PPrreevv 2. Vows and Viruses Neexxtt
FanFiction | unleash your imagination
Righteous Anarchy
By: Kaiyun
One man, alone in infected New York City must overcome his troubled past and nightmarish present to see what the future holds for the former Anarchist. This is my first fic and I
do not own any part of RE. Rated for language and violence. Ch 5 up.
Rated: Fiction T - English - Horror/Angst - Chapters: 5 - Words: 10,968 - Reviews: 4 - Favs: 2 - Updated: Nov 8, 2004 - Published: Oct 8, 2004 - id: 2086792
Righteous Anarchy
Chapter 2: Vows and Viruses
Lilah Sapphire lay awake in her small but comfy bed of her apartment. She resided in a one-room apartment just a block away from St. James Catholic Church. The young girl was
bursting with excitement with anticipation.
Two days, just two more days and I will take my final vows and become a Nun!
She snuggled her petite frame deeper into the soft sheets, strands of frizzy brown hair splayed all across the white pillow. Lids closed over her big brown eyes that still sparkled
with child like innocence even after twenty-two years of life, seeming to defy the laws of time. Lilah heard her father's stern yet soft voice speaking in her head to go to sleep.
Sleep now, Lilly Princess, or you won't be able to open your eyes and see the sun when it comes up in the morning.
Every morning, Lilah would wake up and sit at her window with her morning cup of juice to watch the sun rise to welcome the new beautiful day. To her, every day was more
glorious than the last, even when it was rainy or stormy, because each day new lives were brought into God's wonderful world. Six months ago, the sun seemed to be more and
more hesitant to come greet her each morning. Even she knew that the change in seasons didn't make the sun that late. Now it didn't fully rise until almost nine o'clock, when she
was about to head over to the church for Father Micah's services. It was almost as if the sun's light was growing weaker to a world sinking in the darkness of Umbrella's black
shadow. Lilah sighed and reopened her eyes. She just couldn't get her mind to quiet down so she could sleep. The dim green numbers on her digital alarm clock, probably the
most expensive thing she owned, stated proudly that it was one seventeen in the morning.
"Ooh. Quiet down up there so I can get to sleep!" She squeaked at her own thoughts in mock frustration. The young woman's mind apparently listened because she was asleep in
a matter of minutes, happily dreaming of her life as a nun.
Alex was still staring blankly at the ceiling from on his back, trying to find some way to pass the time when an alarm sounded, a repetitive alternation of annoying noise and
silence.
Holychristhell!
The blare shattered the monotonous silence and shocked him onto his feet before he knew it. The young man looked around, barely hearing the pounding boots of dozens of
officers as they ran past his cell over the unrelenting buzzer. After a few minutes, Alex was ready to rip his ears off and scream if the alarm didn't stop soon, then all was quiet.
The same officers ran past again, this time going in the opposite direction, but this time they wore the rigid black riot armor complete with fully automatic weapons.
What the hell is going on? Was someone stupid enough to attack the Police? I hope they get me out of here...
Alex pressed himself against the bars of his cell, trying to look down the hall in the direction the armor-clad police had run.
They looked serious, like they were going out to kill someone...
He saw a guard, a portly man who looked like he had been behind the dispatch desk for most of his life with a stereotypical box of doughnuts. The man was walking towards his
cell, acting as the lone guard put on duty to make sure the prisoner didn't try and escape, and Alex knew well enough to back away from the door. These guys always looked for
any excuse to use brute force on inmates, but Alex had to know what was happening.
"Excuse me, Officer," He began tentatively, causing the rounded man to turn on him with a sneer. The little watery eyes and small nose made him look like a fat rat, but Alex kept
that little observation to himself.
"What the hell do you want?" The man had less charm than the baton gripped tightly with frustration in the wide hand.
"What's happening? Why is everyone running around?"
"Mind your own damn business." The black stick banged the cell bars, releasing a low toned ring and making Alex wince involuntarily. The guard moved on, satisfied that he had
effectively dealt with the delinquent. Alex sank down against the back wall, convinced he would not get anything from Mister Fat Rat there unless he miraculously turned into some
insanely gorgeous woman with very little clothing. That was something he doubted would happen to the fully denim clad young man. He looked at his watch; remembering the
times when they put him into a detainment cell only after an extensive strip search for any items that could be used to get out, commit suicide, or homicide. Now, it didn't matter
because the officers were allowed to use any force they wished, necessary or unnecessary, and didn't really care if the detainees decided to kill themselves or each other.
It was four in the morning, almost five hours since he committed his first homicide. At least that wasn't on his list of charges, yet. Chances are they would find evidence of a
person living there, but no body, making the charges remain at arson and resisting arrest.
Fat lot of good it will do me. Probably already have a bus on its way to pick me up and take me to my very own lab, where I get to be the rat...
Gunfire broke into his thoughts, the sounds of semi automatic booms and the high clatter of machine guns bringing him to the bars once more.
I'll be damned! Someone really is attacking the Police Department!
Alex felt a surge of joy tingle through him and was determined to plant a big wet kiss on the person who let him out of his cell. He heard screams, some getting closer as the
gunfire became louder and louder. His thoughts started to drift from the kiss he was going to give, and a certain fear began to settle. Then the voices became clearer and he could
decipher separate comments.
"Oh God they won't die!"
"Hold the line! Don't let them through!"
"They keep coming!"
"Jesus! Where did they all come from!?"
"Fall back! Fall back! Jenkins! I said fall b-"
The command was cut short abruptly by a gurgling scream of agony that was quickly crushed as if the person's throat had been ripped out.
Now Alex was really afraid. He had heard the rumors of what happened during the spill in Raccoon, what it did to the population. They turned into walking corpses, the flesh
rotting off their bones as they feasted on any flesh they could grab. Mister Fat Rat came running down the hall; well he was waddling as fast as his short legs could carry him, his
standard issue nine millimeter drawn and ready. His face was pallid, like he was going to be sick at any given moment but was determined to try and help his fellow officers.
"Hey!" Alex called. "Let me out of here before they kill me too!" His voice was bordering on panic, his chest tightening with the prospect of death. He didn't want to die, always
afraid of his own death. So he wasn't exactly a big hero, big deal, he didn't care. If all life was precious, then so was his own.
The cop reached Alex's cell and stopped, giving the young man a quick glance before unclipping and throwing the keys to the cell. It was his job to protect the people; that was
the oath he had taken when he signed up for the Department, and that was what he was going to do. What the officer didn't know, however, was that one should make sure the
keys had reached their target before running off. The object of Alex's freedom bounced off the bars and skidded back to the hallway.
"Hey Cop!" He shouted. "The keys missed! Guard? Guard!" There was no answer; the fat man was probably dead by now. Alex tried to see around the concrete wall of his cell in
an attempt to see what was going on. It was then that he noticed the silence. He hadn't realized the screams and gunfire has stopped, so focused on the keys and his own selfpreserving
thoughts. Then there was the smell. It was like the time he had left the uneaten pork chop in his mini fridge for three weeks without realizing it. It was the sickly sour
odor of rotten meat, the sharp tang permeating his very skin leaving him feeling unclean and violated.
That doesn't make sense. The cops just died so how could they decompose that...fast...oh crap...
A moan floated down the corridor, echoing faintly off the walls as the cop killers made there way into the detention wing. Another joined it, then another, and another, until there
was a whole chorus of unearthly hungers reaching through the sounds for him. The rumors of the undead were true.
Alex dropped to the hard gray floor and stretched his right arm between the bars. He had to get out of there before they reached him. The key ring lay just beyond his middle
finger, the tip able to feel the cool metal as its reflective surface winked at him. It was teasing him, acting like the woman in a bar who would completely enthrall a man, but never
give in to him, staying just out of his reach until he became a blithering idiot for her. The idiot stretched, his shoulder slipping between the wrought iron and his face pressing
against a bar. His sweaty fingers finally coaxed the keys into their grasp as he heard the slow shuffle of feet making their way down the hallway. Their tortured voices of the
undead growing, always growing and bearing down on him like a physical entity. Bile rose in his throat and his eyes stung with the putrid reek. He swallowed and wrenched his
shoulder free from the pinching bars, falling back on his rump and he scampered back to the wall like a rodent who just stole the Gouda. Alex's right shoulder burned lightly, but
he ignored it. He had the keys. He was going to get out. The now optimistic man opened his palm and looked at the life saving metal pieces. His face fell at the vast assortment of
no less than thirty keys.
Oh shit...
A/N: Thanks to all who reviewed! : )