Notes:- Here be chapter four!
The Facility Endgame
Chapter Four
It hadn't taken Chris and Brad long to find a lift. They'd backtracked through the operating room and to the first corridor they'd originally been in. They'd followed it along and it had turned a corner, finally leading to a lift. They'd rushed in and taken it to the lowest floor that it would go to. It turned out that the lowest it went was the Maintenance floor. They stepped out into a recreation area. It consisted of a large rectangular room with dull metallic walls. The only windows were small brass portholes, evenly spaced along each wall. At the opposite end of the room was a large door. A metal gantry encircled the room with metal grill stairs to their right, which led up to it. To their left were a couple of pool tables and in the back corner, a small bar which looked as if it had been hastily constructed using plywood. Tarnished metal chairs and tables were dotted around the room. Some had glasses atop them and others had playing cards, chess sets and draughts, all laid out like they were in the middle of a game.
"Do you think Jill and the others are alright"? Brad asked. Since they'd been separated, they'd largely been silent. Chris shrugged. If he was truly being honest, the only thing he really cared about right now was finding Leon. He supposed that he did feel bad about what he'd said to Jill but as far as he was concerned, she'd deserved it.
"So Bradley, what have you been up to anyway"? Chris asked. He couldn't stand the silence anymore. If he was talking crap, his mind wasn't playing through each and every terrible scenario that could've happened to Leon. "What did you do before you joined the esteemed ranks of the BSAA? Which, by the way, I'm guessing you bought your way into but that's another story…"
"I was a security guard for a while" Brad replied, sweeping the room with his gun as he spoke.
"So you failed to get into the British police force then"? Chris said matter-of-factly, fingering one of the chess pieces on the table. Leon was a proficient chess player. It wasn't a game that he'd ever really understood. He knocked the piece, the bishop he recalled it to be, over and moved on.
"No"! Brad's tone was a little too high-pitched, a little too defensive and Chris knew that he'd hit the nail right on the head. "I wanted to be a security guard actually-"
"Yeah" Chris snorted with a smug grin. "Just like every other security guard. They all wanted to be a security guard first"
"When did you realise you were gay"? Brad asked, obviously wanting to direct the conversation away from his definite failed attempt to become a police officer in England. Chris made a mental note to forcibly extract the full story later.
"Probably around the same time you realised you weren't getting into the police force," Chris answered. It was so much easier this way. Keeping up the banter. It gave his mind something other to do than picture Leon's death. "What made you leave America anyway"?
"Don't know" Brad was shrugging, obviously attempting to come across as flippant but Chris wasn't fooled for a second. "There wasn't really much left for me in America" He moved towards the bar, ready to shoot should anyone or anything suddenly pop up from behind it. "And I'd always wanted to go to England"
"You got family there"? Chris asked.
"No" Brad was behind the bar now. It looked just like any other bar despite being hastily constructed of plywood. There was a basic shelf with rows and rows of clean glasses underneath the bar top and another shelf had been fixed to the wall holding all the different bottles of spirits. There was a cardboard box on the floor that looked as if it'd once been filled with packets of nuts. Brad's stomach rumbled in response. "My wife and daughter died in Raccoon…"
Chris almost dropped his gun. He looked at his former colleague, who was now studying the nearby vending machines with interest. He and Brad had never really been that close. Forrest, Kenneth, Barry and Jill. They'd been his closest friends in S.T.A.R.S. Brad had just been the fall guy, the guy who'd been the butt of his practical jokes, more of an acquaintance than a friend. And then after the mansion incident, he'd been the guy that'd let them down. It hadn't mattered that Brad had ultimately come back to rescue them. It was the fact that he'd deserted them in the first place. Chris was ex-military and had a strong sense of being part of a team. He'd been trained to never leave anyone behind. If you couldn't trust your fellow soldiers, you couldn't trust anyone. Brad's desertion had been hard for him to take. But in all the years he'd had to think about it, he'd never once thought about what Brad might've lost.
"Chris, check these vending machines out" Brad said. Chris blinked and came back to the present. He hurried over to the machines. "Looks like they've been pried open" Brad explained, pointing at the front of the first machine where the front of it was hanging slightly open. Chris pulled at the door and it swung open revealing the inside of the machine to be empty. It had obviously been looted at some point.
"Looks like we're not alone after all"
The further Leon moved down the corridor, the more unnerved he was getting. Luckily, whatever chemical had been released into the water was too diluted to do any harm to him. He was acutely aware of how impossible it was to move through the water without making noise and making noise wasn't something he wanted to do considering that he was completely unarmed. A part of him had been tempted to go back to the body dump and try and find his gun but the chances of him finding it in the darkness were tiny and he didn't really want to go back into that room anyway.
As he walked down the corridor, his eyes scanned every surface, looking for something that he could use as a weapon. He felt the blood in his veins turn to ice when, just a metre of so away from him, a patch of the wall was streaked with dark red blood. It dribbled down the wall and into the water. He thought again about going back but there was probably only one door that lead out of the body dump and he'd taken it. He stepped forwards, trying to move as silently as possible.
The blood streaks grew in both frequency and size as he continued down the corridor. It looked as if whatever had been attacked, had fought violently for its life. Something knocked against his calf and with immense trepidation, he looked down. He fought the urge to vomit when he saw that it was a ragged, messy lump of meat with what looked like the remains of a human hand attached to it. Further down the corridor, he could see more dark lumps in the water.
He paused. Thinking that he'd heard something. And he was right. There was movement in the water that wasn't him. It sounded like it was further up the corridor and it was impossible to tell whether it was human or not. There were no other sounds but that of its movement through the water, much like his own. His heart hammered in his chest. He needed a weapon and he needed one fast if he was going to stand any sort of chance against what was ahead. It was highly likely that whatever it was had attacked the person who was now floating around him in bits.
His left boot suddenly came into contact with something hard, almost making him stumble. He squinted in the half-light and could just about see something round on the floor underneath the water. With slightly trembling fingers, he reached down and picked it up. His hand closed around cold metal. He pulled it out of the water. A valve handle! And a heavy one at that. It had obviously been torn from the wall during the struggle. It wasn't an ideal weapon but it would do.
The splashing noise was louder now. Whatever was making it was coming for him. He flattened himself against the wall, wincing slightly as his back hit the cold surface. Above him, fixed to the ceiling, were more pipes. There was a chance he could get up there and press himself to the ceiling. The lack of bright lights would certainly help to hide him but he was pretty sure whatever it was would smell him anyway. His clothes, arms and face were covered in a disgusting mix of fluids from the bodies that he'd landed on and he smelt foul. He was certain that whatever it was would have to have no sense of smell in order to ignore his stench.
He froze as a deep throaty growl rumbled down the corridor. He saw movement in the shadows ahead of him. His hands tightened their grip on the valve handle. His body moved into an attack stance as the splashing grew louder and louder until he finally caught sight of the thing that had torn the body into pieces.
It stood mere metres away from him, taking up a large portion of the corridor's limited space. The creature reminded him of the ones he'd met in Wesker's recreation of the mansion. Hunters, Chris had called them. Only, unlike the Hunters, this creature was taller by at least a clear foot. It resembled a giant crab, hard shell plating covering most of its body. It stood on two, thick, solid looking legs. Its arms, again heavily plated, ended in vicious looking pincers that were covered in blood. It didn't appear to have a head. Its torso was topped instead by a large disc shaped shell that acted like a hood to a small, pink face, which appeared to be the only part of it that wasn't armoured. Leon could see a row of thick, sharp teeth sticking out either side of a dark vertical line that was its mouth.
It appeared to have noticed him as it let out another throaty growl. A thick tail that hung between its legs twitched, little spines quivering all the way along it. Its pincers opened and closed again, flexing whilst it considered its attack. Leon considered his own options. There was no way the valve handle would be able to crack the shell, no matter how hard he swung it. By the looks of it, the plating was at least an inch thick. Its weak spot seemed to be its face and if Leon had had a gun at his disposal, then he would've been able to hit the damn thing square in its face and killed it.
Without any further warning, the creature lunged towards him. One small mercy was that it seem to be rather slow and lumbering. It shambled down the corridor towards him. Leon swung the valve handle as hard as he could, hitting it directly in its exposed face. It let out a cry of pain and stumbled backwards. It's flailing arms struck out and Leon had to duck to avoid them. He swung the valve handle again, this time aiming at the creature's knees. He hit his target, sweeping its legs and the creature fell, letting out another surprised cry. One of its claws glanced Leon's leg, cutting into his thigh. He hissed in pain as he felt the blood start to trickle down his skin.
The creature was down on its knees. Leon swung the valve handle for a third time, hitting it directly in its face with an uppercut. Blood erupted from the mouth, spraying Leon's arms. It reeled backwards, falling onto its back with a splash. It lay there, seemingly dazed. Leon felt the loss of his gun and knife. He couldn't stick the valve handle through its face. It started to thrash around suddenly, arms and legs writhing in every direction. One of the wayward limbs struck Leon in the knee. Leon felt it give way and he crashed to the floor. He put his hands out to break his fall but it didn't stop him getting a mouthful of the stinking, fetid water. It had a slightly bleach like taste and he spat it out immediately. His hands scrambled in the water as he dodged the creature's thick leg.
He cried out in pain when something sharp sliced into his hand. His fingers wrapped around it and he yanked it out of the murky water. The pain in his hand and thigh seemed to dissipate when he realised that he was holding a short length of broken pipe. A short length of broken pipe with a horribly jagged edge. He turned around. The creature was still on its back, struggling to right itself like a turtle. Ignoring the pain in his hand and thigh, Leon leapt towards the creature. He dodged its limbs, which were now moving with desperation, and stood astride it. Using as much strength as he could muster, he drove the sharp end of the broken pipe straight into the creature's already bloody face. Leon's stomach flipped over itself as he heard the sickening crunch of the creature's skull shattering, followed closely by the wet sucking noise of the pipe ramming into its brain. It twitched for a few seconds, its body curling and writhing, before laying still. Leon's hands released the pipe and it stayed, buried deep in the creature's brain.
Breathing heavily, Leon collapsed against the wall. The contact of the cool metal against his back was welcome. It reminded him that yes, he was here and yes, this was real. Reality was so much easier to deal with than the flashbacks and nightmares. He was trained and he was a survivor. He could switch on his instincts and fight his way through anything and anyone. He looked down at his hand and examined the two-inch long gash across his palm. Like his thigh, it was still steadily oozing blood. He turned his attentions to his gun belt and fumbled in one of the pouches for a bandage. He finally located it and was pulling it out when something hard hit him over the head and his legs buckled under him as he felt the chemical smelling water soak him.
"So you never said what was in that diary you found" Kevin said as he, Jill and Carlos left the last office. The others in the tiny block had been considerably fuller than the first one but had, ironically, yielded less information. Computers had been password protected and filing cabinets had been sealed with a series of locks that had even stumped Jill. Not that she'd readily wanted to admit that. Although, it had been a rather sobering experience to find the first lock in god knows how many years that she couldn't pick.
"You don't want to know" Jill answered. She still shuddered to think about the words in that diary. She sincerely hoped that the mad scientist had met his maker. She didn't fancy running into him.
"That is, without a doubt, and ignoring everything that comes out of Chris' mouth, the most annoying phrase a person can say" Kevin replied. They had stepped into yet another glass corridor but neither of them paid any attention to it. Carlos was bringing up the rear, trudging along slowly, a frown on his face. "Obviously I do want to know, because I asked" Kevin continued with a smirk.
"I don't trust this place" Carlos' voice suddenly came from behind them. Kevin turned round and raised his eyebrow.
"Funny that. Given that it's an Umbrella facility" He shot back. "Wow, they really don't really ask for that much in the UBCS do they"?
"Puta mierda de la cabeza" Carlos muttered under his breath. He'd just been trying to make some conversation, actually remind Kevin and Jill that he was there. He looked upwards at the metal arches dotted with rivets that were spaced out along the length of the corridor. "Kinda reminds you of Bioshock doesn't it"?
"What"? Kevin asked.
"Y'know, Bioshock! It's this awesome Xbox game, don't you play games"? Carlos' tone was disparaging.
"No, I make love to my wife" Kevin fired back with a smug grin. "Is that why you're mad at him Jill? Because he's too busy playing his silly video games to give you the attention you deserve"?
Jill ignored the remark and sincerely hoped that Carlos would too. She turned to look at her boyfriend who was currently glaring at Kevin. His nostrils were flared in anger and it looked as though he'd been ready to say something back but had thought better of it. She knew that Kevin's digs about their relationship was getting to him and she knew just how much he wanted to know why she was being the way she was with him. She desperately wanted to tell him and put him out of his misery but whenever she'd tried, she couldn't find the words. It seemed so much easier to continue to push him away than to admit what was really going on.
Jill shook her head. She couldn't let her thoughts cloud her concentration. She needed to focus on their objective and that was looking for survivors. The office area had been deserted and it was beginning to look like the whole level had been cleared out. The lack of zombies or creatures meant that it was unlikely to be a virus so why exactly was the place dead? Could that one crazed researcher have done it? She wished that they had contact with Barry. She wanted to run her theories by him and see what he had to say about them. Barry was good like that. He had a knack of realising if you were barking up the wrong tree. Perhaps she should've listened when he'd aired his concerns about her dating Carlos…
"Oh look" Kevin said sarcastically. "Another door" He motioned to the door at the end of the corridor. "And hark! What joys! It's locked by a keypad"
"We'll see about that," Carlos muttered, pushing Kevin aside. The older man shrugged and stood back, aiming his gun at the door in readiness for it opening.
"You didn't tell me the boyf was a technical wizard" He commented, turning his attentions back to Jill as Carlos opened the maintenance flap beside the keypad.
"Debe ser el cable azul…" Carlos was muttering as he stared at the array of wires that confronted him.
"He used to do bomb disposal for UBCS before he was posted to Raccoon City" Jill explained, half watching Carlos work, half keeping an eye on the door. Carlos pulled at a blue wire, snapping it effectively. The door slid open silently revealing a small porch sized room which was completely empty aside from another small grey door which had a yellow and black sign attached to it which read 'Testing Area'. Kevin moved forward and placed his hand on the metal handle.
"Are we going for it"? He asked, turning back to Jill and Carlos who were being forced to stand shoulder to shoulder in the cramped space.
"We have to check everywhere for survivors" Jill replied with a confidence she certainly didn't feel.
"Even if we risk our own lives? Going in there and looking for anyone could get us killed" Carlos pointed out.
"And not going in there could mean they get killed" Jill countered.
"Nobility. I like it" Kevin butted in. "Come on Oliviera. We're seasoned professionals at this Crazed Umbrella Experiments game. I'm sure whatever's in there we can deal. Besides, there might be some pretty ladies"
"Might I remind you that you're having a baby with my best friend who just so happens to be your wife"? Jill said, a sharp look on her face.
"And I love her with all the love that its humanly possible to give" Kevin answered adamantly. "But there is still a little bit of James Bond in me who wants to rescue the lovely damsel in distress"
"You'll be in distress in a minute" Jill added threateningly. Kevin grinned at her sheepishly and pulled the door handle.
The door swung open inwards to reveal a large and expansive garden. Thick, lush grass stretched out in front of them like a luxury carpet. It was perfectly green, each blade sticking up and shining with the unnatural sort of health that one would expect from engineered grass. A couple of metres in front of them was a large, black, wrought iron archway with an Umbrella logo sat atop, exquisitely forged in the same iron as the arch.
"Oh shit. Are we in an Umbrella facility"? Kevin enquired with mock realisation. Jill shook her head, unable to take her eyes away from amazing sight of the garden.
Looking upwards, she could see that the whole room was a big glass dome with black lead separating the glass into panes. She could see how it would look impressive to some visiting investor. A paved path was beneath their feet, stretching through the archway and turning a corner, becoming lost in a large clump of giant flowers of all colours and shapes. The perfumes emanating from the blooms should've created a horrible mix of heady sweetness but the mixture of scents seemed to blend perfectly. Giant toadstools, the size of trees loomed over them and when she looked into the distance, Jill could see more of them, plus more flowers, stretching off endlessly. Towering over all of this, in what appeared to be the centre of the room was a large purple bulb that seemed to be hanging off the ceiling. It was pulsating slightly, almost as if something was moving around inside of it. Thick, green vines hung from it, tumbling down its sides in tangles.
"This is like no testing area I've ever seen…" Carlos gasped, seemingly as amazed as what she was.
"And how many testing areas have you seen"? Kevin questioned.
"Well…this one" Carlos answered sheepishly. Kevin grinned triumphantly. "It'd be horrible if you had hayfever…" He mused. "Do you suffer from it"? He asked Kevin hopefully.
"I wonder what they test in here," Jill said out loud. Her eyes didn't leave the large plant in the centre. It reminded her horribly of Plant 42 in the guardhouse of the Spencer Mansion. She'd been lucky enough to not have too much trouble with it but this plant was far bigger and looked far more deadly.
"It's not a crazy temperature in here so it's probably nothing tropical" Kevin offered. "I suppose since this place if off the coast of England then they wouldn't waste time creating tropical species to unleash upon the population"
"It's off the coast of Scotland actually," Carlos pointed out. "A lot of Americans can't make the distinction between England and the United Kingdom-" He stopped when he realised that Kevin was no longer in earshot. The former cop had walked off, past the archway and deeper into the garden heading, Carlos assumed, towards the giant plant in the centre. He opened his mouth to say something to Jill but she'd started to walk off too.
Seconds later, Carlos heard her shrieking in shock followed by shots being fired. It sounded like she'd reached the centre of the room. He hurried towards her cries, pushing through thickets of the giant flowers and dodging around the toadstools. He reached the centre of the room; which was in shadow due to the giant bulb above their heads. Jill was firing at the huge bulb. Carlos looked up and saw Kevin dangling in mid air, one of thick green tentacles wrapped around his neck.
"Dios Mio"! Carlos exclaimed, drawing his own gun. He aimed carefully at the thick tentacle, just above Kevin's head.
"Carlos"! Jill protested but it was too late. Carlos had fired his shot. It hit the tentacle in its dead centre, causing it to explode in a mass of green fluid. Kevin dropped to the floor like a sack of potatoes, hitting the soil with a grunt. Jill rushed towards him and helped him to his feet.
"Let's get out of here"! She cried.
"Don't need to tell me twice"! Kevin replied croakily, following Jill's lead. Carlos quickly holstered his gun and followed suit. The three of them ran through the garden, not stopping until they found a door, which read 'End of Testing Area One'. Nobody thought anything of it; it was just a relief to find a way out.
The door opened into another small porch, slightly larger than the first one but other than that, identical. Carlos slammed the door shut and leant against it, breathing heavily.
"That was a risky thing you did" Jill fired at him as soon as she'd caught her own breath. Kevin was now sat beside her, rubbing his neck, which seemed to have a thick red ring running around it. It looked like he was going to have a nasty bruise. "You could've shot him accidentally," She added, pointing at Kevin.
"You should know I'm a better marksman than that"! Carlos exclaimed. "I've been handling a gun since I was a kid! Christo"!
"It was still risky" Jill said, her hands on her hips. "Although I will concede that it got us away from that monstrous plant"
"And it's made you actually speak to me" Carlos added. "I think this is the most you've said to me for days" He sighed heavily. "Maybe it's worth taking the odd risk if I actually get to speak to you and get something back in return"
"It's not-" Jill struggled. Her anger had melted away and it appeared to have been replaced with shame. Her hands had fallen to her sides and were hanging limp. She seemed to be having trouble meeting Carlos eyes. Carlos hadn't really wanted to have this out in front of anybody, least of all Kevin Ryman, but it looked like he no longer had the choice. Carlos pushed himself off the door and took Jill in his arms. For the first time in weeks, she didn't push him away. She let him hold her. It felt so good to be holding her again. He raised his left hand and brushed it lightly against her cheek.
"What is it mi amor? Please…just tell me," He said gently.
"Not here" Jill replied quietly. She appeared to brush tears away before turning back to Kevin. "No offence…"
"None taken" Kevin said, his voice still raspy.
"There's a time and a place" Jill gave Carlos a quick kiss on the cheek. "I'm sorry for the way I've been acting and we will talk about it just not now"
"Not when we're liable to get attacked by crazy ass plants anyway," Kevin added for her, massaging his throat. "I'm fine by the way guys," He continued jokingly. Jill and Carlos broke apart and smiled at him somewhat sheepishly.
"So what was your wife's name"? Chris asked as he and Brad left the recreation room and turned into another corridor that wouldn't have looked out of place in the bowels of an ocean liner.
"I think I preferred you when you relentlessly mocked me" Brad answered, moving along the steel grill flooring cautiously. "Although I will admit it's pretty tiresome," He offered Chris a smile. "Don't worry. I know Chris Redfield doesn't do apologies"
"Damn right" Chris replied, trying his best to ignore the guilt. "And I would be delighted to return to relentlessly mocking you. In fact, I have a witty comment for just such an occasion"
"Go on then" Brad crept along the corridor, careful not to make too much noise. Judging by the evidence of looting that they'd found in the recreation room, it was highly likely that they weren't alone so they needed to proceed with caution. Not that Chris seemed to be adhering to that. The noise from his boots alone could waken the dead.
"Well we've been down here a while now and you haven't bailed on me" Chris said with a smirk. "Must be some kind of new record"
"Good one" Brad muttered sarcastically, although he wasn't really listening. Something further along the corridor had caught his eye. A door, set into the left hand side of the corridor. It didn't, however, resemble the rest of the doors along the corridor with their basic designs and simple steel handles. It looked instead like a bank vault. The door was round and had a handle that resembled a valve handle mounted in the middle.
"Is that a bank vault"? Chris asked, obviously having noticed the door.
"Looks like it" Brad answered. "Although it's really antiquated. They stopped using circular doors years ago because of how hard they were to maintain. The doors would sag eventually because of the immense weight-" Brad stopped speaking when he realised that Chris was giving him a strange look. "What"?
"And where did you learn that"? Chris asked. "Guards and Guarding? Security Guards Weekly? Bank Vault Aficionado"?
"They must've used it for storage of wages" Brad mused, completely ignoring Chris' stupid question. He moved closer to the door and studied it. He was just about to examine the lock to see if there was any way he could get it open when something hard and sharp hit him on the head. He wheeled around quickly and saw a young girl, who couldn't have been more than seventeen years old, standing in front of him, a fierce look on her face.
"Oh sorry"! She said. "I thought you were a zombie"!
There was a chuckle from behind him.
"Chris! Why didn't you say anything"? Brad rubbed the back of his head where he'd been hit.
"Sorry Bradley but she was brandishing a DVD case. It's not often you see someone get attacked with a DVD case…I wanted to see what happened" Chris explained with a simple shrug. "Plus, she's only a girl. I know you don't have the impressive muscle tone that I have which, by the way, would make old Arnie weep, but I figured even you wouldn't have trouble with a girl" He smirked as Brad continued to rub his head. "Guess I was wrong" He looked at the girl who was standing between them looking extremely nervous. "Well darling, you got the better of Bradley here so that makes you alright in my book. What's your name"?
"Ginny" The girl answered quietly. Her tone was soft and delicate with a hint of a British accent. She ran her free hand nervously through her thick ginger hair, which had been tied back into a functional ponytail. She was extremely pale, with a smattering of freckles across her nose and cheeks. Her green eyes were dull and had dark rings underneath them. She was dressed simply in a light blue jeans and a black 'Top Gun' t-shirt, both of which hung off her tiny frame. She looked like she hadn't eaten properly for weeks, or slept properly for that matter. She fiddled with the DVD case in her hands. She opened her mouth as if she was about to explain further but stopped suddenly, startled, like a rabbit caught in the headlights.
"Quick"! She squeaked. "Get in the vault! It's coming"! She pushed past Brad and turned the lock with ease before wrenching the thick, heavy door open. She started to herd Brad in after her. Brad looked at Chris helplessly.
"Do what the nice girl says Bradley" Chris ordered sarcastically. He rolled his eyes and pushed Brad through the vault door. He followed him and heaved the door shut behind them. Ginny pressed herself against the opposite wall, her tired eyes suddenly wide with fear.
"So what are we hiding from"? Brad asked.
"The Beast".
The first thing that Leon noticed when he opened his eyes was that he was no longer in the foul smelling, water-logged corridor. The second thing he noticed was that he was no longer in his foul smelling, soaking wet clothes. The third thing, and this was probably the most crucial, was that he couldn't move from the chair he was sitting in.
He took in his state first. He appeared to be sitting on a wooden chair that wouldn't have looked out of place in an office. His ankles were bound to the front two legs with a length of thick rope. More rope encircled his waist, securing him to the chair's back and finally, his arms had been placed behind the chair's back and tied together at the wrists. His tactical clothes had been removed and had been replaced with what looked like light green scrubs. He could feel a thick piece of gauze covering the palm of his injured hand and could see the outline of a bandage going around his thigh. His face no longer felt tight with the caked on bodily fluids like it had recently been washed.
He twisted uncomfortably in his bound state to check out his surroundings. It was a small room, probably no bigger than the average single office. The floor consisted of scratched metal sheeting, dull with age. The walls were a darker grey but with none of the pipes and valve handles from the corridor. It seemed like he was on a different floor of the facility entirely. One that was, perhaps, most likely frequented by low-level staff. It needed to be more welcoming than the lower levels but with none of the pomp and show of the higher levels. It was obvious no potential investor would ever roam this deep into the facility.
Directly in front of him was the door. The same dull grey as the walls but with a porthole near the top. To the left hand side of the door were metal shelves full of different coloured vials of liquid, some in test tubes, some in conical flasks, others in corked beakers. To the right of the door was a small desk. An ancient computer sat atop it but was covered in a fine layer of filmy dust, giving the impression that it hadn't seen use for a while. There was also a thick accounts book next to it that had been left open. He couldn't see what anything said, but the writing looked like hasty scrawled chicken scratch, dephicerable only to its owner. Beside the accounts book laid a stethoscope and empty syringe, which added to the whole crazed doctor's office vibe that he, was feeling.
He jumped as he felt a cool, clammy hand suddenly rest on the back of his neck. Another hand came to rest on his left shoulder. Leon struggled to try and get a look at the stranger but the hand on his neck forced him to remain looking forwards.
"I knew you weren't dead" A voice spoke, male, high and reedy with a hint of a British accent. It was a slightly unnerving tone that made Leon shudder slightly.
"Who the fuck are you"? He demanded, once again trying to twist around to get a good look at the person who had taken him captive. The hand on the back of his neck tightened, the one on his shoulder suddenly digging in.
"You have scars" The voice continued, almost as if he hadn't heard Leon's fierce demand. The hand on his shoulder moved forward and down, touching the spot where he'd been shot so many years ago in Raccoon. Leon felt his pulse quicken. Whoever he was dealing with obviously wasn't altogether sane. "I saw them when I washed you. How did you obtain these imperfections"?
"None of your business" Leon snapped. He struggled to control his breathing. He forced his mind to remember his resistance to interrogation and hostage training. He heard his captor laugh quietly. The hand slid away from his shoulder and came to rest on the top of his head, lightly fondling his hair.
"They don't know we're here" Leon felt the man's breath tickle his ear as he moved closer to him.
"What the hell do you want"?
"Glory"! His captor exclaimed, his hand tightening in his hair so that it tugged painfully. Leon squirmed in his bindings. "Working hard. So hard. Imagining things that most others could never imagine. Watching silently as others gained prestige for achievements that were unworthy of my time…"
"Who are you"? Leon fought to control his voice. He didn't want his captor knowing how scared he was. He knew how to deal with enemies, antagonists who might want to kidnap him for knowledge or ransom. It seemed like this guy wasn't after knowledge or monetary gain. If his thoughts and motivations were as jumbled as his words, it was highly likely that there was no logical reason behind the kidnap. His training had been comprehensive but he felt unprepared to deal with the demands of someone to whom standard reasoning didn't apply.
"I am many things" The man informed him. "I could be so many more. But I am not allowed" He released Leon entirely. "Did you know, for instance, than during my confinement I have studied many things and garnered a much wider interest in the human body than even I ever thought possible"?
"Stop playing games"! Leon felt his anger rising above his fear. He struggled with the ropes but they were tied so tightly that it was futile. "Tell me what it is that you want from me"!
"You see, the thing that they didn't realise is that in order for my experiments to work" Leon heard the man pacing behind him, soft shoes tapping on the metal floor. "I need to play around a little. I lust for perfection" He explained. "For things to be just so".
"Are you saying this is just some game to you"? Leon snarled. He continued to struggle, trying to loosen the ropes just enough so that he could start to make some kind of escape.
"You have scars" The man repeated. "Imperfections" His fingers danced across the back of Leon's neck, making him shudder again involuntarily. "Someone shot you did they not? Your stomach, your shoulder, your thigh. Your stomach, that's perfectly acceptable. Centralized scarring. Your left shoulder scarred. I was worried. But then I saw it. I saw your right shoulder. It's not a bullet wound. It looks like a bite but it's acceptable too. Two scars. One on each shoulder. Your thigh. Only one of them is scarred. I lust for perfection"
A sudden shot and pain flared up in Leon's thigh. He tensed in the chair, letting out a scream.
"Hmm…symmetry"
Leon felt the man's hand cover the wound as he blacked out.