Author's Note: As promised, here is the second chapter for this month's upload. Thought about uploading the day before Thanksgiving for us in the US, but changed my mind as the notifications for the site are still down, at least on my end anyway. That way, for those who live in the US and manually double-check for any signs of uploads from me, you'll have enough time to do so before Thanksgiving comes. :)

Recommended BGM:

1. Resident Evil: The Umbrella Chronicles - Raccoon's Destruction

2. Resident Evil 3: Nemesis (1999) - The First Floor

3. Resident Evil 3: Nemesis (1999) & (Remake) - The City of Ruin

Bonus Track: Resident Evil 3: Nemesis (1999) & Resident Evil: The Umbrella Chronicles - (SPOILER) Watch for BOLD TEXT below

Chapter 6

Carlos had the vague idea that he was close. Annoyingly, the shopping district was designed to be a convoluted place that created itself into a maze of alleyways and street signs that made little to no sense. Even after he had entered the district, he saw virtually no clues as to where Cryan and Malone had gone off to, and there seemed to be no survivors other than the occasional zombie that stood next to every two boarded-up shops.

Okay, shopping district… I've been here for over an hour already. Where the hell is that damn theater? And didn't he say something about a fountain, too?

Carlos stood before a ruined barbershop at the intersection of two alleys, no longer sure which way to go. From this point, there were no street signs, not that it would've made any difference anyway. The sky was already completely dark at its peak time, and he only had less than ten minutes left before the twilight deadline, thanks to an initial slip-up that had led him back to the industrial part of town, which was pretty unusual for a proper city even by American standards. What had him on edge was the fact that enemy forces could be tracking his movements, probably waiting for the right moment to strike at the proper moment, whether he comes into contact with someone or manages to find his proper destination.

So I find Trent's favorite fast food chain, and then what? Is he supposed to show up for help - maybe send backup or something?

And if I don't show up in time, would he even be able to do anything to help, regardless?

Taking a left would probably lead him back to the Raccoon Press building - or maybe that was behind him? Straight ahead was an apparent dead end with a door he remembered he had yet to try. There was nothing he could lose for giving it a shot…

…and then he heard the unmistakable sounds of rushing footsteps approaching from somewhere behind him.

He hadn't fully turned his head around when a door crashed open, and two men in matching hooded uniforms emerged from the shadows, moving with military precision as they caught him in their sights. In that instant, Carlos was hit with the realization that he was their target, and he managed to dive into the nearby shop, narrowly avoiding the tight hail of gunfire directed at him. Several semi-automatic shots shattered what remained of the shop's broken glass, sending shards flying across the ruined shop, and Carlos' breath caught in his throat as he took in the understanding that had he not hesitated to dive inside and hide behind the front counter of the barbershop, he'd be dead by now.

Once everything became silent for a few moments, Carlos tried steadying his breath when he finally heard one of them shouting at him from outside the shop.

"Where are those messers you were with?!" one of them demanded, their heavy foreign accent filled with haste and violent aggression.

Carlos became utterly bewildered, not knowing who they were talking about. The only people he had come into contact with for the past several hours were Murphy, the squad C leader, Cryan, and one of the guys from Cryan's squad, Malone. He hesitated to answer back as they were probably hunting both of them down, though he could also demand who they were anyway.

He was limited to just two options: either shoot his way through to them and make a run for it or stall them long enough for Cryan and Malone to potentially come to his rescue, assuming they were still around somewhere…

…and he quickly remembered something else.

Flash! Could come in handy, si?

With his mind made up, he was ready to execute his improvised plan.

"We won't be asking again - tell us NOW!" the other quickly demanded, their subtle Russian accent leaking with immense rage.

"Even if I did know, you think I would tell you?!" Carlos retorted defiantly as he slowly grabbed one of his two remaining flash grenades from one of his belt's pouches. "And who the hell do you think you are to be playing god by killing survivors anyway?"

There were several sounds of crunching steps over shattered glass on the ground, both of the unknown soldiers slowly approaching the shop as the guy with the Russian accent yelled out in response, their voice remaining cold and unwavering.

"This is NOT a negotiation!" the former emphasized fiercely, his voice echoing throughout the destroyed shop. "Tell us where they are, or things aren't going to get any prettier for you!"

Carlos heard him reload his pistol, followed by the slide being pulled fiercely under a firm grip before both of them uttered something that sent chills down his spine.

"No survivors."

Huh?! These guys are insane!

With the sudden tension rising within the shop and seeing that he had no other recourse, Carlos discreetly pulled the flash grenade's pin and made a brief, calculated pause before tossing it toward the aggressive soldiers. One of them warned the other about the incoming flash grenade, but there was little time, if any, to react before its blinding light and deafening explosion emitted a high-frequency noise, causing them to become momentarily disoriented. Carlos immediately seized this temporary opportunity and made a run for it through the smoke and chaos left in the wake of the loud flashbang, reminding himself that he'd seen an open vent nearby large enough for him to slide through, hoping to evade his pursuers.

As he dashed out of the shop while the other soldiers stumbled back, trying their best to gather their surroundings, he took off his heavy vest and shoved it inside the vent, hearing it fall in a muffled splash of water somewhere inside. Without a second thought, he slid through the cramped and dusty space, trying his best to wiggle himself inside as fast as he could before immediately falling from a reasonable height directly into freezing, oily water.

Okay… that's freaking cold!

He landed in a crouch as he felt the icy water seeping through his clothes, sending intense shivers throughout his body. The cold liquid made every breath and movement a laborious effort, suddenly making him feel the heavy weight of the situation he was in as he picked up the soaking vest, shaking it slightly before putting it back on.

Not the brightest idea, but better than getting killed by those psychopaths outside.

As he tried shaking off the horrible chills he began to feel all around his body inside the dimly lit, waterlogged space, he overheard their muffled voices, trying his best not to make as much noise as he could inside wherever he was right now.

"Fuckin' gobshite got away!" the soldier said with what now seemed to be a heavily recognizable Irish accent. The soldier immediately sighed loudly. "C'mon, we've got our orders."

"You're giving up already?!" the Russian guy spitted out in a fury. "He was with those fools who fucking tortured me all those years ago! I am not giving up until I find them and kill them all!"

There was a moment of silence before their voices were now barely audible.

"If he came through here, we'll most likely find him as we go," the one with the thick accent told the other more calmly. "We ought to find Miss Valentine near the RPD, remember?"

There was a subtle growl from the other before the background noise of the basement's loud fans overwhelmed their fading voices.

"Rayos…" Carlos said softly in Spanish, trying to take a deep breath of relief through the moldy air inside the flooded room, suddenly now muttering his unspoken motto as a plea to take a firm hold of his remaining sanity. "Don't sweat it, hang loose, be cool. You're okay, for now." After a while, it finally had a positive effect on his restless mind; his heart almost slowed back to normal, and he felt like a person again, not some panicking lunatic.

So these people were really looking to exterminate anyone left alive. The fact that he thought he would've been used to dealing with a violent world filled with people driven by bloodlust was something that was proven to be the complete opposite when he briefly met with their murderous eyes. It was bad enough to be forced to kill people in revolutionary wars, and his mindset had always been about protecting the innocent and ensuring a future for the better good, not necessarily focusing on the fact that the enemy forces he fought over the years had outside lives just like him and the rest of his fellow fighters. Zombies were one thing, as they were slow and somewhat predictable at best. However, people who have no qualms about committing genocides and massacres at a large scale seemed far more dangerous and unpredictable than he would've liked to admit.

They must be going after me for surviving the initial onslaught, too…

But what did they mean by me having been with those "fools" who tortured him? Who were they really talking about?

And that lady they mentioned… why were they so interested in her anyway?

He didn't know any of these answers, and he almost certainly didn't care much to understand their current motives to kill people indiscriminately, other than the fact that they were just heartless bastards. He tried reassuring himself that if this Valentine woman were still alive throughout the chaos within the city, she would know how to take care of herself properly…

…and then it clicked him.

Isn't she one of the STARS officers from that report earlier?

Jill Valentine, isn't it? Same one?

Immediately, it started to make sense to him.

She was one of the last remaining survivors of some kind of forest fire that had apparently erupted within the Arklay Forest. The only thing implied in the report was that she, along with the rest of her crew, had dealt with something similar to the zombies wandering around the city streets, and no one believed them. Of course, Carlos had once been dismissive of the idea of zombies ever being a thing, but after he saw how that man in the alley acted toward Ignatius, his thoughts soon began to creep into acceptance that monsters really did exist to an extent, and zombies were no exception.

And they want Jill dead for all the information she most likely possesses with everything happening here. Could start looking for her along the way by the time I…

…oh shit!

Three minutes. He only had three damn minutes to find Burger Town.

Realizing he had wasted too much time pandering inside the chilling flooded basement, he switched his attention to getting out of there, moving towards the only corner to the right and toward a nearby ladder as adrenaline pumped more furiously with each grueling step inside the cold liquid. The ladder was covered in mold and slime, and he tried his best to ignore the disgusting feeling of the rusty metal rungs. Once he reached the last pair of rungs, he pushed the semi-opened metal hatch above him, trying to shove the thing aside with one hand as much as he could until there was enough space to climb through the narrow opening.

He emerged into a spacious, well-lit kitchen, a restaurant's kitchen.

After standing up on dry ground, the chill of the basement's water continued to drip from his soaked clothes, creating an uncomfortable sensation. As he quickly looked around, his wet boots squelched with each step, leaving a water trail behind him. The frigid water had clung almost all over his skin underneath his clothes, and he felt his body suddenly shivering involuntarily.

There was no one around, and it was unusually quiet except for a soft hiss coming from a large gas tank standing against the back wall to his right. Instinctively, he took a deep breath, unable to smell anything unusual. At least it wasn't toxic nerve gas.

Even if it was, I ain't leaving until I know for sure whether or not this is Trent's place.

He quickly paced through the kitchen, walking past shining metal counters and stoves as he headed toward the dining area.

Once he stood near the front counter where customers would order their food, he picked up a small pamphlet about the restaurant, and relief began to consume him with emotions he hadn't felt in a long time as he read it in silence.

BURGER
TOWN

Burger Town patties are never cooked in a microwave!

Only the finest skillets are used to make the burger-licious meat we put inside our customers.

The last phrase put him slightly on edge if it wasn't for the fact that he was stuck in a city filled with monsters that wanted anything fresh to consume, whether their fresh meat was dead or alive. He looked up at the top wall near the ceiling behind him, noticing an extensive variety of burgers and fries with a cartoony, rotund-looking man holding up Burger Town's large sign above the menu. This made Carlos grow a slight grin for a quick moment before immediately frowning afterward.

Murphy would've loved to eat at one of these places here in the States…

He found himself unnerved at how he felt relief even though his friend and the rest of his squad were now gone for good. This place had essentially become his salvation, and within just a few hours, Trent had gone from being some creepy old stranger to his best friend in the world.

Okay, so I made it, and he said he could help, right? He might have sent a rescue team to arrive at any moment or possibly arranged for me to be picked up here… or, at the very least, hid some weapons somewhere I could find. Not as good as an evac, but if it helps in any way possible, I'll take what I can get.

There was a small opening where employees would exit and enter between the dining room and the front space for taking orders. From where he was standing, he was able to see that the rest of the small, lesser-lit fast-food restaurant was empty, with a couple of the surrounding leatherette booths casting jittery shadows from a still-burning oil lamp placed over the center of one of its tables.

He stepped through the opening, walking past the front counter and out into the open space, subconsciously noting the faint smell of grilled and fried food lingering in the cool air as he searched for anything out of the ordinary. He wasn't sure what he was trying to look for specifically, but whatever it was, he definitely couldn't see it; no hidden messages, no mysterious packages, no old geezer waiting. Next to the front door was a payphone. Carlos walked over and picked up the receiver but got nothing, just like every other phone he'd tried in town.

He took another quick glance at his watch for what seemed to be the thousandth time over the past hour and saw it was one past midnight. There was a growl of anger and frustration growing within, only serving to increase his intense fear of the unknown. For all he knew, Cryan and Malone were already back at the newspaper office building, looking for him, probably worried about his well-being. It was hitting him like a bag of bricks, the realization making him mad at himself for following a piece of nonexistent hope from a stranger that might've sent him to his death. Trent could've most likely been a spy working for the group of killers running rampant inside the city, luring him directly into a trap, and now it was looking like a waiting game for the inevitable to happen…

No one knows I'm here other than maybe those psychos out there. No one will come to help.

I'm all on my own…

"Alright - you got me, okay?" he said, turning to face the empty space inside the dining room with his arms stretched out in the open air on his sides, his voice rising with a mixture of dread and contempt. " You managed to kill everyone in my team - and you wanted me alive, right? Well, I'm standing right here, so wherever you are, do your worst!"

As if on cue, the phone behind him began to ring, the shrill sound startling him, and Carlos was initially hesitant to answer before deciding to confront whoever was calling him through the payphone, wanting to demand answers from them. His heart pelted him restlessly from the inside as he grabbed the receiver and put it over his ear, his voice now as cold as his body felt with his wet vest and pants.

"Before you say anything - I wanna know why are you—!"

"Hola, Mr. Oliveira!" Trent's gruff accent came through his ear. "Very nice to hear from you!"

There was a brief pause, and Carlos didn't know what to think anymore, unsure if he wanted to feel relieved or furious to hear his voice again. After thinking about it silently, he finally sagged against the wall, slowly closing his eyes as he sighed deeply.

"Are you… working for those people?" he asked cautiously, his voice regressed in defeat.

Another pause and Trent began to utter something in return.

"Perseus…" he said casually. "Paramilitary organization with the sole purpose of destroying Western civilization as we know it. Call it… the aggressive remains of the Soviet Union."

Carlos' grip tightened on the receiver, quickly opening his eyes and scanning his surroundings, ensuring he wasn't caught off-guard by anyone possibly spying on him.

"So, you're with them!" Carlos snapped, the fear and relief he felt before instantly vanishing into a rage and vengeful fury. "They killed most of my platoon - turned the whole population into monsters, slaughtered an entire city! How could this massacre benefit anybody?!"

There was yet another pause before Trent sighed and came up with a calm and steady response.

"If I'd been Perseus, you would've been dead before you had the chance to step outside your living quarters," he said in a matter-of-fact tone. "Anyone else knows you're at the designated place?"

Again, Carlos looked around several times and saw nothing but a completely abandoned fast-food restaurant.

"No, I don't think so," he responded, shaking his head as he tried calming himself down. "But if you knew this… Perseus… was responsible for all this; why didn't you warn me about them? Could've saved many lives if you did."

"I'm very sorry, but understand that risks were involved, and I had to factor in every possibility," he apologized. "I cannot help you survive; that is your job, but I can still give you information. I'm afraid things are going to get much worse for you, so be prepared to listen carefully as time is brief. Since you have proven to be very wise and trustworthy, there's one more thing I'd like to request before I give you helpful information."

He took a deep breath and nodded to himself, not seeing any other option as he gradually sunk into the complete understanding that he was essentially all on his own.

"Okay," he said, slowly standing up, straightening his shoulders as he fought the continuous shiver from the cold chill of the basement's flood water. "What is it?"

"There was this man spotted walking down the streets near Raccoon General Hospital last night. His name is Frank Woods. Late sixties. Brown-grayed hair with rough stubble, last seen wearing a stolen lab coat over a hospital gown. He was part of STARS, Special Tactics and Rescue Service, before being pronounced 'dead' weeks after an incident at a nearby mansion. His current whereabouts are unknown, but this is where you come in. Would you agree to find and escort him at all costs?"

Carlos gave a sigh of mental exhaustion. "Do I have a choice?"

Trent chuckled briefly. "Not if you plan to increase your chances of living beyond the boundaries of the dead city."

Whatever information Trent said he possessed could be vital to saving his life, as well as Cryan and Malone's, if they were still alive somewhere. If this man from the hospital were also STARS, as Trent said he was, then he would most likely be another name on their long list of targets. He debated silently to himself whether or not he would be worth the trouble until his guilty conscience finally gave him the answer he knew he couldn't disapprove of regardless.

We came to this city to save people, not to condemn them all to their deaths, like Perseus or whatever those soldiers call themselves anyway.

And that Valentine chick… I have to find her, too, before they do.

"Alright," Carlos spoke softly. "Tell me more."

September 24th

Comments, Description of Reported Misdemeanor, Case 29-087:

Two of the twelve faux gems that are installed on a jewel-decorated clock at the main gate of the municipal complex were removed just before dawn at 0500 hours this morning.

After numerous incidents as a result of the cannibal disease, many local businesses have been boarded up at this time. Looters have become a problematic issue following these closures, many of which have come their way to deface town property and attempt to take what they believe to be valuable. It is believed that the perpetrators initially thought the gems were authentic and stopped after having stolen said gems when they realized they were glass material.

This gate, also known as the "City Hall" gate, is only one of several entrances that lead to the municipal complex. The gate will remain closed due to its complicated (and, in this officer's opinion, highly ridiculous) design lock, which requires all twelve gems to be installed for the gate to unlock.

Due to the lack of available officers at this time, I am forced to suspend the investigation of this case.

Reporting Officer Marvin Branagh

September 26th

Additional Comments, Case 29-087:

One of the missing gems had finally turned up inside the police station.

At around 1000 hours this morning, Bill Hansen, the general manager of the local Burger Town building downtown, arrived at the station to seek shelter when, 10 minutes later, he started showing obvious symptoms of the cannibal disease. He had been shot to death by Officer David Ford after succumbing to the effects shortly thereafter. The officer on the scene found the lost gem on his person, though there is currently no way of knowing if he stole it or retrieved it himself. As of writing this, there's no evidence about where the other gem might be.

Because the city is currently under martial law, no effort can be made to find the second gem or install this one back in its place. Several of the surrounding streets are impossible to travel through, so the need for these gems may become relevant in the near future.

Note: This will be my last written report, at least until the city-wide crisis is over. Paperwork is not the current priority for what is at stake, and right now, I'm starting to believe it is becoming too late for us to finally heed the STARS' warnings when we had a lot of time on our hands to start a formal investigation into Umbrella before everything got out of control.

Marvin Branagh, RPD

Jill put the handwritten report back into the evidence drawer, wondering about his potential fate, a depressing thought that had her gazing inside the drawer for almost a whole minute. He had been one of the best officers in the RPD, always the nicest of the bunch without sacrificing his firm but professional demeanor.

"Marvin…" Jill murmured, her voice tinged with a mixture of hope and sadness. "I hope he made it out in time."

"Who's he?" said Gwen, pausing whatever she was doing as she stood up slowly beside her to face Jill for a moment. "Was he in STARS too, or…?"

Jill took a deep breath, shuddering slightly before looking back at the teenager soon after.

"No, he was just another fellow officer of the RPD - also one of many who didn't believe us about this whole thing, but at least he dealt with it at a professional level and did not blindly throw blame at anyone or anything without first seeing actual evidence." Jill looked back at the drawer once more, taking out a diamond-shaped piece of blue glass, when her tone lowered down into a state of contempt as she whispered, "Not like the Chief anyway."

"Oh, don't even get me started with that paunchy prick," said Frank, who had apparently overheard her uttering on the other side of the room, much to Jill's astonishment.

"How did you even hear that?" she said in a normal volume this time as she tucked the gem into her fanny pack for now, staring at the gap above the large row of cabinets in the middle of the room.

"Oh, he didn't tell you?" Gwen teased, her mouth twirling in a lopsided grin. "He's like freakin' Wolverine and Superman! Back at his place, he punched the wall like—"

"Gwen!" Frank snapped at her, and both women did not hear anything else from him other than the sounds of his hands rummaging inside some of the drawers on the other side of the row of cabinets and drawers.

Before Jill could take out the gem again to get a closer look at it, Gwen tapped her on her left shoulder, and when Jill turned to look at her, Gwen silently proceeded to tell her about it through speechreading.

Fortunately for Jill, she had been quite good at lipreading and figuring out the basics of sign language, something that her father had also taught her if she ever found herself in situations like this where it would prove to be an extremely valuable asset.

If her knowledge of sign language wasn't faltering, Gwen was telling her that Frank had apparently been experimented on by Umbrella, causing him to have superhuman abilities through enhanced hearing, strength, and healing. This unspoken statement in itself was enough to cause Jill to feel stunned and much more enraged toward Umbrella than she had ever been before. It was bad enough to deal with the loss of an additional teammate, but to experiment on them in secret?

And how did they manage to resurrect him?

Is he really himself?

She hadn't had the time to notice anything earlier, but as she continued to think about it, Frank did seem slightly different than before. He had fewer wrinkles and gray hairs than she remembered him back in July. The way he threw that STARS office chair against the wall, hard enough to send it flying and create a dent in the wall, made it seem like he had strength comparable to Adrian as a Tyrant…

Immediately, she was only able to think about one thing that could have caused these changes, and that was…

No. No!

She was unwilling to accept the idea that crept inside her mind. It was simply preposterous to entertain the thought that they used a variant of the t-Virus to bring him back to life somehow, unable to accept the possibility that he could die or turn from exposure to the virus at any given time.

Jill took it upon herself to ask Gwen through sign language if she knew anything else about what had happened to him next, but she was only met with a simple shrug, making her feel uneasy about Frank's health. Despite the fact that he possesses enhanced abilities, it didn't make it any more comforting to think that such abilities could very well be temporary before the worst may come.

C'mon, don't think like that. Maybe Umbrella thought the chances of him coming back to life or surviving the infection after all this time were slim to none. They probably don't even know he's still walking around with superhuman powers…

At least he seems alright…

Gwen had already turned around to continue searching through the drawers at the very bottom, and Jill turned her gaze back at the fake jewel she was holding in her hand again, now trying to force herself to think of something else other than Frank's potential fate.

Marvin had been right about the blocked streets, though…

She'd just remembered the last time she tried heading to the City Hall gate area and found most of it barricaded. Not that there was much over there - the gate led into a small garden with paved walkways. Much of its main purpose was to showcase a rather dull statue of Mayor Michael Warren. Past the garden was the old City Hall building, which has seen not much use ever since the new courthouse had been built in the uptown area. Two winding paths were located at the end of the paved walkway, one to the north and the other further west. Up north was the Stagla gas station, next to an auto shop, and she remembered Alex saying he planned on visiting the shop at some point to get his car fixed due to the lack of tools he required just hours before Frank "died" at the hospital. To the west…

Oh, shit, the old trolley!

Why hadn't she thought of it before? Jill felt a growing rush of excitement, hampered only slightly by the urge to slap her forehead for having completely forgotten about it. The old-fashioned two-car train was mainly used for touring purposes which was only in operation during the weekends, but it extended all the way past Raccoon Zoo and the western suburbs where Alex, Frank, Brad, and a few others from STARS used to live. Somewhere along the railway was an optional detour where an allegedly abandoned Umbrella facility was located further out of the city, a good starting place to look for working cars and more open roads. She knew the subway trains were connected to the city's main power grid, which meant they were most likely not under working conditions, but assuming the trolley on the surface didn't need much maintenance to get it running and in working order…

Then that's where we need to go and get out of this city after meeting with Dario.

Nodding to herself, she was about to emphasize their plan out of the city when she heard Frank pull a locked drawer hard enough to throw it out of its place toward the ground, shaking the whole row of drawers in front of her and Gwen for a brief moment. Both women met eye to eye, with Jill not knowing what to say or how to respond to Frank's apparent strength, which, by now, didn't seem like he was even trying to hide it anymore.

With a resolute sigh, Jill made her way to the other side of the room, and by the time she saw him looking through dropped bags of confiscated materials, most of which were parts for high-yield explosives, she decided to confront him about his "condition".

"Frank?" she said firmly, staring at the mess he'd made, along with the metal drawer heavily bent from where he had pulled it. The required strength to not only remove the locked drawer but to bend the thick metallic handle as though it were made of paper or cheap plastic would have to be at inhuman levels.

Jill sighed again, shuddering slightly this time. "Frank, we've gotta talk. About your…"

"There's nothing to talk about," he cut her off dryly, not even bothering to look at her as he kept a blank expression while opening several bags and using the parts inside to craft a functional bomb. "We find Gwen's father and get the fuck out of the city before Nemesis comes back. End of story."

"Nemesis?" Jill echoed, raising an eyebrow as chills began to overwhelm her body just from having heard the term itself to describe the Tyrant-looking creature. "Is that its name?"

Frank nodded silently, still in the process of crafting a bomb, barely paying much attention to Jill's frozen gaze at him.

Jill lost herself in thought once again, wondering how he knew of the creature's name, but whatever the case was, she still needed to know if he really was okay, if he was still feeling like himself…

"Frank, I'm worried about you," she said softly, trying to approach him slowly, reaching for his shoulder. "What happened to you at the hospital? What did they do to you?"

There was a fierce click after having closed the cap to the fuse for the explosive, and as soon as he finished what he needed to do with it, he immediately stood up, shrugging off Jill's hand as he took a step back. Without uttering a single word, he took out a pocket knife, exposing the small blade in front of his other free hand, and in that instant, Jill knew what he was about to do, gasping, but couldn't react in time to stop him when suddenly, he swiftly cut himself on the palm of his hand, letting it bleed through his fingers for a moment before raising it in the air, his lips tightened in a grim line.

Jill's eyes began to widen once she saw the deep cut stop bleeding just seconds later, the skin tissue slowly knitting itself back together as though some invisible force worked with his body to repair itself completely. Before her very eyes, the injury was now gone, leaving behind flawless, unblemished skin where the cut once was, the remains of his blood showing as though it never belonged to him.

"Umbrella did this to me," he muttered, his voice tinged with bitterness as he proceeded to pull up his shirt from below, revealing huge faded scars on his bare chest from the Tyrant attack he'd endured all those weeks ago, which was followed by a shrug. "I barely feel human anymore."

Jill felt a heavy clump inside her throat, fearing that her dreadful theory was correct.

"So… did they — are you…?"

"Infected with the same virus as everything else in this goddamn place?" he finished the sentence for her as he turned his back on her, confirming Jill's feeling. "I'm pretty much fucked either way."

"But you're not a zombie or… showing any symptoms…right?" Jill faltered, feeling that awful helplessness building up inside her gut again.

There was an uncomfortable silence between them until Jill looked back to see Gwen stepping out into view, giving Jill an apologetic look. In return, Jill silently reassured her that she did nothing wrong in telling her everything she knew about Frank.

Looking back at Frank's back, they saw him with his hands resting on his hips, his head hanging as he slowly shook his head. A moment later, he turned to look at them both, his face filled with a mixture of repugnance and disbelief.

"Whatever they did to me - we all know it's not going to end well for me," he uttered almost in defeat.

"You don't know that," said Gwen firmly. "I've seen people turn in a matter of minutes, an hour or two tops. It's been hours since I first found you. Wouldn't you have turned by now if you really were infected?"

Jill turned her attention to her for a brief moment, swallowing slightly. "When we arrived at the 'abandoned' mansion in the forest, we discovered that the virus can turn someone into a zombie within at least forty-eight hours after infection." She switched her gaze back to Frank. "But with this new strain, I mean… maybe you've got some immunity to it, considering your condition. We don't know."

"Exactly," Frank affirmed sternly. "We don't know, but I mean, for fuck's sake! They worked with Perseus to develop bioweapons! And you know what happened to Lisa and her entire family, to Serrano, and everyone else that were turned into monsters. I'm no exception." He began walking closer to the exit of the room from where they first came, his hand already gripping the handle when he turned his head to the side. "Gonna go check the darkroom for spare equipment. Shouldn't take long."

Jill wanted to protest and speak out against his previous statement but quickly found that she couldn't because he was, unfortunately, right.

Anyone who had been experimented on by Umbrella was either turned into a mindless bioweapon or eventually died in the process of becoming one. Her resolve to hold onto the possibility that Frank won't somehow succumb to the virus was heavily wavering, her mind drifting back to the faces of her fallen teammates, of their recent loss that had also taken place just outside of the station…

…no, she could not think about that. She could not allow the raging tumult to overcome her. Not now or ever again…

Taking a firm grip on Barry's old .357 revolver, she decided it was time to focus on their current task: getting out of the RPD as soon as possible.

"Oh, wait!" she spoke out quickly, suddenly remembering something she had forgotten to tell them.

"Hm?" Frank mumbled irritably, closing the door back in its place again, yet still holding onto the handle.

"Yeah?" Gwen followed, sounding more curious than Frank did.

Jill showed them the fake blue gem and began explaining a devised plan she already had in her mind, telling them about Marvin's report and the possibility of being able to use the old trolley to get out of town if they could somehow gain access to the second gem, assuming Bill Hansen had the other one stored somewhere in Burger Town.

"Oh, yeah!" said Gwen, almost in a mixture of nostalgia and excitement. "After moving into the city, I remember going to the central station every weekend with my friends when we were kids. Didn't know it was now connected all the way closer to the outskirts of town, though."

"Then it's settled," Frank acknowledged, nodding. "We'll go find Dario, then head to Burger Town to search for this jewel of yours." He gave a low sigh in the end. "I miss their exclusive Triple Chili Time Bomb they had here in Raccoon. That was the bomb."

Jill and Gwen couldn't resist but give in to the urge to laugh.

"Okay, that was not even a good attempt," Jill snickered.

"And I thought my dad had the worst dad jokes ever," Gwen followed up, trying to cover her mouth in order to suppress her loud giggles.

Frank grinned, apparently feeling satisfied seeing them laugh at his bad attempt at a dad joke.

"I know Mason would've done better, but at least I tried," he disclosed, his smile slowly falling away after mentioning Alex, deciding to look away from the duo as the laughter faded away when both women noticed his sudden change in demeanor. "Wherever he is, I know he hasn't given up the fight. I just know it."

Jill tried to find his lost gaze as she stepped closer to him, with Gwen following behind her as well.

"Alex may have changed after your 'passing' but he still had that glint of determination I've seen him have since I first met you both. He vowed to take down Perseus and Umbrella no matter what - before he went missing."

"For what it's worth," stated Gwen, standing next to Jill before putting a gentle hand over Frank's shoulder, "I believe in you - just as much as you believed in me back at your place. I know you'll find him." - she turned her head in Jill's direction - "Both of you will."

Jill smiled serenely. "That's very kind of you."

Frank nodded at her as well, forcing up a lopsided smile as he patted Gwen's shoulder from behind her. He switched gazes between the two. "I won't be long."

"Why don't we just go together?" Gwen inquired, looking back and forth between Frank and Jill. "Safety in numbers and all?"

"It's only just across from—"

"She has a point," Jill added quickly, reminding herself that if she wanted to lessen the chance of people dying, they'd all have to stick together, no matter what. They all learned that the hard way back at the mansion, and it was still the best choice they had. "Better to be safe than sorry, remember?"

Frank appeared to hesitate for a few seconds, staring at them blankly as though trying to think of a way to argue against it before finally becoming subdued to a deep breath of weariness.

"Alright, then. Stick closely."

He proceeded to open up the front exit again, slowly checking around the hall outside before quickly turning to the left and telling them quietly to come out, his firearm aimed upward and pressed tightly on both hands just above his right shoulder. Gwen kept her distance behind his heels while Jill stepped back to cover them both from behind, just to be safe from any surprises.

The hall was pretty quiet, much like everywhere else in the station. There was a small blood trial on the ground, evidence of someone having bled for brief moments, and while there was no immediate danger around, Frank held a hand up as a signal to stop where they were. Jill looked behind by instinct but found nothing had been following them so far.

"What is—?"

"Shh!" Frank quickly silenced a whispering Gwen, and as Frank cocked his head to the side where a window was located, he seemed to be scanning the walls around it instead, as if something inside them was housing a swarm of deadly crawlers around them. Gwen took a few steps back, and Jill noticed her body started to shiver in a chilling apprehension.

Jill was about to walk past Gwen to inquire what was keeping Frank the way he was when suddenly, the door to Gwen's left burst open, and a zombie was now grappling her, letting out a sharp yelp as she tried fighting off the zombified cop with one arm.

"No!" Jill screamed, trying her best to rush at the zombie, while Frank wasted no time to do the same.

Before any of them could shove the zombie away from her, Gwen had her gun already aimed at the rotten cop and began shooting it twice in the head, impacting its broken nose and another one directly in its forehead, killing it instantly. The shots echoed so loudly that instead of shoving the zombie away from her, Gwen immediately covered her ears, almost in pain. She let the corpse fall right next to her as its eerie groans faded along with the reverberated shots, its head splattering blood across the tiled ground, all while Gwen collapsed against the wall behind her and began to whimper and cry slowly.

Jill knew what she must have been feeling in each of those moments that flashed before her: a horrible experience of stepping closer to death's door.

With this in mind, she crouched down next to her, putting a gentle hand over her shoulder, and uttered softly, "It's okay. You did well, Gwen."

"You're stronger than you think, kid," Frank followed after, putting a reassuring hand over her other shoulder, his voice laced with deep empathy, almost fatherly-like. "I want you to know that."

"I…I…I had never shot anyone before. A-and then when he grabbed me, I… I thought…" Gwen sniffled as she stammered, her hands trembling wildly. "I thought that was it for me… Like mom… Oh, God…" She began to break down uncontrollably, shaking in tears as she covered her face in a mixture of fear and shame.

"Hey, come here," said Frank slowly, pulling her in a hug, and Gwen's cries began to rise louder in volume, even as they were muffled between his neck and shoulder, lasting for as long as Gwen could try calming herself down with Frank's soothing rubs on her back.

Jill's gaze softened as she watched the grizzled veteran's sturdy frame envelop the trembling teenager. Gwen's sobs began to die down, her shoulders relaxing under the weight of his comforting presence, and Jill couldn't help but feel a pang of nostalgia tugging at her heartstrings, the memory of her own father's embrace flooding her mind.

She remembered her childhood when her father used to hold her in times of need, his reassuring embrace a shield against the world's uncertainties. Although her father had been a known criminal with a rough demeanor, he still held a heart of gold. In Frank's embrace, she'd seen and experienced that reflection of that same parental warmth, an unspoken reassurance that even in the darkest of times, there is still a light of hope within the void of anguish and despair.

As the moment passed and Gwen's trembling body gradually subsided back to normal, Frank grabbed onto her shoulders, gently moving her to keep her gaze on him, his unwavering reassurance still etched on his weary face.

"Better?" he asked smoothly, putting up a genuine smile.

Gwen sniffled again, wiping some of her tears away as she slowly nodded at him. She then proceeded to apologize.

"Sorry — I know I should've—"

"It's alright, kid," Frank cut her off, still keeping a smile at her. "We've all been there before. Call yourself lucky, too. Never had anyone to lean on when I was your age."

"Why?" she asked curiously, her voice still shaky from her earlier breakdown.

"Bunch of half-witted assholes. Let's leave it at that," he said almost coldly before looking down at the corpse from earlier. "Ford, you poor bastard…"

"You guys knew him?" queried Gwen as she stood up with Frank, looking down as well, while Jill proceeded to inspect him further, trying to swallow up some of the bile she felt inside.

"He was good friends with our partner, Chris," she stated, shaking her head in disgust at how terrible he looked while also being able to smell the stench that was coming out from him, though not as much as many other zombies she'd encountered so far, which meant he must've died not that long ago. There were at least three different bite marks across his greyed skin over his left arm, as well as his shoulders and back, with a chunk of his left cheek missing. From the looks of it, he most likely tried to save someone or multiple people from an incoming group of zombies, using his own body as a meat shield. "Probably sacrificed himself to try and save others…"

"Sounds like him," said Frank before pulling his gaze to a woman's corpse on the ground that had been lying right before the door to the darkroom. "Too many people have died in this… fuckin' shithole. Let's get moving."

Frank began walking toward the darkroom's entrance, and Jill followed after him while Gwen proceeded to walk toward the window, staring at the night's dead background for a long moment, her gaze wandering into the dark void, apparently thinking to herself.

Jill turned back to step closer to her, noticing her obvious absence from the reality around them.

"Gwen?" Jill called out to her. "Are you doing okay?"

Gwen said nothing for a moment before turning her whole body around, now staring at the ground, her shoulders slumped and hanging as she took a deep breath. A few seconds later, she finally looked up at her with a mixture of gloom and rising hope.

"Both of you will… stay with me, right?" she asked almost with uncertainty. "At least until we're out of town?"

Jill's expression softened up, a gentle resolve filling inside her. "We're sticking together for as long as we can — I promise."

Frank turned around and walked up next to Jill, his gaze fixated on Gwen. "We're not going anywhere without you, you hear me? All of us will get through this together. Remember that promise."

Gwen nodded at the duo, seemingly satisfied with their reassurances, and as Jill and Frank turned around to take the path to the darkroom, Jill sensed that Gwen was still quite hesitant to move forward, but after a brief moment, she began to hear her light footsteps from across the hall, a sign showing that Gwen was ready to tackle anything wherever they went.

Reminds me a lot of when I was a teen. Though I was a bit more…

CRASH!

The large window imploded, a racing rain of glass spraying over Gwen, shards of it slicing over her legs and bare arms. At the same time, a giant black mass was hurled inside, bigger than a human being, towering in front of a stumbling and screaming Gwen, as enormous as…

Nemesis!

It was all she had time to think about when an intense guttural cry emerged from Frank's lips. He was already sprinting after the hulking frame and lunged forward, his fists throwing heavy punches at the STARS killer's head. Just when Jill tried pulling Gwen away from the monstrous being, she heard loud cracks beneath the Tyrant's thick skin, bones somehow becoming either broken or displaced, a shocking revelation of the amount of strength Frank was pulling out of his smaller body compared to the towering creature. (Bonus Track - Nemesis' Theme/Tetrodotoxin)

"Get out of here! Don't look back!" Jill instructed as she aimed with Barry's old .357 revolver, though feeling afraid of hitting Frank by accident.

"No!" Gwen yelled defiantly in a combined cry of pain, dread, and determination as she gripped her gun and stood next to Jill. "I'm sick of running away, and Frank needs our help!"

Before any of the women could do anything in response, there was an immense growling rage from the giant creature, still crouched down from the dramatic entrance it'd taken before it grabbed onto Frank with one hand and violently threw him across the hall where both women were. They barely managed to move out of the way when Frank hit the ground with a bone-rattling force from which they were standing, cracking the tiled floor completely, followed by the opening note of the Nemesis' single-minded cry, "SSTAARRSS!"

The impact should've killed Frank with the way he hit the surface, but somehow, he was still alive, with a few of his bones cracking in place as he slowly tried to get up, his head bleeding from various wounds through and around his tightened bandana that soon began to quickly heal up, groaning in pain. Whatever Umbrella did to him, it allowed him to endure physical trauma that no ordinary human could ever survive on their own.

Gwen immediately rushed over to him and tried her best to help him get up on his feet.

"Are you okay, dad?! I mean —" Gwen stopped herself, apparently realizing her mistake, though Jill had barely paid any attention to them when she clearly saw what Nemesis was holding at that very instant, her gaze locked onto the large object clutched in its monstrous grasp as it took several crunching steps forward, aiming…

It can use weapons!?

"GET DOWN!" Jill shouted at the top of her lungs, her voice filled with extreme fright and terror as she pulled Gwen and Frank to the ground.

Shhh-BOOM!

A luminous flare of light and smoke jetted above them, blowing a jagged, burning hole to the floor at the end of the hallway, not far from where they were. Debris made of blackened marble and ceramic tile flew in all directions, blown up in an explosion of heat and noise.

"Fucker has a rocket launcher?!" Frank yelled breathlessly, still groaning in severe pain. The tense realization that the creature could yield a powerful weapon somehow gave him enough energy to get up on both feet, pull Gwen and Jill with him, and make a run for it.

"MAIN LOBBY! GO-GO-GO!"

The door to the evidence room was violently thrown back from one of its hinges when Frank knocked it over with his own shoulder, thanks to his superhuman strength and the explosion that the rocket had caused. Then, he broke the next door to the West Office, though only enough to crack through the wall's material from where the door's deadbolt connected.

Jill made sure to stay behind Gwen, letting her try keeping pace with Frank as Jill instinctively closed the door behind them, even after knowing full well it wouldn't stop the monster in its tracks, especially when its lock was now completely destroyed.

Taking a sharp left, the desks inside the office blurred in her vision; chairs and shelves splattered with blood and rancid fluids of at least two cops that she and Frank had killed earlier, now turned to obstacles in their path.

Gwen had tripped on one of them, her legs and bare arms still bleeding from the cuts she'd received earlier, and made a quick squeal of pain as she hit the blood-stained ground, her eyes filled with tears of intense fear and panic.

"Gwen!" Frank called out to her in concern when he heard the loud thud behind him as soon as he had opened the door to the main lobby, turning back and trying to help her up.

Jill had just finished leaping over the last twisted corpse when she heard the door open, no, disintegrate behind her, a deafening roar of splinters and cracking wood that wasn't close to drowning out the Nemesis' own roar of bloodlust.

"HURRY!" Jill shouted in desperation as she stopped to turn around for a brief moment and shoot at the creature with the revolver in hand, the recoil almost powerful enough to knock her backward but still managing to keep a steady aim. The shot tore through its dark fabric and into its meat, splattering blood and bits of its flesh from the side of its neck, though not enough to keep it from slowly aiming the massive weapon at the trio.

"Oh shit… RUN!"

Frank and Gwen were already ahead of her once again, pushing through the opened door and out into the main lobby, and Jill followed right after, with the single thought in her mind to just run for it and not look back as she heard and felt the thunderous footsteps closing in not far behind her.

Shhh-BOOM!

The rocket-propelled grenade had somehow made its way out into the main lobby as it jetted past her, the Nemesis being intelligent enough to keep its aim from one room and out into the other, blowing up the floor in a shower of splintered debris that wasn't far off from where Gwen and Frank were already running. The explosion caused many of the abandoned hospital and paramedic equipment to crash against one another, the RPD seal on the ground partially destroyed.

Frank used his body to shield Gwen from the flying debris of marbled tiles, protecting her from various cuts and scratches he himself had received on the back, though quickly healed up in a matter of seconds, leaving his T-shirt visible with ragged and bloody ripped marks across his back and torso.

"Come on!" Frank yelled wearily, pulling Gwen with him as Jill descended the ramp and ran past them.

Through her blind panic, Jill remembered Frank had deadbolted the front doors, the realization hitting her like a punch in the stomach. Unless Frank still had enough energy to break through the steel deadbolt and shatter the dense material that the doors were made of, they'd never get them open in time, no chance…

"JILL WATCH OUT!"

BOOM!

Gwen's warning was immediately followed by another blast from the monster's rocket launcher, close enough that Jill was almost thrown off her feet, feeling several splinters scratch her bare arms and cheeks. When the rocket had flown near her, she felt the air part next to her right ear when she had turned to look back for a brief moment, hearing the piercing whistle of incredible speed before the doors blasted open in front of her.

The doors hung loosely on their bent hinges, swaying and smoldering in dark smoke as all three of them rushed outside into the cool, dark night.

"SSSTAAARRRSSS!" Nemesis' furious cry reverberated through the hall and out into the night, its ominous tone a chilling reminder of the horrors that had invaded the poor town of Raccoon City.

Its echoing howl of rage drove them to double their efforts in getting as far away from the station as possible, all of them dimly aware that Brad's body was gone, but none bothering to utter this news out loud to one another.

Even as they had landed down the stairs that carried the entrance to the main lobby of the RPD, the Nemesis had already barreled down to where they had been an instant before, its powerful momentum having carried it just several giant steps away from them while crashing against the interior wall to give itself time to halt its heavy propelled weight. Once Frank had hit the metal squeal of the main gates to open them up as quickly as possible, something else had also happened at that very instant.

KABLAM!

A distant shot rang out, the echo mingling over the dreadful roaring of the Nemesis itself. Jill and Frank turned around to see if someone was trying to shoot down the Nemesis for them…

…but it was far from it.

Jill's heart sank as she saw Gwen's eyes widen in silent disbelief. Gwen looked down at herself in shock and terror, blood spreading over her abdomen with her hands clutching the wound in a futile attempt to stop the bleeding where a clear gunshot wound had been made.

"NOOO!"

Jill heard Frank's cries of despair and anger as he quickly dashed over to blindly shoot at her hidden attackers from somewhere up north in front of the RPD's main entrance. Jill didn't know exactly where the shot came from, her mind too focused on the Nemesis, knowing her .357 shots would barely faze it, if at all, and before she could do anything else in response, the monster took a few steps forward menacingly as though it were taunting them at the misery that was happening before them.

"C'mon, kid! C'mon!" his voice began to break as he caught her before her legs could collapse to the ground, scooping her in his arms.

At that moment, Jill was bombarded with racing thoughts that were finally making sense, thoughts on who was responsible for shooting an innocent girl like her without any remorse.

Perseus…

Guilt began to build up in her for not having trusted her gut when she'd first arrived at the station. She knew Kravchenko had to have been involved somehow, knew she was heading directly to the RPD, and no doubt he'd known Frank might've done the same, knowing he was still alive somewhere in the city. With the Tyrant programmed to kill any members of STARS single-mindedly, someone had to get rid of Gwen and plan her assassination in order to erase any evidence of the people responsible for this mess…

Killing any survivors indiscriminately…

Goddamn Perseus and Umbrella!

"MOVE!" Frank urged Jill as her mind changed back to reality, the STARS killer not far behind them.

"Go further ahead and take the first right to an alley!" Jill screamed out to him quickly. "I'm right behind you!"

With a whimpering Gwen still in his arms, Frank nodded and pushed through the gates, running further down the littered street. Jill immediately slammed the gates shut, scrabbling the shotgun off her back, vaguely aware that Kravchenko and his agents were most likely still aiming at them, probably waiting for the right moment to strike at either Frank or herself…

No time to think. Just lock it and GO!

She rammed the Remington through the gates' hoop handles, cracking against the barrel before she had time to let go, hard enough to realize that the gates wouldn't hold for very long, not that it mattered with the monster wielding a rocket launcher anyway.

Behind the gates and in close proximity, the Nemesis threw its weapon to the ground and began to scream and roar in an animal rage, a demonic sound filled with so much bloodlust that it made Jill shudder convulsively, feeling her bones rattling in fear. It was screaming for her, screaming for Frank's blood, the nightmare all over again… whether or not Perseus had been tracking their movements after all this time, they were marked for death by Umbrella's deadliest and most relentless bioweapon yet.

Gwen…

Reminding herself that Gwen may not have long to survive her gunshot wound, she turned and ran for her life, the tyrant's howl fading into the darkness falling behind her, not entirely caring if she got shot along the way, her mind now too preoccupied to keep that horrible, spine-chilling roar out of hearing range. Through many of the burning wreckage and remains left behind by the riots, she just ran and ran.

Nikolai was unable to resist killing Mikhail Viktor the moment he saw him wandering around. Technically, he didn't need to, nor was it his job to eliminate anyone left standing, but the opportunity was simply too enticing to let it pass. For whatever reason, the leader of Platoon Delta managed to survive, an honor he did not deserve.

Let's see how that will play out for him…

Nikolai felt high on thrill. He was ahead of the schedule he'd set for himself, and the rest of his journey through the sewers had gone relatively smoothly, to say the least. He had reported to Kravchenko earlier on, informing him that five of his nine targets had already perished, and told him about his plan on taking the cable car in Lonsdale Yard in order to reach the hospital easily.

"No," Kravchenko had warned him. "I had my men tamper with the equipment of the cable car three days earlier. Even if anyone gets it fixed, they will all meet their fate regardless."

"What transportation would you suggest, then?" Nikolai had inquired. "Subway's completely off-grid, and the underground tram leads further away from the hospital."

"Once my men take care of a few loose ends in this part of the city, you'll be informed," he'd told him, finishing his sentence in a drawling voice before immediately cutting off communication with him entirely.

Even though he hated being thrown into the dark with cryptic messages, he'd still been feeling extremely confident. Whatever Perseus needed to finish first, his schedule still allowed him to relax and take a break for a few moments to himself. Climbing back into the city and seeing Mikhail across the street from the roof of one of Umbrella's buildings - the perfect go-to for Perseus' sniper posts - was like some cosmic reward for his work so far. If only he had requested Bell or his personal pet to lend him a sniper rifle, he could've easily taken the shot at Mikhail, and he'd never know what hit him.

But even without access to a sniper rifle, Nikolai was very proficient with his marksmanship, more than enough that he could simply point his sidearm at Mikhail and still manage to hit him and cause him to bleed like a dying dog. The platoon leader was leaning against the wall of a lone security shack within the wrecking yard, changing mags for his assault rifle underneath a flickering beam of light. His current position was fully exposed from where Nikolai had been watching him, breathing heavily, almost as though he had run from an unseen force, possibly dealing against a legion of undead or some of Perseus' agents themselves. The blinking light would never allow him to see his killer.

Nikolai had been too focused on the platoon leader that he almost failed to catch the other two silhouettes rushing toward Mikhail on both sides, two uniformed agents that highly resembled those of Perseus, trying to ambush him, catching him slightly off-guard as they prevented him from finishing to reload his weapon but not enough to subdue him completely.

The first assailant had lunged forward, a blade glinting under the flickering light in their hand, their movements swift and lethal. Feeling almost half-surprised, Nikolai watched as Mikhail used his own strength against the attacker, parrying the knife with the barrel of his fully automatic rifle, the clash of metallic plastic reverberating through the yard itself. Noticing the second attacker coming from behind him, Mikhail quickly disarmed his first opponent with a calculated strike before knocking him unconscious with the butt of his rifle.

The second agent had pulled out a handgun, and Mikhail had been too late to react quickly when a shot tore through the air. Nikolai heard him grunt loudly, but somehow, the platoon leader was still able to roundhouse kick him against the wall of the shack, stunning him long enough for Mikhail to take out his own sidearm and shoot him straight in the head as a spray of blood painted the shack's white planks in a dark shade of crimson. Grabbing at what appeared to be a graze in his right arm, he aimed the SIG Pro down at the other unconscious assailant, shooting him in the head, most likely as a way to ensure none of them came back as zombies in case of infection.

A brief lull settled over the wrecking yard once again, the silence as powerful as the chaos that had unraveled recently. Nikolai watched again as Mikhail's chest heaved with exhaustion, muttering something silently to himself as he began to scan his surroundings for any signs of further danger before letting his back slide down over the wall where he had last stood near the now blood-stained shack.

Nikolai felt a flicker of rushing admiration flowing across his mind, quickly replaced by a sudden mixture of resolve and ruefulness.

Not bad for a survivalist…but unfortunately, none of us can have everything, Viktor.

Nikolai smiled and raised the M4, savoring the moment. A cool night breeze ruffled his cropped hair as he studied the weary mercenary's unknowing face. A headshot? No, he wanted Mikhail to suffer first, and on the off chance that he might have been infected, Nikolai wouldn't want to miss his full transformation. There was more than enough time to see it through as well. He lowered his aim by a hair, sighting one of his kneecaps. Very painful, but he would end up risking getting hit blindly by him, as he would still be able to use his arms to shoot in the dark.

Mikhail had just finished inspecting his rifle after having loaded in the dropped magazine, now standing back up and looking around once again as if to plot his next move. Nikolai kept his aim near his abdomen and fired a single shot, feeling extremely satisfied with his decision as the platoon leader doubled over, clutching his wounded gut. Suddenly, Mikhail was gone, around the corner of the small building and into the dark night. Nikolai heard Mikhail's distant grunts, the crunch of gravel fading away surprisingly faster than he could have ever anticipated.

Nikolai gritted his teeth in frustration.

In the instant that he took the shot, he wanted to see him squirm, roll over like an injured animal, and suffer from the painful and probably lethal wound. He should've at least seen this coming, considering the incredible feats he'd seen him do against a duo of Perseus agents that, according to Kravchenko, were supposed to be one of "the best of the best".

So, what? He dies in the dark, regardless. With an injury like that, I can catch up to him easily - watch him bleed and writhe in agony.

At least I'll have something to keep myself occupied…

It wasn't like how he'd initially planned it, but it should only take maybe about a few minutes to find and track him down using the trail of blood he'd be leaving behind. A five-year-old could do it.

Nikolai grinned.

And when I find him, I can offer my assistance, play the concerned comrade - "Was it those people out there, Mikhail? Here, let me help you out…"

He turned and hurried downstairs, already imagining the look on Mikhail's face when he realized the full truth about who was responsible for his predicament when he sank in the understanding that he'd been helping Perseus all along, when he noticed his own failure as a leader, as a real man.

Nikolai wondered how this night had become the best night of his life.

Author's Note: A lot went down in this chapter hehehe.

Poor Gwen, though. I mean, I think you all knew something was bound to happen to her one way or another, but I'm willing to bet most of you didn't see that one coming. Woods is gonna have a huge fit, should he find those responsible for shooting Gwen. All I can say is good luck to them because they're gonna need it when it comes to a vengeful Woods...

I ended up not buying MWIII after seeing how short and terrible the campaign was and the reviews that pretty much summed it all up. Knowing me, though, I may still end up buying it in the future, regardless, but that also depends on how many more of my friends end up getting it. A few of them already had, but even then, the game is not worth $70 for what it offers in comparison to the previous one. Let's be honest: no Call of Duty game is worth $70 anyway, but MWIII should be the least deserving of that price. I might just wait for a sales drop and see how future seasons go, and then I may consider getting it.

In the meantime, I'll continue replaying Cold War and the OG Resident Evil games with the Biorand randomizer. I may start doing some YouTube uploads for the latter, so if you wanna look forward to that, check out my channel EpsilonChurchRVB (same username as the one on this site). No guarantees, but I'll try to pull what I can to make time and start doing some vids.

Review response:

Guest - Exactly! And after what happened in this chapter, it's definitely going to get even more intense. I'm very happy you enjoyed the last chapter!

Thank you all for reading, and please don't hesitate to write a review or share anything you may have in mind after reading said chapter. If you don't feel comfortable giving a public review, you can always try to DM me. I'll do what I can to reply as soon as possible. Just keep in mind that the site doesn't give me any notifications or even story stats to keep track of everything, so if I don't reply within the next 24 hours, that's most likely the reason.

See you all next month! And for those of you living in the US, I hope you have a good Thanksgiving next week!