A Note from the Author: Posting Chapter 2 a little early as a thank you for reading. :)

* I'm still working through how to fix the Spanish punctuations, accents, etc. These did not carry over to the site from my document.

Two grand metal doors open, splitting a crest of beckoning golden hands into two halves that, swinging inward, seem to welcome you inside. A splendid stained glass window glimmers at the front of the church sanctuary and paints colored light across the pews. The heavy stone architecture feels Catholic down to the modest pews and wooden square pulpit. It would truly feel holy if not for the scattered arachnid insignias on banners and the stained glass window itself. Divinity given over to the demonic.

The devout cultists gripping your arms usher you into the Valdelobos church. Tall silver candelabras warm the air in blazing pyramids of light. As you are led down the aisle, black-robed Iluminados worshippers file into the pews. Myriad chants and prayers whisper through the air. It almost seems authentically ceremonial - but the pews are knocked crooked here and there, and muddy footsteps tarnish the red carpet running down the aisle. The sanctuary hasn't been tidied for some time. The worshippers around you raise their hands and chant with fervor, but their bright red eyes stare hollow.

As if the Plagas' complete takeover of Valdelobos left it no more than a puppet show. A farce to fool the unwary into their doom.

A shame you are so very aware of the hell awaiting you at the altar. You dearly enjoyed the story of Resident Evil 4 from the other side of a screen. This real life edition, though, may be game over for you.

The cultists stop you in front of the pulpit and hold you fast. Krauser lumbers over to one side and leans against a pew. An unusually tall figure stalks into the room from a side entrance. You recognize this inelegant silhouette by its thumping gait and wide-brimmed hat - Bitores Mendez, chief and head priest of Valdelobos.

Mendez stands grimly at the front of the church. His monstrous hands, with fingers thick as sausages, grip the corners of the pulpit as if to crumple the whole thing like paper. Beneath his long, haggard beard, his lips open in a snarling smile. "Bienvenidos," he greets. His gravelly voice echoes off of the stonework. "Soldado, we welcome you back as a favored disciple of our Speaker." Mendez nods to Krauser, who watches with impassive determination. "And we welcome the divine servant you have brought us." The chief looks at you beneath the brim of his hat. "I am Bitores Mendez, chief of Valdelobos. I am also high priest in this village," he continues, waving a hand to cultists standing behind him, "and I gave the gift of Las Plagas to my flock. Now I will give to you your blessing as willed by Lord Saddler."

"Come, child," Mendez beckons to you. "It is time to become one with our Lord." The Iluminados push you forward; you struggle against their grip. Mendez takes hold of a second large syringe identical to the first, except that the mass inside the chamber is smaller and ovular in shape. Mendez raises a palm piously towards you. "Now you will be joined with the Holy Body, no longer to walk alone in darkness, but to do its will and share its light with the world."

Your heart races. It's really happening. A Plaga parasite will be injected into your body. The same specimen that wove its way through Ashley Graham's body and sapped away her autonomy, allowing Saddler to control her at will. You have to escape, now. Because the only way to purge a nesting Plaga out of your system is locked down on the island. Once this egg enters your system, you'll be helpless to save yourself.

Now or never.

You raise one foot and kick back at the knee of one of the Iluminados holding you. His leg buckles and in losing his balance he lets go. A sharp laugh cuts the air from Krauser nearby. You swing your foot up and crash your boot into the stomach of the other cultist. He staggers back. The zip ties around your wrists cut into your skin, but you barely feel it. Adrenaline pushes you on. You break away and turn to run.

Massive pain erupts on your scalp, and your head whips back. Thick fingers crush into your hair and pull up - your feet lift off of the ground. With your wrists bound, you can't fight back, but can only look at Mendez as he holds you aloft with one arm. Snapping sounds pop in your ears with strands of hair ripping out of your crown. Your eyes water.

Mendez glares, enraged. The semblance of ceremony shatters. He snarls, "Sacrilege! Lord Saddler chose you! Las Plagas shall purge you of your insolence!" His other hand grabs the back of your neck - your vision rattles with the force. Mendez holds you fast.

"No," you shriek, " please-"

"By the will of our Lord-"

" Let me go!"

"-This holy gift comes unto you-"

" Nooo!"

"!Gloria a Las Plagas!"

A sharp jab pinches into your neck. The needle slides under your skin with no resistance; the ease of its entry feels violating - you don't want this. The pinch magnifies into pain as the needle digs deep, finds its mark. You hear a loud click by your ear. The trigger was pulled to dispense the egg. You feel something like a bubble popping just under your skin at the injection site. A slithering chill courses down your arms and legs. Mendez's grip tightens, his lips purse into a thin line. His red eyes watch the base of your neck for a horrible interminable moment.

Suddenly he lets you go. You drop hard onto your knees and crumple, your shoulders hitting the floor. It's over. It's inside you. A Plaga egg incubates in your bloodstream, feeding off of you to soon hatch a tiny arachnid-like organism that will grow and puppeteer your body in submission to the master of its hive mind. Adrenaline drains out of your system, replaced by numbness.

"Take her," commands Mendez. "Take this child into the village. Prepare a room for her to stay and await the Lord's calling. See that they are fed and watered. Las Plagas must grow and flourish. Go and shelter this servant until Lord Saddler summons us again."

As footsteps approach from behind, a pair of black boots scuffs into view in front of you. One of them swings to nudge your ribs, roll you onto your back - looking up at Jack Krauser.

He shakes his head, a sneer twisting the long scar crossing his lips. "Guess you didn't listen." Krauser crouches, the leather of his boots squeaking softly, and he peers down at you. "We're not going to be stopped now. It's set in motion. Quit fighting back, and this'll go much easier for you."

He rises and steps out of your view. You try to sit up, but Iluminados surround you and start grabbing at your arms, hauling you up. You hear Krauser speak to someone: "I'm going to the Sanctuary. I'll report to Lord Saddler that the first phase is underway." His tone rises with a commanding charge. "Keep the girl under guard. She'll look for a chance to escape."

An affirmative yet begrudging growl rumbles from Chief Mendez.

Some half-dozen zealots push and pull you to your feet and out of the church. Outside, the air is crisp and the sun shines overhead. A dog barks in the distance. It's almost an idyllic pastoral atmosphere. The procession marches you down the hill along the courtyard and past familiar gothic gravestones. Many of them display the same arachnid insignia. You imagine Leon charging up this path, shotgun in hand, flanked by torchlight, determined to storm the church and rescue…

…Who? You won't be there. Even if Leon exists in this reality and searches through Valdelobos, you won't be waiting where he found Ashley Graham.

Tears roll down your face and drip from your chin. You let them fall. Ahead, the Iluminados open a back door into the squat community center. Immediately a strong smell hits you - musty air, old paper, and rotten flesh. An overwhelming rancid, rotting odor. Alarms trigger in your brain and you feel an urge to leave; this smell screams death. The Iluminados push and nudge you to step inside to a dusty, dark room in which sits a long table scattered with curios and papers. Burning candles stacked together on the floor in the corners and next to random furniture melt wax unchecked into transparent puddles. Turning a corner, you find the source of the rotten odor. Skulls wrapped in cloth line a shelf along the back wall. Among them looms the juvenile Gigante skull with its jaw cracked open. The only one of its generation to reach that size; but you know that several grown specimens lurk in this territory. The flickering candlelight throughout the room dances in myriad unseeing eye sockets. Passing through this room, a portrait of Osmund Saddler appears on your right. "Tenemos que servirle," "Escuchamos y obedecemos," whisper the Iluminados around you.

You come to another door, which opens to the heart of the village. You play back your game-based memory of this place as quickly as you can: From your location at the doorstep to the community center, one could travel right to the farming compound, left to Mendez's home, or straight ahead to the road leading out of Valdelobos. You look ahead towards that large gate. A crow pecks at a dismembered head impaled atop it. Beyond that gate could be your only way to escape this place. Even now that you're infected, surely you would be able to get help somewhere?

Or at least you could lose your mind quietly in the woods. One thing is for sure: You've had enough of the Iluminados' torturous rituals.

Your escorts approach a one-story house and one of them rattles a set of keys, motioning to you. A gruff man with expressionless red eyes grabs your elbow and walks you towards the door, and presumably to your prison. But your mind is still poring over your mental map of the area.

Yes, you think, you have to try to get out of the village.

The guard passes your window for the eighth time. Since you first noticed a pattern, you've been keeping count. The Iluminados locked you in the ground floor bedroom of a small house in the village. The simple wooden furnishings make for a cozy enough cell: A narrow bed, a table, a set of shelves. You've been able to do a bit of investigating since they stationed a guard outside your building, removed your zipties and gestured for you to eat food brought at Mendez's command. Once left alone, you opened every drawer and door within sight, hoping to find anything with which to fashion an escape. All that turned up was a potted red herb which you set out on the table. A plant needs sunlight, after all. And maybe this plant has the same alchemical properties as its fictional iteration. Best not to leave it to wither in the dark.

You've started to contemplate eating the mysterious plant, given that the provisions provided are less than adequate: A metal bucket holding water reeking of livestock spittle, and a moldy heel of bread. Nothing you can force yourself to try to swallow even with an empty stomach. You remember that in the game, all of the food in the village was long since abandoned and gone putrid. The ganados don't seem to prepare or consume fresh meals. Come to think of it, you don't remember seeing a ganado in the game so much as try to take a bite out of another creature, including Leon. So they aren't zombies, but neither do they eat normal food. You'd pondered this for a while before you noticed the same man shuffle past your window for the umpteenth time with a pitchfork in hand. Then your hunger took a backseat to planning an escape.

Now that you know there is a regular patrol, you need to find its vulnerabilities. Starting with this window - It has no lock, but when you push up it sticks and makes a loud enough scraping sound. So you need to time very carefully when and how far you open it. Because the only door to this room is locked, the window is your next option for an exit. You'd looked behind the furniture and flipped over a rug - no secret entrances or trap doors here. So the window is your best bet. And time is very much of the essence.

The guard completes his lap and stands in front of your window, his back to you, pitchfork held aloft. You watch for activity around him. No one else comes into view and your window faces another building across a narrow muddy path. This isn't a busy part of the village center - a promising sign for your escape. The sentry will be here for a little while, so you decide to take this chance to have another look around the room for anything useful.

You revisit the bedside table's drawer and cabinet space. But the only noteworthy item is a battered Catholic Bible which has script carved into the cover:

PURGA LAS MENTIRAS

ENTRGATE A LAS PLAGAS

You can't determine what the script means, but you notice old blood dried on the cover. Nausea quivers in the back of your throat as you gingerly pick up the desecrated book. Stab marks and bloodstains mar its pages. You peel open the Bible, pages glued together with gore - a small knife falls out. You figure that one of the villagers carved up their former faith while converting to Los Iluminados. And added a little self-mutilation in a show of devotion to their new god.

You grab the knife. The short, thick blade looks worn and the tip has been rounded down from repeated stabbing; but this is better than nothing. You slip it through an empty belt loop on your pants. Looking at the window, the guard still stands just outside facing away from you, shifting his weight back and forth on his heels. You creep forward, trying not to make enough sound to draw his attention. He lingers at his post for another several minutes before he lopes away to patrol around the building. Your adrenaline ramps up with anticipation, reminding yourself of what the sentry should do next, telling yourself that now is the time to act. The sun is on its descent but still hangs high in the sky. If you can escape now, you still have hours of daylight to find your way out of the village and get to somewhere safe.

This is your chance. First you count his footsteps: One, two, three, four, five, six - And then he is around the corner. Like clockwork. You hustle to the window, grab the base and push upward - it takes some effort before the warping wood unsticks enough to move. The window scrapes up and you stop immediately with it barely ajar, listening for any reaction to the noise. No one comes. You slide your fingertips under the bottom of the window and feign pushing up on it, testing its give, making sure it's now loose enough to force wide open in one movement. The window feels more responsive. You think this might work. You have to try.

Footsteps approach in a muffled tempo, a shuffling, steady gait you recognize. The guard is rounding the building to return to his post at your window. Your heart leaps into your throat; you're counting on him not noticing that the window is just barely ajar. If he sees it and realizes you are trying to escape - Well, you didn't come up with a backup plan. You spring away from the window and sit on the nearby bed. The straw mattress crunches, dust plumes into the air. It makes you sneeze. A pitchfork swings into view on the other side of the window. The guard grunts, "Eh?" He peers into the room. You hold your breath. Give him a slight, nervous wave. Slowly pull your shirt down further over the hidden knife. The ganado peers at you with his mouth partly open. His glassy red eyes stare vacantly. "Debemos obedecer," he grumbles, and turns around. "Protege a la mujer…" He stands still at his post. You exhale in a slow, relieved sigh, keeping your eyes on the ganado. He hasn't noticed the ajar window and he doesn't seem suspicious. Maybe your plan will work after all; you just need to wait for him to start his next patrol.

You ease off of the bed and take calculated, slow steps towards the window. Trying not to make noise. It's a difficult task in the short-heeled boots you'd worn to work not so long ago. You crouch by the window and wait for the ganado to move. When he does, you count the footsteps.

One, two, three: You slide your fingers under the base of the window.

Four, five: Your fingers grip around the bottom of the window and you plant your feet, bracing your legs.

Six: You push up through your legs with as much force as you can muster. The window jerks open. You throw yourself outside and scramble around the back of the building. A villager labors at the far end of this path next to a barn, loading something into a wheelbarrow. Her back faces you. Crates stacked against a wall provide an immediate place for you to hide. You dive behind them. You feel for the knife - still there, hooked into your belt loop. Breathing fast and frightened, you listen for nearby ganados.

Your closest exit is by the gate to Bitores Mendez's compound. The tall gates leading out of the village are too far away, you think. It's quicker to get out of this area and out of sight if you can sneak to the end of this path and scramble up one of the low rock walls into the forest. But the villager by the barn would see you running past her. You need a distraction.

Looking around your cramped hiding place, you find a rock the size of an apple. It'll have to work. You grab it in a tight fist. Daring to peek out, you see the villager still turned away from you. She picks up both handles of the wheelbarrow and rolls it through the barn, oblivious to you. Okay, so now you don't need to distract her. A twinge of hope lifts your spirits. You may be able to make it. You jump out from behind the crates.

And barrel straight into your guard as he rounds the corner of the building. He grunts with surprise. "Que-"

You smash the rock into his mouth. Several teeth cave in. The ganado gurgles, blood and spittle ooze down his chin. You grab the knife from your hip and jab it forward, desperate. He can't have a chance to alert anyone. The blade drives into his torso under his right shoulder. The ganado staggers away from you with the knife stuck in his body. He spits out the rock and a front tooth. You push past him and run.

"!La mujer!" he yells, slurring through a bloody and broken mouth.

Fast as you can, you dash down the path, gunning for the wall at the border of the village. It looks climbable. You'll just have to do it. Thudding in the distance alerts you to approaching ganados; the village has been roused to your escape. You get to the end of the path and dart around a house close adjacent to the gate to the Mendez compound. Just as you remember from the game, a hand-built stone wall abuts a dense forest. You grab at it and push yourself upward.

"!All esta!"

"!Capturala!"

They've seen you. Your window to safety is closing rapidly. You dig in with your fingers and haul yourself up the wall, your fingertips scraping between the hand-stacked stones. It's a short but difficult climb. You reach the top, pushing yourself up and rolling across it before scrambling to your feet. You sprint into the woods and try to block out the distant yelling behind you. Something metallic thuds overhead - a sickle embeds into a nearby tree.

You keep running. Sunlight filters through the forest expanse ahead, beckoning you to freedom. The voices from the village fade to a quiet echo. You reach a large tree and stop, leaning against it, your chest burning with fatigue.

A click sounds to your left. You turn your head; the barrel of a Red 9 revolver aims between your eyes. But immediately the owner whips it back.

"Dos mio, what are you doing here?"