Disclaimer: I don't own anything in the below piece of fiction, Capcom does.

Warning: Violence, Character death

Authors Note: Here it is, ladies and gents. The mansion incident Part 1. Enjoy.

Chapter 39- Death

A man's dying is more the survivors' affair than his own. ~Thomas Mann~

He was lost.

He had turned a corner and come across another dead end—another locked door. He tried to convince himself that he was on the right track, and if he just turned another corner he would come to the right place. To a haven among all of the terror he was experiencing. But that corner that had meant so much to his well-being turned out to once again harbour a demon—a walking, shambling, corpse.

The stench of death was overwhelming in the mansion, and he felt sick and disgusted. When he shot that first bullet, when it sprayed the rotting brain matter of that person—no, no, they weren't people anymore, they were monsters, stop giving them a face—against the wall, Chris wanted to be sick. He wanted to vomit up whatever was left in his stomach as the body fell, and despite trying to disconnect from what he had done, he couldn't help but think he had killed a person.

But those things… those zombies. They killed without regret. Their lives had become nothing more than a shell of an existence, one that had no mercy, no regrets. There was no mercy given to Kenneth. Or Joseph. Or even Edward and Kevin.

Would they show mercy towards Jill and Wesker? What about Barry? God damn it, where was everyone?

They had split up, but Chris hadn't counted on getting so terribly lost and separated from everyone. He had been asked to investigate the gunshot after… after those dogs. This place was supposed to be a safe place from the horrors outside; but it had all turned into one disgusting, reality-based nightmare.

When he had seen Kenneth's body being destroyed, devoured by that creature, Chris panicked, his mind telling him to run and never come back. But he froze, and watched as the creature turned on him, its flesh hanging off of its face, the lips pulled back, showing teeth covered in the blood of his friend, a horrible, horrible smile permanently etched upon its face…

He tried to reach for his gun, but realized in that instance that he had dropped it—forgot it outside with the rest of those creatures when he had run out of bullets trying to save Jill. Jesus Christ, that was stupid. He let everything get to him and almost got killed because of it.

He had managed to get away in time and headed back to meet Jill and Wesker, only they had gone missing as well. All that was left was Jill's custom STARS gun from Kendo's gun shop. Deciding that finding Jill and Wesker was the best solution, Chris had tried to push past the blinding terror he felt every time he thought of his fallen comrades, and stumbled about the dark hallways in the maze-like mansion, desperately trying to keep himself together as he killed those creatures when they got too close.

Did their families know what had become of them? What would happen if he got bit? Would he, too, succumb to whatever it was they had been infected with? It almost physically hurt him to pull the trigger on a face that once smiled, once laughed and talked, cried and displayed emotions. But he had to do it—it was kill or be killed, and Chris was not going down without a fight.

Despite the agony he felt, there were little things here and there that eased some of his worries. As he worked his way around, discovering rooms and orienting himself, he found a few magnum shells in the hallway, and recognized that they belonged to Barry's prized gun. He was still alive… for now. Taking out another zombie, Chris stepped over the body carefully, and pressed himself against the door at the end of the L-shaped corridor, listening for signs of life… or death. Hearing nothing, he tried the door handle next, finding that most of the doors were locked. Soon he was going to start breaking them down.

Luckily, this one was unlocked, and Chris opened it carefully, his borrowed gun with six bullets left in it resting in his hand, giving him courage. Walking down the light hallway, Chris felt the carpet sag under his weight, and saw dust come up from it. How long had this place been abandoned for? Turning the corner, he pointed his gun down when he saw movement, and was about to shoot when the person turned around, revealing big, worried blue eyes.

"Chris?"

"Rebecca?" he said, suddenly finding himself able to breathe as his name was called out by a human voice. But that relief soon faded as he looked down at the floor to see she was cradling someone's head in her lap. Rushing forward, Chris held back a gasp as he saw Richard lying there, giant puncture marks on his chest. There was blood everywhere, and he could see small, blue veins running out of the wound itself, mixed with puss and a putrid stench.

"He was attacked by a snake," Rebecca said, her voice soft as Richard struggled to breathe, his body trembling. "The poison has taken effect and I don't know how long he'll last without treatment."

Pushing back the panic that had set in, Chris went into autopilot and began working out a way in which Richard could be helped. "Can you save him if you had the right stuff?"

"Probably," she said, wincing as he let out a strangled moan. He looked ready to say something, but she stopped him. "He needs serum, but I don't have any left."

The closet under the stairs. Chris remembered finding that room and saw a crap ton of Umbrella medicinal supplied jammed in the cupboards and on dusty shelves. Maybe they had some serum there?

"I think I know where I can find some," he said, already standing up from his crouched position. "I'll be right back."

"Hurry," Rebecca called after him as he took off, moving through the hallways with a newfound purpose. Thankfully he didn't get lost on his way there, and rushed into the medical supply room as soon as he got down the stairs, taking them two at a time. When he found what he believed would work, Chris rushed back, thankful that he didn't run into any more zombies on his way back—Richard looked like he didn't have a lot of time, and if he got caught up with one of those things trying to get at him, he'd waste too much time.

Returning in less than five minutes, Chris passed the bottle to Rebecca, who seemed genuinely surprised to see he had returned so quickly.

"Thank you," she said, pulling her med-pack around to the front, unzipping the little white bag before pulling out a syringe. Flicking the top off, she plunged the needle into the top of the serum's container, taking in the amount she probably thought fit for what Richard needed. Chris watched in fascination as Rebecca worked quickly and effectively, the nerves she had shown before going away as she got to work.

Injecting Richard, she slowly gave him the medicine, and already Chris could see the furrowing of his brow go away, the painkillers Rebecca had given him beforehand kicking in. "He needs to rest," she said, snapping Chris' attention away from the brutality of his attack, the wounds still open and bleeding. "Can you take me to that medical supply room?"

"Yeah, of course," he said, helping Richard up as Rebecca tried to brace him with her tiny frame.

"T-thanks," Richard said, his voice weak and soft as they slowly moved to the supply room, once again with little trouble from any walking dead. Chris was beginning to take pleasure in the little things in life with this fucked up mission, that was for sure.

When they finally arrived at the medical room, Chris helped Richard down on to the cot, and was about to ask what had happened before Richard fell asleep, his body finally giving out on him. Touching his forehead, Chris could feel a fever developing even through his thick gloves, and was once again about to ask what was going on before Rebecca was pushing him gently out of the way, and seemed to go about dressing the wounds, supplies from different cupboards in her hands.

"I'm sorry, I need room," she said, beginning to work on cleaning everything. Standing off to the side, Chris watched the process, but wasn't really thinking about it. He was too busy trying to work out what had happened, and desperately tried to not think about how the likelihood of finding more surviving members was dwindling. First Joseph, Kevin, Edward, and Kenneth, and now Richard was knocking on death's door.

Why was this happening? Why was this place such a house of horrors—a place that was straight from the movies? This wasn't supposed to be real—things like this didn't happen in real life, but here they were, desperately fighting for their lives as others fell around them, their bodies mutilated as creatures—

"Chris!"

Snapping his attention away from the typewriter he had been staring at, Chris came face-to-face with Rebecca, her hands on her hips as she looked him over carefully. "Are you all right?" she asked, and Chris took the time to look over her shoulder to see Richard was patched up and resting.

"Y-yeah, I'm fine," he lied, blinking a few times. "Tell me what happened."

Sighing, Rebecca nodded and went to sit on the chair near the desk, her small hands locking together. "Did you want the long or short story?"

**XX**

Bravo Team had been trapped for almost an entire day, running around trying to survive. The helicopter malfunctioned a little bit before their connection had been lost. After making an emergency landing, they split up, much like Alpha team had, in hopes of finding something. In that instance Kevin must have been taken out while he waited with the helicopter. Their journey took them to the Ecliptic Express, where Rebecca claimed she had survived on her own, running away most of the time in an effort to stay alive and sane. When she lived through the night, she found what she believed to be refuge in the mansion… but once again, she was sucked back into the nightmare.

Chris was just glad Rebecca had managed to get through everything relatively unscathed. She has a few cuts on her arms, and was limping a little due to her feet being bruised and blistered, but for the most part, she was fine.

Unfortunately, Richard was not. He woke up halfway through Rebecca's explanation, and stated that they had met up in the mansion. Sticking together, things had worked out until a giant snake attacked the two of them, and Richard had to be the damn hero that he was. When the exchange of stories was complete, Chris decided he would go see if he could find anyone else still alive. While Bravo team seemed completely ravaged by the night before, he was holding out hope that he would find Enrico and Forest still alive. Having been given Richard's radio, Chris hooked it up to his belt and slid a new clip into his ammo pack, before leaving Rebecca to look after Richard, pretty much ordering them not to leave the safety of the medical room.

Continuing his exploration, Chris ran into a few more locked doors and a couple zombies, before he returned to the main entrance hall, the sound of thunder echoing loudly throughout the marble hallway. Taking a steady breath, Chris surveyed the upper area, grateful to see there were still no signs of wandering undead in this area—a surprise, for sure. He was beginning to expect a zombie to be in every single room he entered, and was, for the most part, unfortunately right.

Another flash of lightening illuminated the hallway for a brief moment, and Chris saw a door hidden in the shadows in the corner of the room. Approaching it slowly, he jiggled the handle, and realized it, too, was locked. Letting out a frustrated sound, he banged his fist hard against the expensive door, before finally having enough. Stepping back, he braced himself carefully before slamming his foot against the door, making it rattle in its frame. Repeating the process, Chris kicked it a few more times, and finally the sound of splintered wood carried through to him. Inspecting the door, he saw he had managed to break the door from its lock—the lock itself was still wedged in the door. Rattling it, Chris pulled it out of the rectangular lock and tossed it in the hallway, before pushing the door open.

He knew that his little fit probably caused a lot of racket, and every single enemy in this God forsaken mansion knew exactly where he was, but he was sick and tired of all the locked doors, and it was an excuse to release some stress. He had found a few keys around the place, but they never seemed to open anything he needed to be opened. The room led him out to a balcony area, and Chris gladly stepped out into the fresh air, the smell of ozone and rain invading his senses. No longer was the stench of death overwhelming him, and he took a second to stand near the ledge, scanning the area down below to see the glow of eyes between the trees. The dogs were still wandering about in an unnerving way that pack animals seemed to do.

Moving away from the railing, he ran a hand through his hair, his gun resting at his side as he weighed his options. If he found everyone alive and safe, how were they going to get out of this mess? Those dogs outside prevented any real easy escape, and even if they did get past the dogs, how long would they be wandering in the forest looking for a way back to Raccoon? He still couldn't believe Brad just took off like that; leaving everyone to their fate.

"Fucking chicken shit," Chris growled out, ripping a twig off of a dead potted plant, twisting it around before tossing its crumpled pieces over the edge. Taking a deep breath, Chris closed his eyes for a moment before opening them to continue on his way. Deciding to further explore the balcony that seemed to wrap around the mansion, Chris ventured forward slowly, his combat knife now resting reassuringly in his hand. He was running out of bullets, and his handgun had soon become a last resort weapon. He was holding out hope that he'd run into someone else and be able to regroup with them back at the medical room.

Perhaps Barry heard the racket he made in the main hall and would come looking for him, or maybe…

Forest.

"Oh, Jesus Christ."

Holding back the overwhelming urge to vomit, Chris stayed rooted on the spot, his entire body stiff as he stared at the obviously dead body of his best friend. Sitting limply in a patio chair, Forest's body was pale, his lips blue and eyes glossed over as he stared at the floor, congealed blood all over him and the floor. He had been attacked and left for dead.

He was dead.

And here he was… no doubt about it. He was dead and had been for some time. Holding his emotions back, Chris finally moved forward, his feet heavy underneath him as he stopped in front of the body, standing there, staring at the top of his bowed head before he dropped down onto his knees in front of him.

He had seen many of his comrades dead tonight, all of them gruesome and horrible… but this one hit the reality home. Before it was just a nightmare, and despite everything that had happened, he had held out hope that it really was just some fucked up dream, and he'd wake up to see the sun peeking through his blinds, and the smell of Wesker's cologne in his nose.

But instead, all he saw was darkness and death, the only smell that of rotting flesh and dust. Forest… He was really, truly gone, and just like Chris, he wasn't going to wake up. This wasn't a dream or a nightmare, or whatever you wanted to call it. This was real. Everyone was dying around him or getting lost… and he couldn't just wake up and start over. This sort of thing was forever.

Squeezing the handle of the knife, Chris bit his bottom lip—hard—and tried to push past the emotions he was feeling to figure out what happened to Forest. It looked like he had been pecked to death by… crows? He remembered seeing a few in the mansion, their red eyes inspecting him with that eerie intelligence most birds seemed to have. They paid him no mind, but perhaps Forest had done something to incur their wrath? Chris didn't want to think about it too long, and simply stared at Forest's combat boot, trying to imagine it without blood splattered on it. Taking a shaky breath, he finally stood up and pushed back the tears with the palm of his hand.

"Rest in peace, buddy," he said, turning around quickly, desperate to get out of there. Where the cool, refreshing air had brought peace before, it now left Chris feeling raw and exposed, the sudden reality almost too much to bear.

**XX**

Chris ended up sitting on the steps of the main hall for a time, his head ducked between his legs as he tried to keep himself calm. Forest may be lost, but that didn't mean there was no hope left. For all he knew, all of Alpha team was all right (minus Joseph, of course), and if he could just find Wesker and Jill, then they could meet with Rebecca and Richard and go find Barry and Enrico. He figured moving in numbers was best.

But at the moment, he felt terribly alone.

Standing up, Chris took out his knife again and bounced the handle in his hand, before turning around, intent on returning to the medical room to report what he had found. But when he turned around, he finally took a real look at the painting in front of him.

Squinting his eyes, Chris saw a small gold door handle on what he thought was a simple painting, and realized it was another door. Opening it with ease, he found himself pushing past what he had seen in order to concentrate on more pressing matters. Seeing a zombie shuffling around in a courtyard, he closed the door quietly and avoided the monster as he stepped down the stone steps, inspecting his new area. He was once again outside, but this time in what he suspected was the 'backyard' of the mansion. Keeping his distance from the corpse, he watched the monster shuffle slowly towards him for a moment before turning his attention to the forest in the background. There was the same, eerie silence in the woods up ahead, the same with the rest of Raccoon Forest, but there was something else down there that made Chris feel like it was different.

Finally returning his gaze to the courtyard, he saw the zombie was getting too close and left his position to head towards the black rot iron gate that led into the forest, his curiosity getting the better of him. He knew he should probably try and find some backup before he wandered further away from the mansion and into unknown territory, but he found himself drawn to whatever was down the twisted, winding path through the forest. Closing and shutting the gate tight, Chris made sure the zombie that had been following him couldn't get through, and continued on his way, his boots getting soaked in the puddles of water that had formed. Passing some crows in a graveyard, he paused for a second to look over the graves, wondering more and more what the hell was going on here.

But he didn't have time to dwell on the subject of unknown graves littering an unknown mansion's backyard, for one of the crows started to act up, its cawing ringing through Chris' head as it stared at him. Soon all of the other crows were making sound, and Chris found himself really wanting to leave. Standing up and backing away from one of the graves, Chris hurried to the other iron gate at the end of the path, his heart thudding in his chest as the crows continued to flutter about, their intentions clear.

As soon as he shut the gate, he hurried down the slippery mud path until he had cleared enough distance between him and the crows, their incessant cawing no longer so close and imminent in their approach. Resting against a tree, Chris snagged a twig and began to try and clean some of the mud off the bottom of his boots, already finding it difficult to walk as the grooves became caked over with slippery mud. Snapping the twig when he was done with his first boot, he swore softly, and was just about to give up when the crackle of his radio carried through to him, making him literally almost have a heart attack.

Fumbling with the device, Chris pulled it off of his vest and pressed it close to his ear, the reception incredibly bad in the woods.

"Come on, come on," he mumbled, bouncing a little as the crackling continued. He was desperate to hear contact from someone, and prayed to whatever gods were out there that someone would come help. Finally, a voice carried through, and Chris' heart soared when it was a familiar voice.

Wesker.

"Don't go… woods… can't be… chains… dangerous…" The message was fuzzy at best, and Chris alternated between pressing it against his ear to catch the message, and lowering it a bit as if he was going to say something. When the message finally stopped, he pressed the button on the side of the radio and tried to make contact with Wesker.

"Wesker, are you there?" he called into the device, hoping it could carry through. At the same time he was looking around frantically, figuring Wesker saw him trudge into the woods if he was sending such a message. But after trying for a couple of minutes, Chris realized nothing was getting through, and clipped the device back to himself, suddenly feeling defeated once more.

But that message had told him two things. One, Wesker was still alive and seemed to be doing well for himself. That meant there was a possibility Jill was alive too—she had probably gone off with him when he had gone to the dining room. Secondly, the message did a good job of scaring the shit out of him, without giving him any real information.

"Don't go… chains. Woods?" Repeating a few of the words he had managed to catch, he stared down the foggy path, clenching and unclenching his fist around the handle of his knife. Something dangerous was down there… but how did Wesker know? And what was it, exactly? If Wesker was sending the message, he had obviously encountered whatever it was down there. And if he had, was he in trouble too? Shaking past the dread that overcame him, Chris ventured down the path anyways, despite Wesker's orders.

After all, he never was one for taking them.

Wandering for a good five minutes, he managed to get past another large gate by climbing over it with only minor difficulty. He realized there was probably some special way to get it to unlock, but found himself wearing thin of patience as he stumbled about. When he got to the other side, he kicked the gate open in case he had to make a quick getaway, before venturing further down the path.

It had started to get colder the further he went, and Chris clutched his flashlight as it also grew darker, the only forms of light around him being his pitiful little flashlight, and the full moon that was bright overhead. A few times he had to stop and shine his flashlight on a tree, just to make

sure there was nothing behind it, but for the most part, the only demons that stalked him were those in his own mind.

When he finally came to the end of the twisting path, he stopped in front of a rundown cabin—if you could even call it a cabin. It looked more like a shack; the old side boards rotting and falling off, exposing some of the insides of the place itself. The roof was sagging in the center, and moss and a few mushrooms grew on top, clogging the drainpipe and making the wood soggy in addition to rotting. Glancing over his shoulder, he made sure nothing had followed him before he wandered around the cabin slowly, inspecting the area carefully from the outside before deciding to enter. He couldn't shake off the feeling he was being watched as he entered though, his gloved hand pressing the old door open.

The loud creak that accompanied the action made Chris wince a little, once again his presence being declared to the entire population of Raccoon.

"If I had known I was going to be stuck in a creepy mansion with zombies, I'd have brought my can of oil to put on these damn door hinges," he mumbled under his breath. Stepping on a creaky floorboard as he entered, Chris couldn't help but roll his eyes. Perfect.

Shutting the door behind him, he decided to take his gun out for this little adventure, and re-sheathed his knife before pulling out his borrowed gun, his last clip resting in it. Pushing away the feeling of being watched, Chris inspected the main room of the cabin, finding it slightly odd that a fire was burning.

Did that mean there was intelligent life around here? Kicking a piece of bark into the fire, Chris moved towards the back of the house, climbing up a few steps onto an inside deck, which led him to a back room. Keeping the gun raised, he turned the last corner in the small hallway, and expected to encounter something that would explain the fire and the cabin itself. Only he was left with a dead end and a crank resting in the dirt, the metal rusting from age. Putting his gun back in his leg holster, he moved forward and knelt down to pick the crank up, tossing it between his hands.

"This had better not lead me to another puzzle," Chris grumbled, standing up. Stuffing the crank underneath the belt that wrapped around his vest, he turned back around and decided that both Wesker and the 'Thing With Chains', as he liked to call it, were nowhere to be seen, and therefore he had nothing left to do here. Moving back into the main room, Chris heard the clink of chains too late, and found himself unable to think properly as a blinding pain shot through his skull, before the world went black.

**XX**

For a second, Chris thought he had died. That whatever had happened to him had killed him, and he had gone to hell. His head was screaming at him, every little sound in the place he was in making his head pound and his eyes throb behind his eyelids. He could hear the crackle of a fire underneath the sound of blood pumping through his skull, and he was aware that someone else was in the room.

Or something else.

Cracking his eyes open slowly, he let out a soft moan as he did so, the light from the fire beside him sending a stabbing pain into his eyes. Willing the pain to go away, he kept his eyes open and stared up at the ceiling, when he remembered where he was.

Yup, he was in hell.

Taking a deep breath, he sat up slowly, and was about to take another rest as the sudden head rush hit him, but all thoughts of sitting still went out the door as soon as he gazed upon what had knocked him out. It was hideous. Truly hideous. Chris thought he had seen the worst when he'd laid eyes upon the undead that covered the mansion, but nothing could prepare him for what 'Thing With Chains' actually was. Hunched over in front of him was a deformed human, her (or perhaps his?) wrists locked together with a large cement block, chains hanging off of the block to attach to her feet. Her hands were long and thin, fingernails looking more like claws than anything else, the nails cracked and caked in filth. Her feet fared no better, and Chris could see heavy callouses on them as if she hadn't worn shoes in a very long time. But he didn't have time to dwell on any of that, for her face was what was garnering the most attention.

Or perhaps it was more fitting to say her faces were garnering the attention. Numerous faces were sewn to her face and hunched back, all of them twisted in a silent scream for eternity. A few of the places where the attachment had taken place obviously hadn't healed properly, and a rotting stink came from the open wounds that seemed present all over her. Chris didn't know where her real face was, but that didn't seem to matter to her or to him at the moment.

Standing up quickly, he momentarily forgot about the blinding pain he was experiencing, and backed up as the creature approached him, her hands dragging the block on the ground. He didn't know what she was going to do, but had a pretty good idea as she lifted her hands up, swinging the block at him while she let out a terrifying scream. Ducking the blow, Chris stumbled away from her, and noticed the door she had been blocking was now free. Not even looking back, he shot out the door and back into the woods, the cold hitting his skin like a thousand little knives while pain blossomed on the back of his head yet again. But the loud scream of the creature inside the cabin told him he wasn't safe, and he headed back up the path, not daring to look back to see if he was being chased.

Slipping a few times, he fell into the mud, his knee pads getting caked in dirt, but he didn't care. Trudging along, he didn't stop until he was back in the main courtyard of the mansion. Slamming the gate closed, he slowly trudged past the zombie that had decided to get itself stuck in a dead garden patch, and opened the door to take him back into the mansion. He didn't stop moving until he began to find it difficult, and finally collapsed on the main entrance way's steps, the very place he had taken a rest just a few… hours ago? How long had he been out?

Slumping against the banister, Chris let out a short huff, his head screaming at him as the adrenaline wore off. Carefully lifting a hand up, he felt the back of his head, and pulled his hand away to see blood coating his fingertips. He felt a little ill looking at his own blood, but realized that head wounds always bled far worse than they actually were… right?

Trying to stay awake, he rubbed his eyes and moved to stand up, drowsiness overtaking him as his head begged him to stop moving. Holding onto the banister, Chris contemplated his options, and figured he would try and make it back to the medical room where hopefully Rebecca could help him out. He didn't have any painkillers or medical supplies on him whatsoever, and was beginning to hate his lack of preparation.

Turning around, he made move to go upstairs when the creak of the dining room door carried through to him, followed up by a rough slam and heavy footsteps on the marble floor. Turning around quickly, Chris blacked out for a second, and fell down onto the stairs with a heavy thud. Realizing he was probably dead, he fumbled with trying to locate his knife with his eyes closed, and succeeded in finding it before a strong hand grabbed his wrist, stopping him from pulling it out.

"What is wrong, Chris?"

Opening his eyes, Chris' vision blurred before he managed to make out dark shades and brilliant blonde hair. "W-Wesker?" he croaked out, relief flooding his system as the familiar sight of Wesker washed over him. Slumping forward, Chris stuffed his face against Wesker's shoulder, letting himself show that moment of weakness. "I was so worried."

"What happened?" Wesker asked, his hand coming up to touch the back of Chris' head, an unpleasant hum rumbling forth from his chest as he obviously discovered the blood.

"Went into the woods," he mumbled, his voice hurting his head. "W-was attacked by something."

"That was very foolish of you for going into the woods. Did you not receive my message?"

"The garbled one on the broken radio? Yeah, bits and pieces," he said, not wanting to leave the safe embrace of Wesker.

Sighing, Wesker's fingers gently touched the back of Chris' neck, as if to soothe him before he slowly pulled away, hands braced against his shoulders to keep him upright. "You need medical attention."

"Rebecca… She's in the medical room."

"Rebecca?"

"Y-yeah… Her and Richard. They're still alive," he said, trying to focus on Wesker.

There was silence for a moment, before Wesker spoke just as he began helping Chris stand. "Take me to this medical place. Perhaps she can help you." Chris tried to nod in agreement, but just ended up feeling nauseous and opted to just use Wesker as support as they slowly went back to the medical supply room, Chris actually surprised he had remembered where it was.

Once they entered, Chris had expected to see Rebecca and Richard there, but was greeted with an empty room.

"Where did they go?" he mumbled, wincing as Wesker slammed the door shut. Locking it, Wesker then led Chris to the cot in the corner, and helped him sit down before he went to investigate all of the bottles and drawers in the room.

"Are you sure they were still alive and you weren't… hallucinating?"

Rubbing his eyes, Chris let out a soft huff before answering, his head swimming. "Yeah, positive. See all the bandages on the shelf? Rebecca used those to help Richard," he grumbled out, squinting as the light in the room stung his eyes.

"What happened to Richard?" he asked, moving forward with a bottle in one hand, and some gauze and a smaller bottle in the other. Kneeling in front of Chris, Wesker opened the small bottle and pulled out a few pills, shoving them in Chris' hand.

"Take these to help with the pain."

Nodding, Chris swallowed them without water, and closed his eyes as Wesker began prodding him again. "He was attacked by a snake."

"A snake?"

"A giant snake, apparently. They said it happened in a library near the dining hall. Richard was pretty badly hurt, but Rebecca managed to patch him up."

"And they were supposed to wait here?" Wesker ignored Chris' hiss as the rubbing alcohol was applied to the wound.

"Y-yeah, I have no idea where they went," he said, opening his eyes to watch Wesker cut out a swatch of gauze to put over the cut and rising bump. "Speaking of which, where is Jill?"

Raising an eyebrow, Wesker paused his ministrations for a moment. "We got separated."

"How?"

"Numerous circumstances were stacked against us. Essentially, a few of those undead abominations came bursting through a washroom door when we walked past. After we killed and inspected the bodies, Jill went back to look for you… and I haven't seen her since."

"I found her gun," he said, pulling it out of the holster while Wesker resumed making the makeshift bandage.

"Where?"

"In the main hall… near where you two left. I don't know—she must have dropped it in the confusion."

"Where is your gun?" he asked, going to stick the bandage on.

Shrugging, Chris let out a deep breath as Wesker touched the bump again, but found it not hurting as much as it could. Those painkillers were already kicking in and doing their job. Thank God for Umbrella. "I dropped it… outside."

Chris looked up to see Wesker glaring at him from behind his sunglasses. "You're an idiot, Chris."

"Thanks… Have you seen Barry or Enrico?"

"Why Barry and Enrico? I thought you would be concerned with everyone," he asked, cleaning up.

"Everyone else is dead."

"Everyone?"

"Yeah," he mumbled, moving to grab Wesker's hand in his own, squeezing gently. "I found Kenneth, Forest, and Joseph's bodies. Rebecca confirmed Edward and Kevin's death, and… well, everyone else is either missing or in this room."

Squeezing Chris' hand gently, Wesker moved forward to kiss him quickly, their lips touching for a brief but calm moment. It was enough to stop Chris from shaking.

Taking his hand back, Wesker fumbled around in his pockets before he pulled out two handgun clips, and a couple of shotgun rounds. Pushing them into Chris' hands, Wesker stood up and tossed the painkiller bottle at Chris, too.

"Take those as needed, but don't overdose. Too many could make you fall asleep and we wouldn't want that," he instructed as Chris fumbled around with the new items.

"I don't have a shotgun," he said when he finally dropped the contents into his lap. Looking up at Wesker, Chris frowned slightly.

"Keep them just in case," he said, giving Chris one last look before he turned around and headed to the door.

"Wait, where are you going?" he called out, his head throbbing as his voice raised in tone. "We should stick together."

"I'm just going to look for Rebecca and Richard—they can't have gone far. You rest for another fifteen minutes before thinking about going anywhere," he said, opening the door. He didn't get halfway out, though, before Chris called out for him again, desperately not wanting to see him leave.

"What is it, Chris?"

"I love you," he said, voice strong despite the hesitancy he still found gripping him when speaking those words aloud. Nothing was said for a moment, before Wesker turned around and left the room.

A closed door was his reply.

As you can probably see, I've tried to meld both Jill and Chris' story while still having everything make sense. I added scenes, got rid of some, etc. I didn't want to just re-write the games because anyone can go play them, so I tried to make it a little more... original. I also melded RE1 and RE: Remake. So no crimson heads, but Lisa is present! Anyways, the next part of the mansion will be posted in 10 days!