Resident Evil: Supernatural Remake
A Resident Evil Fanfiction
By Snafu the Great
SNAFU'S NOTES AND DISCLAIMER: Resident Evil belongs to Capcom. So it's been a while since I written any fanfiction or my novel. I owe you guys an explanation. I was burned out with real life stuff (stress, deaths in the family, the usual stuff). Now, I'm trying to get back into the groove of things. With the release of the remakes of Resident Evils 2, 3, and 4, I decided to redo this fanfic alongside rewriting A Change In Pace.
So the premise is still the same: what if various characters from Street Fighter/Final Fight, Resident Evil, King of Fighters (and maybe some other IP's) were supernatural creatures similar to that of Underworld, Castlevania, Darkstalkers and Rosario+Vampire? More importantly, how would that change the fates of numerous characters, let alone the direction of the series?
Finally, I'm modeling Jill's parents (Augustin de Valentin and Chiyome Mochizuki) after Christopher Lambert (ala Conner Macleod) and Michiko Nishiwaki (ala My Lucky Stars) respectively. For Chris and Claire's parents (Raewald and Berit Redclaw), I am modeling them after Sean Bean and Lena Headley (as a redhead) respectively.
That being said, let's do this.
ONE: Lost In Nightmares, Part One
Eight years had passed since the outbreak which destroyed Raccoon City.
Following the dissolution of Umbrella five years after the event, its last surviving founder, the disgraced British aristocrat and virologist, Ozwell E. Spencer, went into hiding.
Until now.
Someone dropped the dime on Ozwell Spencer. An unknown informant had spilled their guts to the Bioterrorism Security Assesstment Alliance, in exchange for immunity.
At least, that was the official story.
In truth, the intel regarding Spencer's location had been discovered by the Triumvirate – a trio of enigmatic information brokers who oversaw an immense spy network in the Far East, with several interests in America and Europe – and was passed to the B.S.A.A., primarily to two of the original eleven founders of the organization, as one of the members in question had called in a debt owed to him by one of the members of the Triumvirate.
The order were swift: Ozwell Spencer was to be brought in, despite his terminal condition, before he could disappear. The B.S.A.A. had put two of their best special operations agents on the job. Both had experience in dealing with Umbrella's bioweapons, with one of the pair being a survivor of the Raccoon Outbreak.
For the pair, the mission was more than just a mission. It was personal.
However, they were not the only ones with a vested interest in the disgraced virologist. A ghost from their shared past also has past issues with not only Spencer, but the two agents in question.
Soon, it would all come to a head.
And the ghost in question was overdue for a rude awakening, one that would be for him, extremely lethal.
Ozwell Spencer's Hideout, 2006.
"JILL!"
Chris Redfield's scream echoed in the stormy night as he watched both his partner and Wesker fall, vanishing into the fog below. She was still holding onto Wesker as they both fell to the rocky shores.
However, fear wasn't the emotion Chris was feeling. No, the emotion he was feeling was pure fury. But not at Wesker, although there was plenty to go around.
No, the fury was mostly directed at his partner, and her impulsiveness. Sometimes, he found it endearing, as it made their relationship interesting. Other times, it got either person - or the both of them - into trouble.
Like now.
'Damn that woman!' Chris thought as he punched the wall, leaving a fist-sized dent in the plaster. 'Always going off half-cocked! You think she'd learn better self-control!'
Chris steeled himself and closed his eyes. Mentally counting down from ten, he calmed himself down. But he was still angry. 'At least Spencer is dead,' he thought as he looked down at the wizened body of Ozwell Spencer, complete with a fist-sized hole in his chest. The same fate that Wesker had in store for him before Jill tackled him through the window.
That is, if Chris was entirely human.
Had Chris Redfield been born human, then it would be for certain that Wesker's final attack would have killed him. But given that he was able to shrug off fourth degree burns, being blown apart by a landmine and wounds made from blessed silver (despite it hurting like a bitch), getting an arm shoved through the chest cavity would be to Chris, something of a minor annoyance at best.
Even back in Raccoon City, Wesker had put off most people with his Machiavellian attitude. But his redeeming quality - before the Spencer Mansion Incident - was that he could lead.
For all of his bluster and his claims about the right to become a God, Wesker did not consider the fact that he and Jill were not entirely human. Then again, neither did Brian Irons. He only found out about Claire just moments before she tore him apart, leaving his bloody remains for the Pale Heads that broke into the orphanage.
Well, in Claire's defense, Irons did shoot her in the chest. While the bullet wasn't silver, it still hurt like hell.
Chris looked upwards. The storm had passed, and the clouds were starting to part. Chris knew what was hiding behind those clouds.
A full moon.
Chris felt his blood begin to boil. The ancient, powerful Lycan blood of his clan, Clan Redclaw.
The youngest son of Lord Raewald and Lady Berit Redclaw, Christopher Redclaw was born in 1472. Claire would come along six years later, usurping his position as the youngest. While Chris was the runt of the bunch. Claire, on the other hand, was feral, but only calmed down whenever he was around.
Over 500 years old, and Chris could pass for thirty, while Claire could still pass for nineteen. Jill liked his rugged look, as she liked a little spit and dirt in her beloved wolf... aside from his blood.
Both the British royal family and the government were privy to the supernatural that made their home on the Isles. Rather than follow a path of extermination like the Catholic Inquisition, the royal family reached out to the leaders of both the covens and the clans, seeing the benefits in maintaining a close relationship with the supernatural residing in their lands.
Accords were struck, and treaties were signed. In short, the clans and covens aided in not only the home defense of the British homeland and the royal family from the shadows (mostly by killing any violent criminals they came across), the clans and covens were granted a general level of autonomy, provided they keep a low profile, as to not scare the mortals.
After all, humans were not the only invaders that besieged the British Isles, as some were more than man.
There were two known classes of Lycanthropes: the pure-blooded Lycans who could change forms at will, and their lesser brethren, the common Werewolf, who can only change under the gaze of a full moon, and were more feral than their brethren.
As his parents were the founders of Clan Redclaw, it was more than obvious that Chris was born into the main branch of the clan, despite being the runt. That meant that he possessed the ability to transform without the aid of the full moon. He – along with Claire – had two forms; a hybrid, Lycan-man form, Chris being taller than a Tyrant, well over eight feet tall, while Claire's hybrid form was six-feet-three, and their final form, which was a giant wolf. Chris's wolf form was about the size of a horse, while Claire's was smaller, but just as big. Their father, on the other hand, his wolf form was the size of a male bull, while their mother's wolf form was the size of a warhorse.
Chris had been unable to transform freely at first, given that his being a runt. But it was something that he eventually learned, with the help of his old mentor.
The last he heard of Colonel Guile was that he was still in the Air Force - his third stint, imagine that - and was still married to that cute witch wife of his. Chris had often wondered how a marriage between a Lycan and a witch worked. Then again, his companion was originally a dhampyr until that fateful night back in Raccoon City.
'Maybe I should touch base with the old wolf when this is all over,' Chris thought.
Claire was right in calling him a war junkie. That was technically true, as Chris saw action in the Revolutionary War, the Civil War (fighting on the Northern side), both World Wars, Korea, Vietnam and Operations Desert Shield and Desert Storm. But Chris's former mentor had him beat.
His relationship with Jill Valentine was a volatile one, one which stemmed back not from their time together in the Raccoon Police Department, but centuries past. Whoever said that 'opposites attract' had not met him nor his partner. It was a miracle in itself that they had not tried to kill each other...not to say that they both tried...and failed.
Chris said she was a sadist. Jill called it foreplay.
Even his normally demure sister had picked up on some of Jill's sadistic tendencies when it came to dealing with the assassins Umbrella had sent after them. Jill wasn't as big a sadist as that Spanish vampire who ran the de la Cerna Coven (good riddance to that asshole), or the psychotic kumiho from Korea. But Jill was a sadist nonetheless.
The Dimitrescu sisters were fans of her work, with Cassandra Dimitrescu on record saying that Jill was 'an artist,' and that she was an admirer of her work. The only person that came close was her Chinese-born rival.
During his long life, Chris had seen both the best and worst that humanity and monsters alike had to offer. None more so than the man who fancied himself as a god, one Albert Wesker.
Chris could have ripped Wesker to shreds back on Rockfort Island, for hurting his sister. But there was the chance that Wesker could've escaped with the knowledge that he was a Lycan, which would put him and his family at risk. So, he took his lumps, and lured Wesker into a false sense of security, the superhuman proclaiming his superiority over his subordinate.
'Wesker, a GOD? That's laughable,' Chris thought.
This time, there would be no escape for Wesker. He would rip him apart, tear open his chest, and consume his beating heart. 'This, I swear by the Mother Wolf,' Chris thought.
Chris had missed Wesker in Russia, when Wesker had sicced his Hunters on both him and Jill. But he made it personal when he attacked Claire. This time, there would be no reprieve, no mercy. Wesker was a dead man walking.
Chris closed his eyes as he began to transform into his hybrid form. His body began to swell and expand. His face transformed into a wolf's muzzle, complete with a black nose, his eyes shimmering from chestnut brown to amber. His ears moved higher until they reached the upper sides of his head and became more triangular in shape. Dense, dark brown fur sprouted from his body as he grew, the shirt ripping under the strain of the bulging muscles and the change in height, while the vest itself, surprising held despite the change in muscle mass. His boots and the lower half of his pants also became shredded. His fingernails grew until they became sharp, wicked points, sharper than the Hunter's claws. A single swipe from his hand can disembowel a Tyrant with no effort.
Lycan-Chris looked up at the moon and let loose a howl. Then, in a burst of speed, the newly-transformed Lycan charged out of the library. He had a score to settle with Wesker.
'Make sure Jill's okay. Kill Wesker,' Lycan-Chris thought as he bolted down the corridors. 'And when this is all over, then yell at Jill.'
Down below…
'Ow. So much… ow.'
That was the thought that was going through Jill Valentine's head as her battered and broken body laid atop of the equally-mangled form of Albert Wesker. She was no stranger to pain, but tackling your former boss through a window and using his body in an attempt to cushion the landing on the rocky surf a couple of hundred feet below hurt like fucking hell.
'Ribs are definitely broken,' Jill thought. Crying out in pain from pulling her body off of Wesker, she ended up in the surf. 'Kneecap's also busted. Shit. Chris warned me about Wesker's new tricks. Being shot is more preferable than this. Ow.'
She wasn't going anywhere at the moment. Better let her body heal. 'Would heal faster if I had some blood,' Jill added. 'Damn. The one time I need Chris and he isn't here."
And if she knew her lover as well as she did, Chris wouldn't be amused by the time he caught up with both her and Wesker. Chris had been rubbing off on her.
Like now.
Unless Wesker's hand was plated with pure silver, then Chris wouldn't have died from being impaled. He would be pissed, but still alive. But, Jill had to play the hero in an act of impulsiveness.
'Don't be a hero,' her father had told her. 'You try and play hero, you make mistakes. Mistakes that will cost you your life.'
Even more ironic was that this wasn't the first time she tackled someone and went tumbling over a cliff because of it. Chris himself had been on the receiving end of a Jill Valentine Cliff Tackle centuries ago.
Absently, Jill wondered which tongue-lashing would be more worse - her beloved Lycan or her father. She had been chewed out - verbally - by both men, but in the end, her father was worse. Her father was a temperamental man, driven by facts, logic, and instinct.
Well, not a man. Augustin de Valentin was anything but a man. He was the Vampire Lord of the de Valentin coven, one of the four vampire covens that dominated France. The seat of power for the de Valentin was located in Rouen, in the Normandy region, where he ruled his coven with a velvet glove that at times, could turn into an iron fist.
As with the various Lycanthropes, there were several different species of Vampires. The Lesser Vampires – those who were once human, later sired by either another Lesser Vampire or a Pureblood – made up the majority of the Vampire population. The Lesser Vampires were identified by their pale skin, pointed ears, claw-like fingernails, and enunciated canines (think the Vampires seen in Netflix's Castlevania). Jill's mother – the legendary Japanese noblewoman/poet/spymaster Chiyome Mochizuki – was one such Lesser Vampire, having been sired by her father before taking her on as his third wife. Jill had been seventeen when that happened.
The insane, self-proclaimed 'Spanish Ninja,' Vega Fabio de la Cerna, was another. A man obsessed with beauty, he had been a Jesuit Inquisitor before he was attacked and turned into a vampire by a vampiric converso. His coven had been scattered to the winds, the man himself finally put down via him becoming short by the height of his pretty blond head.
Next up on the totem pole, were the vampire nobility, the Purebloods. While more human-like in their appearance (no pointed ears, skin not as pale, canines not as long), the Purebloods were those conceived of vampire parents. The most distinguishing characteristic of a Pureblood were the double set of fangs; the outer incisor, sharpened at an angle, pointing inward, and of course, the elongated canines (think Selene's fangs from Underworld).
Mai Shiranui was one such Pureblood. The buxom vampiress was a former disciple of her mother, Mai having served under Jill's mother centuries past, and still maintained a close friendship and business relationship with her mother. Mai was also in an open relationship, a co-wife alongside her rival, their husband being a Japanese-born immortal, the son of Susanoo no Mikoto, the Japanese kami of storms.
According to her mother, the majority of the ninja clans in Japan were vampires, the most prominent being the Hayabusa, the Bushinryuu and the Mugen Tenshin. While most of them prefer the night, some of them were able to walk in the sunlight, due to them being under the patronage of the Japanese gods. Mai was one such vampire, being under the patronage of the Sun Goddess herself.
And even if she didn't have the Amaterasu's patronage, her diet of her husband's Immortal blood provided some resistance to sunlight.
There were also sub-branches of Vampires. The enigmatic Mother Miranda was a Muroni – Eastern European vampires who can morph into various animals. Miranda had a fondness of ravens, hence her preference of using raven's wings. She ruled a small region of Eastern Europe with her four underlings – a succubus, a vampire, a merman and a werewolf. Jill knew of Miranda, as she was friends with her parents.
Speaking of the succubi, Rebecca Chambers was one such of those who claimed ancestry from Lilith, the first Succubus. Rebecca was a Lesser Succubus, meaning that while she lacked the leather-like bat wings, she could still drain men of their life force. Soul-sucking antics aside, Rebecca was one that Jill called a friend. It also helped that like Jill and Chris, she was also a former member of S.T.A.R.S., the sole surviving member of Bravo Team.
The dhampyrs were the largest of the vampiric sub-branches. Born from a Vampire and a human – usually a male Vampire and a human woman – the dhampyrs had all the strengths of a vampire, and with the exception of silver, none of the weakness. Some of them even retained the ability to transform, just like their undead counterparts. Jill had spent most of her life as a dhampyr, until her mother sired her in order to save her life.
And finally, there was the Living Vampires.
They were a rarity, with their numbers being less than a hundred, but were considered to be the most powerful. Unlike the Lesser Vampires and the Purebloods, they could walk out in the day, were immune to holly relics, and enjoyed near-complete immunity from silver-based weaponry. Augustin de Valentin was such a vampire. Her rival – the head of the Imperial House of Xiang – was another. Chun-Li Xiang was the co-wife of Mai Shiranui, and known among the Chinese vampires (not including the Jiangshi) as the 'Dark Empress of the Ch'in,' due to her tracing her lineage back to the First Emperor of a unified China, Qin Shi Huang.
The title was given to her by her fellow vampires. At least Chun-Li thought it to be a bit too much, even for her. Yet, she had no problem with her other nickname: the Shadow Lady.
The last she heard of Chun-Li, she was busy playing jiejie (big sister) to a Chinese-Malay dhampyr girl she had adopted some years back, Chun-Li having found her on the streets of Kuala Lumpur around the same time Raccoon City was wiped from the map.
Jill was the youngest of the Living Vampires. To the Lesser Vampires, she was like a rock star; a dhampyr sired to become a Living Vampire. It had been a five-thousand-to-one odds of Jill becoming a Vampire, as most dhampyrs who shed their humanity became the normal undead variety of Vampire. Suffice to say, Jill had the devil's luck when her mother sired her.
To be a Living Vampire was to be among the elite. Which made it even more funny for Jill, as she was Augustin's bastard child. It had been a risk to sire Jill, as the chance of becoming a Living Vampire was rare. Either way, she would be cured of the T-virus vaccine that ironically, was killing her. But, there was the chance that Jill could end up like either parent – be it as a Living Vampire like her father, or the more traditional undead like her mother.
But Jill ended up winning the Vampire equivalent of the lottery when she was sired on that fateful day eight years ago.
Raccoon City. Seems like a lifetime ago, despite it being eight years since the outbreak. A lifetime among lifetimes for someone like her.
As Jill's mind drifted back to that fateful day eight years ago, she realized just how lucky she was. Even among the vampire hierarchy, what had happened to her was nothing shore of a pure fluke. The chance of a dhampyr becoming a Living Vampire was a thousand to one.
'Guess that makes me the one,' Jill thought.
[Flashback]
Spencer Memorial Hospital - Raccoon City, Colorado.
October 1, 1998.
Something was wrong.
Jill shouldn't feel this weak. Not even when she was recovering from being hit with several silver bullets, did she felt this bad.
Something was very, wrong indeed.
The vaccine was supposed to cure her of the T-Virus. So why was her body felt like she was being pinned down by several large boulders? It wasn't a question that no one from Umbrella was willing to answer, on the grounds that she and Chris were high up on their shit list.
She remembered fighting the Nemesis' monstrous form at the clock tower. The rematch, after Jill had soundly thrashed it following her leading it on a merry little chase through a building that was under construction. The battle ended with Jill using her enhanced strength and agility to combat the Nemesis' flamethrower and wild tentacle swings.
But it was the rematch against the Nemesis' mutated form, that she had gotten careless. The partying shot courtesy of the Nemesis had left her infected with the T-virus. This, she realized before falling unconscious.
She wasn't at the clock tower.. The smell of cordite and blood was strong, mingling with the smell of death that permeated the air. Whatever had happened here, Jill had either slept through it or missed it entirely. The room was a mess, as if the hospital had been the subject of a siege.
Jill had no idea just how right she was.
Then, she saw Carlos.
The brash, shaggy-haired mercenary from South America was slumped in a chair. He wasn't moving. His torso was wrapped with bandages, as if he had been dealt a terrible wound. Jill took notice of the blood that had seeped through the bandages. His carbine rifle laid at his feet. The fact that he didn't have a heartbeat and his skin had a pale tone to it told Jill all she needed to know.
Carlos Oliveira was another victim of Umbrella's greed.
"He made the ultimate sacrifice to save your life."
It was a voice that Jill knew all too well. Female, with a light Japanese lilt, as she was speaking English, rather than her native Japanese or the French of her adopted homeland. Jill didn't even sense her inside the room. Turning to the direction of the voice, Jill saw her. The shadows hiding her identity, eyes glowing a soft red.
CLICK.
A desk lamp snapped on. Even now, her mother was ever the perfectionist, dressed to the nines in a women's business suit, rather than the kimono she would usually wear. The suits jacket was slung over the chair, showing off the white blouse. Dark brown hair was tied back into a bun. She sat in a chair, one leg draped over the other, hands now clasped together. Her Masasmune – a wedding gift from her father – was sheathed and resting up against the chair.
Chiyome Mochizuki. The first Kunoichi. Third wife of Augustin de Valentin, and Spymaster of the Valentin Coven.
"Momma...?" Jill whispered.
Chiyome was at her daughter's side in an instant. "Hai. It's me, dear one." She looked over to Carlos' body. "He was mortally wounded by one of the abominations that stalked the upper floors of the hospital. We found him, brought him back here. By that time, there was nothing we can do. The last thing he did was to give you the vaccine. Selfless to the end."
If Jill had any tears to shed, she would be crying. "Momma, Uncle Mikhail. He..."
"Shh. Say no more. I know."
Mikhail Victor. The old Russian mercenary had been a loyal familiar of the de Valentin family for decades. Jill had affectionately called him 'the Old Bear.'
"When it comes to our family, I know everything," Chiyome said. "Especially in regards to you. As to the reason why I'm here, your father and I have... no, had key assets within the city that needed to he extracted."
"Where... where are we?"
"Spencer Memorial Hospital. According to Lupo, there is a second NEST facility underneath us."
Augustin de Valentin had married three times, and had many children, nineteen in total. Lupo was known to the public as Karena LesProux, but in actuality, was Karena de Valentin, the eldest daughter of Augustin de Valentin and his second wife - an Iberian noblewoman and Pureblood - thus making her Jill's half-sister. She was also the one who gave Jill the heads-up whenever Umbrella tried to send a snatch squad after her following her suspension from the R.P.D.
Jill tried to sit up, only for her body to give out, and she fell back to the cot.
"You're too weak," Chiyome said. "The vaccine saved you from a fate worse than death. Your both your heartbeat and pulse are getting weaker by the second."
"The vaccine... it's killing me?" Jill whispered.
"Attention all citizens. This is the Raccoon City Emergency Alert System."
The TV was on. Jill and Chiyome were greeted with the screen showing the SMOTE color bars, complete with the text EMERGENCY ALERT SYSTEM in a black box.
Above the box was the date. OCT 1, 1998.
"The missile strike on Raccoon City will occur at dawn. The payload is designed to eradicate all biological material. You will not survive in you remain in the city. If you have the means to do so, evacuate the city. This message will repeat."
"It's the first?" Jill whispered. "No way. It can't be. It's the 28th."
"Just a few minutes past three," Chiyome confirmed. "You were unconscious for two days."
Jill tried to get up once again, but failed. Her body was failing her. She was dying. The vaccine was indeed killing her. "No. Need to kill Nicholai. He betrayed Uncle Mikhail. Left the survivors to die..."
Even in the face of certain death, Chiyome saw the fierce determination in Jill's eyes. She was still defiant, even to the bitter end. Chiyome couldn't help vut to respect that.
"Stubborn. Just like me." Chiyome smiled sadly as she stroked Jill's head. "You are indeed my daughter."
Then, the elder Japanese vampiress began to undo one of her blouse's cuff-links, snapping off the item and pulling the sleeve back, exposing her wrist.
Jill's eyes widened, as she knew what her mother had planned. "Momma..."
"There is no other way. You're a liability in your present condition," Chiyome interrupted her. She then hesitated. "I won't force you to do this. But it's the only chance you have of surviving. Once the decision is made, there is no going back. This is the point of no return for you."
"Heh. My own personal Rubicon," Jill croaked.
"It was the same with me when your father sired me," Chiyome said.
Before Jill could reply, two more women joined them. The door opened and from the lobby, in walked two more women. A Frenchwoman and a short-haired Japanese female.
Lupo wore a tight-fitting black-and-grey combat suit. The signature gas mask with the blue-tinted visor that partially concealed her face was strapped to her side. In her hands, was her combat rifle. As to how Lupo was able to walk in the daytime despite being a Pureblood? Anything that her combat suit didn't cover up, Lupo used sunblock to cover her bare skin.
The Japanese woman was clad in the outfit similar to the Frenchwoman's own, with several differences. Her own facemask was secured to her face. Like her French counterpart, she carried a battle rifle in her hands.
As for the Japanese female, she was also a former protégé of Chiyome. Born in pre-War Japan, Chiyuki Yamata lost her parents and brother when the Allied Forces firebombed Tokyo. Chiyome had been in Japan at the time and saw the potential in Chiyuki, and brought her back to France. Reborn as Christine Yamata, Four-Eyes, as she was known, was a prodigy in the sciences, something that Mother Miranda noticed. It was also something that Umbrella also noticed, as they headhunted her into joining their organization.
As with Lupo, Four-Eyes got around not turning to ash when out in the sun was a healthy coating of sunblock.
"Apologies for our tardiness, Madame Chiyome," Lupo said. "We had to double back on the way here..." She stopped upon seeing Chiyome seated next to her bedridden half-sister.
"You're going to sire her?" Four-Eyes asked. "What does Lord Augustin say about this?"
Chiyome's reply surprised both Lupo and Four-Eyes. "He gave me his blessings. Her father wished it. he is very proud of her, as am I."
"Dad...is proud of me?"
Chiyome looked down at the shocked face of her daughter, and smiled. "Did you really think he wouldn't have me keep tabs on not just you, but also your pet wolf? Oh, my sweet, little girl. How little you know. Your father is proud of you. As am I. The choice is yours, Jillianne. Some people see this as an ending, but in some cases, an ending is merely a new beginning, albeit in disguise. Either you do nothing, and die. Or drink my blood, and live. The choice is yours."
Jill didn't need any time to think about it. "I accept the risks," she replied softly. "Even if it means sacrificing my humanity."
Chiyome smiled sadly. With a kiss to Jill's forehead, Chiyome raised her wrist to her lips and bit down, opening the veins. "Then drink, my daughter. Drink and live."
Jill was no stranger to consuming blood. It came with the territory. Of course, Chris spoiled her with his Lycan blood - "very strong, very dry," according to Jill - but she had no problem with drinking the blood of humans. She did not consume the blood of innocents, but criminals – such as murderers and rapists – and the occasional hunter were fair game.
Plus, it also saved her hours on paperwork.
The crooked R.P.D. officers and the Umbrella snatch squad also fell into the criminal category, following her suspension and subsequent house arrest. Hiding the bodies after she fed on them was a total pain in the ass.
Blue eyes showing determination, Jill grabbed the arm and drank deep. Those same blue eyes bore into Chiyome's red-tinted brown ones. After several moments, Chiyome wrenched her hand free, stood up and backed away several steps.
Jill's body began to convulse. Then, she began to scream. For Chiyome, this was the hardest part. This, she knew all to well, as she herself went through this when she consumed Augustin's blood centuries ago.
She was watching her daughter die.
"It's just the body that dies," Chiyome said, despite Jill being unable to hear her due to the screams. "The pain is temporary, but the life that comes is eternal."
For Jill, however, she was no stranger to pain. She had been shot in the past. But lead or silver bullets paled in comparison to the pain she was experiencing. Her screams continued, fangs bared as her body flopped along the ground, as if she was having a seizure. Jill's heart was beating like crazy. Both Chiyome and Karena could hear it with their enhanced hearing. Then, finally, as Jill's body relaxed, it sputtered, and finally, gave out.
Jill Valentine was dead.
Jill's body was already starting to pale. Resurrection would soon follow. How would Jill come back would be left for chance.
Thump.
Chiyome froze. Lupo and Four-Eyes did the same.
Thump.
"Madame Chiyome... was that...?"
Thump. Thump.
There it was again. It was faint, but it was there. The sound was becoming even more stronger. Chiyome's eyes widened, as did Lupo and Four-Eyes, as they recognized the sound for what it was.
A heartbeat.
Thump-Thump. Thump-Thump.
Jill's left ring finger twitched. Then her entire hand. Her chest rose and fell. Slowly at first, but it was like the heartbeat; getting ever more steady. Her hand balled into a fist, the nails now sharpened into points, then relaxed.
Whenever a Vampire is sired, the most distinguishing characteristic was the heartbeat. Contrary to popular opinion, a vampire's heart does not stop beating entirely. The heart of a vampire beat to a different, more relaxed pace, due to the body being undead. A Living Vampire's heartbeat was the same as a human's, if not stronger.
This, Chiyome knew, as Jill's heart was now beating the same as her father's.
THUMP-THUMP. THUMP-THUMP. THUMP-THUMP.
*GASP!*
For the second time in the space of twenty minutes, Jill's eyes snapped open as she abruptly sat up, before keeling over and coughing, swallowing gulp after gulp of air.
The last thing she remembered before the darkness consumed her was pain. The pain of her humanity being burned away.
For a brief moment, following a Vampire's resurrection, their instincts were no better than that of a zombie, driven by the need to feed. Jill was no different.
Eyes darting around, fangs bared, Jill looked at Lupo and Four-Eyes, and hissed, the red bleeding into the blue irises.
Then, Chiyome stepped in Jill's full view. Delicate, yet powerful hands cupped Jill's face, Chiyome not breaking eye contact. "Focus on me, Jill. It's okay. You're okay. Focus on me."
And Jill did. Lupo and Four-Eyes stood ready, just in case Jill decided to attack her mother. Thankfully, it didn't come to that. Jill began to calm down.
"That's it. Good girl. Focus on me." Chiyome slowly brought Jill to her feet. "Take your time. The trip back...it's unnerving."
"Did... did it work? What happened?" Jill groaned.
"Simply put, you died," Chiyome said. "And you were brought back. Your father is going to have a field day with this."
Before Jill could inquire further, Lupo cut in. "You're a Living Vampire. The first Living Vampire to have ever been sired in the history of the Vampire Nation. I should be jealous, but I'm not."
"Statistically speaking, such an event happening is 5,000-to-1," Four-Eyes said, grinning from behind her mask. "You just made history. How do you feel?"
Jill took a moment. She felt the same, yet different. Her senses were even more sharper, her nose wrinkling slightly to the stench of shit and decay.
"I feel... amazing. Free, even." Jill flexed her hands, balling them into fists. "I want to... to taste life, drink deep from it."
"That's normal," Chiyome said. "The thirst is intense the first time after resurrection. Which is why as per the tradition of the Valentin Coven, you must make your first kill."
Jill nodded. It was something her father had implemented centuries earlier, when he first founded the Coven. Other covens soon followed suit. Not even Chiyome herself was exempt from this rule.
"That will be easier than expected, Madame Chiyome."
Chiyome turned from Jill and directed her attention to Lupo and Four-Eyes. "Oh?"
"It seems that our former comrades are now pity to the fact that we had betrayed them," Four-Eyes said. "Somehow, they managed to survive the firefight with Echo Six, and are on their way here."
"Four little lambs, led to slaughter." Jill grinned, showing off her fangs. "This is gonna be fun."
"Then consider this your first order," Chiyome said, her voice now firm. "Jillianne de Valentin, you are to exterminate the Wolfpack."
[End Flashback]
Her body was healing. Jill grunted as she felt her kneecap snapped back into place. Almost absently, Jill wondered how Wesker was doing. The self-proclaimed God was in worse shape than she was, but her healing factor was working overtime.
The Wolfpack had been Jill's first kills as a Living Vampire. In regards to The Wolfpack, it was nothing personal. Jill was hungry, and the Wolfpack served as her first meal as a Living Vampire.
Nicholai Zinoviev was a different story. Jill drained him to the point of death, and left him to die when she evacuated Raccoon City. Whether or not Nicholai died from blood loss or from the bomb that destroyed the mountain town was left in the air. Either way, Uncle Mikhail was avenged.
She could eat food like any other human, but blood was her main sustenance. That and steak cooked rare.
Chris knew about Jill's new status as a Living Vampire. After all, Jill did tell him. There was no secrets between the both of them... for the most part.
Secrets.
She didn't know that the Triumvirate owed Chris a favor. While a bit miffed that Chris hid that secret from her, it wasn't the worst thing he had done. In all honesty, given her past history of impulsiveness and recklessness, she was a lot worse.
Like now.
She didn't know what Chris had done to quarry favor with the Triumvirate. She suspected that Guile had something to do with it, given that he was Chris' former mentor.
It was something that was all but confirmed some hours earlier.