DISCLAIMER: Resident Evil © Capcom
PLOT: Post Resident Evil 5 - The world works to eradicate bio-terrorism. Not everything ended in Africa. Concerning Sherry Birkin, the girl who disappeared.
A/N: "Empty" will be my re-occurring theme in this chapter.
Before Sherry had left the estate, before she had her belongings re-packed and her flight ticket secured, before she locked the mansion and left it again in its hollow silence, she went into his room.
It was further down than her own and much larger. She hadn't even been sure she wanted to look inside. It was ridiculous, but a part of her contemplated just leaving it undisturbed. After a brief hesitation, she pushed open the door.
Inside was just the same as her own. Everything was the way she had remembered last she saw it.
She browsed past his sparse living quarters, musing anew at how empty it had always appeared. The gray coating of dust hardly helped the appeal. She brushed her fingers over his desk as she approached, and paused when she noticed the pair of glasses. She took them. She turned them this way that way and blew the gray coating off of them.
***
"What are you doing?"
"I can't sleep," she admitted, "nightmares."
"What are you doing in -here-?"
She wrung her small hands. "Can I sleep here?"
He regarded her from his desk. Lenses as devoid as his reply."Absolutely not."
***
She had caught herself gazing into the reflective black and she replaced them quickly on the desk. Deciding it was better she pack her belongings, she crept out of the room and sealed the door closed. She left the room to its eternal silence.
A week after she had left her university, Sherry was back. Back with a transfer application and Tricell Pharmaceutical listed as her only requested destination to complete her last year of studies. Maybe it was this singular interest that landed her the position as one of a four student group approved to intern at the pharmaceutical company. Maybe it was her persistence with her professors and administrations department. Regardless, a month later all four were starting their internship studies amongst the staff of Tricell's biology laboratories.
Her first night had been oddly detached. Detached in a manner she had since become after her first day back at the old estate. She couldn't place it or explain it, and as such she simply dismissed it. The first night spent in their student quarters, she had found herself sitting at the cramped, little desk, staring blankly at the glowing face of her computer. Her email stared empty back.
***
"Can I email you when I get there?"
His dark glasses turned to regard her directly. "I believe I made it clear that I will not be responding."
"I know," she frowned, "but you can read them at least, can't you?"
They stared at her, devoid of emotion.
She twisted her hands together. "I'm a little nervous."
"There's no reason for that."
"I'm going to be alone again."
"You've always been alone," he was so empty, "Sherry."
Her eyes flew to his face, searching for the fine print only she had become familiar with.
"What about you?"
He watched her calmly. He was so absent.
"If I've mislead you, I apologize, but there's nothing here for you, dear."
***
She stared at the empty letter before her.
Her face was awash in the screen's hollow glow.
The void stared back.
***
She was off on her own. She was old enough to start looking after herself. She was nervous, shy. He had told her she was different, but she wanted nothing more than to be like everyone else.
'This is my first night over. I'm so nervous. We talk about home. I'm trying to get used to being Shelly. The teachers seem nice. The beds smell nice. I hope you're okay, wherever you are.
-ps. I said I have an uncle. Is that okay? I bet you're far off in Peru.'
She had found she wasn't exactly like everyone else. She had a taint about her. Something from her past she could never fully escape. However, she wasn't as different as she had feared. She melded into her new life, and the longer she remained away, the more she forgot about the past.
'Sorry I haven't sent you a message in so long. I've been really busy over here! Finals keep my hands tied.
-ps. Possibly China.'
Life was stable and predictable. There was a future and she could plan out the possibilities. Sometimes, she wondered if her dreams weren't just that – dreams.
'Are you still alive?
-ps. Indonesia'
***
Sherry blinked suddenly, staring at the words on her screen. Her eyes burned and she blinked again. The weary fire lessened. She hadn't remembered typing anything. Her letter stared back at her from amidst the glow.
'I went home and you're dead.
-Africa.'
She stared at the words she hadn't remembered typing.
"Shelly?"
Sherry jumped. Turning, she found Greg peering at her from his bunk.
"Everything okay?"
She nodded dumbly. "Yes."
"It's late." he pointed out.
"I'm coming to bed."
She turned back to her letter, regarding it with detached curiosity. She debated, considered for a moment, hit "send" as she shut the computer with a soft click. She crawled up to her bunk.
She lay there for another hour, staring up at the blank ceiling. She stared up at all the little imperfections, all the little grooves, and tried to recall his face. There was nothing but a vague memory. She tried to remember the mass murderer, the one who had brought her home, as she grew up alone and forgotten. Almost forgotten. She watched the ceiling above and realized she had sent the very last of her email letters.
It was perplexing and she didn't know how to feel about it. Letters to an empty place.
***
"Can I sleep here?"
He regarded her from his desk. Lenses as devoid as his reply."Absolutely not."
She fought back the urge to cry at her helplessness. At her situation in life. It wasn't fair. She hadn't done anything to deserve any of this.
"Please," she begged, heard her voice crack, "I won't bother you."
He only sat there, face so irritably blank.
"Y-you don't even use your bed!"
She felt the burning in her eyes. He was just sitting there, watching her. She was going to start crying...
"If you disturb my work," he warned, "I'm going to throw you out."
***
Through hazy eyes, she stared at the ceiling and tried to remember the man with hands stained with blood. An empty comfort that had been so familiar while it had lasted. Her empty comfort. Was there emptiness because of her loss, or the realization she was just as alone now as she had been with him?
Her eyes grew heavy, her mind drifted further, and she slipped into dreams of far away places. Of vast, dry lands, flat and forever, with dry empty skies reaching far above.
Schumann - Opus 15 "Kinderszenen".