don't make me a party pooper. It is the last day for Burnside."
"What do you want?"
Steve hissed. Yes, he hissed at him. This wasn't the first time.
"Steve." It was a quiet warning from Iria – don't step out of your place. He knew that perfectly clear. Everyone had a place on this island.
But that didn't mean he liked it.
"Isn't it obvious, Burnside?" Wesker began. "The helicopter is here. It's time to get going."
Steve eyed him widely. So soon?
He studied warily at everyone. Everyone's faces were the same – darkened and sad.
"I am truly sorry for cutting this party short but we must make haste today."
"No, you're not," Samson grumbled under his breath, caring less if he was heard or not.
"Shall we get going?"
Wesker waited. For the redhead to follow after him.
Be a good obedient pet were the words written on his face.
But Steve stayed put, daggers at him.
"I see. You want to say your farewells to all of them. Hmph," Wesker mused. "Pointless, really. I've been saying this, my boy. Your attachment to them is merely for Stockholm syndrome."
Fuck off! Don't you dare spin this around! Steve kept those words inside.
"Let him."
Iria's remark crumpled at the blond-haired man's glee.
She stood unflinching. There was a tiring and annoying reaction in those hazel eyes that he disliked to see.
As long as she was with the specimen, she'd always foil his attempts to lure the redhead like a sheep to the wolf.
"Doesn't matter if he wastes five minutes to say goodbye to us."
The silence stayed for a moment.
Then Wesker gave up. One minute, five minutes, it didn't matter indeed. "Five minutes." He then walked away. "These two will escort you to the deck, Burnside."
"Aren't you forgetting something?"
He stopped and glanced curiously at the half-Spanish. "And what would that be?"
Iria narrowed her eyes tighter.
"Ah. You mean the Kronos Virus?" It sounded more like faking stupidity than asking for confirmation. "I recall you saying you needed more time. So I'm giving you time."
Iria didn't buy it.
Figures.
"I will see you at the elevator."
The suffocating feeling tagged along the blond but only after a few more seconds, everyone at last breathed easily. There were the two underdogs but whenever that man seemed to stroll in unexpectedly, there was a mysterious force that took the air out of them.
"Gaargh!" Terry grunted. "Can't take a break with that guy looming around."
"I think I lost a few years from that." Yves heaved deeply to calm down his skipping heart.
"So...I guess this is goodbye then."
The unsettlement was tossed away by the grinding feeling after Zach grimly pointed that out.
All eight scientists had the same pained expression.
Iria showed the deepest painful face ever.
"It's ok," Steve tried his best to reassure. Sheepishly, he dragged his hand through his hair, hoping not to sound sappy. "I'd be lying if I said things will go great. I know it's not going to be easy... But I'll be ok. I'm fucking tough as nails."
Iria snickered.
"Yeah," she said. "You'll do fine."
The smiles crawled back on their faces.
Victor's hand then drew out towards Steve. "It was good to have you around, Kid."
A handshake. Something Steve didn't think a specimen would get.
But he shook it.
"Here on out, you're out there alone so you better hold your head high," Terry barked, rushing his red hair again. "Or else I'll be coming after you myself!"
"Don't you forget us, you hear?" Jose claimed on his hand too and shook it. "And you better shout out to the whole world about us."
"Don't let that man get to you!" Katherine muttered, both hands seizing his as if giving a sign of protection. Her eyes watered just a little but she did her best to keep the tears in. "And take care of yourself."
One by one, everyone shook his head and said their farewells.
Finally, it was Iria's turn.
She kept on a straight smile but he could tell how hard this was. Still, Steve hoped she wasn't going to be all sentimental.
He was a grown man, for goodness sake. There were times he didn't know why she treated him like a child.
"Well..." She struggled a bit internally. "...Goodbye, Kiddo."
Ok. No crying out tears, screaming, "NO! Like HELL am I letting you go that easily, Kiddo!". Or become some emotional wreck that it'd make it harder for him to leave.
Maybe she finally decided to give him the decency of being an adult. Leave the nest in a mature fashion.
Though, now that Steve thought about it, that kind of sucked...
Still, he didn't waver, still keeping up his beam. "Bye, Doc..."
He went through the entrance. He could feel the two HCF soldiers tag along behind him. Ugh. Guess this was something he had to get used to.
"Steve?"
He wheeled around –
– and was taken by surprise at the spread-out arms wrapping around him in an instant.
The blond-haired scientist was giving him a hug. A tight one that if she'd let go, she would lose him forever. But it was warm, motherly.
Very much like his mom...
Only then had he realized how thin she had gotten. Or was it just himself? How much of a change he had become growing up on the island...
The next words out of Iria would be kept in him closely.
"I'm grateful to have had you like a son, Steve," Iria softly whispered.
Another surprise out of her...but he didn't reject the idea.
In fact, he was thankful. Being as close as family to her in this hellhole...
This woman, this crazy four-eyed overly-stressed genius who unofficially called herself his legal guardian – sometimes, he couldn't understand why she brought him, a mutated monster, under her wing. Why she made many risks for him. There was no reward out of him and she didn't care of the virus inside of him.
But did those questions matter now?
He tightened his arms. "Hey, Doc. I'm glad I've met you."
It wasn't too long and it wasn't too short. They eventually released each other from the squeeze.
Iria, out of habit, combed the fringe out of his eyes. Steve would have told her to stop and utter that he wasn't a kid.
But this time, he simply smiled.
A silent wave hung out from her as the kiddo turned back and followed the two HCF guards. The hand still stayed up, even as Steve glanced over a few times.
Until they were gone into the lift.
Slowly and unhappily, the rest of the scientists walked back into the cafeteria and soon, back to their still, monotonous schedule. The party was over and now was time to clean. Only Victor stayed at the entrance, seeing just how lonely Iria stood in the hallway.
He walked up to her. "Going to be quiet without the kiddo around."
Victor stayed behind her. He watched as the half-Spanish woman took off her glasses and wiped away the starting wetness from her eyes. He knew her too well – she didn't want to show the waterworks to anyone, even her colleagues.
"Now I know how it feels like to be seeing your own kid go off to war..." She put back her glasses and after a deep breath to shake off her gloom, Iria continued. "Any news?"
Back to business but on a day like this, they had every right to be on their toes.
"Nothing. I've asked people downstairs. Wesker hasn't gone down to Level D."
Iria nervously bit her thumb. "Harris said Kailey is still working. That means nothing has come up in the videos too."
"You think Wesker's intention is only on the kid?"
Iria held her annoyed laugh inside. Wesker was a demanding man. He'd want more out of a small little packet every time he would come visit. "No. The virus's tests ended three hours ago. There's no way he'd pass this opportunity."
"Then he's just using the kid's transportation as cover."
"It's likely. The only question is; what is he covering?" Iria muttered.
She narrowed her eyes tighter. As much as she'd love to stop the transportation in an instant, she couldn't risk Steve's only chance of escape. The fact that Wesker had another hidden trick that she couldn't see behind the transfer was all the more making her anxious inside.
"The one thing I hate about that man," she admitted quietly. "Is the fact I don't know what his next move is going to be."
*/*/*/*
"I hate all of you."
Kailey Bernard, African American, thirty-six and one of two immunologists in Iria's team, poked at the cake in her possession with a soured pout. Watching the last three hours of tapes two days long was voluntary and she wouldn't object to doing this one important task for Iria.
What she kind of hated was that she was left out of the kiddo's farewell party.
Harris took a seat beside her and ran his fingers on the surveillance dial. "Can't be helped. Has to be someone to do this job while everyone takes the kid's mind off things."
She made a peculiar mumble with a piece of cake in her mouth. "Yes. But you all got to say goodbye to him."
"You know, you could just say no. Iria would have asked someone else."
"Out of the question."
"Excuse me."
The two scientists rolled back to the voice. Standing at the entrance of the surveillance room was an officer who had clocked in for the shift. Kailey had managed to convince the officer to leave the cameras empty for her to look back at footage.
Three hours, however, was now overstretching the proposal.
"I think you guys have overstayed your time here. My captain will have my head roll if he finds out staff's been snooping around."
"Ah, don't be such a worrywart," Kailey uttered. "It's basically like watching a movie...a very unentertaining movie."
"I'm sorry. But whatever business you looneys have, I don't want any part of it and I certainly don't want to be fired because of it."
"Well, ain't that a problem?" Harris droned calmly. "But we need another hour or so."
"Hour? If anyone sees you here, they'll fry my hide off!"
"That's why you're going to say you were off on a break. It's still lunch hour."
"What! ? Now, hang on-"
"You know." Harris picked up his untouched plate and waved it slowly around like the charming flute of a snake charmer. "Christian sure made a masterpiece this time round."
The officer's eyes lit up as he nervously swallowed. "Christian's bakery?"
"Yes, sire. Red velvet too. Too bad I ain't hungry right now. Would be a waste." The Texan shrugged high his shoulders and soon, neared his plate towards an open trashbin.
"Ah-!" The officer accidentally gasped, nearly jerking forth to stop him from doing the stupidest thing in his entire life.
Harris caught him in his trap. Like he was intending to do that. Yves would wring his neck tight if he saw this.
"Oh, my manners." Years of a poker face has benefited him greatly in his devious acts. He raised up the plate to the officer. "Should have asked if you wanted this."
The officer gritted his teeth out of ache for a taste. Also partly out of anger at the hole he was put in.
"...You have an hour. But I'm in the next room."
"Glad to do business with you," Harris said, handing him the piece of cake. "Be sure to savour the flavour."
With the officer gone, happily admiring the decorated red cake, the two turned back to the screens.
"With that nuisance out of the way, anything so far?"
"Nope," Kailey grumbled. "Haven't gotten past the 12-hour mark. Still nothing." She flopped back in her seat. "I don't like this one bit. I'm already getting paranoid that bastard's going to pull a fast one on us."
"Agree with you there. Doesn't make it easy that we were all set for today. Fine time for him to be deciding a transfer."
"You don't suppose he-?"
"Found out? Doesn't cross my mind. But Wesker would have done something already. That's our least worry though."
"Yeah, yeah. The virus... Doesn't make it easy with that thought of us being expendables at this point."
"If it comes to that, well, we might as well go all redneck crazy at them," he proposed. "For now, let's not worry 'bout that yet. If nothin' turns up, we can get on with 'it'."
Kailey nodded, despite how itchy her anxiety was.
"You think we'll be able to meet it before the storm hits? We're cutting it real close."
"Not much choice. Worse come to shove, we'll stay sheltered till the hurricane blows over."
"Ugggh, not a better choice either... The longer we stay here, the more grey hair I sprout. What a day," she groaned, forking in a piece. Ah well, the only good thing was the sweet, rich red velvet and cheese cream taste teasing at her tastebuds to calm down the paranoia. "We're never going to see Stevie again and I didn't get to say goodbye to him. To be honest, I'm not really looking forward to work if he's not around anymore."
"Hm-hm," Harris hummed, his eyes still on the screen.
Then they filleted out wide.
It was sudden that it frightened Kailey. The Texan man bolted up from his chair, his hands slammed on the console.
The face she saw on him was a rare one. Fear and anger wrapped into one.
"Harris? What's wrong?"
He didn't reply. Instead, he uttered, "Of course. That son of a gun!"
"Harris!" But he was already out of the doors.
Kailey looked back up to the screen. The video had paused at a shot down near an area everyone knew well. She rewound it back, trying to put the pieces together.
Harris saw something. What was it?
She hit the play and watched carefully.
She didn't even hear someone stroll into the surveillance room on high heels. The security guard, happily eating the red velvet cake, didn't notice the visitor before elegant and swift hands gripped his head tight and quietly jerked it in a near 180-degree.
Kailey was all too occupied to hear the stranger walk slowly up to her.
"Wait, but that's-" She stopped, gave a much closer look at the video and became even more puzzled. "No. That's not her. Then what..."
Again, she ceased talking and pulled out her cellphone. No point in asking questions. This officially was a red flag.
"Got to warn the others." She looked back to the monitors, ready to hit the dial Iria's number. She squinted her eyes at one little small object she could spot within the video. Oddly enough, it looked familiar. Moreover, that thing shouldn't be down there "Oh my god. Isn't that-?"
Click!
She froze for less than one second. That sound was very much close from behind.
Kailey spun around.
Only to spot the black barrel of a silencer pointed between her eyes.
Shi-
Bang!
*/*/*/*
Ding!
Steve glanced miserably at the blinking numbers above him. Two more levels and they'd be at the top.
He'd be off the island for good.
No more playing games with Randy. No more beach strolls with Hannah. No more talks with Iria. No more going to Marge's diner. No more routine runs with Kent and his men. No more handlers. No more friends.
No more having what he truly and oddly considered this one year as a normal life.
Out there, he was surely expecting himself to be locked up in a smaller, duller cell. No longer the privileges he was given thanks to Iria – he would be on a tighter leash. And the folks there would probably be as rotten and hostile towards him as possible. All he was told by Wesker was that it was a small militia facility. That he'd be a solider like Wesker himself. He expected great things out of him...
That was the only thing he could offer? Steve would have discarded it in an instant.
But he also knew what kind of man Wesker was. Iria knew better too.
Had he said no, Wesker would have done something drastic to make him say yes.
He had one time used Iria's family as leverage against him, already noticing how close Steve had gotten to them.
And Steve went ballistic on him.
Really sad, though. That hotshot took him down easily and would have ended him had Iria not stepped in, ready to shoot him down.
Many times Steve had been played like a fool by Wesker, like everyone else had inside the facility. And many times, he had to repeat the words from his handlers, remind himself not to let him know his mind games and psychological abuse weren't working to a great degree. Yes, Steve still had the scars. But he wouldn't drop down to his knees.
This was one of them for sure. To see just how loyal he was to Wesker.
Was there any way he could, oh, toss him into the sea?
"Why such a sorrowful face, Burnside?" Wesker's mocking voice breezed at his back like shivers. "Africa is an enjoyable, exotic country. I'm sure you enjoy the atmosphere there then here."
Steve cast a small glare at him but then looked back to the doors. One wrong move and he'd probably be needled down with anaesthetic.
He was alone now.
No Doc. No Harris or Kailey. No Victor, Katherine, everyone.
Steve had never known how grateful he truly was until he found himself losing it all.
He lost everything before. And now it was happening again. How ironic.
Ding!
The sound was a sound he didn't think would hold up like a knife into him. Light slipped through the opening gap, wider and wider until he was hit by the bright morning sun, the rushing salt smell and the loud cackling of seagulls.
There was a continuous woosh-woosh noise of spinning blades. In the middle of the large deck, -having risen up from the hidden facility – was a black helicopter, fit to taste for Wesker no doubt.
Their only means of travelling off this island. And for good.
Wesker was the first to exit the elevator. Steve hung stiff in between. He ignored the two henchmen's order to hurry him forward.
The blond-haired man looked back and only grinned at him.
"What's the hold up, my dear boy?"
One step forward and they'd be off.
But...
His legs wouldn't go.
His dominant side, the one with a conscious, was scared to leave.
Was it right? Leaving everyone behind?
Everyone he now considered close?
The other side, the monstrous one, didn't care. It didn't matter to it if they stayed here or were elsewhere. It just wanted to rest.
Bunch of help that side was...
"Are we having second thoughts?"
Shut up. Steve could feel that damn smirk drilling further into his uncertainty.
But that was the truth.
He didn't want to leave everyone.
Iria had constantly told him he was important. She had always and strongly made it a point that there was someone waiting for him.
That someone, she has said many times, was Claire.
That, however, was unfair.
Why was he special that he had someone outside to live for while everyone on the island weren't? Why should he even have this one chance of escape?
Why should he leave everyone?
The memories flashed in his mind. The good ones and soon, he felt his eyes a little wet.
The whole world had forgotten them, including him. But right on this island of false paradise...
Steve wondered. If it was Claire in his shoes, would she easily ditch these people? No, would anyone?
The answer he knew clearly: No. How could anyone do that?
Then stay, the monstrous side of his mind grouched at him.
"Get a move on!" one of the thugs behind him ordered.
It had been a long time since he prayed hard for a miracle. Steve begged hard for something to happen. Anything.
He was helpless. The moment he'd retaliate, there would be many outcomes: being shot, being incapacitated down, and the list went on. And more consequences would follow.
Please...
So he wished for a reason to react.
Please! Something fucking happen!
Click!
The sound of a gun after that of the elevator doors opening twitched at his right ear. Far. But it was different from that of a normal handgun.
He knew the standard. Only scientists and non-security personnel could carry it in case of emergency, for their own protection.
Harris stood behind them, taser gun pointed straight at Wesker.
"Harris?"
"Wesker," Harris didn't pay mind to Steve's call, glaring ferociously at the man in black. "What did you do?"
Steve tensed on the spot.
"Tell me!" the scientist demanded. "What did you do! ?"
The grin on Wesker's face just seemed to stretch out only by a millimetre.
*/*/*/*
Tick! Tick! Tick!
Down in the server room, where the very heart of the facility's hardware lied awake, a small little black box echoed within the smallest cranny so quietly that the no tech could hear it.
Numbers counted down.
*/*/*/*
"Remember that one time he beat us at poker during that night with Kent's men?" Samson laughed, folding away the table cloth. "Man, did he know his cards well."
"Of course, Kailey thought him everything about poker," Jose mumbled.
"How much did we lose that night? $200 dollars?"
"220. We were desperate then," Zach corrected. "Exactly what did he spend that money on anyway?"
"How should I know? He doesn't spend any time inside that room of his. It's still as bland as the day he got it."
"Well, he could have put something there."
Jose raised an eyebrow. "Oh, like what?"
"I dunno. A cactus?"
"Really? A cactus?"
"Hey. Those are easy to keep. Don't need much water."
"Why are you all making a fuss what he did with it? You lost a poker game and it became his money," Katherine snapped lightly.
"Come on. You got to be at least curious about what he spent on."
She simply rolled her eyes.
"Oh, wait! It was that red plane model, right? He spent it on that!"
"Hang on." Samson glanced with puzzlement. "He bought off from Ramos three months ago. And 220 for a toy? Doubtful."
"Well, it's the Ramos twins. Their prices are ridiculous!"
Terry chuckled loud. "The kid's been gone for two minutes and already everyone's being nostalgic." He glanced at Iria, noting her face still glum. She had taken out her phone, flipped it open and gazed at the screen with an empty look. Probably looking at photos of the kids.
"Ah, come on, Iria. Don't be so down."
"Kailey hasn't reported back."
It was soft that only Terry and Victor had heard, now perking at their suspicion.
Iria was used to being called paranoid by other co-workers. But that paranoia had been helpful.
She had little experience in combat strategy – basically, her own system was founded on what her brother-in-law taught her but it was one of many things she was grateful for.
She calmed herself down. She couldn't think of the worst possible situations. Kailey had Harris as her partner and they were both capable on their own.
Iria shook her head. "I'm overthinking again."
She breathed in and breathed out, withdrawing her phone into her pocket.
"Yeah... I'm just overthinking it."
*/*/*/*
Tick! Tick! Tick!
The last seconds drew to an end.
3...2...1… Beep!
Artificial lighting erupted from the small little box and throughout the server room, filling up with the blinding flash of light and the deep thunderous roar. It didn't leave much of a destructive crater but its invisible pulses ripped into the circuits and jammed at the internal systems. Not enough to corrupt and destroy the facility's software but enough to turn the only AI security offline. Temporarily.
And with that, every electronic structure inside the facility shut down into darkness.
For one moment of chaos.
*/*/*/*
It took them by surprise. The whole building turned dark in a blind of an eye and everything froze in a matter of forty seconds.
Then redness blinked rapidly.
The emergency lights spun above the scientists head as their eyes darted nervously at the sudden crisis in the cafeteria.
"Is this another blackout?" Jose asked.
No one answered straight away at the terrifying obvious answer. But no matter how recognizable it was, it did not quench down their concern.
"That's strange," Katherine uttered, hitting the buttons on her phone on the urge to call up Kailey or Harris. "Service's down."
Slowly, some of the scientists fished out their cellphones too and tapped away. No bars.
"What's going on?" Samson asked.
"Calm down," Zach tried his best to hide the anxiety. "We're on the top levels. No way it'd be like that incident... Right?"
His word croaked weakly.
Terry then stood forth and slowly headed to the entrance. "We'll just have to wait it out, I suppose. Come on. Let's head upstairs."
Everyone agreed. Yves waved to the cooks behind the serving tables to follow. There was no point in staying put here. The only safest place would be at the lobby.
Just in case...
"Something's wrong."
Victor curiously eyed the head director, noting the deep consuming worry in her.
"GAIAN is taking too long to come back online," Iria hissed through her teeth warily.
His mouth gaped open, just nearly enough for his toothpick to tilt down.
He could say that perhaps, it was delaying just a bit. Some human error as the techs below hurried to get the system back to normal. Victor, however, stopped himself.
The only problem was Iria had been down this road before.
"GAAAAAARGH! ! !"
And immediately, all eight scientists swung their hands onto their taser guns holstered at their backs or sides. Eyes fixed onto the entrance.
The scream was bloodcurdling but familiar. Not only because of who that scream was – another employee on the same level as they were – but also what caused it.
A man being ripped apart and devoured by a monster.
"C-Can't be," Zach cagily whimpered. "They couldn't have escaped..."
The moment was tense under the raging noise. Many times, they had their experiences altogether or separately where crisis would come at any corner. All too well did they know it would be a fool to be gunless when factors could alter the course.
Sweat trickled down Terry's brow. Cautiously, he neared closer to the entrance.
"Terry!" Victor whispered harshly but a hand from him held up, drastically reassuring him that he'd be fine.
Terry pulled out his taser and readied a clip while mentally reading a psalm to himself. Yes, he was both a religious man and a man of science but he wasn't one to see blurry lines.
It was ironic. He had been shaking off his duties in his faith because of how scarred one could be working in this place. He was doubtful his prayer was heard.
Whatever one's religion was, his god, everyone's gods, had clearly abandoned them long ago.
Hurling in one deep breath, Terry stomped out.
Nothing in the hallway.
What was strange was the lack of people. Did they hurry to the stairways?
The big man breathed again. Still, was stupid of them to think any escapee would have rocketed from below all the way to the second floor. "False alarm. Nothing's outside-"
"Terry!"
It was rather strange for one second, seeing all the faces of his colleagues stare horrid at him.
No, at something.
He felt a wet heavy drop on his shoulder.
Already, Terry knew. It was too late for him. This was a cliché moment he had seen too many times in movies.
So he accepted his fate on the spot, deciding to get over with it. And warily glanced up.
Midway of the hall and the entrance was a predator hungry for blood. It no longer could be considered near human – probably a combination to a harpy and a brain-exposed, skinless monster he heard once. Its body was sleek, long and streamlined that overall, many had described it to be 'feminine' despite the hosts' original gender.
It stuck to the ceiling so easily thanks to its hands and feet – all board and flat with sharp deadly talons digging into cement. Its hands were like small wings while its feet like that of a giant bird. This specimen could not fly but it most certainly could sprint on any surface like lighting.
It was made to be the best and quietest raider in the list of BOWs.
Its head had opened up like a flower with petals drawn far back. The exposed flesh, bone and brain tissue appallingly tangled together to make it like it bore a sick joke of feathered ears. Mockingly, its long tongue drew out in a slow, wary manner like a blind anteater trying to search for its food source.
Terry didn't dare to swallow. To move. To do anything in that stretched out seconds.
One of all the BOWs in their workshop of horrors, codenamed Erinye, had escaped and managed to weasel up to their level in lighting speed.
The ladylike gecko freak slowly circled its head about. Right! It was completely blind from that biological satellite dish in its head.
Kak, kak!
It clicked its teeth and faced directly at him.
He also forgot about its echolocation.
Yes. God had abandoned them.
Teeth flashed too fast for him to see them maul onto his neck.
"TERRY!" Iria screamed.
*/*/*/*
Hhhhhhhhhrrrrrrrnnnnnngggggg! Hhhhhhhhhrrrrrrrnnnnnngggggg!
On the deck of the facility, the alarm rang through the horns, stirring panic into a few personnel who were in charge of overseeing the surface. It was a sound Steve had never heard during his time on Cape Inacio but most certainly knew its meaning.
Steve couldn't help but feel dreadfully cold.
"What! ?" Harris yelled at the emergency siren. Confusion warped at his face as he struggled to comprehend the situation.
Only Wesker had all the answers. He smirked a little wider, remaining where he stood with pride. And that all the more drove at the two's uneasiness.
He was the composer after all.
The first of the dominos had fallen.
Enemy Data
Erinye
Based: Human
Date of creation: Presumably between 1997 to 2006
Created via: Further mutation of a Shade or in laboratory conditions, or introduction of the Kronos virus to a Licker specimen
Purpose: Natural mutation, Kronos Virus infection, BOW
The Erinye is a specimen with two varied origins: a mutation experienced by Shades after a period of time or a Licker mutated further after introducing the Kronos virus to it. The mutations transform them into more flexible but deadlier and nimble forms of hunters.
The Erinye is one of several specimens as part of the Kronos project and kept within the Theseus Research Facility's more secured levels. They were created to be potential bio-weapons that could be more effective in stealth. During the 2006 outbreak, they and many other specimens are escaping because of a sudden power failure in the system, and wreaking havoc within the facility.
While similar to a Licker, its most striking appearance is its slender structure which benefits to its agility and momentum. Erinyes have the capability to move swiftly as quadrupedal or bipedal but they show preference to crawling on all fours on any surface to surprise their prey. Their large, spread-out claws and talons, though rather thin appendages, have enough grip to hold its entire weight up to the ceiling and move about with little difficulty in gravity and noise. Like a Licker, they lack eyes and cannot detect a prey by sight. It, however, relies heavily on echolocation to locate, and gather sounds bounced off objects into its convex head. Its elongated tongue, just as effective as a Licker's tongue in piercing human flesh and even decapitating, can also detect these soundwaves and even smell particles. Thanks to their advanced primal intellect, they have many dangerous tactics. Not only can it seek out its prey easily but if necessary, an Erinye can choose to lie in wait and grab an unsuspecting prey with its claws much like a Venus fly trapper, even while holding onto the ceiling. Overall, this becomes a powerful master of covertness. The presence of an Erinye can often be hinted by its echolocating sounds.
In recent files, HELIX has started establishment to sell Erinyes for the BOW market. The buyer currently taking in Erinyes is the terrorist group, the Rasuls, in the Middle East.
The name Erinyes comes from the Greek mythology, female chthonic deities of vengeance. They are also referred to as Furies. The Furies' task was to hear complaints brought by mortals with discrimination towards others and punish such crimes by hounding culprits relentlessly.
Vickie: HEYA GUYS! First chapter of second episode is finished! :D Yeeeeey! This took a while cuz of the interactions, MAINLY WESKER. :/ I dunno if I've made him as sinister as he normally is in games. And yes, NEW ENEMY. :3
Btw, just so you know, yes, I have a long list of enemies already done. :P
So yes, mainly this episode is gonna be about what happened just after the outbreak. Yeah, I guess it sounds like a filler but really, there are some points that needs explaining and some interactions I want to show more of, especially Steve's connection with the island as brief as it is now.
Another factor is Iria. Basically, from her past experiences and family, she knows how to lead even if she has little combat skills – which actually, she has high intelligence to make up for that lack (No, really, the amount of stuff I'm going to write is like crazy thinking on her part). While she is a head director, she also has her own group not only as like close buddies but also as an effective and trusted team and with their own skills.
A little bit more about her team. They work together whenever they can despite being in different branches but if split up, they'll always tag with their assigned partners. Victor and Katherine, Harris and Kailey, Terry and Jose, and Samson, Yves and Zach. Iria is on her own because of how dangerous her position is to them. You could say there've been incidents where stepping in to help could very much put yourself at risk. Incidentally, Iria has been through a lot that she knows what to do to the tooth if alone. And it doesn't always mean that her co-workers will abandon her at times. Most of the time, they rely solely on their own conversations skills than taser guns to get them out of a bad situation. I will say that sadly, only two scientists are gonna be playable characters in this story. Would be cool to have a lot but their classes would still be mostly interference regardless and I had already planned who's a playable character. I guess the extras could be playable characters for other modes? –shrugs–
And yeah, now we get to the point that lives are being lost. Sad to say that Terry and Kailey are immediately killed. Truth be told…those were few of my favourite OCs. :'( No really. I made Kailey as having been a DNA analyst in a police force before she joined as a scientist and Terry's the big bear of the group all cuz he played hockey! There's little details hidden like Yves is actually in a healthy homosexual relationship and Harris, being one of Steve's handlers, has a huge knowledge of planes and so on. Even more like what their families that are being leveraged like Iria's niece and nephew and their purposes to why they'll keep working on a virus. Which this one important purpose you'll learn later. And it ain't about fame or reputation. But yeah, virus = death so I just can't make it that easy that "Hey, everyone lives". Wishful thinking really.
Also, yeah, you're probably asking why I'm giving Steve a liking to planes. Here's the thing: we had a seventeen-year-old kid who knew how to fly a plane in Code: Veronica. I think that's safe to say he had some dream about being a pilot or something before the whole incident. So that's my interpretation. And this will open a lot more doors on his character design for sure. :D
Alright, this note is done. I've delayed enough. Hope you guys enjoy this new instalment and yessss, YESSSS, I GET INTO THE GORE PART! WHOO-HOO! Thank you all for the wonderful reviews as well! Happy reading and reviewing!
PS. I've changed some names in the second chapter. Originally there's a character there named Jerrod Matthews, Leon's friend and navy guy. But thanks to a friend, Sheenah (check out her fics btw!), I've decided to change Jerrod to Jared and Matthews to Blackwell. That name Blackwell will be coming as often as Redfield btw. :3
Edit: Ok so I screwed up the age on Steve. Changed it.