Four: Yawn

Richard grabbed his head forcefully as he exited the door leading to the balcony. He let Forest down, and now his friend was bleeding to death—if he hadn't died already—because of his inability to look out for his teammates.

As he stepped foot into the grand hall, Richard dropped his Assault Shotgun and rested his arm against the wall beside him, punching it with his other hand all the while.

All your fault…it's all your fault, Aiken. If it was the other way around, he would've looked out for you…and he has. And the one time you were supposed to be looking out for someone other than yourself, you let Forest down. They didn't kill Forest…you did.

Facing his demons head-on was something Richard wasn't accustomed to doing. In fact, most of the times he felt very sure of himself: about missions, about friendships, and keeping his head on his shoulders. But with the realization that he had stepped into someone's greatest nightmare, and that he now had to go through it alone was something that was starting to take its toll on the man.

You sulking isn't going to bring Forest back to life, Aiken; get your head back in it.

Richard nodded to himself; he would worry about this situation when he survived. He knew Alpha would come to their rescue, and when and if he regrouped with the others, they would come back and get Forest and Kevin the hell out of here. Richard would be damned if he'd leave his friends behind.

Sighing deeply once more, Richard bent over and grabbed his shotgun, slinging it to his side and drawing his Samurai Edge. He wasn't sure exactly where he was going—the mansion was just as big as he predicted, if not bigger—and covering all this ground by himself was going to take some time.

Radio!

He couldn't believe that he hadn't tried to radio in for help all this time. He grabbed his radio from his side and switched frequencies. "Come in, Bravo Team," he said into the radio in almost a whisper. "This is Richard Aiken. Forest is wounded. I may have a possible KIA. Can you read me? Over."

Silence…nothing but white noise.

"If you can hear me, please give me some sort of sign. Over. Forest is dying! Over! He needs immediate medical attention. Does anyone read me? Is anyone still alive? Over!"

"Shit!" Richard exclaimed, cupping his hand over his forehead, wiping the sweat that drenched his forehead. His short crew-cut hair was soaked in the smelly liquid; he would have to take a long shower when this was through.

Forest is in the next room bleeding to death and you're worried about taking a shower, he angrily thought to himself. Maybe Forest was right…maybe everyone else is dead like Kevin… The realization wasn't exactly a farfetched one. It could've been possible that all of the Bravos fell at the same time Kevin did, and he and Forest were the lucky two who managed to escape the hellhole.

Who are you kidding? You're the only "lucky" one here; you're the one who's still alive.

He refused to give up hope on getting in contact with anyone just yet. He clenched the radio in his hand tightly and proceeded to make another transmission. "This is Richard Aiken of Bravo Team. If anyone is out there, whether it's the other Bravos or Alpha, please respond. I have a wounded officer with me that needs immediate medical attention! Please, if anyone is out there, please respond! Over!"

It was hopeless, Richard was thinking to himself. He was in a mansion in the outskirts of town, surrounded only by forest; there was no way he'd get a feed inside the house. But if he managed to find a way outside, he could possibly get in touch with someone from the precinct…but the realization was that the dogs were still out there, and who knew how many more of them were. From what he remembered, the only dogs he encountered or heard about was the dog that attacked him and the one that apparently attacked Forest, and that was it.

Maybe I can try to find some sort of hard-line in this place and make a call. The plan wasn't exactly irrational; but Richard knew that the possibility of that happening was slim to none. This was just turning out to be a worse day by the second, and the only way he'd get the hell out of this place was if he moved…and moved fast… He'd have to worry about getting Forest home in a body bag later when he figured out just what the hell was going on in the first place.

"…ard…R…cca…"

The radio beamed to life just then, transmitting a crackly message from someone with a high-pitched voice. The voice also sounded very feminine. It had to be either Rebecca or Jill. But seeing as though the one who would be contacting from the Alphas would be Brad, it had to be Rebecca.

"Rebecca, is that you? Over."

"…mon…rs…Edwar…KI…Richard…"

"Rebecca! Rebecca!" Richard shouted into the radio, getting frustrated to all hell that the feed he was getting within the mansion sucked to high-heaven. "Rebecca, if you can hear me, I'm on the 2nd floor of the mansion. Forest is in the balcony area and he needs medical attention! I'm not exactly sure where you are, but see to it that you help Forest. I'll be investigating the second floor so regroup with me ASAP. Over."

Richard didn't get a response from Rebecca after that; hopefully she heard his transmission and was readily on her way toward him. He knew there was nothing Rebecca could do for Forest at this point, but he shouldn't give up hope that his resilient friend still had some fight left in him. The idea of leaving him behind was still fresh in his mind…but as callous as Richard knew it was to be thinking…Forest was dying, and he wasn't.

Again, worry about it when you get the hell out of this place, Richard thought to himself, shaking his head and readying himself as he walked through the door at the end of the hallway. Once through, it lead him to a narrow corridor with one of the walking corpses already on his way to him.

He had a new agenda: his mind had lost all sanity in this place…he didn't care what the consequences were of him killing everything and anything in sight. He adopted the ideals Forest displayed back in the factory, a "shoot first, ask questions later" type of ideal. He knew these people were not themselves anymore; they weren't human, they were simply shells of their former selves, shells that are lost to themselves and to all others.

Richard, with his Samurai Edge in hand, grabbed he hilt of the weapon forcefully, aiming directly below the zombie's right eyebrow, fired once and watched the projectile smash the skull of the advancing madman, the zombie falling to the floor lifeless soon after.

As Richard stepped over the corpse and walked toward the corner, he didn't notice that another zombie was watching patiently for him, catching him by surprise. He also didn't notice the one almost directly behind him until it was too late. As he grappled with the first, the second tried to come around to Richard's side to flank. But holding the creature at bay, Richard grabbed the hair of the grappling zombie and drew his knife, burying it underneath the zombie's chin, watching the blade make its way to the top of its skull.

Kicking that corpse off, Richard spun quickly and fired point blank at the advancing carrier's face, watching the 9mm slug splatter its nose, the blood from the ordeal spraying Richard across the face. He had never tasted the feeling of blood lust until this very second, and truth be told, he loved the feeling.

"Serves you fuckers right," he spat, wiping the blood off his face with his elbow. He wasn't sure how many of these things there were exactly, but he knew that the entire estate might've caught this disease, and sizing up the place, Richard knew that there was no way he had enough ammunition to take them all down. He could always go back for Forest's grenade launcher and clips, sure, but how long could that possibly last?

Richard shook the thought away; he'd worry about it when the time came to worry.

Remembering that he passed a door on his right before killing the three carriers, Richard backtracked and grabbed the doorknob, turning it slightly while inching the muzzle of the Samurai Edge in the crack of the door.

Kicking the door forcefully, Richard swept the area and noticed that it was clear, nodding to himself to keep that note in check. The room wasn't exactly big either; just a corridor that led to another door.

Stepping through that door using the same method as before, Richard moved in and noticed a door not even five feet from his position. Walking up the three steps that led to the door, Richard took a deep breath and walked through, the chills running up his spine as he did. For some reason, he didn't have a good feeling about the place.

It looked like it was an attic; one that hadn't been used in a very long time. There were cobwebs as well as dusty barrels that littered the place, and as Richard tread through, he discarded his Samurai Edge and whipped out his Assault Shotgun.

The room didn't look to have any sort of significance, and as Richard was about to leave, he felt the floor beneath him begin to shake.

Surprised, Richard looked forward and noticed that a monstrosity had come through the other side. It looked to be some sort of snake at some point in time, although it was now much, much larger. Its long body slithered from the hole above the ceiling and it mounted itself on the wall, hugging the floor as he lifted up his head high and showed the large fangs that protruded with venom.

"What the fuck…?" Richard said out loud, only to have the snake look at him with hunger in its eyes. It seemed to yawn before making its way to him.

Not taking any time to hesitate, Richard aimed his shotgun forward and fired, the spray shot hitting just below Yawn's neck, small trickles of blood falling from the wound.

In anger, Yawn lunged forward at Richard and was disappointed as his food jumped out of the way and shot another round at its lower body. Yawn retaliated by spitting something at Richard, the greenish liquid landing on his tactical vest, singing it.

Is that fucking acid? Richard asked himself, feeling the warmth of the acid as it burned through his vest and made its way to his shirt. He ripped off the vest as soon as he could, tossing it aside and aiming his shotgun forward once more, ready to fire.

Yawn, ready for his food's attack, lunged forward at Richard, its massive fangs sinking into his right forearm and bicep. Richard felt like he was taking a stroll through Hell as the fangs sunk in; the poison was already making his way through his body. He had to keep himself in check; going in shock now was going to end up making him snake food, and he wasn't about to let that happen. He fired at Yawn's face and watched as its right eye exploded in a cloud of blood, the massive thing shrieking in pain and taking its mouth off Richard, allowing him time to assess the situation.

Richard took the time to hurry to the door, exiting quickly, slamming it shut behind him and running through the door in front of him as well.

Shit, shit, shit! He exclaimed to himself in pain. His arm looked even worse than Forest's arm did; if the snake had stood on any longer it would've ripped his arm clean off.

Sweating profusely, Richard fell to the ground and began to toss and turn in agony. He screamed at the top of his lungs as he heard footsteps walk in his direction.

Richard looked up and saw a white tactical vest with a red medical cross on the right breast…and forgot about the pain for a good second.

Rebecca had found him.

- - -

Forest felt someone touching the wound on his forearm caused by the dogs. His eyelids were heavy, and he saw no point in opening them. Was it Richard that came back for him with the medicine like he promised? Was it one of the other Bravos or Alphas coming to save him? All these thoughts were rushing through his mind, but he couldn't put two and two together.

He squinted his eyes carefully and looked to the world before him; it all looked new, strange, and somewhat disoriented. As he stared in front of him, the S.T.A.R.S. patch of one of his fellow teammates, as well as a green tactical vest, caught his eye. Who it was he didn't know; he wasn't exactly in the right state of mind to think of anything…

What's wrong with me? Forest thought to himself. He could hear his teammate saying, "No," but to what? he didn't know himself. However, Forest recognized the voice; it had to belong to Chris Redfield.

Chris touched the wound on Forest's arm again and quickly shook his head. "Jesus, Forest," he said to himself out loud, "what the hell could've done this to you, man?"

Why's Redfield talking like I'm dead or something? Forest thought to himself. He felt himself smile as Chris stroked his hair and turned around. Wait, wait! Don't leave me here alone! We gotta find Richard!

Forest rose from his position and stared Chris down. He could see a blurry vision of his friend turning around quickly and backing up, Samurai Edge in hand.

All Forest could do was smile and walk toward him.

"Forest…no," Redfield said, shaking his head in utter denial. "Not you too, man… Not like this…"

Always the jokester, Forest thought, now picking up his pace. Chris' face looked pained; something very wrong was happening, Forest could sense. He didn't look at him like he normally did; now he looked at Chris violently, giving him the same stare as was being done to him.

Then something happened; Forest felt his brain lose all focus. All he could think was…itchy…tasty…and he wanted nothing more than to see the blood spew from Chris Redfield's form. He opened his mouth, showing barred teeth that were once used to show off his pearly white smile, and lunged for Chris.

Chris, still shaking his head, kept his position. "I'm sorry, Forest. I didn't mean for it to end this way…"

He fired once, and Forest fell to darkness…