Chapter Seven: Death On Two Legs
As soon as Tony heard the familiar heavy stomps, and watched alongside Claire as the massive coated figure shoved the tail end of the crashed helicopter aside like it didn't weigh over a thousand pounds, the man in red instantly knew: this was Ben's killer. His icy eyes flickered, looking down towards the clenched fist at its side, spotting the familiar dark glove with the metal crisscrossing over the back of the palm - vaguely reminding him of the letter 'X' - before shooting up, meeting the fiery molten gaze of the creature's barely visible eyes.
The tall, imposing dreadnought shoved the grounded aircraft completely aside, sending it skidding over the wet helipad in a trail of sudden sparks and screeching metal. Never letting its gaze waver, the cloaked giant resumed its heavy stride, the heavy footsteps issuing loud *booms* with each stomp, the distance between itself and the couple across from it closing swiftly.
Mimicking its motions and taking two steps forward as it did, Tony's arms moved so fast they were crimson blurs, the Remington over his shoulder and in his hands in the fraction of a second it took to blink.
Pumping the gauge to wrack a fresh shell, the gunslinger pulled the trigger, the thunderous blast only slightly louder than the striding behemoth's stomps. The crack of buckshot struck the wide chest of the creature's buttoned coat front head-on, the massive form having literally walked directly into the oncoming shot, which could shred open a man of similar size's abdomen in a spray of blood, flesh, and metal, the force of the impact from such proximity more than enough to send them flying off their feet. The small pellets simply struck the front of the dark leather, turning it darker from the singe of the burst, and rolled off, hitting the floor, and getting crushed by the juggernaut's next step, the creature and its coat completely unharmed.
Eyes widening, the bewildered gunman uttered a single word in a sharp exclamation.
"RUN!"
Behind him, Claire took a shaking step backwards and to her right, practically collapsing against the door they came through, pushing it ajar. But the cloaked giant was already closing the shrinking gap between itself and the two much-smaller youths. Just as she managed to get a single foot over the door's threshold, the figure's right arm was rearing back, one massive gloved hand closing into a tight fist the size of a person's head, swinging out hard enough to make the air whistle-
-and Tony ducked and dashed under the heavy punch, colliding with the girl, and sending them both tumbling out onto the rain-soaked asphalt.
Recovering and pulling himself up as his left hand snatched his girlfriend's upper arm to hoist her back to her feet, simultaneously shoving her away, he sharply ordered, "Go! Find cover!"
As much as the red-clad mercenary wanted to make sure the clearly-terrified college girl could get somewhere further away from this unstoppable goliath, the unfortunate truth was that the dark-coated colossus had already followed them outside, ducking under the smaller door frame before rising back up to its full height. Its dark eyes found his icy blue orbs once more as the pale-haired gunman backed away, pumping another fresh shell into the shotgun before raising the rifle higher, and squeezing the trigger, this time hoping the close-range buckshot would shred its ugly face apart.
At the exact same second Tony's finger pulled down on the trigger, the giant's gloved hand shot out, its enormous palm absorbing almost the entire blast, the thunderous shot muffled by its fingers and palm as it snatched for the gun. The mercenary in red yanked the firing arm out of its reach, skidding back across the helipad, and ducking behind the wrecked copter's tail as he slung the weapon back over his shoulder, his mind racing as he weighed his options. What few he had.
The Remington didn't even faze him?! His coat's gotta be made outta some reinforced Kevlar. That's the only thing that could stop two twelve-gauge shots. But this guy didn't even flinch from those blasts, and they were practically point-blank! his mind raged as his hands whipped out the Colt and Beretta from under his coat. They packed less of a punch than the shotgun, but he could squeeze off more rounds with them. And the only part of the freak not covered by that coat was its face.
"A few rounds to the face oughta do wonders for your ugly mug!" he hissed under his breath before thrusting his arms out, arms criss-crossing over each other as he fired both handguns rapidly, the semi-auto fire spitting out almost as fast as a machine gun.
The barrage of *pop-pops* accompanied the drops of ejected, stainless steel casings, each bullet aiming for the creature's warped face. It actually stopped before thrusting the crook of its left arm over its head, the heavier .45 rounds ricocheting off the material covering its arm, while the hollow-points from the Beretta simply flattened on contact and fell away, soft *pings* issuing with each shot.
Under his breath, Tony cursed. Greeeaaat, it's as smart as it is ugly...
Whatever that coat was made out of, none of his weapons seemed able to penetrate it. And while he hadn't tried the Desert Eagle yet, the young man was willing to bet it wouldn't be anymore effective if this monster could ignore two shotgun blasts at point-blank range. The Colt and Beretta clicked dry, none of the shots having found their mark. And as the towering golem lowered its arm away from its face, Redgrave back-peddled away from it. The more distance between himself and its fists, the better, he thought. The snowy-haired youth shoved his handguns back into their holsters, his left arm falling to his side while his right reached for the hilt of his broadsword.
Where guns failed him, Woozy always seemed to succeed. And while he knew the blade wasn't forged from average steel, he had to have faith it could cut through whatever that material the giant was wrapped in was made out of. The creature's burning eyes stayed on him for a second, following his every step and the motion of his arm moving, before its gaze flickered towards the crumpled tail of the ruined copter sprawled across the heliport. It then extended its right gloved hand out, grasping the bent end of the tail hard enough to crush the metal into a thin line.
Claire, who had been watching on the sidelines near the stairs leading down into the alleyway below the helipad, widened her eyes as soon as she saw the coated fiend clutch the end of the downed helicopter, understanding flashing through her panic-filled, grey-blue eyes in an instant.
"TONY, LOOK OUT!"
The mercenary in red's head snapped up at the sound of the woman's panicked scream just in time to watch the giant drag the crashed bird by its tail, metal screeching and sparks flying as the wrecked chopper was flung at him like a two-ton softball.
Icy eyes widening, Tony hissed out a curse of "Shit!" before quickly diving to the side, tucking his body into a ball to roll across the rain-soaked asphalt, narrowly dodging the oncoming copter by the tail of his coat. The impromptu projectile slammed into the broken section of the wall it had crashed through, this time longways, coming to a harsh halt in a splash of rainwater and a crumble of bricks.
The swordsman came to a stop at a crouch, his right hand shooting over his shoulder for the hilt of his weapon when his gaze snapped forward at the sound of pounding boot stomps, two tree-trunk thick legs appearing right in front of him. The young man's head shot up, eyes widening a second time as he saw the cloaked freak raising both its arms over its head, hands clenched together. The mercenary back-flipped and hand-sprung away just as the towering beast swung its hands down, its fists smashing the asphalt and cement where he had been crouching a second prior, leaving a crater almost as wide as its torso. Meanwhile, the swordmaster landed back on his feet, Woozy drawn out and leveled in front of himself, before charging out in a red blur as he thrust the weapon out in a sudden Stinger, aiming for the creature's stomach, hoping to run the beast through in a single stroke.
Just as his greatsword's barbed tip was about to connect with the front of its coat, one of the giant's massive gloved hands slapped out, striking the blade hard enough to make the metal reverberate, a sharp ringing sound issuing out, and deflecting the blow entirely. The strength of the blow nearly sent the weapon flying out of Tony's hand, the man's grip managing to hold as his arm was nearly torn from its socket, struggling to maintain his grasp as the broadsword was struck back-
-leaving the youth himself completely exposed for the monster's follow up. Its massive fist buried itself into his gut, with a sickening *CRUNCH* issuing out. His mouth dropped open, a gout of blood flying out before he was launched off his feet, and came back down a second later, crashing on top of a nearby bench, shattering it into chunks of wood and metal. The platinum-haired mercenary struggled to push himself back up, swallowing back a scream of pain as he felt several shattered ribs grinding agonizingly over his chest.
The towering juggernaut observed the struggling man for a moment before resuming its heavy stride towards him, fists tightening at its side when a voice screamed from behind it.
"HEY!"
Accompanying the cry was several loud shots, each bullet striking it across the back, only to flatten on contact with its coat, and falling away uselessly. The noise made the behemoth pause, glancing over its shoulder towards the origin of the gunfire.
Standing a good twenty feet away from the giant was Claire Redfield, her small revolver drawn and smoking, her expression one of frightened fury after having watched it literally swat Tony aside with barely any effort. And while she was utterly terrified of what it could do to her, she wasn't about to stand idly by and let her boyfriend die.
The imposing figure observed her silently, before beginning to stalk towards her at a slower pace compared to its earlier charge towards her partner. Backing up whilst shoving her pistol back into its holster, the young woman grabbed the sub-machine gun hanging by her left hip and drew it out, her finger squeezing down on the trigger. Dozens of *tatatatatas* began issuing from the long barrel, the machine pistol threatening to go flying from the girl's tenuous grip. The multitude of machine gun bullets slammed into the giant's coated chest, the smaller rounds bouncing off as uselessly as everything else the duo had already thrown at it.
Panicking, the younger Redfield backed up, still firing, her mind racing, grasping at anything when it suddenly hit her that neither she nor Tony had managed to land a shot on its face yet. The crimson-coated man's earlier handgun fire had been blocked by the dreadnought's arm, but Claire was willing to bet that the machine gun's rate of fire could hit it before it had a chance to try and block the shots. Struggling to maintain her grip on the MQ 11, the pink-vested biker angled the weapon higher, the bullets striking the coat ricocheting away before a few finally hit its face, small holes appearing on its neck and cheek, thin lines of dark ichor pouring out of the holes along with small puffs of smoke.
Claire felt what seemed like a surge of hope welling in her chest when the steady *tatatas* of the machine gun were suddenly silenced with a dry *click.* Eyes widening, the auburn-haired woman looked from the gun back up towards the still-approaching brute... and felt her earlier hope fade away as the small holes closed, what little damage - if any - she had inflicted gone entirely. Not even thinking to reload, all the shaking, panicking young student could think to do was back away from her approaching death.
Across the helipad, Tony was pushing himself back onto his hands and knees, hacking blood, and flinching as he felt his ribs snap back into place. His pain momentarily blossomed into almost unbearable agony before it subsided into a more manageable dull throb. Using Woozy to prop himself back onto his feet, the battered mercenary gasped and huffed for breath, thin lines of blood running down his jaw as he turned to look over his shoulder for that freak in black that had thrown him like a ragdoll-
The bruised-up youth's eyes flared when he spotted the giant stalking towards Claire, looming over her as she backed away in obvious terror. Screaming out in fury, he charged for the monster, his broadsword dragging low behind him, trailing sparks in its wake. The enraged swordsman reached the imposing creature in seconds, swinging his sword up as he cleared the distance in a heartbeat.
The blade cut into the beast's back, finally managing to pierce through the bulletproof coat it was wrapped in. The colossus stumbled, dark blood splashing onto the asphalt before it whirled around, its burning eyes flashing like hellfire as it backhanded the boy across his handsome face, sending him soaring through the air a second time, only to crash into the wall by the door, the bricks on it smashing into rubble and dust as he collapsed onto the ground with a heavy *thump* and a splash.
The towering behemoth steadied itself before hearing sudden rapid steps from behind it. The creature craned its head over its shoulder, and saw that the woman it had been approaching was gone. Hearing more steps behind it once again, it returned its gaze forward, seeing the pink-vested woman crouching by the red-coated man, a long grey tube held in both hands, her furious grey-blue eyes glaring defiantly back at the impassive monster as she squeezed the trigger of the grenade launcher Tony had given her hours ago.
A soft *fwp* sound issued, air rushing as the projectile flew threw the air, and struck the giant dead center on its chest-
BOOM!*
An explosion of fire erupted around the behemoth, consuming it in intense, bright orange and yellow flames that evaporated the still falling raindrops around the monster, issuing hissing steam through the cold air.
Claire whirled around as the blast erupted, slinging the launcher back over her shoulder, before grabbing her companion's right upper arm, pulling at the barely-conscious youth with all her strength, trying to drag him back onto his feet.
"Tony, we have to go! We have to go now!"
The girl's words came rushed out in a single breath, finally managing to raise her peer up a few inches as he joined her struggle, pushing himself back up onto shaky feet, the tip of his barbed sword dragging across the wet asphalt as he used it to brace himself. Blood was running down his jaw, his ice blue eyes narrowed in obvious pain as he groaned and hacked for breath.
As he stumbled back into a mostly upright position, the mercenary choked out, "Not... running away... again...!"
The young woman chanced a glance over her shoulder, her eyes unable to grow any wider when she saw the flames had fallen away... revealing that, aside from a few chars darkening a spot or two on its coat, the creature was completely unharmed from the grenade blast. Steam and smoke wafted around its shadowed face, obscuring its hideous features momentarily, but failing to hide the dark glow of its burning eyes. Almost casually, their pursuer simply brushed a spot of embers off its chest with its gloved fingers.
Rounding back to face her stubborn boyfriend, her heart pounding with terror-laced adrenaline, Claire looked from his strained expression to the open door back into the damaged hallway.
Looking back up at the boy's bloodied face, the panicking young woman snapped, "If you try to fight this thing, you'll die! We need to go, Anthony! Sherry needs us! I need you!"
At that admission, Tony met her gaze briefly... before looking back at the coated behemoth with a contempt-filled glare.
Standing to his full height, the snowy-haired man slung his sword back over his shoulder, before snapping his eyes back to his girlfriend with a sigh. "Hate it when you call me by my first name... Go. I'll cover you, and then I'll be right behind you."
With an unsure nod, Claire sprinted through the door, her boots flying over the floor as she raced down the short corridor, hit a sharp turn, dashed over the rubble, and flew left. Behind her, Tony's hands flew under his coat, whipping out his Beretta and Colt, the handguns reloaded in the blink of an eye, and spitting lead before long. As before, the bullets simply crumpled on contact with the titan's coat, and it stalked forward into the line of fire, massive feet stomping down hard enough to leave cracks, its fiery gaze locked on the gunman in red.
Spitting a curse, he shoved his guns back into their holsters, and made a long dash through the open doorway, repeating the motion twice more to arrive at the turn in the corridor junction. Rather than turn, he leapt at the wall, kick-jumping off of it to use the momentum to vault himself clear over the rumble littering the broken hallway, landing with a heavy *thump,* and kick up of dust. All the while, Redgrave heard wood crashing and shattering behind him, before even louder footfalls began issuing, the distance between himself and the creature closing fast.
As he raced down the hall, spotting a flash of pink rounding the right turn - confirming Claire was safely ahead of him - the red-clad mercenary felt fury bubbling in his aching gut, his broken and nearly shattered ribs healing, knitting his flesh, but not his pride.
The rational and sane portion of his mind reminded him that nothing he nor Claire had thrown at the monster had left more than a scratch on it, and the thing packed more strength than any of the other ghouls he had encountered so far. Even if he didn't have his girlfriend to worry about, there was no guarantee he would have found a way to really hurt it, much less kill it. The darker portion of himself, however - the side he often found riled up in the midst of a good fight, or a tense shoot-out - was screaming at him, roaring like a furious animal denied its kill, enraged over his constant hit-and-run tactics since arriving in Raccoon City.
It wanted blood. It wanted a challenge. And that hat-wearing freak offered one. A battle where death was the only outcome for man or monster.
Tony struggled to ignore that side of himself, sprinting down the long hallway just a few steps behind the young woman, who rushed around the final right turn-
-when the merc heard her let out a frustrated scream of "Shit!"
Rounding the corner after her, skidding to a halt on his slick boots, Tony saw the source of her anger. A solid steel shutter was lowered, blocking the only way to Irons's office, where the private elevator to the parking garage lay beyond. Claire spun around to face him, her mouth opening to say something, but the only thing the scarlet gunslinger could hear was the booming stomps of their pursuer behind them growing louder and closer by the second.
Moving past her, the frantic young man crouched down, his hands gripping the bottom of the shutter. With a harsh heave that sent flares of agony through his knitting chest, the mercenary shoved the shutter up to the half-way point, the loud sound of crumbling mortar and squealing, struggling metal rising over the increasing tempo of the behemoth's stomps behind them.
Claire watched Tony as he raised the shutter in a kind of stunned stupor, prompting the taller man to snap, "Go!"
Breaking out of her reverie, a small voice in the back of her head asked how Tony Redgrave had lifted a locked shutter gate up with the of strength a man who had probably received a broken rib or two from that monster's punches. Claire, however, ignored it for the time being, focusing instead on the rapidly-closing stomps not much further behind them. With a tuck and a roll, she scrambled under the shutter gate, her partner following after her with a quick duck, before slamming the solid sheet of steel back down with his boot, separating themselves from the advancing monster.
They both backed away, the young man raising one arm protectively in front of his girlfriend as the only-partially muffled boot stomps arrived at the barrier and ceased.
For a moment, silence... save for heavy gasps of breath from the young couple...
Then a hideous, scraping *SCREEECH* issued from the shutter, as a gloved fist burst through the sheet, a second hand joining it to begin peeling the ragged hole the first had formed into a much wider gap, the steel sheet crumpling away like paper. Claire watched in fascinated horror while Tony began pushing her back towards Irons's office door, his own eyes locked on the hands and growing hole with trepidation.
"That's not gonna hold...!" he hissed aloud, the collegiate girl internally agreeing as she and the taller male quickly spun around, and raced for the door to the police chief's office.
Claire shoved it open, scrambling inside. Tony was directly behind her, pushing her further in. As she dashed for the open passageway behind Irons's desk, the merc grabbed one of the display cases next to the doorway and tipped it over, sending expensive pottery shattering onto the wooden floor. The wooden case offered another slight barrier for the creature. One that couldn't possibly slow it down like the shutter had, but maybe buy them the precious few seconds they'd need to escape it.
As he hurriedly raced after her, that small voice in the back of the young woman's mind once again asked how a supposedly badly-injured man could have accomplished such a feat after the one prior. And while she wanted to chalk it up to adrenaline, the small voice wasn't convinced. The biker girl didn't have long to dwell on her internal thoughts, however, as her red-coated beau quickly dashed towards her, snatching her by her elbow, and pulling her along.
The two were already well past Irons's desk and through the stone corridor when they heard wood shattering behind them.
Scrambling outside through the rain towards Irons's elevator, Claire frantically pressed the button, willing the gates to open faster when she felt the grenade launcher yanked off her shoulder with enough force to snap the belt used as a strap for it. As the elevator gate clanked open, Redfield whipped her head around to look over her shoulder, seeing Tony breaking the launcher's tube open, and shoving a fresh grenade in before taking aim. Just as she heard the familiar pounding footsteps, and spotted a heavy shadow looming in the open passageway.
Before she could shout a warning as the coated giant's massive form began to emerge, her boyfriend had fired the launcher. The round sang through the air-
-and struck the upper portion of the passage. The blast was as loud as the one before, but produced greater destruction. Burning brick and mortar fell atop the creature, forcing it to its knees as heavy stones rained down on it, its fedora falling away, and rolling across the wet ground. In moments, the dreadnought was buried in a heavy rumble of stone, kicking up wet dust and smoke.
With held breaths from both man and woman, they waited for a moment that stretched for eternity...
...No movement, save the falling rain and shifting pebbles rolling down the larger rubble...
Walking backwards, not taking his cool blue eyes off of the still stone pile, Tony ushered Claire back into the elevator cart, handing her back the grenade launcher after reloading it again, as well as securing the strap once more. A quick mental count by the young woman told her they had two rounds for it left. The swordsman grabbed the gate, and slammed it closed, punching down the button.
"Let's hope that holds it off long enough for us to find Sherry, and clear on outta here," he breathed out, still tensed and at the ready, keeping his glare on the immobilized giant.
Wordlessly, Claire nodded, finding herself also unable to tear her own eyes away from the pile of burning rock and mortar until the elevator cart had descended entirely.
Tony was right, though. Even if it wasn't dead, hopefully it would be stunned long enough for them to escape, and lose their trail outside of the station. Shouldering the grenade launcher and inhaling a deep breath, the young woman willed her racing heart and rattled nerves to settle down...
All while trying to ignore a strange trepidation building in her stomach...
As the elevator descended completely, the rubble suddenly shifted, larger pieces of stone and mortar falling away.
Heavy stomps crushed unlucky pieces into smaller fragments.
Silently, gloved fingers reached down for the dusty, discarded fedora...
As soon as the elevator cart completed its descent, and the gate pulled open with a cheery *ding,* Redfield and Redgrave were racing out into and through the narrow hallway. Claire was a step ahead, while Tony's hands dug through his coat pockets, producing the key card just as they darted out of the open door, arriving back in the parking deck. Ascending the small set of steps, the girl drew her revolver while giving the dead body of a badly-rotten dog with a gaping bullet hole in its skull a spare glance, before looking back at her partner as he slipped the card into the parking gate's slot. A gentle *bing* later, and the red light was now a glowing green, the gate shuddering once before it began to ascend.
Looking back to to the pink-vested woman as he drew his shotgun and began to reload it, Tony asked, "Where'd that filthy bastard take Sherry?"
"To some orphanage close by. Stingy asshole didn't even bother to give me directions," she replied, recalling her unpleasant phone call with Irons not too long ago.
That prompted a disgusted scoff from the brash young man, who finished reloading his Remington, and slung it back over his shoulder next to his sword. He then drew his Beretta, ejecting the spent clip before slapping in a new one, then chambering a round, and finally holstering it. He then repeated the process with his Colt before speaking again.
"We'll have to stick to the back alleys, then. Move through the streets only when we don't have a choice. We'll need to be quick, though. It's probably still pretty bad out there."
Claire nodded... and for a small moment, found herself contemplating telling Tony of her encounter with the bandaged stranger, Gilver.
She had so many questions. And the longer she stared at him, the more she had.
He had just taken the worse beating she had ever seen anyone be on the unfortunate end of... And yet, there he was. Standing calmly, and with no indication he was experiencing any discomfort at all, when earlier she had to help him back up to his feet. But even that had only been for a brief moment, the young man seemingly shrugging the damage off before running after her, and performing feats he shouldn't have been able to pull off so quickly. The parking deck was shrouded in shadows, the lighting poor, but aside from a spot or two of dried blood on his face, she was sure there wasn't even so much as a bruise on him.
Just as the younger Redfield felt she had gathered her nerve and opened her mouth, unsure of what exactly she was going to ask her boyfriend, but desperate to understand Gilver's mysterious warnings from earlier-
-a loud *CRASH* broke the brief reverie, making the duo whirl around towards where it had originated from. Claire's eyes widened with disbelief as she instantly realized the origin of the sound came from the same hallway she and Tony had come from only moments ago-
-and stomping towards them was their monstrous pursuer, its dark overcoat covered in dust and soot, its black and red eyes locked on them, and its gloved fists clenched tightly at its sides.
No sooner had the girl spotted the creature did Tony snatch her upper arm, and shove her towards the still-rising gate, pushing her under it with a cry of "Get out of here!"
The redhead stumbled under the gate, watching in bewilderment as he drew his sword out. But before she could even open her mouth to protest, the swordmaster snapped at her without even looking away from the approaching fiend. "Sherry needs one of us to save her, so don't even think about arguing with me! GO!"
With that final shout, the young mercenary charged forward, his blade thrust out like a scorpion's stinger ready to strike. And all she could think to do was numbly stumble away a few steps before turning around, beginning to run as fast as she could up the small slope. Claire's mind raced as she grasped for an inkling of where to begin to look for the orphanage. Behind her, she heard swinging metal striking once, twice, three strokes of a blade-
-followed by a pained shout, and a loud *CRASH* of something being flung hard into one of the parked cruisers, metal crumpling, glass shattering on impact, and another choked cry of pain sounding out. On instinct, the young woman stopped and spun around, eyes wide with dread for Tony-
-and saw the coated monster was moving after her, ducking under the almost completely risen gate to begin its relentless pursuit for her now, its burning eyes meeting her terrified grey-blue orbs. She found herself frozen in place, the creature closing the distance with two long strides, its massive form looming over her much smaller form.
Its right arm extended out, gloved fingers reaching out for her neck-
"CLAIRE, DOWN!"
Tony's sudden shout broke her from her terrified fugue, and the biker girl dove forward, just barely escaping the closing fingers of the towering giant's grasp-
-and no sooner had she struck the asphalt did the loudest gunshot she had ever heard roar through the air, bellowing like a cannon. A split-second later, the younger Redfield heard metal ricochet and glass shatter, while the massive monster suddenly stopped in its tracks.
For a brief moment, Claire dared to believe whatever had made that noise had finally somehow stopped the creature... But when she chanced a glance back up, her eyes widened, before blinking as she saw the giant's fedora on the ground...
A massive, smoking hole was on the crown, the hat's top almost completely gone.
From behind the beast, her boyfriend's voice called out. "Aww, ain't that a kick in the ass?!"
Peeking behind the behemoth, Claire spotted Tony standing by the open gate, balancing the massive handgun he had taken from the S.T.A.R.S. Office on his right shoulder, his familiar, arrogant grin and mocking, icy eyes locked on the dark behemoth.
"That was a nice hat and all, but take it from me, baldy. Fedoras are never comin' back in style."
The giant looked from the girl to its ruined hat, the hand that had reached for her neck suddenly running over its bald, scarred dome...
Suddenly, it whirled around to face Tony again, moving so much faster than before, she could actually detect an undeniable trace of real anger in its body-language.
Who knew a monster could get so attached to a hat?... her mind babbled, the young woman resisting the urge to let out a terrified giggle.
The golem stood still for a single moment, before charging at the gunslinger, its boots stomping down hard enough to make the idling cruiser shake in place.
Seeing this, his smirk now becoming a full-blown sneer, Redgrave crouched slightly, wagging both hands while challenging, "Come and get me!"
If Claire didn't know any better, her boyfriend seemed eerily excited to confront what was undoubtedly imminent death. But she had to trust that he knew what he was doing. Pushing herself back up to her heels, the young woman knew this was her only chance to escape and find the orphanage. And while part of her wanted to stay behind and try to help Tony in some way, she still had to save Sherry from Irons.
She was the only one who could, at this point.
"Hang on, Sherry..." Claire whispered as she raced off into the rainy street, ignoring the sounds of Tony's sword swinging through the air.
One hour earlier...
"The orphanage? Where's that?"
"In the neighborhood," Irons snapped. "You'll find it."
His beady eyes were narrowed in a contempt-filled glare as he stared at the black and white image of Claire Redfield on the security monitor, watching the young woman from the private feed he had installed in his office. Right now, the bitch was holding the item that was the source of his great aggravation towards her and the brat he currently had locked up in one of the toy rooms not far from where he was now. Said item was a small gold charm clutched between the older girl's thumb and index finger.
Such a small, mundane item, but it was his ticket to a better life once he escaped Raccoon.
"Is Sherry alright?" she demanded, and though the angle of the camera in his office didn't let him see her lips moving, he easily heard her voice from the cordless mobile phone held to his right ear, her voice barely betraying her obvious worry for the little girl.
So pathetic, Irons mused to himself, resisting the urge to shake his head. Claire and her asshole brother were too much alike, so annoyingly concerned for others and their well-being.
What did she have to gain by saving Sherry? Absolutely nothing, since it was clear she had no idea about the pendant's real value if she was so eager to trade it for the brat. Not to mention that while the orphanage was indeed only a few blocks away from the station, the former police chief had failed to mention the fact that the streets were crawling with virus carriers, human and animal alike. But here was this goody-two shoes young girl ready to risk life and limb for a stranger, even a little brat.
Pathetic. But it did mean she would play into his hands whether she liked it or not.
"...For now," he warned her, leaving it at that.
Claire's body language shifted, her shoulders rolling as anger filled her. "I swear, you bastard, if you hurt her-"
He hit a button on the phone, ending the call, unwilling to listen to anymore of the Redfield's self-righteous bullshit. Irons had heard enough sanctimonious crap like it from her brother. It still pissed him off like nothing else that the elder Redfield sibling had escaped well before the shit had hit the fan, and that Raccoon City - his city - had turned into hell on Earth.
With an annoyed sigh, the older man hit a button on the monitor he was observing, switching over from watching Claire fume at his office phone to observing the Birkin girl sitting forlornly on the bed in the room he had stashed her in.
More irritation filled him at the sight of the child. All the hours he had spent looking for her in the station, dodging around his now-undead officers and those skinless mutations Umbrella had probably cooked up in that damn lab under the city now let loose in the station, and the rarer encounters with the living he hadn't allowed himself to enjoy like he had Ed and that loony he had locked up on the third floor. No, he had to just off them, and keep searching. Such a waste.
And when he had finally found her, the little brat had dropped the damn locket.
"Stupid kid. If you just hadn't dropped that fucking thing, I could let you go..." he whispered to himself as he glared down at Sherry, sitting on that bed, and no doubt feeling sorry for her predicament, which just made him angrier.
The hell did she have to feel bad for? She hadn't spent years climbing the ladder in some old police station, in a shit-splat town in the middle of nowhere, then spend another decade building a rapport with the real power behind Raccoon City, only to see his dreams crumble because of that disaster in July, when that bastard Albert Wesker had failed to clean up whatever mess Umbrella had spilled in the Arklay Forest.
The only good thing to come out of that was Wesker biting the bullet and getting himself killed, so he wasn't Irons's problem anymore. But then Chris Redfield had to start running his damn mouth off about conspiracies, and Umbrella's involvement. That had gotten Sherry's asshole father breathing down his neck even more than he already was, that fucked-up nutjob already a mess, what with Umbrella demanding his new virus - his 'precious' G - be turned over so they could recover from the financial blow of losing two facilities back-to-back. Redfield may have disappeared to Europe a month or so later, but that skank Jill Valentine had tried to follow up.
Irons had placed that bitch under house arrest to keep her nose out of where it didn't belong, but dealing with her had distracted him. Although he had to admit that not hearing from Birkin or his bitch wife for a while had been nice, too late did he realize that had been the first real sign of the end coming. Then the cannibal attacks resumed, this time inside the city. And while Irons had managed to seal Raccoon up to keep the infection from spreading, Umbrella had written them all off as dead.
Maybe the rest of the mouth-breathers would accept their fate, but not him. Not Brian Irons.
He had allowed himself to finally indulge in some long repressed... hobbies once order had collapsed entirely. But in the midst of hunting down Mayor Warren's lovely daughter, Katherine - who had been waiting for him downstairs in his private study - an idea had struck him.
Birkin and his wife were probably long dead by now, but their research - not to mention their samples - still had to be down in that lab underneath the city, right? All he had to do was find Sherry, get the pendant, and he could use Umbrella's private escape platform to get out of the city, and net himself a nice little going-away present. Something to sell off to one of their competitors for a few million or so to make up for all the money Birkin owed him and had never repaid, despite everything Irons had done for him over the years. Then he could find somewhere to retire in luxury... and enjoy his favorite hobby of taxidermy in peace, free from worry for the rest of his days.
Irons found himself grinning - leering, really - despite his still-foul mood. So what if Sherry dropping the stupid thing had delayed his departure from his once-beloved city by a couple of hours, or so? If anything, it gave him time to craft one last masterpiece on his cutting table. Oh, how he could hardly wait...
And... maybe, once Redfield's sister delivered the pendant...
Irons licked his lips, his grin becoming perverse and hungry.
He could show Claire his cutting table, too...
Soft blue eyes once more found themselves drawn to the rain-speckled window. The only window in the room, filled to the brim with numerous toys, bright wallpaper under the various crayon-scrawled drawings, colorful rug, sheets, and pillows. The darkened city just peaking behind the glass, the dark storm clouds looming over it, matched Sherry Birkin's feelings of utter helplessness and hopelessness. The only consolation, if it could even be called that, was that the horrible fat man had pretty much left her alone after dragging her through the streets, and stuffing her in this room in the orphanage he had brought them to.
The toy-filled room was fairly shadowed, the faint, dull light from the tall lamp in the corner, and the smaller one on the desk stand next to the bed offered little illumination, the light leaking through the rain-splashed window from the streetlights outside seeming somehow brighter. Sherry continued to watch the rain fall, a faint part of her hoping that older girl she had met, Claire, was alright. She had hated watching that fat man hurt her, and she feared for the woman's safety now that she was all alone in the police station with all those horrible monsters...
But at least that monster chasing me is dead... I hope, she thought.
Claire's friend, that man with the white hair in the red coat, had been fighting it while the older girl had led her away. She had promised her he would be okay, and kill that horrible thing. The little girl swallowed, her mouth going dry as a terrifying thought occurred to her.
What if the red-coated man hadn't killed it? What if it was still alive, still looking for her? Inhaling sharply, Sherry didn't have long to ponder that potential terror when her current tormentor reminded her of his awful existence.
The sound of approaching footsteps, muffled by the locked door blocking her from the hallway beyond, caught her attention, and the blonde child saw the faint light illuminating from under the door disappear into a heavy shadow, a man's voice mockingly crooning a moment later.
"Don't worry, Sherry. It'll all be over soon..."
His words were filled with a terrible anticipation, and while the little girl hated to agree with that terrible man, she somehow knew he was right. The longer she waited, the more likely it was that Claire was in mortal danger from being trapped in the station, or maybe even trying to find her. If she did come here, that horrible man would hurt her again, and she knew there would be nothing she could do to stop him...
...If she stayed in the room, that is.
Swallowing again, firming her shoulders, Sherry looked towards the far wall just ahead of the bed, past a pile of toys, and under the upper wall where crayon-scribbled drawings hung. A small section of the wall had been covered by a piece of cardboard taped against it.
Looking from that spot on the wall, then towards the door one last time, the child whispered to herself, "There has to be a way out of here..."
If she could sneak out and escape this strange building, maybe she could reunite with Claire and her friend, and they could all find her mom, and get out of the city together. She would have to be quick but quiet. Sherry knew she could be quiet, having learned from an early age not to bother her parents unless she wanted to risk them raising their voices, and glaring down at her spitefully.
But this was going to be a lot more dangerous than getting yelled at by her mother and father. That fat man had an even shorter fuse than them, and if he caught her trying to escape...
The blonde little girl shook her head, forcing that train of thought away as she stood up from the bed, her hands knitting together in front of her. She was going to have to be brave. Braver than she had ever been before in her short twelve years of life. But if she could escape, she knew she'd save herself and Claire from whatever horrible fate awaited them at that fat man's hands. Her heart was pounding so hard, her chest hurt, and her stomach felt fluttery and strange. But she had to ignore these feelings if she was going to try and escape.
Quickly moving towards the wall with the taped up cardboard on it, Sherry moved her hands over the corners where the dark tape was holding it against the wall. With a little effort, wriggling her fingers under the tape, she was able to peel it back just enough to get the tape off the wall, letting the cardboard fall away-
-and reveal a hole in the wall just tall and wide enough for her to sneak through if she crouched. An excited smile briefly replaced her look of woe and fear, but she forced it away, her breath coming out a little faster as she quickly ducked and scuttled under the hole in the wall, arriving in a new room.
Standing up, the twelve-year-old looked around in wonder, asking herself, "What is this?"
It looked like a doctor's examination room at first glance, one corner shelf holding a bunch of medical items and tools, while an eye exam chart hung on the wall immediately in front of her, but there was a desk in the corner along with a computer monitor, which showed the room Sherry had just escaped from. Swallowing again, finding her nerves getting worse by the moment, she quickly made for the only door, which was unlocked much to her relief. Pushing it open, the blonde-haired child arrived back in the bright blue hallway decorated with colorful smiling animals and flowers, with more children's crayon drawings taped along them as well. It reminded her of her elementary school from a few years ago, but that thought only added to her growing unease.
There was something horribly off about this place, and the longer she stayed here, the more she wanted to leave. Inhaling shakily, hands still clutched together, the preteen quickly turned to her right to head down the hallway, her heart leaping when she saw a second door, already ajar-
-and blocked off by an askew crib, making it impossible to push the door open entirely, with no room to even try to squeeze through. Backing away from the door, feeling her hopes for escape plummeting, Sherry quickly resumed down the hallway, flinching slightly when a loud rumble of thunder and a blinding flash of lightning illuminated the dim corridor. Passing a small desk with an open notebook, a diary of some kind, the twelve year old girl glanced down at the floor, noting the hopscotch drawn on the floor, before looking up and seeing she had arrived at a dead-end.
Panic made her heart pound in her chest even harder, her fluttering stomach making her queasy. But then she noticed the large dresser next to the wall, while further up was an open window. Blinking, the girl quickly moved towards the dresser, her eyes looking from the window a few feet above her, then back down to the tall dresser itself. The window was maybe four or five feet higher up compared to her small stature, but she was willing to bet the dresser in front of her could help her clear that.
Finding the handle on the second drawer just slightly at level with her stomach, Sherry pulled it open about midway, and to her excitement, saw it was filled to the brim with boxes of children's food and packaged juices. Pulling herself up, and standing atop the food containers, the little girl let out a breath of relief she hadn't realized she was holding when she found herself standing easily, the drawer not so much as bending even slightly under her light weight. She repeated the process on a higher drawer, this one also filled with more food items and other boxed materials, easily letting her climb to the top of the drawer, and slip herself feet first through the open window.
Landing with a soft "Hup!" in a crouch, Sherry rose back up to take in her new surroundings with wary eyes. She knew as soon as she saw all the cribs, standing tables, and other furniture that she had found herself in the room with the blocked door. Steadying her breathing in hopes it would calm her pounding heartbeat, the blonde preteen moved between the tightly bunched furniture before ducking under a children's castle play set to arrive at the exit door.
Finding it unlocked, she stepped out into a walkway overlooking the lobby, her eyes lighting up when she spotted the double doors below, only a few feet away from the stairs. Her hopes soaring, she quickly but quietly made her way across the balcony and down the steps, rushing up to the doors, and snatching the handle as soon as she was an arm's length away-
-but they refused to budge, the handle held firmly in place. They were locked. Futilely, she pulled at the handle with all her strength, but the door remained firm and in place.
Fighting back a wail of frustrated helplessness, Sherry let her hand fall away, her fingers knotting together again as she hissed, "Darnit, I need the key!"
There was a desk in the back of the lobby, past a smaller table meant for children. But a quick search behind it revealed no hidden key to her freedom. That left only one other option: the lone door to the left of the desk. The young girl stared at it, her blue eyes wide with trepidation, her already-pale skin now going ghost white.
She had no idea what was behind that door, but she knew that the horrible man couldn't be anywhere else if she hadn't seen him in any of the other rooms. She knew if he found her out of the room he had locked her in, she would be in far worse trouble. But if the key to the front doors, and her freedom, was anywhere, it would be somewhere behind that door. Swallowing, steeling herself as best as she could despite the ever-growing terror, Sherry approached the door, gingerly touching the handle.
To her relief, this door was unlocked. Turning the knob and pushing it open, she stepped into the new corridor, closing the door behind her as quietly as she could. This hallway was a stark contrast to the first one the little girl had found herself in, the walls lined with dark red wallpaper and portraits, almost the total opposite of the bright blue painted walls and happy children's scrawls. Sherry supposed that this was where the adult staff of this orphanage worked.
Just before stepping into the new hallway, the twelve-year-old paused for a moment, frowning. She could hear music, or at least what sounded like music. An orchestra was playing, a man's voice in tempo with it, but not speaking English. It was strange, and more than a little foreboding. Swallowing, she entered the hallway, ignoring the strange music, her mind wandering.
Sherry had been confused as to why the fat man had brought her to Raccoon City's only orphanage. She hadn't recognized it initially, but she had quickly figured out where she was soon enough. She recalled the times she had heard her parents discussing this place behind closed doors, though the little girl never understood why they referred to the orphans as 'subjects.' She also knew that this orphanage had been closed for renovations. At least, that's what she heard some of her teachers say once. Her parents had talked about a 'spill,' an 'escaped subject,' and the word 'contamination.'
It was all so confusing, and she didn't have time to think about it. Crouching slightly, Sherry moved quickly through the corridor into the next, her hopes flaring when she saw several windows along the wall, but quickly sank when she saw the iron bars just beyond the glass. Another blockade between her and escape. She turned her eyes ahead, spotting some curtained windows of the next room, before promptly freezing in place when a heavy shadow passed over them, an all too familiar figure.
"Oh no... It's him!" she whispered to herself. The child almost stopped in her tracks, shrinking down even more, wanting to just turn and run away. But she dug deep, trying to ignore her pounding heart and fluttering stomach.
She had come too far to stop now. She had to look for another way out, or even the key for the front door. She would just need to be extra quiet, and extra careful.
Staying crouched low and turning the corner, the preteen saw a door at the end of the hallway, the music growing louder, which she supposed was actually a good thing, since it meant the fat man would be listening to it, and not for any other sounds. Reaching for the handle, she turned it slowly, feeling a small relief when even she couldn't hear the quiet *click* of the lock opening.
Pushing the door open slowly, Sherry arrived in a new room, a large office space. To her left, multiple shelves were lined up with various items stored upon them, from bottles to buckets, while in front of her was a small table with an old typewriter on top of it. Rising to a half-crouch, her eyes peered up to peek through the shelves in case the fat man suddenly walked by. The twelve-year-old girl rounded to the left past the shelves-
-then promptly went back, slapping both hands over her mouth to keep herself from screaming.
In the center of the office was a large wooden table with a white cloth over it... and the body of a woman maybe around Claire's age. Her skin was a strange, blueish hue, wearing only a white gown. Her eyes were closed, her blonde locks tied in twin tails hanging limply over her shoulders, with dozens of bottles and needles laying around her body.
Sherry felt tears of terror prickle her eyes, her heart beating so hard, she felt like her chest was going to explode. She had thought the zombies and the strange inside-out men clinging to the walls of the police station had been horrifying, but she knew that whatever the fat man was doing with this poor woman's body was sick. And really, she didn't even want to think about it anymore.
Swallowing again, her mouth painfully dry, Sherry peeked around the corner, looking away from the body, past it, towards a desk in the far corner... where a key rack was secured just above it. A lone key idled, a weird hook hanging from the ring it was attached to. Part of the little girl's fear gave way to a faint spark of hope.
That's it! It has to be the key to the front door! her mind cheered.
She could hear the horrible man rummaging in the corner just opposite of the desk, a white curtain sheet over him, keeping him from her view, and Sherry from his.
Dropping back down into a crouch, the young blonde quickly darted towards the table, unable and unwilling to look at the body of the woman atop it. Sliding past it, she arrived at the desk. Chancing a glance to her left, seeing the silhouette of the fat man still rummaging around, Sherry quickly rose back up and onto the chair, using it for height and leverage to reach out for the key.
It was just an inch or so out of reach, if she just leaned a bit closer-
-then the strange music stopped, the room growing quiet, save for the rattle of metal and sheet as the fat man emerged from behind the curtain, his beady eyes instantly locked on the twelve-year-old.
"Where you going, Sherry?" the fat man asked with a dark smile, his voice low and edged with anger.
The young girl instantly flinched back and away from him and the desk, the key forgotten and out of reach.
The man stalked towards the desk, snatching the key off the rack while hissing, "I told you to stay put." Sherry continued to back away while the much taller and larger man advanced, clipping the key to a belt loop on his pants while sneering, "You need to learn to listen."
Terror and panic raced through the child's heart, and all she could do was keep backing up. But in moments there was no else to go, as she backed into the table. "Leave me alone! Just, please..."
When she hit the edge of the table, her head snapped back, watching a large brown bottle shake from the impact.
The fat man just glared down at her before snarling, "Time to teach some manners!" He started for her, moving quickly-
-and Sherry, on pure instinct and fear-laced adrenaline, snatched the bottle next to her, before throwing it directly at the man's fat face, nailing his wide left cheek. The bottle shattered, its contents splashing all over the left half of the man's face. He immediately screamed in agony, his hands scrabbling at his left cheek as the fluid from the bottle hissed, and turned the skin an angry, inflamed red, smoke wafting from between his fingers as they clutched at the ruined flesh.
Knowing she had really done it now, the little girl bolted, dashing for the door as the hissing man continued to clutch at his burned face, before suddenly grabbing a nearby metal cart and shoving it over.
"You little bitch!"
Giving him one last glance as he clutched his face and snarled, "You're gonna pay for this!... Aghagh, you little shit!" Sherry dashed for the door, and back out into the hallway.
Hide! I've gotta hide! her mind screamed as she ran for her life.
Irons stomped after the little brat, watching her slip around the corner of the tight hallway. Feeling the corrosive fluid continuing to eat away at the left half of his face, he barked, "You are gonna be so fucking sorry!"
"GO AWAY!" the girl screeched back at him, her whiny voice further grating on his enraged state.
Goddammit! All she had to was stay in her fucking room and keep quiet, and he would have let her go after getting the damn pendant back from Redfield! Instead, she had deliberately disobeyed him, and fucking disfigured him to boot! Growling under his breath, he slammed the door to his office shut, stabbing the key in the hole to lock it before stomping after Sherry.
The little brat was quick, just dashing out of the next door. And by the time he was through it, she was already up the stairs for the second floor, uselessly crying, "Help! Somebody please!"
Irons couldn't keep the sneer off his face or out of his voice as he called after her, "You stupid bitch, that's a dead end!"
She was already at the door, yanking it open, and vanishing inside. Chuckling, the man quickly locked the door behind him before making a dash for the stairs, climbing up them two at a time, wincing as he felt and heard the corrosive fluid on his face bubble and burn deeper into his flesh, the pain like a fierce sunburn coupled with dozens of stinging hornets. Ooh, when he got his hands on her...
Arriving at the door, he flung it open, arriving in the large nursery. He quickly pulled his flashlight off his belt, flicking it on before locking the door behind him, trapping the little brat in here with him. There was no escape now...
Surveying the room, searching through the heavy shadows for any sign of movement, dragging the beam of his light over them, the former police chief called out, "It's all over now! Door's locked!"
Only silence was his response. Groaning in annoyance and slight pain, Irons stalked deeper into the room, kicking the various toys around the door aside, wishing he was kicking Sherry's side instead. He'd find her, though. There was nowhere else to go...
Continuing further into the room, waving his light around, he winced and hissed as his face continued to burn, his left eye narrowing as he struggled to keep it open, slight fumes wafting up, and bringing tears to his eyes. Shoving a crib aside, Irons continued to look down and around, but spotted no movement at all.
"Where are you?! Show yourself! I know you're in here! The longer it takes me to find you, the worse it's gonna be!" he bellowed.
And by god, he was a man of his word if nothing else. If that little brat thought she knew suffering, he was gonna redefine the word for her once he got his hands on her!
No response, though. The only sound he could hear was his own breathing. Growling, he shoved a crib aside, peering into the small kitchen area before moving back. Where the fuck was she?!
"Little bitch's gotta be in here somewhere..." he hissed, stomping back towards the door, and quickly glancing through the space the changing area occupied.
Nothing. He started to turn when he slammed his knee against one of the cribs, eliciting a cry of pain from him.
Great, a busted knee on top of his frying face.
"Urgh-ughagh! Goddammit!" he snarled. Irons was gonna snap Sherry's own legs like twigs once he found her.
Turning back around, checking the changing station a second time just to be sure. Still nothing. Aggravation fueled his fury. Where the fuck was she hiding?!
"Sonofabitch..." he murmured, moving around a crib and smashed his free fist on a table in the other side of the room. She couldn't be hiding anywhere else; there was nowhere to go!
"This is your last fucking chance!" he shouted out. "SHOW YOURSELF! NOW!"
His voice boomed through the room, but Sherry still refused to reveal herself. Fine by him. He'd make her regret ever being be born for the shit she was putting him through!
He stomped through the second half of the nursery, his flashlight beam darting from one spot to another, when he stumbled, the burning agony eating away at his face growing in intensity by the second, and he couldn't ignore it any longer.
Clutching his ruined left cheek, Irons moaned, "Aghah, fuck, it BUUUURNS!"
Water! He needed water to flush and douse the corrosive chemical eating away at his skin!
He dashed for the door just opposite of him. Jamming his key into the lock, he threw it open, staggering into the small bathroom. Fumbling for the sink, he turned the cold water on, and began splashing the liquid onto his face. He couldn't keep the groan of relief down as the cool water began washing the burning fluid off his skin...
The key with the hook on the ring hung out of the hole on the bathroom door, swaying slightly. The fat man was so busy washing his face where the bottle had broken against it, he never saw Sherry emerge from under one of the cribs and snatch the key out of the lock. She had hidden under one of the cribs closest to the door, her hands over her mouth the entire time to keep herself from screaming or crying out any time the man would stomp closer to her, or bellow his threats out. When she heard him scramble into the bathroom, she knew this was her only chance.
Racing back to the other door, the blonde girl jammed the key into the lock, when she heard the water turn off and the fat man asking aloud, "Where the fuck is my key?!"
Then the lights came on, the man having found the light switch on the wall by the bathroom door. She froze as he exclaimed triumphantly, "I see you!"
Somehow moving faster, the preteen unlocked the door, and raced back out onto the balcony, dashing down the stairs while whispering "Hurry... Hurry... Hurry..."
She could see the door. She was almost free!
She reached the door, feeling jubilant relief at the prospect of finally escaping. Jabbing the key into the lock, the child tried to push the door open-
-only to see a set of chains holding the doors closed from the outside.
"Wha- Won't open?!" she cried.
"Nice try, Sherry!" the fat man called from the floor above, and Sherry's hopes crashed then and there.
She couldn't escape. She couldn't get away.
Ripping the key free, the twelve-year-old ran for the door to the hallway she had gone through earlier, unlocking it quickly, and slamming it closed behind her, seeing the fat man arriving at the bottom of the stairs just before closing it. She locked it quickly, a part of her hoping she could keep him away from her until Claire or someone else found her-
-only to scream when the door shook and splintered apart, the sharp blade of an axe tearing through the flimsy wood.
"I'm comin' in, Sherry!" the fat man bellowed, continuing to hack the door apart.
Sherry twisted around and ran, making it around the first corner when she heard the door break apart completely, her tormentor snarling, "Get over here, you little bitch!"
His flashlight's beam fell on her just as she reached his office's door. Sherry unlocked it, and raced inside, heading for the table with the dead woman's body on top of it, crouching low by a corner. The fat man charged in after her, his beady eyes narrowed with fury.
"The game... is... OVER!"
His hands snatched her by her upper arms, and hoisted the struggling girl up with ease. All Sherry could do was scream and futilely kick her smaller legs out, crying, "NO!"
"Now you're in trouble!" he hissed angrily, his ugly face even more monstrous and frightening thanks to the angry, red burnt flesh on the left side of it.
"Let me go!" she pleaded, her eyes watering-
-when a large, shadowed figure loomed behind the fat man. Sherry's blue eyes widened in terror when she saw a familiar, massive orange eye swirling around in the figure's bloated upper arm, causing her to scream.
The shadowed figure, the monster that had been stalking her throughout the police station, lunged out just as Irons was turning around, his tight grip on her releasing as his eyes widened in surprise and terror. But it was already too late.
A massive hand clamped over the man's entire head, and the flesh of the palm seemed to split open, slick, wet squelching noises issuing as something slithered out of the palm of the monster's hand, and into Irons's open mouth. The fat man choked and gurgled as whatever it was slithered down his throat in a spray of dark fluid, before collapsing, his body going rigid before beginning to spasm.
Sherry crawled back behind the table, hearing the heavy footsteps of the monster behind her as she closed her eyes.
It had found her. And there was no escape now.
If not for the two zombies that had burst from behind a wire mesh fence's door, Claire would have never found her way to the orphanage Irons had ordered her to go to. She had been running onto the street just outside the police parking garage, the sounds of Tony's renewed battle with the unstoppable, coat-wearing behemoth still ringing in her ears when the fence's door came crashing down with a harsh clatter and a heavy smack, a lone male zombie having brought the door down with its weight, a second undead staggering after it with a hungry groan.
The sudden noise and motion drew the collegiate girl's immediate attention, her head snapping towards the noise, her panicked running coming to a stop. The zombie on the collapsed door stumbled up, its hands reaching out for her while the already-upright ghoul lumbered for her as well, bloody drool dripping from its open mouth, one hand outstretched and grasping for the living woman. Claire backed up a few steps, her gaze snapping over her shoulder while her right hand drew her revolver, before she set her eyes forward again.
The two zombies were still shuffling after her, but the pink-vested woman saw that they had moved away from the now-open gate in the fence just enough for her to get by them if she was fast enough. Not wanting to waste any more ammunition than she already had, the student quickly sprinted past the two undead, the crawling one making a lunging grab for her ankle while the standing one's outstretched arm was smacked away when she struck out with her hand gripping the pistol. By the time the fallen undead had finally staggered back onto its feet to join its turning companion, their would-be meal was already down the small alleyway, and soon racing up a flight of metal stairs, two at a time.
Claire arrived at the top of the stairway, and onto a fire escape situated between several buildings, the young biker girl breaking into a run as she quickly holstered her revolver, and reached for the MQ 11 hanging by her side, ejecting the empty clip before slapping in a new one; the second-to-last one she had. As she turned the corner to the left at the end of the fire escape, she numbly noted a large painted mural of a smiling couple with the Umbrella logo and a slogan she didn't bother to read, her mind currently racing and preoccupied. She forced her concern for the safety of her boyfriend aside, her thoughts scrambling as she tried to come up with a plan to find the orphanage Irons had taken Sherry to.
As she rounded the corner of the fire escape, Claire found herself overlooking a large residential neighborhood filled with dozens of parked cars and a lone bus, with a fenced basketball court, several homes... and a large building at the very end of the street, blocked off by a brightly-painted wooden gate. The young woman's eyes widened, a relieved smile brightening her dirt and ash-covered face as she realized she was only a few blocks from her destination.
"That's gotta be the orphanage!" she whispered to herself aloud, unable to contain her relief or budding excitement.
Unsure of how much time Tony had bought her, the girl hastened her gait, practically throwing herself down the flight of steps to the street below, ignoring a lone female zombie in a red top and green shorts, her pale skin covered in bright blood that matched her matted hair, while the living woman hopped over the large green dumpster blocking the alleyway-
-and flinched back with a shocked cry when several dark objects slammed against the chain-link fence barring the neighborhood street off, deep barks overlapping and rising over the jangling metal. Claire blinked, realizing it was three very large, dark-furred dogs that had thrown themselves against the fence, before spotting several deep red gashes along their bodies and the white, cataract-coated eyes that glared hungrily at her.
Zombie dogs, she realized, though these hellhounds seemed to be just as quick and hardy as their living counterparts.
"I don't have time for this shit!" she hissed, bringing the MQ 11 up with both hands before squeezing off several dozen rounds at the undead dogs.
The bullets smacked into their bellies and torsos, sending the animals flying back with a pained "Yipe!" Their blood-soaked bodies hit the ground wetly, where they lay, still twitching and jerking, not completely dead, but hopefully down long enough for her to get by them.
Resuming her running, Redfield slammed through another fenced door, and darted around the parked cars, racing for the basketball court since a blockade of parked cars prevented her from running straight for the orphanage gate. Shoving open another door in the court's fence, she dashed for the second door before skidding to a halt when two more zombie dogs lunged for the fence between themselves and her, their barks harsh and furious. Gritting her teeth, the redhead raised the submachine gun and opened fire again, this time aiming higher, and scoring several shots on the dogs' heads, knocking them back flat, where they lay still and quiet.
"Now play dead," she hissed before kicking the next door open, and running onto the street.
No sooner did the young biker run around another automobile did she discover the parked bus effectively blocking her off once more, and a third zombie dog quickly sitting up as soon as it heard her steps. She raised her weapon, her grey blue eyes noticing that the door at the front of the bus, and the one at the end behind another car, were both open.
Not wanting to waste any more time or bullets, the college student rushed into the bus, almost stopping when she saw the interior of the transit was littered with bloody bodies, all torn into and missing chunks of flesh. Racing through the bus, letting out a frightened cry when one of the bodies weakly made a feeble grab for her leg, the young woman quickly arrived back outside, less than a hundred feet from the orphanage, the gate doors partially open-
-and three undead dogs circling the street. Their white eyes landed on her, all of them beginning to growl once they spotted their next fresh meal. Fighting back a curse, Claire backed up a few steps when she heard another growl coming from inside the bus, and realized the other dog must have followed her inside. With no other choice, the girl set her gaze straight ahead for the open doors in the orphanage's gate, and charged forward.
The zombie dogs eagerly raced towards her, their jaws open as they barked again, spittle and blood flying from their open jaws. Shoving the MQ 11 forward, the woman sprayed bullets blindly, several finding their way into the undead hellhounds, and causing them to sprawl onto the asphalt with pained yips, while the third was untouched, and lunged through the air for her neck-
-and the collegiate girl ducked and weaved around the flying animal, passing through the gates, and quickly turning to slam them closed, sliding the lock back into place. Huffing for breath, Claire backed away from the doors, which quickly began rattling and banging, the hungry snarls of the undead dogs only partially muffled by the wooden barrier, though the doors held strong and sturdy, much to her relief. Letting her eyes close in relief, the tired young woman stood there for a moment to catch her breath, her heart pounding in her chest painfully.
When she had her breathing back under control, and her heart's beating resumed to a quicker but less painful pace, Claire ejected the machine gun's magazine, quickly counting the remaining rounds before slapping it back home, and letting the gun hang back by her side as she turned to face the looming orphanage.
"Hang on, Sherry...!"
The younger Redfield froze in place when she saw the front doors were smashed open, scraps of wood and broken chains littering the ground.
"Oh god, no. Sherry!" Claire uttered aloud in horror as she ran inside the building's main room.
Aside from several children's toys scattered about the floor, a lone desk in the far back, and a set of stairs climbing to the next floor, there was no sign of any kind of struggle, or any other kind of disturbance.
Frowning, her eyes narrowing, she called out, "Hello?! I have the pendant!"
Only silence was her response, no Chief Irons announcing himself with a gun pointed at Sherry like she had envisioned. Her eyes filling with trepidation, Redfield stepped further in, her gaze moving from one spot to another as she searched for a sign, or anything really. Something to give her even a single clue as to what had happened-
-when she saw a second door just to the left of the desk also smashed open, a discarded red fire axe among the broken wood. Seeing this filled her with fresh terror, and the woman quickly made for the door, arriving in a long corridor filled with books and paintings.
Walking just fast enough to quickly round the corner and see a set of windows ahead, she called out again, "Sherry?! Sherry, are you here?!"
She was just about to turn to the right-
-when Irons staggered out from around the corner, the left half of his fat face covered in angry, red burnt flesh, his pudgy features twisted in a grimace of agony.
Before Claire could react, he lunged out and grabbed her by her shoulders, shaking her as he slurred out, "Your fault...!"
"What?" she gasped, trying to shake free from his grip, but he had what felt like a death grasp on her. "What happened?!"
"Took too long!" he desperately spoke on.
"Oh god..." the woman whispered as a rumble of thunder issued, followed by a flash of lightning that illuminated Irons's hideous new features, and his contorting, pain-filled face. She saw a strange, dark fluid was leaking from the corners of his mouth as he began to jerk and writhe like he was having a seizure of some sort.
Unable to fight back her horror and disgust, the startled student shoved him back with all her might, both hands striking his chest as she screamed, "Get off of me!"
The fat police chief flew backwards, falling to his knees, his own hands scrabbling at his abdomen. Claire then realized she could hear a strange, thick, meaty sound coming from him. Her eyes widened with horror when blossoms of bright red blood began appearing under his gray vest.
The corrupt chief of police let out a final, choked curse, "DAMN YOU, WILLIAM!" which morphed into a scream of agony unlike anything she had ever heard before-
-which was drowned out by a horrible meaty *CRUNCH* of flesh tearing, and bone breaking as Irons's torso exploded in a shower of gore.
Claire screamed when she saw something pulling itself free from the gaping hole, a horrible screech rising over her own as a fist-sized thing pulled itself out of the corrupt police chief's body in a splash of blood. The corpse fell back with a heavy thump, the young woman flinching back as the creature that had burst forth from its impromptu womb skittered across the floor, its long tail leaving a trail of blood and flesh in its wake, before vanishing around the corner.
The woman's eyes unwillingly followed the strange creature's exit, before looking back to Irons's body in horror, her face pale and terrified as she whispered, "Jesus Christ..."
A chest-bursting monster, straight out of the movies...
Claire forced herself to gulp, her right hand gripping her chest as she fought down her rising gorge. Zombies were one thing. A invincible coated giant was one thing... Even a strange, human-looking monster with a mutant limb and eye-like tumor was one thing. But the idea of something forcing its way into your body, and then bursting out of your chest?... That was a horror all unto itself, and one she wouldn't wish on anyone, even someone as despicable as Chief Irons. A part of her wondered just what had implanted that inside him, and a fresh spike of terror spiked through her heart when she wondered if it was still around.
The young woman's eyes widened, her head shooting up as she cried out, "Sherry!"
The thought of whatever had done that to Irons still being around, possibly searching for fresh victims to implant more of its abominable spawn into, or even now was after the terrified child, sent the pink-vested cyclist back into a running sprint. She dashed over Irons's cooling body, and slammed into the door at the end of the corridor, arriving in a ransacked office space. Moving over fallen shelves, and stepping over various strewn about items, Claire didn't even pause to acknowledge the blue-skinned body of a young, blonde-haired woman in a thin white nightgown, the table she had been laying atop of overturned as well.
Moving into the back of the office space, she began to wonder if she should turn back and search the second floor for the little girl when she saw an open ladder hatch tucked away in the corner, just barely visible behind a smashed desk. Crouching down, the younger Redfield quickly climbed down the ladder, arriving at the bottom of some kind of storeroom.
Stepping away from the ladder, face filled with concern and fear, Claire called out, "Sherry?! Where are you?!"
The young college student began to make her way down the concrete set of stairs, descending deeper into what was presumably the orphanage's basement or storage cellar-
-when a young voice cried back, filled with relief, "Claire!"
Gaze snapping forward, tears of her own relief prickling the corners of her eyes, the older girl called back, "Sherry! I'll be right there!"
Breaking into a run, Claire was unable to hide her joy at the sight of the blonde girl crouching behind some boxes, the child's own face brightening up as her rescuer quickly reached her, crouching down to pull her into a tight hug. Sherry returned the hug full-heartedly, while the young woman brushed her hair, sighing in relief that she had finally found the lost little girl safe and seemingly unharmed-
-when a loud crash coming from the corridor the college student had arrived in broke their reprieve. Claire quickly stood up, drawing her revolver while Sherry hid behind her. The elder of the two swallowed as she heard heavy footsteps quickly approaching them, and was unable to fight down her returning fear.
Oh god, what now?! her mind demanded as a looming figure began to emerge from the shadows...
Earlier...
As Claire ran past the two zombies that had unwittingly provided her an escape route, back near the now-closed off parking deck, sounds of steel clashing against something possibly stronger than steel itself could still be heard, the noises echoing and reverberating louder and louder.
Then silence... but only for a moment.
The next saw a red blur smash into the lowered parking gate, and was forced through it, leaving a large hole. The blur smacked into the idle cruiser on the incline before bouncing a final time through the air, and coming to a painful halt atop the asphalt ground below in a heavy smack of flesh and clatter of metal.
Tony Redgrave collapsed onto his hands and knees, Woozy landing not too far away from him, before spinning off a few feet away in a splatter of rain. The white-haired swordsman wheezed and hacked a small gout of blood from his mouth, his nose gushing blood as well, courtesy of the cloaked behemoth that had blocked most of his sword strikes before finally punching him square in the face, then hauling its stunned quarry up like he weighed nothing, before throwing him through the closed parking gate.
Tony staggered back up, wincing as his nose set itself back into place before collapsing against the parked cruiser, painful coughs wracking him as he felt his broken back ribs begin knitting themselves back up as well.
"Startin' to think... ack... shooting his hat off was a bad idea...!" he murmured to himself.
The massive juggernaut had been unrelenting before in its pursuit of him and Claire, but while shooting its stupid fedora had drawn its attentions away from the college girl to give her some time to escape, the beast had unleashed its fury for its lost piece of headgear on the unfortunate mercenary in red in a renewed assault without restraint or relent. When he heard the sound of metal crumbling and screeching apart, Tony glanced up in annoyance when he saw the giant tearing its way through the parking gate, making the hole formed from the living impromptu projectile's flight even wider as it pulled itself through.
Moving away from the vehicle, and towards his fallen broadsword to scoop the blade back up by its hilt before ducking behind another car, the bruised young man's thoughts raced as he struggled to come up with a strategy. His guns were useless; he already knew that. And while his sword could cut a few inches through its coat, the heavy material stopped Woozy from getting any deeper, which left him open to either getting punched or throttled by the monster. When he heard and felt the monster approach, alerted by the heavy pounds of its footsteps that shook the ground and the parked car he was ducking behind, he darted for another stalled vehicle: a large ATV. The armored military grade vehicle's presence made him want to ponder over its appearance in Raccoon City, but Redgrave ignored that thought, simply ducking by the front of it, his grip on his sword's hilt tight and ready.
A full-on confrontation was simply suicide at this point, its rage having given it a murderous focus on the youth. And while its attacks were more aggressive, the simple fact was that he had no way of significantly wounding the damn thing as long as it was wrapped up in that coat.
Leaning against the ATV, the man in red weighed his options. He could try to keep fighting, maybe get lucky, and somehow find a way to kill it. But running after Claire wasn't an option, especially if she had already found Sherry. That would just put them back on this thing's radar, and they were a lot more helpless than he was against it.
A groan from ahead drew his attention, causing the battered merc to look over his shoulder, spotting two ghouls stumbling towards him, the bright lights of the streetlamp and neon sign for a gun shop catching his gaze-
-when Tony saw part of the street had given way into a massive hole, various wooden and metal scaffolding set up around it.
His thoughts flashed back to Ben's tape recording, the words 'big fucking sinkhole' coming to mind, which prompted a wry grin to form on his face.
Maybe he couldn't fight this thing head-on, but he might have just found a way to beat it all the same. His only problem now was luring it towards the edge of the sinkhole...
The coated giant stomped around the line of parked cars, its dark, burning eyes scanning for any sign of movement of its quarry, one gloved hand running over its bald, scarred head. It noted the absence of its hat once again, and felt a spark of fresh fury through its beating black heart. A sudden movement ahead caught its attention, its gaze snapping forward as its body began charging ahead, shoving a parked truck aside from impeding its path. The behemoth stopped its charge when it saw it was only two viral carriers idling by the edge of the street, less than half-a-dozen feet from the gaping maw of a massive sinkhole.
The massive monster paused, its eyes observing the undead momentarily before glancing to its left, spying an open door in a gated fence. Just as it began to ponder if the crimson-coated man had followed his female companion did it catch the sound of rushing air-
-and the juggernaut spun around, its right arm shooting out, gloved hand snatching Tony Redgrave by the neck as the man had leapt through the air for the colossal monster, its left hand snapping out to catch the descending sword in both of the swordsman's hands by the blade, blocking what would have been a downward swipe for its exposed head. The mercenary struggled in the creature's grasp, the monster yanking Woozy out of his hands, and throwing it aside, the sword impaling itself into the asphalt.
The dreadnought watched the human struggle in its grasp, its red and black eyes locking with the man's own icy orbs... when they suddenly seemed to change, small sparks of red light flashing at the corners of his quarry's eyes, their blue gaze turning a bright gold and red.
Tony couldn't resist the vicious grin as he hissed, "Gotcha!" in a warped voice before grabbing the giant's outstretched arm with both hands, using the long limb as leverage to hoist his waist up, and bring both of his heels forward in a powerful dropkick square on the behemoth's chest with twice the strength of any of his past attacks, sending the monster careening back. Its grip on his throat was released in shock as it stumbled back, teetering towards the edge of the sinkhole.
The man in red landed in a crouch before rolling forward, his right arm snatching out to grasp the greatsword's hilt, yanking it free, and using the sudden forward momentum to thrust the blade forward, impaling the barbed tip directly into the fiend's gut. The blow pierced the beast's coat, the force of the attack the final tipping point.
The creature pitched back off the edge of the sinkhole entirely, its massive form quickly descending like a falling rock, swallowed by the abyss of blackness below. Tony watched the creature disappear into the dark with a satisfied smirk, his gold and red eyes flashing again, returning to their normal icy hue.
Balancing Woozy over his shoulder, the victor called down into the darkness below, "Watch out for that last step, baldy! It's a little lulu!"
After letting out a victorious laugh, satisfied that the freak was now down and out, no longer able to chase after them, Tony turned towards the fenced door, slipping out his Beretta to squeeze off two shots, and put the two undead moving towards him down for good. He rushed through the door and up the steps of the fire escape, determined to catch up to his sweetheart before she got too far ahead of him.
As the red-clad youth vanished around the right turn of the fire escape pathway, back in the street below, the streetlight and neon sign of the Kendo Gunshop flickered, briefly casting heavy shadows over the street. When they flickered back to life, a lone figure in black was observing the edge of the sinkhole, before turning their gaze towards a large open sewer gate in the distance across the sinkhole.
The bandaged mystery man, Gilver, glanced after the path Tony had taken for a moment, before moving towards the gun shop's doors.
As entertaining as it was to watch his current target get the life beaten out of him, the eerie swordsman found himself curious about that so-called federal agent woman he had seen leaving the precinct after her brief encounter with Redgrave...
While Anthony and his lover were his focus, that other woman's presence was unexpected... and intriguing. As he pushed the doors to the gun shop open, noting they were already unlocked, he briefly mused over what that so-called agent's true intentions were.
Tony may have naively believed her story... but Gilver wasn't so easily fooled.
Claire's trail wasn't too hard to find. Aside from a single still-undead zombie, which Tony had put down with a single stroke from Woozy, the platinum-haired man had found several more now-truly dead zombie dog bodies on the street just outside of an empty basketball court. Cutting through the court, and back onto the street to get around a barricade of parked cars, the boy paused when he heard loud barking and the sound of wood rattling.
Hopping over a car to get around the long bus, Tony arrived at the end of the street, a tall building behind a colorfully-painted wooden gate just ahead, where three undead dogs were scrambling and slamming themselves against the wooden barrier. Rolling his eyes in aggravation, the youth ran towards the cannibal canines, but soared over them and the locked gate doors in a single leap, landing evenly in the courtyard, the undead dogs' frenzied scrabbling pausing momentarily in confusion.
"Gettin' real sick of running into all these stinkin' zombies... Heh, never would've thought those words would ever come outta my mouth," he mused to himself, his hands slipping into his coat's pockets as he marched for the entrance of the orphanage.
Claire and Sherry were inside, and so was that asshole Irons. And, boy, was Tony eager to give that creep a lesson in chivalry... Very eager.
"Nobody puts their hands on my girl, and gets away with it..." he whispered darkly, his eyes flashing between blue and gold once again.
Stepping inside the orphanage foyer, the young man noted the staircase, various toys, and stuffed animals before his view fell on the front desk, a smashed door directly at its left, with a thin trail of blood emerging from around it. Approaching it and stepping through the gap, arriving in a narrow red hallway, Tony headed for a right turn, and was about to take another when he spotted a large, blood-covered body at the end of the corridor. Frowning, he quickly closed the distance between himself and the corpse, his eyes widening when he saw the source of the blood.
"Yeesh... Somebody call Ridley Scott," the merc in red murmured as he observed the gaping hole in the fat man's rotund abdomen, the pale, shattered edges of his ribcage just visible under the blood and viscera.
Tony looked up at the man's face, wincing at the sight of the inflamed and burned left side before spotting a bloody I.D. badge on the dead man's breast pocket. One word was visible under the blood: Irons.
"Tch... Looks like somebody beat me to your fat ass," Claire Redfield's boyfriend uttered in partial disappointment.
Giving the fat man's body one last contempt-filled glare, he stepped over the corpse - swatting away the body's limp, outstretched left hand with his left foot a little more roughly than was needed - and headed for the open door behind it. Tony arrived in a thoroughly-trashed office space. While he briefly glanced at the blue-skinned body of a dead blonde by an overturned table, his attention was quickly drawn to an open hatch in the far back of the room.
Moving closer to it, the young man could faintly hear two voices, but instantly recognized one of them as Claire's. Relief flooding through him, he dropped through the hatch, landing on the concrete floor of a basement with a loud *crash.* Quickly pushing himself up, he descended the short incline leading deeper into the basement, and once he was at the bottom, spotted Claire standing protectively in front of the young blonde girl he had first seen in the power plant under the police station: the presumed Sherry.
Upon seeing him, the woman's own face filled with relief. "Tony!"
His girlfriend ran over to him, giving him a heavy embrace. The taller man reciprocated the hug, his eyes closing as he felt a weight on his heart fall away.
She was safe. They both were.
When the two pulled away, the young biker girl looked him over with obvious concern as she hurriedly asked, "Are you okay? How did you get away from that monster in the coat?"
Her boyfriend shrugged casually, replying, "I'm fine, babe. I already took care of that ugly S.O.B. He won't be chasing after us anytime soon."
Looking past her, he observed the child huddling back, wringing her hands as he smiled at her while speaking to Claire, "At least you finally found the kid, and you're both safe and sound. That's all that matters. Now whaddya say we find ourselves a way outta this dump, huh?"
The couple then walked over to Sherry, who looked up at the taller man in a kind of awe as the older woman gestured to him. "Sherry, this is my friend, Anthony Redgrave. He's been helping me find a way out of Raccoon City."
Tony waved at the little girl, smiling while saying, "Just call me Tony. Sorry for slowin' down your escape, little lady."
The twelve-year-old smiled back at, nodding and murmuring, "Hi."
Claire looked back to the white-haired man before asking, "So what now?"
He met her gaze before rubbing his chin, replying, "Streets are still crawling with zombies. It's not safe for us, let alone Sherry..."
His blue eyes noticed a long corridor to their left, leading further into the basement. He could make out a stairway at its end as well, making him cock a brow, and turn his full attention to it.
"Let's see where this goes."
Sherry nodded, and quickly scampered ahead, Claire following her after while Tony brought up the rear.
As they reached the stairs and started to descend them, he looked to the younger Redfield and asked, "How're you lookin' on ammo?"
Claire held up the machine gun he had given to her in the S.T.A.R.S. Office. "One clip left for this." Then she let it fall back to her side while indicating the grenade launcher over her shoulder. "One spare round for that." She then drew her revolver. "And about twenty rounds left for this."
She holstered it, and drew the large Quickdraw Army Tony had given her earlier, handing it back to him by the handle before snarking, "You know, you never reloaded this for me."
Chuckling, her partner took the gun, his hands rummaging through his coat, producing the box of nine-millimeter bullets he had found in the holding cells of the police station, before giving it to Claire, then reloading the large black revolver with the spare .45 rounds he had. Redgrave returned the revolver to Redfield, along with six extra cartridges for it as well, just in case.
Taking the heavy gun back and holstering it, she inquired back, "How about you?"
The gunslinger did a quick mental count of all the ammo he had used on both the eyeball monster and the wasted rounds on the monster in black. Resisting an annoyed growl, he replied, "Couple clips left for my handguns, maybe over a dozen shotgun shells, and seven rounds in the Magnum, plus a backup clip."
Claire nodded, speaking again as they arrived at the bottom of the steps. "Not too great, then."
"But not too hopeless," he countered, his eyes glancing back at Woozy's hilt just visible over his shoulder.
"Over here!" Sherry suddenly called, having vanished around a corner. The couple upped their pace, following where the small preteen had vanished.
They arrived in an open lobby with several open gaps beneath a metal railway, deep darkness lurking below them. The child was standing by an elevator booth, the shutter door already pulled back.
Claire glanced at Tony, who was peering over the railway's side into the darkness below. "Where do you suppose it goes?"
The man was quiet for a moment, his mind recalling Agent Ada's earlier advice. "Hmm... Sewers, more than likely." He looked back to the woman, meeting her eyes as he spoke. "In fact, that just might be the safest way outta this city. Not exactly the cleanest escape route, but it's not like we've got a lotta options."
His girlfriend only nodded, starting after the child while saying, "Well, it can't be much worse than everything else we've run into."
That prompted a dry chuckle from Tony, who was about to follow behind her-
-when he realized he heard rapid steps just behind him, prompting Sherry to suddenly scream out in fright.
Claire whirled around, her grey-blue eyes wide as saucers as she screamed, "TONY!"
Suddenly, Tony felt like he had been punched in the back, fiery agony erupting from two spots on his chest, the horrible sound of flesh tearing accompanying the pain. His vision blurred as splashes of red erupted from his chest, dark puddles of blood forming on the railway below him. For a moment, the young man wasn't quite sure what exactly had happened. Then, something caught the edge of his vision: a dull white and red.
Glancing down, he saw the source of the painful agony tearing through his torso. Two long, bloody claws were jutting out of two gaping, bloody holes in his abdomen. He only had a moment to contemplate them when he became aware of a pained groaning behind him, and he could hear both Claire and Sherry still screaming. Suddenly, the snowy-haired boy found himself hoisted up off his feet, fresh sparks of searing pain ripping through his chest from the sudden momentum, before he was harshly thrown aside in a spray of blood and tearing flesh.
He could hear his beloved cry out his name, despair and pain evident in her tone. "TONYYY!"
The crimson-coated, severely wounded man collapsed against the floor in a bloody heap, unable to move, his breath gone, the air in his lungs replaced with blood. His eyes caught sudden movement, and he saw the monster he had fought off in the power plant, but different. The shape of its body had changed, charging towards the elevator with a furious roar.
Sherry's voice screamed, "DADDY, NO!"
Then the beast collided with elevator cart, sparks flying, metal tearing, both girls screaming out in fright.
The sound of their terror prompted his body to move on its own, Woozy drawn out, Tony Redgrave's own eyes widening with horror as the elevator cart began to plunge down into the shadows below, the creature grappling it plunging with it.
The young, stubborn, determined swordsman dashed after it, all thoughts of pain gone as he screamed, "NOOO!"
Down, down into the dark abyss below, the only sounds emerging from it were the fading screams of two terrified humans, a furious beast... and a demonic howl of rage.
(Looks at calendar)
Hey it's only been...105 days since the last update! That's not that bad.
Okay it's pretty bad. The holidays, followed by FOUR birthdays (Only one of which was mine) kept me busy and drained. But, I bounced back after getting some anon reviews (One calling me a POS, the other defending me) and I finally finished this chapter! Shoutout and to props to Da-Awesom-One for his patience and continued support as my beta/co-author/editor.
Next chapter is called "Killer Queen", and we're gonna take a break from Tony and Claire and see what Ada has been up to, along with our mysterious friend Gilver. Will it take me three months to finish again? Hell if I now at this point.
Thank you to everyone who's read/reviewed/faved/followed this story.
