1 BIRKIN & WONG 1
Within a moment, the blast had knocked me 20 yards away. Time seemed to slow down, and a wrenching pain in my abdomen surged upward into my chest. My hands soaked in my own, warm blood, I fell to the ground. I attempted to slowly crawl away, but just as I began, a boot slammed into my head. I was stopped dead in my tracks, knocked clean unconscious.
By the time I had awoken, I was somewhere completely different. A big oval room, computers, machines and wires strewn about. I myself was trapped in a large cylinder, metal frames with thick, bullet-proof glass between them, enough for me to see my captors- and for them to see me. I was sapped of strength, my wrists sore from the felt straps holding them above me, and my mind hazy, as though I was between the waking world and the dreaming. I was that way for some time, trapped in an unknowable place, stuck between claustrophobia and fear, anger and embitterment.
They prodded me with needles, took samples of my bone marrow, painfully, and extracted who knows what from my spine. Nevertheless, I never saw my captor's faces, and could only theorize silently. One day, I awoke, but rather than the haze I'd grown accustomed to, I was in full control of my faculties. Beyond that, the room was alight, and the men and women who I'd grown used to seeing were all gone. In place of them, blood, bullet casings and bodies. I'd have puked if I hadn't seen similar things before. And, as I began to slip out of my cuffs, a woman stepped forward from the shadows.
I recognized her, even if it had been years. A large coat overtop a red sweater, short hair and tall boots.
She dialed a few buttons on a console near my container, and like that, the door decompressed, raised high above me, my straps releasing. I fell down, landing on my hands and knees, coughing like a sickly leper. I stood myself up, my legs weak and frail, and hobbled to her. I spoke the first words I had in some time,
"You…"
1 NIVANS 1
"Piers, report," His voice rang out from my earpiece. "Nothing so far. Just jungle, jungle, and more jungle," I replied, the Humvee I sat in continuing pace with our convoy. We were deep in Cambodia, another mission. As per usual, command was light on details. "Well keep an eye out. Chances are, the infected have already mutated to adapt to the jungle environment, could be hiding just about anywhere. "Just in that moment, an explosion beneath the Humvee ahead-a mine- halting the convoy.
From the jungle, dozens of bizarrely mutated men and women slowly lumbered out, encircling the convoy. "Jacobsen take the gun!" I shouted, one of the men in the backseat clambering up to the on top of our Humvee. Within seconds gunfire rang out, and bullets shredded the horde. Blackish blood splattered onto the greenery around us, dulling it. Unfortunately, they didn't seem to stop at this. The dozens of infected turned to hundreds, crammed in between our Humvees and the narrow jungle path. The Humvee ahead of us-that had landed on a mine- foolishly began to dive out, trying to escape the horde which had begun to climb through the gunner port into the car. "Goddammit Harrison!" I shouted over my radio, no reply. "What's going on Piers? Report!" Redfield shouted, through my earpiece. "Infected! Dozens of em'!" I replied, shuffling more ammunition up to Jacobsen. "Convoy's stalled, can't get around. AT Mine I think, Harrison is KIA," I answered quickly. And then a scream. I looked up-Jacobsen- an infected bit clean through his neck, his jugular. Blood sprayed out, and Jacobsen slid down into the Humvee. I pulled my pistol, and shot at the infected above me, clearing through him in a few rounds. As he fell, I climbed up into the gunners' seat, and cocked the .
"Anderson, I'll clear a path, just drive!" I shouted down to Anderson, the driver of our Humvee. I began firing as fast as I could, and almost as if a blur, the Humvee led the rest of the convoy out of the path and to our target.
A dingy little manor somewhere in Cambodia, formerly owned by a French Aristocrat- now in the hands of our target. We parked our Humvees, and began to hop out and form up. "Piers- we've got more intel," Redfield spoke. "Good. We need it out here," I replied. "So, these infected come from a mix strain of the T-Virus and some offshoot of the Avian Flu," He said. "So?" I replied swiftly. "Well, it can lead to some decent assumptions about these things, Piers. Based off of that and what we know about the infected sighted, they behave similar to common infected. Slow, lumbering, unable to use tools. They spread the virus via fluid, so expect pustules and boils aplenty."
I began to speak, a little louder, as the squads formed up. "Alright everyone! We've got news. Looks like these bastards spread it via fluid almost exclusively, so no gas to worry about. But they're sure to have pustules and boils- don't let it make contact with you. Blood, bile, or anything of the sort." The twenty or so men in front of me began reloading their rifles, forming up and taking point.
After that, we split into teams of five, and canvased the manor. I and my squad headed up the flank, passing through the swampy, blood soaked field behind the manor to reach a cellar entrance. Our engineer clipped the thick chain and lock on the cellar door, and down we descended. Dank, dark, and the pungent odor of rot invaded our senses, even through our masks. A surprisingly large underground, we cleared room after room, gunning down infected after infected, and eventually made it to the ground floor, with more Intel than we had.
"Come in Command, this is Alpha Squad," I said, pressing my earpiece. "We read you loud and clear Piers, report?" Redfield responded. "We've gathered some more intel. Looks like this fellow was a D-list Exec. He was anonymously delivered the strain while ordering weapons on the black market. Seems the potential was too tempting for him," I said. "Good work. Looks like we've got bigger fish to fry." Redfield responded. I stayed silent. "Piers, I know how you feel. We don't have the luxury of time, if there are any survivors, cleanup crews will rescue them." Redfield replied. "Orders received." I said, understanding but nevertheless saddened.
Redfield had changed a lot, after our last mission together. We'd gone all over- Vietnam, Jordan, and the Philippines. But one mission in particular seemed to have changed him. We'd gone to a place in Mongolia, where we weren't welcome. It seemed the locals couldn't distinguish between the BOWs and comrades. While trying to save a woman, one of the large, lumbering behemoths charged him down. The woman took a knife, pierced him through the gut, and shoved him in front of the damned thing. It charged him down, crushing him under its enormous weight. Twisted his leg, shredded his lungs.
After that day, he took up work behind the lines. But his face after that… So distant. So gone. Not just how he viewed himself, the idea of the "Invincible Chris Redfield" was but a distant memory. He was completely shattered. Growing up, I'd always admired people like Redfield. And the conviction people like him held drew me to the military in the first place.
I drew my rifle, and ensured it was loaded. "Move out men." We ascended to the ground floor.
I established radio contact with the other teams, seems they'd had as much luck as we did. Only one place left- the upper level. We convened in the Entryway, and I led a detachment up the stairs. Five men, rifles in hand. Infected burst through the walls, heavily mutated, smashing through us, knocking our lines out. Narrow corridors, filled with the monstrosities. I watched one man get shredded all to hell, before we gunned the beasts down.
"Move move move!" I shouted, as we split up unwittingly, going different directions. I carefully made my way to the Study, passing through rooms and halls. No infected beyond a certain point, it seemed. We reconvened, and readied ourselves, as I tested the lock. No dice, "Locked," I murmured. Our engineer nodded, and he readied a small explosive. We ducked for cover, as the door lock was annihilated by the bomb. We kicked the door open, only to find our target.
"So we were late to the party, is what you're telling me?" Redfield asked, bitterly.
"In other words, yes. He's already long dead," I answered, carefully looking at the hard drive I'd found. "Nothing else of note." I continued.
That night, at our base in Manilla, I purchased a small laptop from a local electronics store. I carefully plotted out a place of secrecy, and spent the night installing the HDD, before accessing the files. After a bit of digging, I'd determined that the files pertained mostly to the strain of the virus the target had been given. As well, an email that had gone unsent to someone in the BSAA, looking for protection from a non-descript force of some kind.
And, just when I began to wrap up my search, I saw it. Hidden among the folders and behind minor encryption, a single executable. 'What the hell,' I thought, and opened it. A command box appeared, and after some thought, I pressed enter.
A network highway for Umbrella appeared before me, with systems and avenues pertaining to the defunct company's research initiatives. I searched through for a while, finding mostly administrative files and well-known information on strains of the T-Virus, Las Plagas, and other BOWs. And then I saw it- a file labeled "Project Gaia". I opened it, and all that was listed before me was incomprehensible data regarding some sort of virus.
Just listening to myself, I sound crazy, don't I? I suppose in this line of work, it's to be expected. I'm going to meet Chambers soon. Some sort of Biological Research Convention in a town called Tall Oaks.
1 KENNEDY & GRAHAM 1
"What's it been, ten- twelve years?" She asked, softly. "Something like that. Presidential Security Detail? You really decided to go into the Secret Service, huh?" I replied, half-jokingly, half-surprised. "Yeah, couldn't get enough of the action after Spain, despite your protests," She said, chuckling. "So, haven't spoken much to Richardson. What's he like?" I asked. "Pretty solemn guy, I've been on his personal detail about a week, can't tell you much other than he likes his coffee half and half," She replied.
Graham- a long time since I'd seen her. In the time since, I'd been assigned to an entirely new department as Chief by the last President, the Bio Terrorism Threat Assessment Division (BTTAD). Made up of people like me, tough stuff. After we got back to the states all those years ago, she seemed intent on following me around like a puppy for a while-but she soon got bored of that. After about a month I was sent out on another mission somewhere in small town America, and then a few years later I was assigned to the BTTAS.
I saw her one last time- at her father's retirement party, where she spoke to me about joining the Secret Service. Warned her about it, and although I wasn't blunt, I didn't think she was tough enough stuff to do it. She'd survived the cult, yeah, but she fell to the wayside after that. Couldn't stand the sight of blood, and could barely hold a 22 without crumpling like a wet paper towel.
But it seems like she's grown into a fine woman, stronger than I thought.
I seated myself at the table, as did the other guests, as Richardson stepped up to the podium. He began to speak, "Well, I suppose to get the evening started, I'd like to get the important bits out of the way. I've a lot to thank everybody in this room for." I watched, but my peripheral vision caught Ashley standing next to him, trying her best to hold a grin in. I chuckled a bit. It was good to see her grow up, and in some ways, I was quite proud of her.
"With my inauguration coming up in about two weeks, I'd like to make a special toast to the donors behind my campaign. Were it not for you, I wouldn't be standing here today. And- before we do, I'd also like to make this toast out to those in this room who have fought on. We each have our own battles. Our own struggles, some greater, some lesser, but all important in our own eyes. You've done well. Never forget that. Cheers!" He said, lifting his champagne glass into the air.
I lifted mine, and tapped against some posh businessman's glass- and then another. I sat my glass down, and stood up, readjusting my suit, before walking toward the door outside. I quietly stepped out, and walked across the lobby to an open window, seating myself beneath it. The moon- gorgeous, and the smell of oak and fresh water permeated the area. I breathed in a deep, guttural breath, before releasing. I'd wished I was here purely for business, but I'd gotten word that something important was here- at Ivy. Not sure what, but, something important enough that the anonymous individual hacked into the secure BTTAS network and contacted me, personally.
I'd also caught word Rebecca Chambers was in attendance at a Research Convention, just across the campus at another building. I sighed, resting my hands on the window seal, cracking my neck, stretching.
I walked for a while, away from the gala, and out onto the campus square. The campus square was vast, at least a football field twice over, and people scattered across it. Something was… Off. Just as I had begun to make pace, I jolted back- a scream, bloodcurdling, from the square. I dashed over to where the noise came from, but just as I arrived, I realized I was too late. A man- no, a corpse, latched onto another man, mercilessly consuming him.
'Shit.' I muttered, pulling my gun from its holster. Within seconds, my gun was at the monsters head, and the trigger was pulled. It collapsed onto the man it was consuming. Other screams rose out- and smoke began to rise from the ballroom where the gala was being held. I quickly knelt down, and rolled the creature over, getting a look over its shape before proceeding.
Clearly formerly human- torn campus uniform on its body, but elongated, stretched, with long almost metallic claws in place of fingernails, and an enlarged jaw. Giant, pointy teeth dotted in seemingly random patterns throughout its mouth. Its eyes foggy and glazed over. The creature smelt foul, rotted and… Familiar. I gritted my teeth and dashed back to the ballroom, but clearly it was too late. As I shoved passed the stampeding crowd, I walked into a massacre. Dozens of corpses, a fire spreading quickly, and dozens of the monsters wandering, consuming the aforementioned corpses.
I ran, past the tables and dead, firing at the monsters in my way. I made it passed them and through a door in the back, throwing it closed and latching the lock. "Leon!" I turned around quickly, Ashley, pinned beneath one of the creatures. I raised my pistol, and fired into the thing, running to throw it off of her. As I did, the creature began to grow limp, as Ashley groaned, lifting the thing off of her, revealing she'd pierced it's skull with a knife.
"Thanks," She said, somehow frustrated. "What? And- more importantly, where's Richardson?" I asked, realizing she was not with the president. "I don't know. I was just following them. Come on, if we hurry we may catch up, and we could use your help right now!" She said, pulling a pistol from her holster. I nodded in agreement, and we ran down the hall. We were in the kitchen now, but I couldn't be bothered to stop and gander at the luxurious spread of food- we were short on time. Eventually, we slowed down, as the kitchen grew darker. "Got a light?" I asked, to which Ashley nodded, turning on the flashlight attached to her gun.
As she walked, the light shone over something on the ground- and I halted her and knelt down. I dipped the tips of my fingers in it, and smelled. "Blood. We're not alone in here, keep your wits about you, guard up," I said, standing up, cautiously. "Already was, let's keep moving," Ashley replied, as we crossed into the maintenance corridors. It was dark, but we kept good pace, following a trail of blood through the hall, and out of the backdoor, which was left wide open to the smell of smoke, blood, and rot. As we stepped outside, the screams seemed to have dissipated, and we followed the trail further.
Eventually, we encountered it- that's the only way I can truly call it anything at all. Like a tree, as tall as a sequoia, and as sturdy as one too- skin elongated and stretched beyond belief, a face twisted into a crooked smile and a purplish, corpse like complexion. It stood atop an Ivy Campus Police Car, the roof caved in by its weight. I grabbed Ashley and we ducked behind a dumpster, watching on as the beast ripped the corpse of a woman in half, eating her entrails on the spot.
As it finished its meal, I moved my finger over my mouth, signaling to Ashley. She nodded swiftly. We sat like that for a while, the shadow of the creature unmoving- sat perfectly still.
Eventually, after what felt like forever, it released a piercing wail which shattered glass and activated nearby car alarms, before shambling off, leaving cracks in the pavement beneath it. We'd covered our ears, and I nearly fell over, stumbling- my balance and equilibrium gone. It took some rest, but we stood, and as we got our bearings, we heard a low voice between the screeching alarms. "Please… Richardson…" We looked at each other, and then quickly pursued the voice. Saddled between an old sedan and a dented pick-up truck was one of the Secret Service agents on Richardson's detail. Ashley recognized him, and knelt down to the wounded man. A large gash on his shoulder, so large-you could see straight through, and the bone too. He began to speak, harsh, whispered tones, "Ashley- it's the president, he's, he's gone AWOL…" His head began to droop, and Ashley lifted it back up.
"What do you mean AWOL?" She asked, fiercely. "E... Exactly that Graham, AWol…" He began to trail off, and it seemed despite Ashley's best efforts he wouldn't wake up. "Wake up dammit!" She whispered harshly, slapping at his face. I knelt down, and placed my hand on his throat, my fingers on his veins. No pulse, no movement, just the faint warmth of a dead body. "He's gone, Graham. I don't know what he means, but we need to go. That thing could come back at-"I began to say, before "And leave him!? No way in hell are we leaving him behind!" She interrupted, nearly shouting.
"I know how you feel. I really do, probably better than anybody else, but there isn't anything we can do for him now," I said, as composed as I could. "But…" She trailed off, her head falling. I gripped her shoulder, and shook it. "Come on. He'd want us to keep going." She nodded.
I wasn't lying when I said I knew better than anybody else. It all just came rushing back again, like blood to a fresh wound.
END CHAP 1
(Hello! To begin with, feel free to be brutal with your critique. I'm well aware I made a lot of mistakes, but, there's nowhere to begin but beginning :)
Anyway, my goal with this is to rewrite the notoriously horribly RE6 story, so i'm always open to suggestions. Thank you for reading!)