Leech-Shaped Hole in My Heart

by Ivyblade80

Betrayal. Revenge. These two words encompass the very being of Dr. James Marcus, a man so filled with rage that his soul cannot rest until he destroys those who have wronged him. Even death was not enough to keep him from acting on his revenge. He has been given a second chance at life, and he fully intends to make use of it. Now, he will have his revenge on Umbrella...

14. Deadly Trials

May 5th, 1982

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A soft breeze drifted through the cool spring air, gently rustling the dark leaves that clung to the ocean of trees enveloping the distance. With each passing moment the sun hastened its descent, rendering the auburn hue that painted the sky to fade to a dreary, cloudless blue. The area was to be instilled with such a state of darkness that the man, standing by the heavy iron entrance, leaned through the doorway to flip a switch on the inner side, causing a light crackle to resound as two lanterns on the exterior wall flickered on. They finally resigned to a sense of consistency seconds later as their bright glow illuminated the crumbling path that stood opposite to them.

His sight was fixed on the skies above, but as he was caught in the trajectory of the biting chill of an abrupt gust, he folded his arms together to fight off the shudder that overtook him. His downcast eyes returned to the gloomy target above, yet nothing had changed.

"They're running late," he finally spat with a tone cold enough to match the rapidly dropping temperature. "If I had known this would happen, I'd have been better off staying inside and telling them to call when they're here… I suppose tardiness is another irksome trait to add to those associated with Umbrella."

Given how long they were taking despite using the supposedly much more convenient helicopter, he was beginning to think they would have been better off taking the Ecliptic Express. The only reason they didn't utilize it was because when he had been advising the messenger about the facility's layout, it was decided that the size and weight of the Hunters made the basement entrance to the facility severely imprudent. Carrying the subjects up the ladder and fitting them through the hatch in the main hall would have been nearly impossible, just as using the elevator in the train station would have created a massive and unwelcome workaround, considering how much farther they'd need to drag them along just to make it to the rooms of his choosing. Both of his picks for testing grounds were located in the basement sections of the facility, so the front door was actually the best option for an easy passage.

"Hmph… I'm going inside. By the time they arrive, I'll find myself too ill to do much of anything." He finally declared as he turned and prepared to enter the open doorway before him, only to be stopped in his tracks by a sudden low rumbling in the distance of the indigo sky. Sighing, he let his grip fall from the door's handle and shook his head. "It would seem fate wishes for me to be plagued by a cold, then…" He concluded in a grumble.

He let the door shut behind him and then leaned against it, his attention now focused on the small blot above the far-off forest, which was nearly indiscernible given the night's cloak of obscurity. Even when seeing nothing but the blur of its distant shape he felt something appeared off. He was finally proven right as it drew closer.

The helicopter itself was just as one might expect; a black chopper of an average build with sharp wings ripping through the air to bring it ever closer to its destination. The peculiarity, instead, laid at the underside. It was quite impossible to ignore the silver boxlike shape that nearly surpassed the size of the vehicle above it. The two had been connected by no more than a chain comprised of some type of, evidently, highly durable metal.

As the hovering forms drew closer, Marcus could make out just how large the two actually were. The magnitude of the box was so massive that it must have been even taller than he was, and with more width and depth than a human should ever hope to have. Regarding it with awe, he couldn't even begin to imagine what sort of B.O.W. was housed within. The only thing that was certain was that it must have been dangerous, so he hoped that enclosure was as strong as it looked…

The roar of its blades increased in volume, eventually rising to a particularly obnoxious degree as the aircraft floated above the bridge. It gradually descended low enough for the box to touch the ground, and upon someone inside pressing some button or another, the chain instantly released its grasp and retracted itself. Following suit, the chopper glided a few feet to the side, finally making a safe landing toward the opposite end of the crumbling bridge.

The door shot open and a man clad head-to-toe in sturdy, black body armor stepped out, and then another followed seconds later. The first looked to the front entrance and, having noticed Marcus, approached to introduce himself.

"Douglas of the Umbrella Security Service. Pleased to meet you, Dr. Marcus." He extended his firmly gloved hand, causing Marcus to stare at it with some sense of reluctance before finally reciprocating the gesture seconds later.

Taking notice of his apparent unease, the officer reached up and removed his helmet, revealing himself to be a man who couldn't have been much older than his early thirties. He had dark hair that was styled with the faint semblance of a mullet, along with a bit of stubble and a slight mustache to match. Despite his prior attempt at being approachable, his brown eyes displayed a stoicism that could only be worn by a man who was all business.

"I apologize for the delay. There were some issues with the preparation of the samples." He bowed his head slightly, although his stern countenance was unchanged as he returned his gaze to the man before him. "As you might have guessed, we've only brought one with us due to the size and weight of the B.O.W. being too excessive for one helicopter. However, Umbrella will uphold their offer of sending you six samples. Another chopper will arrive later tonight, while the others will be sent out at a later date, according to your wishes. On behalf of Umbrella, we hope that should not be a problem."

The officer's demeanor was so austere that Marcus hadn't been particularly sure in how to respond. He only tilted his head and shot a sideways glance toward the large case across from him, looking back to Douglas indifferently a moment later. "That's quite all right. I'm sure the two samples will more than suffice for the time being." He spoke with some sense of uncertainty, soon after shaking his head with a soft sigh. "But I fear I underestimated the size of the B.O.W. The rooms I wish to test them in are located in the basement, but there's no way that such a massive container will be capable of reaching said rooms with no obstruction."

"Not a problem, Doctor. If we must, we can remove the B.O.W. and carry it as is." He stated with confidence and pointed to the large black briefcase that his similarly-armored associate carried. "We've been supplied with numerous sedatives for situations such as this. Upon the administration of one such drug, we can easily carry the bioweapon to the proper position for whatever test you hope to conduct."

Thanks to that disclosure, Marcus realized that must have been the reason for the small slot he had noticed on the front of the box. He at first wondered if it was meant to give the creature air, but such a privilege was both strange and redundant for a typical bioweapon, so he found that to be unlikely. Surely, the true purpose was for an easy administration of those sedatives. Although he could never employ such innovative means of containment for his past bioweapons, he did often make use of tranquilizers that could be given through the bars of their cages.

"On that subject, Dr. Marcus… Would you mind if I scoped ahead to see for myself how much space we're working with? I'd like to be certain so that we can plan our next moves accordingly."

It was a simple question stemming from a logical motive, but that didn't stop Marcus from giving off a look of unease. He knit his brows and pursed his lips as he quickly ran through the potential scenarios in his mind.

Did the officer intend to explore the facility of his own accord? All alone? Regrettably Marcus was unable to disguise his apprehension very well, but it was easy to understand why he hadn't felt comfortable with the idea of Umbrella's men running amok in his facility. Staring at the soldier's broad use of body armor and the collection of guns and other weapons dangling from his sides and back only made his discomfort that much worse. If someone like that was loose within the facility, then…

"I'll accompany you." He declared abruptly, speaking before he even finished a proper reflection over the situation. "The room is not far, but the facility is quite large and easy to lose yourself in. I can certainly attest to this; it has happened to me for the longest time." To be fair, he meant this more in the spiritual sense than that of the physical, but he figured the officer probably didn't need to know that much. "Please, I'll lead the way."

Douglas nodded, stating that he would graciously accept the guidance. He turned and ordered the man who arrived with him to stay and keep an eye on the sample until he returned, resulting in a prompt salute from his quiet companion.

The two departed for their short journey—short for the fact that they needed only to pass through the main hall to the staircase in the middle of the room, and then follow the next set of steps to descend into the basement. Their destination had been the first door past the second turn.

He held his hand out to indicate their arrival, pointing to the plate hanging just beside the door which stated plain and simply, "Monitor Room."

Because it was a room meant for observation, below it had been a quote of insignificance by some famous writer on the subject of taking the time to observe the beauty of the world around you, some gibberish like that. He only included that bit because it detracted from the somewhat ominous title the room otherwise had. This should have been obvious, but he was never fond of the masses' attempts at spewing profound garbage any chance they got, so he wasn't interested in their foolish quotes that pretended to be clever. But he supposed even that rubbish could serve a purpose from time to time, even if his ideas for its use had been quite far from what the average person would come up with.

"To be sure of no confusion, I took the liberty of installing that sign. As I've said, it's a big building with a layout more complicated than most, so I wouldn't wish for anyone to end up lost."

Really, he did it because he was unwilling to let them use getting lost as an excuse for why they just so happened to find his laboratory and why they accidentally went through his files and how they shockingly discovered his inhumane experiments…and then told Umbrella all about them, word for word.

Suffice to say, he wasn't taking any chances.

"…Very kind of you, Sir." His low tone suggested a hint of skepticism, but he hadn't spoken another word as he pulled the door open and entered.

With Marcus following right behind, both were greeted by the incandescent lights that cast a powerful glow over the bulky machine that encompassed much of the room's righthand wall, as well as the few smaller devices occupying the alcove across from the door. The room overall gave off a sort of mechanical air, aside from the strange disparity at the room's left side. There, a bed and two lockers were placed, in addition to a few empty alcohol bottles that sat inaptly on a generator.

"Perhaps it's hard to tell, but this was initially one of the students' dormitories, only recently converted to a surveillance room for the purpose of aiding in Umbrella's research. However…" Walking toward the generator with his look of indifference becoming one of disgust, he flicked one of the bottles, causing it to fall on its side with a light clatter.

"…I'm afraid the students found themselves unable to clean up their own mess, likely having celebrated their graduation with a bit too much vigor. Oh, I'm certain those bright individuals have gone off to do such great things within our excellent company." With sarcasm laced into his voice, he looked toward the expressionless Douglas and let out a weak chuckle before folding his arms. "Don't worry, you need not agree with that. I'm certain Umbrella would make quite the report if you did."

The stern officer sustained his impassive demeanor, but did give a soft huff of amusement at the remark. He then placed the helmet he had been carrying on the bed while he shifted his focus to the machine on the eastern wall, observing the numerous screens and countless buttons that covered the surface. "It looks like you really went all out… Impressive that you managed to get all of this set up with such short notice." Turning back to Marcus, he questioned inquisitively, "If you don't mind my asking, do you know how to work this machinery?"

"Somewhat," he answered matter-of-factly. "It's as absurdly confusing as it looks, I'm certain, but I've researched the instructions thoroughly enough to have the general idea of it. I can power it on, if nothing else."

"That works well enough for me." Surprisingly, he let his firm expression drop for a moment to let a low chuckle escape from it, but within mere seconds he regained his usual disposition. Walking to the door opposite the one they arrived from, he glanced toward Marcus. "Am I correct in assuming that this room leads to the testing grounds?"

Marcus affirmed this, although not without feeling a slight tinge of embarrassment over the embellished term. The room itself could not have been nearly as elaborate as the officer was used to from his tenure at Umbrella's facilities, so he had no doubt that it would leave much to be desired. Regardless, he gave him permission to enter, and thus the two moved onward.

The immediate view presented to them was of a room both dull and dismal, the only lighting having been a tall torch that stood by the door as well as one fixed to the farthest wall, both of their mighty flames raging and coating the room with a trembling orange glow. Then there was the rugged cobblestone beneath their feet that posed a glaring contrast to the smooth concrete of the prior area, although one could at least be thankful that the tiles were embedded within the floor securely enough to allow for even footing.

Having absorbed the basics of the environment, it wouldn't take long for one to next perceive its bizarre furnishings. Such oddities were certain to provoke a reaction from any ordinary civilian, yet the two entering made no shifts in their demeanor as they detected the surroundings.

Most prominent had been the three chairs lining the wall that were comprised chiefly of silver and iron, with innumerable small but razor-sharp spikes protruding from each of their uninviting surfaces. The latter aspect alone had been enough to deter most from wishing to be anywhere near such an alarming creation, but that hadn't even been close to its true purpose. Through the press of a switch, countless volts of electricity would be emitted from each of those already discomforting spikes, the electrical current varying according to the level chosen via remote control. If the intended victim hoped to escape, the sturdy chains attached to the chair were sure to bind them and put an immediate end to any such fantasy.

Across from those devices, one couldn't miss the immense iron structures forced into the corner, each of the two easily towering over the height of an average man. Their combined weight had been so vast that it was impossible to overlook the shattered ground beneath it, pebbles and dirt strewn about while whole tiles had been pulled up and fractured. The device nearer to the front stood with its door open and revealed an amount of space that would allow something—or someone—to fit inside. The outside of the door had a key inserted that, when turned, would cause it to lock in addition to the immediate release of spikes that were hidden in the interior of its confining walls. Resting above the horror that would unfold within this iron prison was the engraving of a face—that of a gentle maiden.

Directly to the side of those was half of a water well, somewhat shabbily and hastily connected to the wall. It was quite wide and protruded a decent height from the floor, although it hadn't gone more than a few feet below the floor's surface. Inside, a vast pool of murky water could be seen as it gently swayed. And though a well filled with water was already a curious sight to see indoors, it was made even stranger by the tall and narrow cage that hung above it. It was made clear enough that this well was not for the sake of gathering water.

Those vile attractions were by far the biggest attention grabbers in the room, for the rest of it had been rather barren aside from the chains and ropes that hung from its walls in a haphazard fashion. No doubt, they were meant to restrain something, but their chaotic arrangement seemed to suggest that the person who put them in place was unsure of how exactly they were to be put to use. Instead, they opted to toss them wherever they would fit.

Apart from that, a simple wooden table rested in the corner by the chairs. Its surface was barren and its presence unneeded, again lending to the idea that the owner was in a rush and simply threw the room together at a moment's notice. The rectangular power regulator that sat directly beside the table aided this theory, seeing as the chances of it finding much usage in this torture chamber of a room was quite improbable. Was it even safe in a room designed to bring test subjects to the point of insanity through intense agony?

Marcus stepped forward and again made observations of his handiwork. While much of it was moved around by the friendly but rather disconcerted delivery men, he performed the actual setup for the devices himself. Truthfully he was getting too old to be putting himself through such labor, but he supposed a scientist's job was simply never done…

"This had been another dorm room, although you could hardly infer that from its current state." He finally declared as he reached the center of the room, idly running his finger along the arm of the nearest chair. "I didn't have much time to go all out, but I did my best to arrange a room that could, at the minimum, deliver on Umbrella's basic expectations. I'm aware that it's not much, but do you feel it will suffice?" Turning to face Douglas, his expression persisted with a look of uncertainty.

"It appears fine to me." He walked onward and stopped at Marcus' side, his eyes lingering on the devices for a mere few seconds each. "I'm aware that you scientists tend to put your all into your research, stopping at nothing to make sure the conditions are absolutely perfect for your data-collecting endeavors, but oftentimes it's just not necessary." He returned his weary gaze to the man beside him. "When it comes down to it, we're only here to see what will and won't kill the B.O.W. As long as those devices of yours are in some semblance of working order, it should more than suffice for Umbrella's purposes."

It was a rather blunt way to put it, but Marcus couldn't deny that the man was right about that. He was no stranger to overthinking things, so he didn't doubt that to be the case in this situation, as well. Still, one needed to take into account that he knew next to nothing about the creatures he was soon to meet, so he did feel it was best to be safe rather than sorry. Really, he was doubtful that the monsters would even fit in the machines he acquired, but if Douglas thought they were fine, he'd just need to take his word for it.

With his tense expression relaxing a bit, he gave a half-nod. "I'm glad to hear it, then. This room is by no means on the level of advancement that Umbrella generally employs, I'm sure, but perhaps it's true that the simpler things in life can function just as well. I wouldn't doubt Umbrella's methods to be excessive, and I wouldn't hope to follow in their footsteps, either."

His eyes soon landed on the northernmost wall, causing a frown to overtake his features as he again looked to the officer beside him. "Though I must ask, how aggressive would you say these particular B.O.W.s are? I ask simply due to the facility's power regulator being in this room. It doesn't control the power for the entirety of the facility, thankfully, but it would still be problematic if it were to be damaged during the experiments."

Douglas let his gaze fall on the sight of Marcus' troubles for only a moment, then after shook his head without much thought. "Undoubtedly, I can attest that the B.O.W. is extremely violent. But I wouldn't worry about it, if I were you. We intend to make this process go as smoothly and carefully as possible, so the Hunter will be sedated and restrained for as long as it takes to have it secured in the devices. There will be no opportunity for harm to befall neither you or your facility, I assure you of that."

This granted Marcus an even greater relief, but before he could voice that feeling aloud, the man spoke again.

"It does seem we'll need to do some maneuvering to fit the sample through the building, so I'll head back and make the preparations for it." He walked to the door, pulling it open only to suddenly cease his movement and look back to Marcus. "If you'd like, you can set up the monitoring equipment while we get things ready at the front. That is, if you're prepared to proceed with the testing now."

While that idea did make the most sense, Marcus again couldn't stop his displeasure in knowing that the man along with his associate would be free to roam the facility as they pleased. What if he set up the equipment and waited patiently for them to return, only to discover hours later that they were gone and the building had been ransacked? Granted, he'd be an idiot if he continued to wait without having second thoughts long before that, but still. Even if he did go out looking for them in the midst of their rampage, he wouldn't dare to think he could do anything to stop two heavily armed soldiers…

He internally sighed, tired of feeling afraid and concerned over every little thing. These fears were mostly baseless, anyhow, seeing as the most significant rooms were already locked and his research was well-hidden within them. Although, he did have to consider that Umbrella almost definitely had keys for all of the locks he had yet to change, so if they gave them to the officers beforehand…

…This was why he couldn't wait to be done with this whole task and get to the point where he could finally secure the facility in the ways he dreamed of. Only then would he be able to breathe a sigh of genuine relief; he'd never again need to live with that perpetual air of anxiety that had pervaded these halls for so, so long…

Moving on, he reluctantly put on a neutral face and agreed that it was a fine idea, thus following the man into the monitor room and parking himself before the massive equipment that occupied the wall.

"…Now, let's hope my study sessions with that instruction manual paid off." He muttered aloofly as his fingers went to work in dancing across the control panel. It didn't take long for both of the lowest screens to flash on, and then another at the top. Soon enough, all of them were powered on, and with a bit more finessing, several differently-angled views of the neighboring room flashed onto the array of monitors.

He slowly nodded as a triumphant grin betrayed his former look of concentration, evidently quite pleased for a job well done. "See? Even I can adapt with the times and new technologies! Although the manual did say it was easy enough that a child could set it up, but…those things always lie, anyhow." Unfortunately, his reassurance wasn't much help in keeping his cheerful demeanor from taking its leave, so it was again replaced with one of solemnity. He was proud of himself…at least for a little while.

Now his work was done, so he needed only to await the arrival of the officers with the sample. But as the minutes began to creep by, he quickly grew bored and pondered how much longer they would take. Thankfully, these concerns were answered around the ten-minute mark when he was greeted by the admittedly startling but not unexpected sight of the door bursting open. Douglas' back had been the only thing he could see at first, but as they turned and maneuvered to fit the B.O.W. through the narrow frame of the door, Marcus finally discovered exactly what he was soon to be working with.

The B.O.W. possessed a physique that was built in a way that appeared almost human, its arms and upper legs appearing to be brimming with strength as the muscle swelled beneath its rough, scalelike skin. Yet that was where the humanity ended, for its massive but shackled hands and feet lacked the limbs and shape to be considered any more than that of a monstrous beast, armed with claws that in themselves just might have been the size of a human's entire hand. Along its green reptilian skin had been the trails of crimson veins boldly protruding, some portions of flesh even appearing to peer out from the gaps under its scales.

Though its eyes remained shut, its mouth hung open and exposed the vicious fangs inside. These features were housed on a head that Marcus truthfully was unable to properly describe. It was certainly amphibious in overall appearance, though its face hardly possessed a neck to extend itself from, rendering it more as a mere extension of its swollen, hunched over back. The one thing he could think to ascribe to it was that it was truly the physical embodiment of a monster.

"I apologize if this comes as too hasty, Doctor," Douglas said as he adjusted his hold on the heavy creature and turned to Marcus. "But to be sure we have enough time to set up the testing procedures before the sedative wears off, which of the devices should we make use of first?"

Marcus was snapped out of his observations at the sudden question, taking only a few seconds to grasp what was asked of him. He directed them to use the electric chair, suggesting that the chains fixed to it should grant a greater level of security in addition to the iron that already bound its hands and feet.

With that, they made their way to the door in a hobble. Douglas freed one hand to open it, and then after returned his full grip to the Hunter and dragged it through with the assistance of the officer at the rear. Upon their arrival in the room, they carried it to the nearest of the chairs and sat the B.O.W. on it. The two of them began to work on the accompanying chains with haste to wrap them around the monster's wrists and ankles. Its bulbous back did make it a tight fit toward the upper point of the chair, but overall it worked out well enough and the Hunter could be seated with no real difficulties. Of course, the monster was likely to try and make difficulties once it awoke, but there wasn't much helping that.

Once they reentered the prior room, Marcus immediately spoke.

"I have the remote control right here, so it can be powered on at any time." He mumbled idly as they noticed him kneeling and rummaging through the contents of the low shelf in the northern alcove. He finally stood moments later with a small remote in his hand. "How much of the sedative did you give to it?" He addressed them without looking in their direction, instead returning to his seat by the monitor and picking up the clipboard and pen to his side.

The man beside Douglas, still clad in his armor, helmet, and all, was the one to step forward. "Just enough to put it down for fifteen minutes. It should begin to stir at any moment now, Doctor."

He hadn't any interest in asking so the introduction had been delayed, but as Marcus later would learn, that officer's name was Griffin. He was Douglas' righthand man, and, in addition, he was the designated member of this squad typically assigned to handle the administration of drugs to the B.O.W.s. He was a quiet and dutiful fellow, never one to question an order from his superior, whom he greatly admired.

Marcus had no real qualms with him, although if he had to find something to nitpick, it would have been nice to see what he looked like without the helmet, at least once. It often appeared more like he was some sort of automaton following at Douglas' beck and call without a word nor mind of his own. It was frankly just a bit unsettling, but he supposed this was simply how soldiers were trained to operate. They didn't need their own opinion if they believed their commander's will to be infallible…

"Mm, we may as well wait for it to return to consciousness, then." He flipped through the pages on his board, stopping once he arrived at the end. He used his pen to point to one of the paragraphs, softly tapping on it several times. "Umbrella didn't say anything in regard to whether or not the subject should be kept awake during the trials, and generally speaking it should not have any bearing on the trial itself." With a light shake of his head and a low sigh, he continued. "But, for efficiency's sake, I'll record its conscious response to the tests. Or at least, I will for this subject. It's only going to be more of a hassle to continue administering the sedative and waiting for it to recover every time. There's no need to bother wasting so much time and effort for something with such a minimal impact."

Douglas voiced his agreement and walked forward. He stood beside the doctor and hunched himself somewhat to get a better look at the screen Marcus had been absorbed in. In a few minutes, they detected low grunts emerging through the machine's speakers, and rapid twitches were seen from the subject. Its yellow, lizard-like eyes opened and darted from one arm to the other, yanking them back and letting out a piercing, inhuman shriek at the realization of its captive state.

Marcus watched the creature writhe for only a couple seconds before letting his gaze fall on the remote to his side. He grabbed it and, upon setting the strength to half of its maximum capacity, pressed the power button. His eyes traveled upward and he saw the Hunter begin to jerk violently and let out wails of growing agony. Its body involuntarily pulled at the chair to which it was confined with a force that could have easily lifted it from the floor had it not been bolted down. Its claws dug so deeply into the iron that it scarred every inch that it touched.

Without removing his vigilant gaze and with the remote still firmly in his grasp, he slowly twisted the dial until it reached maximum capacity. Douglas noticed this and opened his mouth to question it, thinking that perhaps they should have waited longer before utilizing such a fatal level, but one look at the monitor was enough to make him perish the thought. He realized that in spite of the increasingly violent manner in which the monster thrashed about—it displayed no signs of stopping.

"…Fascinating." Marcus muttered aloud, removing his sight for no more than a minute in order to quickly jot down something on his papers. He again looked to the tormented monster with an expression of subdued awe. "There's not a creature alive that should be capable of withstanding so high of a voltage in such an intense frequency, yet this…Hunter… It's not dying. It's almost as if…as its pain increases, it develops an even stronger and more intense desire to cling onto life. B.O.W.s are known to be rather resilient, but this is quite something else."

He devoted more of his attention to the clipboard this time, finally looking up afterward. He saw that after such a fierce struggle against the relentless electric currents, the monster finally released its ferocious claws from the arms of the seat and its entire body became limp.

Marcus immediately turned off the power to grant the Hunter the reprieve it so strongly sought, and upon close inspection of the monitor he was able to determine that the creature was still breathing and had simply passed out. He added this revelation to his notes, again looking up to face Douglas. "As we've just seen, even the deadliest setting of the electric chair is unable to cause harm to the B.O.W. to any fatal degree. But seeing as it did lose consciousness, it may be an opportune time to move on to the next trial."

Douglas agreed, and upon inquiring about the next objective, he was instructed to fit the B.O.W. into one of the iron maidens. The two were able to remove the charred Hunter from its attachments to the chair, immediately taking note of the sweltering blisters that overtook its weakened body. It had been so incapacitated that it hadn't stirred in the slightest, allowing them to carry it and shove it into its new iron prison with ease. They additionally decided that since the Hunter was not likely to pose much risk after the next test, it was safe to remove its handcuffs, as well.

Heeding the instructions Marcus provided them prior to this, Douglas was told to simply close the door and turn the key once he was ready. And just as he was warned, in seconds the sluggish creaks of shifting machinery could be heard resonating throughout the device. The sounds drifted off to a state of silence, only to suddenly conclude with a rapid thrust and a mechanical screech. This was followed by yet another scream, only this one had been more organic in that it emerged from the monster who was forced to regain consciousness in that untimely moment. All sounds then ceased as the room itself felt as though it were frozen in place—that is, until the officers finally looked to the ground, only to instantly jump back.

A wave of crimson emerged from beneath the gaps in the iron, slowly spreading across the floor until it could stretch no farther. The two looked to each other, Douglas' uncovered face showing a clear look of dismay before redirecting his attention to the iron maiden. He stepped through the shallow pool of blood that started to run along the floor's crevices and reached forward to again turn the key and open the door. The moment he did, a severed arm fell to the ground with a splatter and a repugnant smell hit them with full force.

Keeping an air of pure professionalism, he turned from the revolting sight and looked squarely at the camera that rested in the upper corner of the room. "The subject is deceased. It was unable to withstand impalement, so this trial may now conclude." He stated what was already obvious to each of them with a tone that indicated no signs of discomfort whatsoever. "The next officers will arrive shortly with the next test subject. Until then, we will gather what is left of this B.O.W. and return it to its initial container."

Marcus listened from the other room without a word, watching as the two began their attempt to pry the Hunter's hole-ridden body from its tomb. It was a repulsive scene, so he was pleased to tear his eyes from it to instead write his closing comments in his notes. He only looked up once the door behind him opened with the officers carrying the bloodied creature through the room. Growing sickened by the blood that streamed from its wounds and onto the previously spotless floor, he asked them to use the blanket from the nearby bed to wrap it up with. They did as he wished and soon after left the room, first assuring him that they would return shortly.

Once they left, Marcus went back to staring at the notes in his lap. Placing a hand on his chin, he used the other to again tap on the paper while he perused the results of the group's labors. "It comes as no surprise that impalement proved fatal. No matter how strong their physique may be, being ridden with holes, especially of that size, is not something that any B.O.W. should hope to survive. If they had regenerative abilities, that could be another story, but clearly they were not blessed with skills such as those."

"I will admit, it's impressive that they could withstand such a powerful degree of electrocution. Although the highest level was capable of knocking them out, so it still did pose an issue to an extent. I wonder…" He trailed off and looked away for a brief moment, finally returning his gaze to the notes with a slight nod. "It's unlikely that their resilience to electricity would prove so great if they were exposed to water prior to it. It already was capable of causing them a fair amount of harm, so the amplified conductivity from the water is almost certain to kill them…"

He thought about it for a few more seconds, but then resigned to a light shrug and a shake of his head. "Well, I suppose it's worth testing. I have five more of these B.O.W.s being sent to me, and I don't have all that many ways to torture them in the name of research... I may as well get my money's worth from all of that equipment, anyhow."

Letting out a soft sigh, he briefly glanced at the monitor below him, perceiving the vacant room beset with a deluge of dark crimson. The iron maiden itself was filled with even more of the awful fluid, and it even contained a small pile of mushy flesh that he deeply wished he had not seen. He was thankful that the officers took the corpse with them, and at least they did try to grab any detached pieces to the best of their ability. But he wasn't looking forward to cleaning up the revolting mass of chaos that remained. Honestly, he really should have gotten started on it now, but…he really did not want to.

"I'll be lucky if I even remember where the cleaning supplies are…" He grumbled in annoyance, only to then after seriously contemplate where they might have been. After much deep thought on the subject…he realized he had no idea.

The next few minutes were spent by him idly twiddling his thumbs, as well as his frequent attempts at going to the door and peeking out to see if the officers were on their way back. Every time he was met with the utter silence of the dim corridor, he would dejectedly return to his seat and ponder what he should do next…while completely disregarding the idea of searching for those cleaning supplies.

Another ten minutes passed before he finally heard those much-anticipated footsteps coming from the hall. He half-expected to see the door burst open with additional soldiers lugging a hefty Hunter in with them, but he instead was greeted by the familiar grim face of Douglas with his masked cohort behind him.

"Again, you have my apologies for the wait, Dr. Marcus." He gave a light bow of his head and stepped toward the table. "We intended to await the arrival of the next unit to aid their preparations, but they're taking longer than expected. We thought it best if we returned so as to not cause you any alarm. But to give an estimate, I believe we're looking at another fifteen minutes before they arrive, at the minimum."

"Ah, there's no need to apologize." Marcus asserted with a wave of his hand. "It gave me enough time to finish up with my notes and to decide on our next method of testing, so the pause went to good use." Narrowing his eyes and glancing to the side, he thought back to the shameful amount of time he spent pondering the location of those elusive cleaning products. He then shook his head with a solemn expression. "…Well, for the most part."

A brief silence had followed his statement, but it was broken again soon after by the typically quiet officer. "Oh, by the way…we still have this." Griffin stepped out from behind his superior's shadow and walked to Marcus, finally holding up the pile of thick, dingy cloth that he kept loosely in his grasp and gestured for him to take it.

Turning to face him, his eyes traveled to the item in question, only to immediately recognize it as the blanket he told them to use for the Hunter…which was drenched and seeping with blood. Even worse, the goofball had been holding it so close that the dirty, rusted scent went straight to Marcus' nostrils. He scowled and leaned away as far as he could.

"You… You can leave it over there." He finally muttered and pointed to the bed across from them, but not without a clear sense of disbelief that the man apparently believed he would have actually touched that filth. Even Douglas had watched the scene unfold initially with a look of confusion, though he eventually resigned to covering his face with his hand in disappointment.

The somewhat awkward soldier accepted the order and did as he was told. He dropped the mess of a blanket onto the bed, virtually assuring the poor mattress would be stained in a way that would forbid it from ever being truly clean again. It was times like these that made Marcus feel he should have been grateful for his natural aversion to sleeping on anything other than a desk chair—he certainly wasn't going anywhere near that bed, never mind sleeping in it… The very thought made him shudder.

---

During the wait, Griffin had taken to examining the items around the room, mainly interested in the notes on the message board. It was written by the employees of the facility, apparently directed toward the students and it served the important purpose of reminding them of their responsibilities and duties. It wasn't very interesting, frankly, but he'd be happy to read an instruction manual for something he'd never even own if it helped make the time go by.

Marcus had been looking over his notes once again, every so often glancing at the monitors above as if he expected something to change in the empty but desecrated room that it displayed.

Douglas leaned against the wall with his arms crossed, his posture and expression showing no more than the grim sense of stoicism that never appeared to change with him. His only shift in demeanor came when suddenly, a crackle sounded out and a voice began to emerge from his handheld transceiver.

"Come in, Captain?" The radio emitted a man's voice with a low beep and a faint rumbling of static to accompany it. "We're above the building now, fast approaching the drop-off point, over."

Douglas grabbed the device from his waist and held it to his ear, pressing the button which let off a muffled click as he replied, "Roger that. Do you recall how to properly handle the B.O.W.? Over."

While he was speaking, he began to walk to the door, so the increased distance along with the already-shaky connection rendered Marcus unable to hear exactly what the man on the other end had said. But he gathered that it was something along the lines of denial, seeing as Douglas began explaining the procedure afterward. The main thing he noticed was the man's adamance on the amount of sedative that was to be administered to the Hunter, considering he asserted several times that too much or too little ran a serious risk of sabotaging the mission. Marcus didn't pay the discussion much mind, really. Their "special procedures" were just common sense to him, but he did find their combat-oriented manner of speech to be rather amusing, at the very least.

The conversation didn't last long, and the intent behind it had been made clear based on what the two could hear of it, but Douglas' professionalism compelled him to announce that the rest of the team would be arriving shortly. Subsequently, he opened the door and leaned his weight against it to look out into the hallway and anticipate their arrival.

Soon enough they heard the sound of heavy footsteps fast approaching, along with Douglas shouting for them to follow as he reentered the room while holding the door open for them. They quickly made their way in, finally revealing another pair of men clad in the same black armor and dragging along a new Hunter, which shared its grotesque inhuman appearance and shackled limbs with the previous test subject.

"Dr. Marcus, your orders?" Douglas asked quickly and cautiously, clearly intent on not wasting any more time than he needed to.

"Ah, yes." With his tone as bored as his appearance, he replied with his jaded gaze fastened on the monitors before him. "You may utilize the water well next. The subject should fit in the cage without too much hassle, I do believe." He raised a hand to point to the well that could be seen via monitor, effectively gaining the attention of the newly arrived officers. "Although, I must ask that you remove the subject before it perishes. I would like for it to be placed in the electric chair afterward so that we may gain further data in regard to the extent of its resistances and durability."

"You've got it, Doctor—" The smallest officer began his reply, but stopped abruptly and looked to the man who had been aiding him with the Hunter. "Did you see… N-no, we better…better hurry before…"

The sudden panic in his voice drew the attention of the other men in the room, each of them having looked in his direction only to instantly share a mutual look of disbelief. The monster that should have remained unconscious for at least another fifteen minutes had begun to shift and groan, a telling sign that something had gone horribly wrong with their preparations.

"Wait, why is… Urgh, damn it!" Douglas spat and suddenly raised an arm to Griffin from across the room. "Grab the tranquilizers! Now!"

The officer gave a grunt of affirmation and reached down to grab the briefcase at his side—only to realize that it wasn't there. Immediately he remembered that he left it in the testing chamber in case something were to go wrong in that room, as well as to keep it from getting blood all over it while they carried out the previous Hunter's corpse. "Captain, it's in the other room—I'll grab it!" Without hesitation nor delay, he ran to open the door, the heavy steel slamming shut behind him while he left the rest of the men to face the monster alone.

"No, wait! We need to restrain it now… Ah, never mind that!" As swiftly as he had spoken, his lips were unable to utter his next orders without the Hunter already having come to its senses.

Its fierce yellow eyes began to traverse the small and confined room. It took no time at all to perceive numerous bodies in its surroundings that would make for delicious prey. Letting out a low growl, it raised its chained arms that had been held by one officer, breaking free of his grip with a forceful jut of its elbow and using the newfound maneuverability to ram its heavy fists into the officer that faced it, knocking him into the lockers with a heavy crash.

"We have to neutralize it, Commander!" The other officer cried with a sharp edge to his voice, reaching for the gun to his side, only to be stopped by a shout.

"No, you're not to harm the subject! It's not our place!" Douglas ordered with his tone firm and commanding in spite of the horribly unprecedented situation. "Just…restrain it! We can't let it harm the doctor!" He then sprinted to the monitoring system, shoving the table aside to pull Marcus by the wrist and away from the chair. Stumbling along, the out-of-place doctor was dragged away from the room and to the hallway outside.

"Wait out here—we'll deal with it!" This was all that the rattled commander said before hurrying back into the room to aid his distraught men. Marcus couldn't even reply before the door was slammed in his face, leaving him in the safety of the hall to do nothing but listen to the destruction that raged inside.

The immediate sight granted by his hurried return was of the Hunter using its monstrous strength to break through the shackles binding its wrists with ease. It attempted to do the same for the ones that held back its legs, but it stumbled and fell, knocking over the chair where Marcus formerly sat. That fall would have provided the perfect chance for them to hold it down, but the impact clearly made the B.O.W. even angrier. It reached down and used its immense hands to pull the chain apart, looking up afterward and letting out a threatening hiss to the brave men that remained behind.

"Griffin! How's those sedatives coming?!" Douglas shouted, only for it to draw the attention of the enraged Hunter. It suddenly leaped at him, but he swiftly jumped out of the way and narrowly avoided a cut from those behemoth claws to his unprotected face.

"Commander, your helmet!" The taller of the men, Victor, yelled and grabbed the helmet that had been discarded on the bed, tossing it to his captain who made a quick recovery from his collision to the floor.

The man caught it and immediately placed it on, and then after looked to the two men and pointed to the door that their cohort was currently in. "We have no room to maneuver. We need to get in there, so I sure hope Griffin's got the equipment ready!"

The younger officer, Hugh, had been to his side and nodded. "Even if he doesn't, I don't think we have much of a choice." His voice shook, but he put on a brave front. "You two go first, I'll distract him!"

"Nice heroics, but I don't think the Hunter gives a crap!" Victor shouted as he dove to avoid an attack, which resulted in the hunter falling into the bed and a loud crack erupting from its metal frame.

Each injury it brought upon itself only made it more agitated, so it didn't even attempt to recuperate before jumping up and running toward Douglas. He sidestepped to avoid it, but the constricted space made him slip and fall into the monitoring system while the Hunter instead collided with the shelf. The edge of the machinery sent him such a direct impact to the ribs that even his armor couldn't have done much to stop the brunt of it.

He winced in pain; a pain that was made several times worse by how hasty he was in rising to his feet. Before the Hunter could regain its footing, he hobbled forward and pointed to the door across the room. "Get in! Hurry!"

The officers looked back at him and then to each other with a nod. Victor rushed to the door and held it open while Hugh ran back to grab his captain, pulling his arm over his shoulder and aiding his walk to the door despite his protests on the matter. These complaints were cut short, however, by the Hunter's sudden resurgence, so the two forced themselves to hurry through the door.

Victor prepared to slam it shut as soon as they were in, but the monster's adrenaline and speed propelled it to push past both the closing door and Victor himself, knocking the man to the ground as it sent a glare to the remaining men along with an earsplitting screech.

"I've got the sedative right here!" Griffin was standing by the table in the farthest corner of the room. Upon finishing his preparations, he took a few steps forward and held up the drug-filled syringe, an act that quickly proved to be a mistake. Both Douglas and Hugh were standing in front of him, but the Hunter sprinted forward and sprang toward them so forcefully that all three men were knocked to the ground with a crash as the concrete beneath them shattered.

Griffin specifically hit the ground in front of the power regulator with such a force that he could almost feel it sink lower at the impact, and he sensed the floor couldn't take much more weight. He did his best to ignore the throbbing in his body and began to crawl toward the alcove that housed the other experimental devices, but as soon as his hand grasped the next stone in an attempt to pull himself forward—he realized the sedative was no longer in it. He weakly turned his head to look back and saw a faint glimmer from beneath the table all the way in the corner. "Captain, the sedative, it's…!"

"I've got it, just move!" Douglas, being the one that landed nearest to it, inched his way forward and reached his arm as far as it could stretch. The tips of his fingers came just close enough to touch it, but an abrupt spasm in his wounded limbs sent it even further into the corner. He cursed his luck and tried to force himself closer, oblivious to the fact that the Hunter once again made him its hapless target.

"Captain, look out!" Victor shouted and ran forward to tackle the monster, holding back its arms as firmly as he could. He was then graced with an assist from Hugh, who didn't hesitate in following in the same footsteps upon his recovery. But even with the two of them clinging onto the B.O.W.'s deformed back with all their might, it shook them off with such force that they had been thrown to each of its sides.

Hugh got the worst end of it having been slammed into the sturdy metal of the electric chair. The impact came so fast that he was unable to even dismay over the fact that the device was screwed into the floor and couldn't move an inch to lessen the bone-fracturing collision to his left shoulder. He gritted his teeth and let out a howl of pain, but the moment he looked back and saw the reptilian monster towering over him with its teeth flashing in a way that was akin to a smile brimming with pure evil, he almost felt as though all the pain in his body vanished in fear of the agony that awaited it.

It spread out each of its gravely sharpened fingers and let out a shrill hiss, leaning backward as if it intended to savor the bliss that couldn't have been more contradictory to what its poor victim was to feel within mere seconds. With no further warning it shot its left arm forward and dug those daggerlike claws into the man's wounded shoulder. He gave off an ear-piercing scream, but that couldn't even compare to the deafening cry he let out once the Hunter dove forward and sank its unforgiving fangs into the side of his stomach, instantly breaking through armor and tearing through his skin like paper to penetrate his vulnerable flesh.

"God…damn it!" Douglas was so taken aback by the horrific scene unfolding before him that he immediately disregarded every ache in his body to force himself to his feet. "Griffin!" He shouted and turned to the man who had only just risen himself and without another word, the man held his hands out and Douglas hurled the syringe to him. He caught it and gave an affirmative nod. Douglas looked ahead.

"Victor, now!" He yelled and ran forward, pulling out the steel axe he kept sheathed on his back and slammed it into the Hunter with as much force he could possibly muster. It was knocked away from the wounded officer momentarily, so before it could attempt to regain its balance, Victor and Douglas jumped at it from both sides and tackled it into the hard ground. It screeched and attempted to claw and pull at the stones beneath it, but the combined weight of the two men holding down each of its arms and legs was too much to fight off, especially given the piercing pain it now felt in its own back.

"Griffin, do it! Hurry!" Douglas screamed, his voice growing more panicked once he felt the Hunter begin to regain enough strength to slowly push itself to its feet, even with the men clinging to it as powerfully as they could.

"Got it!" He ran around the corner of the alcove and made his way to them. He couldn't get a good angle from either side due to the men obscuring much of its body, so he had no choice but to run to the front. It took notice of him and growled, but he disregarded it and instead removed the cap from the needle, jamming it into the B.O.W.'s bulbous neck and pushing the plunger all the way down. The liquid gradually pervaded its bloodstream, and almost immediately the creature lost its strength to fight. Its eyes drifted shut and its arms gave out, forcing it to collapse onto the floor with a thud.

The only sound that remained was the heavy breathing of each of the men. Griffin had been the only one left standing, but even he uneasily walked with a sway to the wall. He leaned against it, slowly sliding down until he was on the floor like all the rest.

Each of the men remained in this static state for a few minutes, but the commander was the first to rise. He was silent as he slowly walked to the table in the corner, throwing his bloodied axe onto it with a harsh clatter. He then turned and stepped toward Hugh, who had propped himself up by leaning against the chair. He was presently applying pressure to his profusely bleeding stomach with one hand while his breathing grew even more harsh. Douglas stared down at him for a few seconds, finally extending a hand afterward. The man looked at it for a moment, but cautiously raised his free hand to accept it.

"Captain, I…"

"Shut up." His angered remark left no room for the timid officer to reply, and he frankly was not in the mood for anything he could possibly say. "You were the one in charge of administrating the sedative to the B.O.W. For what reason would I tell you the exact measurements and instructions if you were going to disobey my orders regardless? Did you purposely defy your commanding officer? Did you intend to get your allies killed?"

"No, Captain, I would never…!" He weakly raised a hand in protest, but Douglas shoved it aside and continued.

"I told you to shut up." He asserted with his tone becoming increasingly venomous with each word that escaped his mouth. "Your excuses are meaningless. You put the lives of both your allies and Dr. Marcus at risk, and look where it left you. Because of your insubordination, I was forced to injure the B.O.W. when it was not any of our place to do so. Just who do you think this indiscretion will fall on?" He turned away and scoffed in disgust, unwilling to stare at the man for even a second longer.

"Captain, I know, it was my fault… I…I don't know what happened, and I have no excuse for it. I screwed up bad, and I can only thank God that no one was more seriously injured." He spoke softly and looked to the other two men, both of them having recuperated enough to rise and stand by their commander's side. "I'm just glad that if anyone had to get the brunt of the damages, it was me…even if I gotta admit, it does hurt like hell." He gave off a nervous chuckle, which only seemed to make his injuries ache even more intensely. Still, he did his best to ignore the discomfort and instead returned his attention to the captain. "Please… I promise I'll make it up to you guys next time. Just give me another chance…please."

Douglas turned to him for a second, but quickly looked forward. "…Next time, I won't save you." Shaking his head and letting out a low scoff, he continued. "…That goes for all of you." He walked ahead and forcefully brushed past the injured officer. "We're using the water well next. Get the Hunter ready for it." He finally let himself out of the room, leaving the remaining officers with the callous words he spat into the air.

Arriving at the door to the corridor, Douglas opened it and was greeted by the sight of Marcus leaning against the wall with one arm propped atop the other, his hand resting on his chin. He looked surprised to see the man finally return, so he quickly straightened his posture and tilted his head.

"Oh, you're still alive? Honestly, with all of the commotion and screaming, I was beginning to expect the worst." He appeared rather nonchalant as he stepped past the man and entered the monitor room. Only, his air of disinterest immediately dropped and his mouth fell agape at the atrocity that stood before him.

"…I apologize." He said no more as he, too, took the chance to finally observe the chaotic state of the place.

The wood end table was facing the floor with all of its former possessions scattered and surrounding it. The shelf across the room was on its side while much of the equipment it once housed appeared to be cracked and in other cases completely broken. Film reels were among the forsaken belongings that now belonged to the floor, but what hurt more than anything was the sight of the machinery that laid there bruised and battered. He had only just purchased those for the sake of this accursed B.O.W. testing. He never even had the chance to use them…not that he really knew how.

Furthermore, the desk chair was on the floor and looked to be lopsided, undoubtedly having snapped something crucial in its descent. And while it was still powered on and thankfully not broken, it was easy to see that even the sturdily-built monitoring system had quite a few dents and scratches that weren't present prior to this endeavor. Again, that had been another brand-new purchase that already looked as if it were subjected to years of abuse.

Even the floor and walls were victimized. They were cracked and began to crumble in numerous locations…

Marcus grew silent and his face became blank to the point of causing concern, and it remained this way for at least a solid minute. Douglas finally decided to resume his air of authority as he attempted to remedy this situation as well as he could.

"Words cannot change anything, but I again must apologize." He spoke quietly with a slight bow of his head. "Due to the carelessness of my men, not only have we caused a shameful amount of damage to your property, but we even put your life in danger. And to make matters worse, we were forced to bring harm to the B.O.W. to put a stop to it before matters got even more out of hand." He looked away and shook his head with a conduct that expressed genuine sorrow. "As the leader of this squad, the actions of my men are that of my own. It was my duty to ensure that each of them knew what needed to be done, so I take full responsibility over what has transpired."

Marcus was honestly surprised that the officer seemed so apologetic over the situation. He actually appeared quite sincere, contrary to the stoic apathy Marcus would have expected from him.

"It's fine, you need not worry about it... Sorry certainly isn't going to clean this mess." He mumbled with a hint of contempt before moving ahead to lift his newly-deformed chair. Ironically, the thought did occur to him that this might have been karma for his unwillingness to clean up the disaster that unfolded in the testing chamber. If he wouldn't fix that mess, then he supposed fate wished for him to have a whole other disaster to deal with—one that couldn't be resolved with a few swishes of a good mop.

…Oftentimes, he began to feel as though his life had been an insufferable joke that simply refused to get to the punchline.

"Well, putting this disaster aside for a moment… You must know that I am already quite familiar with the aggressive and unpredictable nature of B.O.W.s. The entire situation is unfortunate, yes, but surprising? Not in the slightest." He took a seat in the chair and leaned backward, frowning with unease as it flew far too greatly in comparison to how it was meant to. He shook his head, clearly disappointed, but then forced a halfhearted smile into his expression. "Nevertheless, you have my thanks for taking great care to ensure my safety. I'm…truthfully not used to such treatment, so it did come as a bit of a surprise, but…"

Upon trailing off, his contented expression fell as he took on a more serious one. "How are the rest of your men, anyhow? They were not quite so lucky as to be ushered into the hallway for safekeeping." He looked to Douglas, but even with the man's helmet on, he could tell that beneath it must have laid a look of dismay. He instinctually turned to the monitor behind him. The first thing he noticed was the bleeding Hugh resting against a wall, taking heavy and ragged breaths while the other two busied themselves with restraining the Hunter in the cage above the water well. His eyes briefly widened, but once he parted his lips and prepared to question the commander on it, he was stopped by the man's grim voice.

"He'll be fine." He stated abruptly. "Current data shows that the Hunter B.O.W.s are not known to be reliable transmitters of the virus, even through direct contact with their saliva. Rest assured, his life is not at risk, nor is any of ours."

"Is that so?" He forced a look of indifference as he replied, crossing his arms while returning his gaze to the monitor. "…Very good, then."

He had to use most of his willpower to keep his expression from letting on too much of his mind's inner workings. It occurred to him in that moment that from a mere two sentences, Douglas had let much more slip than Umbrella would have taken kindly to. After all, Marcus knew next to nothing about what they had been getting into with the Progenitor virus. For all of these years, he was left utterly in the dark, which he wouldn't mind so much if they had felt the same about his own work. But from that little slipup, it was clear that Umbrella's advances mimicked his more closely than he had expected…which wasn't so surprising when considering so much of his research had been pilfered for the sake of their progression.

It was obvious that the Hunters were created by utilizing the Progenitor virus, or at least some new strain of it. Given the evidence he could rightfully infer that this hypothetical strain was similar to his T-virus in several ways. The virus was able to alter the DNA of its host with such strength that it caused a complete transformation, while additionally granting more powerful abilities that were not even close to possible in a natural state. This factor alone matched his T-virus to…well, to a T.

With that much having been explicable, Douglas' comment mainly served to confirm what he could have expected—that the Arklay lab's virus was rather infectious and was often transmittable by contact with the B.O.W. That was well and good, but even more important here was the result of that infection. If they had been using the Progenitor virus alone, the new host for the virus would drop dead at a moment's notice. So, in the scenario where that officer was indeed infected and succumbed to it…how would that have put everyone else at risk?

He might have been overthinking it, truly, but that was simply what he did best, and his overactive mind never failed him in times like these. His theory was that the Arklay virus was in truth no different from his—it was the very same, in fact, no doubt with good reason.

With that said, he believed that a human coming into contact with this virus would turn into a form no different from the zombies he had become so acquainted with. There could be no doubt that in their zombified form they would become a hazard to those around them. Therefore, this theory served as the perfect explanation for Douglas' comment and could let Marcus see with a newfound clarity of where Umbrella was at in terms of progress.

It was at this point that he felt the need to stifle a looming grin, for his mind drifted to the obvious. After all of this time, he now knew with certainty…Umbrella was ten steps behind his own shadow. No matter how impressive their B.O.W.s might have been, their bloodthirsty Hunters could not even compare to his own pride and joy—his leeches! While the souls of those precious little warriors had passed on, they continued to prove themselves as the greatest thing to ever come from a man of Umbrella.

The Hunters were powerful, for sure, he wouldn't dare discount their strength. It was to be emphasized, however, that they couldn't be controlled, so the fact that they also were incapable of infecting their victims limited their battle potential to an even greater extent. One might be tempted to argue that the Hunters were meant to leave only death and destruction in their wake so the ability to infect others was not necessary. But the ability to transmit the virus would allow them to make up for whatever shortcomings they did have in combat, with at least one foreseeable issue being that they could not often be deployed in large numbers, due to the high costs that came with mass-producing such a big bioweapon.

Furthermore, the complete lack of control in these creatures was not something to be overlooked. Frankly, who could say if they would be willing to let a fellow infected body escape its murderous radar? He could easily believe it if their highly sadistic nature propelled them to butcher any poor zombies that happened to come their way, so that again left little use for them in terms of cooperative combat.

He would be able to validate this through future testing, he figured, but he did expect them to leave others of their kind alone. During his research with the Eliminators and the like, they tended to show aggression to any living form aside from the ones they were a kindred spirit to. It was possible that the Hunters would function the same way. If he was correct in this line of thinking, then that opened the door for utilizing several Hunters together, but it was again to be said that this manner of use had its limits. B.O.W.s that could work well with others on top of being controllable were truly the best in the business, for obvious reasons.

Of course, his leeches fit the bill for the perfect B.O.W. in every single way, but Umbrella certainly wasn't going to be getting any of them now. It was astounding that they would shoot themselves in the foot for the sole purpose of clipping his wings, but he always knew the lot of them were just morons that thought a degree could tell them otherwise. He'd rather live as a ghost long before becoming one than to let those idiots triumph off of his successes.

If that stubbornness was the only thing he had left to cling to, then they'd find it easier to come up with their own achievements than to try and pry his from his cold, dead hands.

"Anyhow," he began as he slowly shifted to face Douglas. "Given the circumstances, you've likely administered more sedative to the B.O.W. than you ordinarily would have. I don't suppose it will be waking up any time soon, so we may as well begin the next experiment. Just as I mentioned earlier, it really doesn't matter if the subject is conscious or not. Watching it writhe in agony against its restraints can only give you so much data before it becomes rather tedious." He gave a half-shrug. "So, we may begin whenever you wish."

"I would appreciate that, if I may speak honestly." His tone was low and uneasy as he spoke, almost as if he felt ashamed to give a voice to his personal feelings. "As we've unfortunately just witnessed, it's much safer for all involved if the B.O.W. remains unconscious. I wouldn't ask you to do as such if it were against your wishes. But if you truly do feel that it will not limit your research potential, I'll gladly accept your orders." He bowed his head slightly and grabbed his walkie-talkie, speaking into it the objective he had just received.

While he briefed his men, Marcus worked on the buttons of the console. Each click caused the screen to flash with a muffled crackle as it changed to a different scene within the neighboring room. Though there were several cameras with the vision to witness the upcoming experiment, he settled on the aerial view. He figured that once the Hunter was completely submerged it would give him the best picture of the moment when it began to display critical signs of distress.

The men working with the Hunter had been Griffin and Victor, an obvious decision since Hugh was in no condition to aid them. And while those two were exhausted both physically and mentally, they retained enough strength to squeeze the B.O.W. into the cage with a relative sense of ease. Although, the gaps in the bars had been so substantial that if not for tethering its arms to the metal, a conscious test subject would have easily been able to force its arms through and wave them around in a reasonably aggressive manner. Given the horrors they've already witnessed tonight, to say they weren't taking any chances was quite the understatement.

Upon receiving Douglas' orders, they began to gradually lower the cage into the well, but neither let their grip dwindle even after the Hunter was fully submerged. A trail of bubbles rose to the surface, each of them bursting rapidly as new ones quickly emerged to take their place. They grew in frequency once the B.O.W. unknowingly opened its mouth; its body caught in a struggle to escape the external stimuli even while its mind had not yet recovered. Upon the passing of about thirty seconds, Marcus' composed voice resounded from the speakers throughout the room.

"You may remove the Hunter now. It must next be taken to the electric chair, but it's clearly becoming agitated and may break through the comatose state if this continues." A brief pause occurred, but another crackle of the speaker then preceded his next statement. "…Please, try to be cautious. If it were to awaken, you might have a moment of it remaining in a state of disorientation, but it wouldn't last long. Remain vigilant."

Heeding his advice, the men lifted the cage and unclasped the bars. Victor held it steady while Griffin went to work at removing the chains and untangling the Hunter's limbs from the iron. He finished up with an impressive speed which allowed the two to immediately get to work in carrying the drenched monster to the chair across the room. They forced it into the seat and again took to chaining it up, only to do so with an increased fervor once they began to hear low groans emerging.

"I'm going to start the machine now, so you may wish to step back. Otherwise, I can assure you that you'll be in for quite the shocking experience." A low chuckle followed his comment, which only caused the two men to glance at each other with a hint of incredulity. Regardless, they took his suggestion and backed up until they were directly in front of the water well.

Marcus checked to make sure the remote was still set to maximum voltage. Confirming that it was, he pressed the switch.

Immediately, electricity began to dance around every needle that protruded from the chair, with the discharge traveling along the Hunter's skin with such a force that it must have felt as though it were burrowing beneath every single one of its sturdy scales. The sudden shock to its innermost flesh caused the monster's eyes to fly open as the shrillest shriek yet had erupted from its mouth, so loud that even Marcus in the opposite room felt the need to cover his ears.

The amplified conductivity from the water had been enough to tear away much of the Hunter's impressive natural resilience to electricity, just as Marcus figured would be the case. The maximum voltage allotted to the chair was now enough that they could actually see the occasional bolt of voltage bouncing around the B.O.W.'s skin. Where these sparks were, a sudden darkening of the scales and flesh beneath it had occurred. For the men that were witnessing this firsthand, they couldn't evade the stench of burning flesh.

It was only after an entire minute that Marcus finally stopped the machine, with the test subject completely fried and likely having died long before its torment even ended.

Marcus turned to Douglas with his face initially shrewd and focused, but then let it relax into a somehow devious smile. "I suppose this serves as an appropriate retaliation for the damages done to you and your men, as well as for what was done to my property. Surely, you could agree to that much."

"I can't believe I'm saying this, but…" With a soft chuckle, Douglas shook his head in amusement and placed his hand on his hip. "…It did get what it deserved."

Voicing his agreement once more, Marcus went to back to jotting the new developments down on his notepad. At the same time, the door to the testing chamber opened, revealing the sight of Griffin and Victor aiding Hugh through the room. Douglas took one glance toward the trio before looking away without another word.

Once Marcus finished the outline of his notes, he resumed speaking while continuing to skim through the information he had just recorded. "I was able to gather quite the pool of data from that room alone, and with only two experiments, even! Excellently done, each of you." Though he gave them praise, he made no effort to actually regard them with any change in facial expression.

"I do believe there isn't much left to gain from repeating the experiments in that room, however. Next time, I'd like to utilize a different area that's well-equipped for endeavors such as these." He finally lifted his gaze and then took note of the ailing Hugh. He placed the tip of his pen on his chin, soon after shaking his head with a look of indifference. "Hm. I suppose it's for the best that we wait before moving on to the next experiment, though. I'm certain all of you could use the rest, with that one in particular in need of medical attention as soon as possible."

"I'm afraid you're right about that..." Douglas replied with a clear tone of dismay. "Again, I must offer my apologies for the trouble my men have caused you. We will return as soon as you wish it—even tomorrow, if you'd like."

Initially Marcus displayed a look of disbelief, but then let slip a chuckle along with a shake of his head. "Please. For that officer's injuries alone, at the minimum, he must have dislocated his shoulder if not completely fractured it. The bite and claw wounds will most definitely need sutures, as well, and of course that will require an extended recovery time." He shrugged indifferently before returning his gaze to Douglas. "I can't say I know much, if anything, about how you combat-oriented men tend to work. But he is one of your team members and cannot simply be replaced, and just as well should not be left behind nor made to attend assignments that he's in unsuitable health for. Am I correct in these assumptions?"

He looked away for a few seconds, only to reluctantly nod upon looking back. "That is correct, Sir."

"Yes, I thought so." Turning away, he went back to looking over his notes and thus continued talking with a more inattentive tone. "Take a few weeks off, if you'd like. I'm certainly in no rush, and I quite frankly don't care if Umbrella feels otherwise. If they complain, you can tell them to just file the report against me." His lips curled into a tight-lipped smile. "It'll go straight into the trash, but they're welcome to waste their time writing it out, if it makes them feel any better."

At this, Hugh finally stepped forward. "I appreciate your concern, Doctor, I really do. But I couldn't ask you to delay your work for my sake. Please, I'd be glad to—"

"If that's what the doctor wants, then that's what we're doing." Douglas remarked sharply to cut him off, not even in the mood for the officer's resolve to fight off the pain and keep going. Although this was likely because he understood that they really didn't have a choice in the matter, since no amount of bravery could change the fact that Hugh was completely incapable of dealing with the dangers of B.O.W.s in his present state. As much as it pained him to postpone an important assignment, Marcus was right that they would require at least a few weeks to recover.

He could only be thankful that his current boss was willing to accept that and to even tell them to do it. It honestly struck him as unusual, given his typical employers. They were always in such a rush to get their results; they completely disregarded the consequences of their experiments so long as the sacrifices had nothing to do with them. He was used to this, and he could even say that he expected nothing less.

He really hadn't been sure what to expect when he was given this assignment under Dr. Marcus. Not much had been known about the man, certainly not to the general public of Umbrella. But as the rumors went, the man was often regarded as an oddball, and maybe even a bit of a kook. Douglas didn't disbelieve that description, especially because he easily could have thrown the same one at any of the scientists he had previously worked for. But given what he knew now, he had to admit that the man wasn't so bad. Strangely enough, he really did stand apart from the other employees, particularly the higher-ups. Maybe that in itself had been part of the reason he was shunned so harshly by the few who spoke of him…men that he had personally seen give orders far more cruel than any he heard from Marcus.

"You have my thanks, Dr. Marcus." He added with a more lighthearted tone, perhaps even smiling beneath the secrecy of his helmet. "We'll return as soon as Hugh makes his recovery. I'll brief Umbrella on the situation, as well, although I trust that they shouldn't have an issue with it."

---

May 20th, 1982

---

"Well, here we are." Marcus declared; his face and voice sharing a distinct sense of apathy. "This is where I'd like to begin the next phase of testing. As you might imagine, the layout makes it quite ideal for B.O.W. research."

This was apparent enough from the large glass window that stood above the control console and perfectly overlooked the room below it. It wasn't hard to envision a team of scientists huddled together in the upper room, lab coats and all, watching their test subject run around the narrow pathways in an attempt to escape the confining space. Of course, such a tactic would quickly prove itself to be to no avail once the fences popped up and destroyed any lingering hope the subject might have had for freedom.

Still, the difference here was that the only scientist around had forgone his lab coat to wear a plain suit. And in the place of fellow researchers, he was instead accompanied by four men, each of them obscured entirely by their black body armor and carrying several bags with varying degrees of weight.

"The previous room was designed primarily to test the Hunters' durability to more uncommon manners of execution, such as electricity and impalement." Pointing to the letter pinned to the front of his clipboard, he ran his finger beneath the paragraphs as he spoke. "Those were good for gathering data, and Umbrella would do well to keep that information in mind. But now, I believe it's best that we move on to a threat much more likely to be faced by a bioweapon—gunfire."

"We expected as much," Douglas began as he stepped forward and raised one of the large bags he held, finally concluding with, "so we came prepared." He went to the farthest table and unzipped the bulkier of the bags, reaching in and removing a rather imposing gun that looked to be some sort of rifle. Glancing toward the backboard that extended upward from the table, he stood the weapon up using one of the hooks that lined the board's midpoint. He repeated this for the rest of the guns as well as the ones that were stuffed into the other bag.

The other men did the same with the bags they brought. And while they chiefly had taken to displaying their artillery on the opposite table, they did need to borrow the other one once they began to run out of space.

Marcus could only watch the bizarre sight with a complete look of bafflement, for several reasons.

First of all, was that the purpose of those bizarrely-designed shelves and hooks? It wasn't as if he came in here often enough to ponder their usage, but whenever he did, he had just assumed they were meant for hanging coats. Still, he did have to admit that it wasn't among his best theories. Hanging coats over tables couldn't have been a common practice, but the rest of the facility had already given him such low expectations for logic in the design plans that he genuinely didn't think much of it. But considering what he knew now about this room's true purposes, it did make much more sense for the shelves to have been intended for the storage of firearms.

As for the second reason… He felt more than a little perturbed by the sight of several armored men roaming around the room—which suddenly began to feel horribly suffocating—and messing around with what seemed to be a near endless supply of guns. It wasn't as if he had a fear of guns, themselves, but men? Umbrella's men? Those, he was not so trusting of. Even if they were the same officers he met with two weeks ago, that understanding could do little to stop the paranoia of his mind and the perspiration of his temple. But at the very least, perhaps the familiarity would allow him to weakly call out their names before they put the final bullet in his head…

…Granted, he was certain that he was simply acting out heavily due to the room they were in. Of course, just beneath the hatch at the end of the console was the lovely little button that would turn his life and home to a pile of rubble. This had been the first time he visited ever since that day, so it was a homecoming he wasn't all that thrilled about to begin with. Maybe his apprehension could have been lessened if his battle-hardened associates didn't decide to lay out enough weapons to arm an entire branch of the military, though.

But to calm his shaken nerves, he needed only look to the facts of the situation. Even if, theoretically, the officers had been acting cordial in an attempt to move the experimentation phase to this room, where they could easily access the self-destruct switch upon his untimely execution…why would they do that? He was aiding Umbrella with their research—doing their work for them. They certainly weren't going to do anything to him until they got their data, so he had no reason to worry…at least at the present moment.

"Unless you're planning to fight an army of B.O.W.s while we're here, I do believe you're more than just prepared." He added upon forcing a humorous curve to his lips. "I suppose you may use whatever you feel is best for the job. I'd simply suggest you first use the ones that are less…powerful, if that is something you can even determine. Simply so that we can collect more data before killing them, of course."

"Absolutely, that won't be a problem." Douglas affirmed, looking back to Marcus with a nod. Afterward he placed a hand on his waist and turned his attention to the three man who had gathered by the door after finishing with their task. "Go and secure the B.O.W.s. Remember your orders." He commanded with a sharp edge to his voice. The officers gave a grunt of affirmation and descended the staircase behind them, exiting the room seconds later.

"B.O.W.s?" Marcus asked and rose a brow. "You are planning to use more than one at a time, then?" Before the commander could reply, Marcus gave a slow nod and resumed his thought. "Ah, that does make sense. In order to properly test the B.O.W., it's crucial to determine their ability to work in cohesion with one another. Naturally, I'm well aware of how important that trait is within bioweapon research." He grinned, unable to keep his mind from wandering back to thoughts of his leeches and how much they excelled in that regard. He was confident that these Hunters could not do nearly as good of a job, but at least that wasn't his problem.

"Anyhow, that just makes this room even more up to the task." He waved his hand in the direction of the control console. "By the use of those buttons, gates will rise in the room below. By keeping your officers behind them, they'll be able to test their artillery against the subject from the safe distance of a few feet away. And from what I can tell, the gates appear to be quite sturdy, so we shouldn't have to worry about the Hunter being able to destroy them."

"That won't be necessary." He hadn't shifted in the slightest, staring directly ahead with his voice firm. "We have been ordered to test both the strength and durability of the B.O.W. If we were to make use of obstacles, it would only result in the loss of potential data."

At this, Marcus gave him a sideways glance while a look of skepticism was written clearly on his face. "I'm certain you understand that they are as good as dead, then, correct?" The man remained silent, causing Marcus to cross his arms with a light scoff. "Just as I thought… You really are just Umbrella's pawns. If they order it, you must lay down your life without even a moment of hesitation."

"…This was my decision to make." Douglas coldly asserted, his voice lacking any discernable emotion. "Of my men, Hugh made a mistake that easily could have proven fatal for all involved. A soldier can never afford to make such a grave error, and for that he must face the consequences." His masked gaze trailed downward. "Victor, just as well, failed to prevent this incident from occurring. They will be the ones to face the B.O.W.s in combat. If this results in the loss of their life, then…so be it."

There was no time to permit Marcus a response due to the man going on and on, almost frantic to further justify his callous words.

"There's no use in feigning concern over the outcome. It's clear to see that their behaviors would only lead to this result in the future, so it's of no consequence for it to happen now rather than later." Shaking his head, his tone became more hostile and his movements were animated and completely stood in contrast to his usual stoicism. "They behaved nothing like a soldier should. Not only did they cause that disaster, but countless times during the turmoil they put their own lives in danger just to save the others, rather than focusing on the objective at hand. A soldier must place victory as their highest and sole priority—to do anything else is a direct opposition to all that they have been taught!"

He observed the peculiar outburst indifferently, only finding it to be rather telling of the man's true nature. It was clear that it was only a script he was forced to read, one that surely went against his earnest beliefs. Marcus didn't find this to be surprising, however. In fact, it solidified the theory he had already concocted on the matter previously.

"And yet you did the same, did you not?" His tone was apathetic and he gave a half-shrug. "In the heat of the turmoil, you sought to save them even while knowing that it went directly against your orders."

"…You rewound the footage."

"I did." He replied with a nod. "While the incident itself was rather unfortunate, I can't deny that it provided excellent research data. Umbrella, no doubt, will be impressed with my findings." His expression suddenly grew severe. "I suppose they weren't so impressed with your actions, though, if they're ordering you to kill off your own men because of them."

Now before Douglas could hope to counter this claim, Marcus was the one to continue speaking.

"You know, if I were a man of theories—of course, I could never be." He added with a clear trace of sarcasm. "I might even suggest that you were told to give those two the wrong measurements for the sedative." He looked toward the silent soldier and perceived the slightest twitch in movement, letting out a soft chuckle at the subtle confirmation. "But you didn't follow those orders, not intentionally. You were much too unprepared and startled by the fact it had awoken so soon. For that, I could almost believe that you gave them the correct amount. But, even in spite of your defiance to your orders, those two made an unforeseen mistake." With a particularly arrogant tone and a smile that matched it, he looked toward the outwardly expressionless officer. "That'd certainly make for an interesting turn of events, wouldn't it?"

Through clenched teeth, he spat, "I believe you scientists would do well to pay no mind to matters that aren't your business."

"As far as I'm concerned, it is my business when it happens under my roof." He remarked as his expression grew irritated, but he quickly let it drop to one of objectivity. "Regardless, it's quite obvious that someone was meant to die on that day. And because you cost them that level of combat data, blood must be shed today. I've known the way Umbrella works for quite a while now, so you needn't feign ignorance with me."

A few seconds of a heavy silence enveloped the room. Douglas finally shook his head and looked back to him. "…This conversation is not essential to our assignment, Dr. Marcus." Though his tone had since settled to a state of calm, one could still detect a hint of impatience within it.

"That's a matter that could easily be debated," he assured him quickly. "But I have already made my point, so I can agree that further discussion is without merit." He gave an indifferent shrug and walked toward the staircase, peering down to see if any movement could be heard below. Determining that there didn't appear to be any, he went back to the chair and took a seat. "Regardless… If you don't wish to make use of the gate mechanism to keep your men safe, at least order them to make use of one of those gates by the wall. There's a corridor back there that's perfect for keeping B.O.W.s locked up, so it will give the officers more time to prepare."

Douglas approved of the request, surely relieved by the change of subject, as well. And once the room returned to a state of quiet, he directed his attention behind him. He grabbed one of the firearms off the table and—while it appeared to the combat-inept scientist to be him fumbling around and possibly being about to shoot someone—he was, in reality, carefully taking it apart.

Marcus watched with a clearly puzzled expression, even craning his neck in an attempt to get a better view and decipher what was apparently the biggest mystery of the present moment. After a few minutes, he finally submitted to what he should have just asked in the first place.

"…What are you doing?"

"Examining them." He replied blankly, not removing his focus from the task before him for even a second. "The guns they supplied us with are so old and worn out; I'm not convinced that all of them even work. I can try to clean them out to the best of my ability, but without the right tools there's only so much that can be done." He then used his temporarily free hand to wave it in a reassuring motion. "But there's no need for you to worry. I'm certain that some, if not most, are still functioning well enough to use against the B.O.W.s in the upcoming trial."

It was then that Marcus realized in Douglas' hand had also been a cloth, and he was using it to wipe between the crevices of the dismantled parts. "I see…" He mumbled, still appearing somewhat confused by the subject. Raising a brow, he crossed his arms and continued. "Are guns really so high-maintenance? I wasn't aware that they even could get that much dirt in them…"

"You'd be very surprised, Doctor." One might have perceived a touch of humor in his voice as he stared at the part still in his grasp, beginning to scrub out the grime just a bit more rigorously.

"I have no doubts about that." He replied with a chuckle. "But if you need tools, I believe there's some in that locker. I have no idea if they're the kind you're looking for, but feel free to make use of them if you'd like."

Upon the suggestion, Douglas placed down the weapon part and went to the locker, pulling the doors open. To his surprise, there was actually a decent selection of tools and trinkets to work with, and some looked to be perfect for his purposes. He looked back to Marcus with a smile—not that the doctor could see it past the helmet, anyway.

"Thanks, these should work for quite a few of them. We did bring some extra parts as well, so we may even be able to repair some of the inoperative guns." He mumbled to himself as he grabbed a few of the tools and closed the locker, appearing like he was already planning ten steps ahead for how he would go about the repairs. He immediately resumed his efforts at the table, only this time with an even greater enthusiasm.

Marcus opted to leave it at that, realizing that he was quite the fish out of water on the subject of weaponry. This discussion really only provided him the realization that it was a good thing he was a scientist and not a soldier…

Although… While he watched the man work, for a brief moment, the sight of his ardent focus on the firearms brought back a recollection of the facility's former assistant director.

Davids had been another one that loved that sort of thing. He could talk about all of the new guns coming out all day and night, and of course he kept his own collection in the best condition possible. There were a few times he even tried to discuss them with Marcus, only for him to stop rather quickly once he realized to his chosen recipient, his rants and ravings were a bunch of gibberish going through one ear and out the other. Looking back, Marcus probably could have tried a little harder to pay attention…

But while he thought of it, another similarity between the two aside from a fascination with guns and an overall somber personality was that they both had the misfortune of working for Umbrella. They were both destined to be thrown aside by that same company the moment their usage expired. Marcus had been the one to do so to Davids, but when would Douglas meet the same fate? It was a question better off not asked, but Marcus could only hope it was one that he would never be the one to answer.

He shook his head, not wishing to think on it any longer. He needed to keep his focus on the present moment; not worrying about the past and honestly, not even the future. Right now, he just needed to get all of this Hunter testing business out of the way so he could afford the luxury of a traveling mind…

He went back to skimming through his papers to pass the time. Douglas, meanwhile, busied himself with examining and tweaking the weapons scattered around the room, surprisingly even mumbling to himself and on some occasions sounding as if he was having entire conversations on his own. It was quite humorous that the most vocal the man had been throughout this entire endeavor was while speaking to himself, but Marcus really wasn't one to talk…

After what felt like an eternity, they finally heard movement from below. A low squeak and click signaled the door had been opened, so Douglas immediately dropped what he was doing to have a look. Watching them from above, he saw two of the men carrying one Hunter, with the more muscular of the officers pulling the second one through the door by himself. He was about to scold them for not thinking to bring one at a time, but he only grunted and hurried down the steps to help the solo officer with the burden.

Marcus stood and observed from the window. Once the group entered the chamber and was about to reach the first opening, Douglas must have stopped to give them their next instructions. The chains that bound each of the monsters' limbs were removed, and then both of the unconscious creatures were dumped into the enclosure. Marcus pressed a few buttons that caused the gates to rise and block off that opening along with the one at the opposite end of the wall.

"…most of them, so there's more than enough in working order." Douglas was just about done with briefing the other officers by the time they returned to the upper room. Afterward, he looked back to the group and folded his arms. "Since there are two B.O.W.s, two officers will engage in combat with them. As such, I've chosen Hugh and Victor for this task." He gestured toward the table where he had mostly been working during their absence. It was covered with various models of pistols, rifles, shotguns, as well as machine guns—all of which he determined to be operative and ready to go. "Take your pick, but make certain you utilize the guns with less firepower before anything else. First and foremost, we're here to help Dr. Marcus gather data, so you will perform accordingly."

The two men nodded and went to work in picking out guns. They agreed that to cover all their bases, one would grab a pistol and shotgun while the other took the machine gun and rifle. They loaded up their guns and brought extra ammunition just in case. The next few minutes were shrouded by an intense silence, apart from the sounds of guns clicking and bullets being loaded. Soon enough, the two decided they were as ready as they would ever be.

Victor proceeded downstairs right away. Hugh prepared to follow, but he suddenly stopped himself. Turning, he took a step toward Marcus, who only regarded him with an expression so stony that for a moment he thought he'd have been better off following his associate. But this was something he felt he needed to do, so he simply cleared his throat and pressed on…no matter how forceful the man's cold eyes appeared to be.

"Hey, Dr. Marcus?" He finally greeted him meekly. He had momentarily looked off to the side with an awkward demeanor, but he quickly forced himself to meet the man's aloof gaze. "I, uh…just wanted to thank you for last time. I messed up bad, and I could have gotten you and everyone else hurt because of it. But because of your kindness in insisting that I take the time to rest, I was able to make an almost full recovery and I feel better than ever!" Even with his face obscured by the headgear, the cheer in his voice made it obvious that he must have been beaming beneath it.

"You know, it's gotta sound crazy, but I'm actually glad that I was chosen to participate here. Due to my mistake, I need to make it up to you and everyone else, too." He began to turn, grabbing the rest of his ammunition and stuffing it into his pockets before looking back to Marcus. "So, I hope to not disappoint you, Doctor. I'm going to do my best for your sake, so make sure you get every last detail for your notes, okay?" With this, he spun around and marched down the steps, soon after disappearing from view.

"No, please, don't do that… Please, don't dedicate your death for my sake…" His hushed words were no more than distant pleas, never to reach the officer's ears as he marched on, full of life, even as he came ever closer to his demise.

Once the solemn feeling in the air grew to be too much, Marcus turned his look of concern to Douglas. He had just gotten done ordering Griffin to grab some equipment and wait at the lower level in case of emergency. After he concluded this command and the officer left to fulfill it, Douglas only shook his head and returned to Marcus' side.

"…Best that you don't worry about it." His voice was low and masked his own sympathies, an attempt to keep up with his unfeeling façade even now. "This was my decision and mine alone. No matter what happens here, none of this will come back to you."

"I'm afraid every drop of blood that spills onto these floors will come back to me, one way or another." He thereafter shook his head before resting his cheek in his palm, leaning his elbows atop the console as he peered through the glass. To his surprise, the men below had taken notice of him and both gave a thumbs up to signal their readiness.

With a sudden crackle, Hugh's voice resounded through Douglas' radio. "We're ready to go, Captain. It looks like the B.O.W.s are starting to come to their senses too, so we better get this show on the road before they wake up too much!"

"They truly are fearless, aren't they?" He muttered with his eyes distant. "How could one so readily march to their own death? It's…illogical. They can't possibly expect to survive this, can they?" Marcus questioned to himself more than anything, but received no response other than Douglas holding a finger up to hush him. All the while, he assured the courageous officer to prepare himself since they were about to lower the bars.

Marcus said no more as he pressed a few buttons with the expectation of the gates opening and the carnage beginning, yet no such thing happened. Instead, several of the gates in the room ascended and descended simultaneously, with no movement from the two tightly sealed entrances. He stared at the buttons, puzzled. He had already pressed each of them several times, so why were those gates untouched? He had no problem with shutting them after they put the B.O.W.s in, so why could the reverse not be accomplished?

He bit his lip for a second while contemplating the situation. There was no doubt that the gates could be opened again, but perhaps the key was to press the buttons in a specific sequence? There were only three so it couldn't take long to figure out the correct order, but was that truly the solution…?

Just as he was about to try again, in the corner of his eyes he caught the sight of something unusual by the lower level. Right at the corner of the massive structure of stone and steel that encompassed the room, a square red button sat rather conspicuously. He stood and leaned forward to get a better view of it, then looked briefly back to the control console, only to shake his head once. He hunched down to press a different switch, readjusting the adjacent microphone and speaking into it.

"My apologies for the delay, but I do believe the only way to open those gates is to press that button to your side… Please, whenever you're ready."

The solemn voice echoed through the speakers in the room, both officers looking toward the source for just a moment. Afterward, Victor turned and pressed the button, stepping back and reaching for his machine gun while Hugh did the same for his handgun.

A feminine voice rang out.

"Battle sequence initiated… Locking door."

"Battle sequence?" Marcus shot up and leaned closer, his eyes darting to the exit from which bars suddenly ascended and blocked any chance of escape. Watching with uncertainty, his look of astonishment soon faded to one of despondency. "…I knew it. This room…he had planned for this from the very start."

The gates slowly rose before them; the exit was barred shut. The unsteady but recovering Hunters were alerted by the movement, letting out a low growl in unison. One slowly staggered out from the entrance in front of them. The other grew impatient and began to move through the tunnel, its shaky pace quickening once it perceived a light radiating from what initially appeared to be a dead end. The moment it arrived, it came face to face with the two soldiers and hissed, its back arching forward and preparing for attack.

Without a moment to lose they raised their guns and began firing, bullets pelting the monster but doing nothing to halt its advance. It gave off a muffled growl and deliberately took sluggish steps with the intent of showing just how little their weapons could do to its impenetrable scales. As the rain of bullets continued, its glowing eyes stared past them and its snarl became a twisted grin.

The men mutually followed its line of sight and turned, perceiving a clawed hand suddenly spring forward from behind the corner. It was done almost mockingly, a cackling-like hiss resounding with it.

"We're gonna get cornered… I'll take that one!" Victor shouted and ran back a few steps, prompting no response but a grunt of agreement. Hugh then redirected his attention to the B.O.W. in front of him and continued his futile barrage, bullets clattering to the floor while the Hunter's pace began to quicken.

"This isn't working, Vic!" Hugh shouted as he continued to distance himself with every bullet shot in vain, coming back to back with his associate who was stuck in the same predicament.

"Switch weapons—we need the big guns!" He yelled in reply while reaching to grab his rifle. Victor's opposition came closer to forcing the two into a tight space with no way out, so he made the sudden decision to sprint forward and shove past the Hunter, reaching another corner and stopping as he readied his rifle. He leaned it on his shoulder and peered through the scope, aiming straight for the head. He pulled the trigger and lowered the gun, expectant to see the Hunter drop after such a direct shot to its skull—but no such thing happened.

The bullet did not bounce off as the others had, but it was instead implanted in the monster's skin as scarlet dripped from the wound. The monster snarled and ceased its movement, slowly stretching its deadly hands to the wound. Locating the protrusion, it abruptly tore the bullet out, hissing in pain and hurling the round back at him.

Victor avoided the projectile yet stood in disbelief over the display of such horrific strength. But this moment of anguish appeared to last for not even a second as he immediately raised his gun once more and fired even more rapidly. He disregarded all notions of hitting a weak point, his desperation and hope building as he attempted to stagger it through bombardment.

The monster roared in response, its expression losing all humor and turning to pure rage at the increased aggression in its opponent's attacks. It winced as each bullet dug deeper into its skin, trails of blood flowing across its body and furthering its anger. Without warning the Hunter sprang forward and scratched at Victor with such a speed that he had no chance to evade. Pinning him to the wall, it growled and dug its nails straight through his armor and reached below the skin. A scream erupted from the man's mouth and only grew more agonized once the monster suddenly ripped its claws downward and left a trail of lacerated flesh.

"Vic?!" Without thinking, Hugh in his panic had looked to the direction of the noise. The staggered Hunter took advantage of the distraction to rise from its knees and leap upward, knocking the soldier to the ground with a crash. It towered above him and glared with its bloodlust growing. Next it had gripped the man's chest plate with its massive claws, and with an abrupt movement it tore the armor off to expose his undershirt and even better—his vulnerable flesh. It dove downward and sank its teeth deep into his torso, reopening the wounds that had only just began to heal as he let out an ear-piercing cry.

Victor's breathing grew ragged and blood was streaming from beneath his broken armor while the Hunter hovered so close that its warm breath clouded his eye coverings. He mustered up his declining strength to raise his rifle, pointing it directly at the Hunter's head and pulling the trigger. The bullet sent the monster flying back, and he used this instant of distance to aim and fire once more—only to realize the gun was empty. He instinctually reached for his bullet pouch, but immediately realized the bioweapon was already making its way back and would never permit him the chance to reload.

In a split-second decision, he tossed the rifle aside and grabbed his machine gun, forcing himself onward to gain even a foot of space while the Hunter dashed at him faster than he could ever hope to move. The panic set in but he kept his finger fixed on the trigger, the automatic bullets raining down on the monster but failing to slow its movement in the slightest.

The overwhelming speed and adrenaline of the Hunter was too much to keep up with and Victor grew more frantic with his every graceless step back. A few seconds of this chase caused the Hunter to grow agitated and swipe at him, and Victor's attempt at dodging resulted in a fatal stumble. He fell backward and landed on the ground, only for the Hunter to pounce and grab hold of his left arm with its teeth. He cried out while attempting to pry the limb from the monster's mouth, but even with one arm, he refused to let go of the trigger.

The blood loss was becoming so unbearable that through his desperation and clouded vision he began waving his firing arm, in such a state of frenzy to hit the Hunter that he was unknowingly spraying everything but the B.O.W. Even without feeling the brunt of the assault, the monster was enraged by it and grabbed the man's other arm with its claws. It kept its teeth lodged into his left arm and tightened its grip on the right, and without warning it thrust his arm to the ground as bullets flew backward—with the trajectory pointing straight to the window where his associates remained.

Standing with his clipboard and pen in hand, Marcus was writing something down with an expression that appeared on the brink of outright nausea. The moment he lifted his gaze to again force himself to witness the horrific sight—a bullet crashed through the window and flew not even inches from his cheek.

"Get down!" Douglas commanded and suddenly yanked Marcus by the arm to force him to the floor. He shielded him with his own body, the sound of gunfire and screams ringing in their ears while bullets and glass fell to the floor and scattered around them.

Less than a minute passed before the overpowering sounds of the uproar finally came to a stop—all ceased at once.

Douglas stood first, walking forward as glass cracked beneath his boots. He looked through the shattered window, hardly anything left of it aside from the jagged, blade-like shards that lined much of the edges. He said nothing as Marcus rose and walked to his side, cautiously peering outward—only to immediately gag and withdraw.

Hugh laid by the corner closest to the window, his helmet along with most of his upper body armor having been torn off. His youthful face was splattered with blood, the blue of his eyes fixed emptily on the distance. The shotgun he once held with hopes of protecting himself was snapped in two, an apt depiction of the moment those hopes were crushed.

An entire chunk of his waist sat inches away from his body, connected only by the pool of blood. The Hunter remained standing over him, leaning down and pulling at the intestines that dangled from his exposed insides. It tore them out and shrieked with glee, only to then toss them to the side and reach its giant hand in to dig even deeper through the already-desecrated body. It was evident that the beast took no small amount of glee from the blood that poured out with each motion.

The sight afforded by Victor at the opposite end of the corridor granted no hope of reprieve. His left arm was ripped off with so much of the muscle having been eaten that the bloodied bone was visible in several areas. The right arm, while still connected, was bent so unnaturally that it was clearly broken. Although his body had been partially blocked by the center wall so his head wasn't visible—that is, until Marcus realized this was because his head was no longer on his body. Taking a step to the side, he could now see that the missing part had been cleanly taken off his shoulders and laid a few feet away.

The second Hunter appeared to be pacing around the motionless head, circling it, even. After a few seconds, it batted at it and sent it rolling toward the body with a stream of blood that followed. The monster let out a demented shriek and bared its teeth in a grin as it ran forward in pursuit, appearing as though it had been playing an innocent game at the cost of innocent lives.

"…You should be taking your notes, Doctor." The commander finally broke the uncomfortable silence, refusing to tear his gaze from the sight nor did he flinch in the least. "The test was a tremendous success, the participants performed admirably."

"Yes, I've no doubt Umbrella will agree. They'll take immense pleasure from my account of this carnage, I'm certain." He remarked with disgust, again walking forward and looking to his associate in disbelief. "…I only wonder how Umbrella made men as battle-hardened as you. To stare at those mutilated bodies—bodies of your subordinates, and say nothing… Even I… I couldn't…" He stopped himself abruptly, not willing to let slip anything that the man didn't need to know. He then after shook his head and crossed his arms, looking aside. "Umbrella's security service… I do believe you've been trained in ways that would put even elites of the military to shame."

"…If protecting Umbrella's security will allow me to grant security to myself and my family, then I'll do what I must." He stared on at the massacre, letting a soft sigh escape his lips.

"I was among the first to enlist in the U.S.S. when they formed a few years back. The time I've spent with them may be a drop in the bucket in the grand scheme of things, but even still, I've seen many men come and go throughout this job. Bodies, blood… I've seen death in ways you could never imagine, things that couldn't even compare to what we've witnessed here. It can only be said that at the end of repetition will always lie desensitization…" He glanced away for a moment, looking back to Marcus with a sideways glance. "…I'm certain you've felt the same."

He gulped but said nothing.

Douglas turned and passed him, walked toward the door before coming to a sudden stop. "…Dr. Marcus, two more Hunters remain allotted to you. When would you like to begin the next experiment? We can engage in combat with them, if you wish for it."

"Keep them." He immediately retorted. "No variance can be expected from repeating the experiment. I have no need for them." He stated coldly, folding his arms together as he walked forward and again stared at the blood strewn battlefield below.

"Is that so?" He asked indifferently. "We could always return to the prior testing chamber, if you desire it."

"No." He remarked quickly, growing just a tad irritated. "I only ever agreed to help with the research, I never said that I intended to utilize all of the test subjects." He turned and looked toward Douglas, though he was met only with the man's back as he faced squarely ahead. "I've fulfilled Umbrella's minimum requirements for data, so they have no reason to bug me any further. Tell them those exact words, if you'd like."

At this, Douglas finally turned to look back at him. "Umbrella would not wish to go back on their offer, even if you decline to make use of them. They have plenty more of these B.O.W.s, and because they're so thankful for your assistance, I'm certain they'd insist on you keeping them."

Marcus finally sighed and, upon sending one more disgusted glance to the sight below, shook his head. "…If they must persist so strongly on it…fine, I will oh-so graciously accept their offer." He spat with venom nearly dripping from his words. "As I've said, I have no interest in further research on them. But if they truly don't care about that, then I'll find somewhere to store them."

"And what of those two?" Douglas asked and nodded toward the window.

Marcus honestly wanted nothing to do with those…things. Even throughout his extensive B.O.W. research, he found none of them had ever been as graceless and appalling at those monsters. The Eliminators, the Lurkers, even the zombies. They were savage, certainly, but not a single one of them could have competed with the level that the Hunters had demonstrated. That ruthless nature might have been the future of B.O.W. research, but he truly wished for no part in it. Whatever happened to raising monsters that were intelligent, controllable?

…But regrettably, that was exactly the thing that piqued his interest.

It was unthinkable for Hunters to ever be capable of control to the degree that his leeches were, but they were, in fact, intelligent. He could see it through their mannerisms in combat, there was something very methodical about their approach. They would mock their opponent and even delay their murderous instinct to instead torture their foe, preferring to rip them apart piece by piece than to outright kill them. It was apparent that the release of death would not come until they finally grew tired of their torturous games.

So, vicious though they might have been, they were capable of postponing their desire for sustainment far more than he had seen with any of his previous B.O.W.s. If their mind was capable of formulating enough thought for that, it was feasible that they could be trained to reach some level of control, perhaps even enough to differentiate friend from foe. If he was correct on this, it was possible that they would fit perfectly with his upcoming plans to safeguard his facility…

"…Would you be able to sedate them and take them back to that enclosure?" He asked and returned to the console, observing the buttons and placing a hand on his chin. "That…battle sequence, whatever it was, has not completed. I assume that will require the use of this console, so the gate down there should remain shut until then. You should be able to administer it to them through the bars, if you're careful enough."

He then glanced toward the maimed corpses below and turned back to Douglas. "And…if you don't mind, if you could take those bodies to the enclosure, as well. They should be able to provide enough nourishment to them for some time. Unless, of course, you would want those back…?"

He, too, sent a glimpse toward the bodies, only to let out a heavy sigh. "…There's not much left to take back." Shaking his head, he turned and began walking back toward the staircase. "But that won't be an issue, I'll do as you ask."

It didn't take long for Douglas to accomplish this task, so after sedating each of the Hunters, Marcus was able to end the battle sequence and open the gates. Douglas did exactly as he was told, dragging the Hunters into the enclosures with the assistance of Griffin, although he insisted that he would be the only one to carry the officers to the destination. Afterward, the gates in front of the B.O.W.s were slammed shut.

He slowly walked through the doorway; his armor covered in the blood of his former allies as well as the monsters who murdered them. He prepared to go through the exit, but Marcus met him at the bottom of the staircase. He appeared uneasy, looking to the side and shaking his head.

"I…apologize that you've been roped into Umbrella's mess. Forced to become their lackey and allow such acts of depravity to unfold before your very own eyes, surely even to commit similar acts yourself, given your orders. All of this simply because…there's no place left for you elsewhere."

At this, Douglas turned and replied…

"…I could say the same to you, Doctor."