AN: Whoa, two updates in the same 24 hour period? And both of them are the longest chapters to date? What, am I on a roll? No, just finally starting to pick up some steam, put some ideas on the table, suchenchance. Please don't mind the typos, this whole thing was typed out over the course of an hour, on a keyboard with sticky keys. Now, last chapter, I promised some secrets would be revealed, and I'm running out of creative things to say in these author notes, so lets just skip all the babble and go right to the fourth overdose of insanity in...
Associate Evil
white
Everywhere he looked, white. It didn't hurt his eyes like he supposed light would, which meant it wasn't light. But what was white, if not light? Was he dead? Was this all there was to death, a big blur of whiteness?
As Joseph pondered this, reality began to merge into being around him, starting out as clouds of black and expanding into colors, textures, sizes, and shapes. Interesting.
He realized he was standing in an empty board room, black leather chairs organized around a long, central table. A projection screen, currently not in use, awaited at the head of the table, the position of importance. Joseph looked towards the screen expectantly, certain that whatever it had to show was all that mattered in this place. As he stared, it flickered into life, showing an elliptical clear bottle with the word "Life" clearly labeled onto it.
"Mr. Games, I assume your flight was comfortable?" A man asked, causing Joseph to jump. He looked downwards, noting with the casualness of a dreamer that every chair was now filled by several bored looking men in suits. The man furthest towards the projection screen smiled, indicating he was the one speaking. His pitch colored sunglasses gleamed in the bright room.
"I'm not... very sure right now." Joseph offered up, his throat surprisingly raspy. It was true, he had no clue how he had gotten here. A flight?
"Jetlag." The man said, nodding gently. "I take it you've never flown by helicopter before. No matter, I see you brought the necessary paperwork." Joseph looked down, startled, and realized he was holding a plain brown briefcase. "Very good, I'm sure Gerald informed you of what we hope to accomplish here?"
Joe cocked his head to the side, straining to remember who Gerald was. "Your boss, Mr. Games. He sent you here to negotiate a carrying agreement, in lieu of himself." Joseph nodded, recalling the elderly man he had only met on a few occasions.
The man pulled out a pen, leaned forward expectantly. "Now, I expect you've been briefed on what my company produces, correct?" Joe nodded his head, hating this feeling of confusion. Smiling slightly, the man continued. "Just to refresh you, then. My company - Umbrella Corp. - researches and produces biological applications for medicinal purposes. Most of what we produce is top secret for obvious reasons, but our latest product -" he gestured to the projection screen, "- is now ready to begin its distribution stage. We've cleared with the SS, FDA, CWI, and every other institute that wanted to try and hold this product back. And they all found the same thing. No noticable side effects, and it actually rejuvinates the body and rolls back time. With this product, a forty year old woman can look thirty again. A thirty year ol woman, twenty five. With no major side effects."
Joe nodded, impressed despite his confusion. "And I come into this..."
"Because, Mr. Games, our public relations is at an all time low. Ever since that biologist went and got herself killed in Arklay woods, rumors have been spreading that Umbrella Corp. is in the business of producing monsters." The man chuckled. "We could release Life to a few limited top pharmacies in the nation, and make an easy thousand per drop. People would be willing to pay that much for our water of youth."
"But, Mr. Games, we realize the need for distribution, word of mouth, and affordability. It costs our company approximately ten thousand to produce a liter of Life. My company is willing to take losses for the first six months, roughly, and retail Life for $10 per mL." He held up a small, thin bottle, similar to the one on screen. "A milliliter is enough Life to last a person a week, if used according to the proper dosage. But if we sell it for $10, surely pharmaceutical companies will reap the profit and continue to sell it to loyal consumers for several times more than that. Umbrella will be losing money, the medical community will be making even more money that it doesn't deserve, and the community as a whole will not have reasonable access to Life."
The man paused to catch his breath. "What we needed, therefore, was a company with a reputation for bottom line prices, capable of distributing on a large scale, that our target market was familiar with, that they already trusted." He looked Joseph in the eyes, his sunglasses reflecting Joseph's startled gaze. "Mr. Games, what we're offering is an exclusive retail deal to Wal-Mart and it's subsidaries, at a fraction of the cost, for a minimum of six months."
Joseph leaned forward against the table, thinking. "Why was I sent to take care of this? Decisions of this level should be handled by the stockholders, by the CEOs, at the very least, by the home office."
"Gerald thought highly of your opinion, and managed to get the home office to agree to send you out in his place, due to his recent operation. All we need you to do, Mr. Games, is sign your agreement to the price, terms of distribution, and our lawyers will take care of the rest." He held out the pen he had drawn, which Joseph slowly took.
He paused, looked down. "What... can you tell me about the Arklay rumors? As far as I heard, the biologist was found ripped to shreds within the boundaries of the Umbrella labs. Zoologists were unable to confirm a dental match to any of the local fauna, and..."
The man interrupted with a hearty laugh. "And slowly reports began to leak out that the tooth marks were certainly humans." He paused solemnly. "Mr. Games, I assure you that Umbrella is not in the business of building cannibals." He gestured to the screen. "We aim to bring life, not murder. The Arklay incident... not even our own team know's what happened down there, but I can assure you that our company, and our products, had nothing to do with it."
Joseph hesitated, then clicked the pen, leaned forward, and signed.
"And here. Here too. And lastly, the public nondisclosure clause. You can't discuss this with anyone in the media until three weeks before it hits the shelves."
"And that takes care of all that." The man smiled. Slowly he reached up, removed his sunglasses, and began to wipe them off with a handkerchief. Joseph noticed he kept his eyes squinted shut the whole time - light sensitivity? Then the man put them back on, and smirked.
"Without any further ado, we'd like to remind you that we've rented you a pleasant suite in the Raccoon Vista, if you'd like to catch up on your sleep before heading back. Also, we'll have a helicopter standing by for the next forty-eight hours, if you feel the urge to remain in town before returning home." Joseph wondered why there was so much fuss over a eighty mile drive, and professed as much.
"We take care of our own here at Umbrella, Mr. Games. And you're now an honorary member, so to speak. We sincerely appreciate what you've made possible for both our companies." The man reached out his hand. "It's been a pleasure, Mr. Games."
Joseph stuck out his hand, paused, his head cocked sideways. "I'm not sure I caught your name." The man's face tightened up, and for a second Joe was able to see the bright red reflection of the sun in his glasses.
"Wesker. Albert Wesker, Head of Liasons for Umbrella Corporation." Joe nodded, turned around to leave the board room.
white
"Arrrrrgh, fuck!" Joseph yelled out, jumping up suddenly. He felt breasts crushed against his right arm, before the body they were attached to fell backwards from his sudden motion.
"What the hell, Joseph!" the limp form cried out, standing up. Joseph cocked his head sideways, trying to make out the form. Slowly, the angry face came into focus, belonging to one Elizabeth Hunter. She held up a bottle of whiskey, more than half of which was gone. "You made me spill most of it!"
Joseph groaned, leaned forward. "I didn't know you were a drinking woman." She grabbed his collar, dragged him upwards, causing a burning sensation to spread along his arm.
"For your information, this bottle belongs to Mr. Tanner, and I was using it to sterilize your shoulder." She glanced at the shoulder, grimaced. "And now you've gone and ripped the stiches Dr. Brown put in."
Joe looked around, confused. "Stitches? How long have I been out? And where is everyone?"
"You've been comatose for almost six hours. As for the others... Dr. Brown decided to lead them on an expedition to get medicine from the pharmacy." She gestured towards a map Joseph had never noticed before. "According to this, the pharmacy is only four aisles away from here. They left about fifteen minutes ago, so they should be back any time now."
Joseph stared hard at the map, gulped. "This is not good." Elizabeth raised an eyebrow. "This map isn't accurate at all, it must be left over from the last store remodel. Pharmacy is over here now." He pressed a finger down on a small square on the other side of the map. "And this..." he pointed to the pharmacy as shown on the map, "happens to be the Site-to-Store delivery area."
"So, there might be medication not yet unloaded, or something." He shook his head, pointed to the map, at a small line in the left wall of the old pharmacy.
"See that crease? That's the original reason that was a pharmacy, and why it became STS." He looked at her expectantly. "Bay doors. Which, since the remodel, haven't been closable for some reason. We've had to station door greeters there in the past to keep people from walking in through them, stealing products off the shelf, and walking right back out. We were supposed to have a repairman in next month to fix them, but..." he shook his head. "Right now, there's a permanently open door in this Wal-Mart, and our clever doctor just lead our entire survivor's group to it."
He spat towards the ground, angrily. "See, this is why I fucking hate doctors."