Alright, so I'm hoping to settle into a rhythm for updates rather soon - I'm not sure how long this is gonna be, or how long it's gonna take to write, so bear with me.

This chapter is set a few months after the initial fall; and warning for mentions of fall trauma, broken bones and the like.


When Jill wakes up, she isn't sure how long she's been out, or why she's waking up in the first place. Her eyelids are heavy, and she thinks she's floating, even though her limbs feel like they're made of lead. Her eyes start to refocus, and the room is filled with a blinding white light.

"Heaven?" she thinks, and she isn't sure if the thought of it makes her comfortable or more afraid.

Jill takes a moment to observe herself, and looking down, she sees the tubes and wires that are keeping her alive, she sees her own body, marred and scraped, and there's a large gash near her left hand, and another like it on her knee. Most likely compound fractures.

She pictures her lifeless body washed up on the shore, wrists and ankles shattered, bones that weren't completely pulverized protruding from her mangled corpse at every imaginable angle. If the fall didn't kill her, she sure as hell should've bled out.

There's a feeling in her gut that she can't explain, and something isn't adding up. No one survives falls from that height.

She looks around again, and the stasis containers on the walls confirm her suspicions. This isn't heaven, this is hell, and she's absolutely terrified.

Something is buzzing, and a large platform in the middle of the room rises slowly to her height. The seconds that pass as it reaches her tick by like hours, and there are two people - she can't quite make out who - standing at the edge.

"Ah, good. You're awake," The familiar voice is like nails on a chalkboard, and she knows she's in trouble, dying would have been a gift. A woman that Jill doesn't recognize stands at the control panel, and the door hisses loudly as it opens. "and healing quite nicely, I see."

He runs a hand along her leg, examining the scars and contusions that have yet to fade away.

The only thing she can think to tell him is "fuck you" but the words don't form, and all she can do is sputter weakly.

Wesker smiles, and gestures to the woman, who then presses a button, and Jill is falling into a crumpled heap on the platform. She curls herself up tighter to avoid further revealing herself, and the platform starts to rise again.

It stops, and she hears Wesker mention something about preparations.

"Get her dressed, Excella," he commands, as he walks towards the lift's exit. "She does look pitiful."

The woman reaches beside one of the monitors to pick up a black garment before walking in Jill's direction. Her white heels clink against the steel, and Jill finds herself wishing that one of them will catch on the floor and trip her.

"Come with me, Ms. Valentine" she says, offering a hand to help her up.

Reluctantly, she reaches up and takes the arm that's offered to her. Her legs are wobbly, but she manages to stand, crossing her arms over her chest. Excella hands her the robe and turns away, and Jill is grateful for the moment of privacy - however brief it may be.

"Thank you," she forces out, slipping her arms into the soft cloth, and Excella nods.

"You must be hungry," Excella tells her, sliding an arm around her back for support as she leads her to the exit. "Albert will be wanting to see you soon. It's in your best interest to be in the best shape possible."

Excella's voice seems distant, and Jill is ready to collapse again; if Wesker had wanted her dead, he could've left her there, let the authorities find her body.

Jill tells herself that maybe she's lucky. Maybe she's been given a chance to get in close and take him down from inside. She just needs to convince herself that it's the truth.