Chapter Nine: A Kind of Magic


They were at the bottom of the basement she had found Sherry in, the small girl standing by the elevator in front of them, waiting for the older couple as they chatted idly. And for a very brief moment, Claire Redfield almost believed that they would just take the elevator down to the sewers, and search for a means to escape the city of the dead Raccoon City had become. The unstoppable behemoth in the coat had been taken care of by her boyfriend, Tony Redgrave, Chief Irons was dead, and they were all free and far away from the various undead and other monstrosities back at the police station.

Maybe they weren't entirely out of danger, but surely - surely - the worst was finally behind them... right?

Wrong.

It happened so fast. If not for Sherry's sudden scream, Claire would never have even seen it. Perhaps that would have been for the better. When she heard the child's sudden cry, twisting around to see her point at something behind Tony, the young woman spun towards the direction they came from, her own eyes as wide as dinner plates when saw the looming shadow charging towards the unsuspecting youth, who still had his back to the approaching threat.

Eyes widening in terror, she cried out his name. "TONY!"

Her scream was almost drowned out by the horrible sound of puncturing flesh as two long, jagged, white claws burst from the young man's chest in a spray of blood. He went completely still, his expression one of surprise rather than pain, his icy eyes glancing down at the claws jutting out of his chest. Both girls screamed again in horror as the creature that had impaled the blindsided youth began groaning loudly, seemingly feeling the pain it had inflicted upon its silent victim.

Claire's grey-blue orbs flashed between her fatally-wounded boyfriend to the monster behind him-

-and, to her horror, she recognized it. It was the creature from the power plant beneath the police station: the monster that still somewhat resembled a man, save for the hideously swollen right arm and the tumor-like orange eyeball growing from its upper bicep. Except something had changed about it. And to her terrified surprise, it was still changing.

Its torso was even wider, the shreds of the white coat it had previously were gone, and the mutated arm was even larger now, more shards of bone jutting out of the shoulder. Where there had once been pale flesh was now torn, swollen, red fibrous muscle. Its legs were longer as well, the left pant leg gone, the right still on, along with the waistband, the flesh of its leg as crimson and torn-looking as the rest of its body.

The shaggy human-looking face let tortured groans and moans of agony slip out of its lips, which suddenly grew in fervor. Claire realized the still-human face was sinking lower into the chest, as if it was being shoved down by the sudden bulging, twisting flesh rising where the human head had been. A new face was actually growing out of the monster's neck.

"Daddy...?" Sherry's small voice whispered from behind the young woman, prompting her to whirl around and glance down at the child in shock.

"What'd you say?" she asked her in disbelieving horror.

But Sherry wasn't looking at her, her wide blue eyes transfixed on the human face of the monstrosity. To the college girl's dawning horror, she realized both the girl and the man's face shared the same blonde hair and blue eyes. The man's single, bloodshot eye met the child's own teary orbs, and the biker girl swore she saw an even worse pain flicker through the eye, before the face fell away with another pained groan.

"Oh god..." she whispered, pushing the preteen as far back as she could into the elevator's cart, walking backwards, and shoving the gate door shut in an effort to put another barrier between herself and the girl from the transforming monstrosity only ten feet away from them.

The human face's pained groans finally ceased, while horrible snapping noises issued as the new head finished settling in place. There was nothing remotely human about it, resembling nothing more than an overgrown lump of flesh, bone, and sharp teeth as the new mouth opened in an enraged roar, a single green eye appearing where a normal eye would have been.

With a furious growl, it flung its monstrous right arm out, flinging Tony off its claws in the same motion, fresh blood spraying in the wake of the limp man's body, which collided into the wall, and slumped lifelessly to the ground in a heap.

"TONYYY!" Claire screamed again as the monster reared back and howled.

When she glanced back at it, the only thing left that still resembled the human it may have once been was the silent and slack face now consigned to its left pectoral, where just below it, a smaller, thinner arm was growing out, twitching weakly. The beast lowered its body suddenly, its new face and the orange tumor-like eye on its massive right bicep locked not onto the pink-vested cyclist, but the little girl behind her.

With a guttural roar, it charged for the elevator, dragging its massive clawed hand behind it.

"DADDY, NO!" Sherry screamed.

If this creature was indeed the child's father, whatever part of him left inside the monster he had become no longer had control of his body, and the creature refused to heed his daughter's cries. The beast collided with the elevator cart with enough force to knock it back and off the rails that controlled it. The lift began to descend at a rapid pace, both Claire and Sherry screaming as the monster's arms began to tear at the gate, the abomination roaring as well...

But above all of that, the younger Redfield swore she heard another howl... One different from this monster's, and unlike anything she had ever heard before. This bellow was an even deeper roar...

One that could only belong to the devil himself.


Darkness, both all-consuming and encompassing, stole from her the sensations of sight and sound. Then... a voice reached through the blackness, stirring her back towards the light.

"Claire? Are you alright?"

The darkness gave way, and she could see Sherry's face over hers, the young girl's cheeks and forehead smudged with dirt and flecks of blood, her bright blue eyes peering into her own, filled with terror and anxiety. The child's voice sounded far away despite how close Claire knew she was... but beneath that, the young woman could faintly hear something else.

"Can you hear me?" she asked desperately. "Claire...?"

She wanted to tell her that she could, but her lips refused to work. Sounds began to echo under Sherry's voice, and the older girl could make out sparks of electricity flashing behind the child, and hear deep growling snarls of the monster that had attacked them... and the singing of metal cutting through empty air striking flesh, and piercing through it. The snarls became enraged roars, but despite how loud they should have been, the college student could still only faintly hear them just slightly above the blonde girl's voice.

The little girl's face flinched upwards, watching something the unresponsive young adult couldn't see, before glancing back down at her, fresh terror flashing through her little bright eyes.

"Claire, you have to get up! He's going to get us! Wake up! Wake up!"

More roars... followed by a man's voice crying out in pain, the sound of something heavy being thrown through the air, followed by a clatter of metal, and the sound of more flesh being torn. The child's gaze frantically looked back and forth from Claire to something that was out of the barely-conscious older woman's field of view, though she could hear a series of heavily thudding *booms* growing closer and closer.

Just before the hazy blackness overwhelmed her once again, dragging her into silent oblivion, the last thing she saw was the little girl scrambling up and spinning in the other direction, running away from the approaching abomination, its enraged roar fading into the darkness as well.

Black nothingness followed for what seemed like an eternity... And then...

"Wake up! Wake up!"

A new voice, older than Sherry's, tone filled with demanding annoyance to replace the child's frantic desperation, tore her from her slumber.

Gentle snaps followed the new voice, and Claire found her mind rising out of the all-consuming darkness, her eyes weakly blinking open. She almost snapped them shut again when a sudden bright light shone directly into them.

The new voice - an older woman's, the young college student realized - spoke again. "Open your eyes."

Reluctantly, she complied with the command, struggling to keep her aching orbs open as the glow from a small penlight in a blurry hand over her face held the light over her left eye, then to the right as the voice spoke again.

"Hold still..."

The girl did as she was told, too out of it to really question what was happening. Then, finally, and with much relief from the younger woman, the older lady looming over her drew the penlight away, allowing the collegiate girl to roll her head to the side, blinking her watery eyes several times to get the lingering flashing dots out of her vision.

The other woman rose back up, and stepped away from her fallen form, murmuring to herself as she did. "Not infected..."

Hearing those words did little to alleviate Claire's immediate mood, even as she resisted the urge to panic at the idea that she could have caught the sickness that had turned Raccoon's populace into undead cannibals. She shoved those feelings aside as she struggled to pull herself off of the hard floor, her whole body feeling like one giant, throbbing bruise. Rolling over onto her side was torture enough, the sounds of electric sparks discharging serving to further irritate her pounding head and aggravated vision.

Slowly, her bearings were coming back to her, and then she realized it was just herself and the other woman in the room.

"...Sherry?" she whispered aloud, her grey blue eyes looking over the large room. The young biker pushed herself onto her hands and knees, her gaze snapping from one corner of the new open space she had awakened in to another, but there was no sign of the little girl in her charge anywhere.

"Where's Sherry?!" she demanded, her eyes falling on the room's other occupant.

Now that her head was clearing up somewhat, Claire took in the newcomer's appearance. It was a woman perhaps a decade or more her senior - in her late thirties or early forties was her best guess - and she was wearing a white lab coat over a gray blouse and blue jeans, her long blonde hair tied in a single tail slipping over her right shoulder. She didn't seem to be paying any attention to her, and was instead scribbling something in a pad of paper in one hand, with a pen in the other.

The younger woman was about to reiterate her question when the blonde mumbled a reply, almost absently. "Sherry... Sherry's fine."

The response made Claire blink as she forced herself to stand back up to her full height, her right hand gripping her hip as it throbbed and pulsed with pain. Fortunately, however, her feet didn't wobble, and her legs held up as she slowly approached the distracted blonde, who continued to scribble in her notepad, only looking away from it to observe the recent damages inflicted upon the room.

"Do you know Sherry?"

The woman either ignored, or more likely, simply wasn't paying enough attention to the redhead's question, instead opting to look over a section of the room that had been torn apart like a mini-tornado had blown through.

"...impressive display of strength," she uttered in awe before suddenly walking away from the spot she had been studying to quickly dart behind Claire, the younger woman watching incredulously as the older woman continued to document the destruction inflicted upon the area.

"What happened to her?" she demanded further, not in the mood for whatever game this person was playing.

The older woman's head fell to investigate her notepad as she scribbled into it some more, but replied to the biker's question this time by way of mumbling, "We have to assess the situation..."

The college student's eyes narrowed in a combination of confusion and frustration with this woman's strange antics. But as she looked up to the newcomer's face, she noted the dirty stains of sweat and blood along her clothes, and a part of her wondered if she was in a state of shock. Her note-taking might have been an attempt to cope with whatever had rattled her so badly.

Still needing answers, the young woman spoke up again, needing to try to gain the other woman's attention in order to find Sherry. "Who are you?... I'm Claire."

Again, the blonde lady didn't respond, instead looking away from her notebook to observe something in the ruins of the elevator shaft, her deep blue eyes narrowing in thought.

"I didn't foresee this... None of the subjects ever progressed to Stage Two... Don't understand why he would kill a potential carrier for an embryo... Unless..."

She trailed off, scribbling in her notebook rapidly, making Claire blink in confusion, her head turning to look at the ruin of the elevator-

-and her hands rose to her mouth, her jaw dropping in horror at what she saw. Her eyes widened, tears prickling their corners when she spotted a familiar figure in red, impaled by the various broken metal pieces jutting out of the ruined elevator cart.

No... Oh god, no... Please!... Please, NO!

Her mind pleaded, her soul begged to whatever higher power that controlled this insane world she found herself in... But the truth lay in front of her.

Tony Redgrave's body was hung up atop the destroyed elevator cart, several broken pieces of jagged metal sticking out his limp limbs. Two had gone through his right leg, with a longer rebar piercing through his left thigh. Another was jammed through his left shoulder, and several more emerged from his chest and abdomen, each rusty bar covered with dark blood, his own pale face and hair streaked with it. His eyes were closed, and if not for the obvious impalement his body had been subjected to, she could have fooled herself into thinking he was merely asleep.

The young woman couldn't fight down the single choked sob that escaped her, while feeling the tears that had been gathering begin to fall down her cheeks.

The sound seemed to draw the other woman's attention from her notebook, giving Claire a glance before saying, "What?... Oh, Annette. Tell me, what happened to William?"

That sudden question, as well as the newcomer's, Annette's, delayed introduction, drew the grieving girl's teary eyes away from Tony, meeting the older woman's sudden intense gaze.

Sniffling, wiping her eyes, she could only utter in reply, voice trembling with barely restrained grief, "I-I don't know... Who-who is that?"

"The creature responsible for this," the other woman snapped back, her focused expression giving way to sudden irritation.

When she saw the younger woman look back at the dead man's body, she shook her head and quickly scribbled a few final notes into her notepad before stuffing it and her pen into the pocket of her coat, muttering to herself, "Seems to be evolving much faster than expected..."

The sudden sound of Annette moving away drew Redfield's attention from her lover's body, and she peered over her shoulder, seeing the lady moving towards a door on the other side of the room. The college student looked back at the man's deceased form again before pushing her grief down, wiping her tears away as she looked back towards the retreating woman.

"Wait, where are you going? Where's Sherry?!"

The little girl had run off, Claire could remember that much. And this woman, Annette, had seemed to know something about her. Maybe even where she could have gone to.

But the blonde rounded around to give the biker girl an impatient glare, snapping, "Look, I don't have time to play twenty questions!" She paused, seeming to collect herself, before looking back at Claire and speaking in a calmer tone. "Everything's under control here."

With that said, she spun around and resumed walking away for the door.

Claire couldn't believe what she was hearing. This woman seemed completely out of it, unable to accept the reality of the situation around them. Raccoon was a city of undead, monsters were roaming the streets, and she believed everything was under control?

Desperate, Claire moved after her, calling out, "I need to find Sherry-"

"My daughter is not your concern!"

The older woman's sudden spin to face her again, followed by her angry shout, froze the younger woman in place, her eyes widening again in disbelief. Giving the collegiate girl one last angry glare, Annette pushed the door she had arrived in front of forward, forcing it open, and slamming it shut behind her, leaving Claire alone to digest the sudden revelation.

Sherry's... her daughter?

Faintly, in the back of her mind, she recalled the first thing Sherry had told her when they met in the power plant underneath the police station. The little girl had wanted Claire's help in finding her mother, who had been working for Umbrella, making 'important new medicine' according to the child herself. Annette's behavior baffled her, the scientist having been completely preoccupied documenting the destruction caused by the creature that had attacked them in the orphanage's basement. The younger Redfield's eyes narrowed suddenly, as Annette's earlier questions came back to her.

"William... She... She said William was the creature that caused this..." she whispered to herself, still very confused. It was very strange to label such a normal name to such a horrifying abomination like that.

And Sherry... Sherry called that monster... 'Daddy...'

Another horrible thought occurred to Claire then, making her eyes widen.

Did she know it was him, then? The whole time?... Did she know that the monster chasing her was her own father? The horror that child had been forced to endure in this disaster added more pain to the redhead's heart.

Swallowing shakily, she slowly turned back toward the elevator, not really wanting to, but knowing she had to, the pragmatic part of her simply wanting to deal with it despite the agonized part of her wishing to continue denying it. Trembling, she looked back up at Tony's impaled body, feeling fresh tears gather and fall from her eyes once more.

Staring at his motionless body didn't help with the grief rolling through her, and morbidly, she could see the two gaping, bloody holes in the front of his coat and shirt, where the monster known as William had run his claws through his back. Claire briefly wondered how he could have survived that, and the cold voice of reason numbly concluded one final burst of adrenaline from the young man had allowed him to follow after them as they came crashing down, only to meet his end once they finally reached the bottom.

Her hands cupped over her mouth again as another quaking sob slipped free, and she closed her eyes, wishing vainly that when she opened them, he'd somehow be free from his bloody impalements, alive and well, his handsome face giving her that cocky smirk she loved so much.

He can't be gone... He can't be... God, why did I ever come to this horrible place?! If I'd known this would happen, I never would have...! Another sob, and Claire found herself turning away from the dead man's body, even with her eyes shut, adding another barrier of denial between herself and the truth.

As she pushed back the grief - rejecting it - her mind began to drift back to a happier time. A normal time before she became surrounded by living death and monsters that should only exist in the worst of nightmares.

She latched onto that memory, letting herself drift away...


"So what's this flick called, again?" Tony's voice spoke up from behind her as she eased the tape into the VCR she had borrowed from one of the computer-typing classes, although she could hear just a faint lack of real focus on the question.

Part of her was wondering if he was currently admiring the rather flattering pair of bright red shorts she was wearing at the moment, rather brazenly displayed by her current kneeling position in front of the small television stand.

Feeling her face heat up just a bit, Claire kept her own tone of voice neutral as she replied, "Highlander."

At that, her beau scoffed suddenly. "I swear, if this is like one of those sappy romance novels Jessica reads all the time..."

For a moment, she was befuddled by his remark, until she realized he was talking about a typical 'bodice ripper' novella some women liked to read, with the covers usually displaying some hunk without a shirt, and a vixen about to slip out of it, the both of them passionately embracing. She stifled a laugh, pressing the play button on the video cassette player before holding down the fast forward button to skip through the trailers.

"It's nothing like those, trust me. You'll like the soundtrack, if nothing else," she assured him, standing back up when she reached the last part of the final trailer.

Turning around, she walked back over to Tony, who was currently laid out on her bed, wearing jeans and a black t-shirt, his platinum white locks shaggily covering part of his icy eyes, but she could feel his gaze now on her pink tank top - specifically on her chest - before speaking again.

"Oh yeah? Who made it?"

"Queen," she answered with a smile, sitting on the bed, and sidling up next to him.

The young man slipped his right arm over her shoulders to pull her in closer. At the mention of her favorite band, she could feel him rolling his eyes as he scoffed gently with a huffed chuckle. Claire resisted the urge to shoot him a look.

"Why am I not surprised?..."

As the opening of the film started on a black screen with red text, Sean Connery's deep, accented voice narrating it, she could feel Tony's fingers creeping down her arm, as softly as a spider's legs. She couldn't help the gentle shiver that bristled through her arm, her exposed skin breaking out in goosebumps. When that same hand fell towards her belly, the college girl felt her face flush again as his fingers began creeping upwards this time.

"Tonyyy..." she said in a half-warning, half-breathy tone.

"Yeeesss?..." he teasingly asked back, and she could picture that smirk she loved on his handsome face.

"Something tells me you're not paying attention to the movie," she retorted, unable to resist another pleasant shudder as his hand continued to creep higher up her chest.

He scoffed again before replying. "Dudes wrestling to some kickass rock? I'm payin' plenty of attention, babe... I'm just having a hard time keepin' my eyes off you."

And hands, apparently... she thought to herself, though not entirely rejecting him either.

Said hand was now officially just teasingly sliding his index finger along the undersides of her right breast, when it suddenly pivoted north, and was clutching the silver feather necklace charm he had given her on their last date. He rolled the charm between his fingers, chuckling softly at the sight.

"Oh? Still wearing this, I see."

Claire giggled playfully, snatching the necklace back, and turning to look up into Tony's face, feeling his arm slip around her waist this time. "Of course. Imagine my surprise when my usually tasteless boyfriend actually picks out a nice piece of jewelry for once."

He blinked at that, looking surprised. "Tasteless?! Moi?!"

Giving him a look, she tapped the rather large red gem of the gaudy accessory currently hanging around his neck. He rolled his eyes a second time before smirking down at her again, though this grin was different from his trademark cocky one he always wore. The young woman blinked, surprised to see how soft the man's expression had suddenly become.

"It was a gift."

His voice was as gentle as his current look... but before Claire could think to ask who had given it to him, the sudden sound of the movie picking up caught her beau's attention.

Tony glanced back at the TV and his eyes widened, his mouth opening in an excited grin as he exclaimed, "Holy crap, did that dude just whip out a broadsword?!"

The girl blinked, flinching when she felt her boyfriend's arm rip itself away from around her waist, the man leaning forward to watch as the star of the film, Christopher Lambert, drew his own sword from under his trench coat to challenge his blade-brandishing opponent.

"And that guy's got a katana?! Oh, baby, this movie just got a whole lot more interesting!"

The young woman balked, completely flabbergasted as her beau became fixated upon the sword duel happening in the film. With a bemused grin of her own, she cupped her fist under her jaw as she watched Tony whoop and holler with every exchange of sword strokes.

Well, at least he likes the movie... she concluded with a helpless shrug.

Next time she had the dorm room to herself to invite him over, though, she'd pick something he'd lose interest in.

That way, he'd keep his eyes on her...


Claire laughed softly as the memory faded, her eyes opening again. They were still brimming with tears, but they didn't fall as readily as before. Despite her failed attempt at seducing him - that time, at least - Tony had loved the movie and the soundtrack to it, so she considered it a win all the same. Chuckling again, wiping her eyes, her smile fell as she looked back up at his impaled body.

It was so strange seeing him like this, covered in blood and completely still. It was so... unlike him. Tony had always been brimming with energy, barely able to sit still sometimes, Claire had often found herself just struggling to keep up. And now... she was never going to see that arrogant grin of his again. Never watch another movie with him, hold him close to her, or feel his heart beating against his chest...

The tears fell, silently this time, as she found her mind drifting to what felt like ages ago, but was, in truth, only hours. She remembered her arrival at the station, the officer named Elliot's violent death, Marvin's firm guidance, and their final conversation as he begged her to leave, his fate sealed by a single bite from one of the undead to his side. Tony had lasted longer than both of them, but everyone she had met on this horrible venture into Raccoon City was now dead...

...Everyone... except Sherry, her mind whispered.

Her last faint memory of the little girl was that of her running off, the howl of the monster that had taken the life of her lover booming moments later, followed by the heavy stomps of its feet as it followed after the terrified child. The collegiate girl wasn't sure how long she had been unconscious before Annette's arrival, but she could only hope Sherry had found someplace to hide from the creature she had once called her father.

Steeling herself, Claire decided then and there that she would find the little girl, wherever she was, and get her away from this nightmare.

She had failed Elliot, Marvin, and Tony... but she was not going to fail Sherry.

With that decided, the girl was about to turn and follow after Annette through the door she vanished through when a faint glimmer of silver drew her attention back to Tony's body. Blinking, she slowly walked up to the smashed rubble of the elevator cart, her pained gaze falling on the youth's bloody face for a moment, before the woman's gaze fell. There, hanging limply around his neck, was that silver charm with a large ruby engraved in its center.

She stared at the necklace for a long moment, before forcing herself to look back at the man's face. With a choked sob, she reached both of her hands around the back of his neck, finding the latch on the necklace.

As she unhooked it, she whispered to her deceased lover, "I'm sorry... I'm so sorry I couldn't protect you, like you always protected me..."

Pulling the necklace off the dead youth's body, Claire slipped it around her own neck, surprised by the heft of the large gem. Giving him a pained smile, she cupped his cheek, uncaring of the dried blood, but was partially surprised by how warm his skin still was. Gazing at his face one last time, committing every inch of him to memory, she placed a long, soft kiss on his forehead before pulling back, her grey blue eyes closing as more tears began to spill before speaking again, her voice trembling with grief.

"But I promise to carry you with me for the rest of my life... Goodbye, Anthony... I love you..."

She backed away from his body, quickly turning before opening her eyes again, a shudder of anguish rippling through her... when her teary eyes fell on the floor, spotting smaller footprints traced in the dust from the debris of the ruined elevator, followed by larger tracks, both leading to a broken section of the floor where a safety rail had also been rent apart.

Blinking, walking towards the damaged railing, Claire peered down into the heavy shadows below, and could spot a light ahead in the passage below. Briefly looking over to the door Annette had vanished through, the college student glanced back down before hoisting herself, and dropping below into the darkened pathway.

As she began moving through the corridor, her voice could be heard as she called out, "Sherry?! Can you hear me?!"

Silence, followed by a splash.

Then, the few lights still working suddenly flickered, briefly casting the room in total darkness.

When they returned, the heavy footfalls of the darkly-dressed man known only as Gilver to all unfortunate enough to cross his path echoed in the room, his cold, sapphire eyes briefly gazing at the broken railing where the younger Redfield had vanished into, before falling on the red-clad swordsman's still body hanging pierced on various broken rebar and piping.

Slipping his free hand into his pocket, the bandaged enigma shook his head as he observed the poor state of Redgrave's 'corpse.'

"Tony, Tony, Tony... Just look at what's become of you... A mangled, powerless carcass. And all because of some woman. A human... Ridiculous."

As he continued to watch Tony's body, his eyes fell on the man in red's limp right hand, where blood was beginning to drop from the tips of his index and middle fingers.

Below that hand, buried partially under the rubble and ruin of metal and brick, the crimson droplets fell on the skull face engraved on the hilt of Woozy. As soon as they struck the metal of the blade, the blood vanished into the dark steel, seemingly drunk by the metal. From the sockets of the skull, sparks of red energy crackled and discharged, striking the dead man's fingers.

The effect was instantaneous.

The hand spasmed once, all five fingers stretching out... before slowly clenched into a tight fist.

Gilver's eyes narrowed as he watched a few cuts on the 'dead' man's face began to shrink and fade away...

Then the gauze crinkled around the corners of his mouth, his sneer returning as a spark of excitement flashed through his eyes.

Soon...


The darkened corridor ended in another edge leading to another drop into another area below, where Claire could hear liquid rushing and gurgling. There was also a foul odor almost as bad as the rotting meat stink of the undead in the city above choking the air, only worse in its own way. It reeked of mold, mildew, urine, and excrement all mixed together in a noxious miasma threatening to choke her every time she inhaled, regardless if it was through her open mouth or nose.

In her emotional state, the young college student had forgotten she was now in the city's sewer system.

With her flashlight, Claire was able to peer over the edge, and saw it dropped down into a sluice filled with foul-looking and smelling brownish-yellow liquid, which she knew was only partially water at this point. Turning the light off and slipping it back into her pouch, the pink-vested girl stood up, inhaling deeply, trying to ignore the foul odor coming from the sewage below her. Then, she quickly moved forward, hopping down into the disgusting wastewater with a small splash.

Upon feeling her bare legs completely covered by the slimy, cold water - all the way up to her hips, with more of it sliding into her boots - the young woman gagged and fought back the urge to vomit. Those disgusting sensations, along with the now-overpowering stench, almost overwhelmed her. Swallowing once, then again, managing to keep her gorge down, Claire pulled out her flashlight and flicked it back on, beginning to trudge through the disgusting water.

"Now, I'm gonna smell like shit- literally..." she murmured to herself in a feeble attempt to vent her disgusted frustrations, and to break the heavy silence not even the lapping wastewater could rise over.

Behind her was a literal waterfall of the stuff, while just a few feet to her left, past a large mound of various clumps of garbage and waste, was a raised ledge. And while Redfield was extremely eager to climb it and out of the filthy water she was wading through, she stopped just short of it when she saw the doorway it was connected to was shuttered off by a closed gate, with no door handle or any other means of opening it visible to her, save a rusty valve painted a fading light blue, with a red and white diagram displaying which direction to turn it with a long, t-shaped tool she didn't have.

Moving away from the ledge and past several more mounds and piles of garbage, the girl saw the path ahead of her was blocked off by a lowered gate, but there was an open passage to her right with nothing obstructing her way, as far as she could see. Keeping her light raised with her left hand, she drew her revolver with her right, her finger readily on the trigger, just in case. Easing down the darkened passage, Claire spotted another raised ledge to her left, while a large open sewage pipe situated into the wall on her left continued to leak and pour more of the disgusting sludge into the already filthy wastewater.

Peering up and down the new ledge, she saw a small corridor leading to a stairway to the left, and with much relief, hoisted herself onto the ledge and out of the filthy sewer water. She took a moment to take her boots off and pour the wastewater that had slipped into them, once again fighting the urge to vomit as she did. Reluctantly sliding the boots back on, ignoring the discomforting sensation of her soaked socks squelching against the wet leather, the young woman decided then and there that she was going to throw all the clothes she had worn to Raccoon City into an industrial burner once she escaped the city. She'd try to salvage the vest if she could, but she was never wearing these again if she could help it.

Moving down the corridor and up the small flight of stairs to arrive at a new door, Claire opened it, stepping into a new open space, the air smelling of machinery and oil, but thankfully the foul smells of the sewer hadn't seemed to leak in. Grateful to inhale what was better-smelling, if not entirely clean air, the biker girl blinked, lowering her flashlight, and flicking it off when she spotted the huge metal car the size of a small trolley situated over the new stairway she stood on. Slipping the light back into her pack, she started up the stairs slowly, her eyes looking over the car as she did.

"Cable car... Here?" she asked herself aloud as she reached the top of the stairs, a small alcove with a ladder now in front of her.

She ignored the ladder for the moment, continuing to look at the tram car before glancing down, spotting a set of tables and various tools scattered around and atop them.

Looking back at the cable car, Claire wondered why such a thing had been built under Raccoon City, in the city's sewers, of all places. Umbrella, she concluded. But for what purpose?

And could it potentially get her - and Sherry, once she found her - out of the city?

There was only one way to find out, and that was finding the little girl, and getting to the trolley.

Facing the ladder, the woman holstered her revolver before beginning the climb. In a moment, she was at the top, on a small railing overlooking the floor below, facing another door. There was a grating window installed on the door, letting her peer inside, her grey-blue eyes squinting as she peered into the shadow-filled office on the opposite side of the door-

-when a dirty, rotting face lunged at the grating, causing Claire to flinch back a step and bump into the railing behind her. The zombie beat against the door, but this one was made of a sturdy metal and hardly budged. After a moment, the ghoul snarled and staggered away, and as it did, the pink-vested girl heard a second lower groan as well.

Zombies. Of course... she bitterly thought to herself.

The disease Umbrella had allowed to run rampant above the city had infected the sewer workers, and any other unfortunate soul seeking solitude from the Hell above. Reaching for her revolver, drawing the small sidearm out, Redfield did a quick check on the chamber, confirming it was fully loaded, then inhaled deeply, steeling herself.

Moving quickly, she charged through the door, handgun raised. The two ghouls had wandered further into the room, and just as the first was turning towards the sound of the sudden noise, the redhead squeezed off two shots, each bullet hitting the back of the zombie's head. Blood splattered on its fellow undead as it completed its own turn, the corpse of the first colliding against it, causing it to stumble as it attempted to lurch forward, giving her ample time to target its face and fire off a single round, which struck its filmy eye, and caused the back of the head to explode in a rain of dark gore. Hearing movement behind her, the young crack shot spun around, and spotted a heavyset male zombie staggering up from where it had previously lain up against a control panel.

Quickly sighting its head, the woman fired the last two bullets from her revolver, both striking the zombie's forehead. With a gurgling groan, it promptly collapsed back against the panel limply. Backing up, opening the .38's chamber to tip the expended cartridges out, Claire quickly reloaded her handgun, but none of the three bodies showed any signs of trying to get back up again.

Reaching the large glass pane that dominated the other side of the room, the girl tried to peer through it, and saw this office was overlooking a kind of pool chamber situated in the lower floor. Frowning, she looked away from the window, and when she saw all three zombies were truly dead for good, she decided to give her current inventory a look over before proceeding.

She still had all nine millimeter parabellum rounds she had collected from the station. About thirty rounds total - not counting what she had just reloaded into the .38 - as well as the grenade launcher slung over her shoulder, which was loaded with the second-to-last round, the final napalm shell for it still in her pouch. The heavy revolver Tony had given her was still holstered on her other thigh, fully loaded, with the six spare cartridges in a separate pocket on her pouch...

Drat. She had lost the sub-machine gun taken from the S.T.A.R.S. armory, more than likely during the elevator crash.

Not too great... But not too hopeless, either, she concluded.

There were zombies down here, probably more than just the ones in the office, but hopefully not as many as there had been in the police station back above in the city. She was going to have to make every shot count from here on out. If there were other things down here, things as bad as the skinless inside-out monsters like back at the station...

The collegiate girl stopped that train of thought, wanting to avoid it until the possibility became too strong to ignore or deny.

Moving to the left corner of the room, past a small table with a computer and files scattered atop it, as well as some lockers next to the table, Claire spotted an opening in the floor, blocked off by a small metal railing next to the locker's side, the opening itself in the furthest corner of the meeting point of the walls. Getting closer and peering down it, she saw it dropped into a broken lift cart, where she could see small electric sparks discharging. But there were more lights illuminating the room it led down to.

Holstering her revolver, the woman dropped down onto the cart before descending through the open front of the lift into the new room, landing with a low crouch. Rising back to her feet, Claire's grey-blue eyes scanned the new open area: a control room of some kind, by the look of it, with a series of windows lining the wall immediately in front of her.

Frowning, and wary of any more undead that could be lurking in the shadows to her far right, she stepped further in, asking herself, "What is this?"

Before she could ponder her question any further, the biker girl's ears caught a voice, sounding filtered but close by.

"Sherry... I told you, I cannot leave here until my work is done."

The college student recognized the voice, belonging to the female scientist she had met only a short while ago: Annette. But Claire blinked as she heard a second voice reply to her.

"That's what you always say..."

The voice was much younger compared to Annette's, and filled with a bitterness no child should ever feel, but Redfield recognized the second speaker all the same.

"Sherry?" she uttered aloud in hope.

Moving quickly in front of the windows where the voices were emitting from, the young woman found herself peering down into a large space situated at least one level below from where she was currently standing. It was filled with piles of garbage and other litter, but there, standing by a relatively cleaner spot, was Sherry.

The relief Claire felt upon seeing the little girl safe and looking unharmed was brief, drowned out by her mother's cold words snapping from the intercom in the upper wall, situated next to a camera.

"Why didn't you stay in the house?! It was safe there!"

Giving the intercom an incredulous glare, Claire quickly looked back at Sherry, calling for her. "Hey! Sherry!"

The younger girl either did not hear her, or more than likely could not because of the glass between them, the frantic Redfield's calls being unable to pass through the soundproof barrier.

The blonde child looked pleadingly up at the camera as she spoke again, tone frightened and hurt. "I was scared. Those things were everywhere, a-and-"

"You should've called the police! That's what we taught you," Annette's voice yelled through the intercom over Sherry's much lower words, filled with impatience and disdain, and Claire felt her heart break as she heard the child sniffle and struggle to keep from breaking down as she desperately went on.

"I did, but nobody came! And you didn't answer your phone-" she pleaded with her parent, but a sudden exasperated sigh stopped Sherry's quivering voice.

"Sherry... I don't have time for this!"

And then, to Claire's dawning horror and righteous fury, the small red light on the wall-mounted camera flickered out, and the college girl knew that meant Annette had killed the feed, effectively ending the conversation, leaving her frightened daughter to stand alone in the garbage pit she was hiding in. But all that fury died as she watched Sherry suddenly fall to her knees before collapsing on her side, eyes closed, her young face scrunched up in obvious pain.

"Oh no... Sherry!" she called out, smacking her fists against the window, which refused to so much as even shake from her strikes. "Sherry, I'm coming!"

Turning away from the windows, the woman ran for the shadowed corner of the room, searching for the door that would take her to the level below and get to the child-

-when she froze in her steps at the sight of the huge vault door, not unlike the kind one would see at a bank, while a series of what appeared to be electric power panels were situated on the wall connected to the door, as well as the one opposite of it. Blinking, staring at the sight in utter disbelief, Claire ran to the door, looking it over for some kind of means of opening it, but finding none, the giant slab of steel refusing to even budge when she pushed against it.

Unable to control her ever-mounting frustrations, the furious young woman slammed her fists against the vault door and screamed, "Are you FUCKING KIDDING ME?!"

Panting, feeling like she was on the verge of tears once again, the college girl inhaled deeply several times, composing herself slowly but surely. She had to rein in her emotions. The last time she had allowed herself to become overwhelmed by her concern for Sherry, she had nearly been killed. She just needed to calm down, and find a way to open this door.

Still breathing deeply, Claire stepped back from the door, and turned to her right to get a better look at the dimly lit part of the monitor area she was in. When she looked at the power panels lining the wall next to the vault door, she paused, brow furrowing. The panels were all open, and long, white objects were sticking out of them...

Walking closer, the pink-vested girl blinked as she realized what she was staring at. "What in the...? Are these... chess pieces?"

Indeed, there were two large electronic plugs sticking out of two of the power panels, the one closest to her bearing a bishop at its tip, and the one to the far right marked by the white horse of a knight. Turning, she looked at the three panels across from the ones she had just examined, and saw that only one was occupied, the panel aligned with the one with the bishop plug, only the plug on this one was a lowly pawn.

Looking back and forth between the set of power panels, Claire saw that the middle one on the wall closest to the door was empty, and the two across from the knight and said empty spot were missing their plugs as well. The biker girl knew very little about chess, but she could see that the rook, king, and queen pieces were the ones missing.

That vault's locked up tight, and these panels are missing their own plugs... There's a connection. I'm sure of it, she thought to herself.

Spotting some papers and notes strewn about on a raised section along the wall furthest from the power panels, the college girl quickly approached it, and began rifling through them, looking for anything that could give her an idea as to where to start looking for the missing plugs, or even an inkling of their purpose. Upon finding a pamphlet from a company called 'Knights Construction Company,' and after briefly glancing inside to confirm her suspicions that the plugs were a part of some elaborate locking mechanism, Claire felt her heart leap into her throat when she found a map of the sewers, which at this point may as well been the Holy Grail itself. Quickly snatching it up and moving into the better lit portion of the monitor room, she spread the map out over a control panel and began poring over its contents.

There has to be a storage room or utility area where they keep spare plugs for this vault. There just has to be! she thought desperately.

When she checked the upper section's layout, she grinned when she saw someone had circled a spot along a wall, and written the word 'rook' in it.

Yes! There must be more panels scattered around, and they'll have the other plugs!

She desperately didn't want to leave Sherry alone again, but the rational part of her mind argued that the girl wasn't going anywhere, and was relatively safe for the moment. Going over the last portion of the map, which was the lower level of the sewer, Claire felt like her luck was turning around when she spotted a Supplies Storage Room connected to the bottom sewer level, and written in a loopy scrawl under the box outlining the storage room were the words 'spare plugs kept here.'

The relief she felt was almost indescribable. It would take a bit of a while to collect all three plugs, perhaps the most being an hour or more. And while she loathed leaving the child alone again, especially considering she had no idea why the little girl had fallen unconscious like she had, the young woman knew she had no choice if she meant to save her.

Unlike her mother, who had 'no time for this,' Claire reminded herself angrily.

If she saw that woman in the flesh again, Redfield was certain she'd throttle the life out of her...

Going over the map once again, the college student saw that the fastest way to collect all the plugs would be to leave the Monitor Room she was in now, and from the Water Treatment Pool Room next to it, descend back to the middle section of the sewers where she had first arrived, and take a small lift through the gated door she had passed. Frowning, the redhead remembered that the door had been locked securely, and she needed some kind of valve to unlock it. She would just have to check the Treatment Pool Room for anything that could be useful in helping her get around that door.

Nodding, moving away from the maps, the biker girl moved back towards the windows lining the wall, and gazed sadly down at Sherry. The blonde little girl was still curled up on her side, and Claire could still see the scrunched, pained expression contorting her young face.

"Hold on, Sherry... I'll be right there, I promise..." she whispered.

Steeling her shoulders and moving away from the windows, the auburn-haired cyclist headed for the other door that would take her to the Treatment Pool Room, drawing her revolver as she did. Stepping through the door and into the new area, the woman was almost overwhelmed by the powerful chemical aroma filtering about, but after the foul stenches of the sewer and the rotting cesspool Raccoon City had become above, it was almost a relief.

Seeing a large platform had been raised between the section of the floor she was currently standing on, and the one across where she needed to go, Claire quickly found the lever to lower it back down, and with a hard tug, pulled the switch back. The raised platform began to descend, creating a bridge she could cross to the other side. The college student walked a little ways forward as the platform continued to descend, when she caught something colored red laying atop some crates piled in the corner.

Unable to believe her luck, Claire saw it was the very same t-bar shaped valve handle she would need to unlock the gate blocking her off from the lift to the upper section of the sewers.

"I'd say my luck is turning around, but that's not saying much since coming to this city..." she muttered to herself, picking up the valve as the platform bridge finished descending. The key was heavy, but just small enough to fit snugly in the extra pack she had found in the police station storage room, though it dragged her down just a bit.

Crossing the bridge, revolver held low at her side when she spotted a still corpse situated in a corner parallel to the bridge, but well away from the door she needed to go through. Entering through it, Claire arrived in a descending staircase that would take her back to the middle level of the sewers... though she paused at the top when she saw not one, but two swaying shadows just slightly standing away from the base of the bottom of the steps.

"Of course..." she mused to herself.

She would take care of this quickly but calmly. She wasn't going to let herself get cornered again like in the kennel back at the station.

Thinking of that dark room, and the darkly-dressed swordsman who had called himself Gilver, made the young woman descend the stairs just a tad bit faster than she had planned, but as soon as she was at the bottom, she raised her handgun and squeezed off two shots at the back of the head of the first ghoul, then two more for the one in overalls that had begun to turn towards her. Both bodies crumpled into bloody heaps, and Claire stepped over them for another control panel along the wall.

Pulling it down caused the gate cutting her off from the earlier sluice she had waded through to rise up, giving her a clear shot to the small ledge ahead where she would need to use the t-bar valve to unlock the gate. It was less than thirty to forty feet away. A quick walk, even with the waist-high sewage to slow her down... but for some reason, Claire found she couldn't move all of a sudden.

Peering down into the sluice, she couldn't help but feel that something was... off. But she couldn't tell for certain what it was, or see any obvious danger. Glancing down at the nasty wastewater, she saw the ripples from the gate rising up were already settling, the dirty water going still once again, so there wasn't anything moving under the water's surface... which was a horrifying thought she wished had never occurred to her.

Inhaling deeply through her mouth, the young woman eased herself back into the sewage waters, keeping her revolver raised slightly in front of her, both hands clasping the handle tightly. She would slog quickly through this filthy wastewater, and be on her way to collect the first plug, leaving whatever was giving her goosebumps behind down here where it belonged. With that decided, Claire began wading forward, her eyes scanning over every mound of garbage and waste for anything that might be lurking under the filth, waiting to strike out-

-and as she passed a large, open sewage pipe emerging from the wall, an ungodly growl issued from deep inside, the sound making the suddenly-startled girl freeze up, her grey-blue eyes snapping towards the source. Eyes widening, the young woman could only begin to feebly back away when three large mounds of flesh grasped the corner of the pipe, just as something pulled itself free from the pipe in a gush of sewage. Claire did not get a good look at it, only knowing for sure that whatever it was, it was much, much bigger than her.

The biker had only managed to take two or three forced steps back when the sewage water in front of the pipe exploded as the huge creature emerged from the filthy wastewater. Redfield could only stare in wide-eyed terror at this new creature. Its left shoulder was covered in a disgusting mound of tumorous-looking flesh, while its connecting arm was a huge slab of meat with gripping appendages where a person's fingers would be, the small domed head attached to a long, prehensile neck that extended out as the creature's snake-like face seemed to grin maliciously down on her.

"What the FUCK?!" she cried out, horrified by this grotesque new monster.

Claire continued to try and back up, never even thinking to try to use her revolver or the grenade launcher over her shoulder, this new monstrosity filling her with such terror that she never considered to fight, only flight. To escape from this abomination before she learned the hard way what it was capable of doing.

But the beast was faster. Much faster than her.

Its massive left arm shot out, its huge hand encompassing her entire waist as it snatched her, lifting her up so that her feet no longer had any solid footing beneath them, and pulled her close to its hideous, sneering face.

Claire screamed and struggled, quickly holstering her gun in panic to slap both of her hands against the massive mitt clutching her, when her eyes glanced back up and saw the horrible face split open, like some obscene flower made of flesh, a long second mouth opening from inside it, where hundreds of maggots began to spill out into the sewage underneath it, the maw beginning to close in on her own face.

Completely overcome with terror, the trapped, helpless girl screamed in a pitch louder than she had ever cried out before-

-when something crimson collided with the creature's face with such force that the beast was knocked back almost a dozen feet. It happened so fast, the monster ended up letting its ginormous swollen arm fall back into the water, dragging the young woman under with it.

Claire's lips were pressed tightly together as she was submerged, closed shut as she held her breath for dear life. Writhing in its claw, she mustered all the strength she could to tear herself free of the abomination's clutches, legs kicking and flailing about as she did. Bubbles escaped her nostrils in an effort to keep the sewer water out of her lungs as she glided along with the creature, feeling it forced back by whatever adversary had attacked it.

Suddenly, the biker girl felt her body jerk upwards with the limb, bringing her head slightly back above the surface. Sputtering for air, Claire could only manage to make out a brief glance at the shadowed figure tearing her current captor apart, the water getting in her face and eyes blurring her vision. A horrible, shrill screeching began to issue from the monster, followed by the sounds of metal swinging through the air, and the slick squelching of flesh being rendered to shreds. Feeling the limb holding her begin to shift, Redfield took a sharp, deep breath as the monster submerged her again.

Shook left and right, it took some effort on the girl's part to not let too much air out when the creature pinned her to the bottom of the sewer. Hands pushing against the floor, Claire wildly reached for her side, blindly pulling out the first weapon she could feel, mentally sighing in victory when she pulled out the knife Marvin had given her all those hours ago.

Without pause, she dug the blade into the beast's arm, yanking it out and doing so again when she felt no reaction. Redfield could feel shudders from the beast as she brought her knife down, but couldn't stop herself from panicking as she realized the creature still hadn't let go of her, especially when her chest started to burn...

Suddenly, as if in response to her thoughts, the arm went totally slack, Claire no longer feeling its enlarged digits pressing against her waist. Wasting no time, she peeled herself from the hand, twisting around so that the floor was beneath her, and then dragging herself away from the beast as fast as she could.

The girl swam as swiftly as she could, as far as she could, until she could hold her breath no more, bubbles forcing themselves out of her mouth and nose as she practically pushed against the floor of the sewer with both hands to shoot for the surface.

Scrambling up from under the water with a sharp gasp, the soaked girl then briefly twisted around to glance back at the spot where the monster had been sent, wiping the damp, auburn bangs away from her face, and saw glowing orange fluid - its blood - was pouring out of dozens of cuts as something gleaming darkly cut into the mutated, bulbous flesh again and again. She also noticed how it was now missing its entire left large arm, explaining why she was able to escape its clutches.

Not wanting to see anymore, Claire dragged herself towards the ledge, ignoring the pained screams of the monster, frantically sheathing her knife, and reaching for her side pack where she had placed the t-bar valve when the shrill screeching finally ceased with a weak, dying cry, followed by a heavy splash, and the beast's death throes cut off by another splash... followed by another, and another as whatever had killed the monster began to approach her.

Collapsing against the wall, the young woman weakly raised her dripping revolver, her hands shaking as she could only imagine what kind of evil could kill such a creature so quickly, which would now turn its attention to her...

And then she saw exactly what had killed that monster as it slowly stepped into view.

Her eyes widened, brimming tears beginning to fall once again, the hands holding her handgun going limp, the firing arm falling with a soft clatter.

It couldn't be... It just couldn't!... But the proof stood directly in front of her.

With a trembling voice, she whispered a single name.

"T... T-T-Tony?!"


"Another day, another dollar. Another job, another broken gun... And another half of my pay swiped by Enzo's greedy fat ass."

After working for him as long as he had, the man known as Tony Redgrave to the mercenary patronage of the underworld dive bar known as Bobby's Cellar was rather used to Enzo Ferino running off with the loot. Didn't mean it wasn't annoying, but he knew that little wannabe Italian like the back of his hand at this point. And after any major job, there was one place you could always find Enzo tossing around Benjamins like leaves falling from a tree.

With a bemused smirk, the young merc glanced up at the glowing pink neon sign brightly displaying the name of Enzo's favorite stripper joint, Love Planet, across the street for all to see. Tony himself wasn't a patron of this particular club - mostly because they didn't serve his favorite treat - but he had found the diminutive informant here enough times, the workers basically thought of him as a regular.

The man in red walked towards the door, wondering to himself which girl was performing for Enzo tonight, and was about to shove the door itself open when the rumbling engine of a Harley caught his attention.

Turning his icy blue eyes away from the door, Redgrave saw said motorcycle pulling up in front of the Bullseye Bar across from Love Planet. The youth arched a fine white brow as his gaze drank in the motorcycle's rider.

Hel-lo, baby!... he thought to himself as his jaw slacked a slight bit.

He was used to seeing the burly, roughneck types on bikes in this part of town, but the rider of this Harley was a much more aesthetically pleasing compared to them.

This rider was a lithe woman wrapped rather nicely in tight jeans, knee-high brown leather riding boots, with a wicked black leather jacket with stylized flames along the arms, and black riding gloves. As the leather-clad biker rose from her vehicle, she reached up for her helmet and pulled it off. Tony actually felt his heart skip a beat when he watched the girl's long auburn hair fall out, pulled tightly into a high tail. Despite the rather serious, somewhat annoyed, and intense expression on her lovely face, it did nothing to dissuade him that she was perhaps one of the most beautiful women he had ever had the pleasure of laying his eyes on.

A redhead, huh? he thought to himself with a grin, his hands slipping into the pockets of his jacket.

Red just happened to be his favorite color.

The babe in leather never even looked his way, seeming to be entirely focused on the doors to the bar in front of her. She stormed for them quickly, disappearing shortly after.

Disappointed to see such a lovely visage leave so soon, Tony glanced back towards the doors of Love Planet, before turning back to the direction of the Bullseye Bar, rubbing his chin in thought.

"...Eh, he's not goin' anywhere," he mused to himself.

Enzo could wait a few more minutes.

Moving away from the entrance to Love Planet, the young crimson-coated man followed the redheaded biker at a leisurely pace. Judging by the look on her face, she seemed to be in a bad mood. Maybe offering to buy her a drink would help brighten her up?...

Pushing the doors to the Bullseye open, Tony strode inside, giving the bartender a nod that the man didn't even acknowledge aside from a slight glare. The pale-haired merc turned away from the front of the counter to look over by the tables nestled in the far back. Lo and behold, there was his redheaded maiden in black leather, who just so happened to be supporting some red-faced blonde chick as they tried to ditch three rather large and unsavory-looking gentlemen; the more average type of patrons one expected at a bar like Bullseye.

He hovered close to the bar, content to just sit back and watch for the moment. There was just the faintest hint of tension in the air, and one wrong move on his part could set the whole thing alight. Better to play it by ear-

-and then one of the large men wrapped a meaty paw around the redhead's wrist.

Big mistake.

In a flourish of black, the redhead's left leg shot out, nailing the first meathead square in the face, and even from almost twenty feet away, the youth heard a rather satisfying *crunch* of cartilage breaking. The first guy pitched backwards, knocking one of his buddies over while the stupefied third wheel tried to lunge at the lethal, leather-wearing vixen, shouting a rather ungentlemanly-like curse at her. Her response was a fitting two-hit combo, followed by a devastating spin kick that gave Tony a rather flattering view of her backside.

Ooh, girl's got some moves! he thought to himself in delight, rubbing his chin as he watched the show with rapt pleasure. Most other guys would have tried to intervene by now, but the white-haired gunslinger could easily tell the biker girl had the situation under control.

And then the first creep she knocked on his ass scrambled back up, blood gushing down his crushed nose as a small object in one hand flashed silver. The telltale sign of a switchblade.

Aaaaand that's my cue, the laid-back merc thought to himself.

It was all fun and games until someone poked an eye out.

The young woman had backed up a step, moving her left arm in front of the other blonde girl in a gesture of protection. But by the time the thug with the knife had taken a single menacing step towards the two young women, Tony had cleared the distance from where he had been watching the brawl, his own gloved hand snatching the wrist of the knife holder in that same instant.

"Didn't your mother ever tell you not to play with knives?" he chided the dumbfounded brute before his other hand struck out, a single punch - more like a light tap, really - striking the guy square in the chest, and sending him flying to the wall hard, where he crumpled to the floor with a whimper, his knife landing point-first on the floor.

Sneering at the downed thug, the young man turned his icy gaze onto his two friends, who were quivering in their boots as they stared back. It was almost hilarious how these two much larger-looking men were scared shitless of the red-clad youth who had just knocked their buddy flat on his ass with a single punch.

Wagging a finger in a mock scolding manner, he chided the terrified duo, "Remember, boys, it ain't nice to put your hands on a lady without her consent."

Then his gaze narrowed into a glare, his smirk vanishing.

"Now unless you want a personal refresher on why you should never pull this kinda crap around here again, I suggest you get while the gettin's good," he ordered, all cheeky mockery gone, his tone as ice cold as his eyes.

That was all the warning they needed, the two chumps dashing through the connecting doors to Love Planet, leaving their companion unconscious where he lay.

Tony scoffed, unimpressed but thoroughly amused. "Wimps..."

Behind him, the blonde screeched in glee. "THAT WASS SHOOO COOOOOOLLL!"

The crimson-coated merc turned and saw the blonde girl was jumping up and down, waving her arms while the redhead was staring in a kind of stunned awe, much to his delight.

Closing his eyes and shrugging casually, he replied easily, "Eh. They weren't so tough."

"I had that under control, you know," the more sober of the two girls spoke up suddenly, her voice leveled, but Tony could easily hear that undertone of annoyance.

Ah, the type that doesn't need rescuing, he realized.

She did have the situation under wraps, but a knife being whipped out made the odds more than a little unfair for her.

Meeting her glare with an easy smile and affirming nod, the snowy-haired youth agreed easily, "Yeah, you did, actually. That's a pretty sweet kick you've got there. But when I saw him whip out that puny excuse of a knife, well... I had to do the gentlemanly thing, and get in on the action. Didn't wanna risk him nicking that pretty face of yours, now."

Seeing her blink and her cheeks flush a pretty shade of pink made her earlier annoyance at him all worth it.

The blonde, who Tony could tell had had more than a few too many drinks with how red her face was, promptly jumped onto the other girl in an exuberant hug with a giggle. "Oooh, Claire-Bear, yer sho cute when you blush!"

Claire, huh?... the youth thought to himself, liking the sound of the girl's name.

Unable to keep his own smirk from returning, he added in a low tone, "Glad to see I ain't the only one who thinks so."

His icy orbs met the redhead's, Claire's, own lovely grey-blue eyes, and to his pleasure, her cheeks went from pink to beet red. It was his favorite color, after all...

"Okay, fun time's over!" she suddenly exclaimed, escaping her friend's hold, and snatching the blonde girl's wrist before beginning to drag her towards the exit, continuing to speak while she did so. "As exciting as this all was, we still have class in the morning. And no, you're not skipping out again just because you'll be hungover."

"But I wanna shee the pretty guy flirt wichu mooore!" the other girl whined, and Redgrave had to resist the urge to burst out laughing at her whiny tone of voice, his eyes glinting mischievously when he saw Claire's cheeks flush a deep crimson.

Letting out a few chuckles while slipping his left hand into his jacket's pocket, the young man hooked his right thumb over his shoulder, indicating the doors to Love Planet before speaking again. "Much as I'd love to stay and do just that, I'm afraid business beckons."

His eyes caught Claire's again, and judging by the look she was giving him, that was probably the wrong thing to say.

Crap! Salvage, salvage! his mind screamed at him.

"But, hey, uh..." he said quickly, resisting the urge to wince at the stutter in his voice.

Time to make his pitch. And after that, it was Claire-Bear's call.

"If you've got any free time tomorrow, I'd love to treat you to lunch."

There, he said it. Having looks made it easy to draw the ladies in, but Redgrave would easily admit his luck with women wasn't exactly the best...

The leather-clad biker girl blinked at his offer, her lapse allowing her drunken friend to sidle up to her and loudly whisper, "Do iiiiiiiit, gurrl! He did juss shave yer life..."

Well, at least I've got someone rootin' for me, he thought to himself, his grin returning.

"And a pretty close shave, at that."

Claire's expression softened just ever so slightly, and the white-haired youth could tell she was considering it. An extra push would either make or break her decision. Tony always considered his luck rotten, but damn if he didn't love to gamble, so he was putting all his chips on this next line.

"C'mon. I'll make it worth your while," he implored, tilting his head to the side with an amiable smirk. "I guarantee the place'll be way less shadier than this dump. I'll even throw in a strawberry sundae for your troubles... Whaddya say?"

Who could resist a strawberry sundae? Next to pizza, it was the best snack in the whole damn world!

The young woman gave him one final look over, her expression unreadable, and for a moment, the young mercenary was certain his gamble had failed.

Then she met his gaze again, smiling softly. "...Alright, hotshot... I get out of class at 2."

Like when he had first laid eyes on her, the young man felt his heart quicken again, this time in excited victory. Unable to help himself, he let out a victorious laugh, his right fist pumping through the air.

"Yes! You won't regret it, I promise! I know this great place called Fredi's. Trust me, you'll love their-" he stated in a rush, when another voice spoke over his own.

"That's all well and dandy..." a new voice interrupted, a deeper, gruffer one. Tony's words stopped as he and the two women looked towards the origin of the voice, spotting the lone bartender watching them with an angered expression.

"But who's gonna pay for that table and the broken glasses?!" he demanded, indicating said table and piles of broken glasses behind the trio.

Oh yeah. Forgot all about that, Redgrave thought to himself with a chuckle while extending his hand towards the barkeep.

"Ah, put it on Enzo's tab. You know he's good for it."

The bartender scoffed, resuming his glass washing, but nodded, seemingly satisfied.

Speakin' of which, better go grab my pay 'fore Enzo uses that for coverage, Tony decided. He didn't want to end the conversation with Claire so soon, but he still had tomorrow to look forward to.

Looking back at both women, he dismissed himself. "And with that, ladies, I'll see ya around."

His gaze lingered on Claire for another moment before he turned and strode for the doors to Love Planet.

Behind him, the redhead's voice called after him, "Wait! I didn't give you my name-"

"Already know it, 'Claire-Bear,'" he called back, and he couldn't resist the grin from forming as he easily imagined her blushing once again.

Right as he reached the door, the biker girl called for him again. "Well, you know mine, but I don't know yours."

That made him stop, and he had to resist the urge to smack himself for not giving the girl his name.

Smooth, Redgrave. Smooth... he thought to himself, his smile returning as he turned to face her.

"...Anthony. Anthony Redgrave. But you can call me Tony."

He hated giving out his full name, and he usually never did... But there was something about this girl that made him lax up on that little rule for once.

With that done, he turned and pushed the doors open, leaving the two young women behind as he stepped into the brighter new room, his ears assaulted by the generic sultry pop music most party girls liked to dance to.

Now to find that fat little Italian wannabe, and get his money...

He'd need it for his date tomorrow, after all, unable to help his excited grin.


"Well, you certainly know how to pick an interesting place," Claire murmured as she took the seat opposite of his own, his favorite booth in the far back of the 50s-style diner that was his favorite place to pick up lunch outside of Bobby's.

Tony Redgrave grinned at her words as he reclined on the comfortable seat, his icy eyes glancing over his date to take in the usual sites of the diner.

It was a little more packed than he was used to, several other booths across from their own occupied, as well as a few seats at the bar were filled as well, but he supposed that was to be expected, given the time. He liked to come earlier if he could, but today was an exception.

Looking back at his date, the young man replied, "Told ya it'd be less shady than that dump from last night."

That got a small chuckle from the young woman across from him, which he took as a good sign. Compared to last night, both were more conspicuously dressed as well. Claire had traded her form-fitting leather for denim jeans and a black tank top under a red leather jacket, with Redgrave wearing jeans as well, along with a black t-shirt under his green denim jacket. While he normally wore a scarf with this get-up, it was just a tad too warm for it today.

Before he could say anything else, one of the waitresses rolled up to their booth, pen and paper pad in hand.

"Heya, Tony! Ooh, y'got sum company today, I see!" the bubbly brunette Cindy espied with a bright smile to match her striped white and pink uniform. Flipping to a fresh patch of paper, the waitress inquired, "What'll it be for the cute couple?"

Claire's cheeks grew a lovely if faint shade of pink, making Tony's grin widen as he held up his right hand, index and middle fingers raised.

"Two of Fredi's specials."

Cindy quickly jotted that down, flashed them both a thousand-watt smile and said, "Be right back with 'em!" before promptly rolling off for the back of the bar.

The young woman watched the waitress go before looking back at the boy with a sly expression, a fine red brow arched.

"Friendly with the staff?" she asked, tone cool and leveled, but the youth easily caught her implication.

Smirk returning, he waved his hand while replying, "I leave a nice tip every now and then. Tends to make a guy popular around here."

Claire scoffed good naturedly before saying, "Is that what they're calling it now?"

That got a hearty laugh from Tony. This girl was quick-witted, too. Brains to go with beauty, it seemed.

Meeting her gaze, the platinum-haired youth decided to use this window of opportunity to get to know her better before Fredi's specials arrived. "So what brings a nice, studious college girl like you to a dump of a dive like Bullseye's?"

His date brushed a lock of her fiery hair behind her ear, letting out a deep sigh before answering. "My booze-loving roommate, that's what. She likes to 'loosen up' every now and then, so sometimes I have to pick her up when it's clear she can't get herself home safely."

The young man nodded thoughtfully, smiling genuinely as he stated, "Lovely and considerate. Though I take it you don't usually have to fight off your roomie's drinking buddies every other night?"

Claire laughed at that, shaking her head. "No, not usually. But my brother made sure I could defend myself if I ever needed to."

Ah, a protective sibling, he noted.

"You two close?" he asked.

The girl nodded, smiling happily as she replied, "Very close. He's helping me pay my tuition. I didn't want him to, at first, but he's part of this elite police unit - has been for the last year and half - so I don't argue with him about spending too much money on my education anymore."

Uh-oh. Cop brother, the young mercenary noted, his grin fading slightly. He might have to omit a few details of his own line of work, just in case...

"So what exactly do you do, Mr. Redgrave?" she asked suddenly, resting her chin on the palm of her hand as she studied him.

Tony was silent for a moment, resisting the urge to cringe at her calling him 'Mr. Redgrave,' while also trying to find the right way to explain to his date what he did for a living without having to use the terms 'mercenary' and 'gun-for-hire'.

His grin returned as it hit him.

"I'm a handyman. Odd jobs, jack-of-all-trades; that kinda stuff. Don't really have a 'permanent' place of employment, so I just go where my agent sends me," the young man explained coolly. "And seriously, just call me Tony."

It wasn't the whole truth, but it wasn't necessarily a lie, either.

Claire blinked, before giving him a furrowed side look.

"A handyman... who frequents bars and strip clubs for 'business?'" she asked, tone laced with disbelief.

Redgrave scoffed in response before saying, "I had to find my middleman, who had my half of the pay. He finds me jobs, takes a cut as a finder's fee, while I get the rest. Sometimes he gets a little too ahead of himself, and races off with my half before he's given it to me."

The young woman blinked, frowning as she took that info in.

"Doesn't sound like how an average handyman usually gets paid..." she mused quietly.

To that, Tony grinned. "Well, let's just say there ain't nothin' average about me."

Before she could respond to that, Cindy rolled back up, a tray in one hand with their order. "Here ya go, sweeties! Two of Fredi's specials! Enjoy!"

After setting the two desserts down, the young man's eyes ravenously took in one of his all-time favorite meal, and the real reason he loved coming to Fredi's. The man was a master of his culinary craft, forging the most delicious-

"Strawberry sundae?" the college student said aloud, looking at the dish in disbelief before looking back at her date. "You weren't kidding when you said you'd throw one of these in."

Redgrave laughed again, eagerly picking up his spoon while saying, "And it's my treat, sweetheart! Enjoy the best dessert in the city!"

He was about to dive into his own when he saw the girl hesitate.

"Somethin' wrong?" he asked.

Crap... he thought when he saw the redhead's expression.

"Well, um... I'm not really into sweets, you see..." she admitted.

Tony leaned back from his own sundae while replying, "Oh... Well, I mean, it's fine if it's not your thing. I'll just call Cindy over so you can order what you want-"

"No, no, you don't need to do that! I can pay for my own meal," Claire interjected.

He shook his head at that. "Nuh-uh. A gentleman always pays for a lady's meal. Like I said, it's my treat."

Seeing her expression was still apprehensive, a thought hit him, making his sly grin return.

"Tell ya what: take a spoonful of that stuff. You still don't like it, I'll let you order your own meal, but I'm still payin' for it. You like it, it's all yours, and I'll still foot the bill... What do ya say? Can't lose either way."

The young student mulled it over for a moment, before picking up a spoon.

"Well, one bite can't hurt, I suppose... Still feel bad you're footing the bill, though..." She murmured that last part to herself before scooping a bit of the ice cream up, and into her mouth.

Blinking after swallowing, her eyes widened in surprise. "Whoa... Hey, this is pretty good!"

"Riiiiight?!" he agreed with another hearty laugh.

"It's sweet, but not very bitter. And the ice cream's chilled, but not frozen over! Wow, this is really good!" Claire declared before taking another bite.

Laughing, the young man caught the proprietor of the diner, the man Fredi himself, washing a glass behind the bar. The owner gave a pleased smirk as he met Tony's thumbs-up before going back to his own business.

"What'd I tell ya?" he said as he reached for his own sundae. "Hands down, best dessert in the-"

But he stopped suddenly, blinking. It was suddenly too warm in the diner... And he could smell something. Something acrid, stinging his eyes, and choking his breath...

Smoke.

The temperature in the diner continued to rise, but no one seemed to notice it aside from Tony, all the patrons, waitresses, and Claire none the wiser as the blue clear sky outside became an angry, inflamed red.

And then...

Flames erupted all around him.

The restaurant became engulfed in flames, the various patrons, Cindy the waitress, Fredi at the bar counter, and Claire across from him all vanishing in a crackle of red, yellow, and orange, the cool air replaced with burning smoke, making it impossible to breathe.

Unable to help himself, Tony staggered back, realizing he was no longer sitting at his preferred booth but standing up, his blue eyes frantically looking from one inflamed spot to another. He was not at Fredi's anymore, but standing in the hall of a home in the midst of burning away. The white-haired man blinked, his breaths erratic, his throat threatening to close up as he inhaled mouthfuls of smoke and ash.

Then the fires flickered, the air rushing as something moved close by.

Tony's gaze snapped in the direction of the movement-

-and his eyes widened when he saw a beautiful blonde woman in a dark red dress leading a small boy, no older than eight, by hand to a closet. She hid him inside it, before stepping back, a pained smile briefly forming on her pink lips before it became a forlorn expression.

Her mouth moved, but the young man couldn't hear any of her words, the roar of the crackling flames drowning them out.

Unable to help himself, he moved towards the woman and child, his eyes lingering on her for another moment before turning towards the boy.

He was small, dressed in a red t-shirt and dark shorts, with no footwear but socks on his feet...

And his tear-filled eyes were an icy blue so much like his own... and his long, snow-colored locks were identical to his.

Before he could think further on this, the woman stood up and closed the closet doors before turning and dashing into the burning hall.

Tony bowed his head as he heard her voice, desperately calling a name unfamiliar to him...

And then the man closed his eyes in grief as her pleading shout became a scream of terror and pain...


His eyes snapped open, the images of the home consumed in burning flames flashing briefly in his mind, the sound of the woman's scream abruptly ending as soon as it had begun, her voice still echoing in his ears.

A single word slipped out his bloody lips, carried on the faintest whisper.

"Mother..."

Tony Redgrave blinked, quickly realizing just how uncomfortable his entire body felt, especially around the front of his abdomen and along his back, with several sharp shocks running through his left arm and both legs. Blinking again, his senses slowly waking back up with him, the red-coated mercenary became acutely aware of the familiar, coppery taste of blood in his mouth, the odor of it and the metallic tang of ozone in the air helping him come back to reality at a fast pace.

Glancing down at his right arm, he blinked again when he caught sight of not one, but several rusty pieces of rebar jammed through his abdomen, a few more emerging from various spots around his legs.

"Seriously?... Twice... in one day?..." he asked himself aloud, his voice low and faint, but carried more annoyance than pain as one would expect someone in his situation to react to.

Glancing at his right arm, and finding it - unlike his left shoulder - free of any impalements, the gunslinger slowly flexed his hands, trying to get feeling back into them. After a few moments, he was able to lift his arms with only minor discomfort. The real agony came as he slowly began pulling himself free from the metal, the bloodied youth gritting his jaw down hard enough to draw fresh blood as he slowly pushed himself forward inch by painful inch, more blood spilling from the various holes as he tore them open wider than they already were. The pain was beyond description, but he had a high tolerance for it, and it helped him focus on his goal of freeing himself.

Finally, with a terrible, fleshy ripping sound and a swallowed scream, the snowy-haired youth successfully yanked himself free from the various shattered pipes and rebars that had run him through. Redgrave collapsed on the floor with a heavy thump, the man coughing harshly as his body began spasming, the numerous holes in his flesh knitting themselves closed in rapid order, more of his blood splashing onto the floor and dripping off of the broken fixtures he had torn himself free of. When the fresh torrents of agony subsided, Tony pushed himself onto his knees before rising shakily onto his feet with a few stumbling steps.

Free from the broken machinery that had entrapped him, the gunslinger took in his new surroundings, finding himself in an empty open space. The ruined remains of an elevator was behind him, a broken railing not far from it with an open hole on the floor, and a door directly across from where he was standing. Tony only absently noted these details, however, his narrowed, ice-blue eyes scanning for something else he couldn't find. Or rather, someone else.

"Claire?" he called, voice rough and low.

Only silence, occasionally broken by the flicker of sparks from broken wiring from the crashed lift.

His gaze darted over the room in its entirety once again, but there was no sign of the college student, or the young girl she had taken into her charge to protect, both of them missing.

At first, all his mind could do was frantically grasp at the fading remnants of the all too familiar nightmare that haunted him in his troubled sleep. But like all dreams, it was already fading away the longer he stood awake. Only faint echoes of heat, smoke... and a woman's screams remained with him, and in short notice, they were gone as well, leaving him confused, and his heart heavy and aching.

The lingering feeling of harsh warmth that he had felt in that dream was still slightly present, making it briefly hard for him to breathe. In response, the young, bloodied merc unclasped the coat buckle over his tummy, as well as undoing some buttons on his black dress shirt, exposing his upper chest and upper abs, all while untucking the rest of the shirt from his pants. Reality slowly began to come back to him as he collected himself, rolling his shoulders to pop some aching joints as the mercenary recalled what had happened.

Tony had found Claire with the little girl, Sherry, in the basement of the orphanage that corrupt police chief had taken her to, and they had discovered an elevator deep beneath it... when that monster he had fought in the power plant under the police station had attacked him from behind, impaling him with its new claws. It had thrown him aside, charging for the two girls as they retreated into the elevator cart. The youth then recalled dragging himself up, and chasing after the beast as it knocked the cart off of its rails. They had landed in this new area, the cart destroyed, Claire thrown out of it and knocked senseless.

He remembered lunging for the monster, consumed in fury over its attack on not only him but his lover. The beast, however, had transformed into a newer form, becoming stronger than it was in their previous fight. With only a swat, it had thrown him aside, knocking him into the ruins of the elevator, impaling him, and leaving him for dead. His vision had gone from red to black, and the last thing he saw was the towering creature looming closer towards the terrified Sherry and a defenseless Claire...

Now there was no sign of either of them. No blood, aside from his own, to indicate any type of pitched struggle. No shell casings from any of his girlfriend's weapons. Nothing.

It did nothing to wash away his growing sense of dread.

Resisting the urge to spit out a string of curses, Tony instead looked himself over, checking for his weapons. The holsters for his three handguns, the Beretta, Colt, and the Lightning Hawk, were all still on his person, covered in a bit of blood, but perfectly usable. The Remington and Woozy had fallen amongst the ruin and debris of the crashed elevator. As he picked up the shotgun, the gunslinger saw the stock had cracked badly, more than likely from the impact of the crash. A single quick swipe with Woozy saw the broken part cut away, Redgrave slinging both weapons back over his shoulders where they hung across his back, ready for him to snatch at a moment's notice.

Glancing at the lone door across from him, he decided that it was probably the best place to start searching for Claire and the child. He had no idea how long he had been unconscious, so picking up their trail wasn't going to be easy. Drawing the Beretta as he stumbled forward just in case something unsavory was lurking behind the door instead, Redgrave grasped the handle, and found it unlocked when it turned easily.

Pushing the door open, the man saw that there was a small utility space currently doubling as an office behind it, with a computer atop a small table, two chairs in front of it - one tucked in, the other knocked over - with three large filing cabinets situated in the same corner. A second door was directly across from the one he had entered from, with a large storage container and rolling tray to its right, another table with various boxes containing files and other folders and such stacked atop it, and a large cabinet filled with plastic containers, folded towels, and blankets filling the boards.

Frowning, the white-haired man in red stepped further inside the room, lowering his sidearm as he did, icy orbs scanning the place over before he made for the only other door. Reaching it, he found, to his disappointment, that this one was firmly locked, the handle refusing to budge.

Stepping back and giving the door a quick study, Tony debated knocking it down and investigating further, but something in his gut was telling him it was a waste of time, his instincts telling him that Claire hadn't come through here. Turning towards the table with the computer, the mercenary ran the back of his gloved hand over the monitor, and when he felt no lingering warmth or tell-tale tug of static, he realized the computer had been off for a while, further cementing to him that no one had been in this room for quite some time. Remembering that broken railing and hole in the floor next to the crashed elevator, Redgrave decided that looking into that was the only logical follow-up towards finding his girlfriend. And so he turned away from the computer to face the door he had entered through-

-when he saw a whiteboard attached to the wall, a typewriter atop a stacked pile of boxes next to it. The board was covered with various notes tacked about its surface, and on the far side was a lone file sitting against it. Gaze narrowing with a frown, Tony approached the board, picking up the file, and flipping it open. At the very top of the first page in bold lettering were the words:

"Report: About "G."

The young man blinked, the simple letter sparking his memories. He recalled his brief conversation with the federal agent named Ada, and the tape recorder he had found on the body of the reporter working for her, Ben Bertolucci. The interview he had recorded had been with a woman scientist working for Umbrella, Annette Birkin, discussing the goal of Ada's mission:

The G-Virus.

Before he really knew what he was doing, Tony's eyes began poring over the words in the report.

The G-Virus clinical trial will be entering its final phase very soon. Before "G"—the new creature that will surpass humans—is born, allow me to predict a few things about its biology and biological functions.

Intelligence

The subject's intelligence will begin to drop immediately, with their linguistic abilities disappearing within a matter of days. Finally, they will lose their capacity to reason and their humanity. G will be a creature of pure instinct, driven only by a need to survive and reproduce.

Physical Abilities

Due to its unusually accelerated cell division—evolution—it will be highly adaptable to any environment. Furthermore, with its amazing ability to repair itself through regeneration, it will be extremely difficult to completely kill it with any conventional small firepower.

Reproductive Behavior

G's most remarkable feature will be its intense desire to reproduce. It will instinctively search out humans with DNA that closest matches its own and implant an embryo in them. But the chances of success are very low and if the DNA is not a close enough of a match, an underdeveloped G creature will be produced instead. I suppose the only ones who might be a close enough of a match would be any biological children of the subject, though...

As the mercenary finished reading through the brief report, his mind began to fill in the missing pieces of the mystery of the monster he had battled in the power plant: the same creature that had attacked him again before they reached the sewers, its form changing - evolving - into a more powerful state as it had.

When Redgrave had first thought the creature defeated and dead, he had wondered if it was some strange mutation of the disease Umbrella had inflicted upon Raccoon City - the 't-Virus,' as Ada had called it - but this report had given him the answer. It was not the t-Strain that had created that beast, but the G, the more powerful variant the woman needed to use as evidence against Umbrella.

Throwing the report aside in disgust, Tony made for the door, his mind racing as he continued to put the pieces together, giving him a much better view of the bigger picture. Somehow, both of Umbrella's viruses had leaked, the t-Variant infecting Raccoon's populace. But the G-Strain had only been inflicted upon one person, as far as he knew, but one was more than enough with how powerful that creature was.

As he shoved he door open to arrive back in the open area with the crashed elevator, the crimson-coated merc remembered the grisly remains of Chief Irons in the orphanage. He had made a wisecrack at the time, but it was now apparent that Irons had the misfortune of encountering the G-Carrier, who had implanted an embryo into the poor bastard. But because he wasn't a genetic match to the beast, the embryo had erupted from the man's torso while he had still been alive.

As Tony headed for the broken railing, his eyes suddenly widened, and the man himself came to a stop. Another memory flickered in his mind's eye.

After the G-Carrier had thrown him aside and charged for the elevator, he had heard Sherry's young voice scream two words.

"DADDY, NO!"

"'Daddy?...'" he whispered to himself in dawning horror. "...Ho-ly shit."

Sherry's father was the G-Carrier. The monster he had become was searching for her to infect her due to their relationship as father and daughter, that simple connection damning the little girl because of the virus's twisted designs. The thought filled him with a combination of nausea, horror, and growing outrage. That child had already been through enough by simply surviving the nightmare that Raccoon City had become. To have a monster with such sick intentions stalking her, on top of it being her own father...

As if he didn't have enough reasons to hate Umbrella more than he already did...

The need to find Claire and Sherry became more pressing with each passing second, and Redgrave refused to waste any more time thinking about Umbrella's evil schemes. The white-haired swordsman took another step towards the broken railing and the hole under it-

-when a massive wave of pressure washed over him.

He stopped in his tracks, his ice blue eyes widening as the already barely-functioning lights in the room flickered once before going out, plunging the room into heavy darkness. Then the darkness gave way, the light returning within a few more flickers. The pressure bearing down on him remained, but now he could feel he was no longer alone.

Craning his head to his left, Tony's gaze-

-was met by a pair of dark eyes colder than his own, their owner's face hidden under a swath of bandages wrapped tightly over his head, the suit he wore darker than the shadows he lurked in, a sheathed katana clutched in his left hand while his right was tucked in a pocket of his jacket.

The two continued to stare at each other in silence for a beat.

Then, the darkly-dressed swordsman called Gilver broke it. "...You're awake."

Tony held the mysterious interloper's gaze for another moment before closing his eyes, allowing his lips to curve in a smirk as he turned to face the fellow swordsman entirely.

"Watching me while I sleep? You're takin' this whole rivalry thing a bit too seriously, don'tcha think?"

Gilver's own eyes narrowed at that, the dark orbs watching the man in red's every move without fail.

"You've... taken a considerable amount of... punishment... since arriving in this city, haven't you?" he inquired.

Shrugging and waving his words off, the gunslinger scoffed, "Eh, I've had worse whackings from old ladies. Nice to know you care, though."

With that, the mercenary opened his eyes again, his smirk falling away, unwilling to verbally dance with this strange man any longer, and went straight to business.

"So it was you. You threw me my sword back at the power plant," he stated.

To that, the other mercenary nodded. "Of course. It seems in your haste, you... chose to leave it behind... Rather careless of you to throw aside such a valuable memento."

Memento? Redgrave asked himself, eyes narrowing in confusion.

He had carried that sword with him for as long as he could remember, but he had never considered the idea of someone leaving it to him before...

Gilver's voice broke Tony away from his thoughts, though his next comment sent a spark of panic through the young mercenary.

"But then again... you've always had trouble holding on to such precious hand-me-downs, haven't you?" he remarked as he gestured to the other man with his right index finger.

Hand-me-downs?... Wait, where's...?!

Before he could stop himself, the youth found his right hand moving up towards his chest, right on the spot just below his neck where the silver chain and red gem charm always hung securely...

But not now, as there was nothing there but his own bare skin.

Eyes shooting down to confirm his fears, Tony couldn't stop himself from hissing out a panicked and furious curse of "Shit!"

His head snapped to his left side, his mind no longer paying the smirking stranger any more attention. The man's icy eyes darted over the sparking pile of metal and rubble where he had previously been impaled upon, taking in the amount of shrapnel and various broken pieces of machinery in despair. He could only conclude that the necklace had fallen off at some point, either during the fall or the brief struggle with the G-Carrier.

However, now was not the time to go search for it. Not if he hoped to pick up Claire's trail. The thought of leaving behind one of the few possessions he'd had all of his life - one of the few things he knew was truly his - made his stomach lurch and his heart ache, but Tony knew he had to put his lover's life before all of that.

Forcing his obvious panic aside, donning the aloof mask he always wore once more, the crimson-coated youth gave a simple shrug before turning towards the section of broken railing he had originally been approaching, telling his fellow mercenary as he started to walk away, "Well, it's just a necklace, and they're a dime a dozen, anyway. I've got more important business to attend to, so take a hike. I'll buy you a beer next time I see you at Bobby's, but I don't need your help right now."

To that, the stoic swordsman gave a low scoff, favoring the retreating man with a narrow, bemused glare.

"'Business...' Is that what you call her?"

Those words froze the young man in place.

The corners of the gauze above the bandaged man's mouth crinkled as he sneered at the young mercenary's physical reaction.

Tony's eyes narrowed into slits as he spun around to meet his sneer with a furious glare. "...What'd you just say?"

The darkly-dressed enigma chuckled mirthlessly at his silent fury, balancing both of his hands atop the pommel of his sheathed katana's hilt before going on. "Imagine my surprise when I discovered that Anthony Redgrave, of all people, had other... diversions outside of the guild."

His next two words froze the young mercenary's outrage into icy fear. "Claire Redfield... That is her name, is it not?" He cocked his head as he continued to observe the red-clad man silently. "A spirited young woman... Headstrong, but capable... It's easy to see what drew you to her."

Tony took a single step towards the other swordsman, his eyes filled with outrage as he grit his jaw down, his shaking hands clenching into tight fists at his sides.

"You stay the hell away from her," he hissed.

His rival's sneer widened, his dark eyes flashing. "Oh... I'm afraid it's far too late for that, Anthony. We're past that point now."

The gunslinger's hand became blurs, his Beretta and Colt out in a flash, aimed for the other man's smug, bandaged face.

"What the hell did you do?!" he demanded. "You had no business going near her, you Curse of the Mummy reject!"

To that, Gilver only chuckled again. "Compose yourself, Redgrave. I merely gave her the means to move forward... And a few words of advice."

Tony's eyes widened in confusion, but his handguns remained leveled at him. "What'd you tell her?!"

The bandaged mercenary was unfazed by the young man's fury, only favoring him with a contempt-filled glare, a flicker of glee flashing in his eyes as well.

"Merely the truth she refused to see. That is all... I would impart that truth upon you, as well, but... it would seem you are still not ready to hear it yet."

The gunman felt his confusion adding to his frustrations, the stranger's cryptic words making no sense to him.

"What're you talkin' about?! What 'truth?!'" he demanded, his thumbs pulling the hammers of his handguns back to emphasize his threat.

The other swordsman moved his right hand back into his pocket, and turned towards the lone door in the storeroom, his back facing him, completely unheeding the threat presented by Tony's firearms.

"When I first arrived at Bobby's Cellar, I had... other plans to open your eyes... But I was wrong... I see now that Miss Redfield is the only way to ensure that you accept the truth about yourself, Tony Redgrave."

Gilver's words were as cool as ice until he spoke Tony's name in full, spitting the words out like they were foul poison.

The young man's eyes narrowed again, completely at a loss in regards to the meaning of what his rival was trying to say. "Enough of this cryptic, fortune cookie mumbo-jumbo! Just what the hell do you want from me, dammit?!"

The mysterious mercenary looked over his shoulder to meet his adversary's eyes once more, and as a light above him flickered, the man in red was shocked to see the shadows fall away from the bandaged man's orbs, finally letting Redgrave see they were of a similar icy blue to his own.

His next words were calm and cool, but no more clearer than any of the ones uttered before.

"I want you to wake up. To open your eyes to this fiction you've coaxed yourself into believing. When that happens... you will see the truth staring right back at you, just as it always has."

Tony blinked, completely at a loss at his words. But before he could say anything in turn, the lights in the room flickered out once again, making his gaze snap up from where the bandaged swordsman was standing. Hissing a curse, the boy quickly righted his line of vision-

But when the lights returned, Gilver was gone.

The gunslinger lowered his weapons as his gaze quickly looked over the room, but his instincts told him that his adversary was long gone, having disappeared in the brief moment he had looked away.

Hissing another curse, Redgrave could only ponder over the strange swordsman's even stranger words, trying to make sense of his talk about 'truth.' But he was no closer to understanding the bandaged bastard's motives in the slightest.

Slipping the Beretta and Colt back into their holsters, Tony found his thoughts drifting to Claire once more, as he could only wonder what his rival had told her... And then another question came to him. A painful one.

Why hadn't Claire told him she had encountered Gilver?

And then a scream echoed through the hole near the broken railing. A cry of terror that made the crimson-coated mercenary twist around as he recognized the voice easily.

His body moved on its own, diving down the hole to arrive in a cemented corridor, which became a gray blur as he dashed through and around it, landing with a splash in foul-smelling sewage. But he ignored the odor, his eyes searching, and finding what he sought.

Ahead, grasped in the massive, deformed paw of another mutant nightmare spawned from the viral apocalypse gripping Raccoon City above and below, was Claire, weakly kicking and struggling to break free from the creature's grasp. The monster's smirking face split apart, revealing a long inner mouth coated with squirming, seething maggots that moved to envelope the woman's own tear-stained face.

Tony's vision faded away, becoming a haze of red.

In the next instant, he was slamming into the mutant, Woozy drawn out, the dark blade cutting into the monster's swollen shoulder and head, causing gouts of glowing orange blood to splash into the waste-filled sewer water. The creature screeched and flailed, trying vainly to raise its massive arm to defend itself, but the ferocious swordmaster never let it, his blade cutting deeper and deeper into the tumorous growth on its shoulder. So furious were his swipes, halfway through, Woozy cut cleanly through the abomination's larger, tumored arm, severing it from its corrupt host. As the flesh was cut away, Redgrave's eyes, once more pitching a glowing gold and red, met a familiar orange orb hidden under the creature's flesh, the eye frantically twitching about as its host struggled to escape the demon tearing into it.

Grasping the broadsword's hilt with both hands, the swordsman in red plunged the barbed tip of the weapon deep into the orange eye, all the way to half of its shaft. The beast shrieked a rattling, warbly death cry, but never finished it before Tony tore his blade free from the monster's flesh, and cutting its head off by severing its long neck from its massive body in one clean, harsh swipe, the rest of it pitching backwards before collapsing into the dirty water with a heavy splash, more of its strange, glowing orange blood oozing out of its death wound.

With satisfaction, Tony swiped his blade in the air, getting whatever muck he could off before wiping the sword clean on the crook of his jacket's elbow, his still-glowing gold and red eyes glaring pitilessly down on the creature, even as his mind realized it was one of the G-Carrier's spawn, fully grown. Perhaps it was the same embryo that had torn itself free from Chief Irons's body.

A flash of red around the corners of his eyes saw Redgrave's bloody gaze return to its normal icy hue, and he spat contemptuously on the mutant's corpse before turning back the way he came, sloughing his way through the sewage. When he spotted a raised platform past a nearby mound of clumped-up garbage and waste, the youth quickly approached it, his heart soaring when he saw Claire, wet and soaked in dirty water, but alive and unharmed...

Pointing her revolver at him.

Tony glanced at the gun, then back to her.

Her grey-blue eyes were still shedding tears as the gun slipped free from her shaking hands. She looked at him in a strange combination of horror, relief... and confusion.

"T... T-T-Tony?!" she whispered shakily.

Smiling gently, he nodded.

But her next words stopped him in his tracks.

"B-but... You... You-you were dead!... I-I saw you...!"

And Tony Redgrave realized he had never considered that Claire would have seen his body impaled not once, but twice. First by the G-Carrier's claws, and again in the ruins of the elevator, run through from multiple angles. Losing blood the way he had alone would have sealed any normal man's fate. But not his.

No, Tony Redgrave was infamous among the mercenary guild that gathered in Bobby's Cellar for being the only man who could walk into a onslaught of bullets, and walk away alive and unharmed. Getting impaled was little more than an inconvenience for someone like him. Everyone at Bobby's knew this, and didn't bat an eye...

But Claire?... Claire knew nothing about his special abilities.

And now, here he stood before her. Lazarus risen from his grave. A miracle? Or something else?

Swallowing, lowering his head to tear his eyes away from her frightened gaze, Anthony struggled for words.

"Erm..." he mumbled, before looking back to her, grinning sheepishly.

"...Surprise?"


And just like that, the secret is out.

Tell me readers, how would you react to the discovery your significant other has supernatural powers? I like to think I'd take it in stride, but the situation for poor Claire and Tony may not be as simple...or accepting.

Would y'all believe this revelation was actually supposed to happen a lot earlier? WAAAAAAAAAAY back in Chapters Five and Six, actually. Claire was supposed to help Tony fight G1 Birkin, they would have gotten to the parking lot together with Sherry, and when they got ambushed by Irons, the fat jerk was gonna shoot Tony in the head, "killing" him right in front of Claire. It was supposed to be Tony who saved her from the Lickers after he woke up, at which point Claire discovers he's not entirely human, while the sequence with Ada was supposed to happen with Gilver (I had this hilarious idea of Gilver cutting Ben's cell door open, and Ben's hand off before he got killed by X. What do you mean that's not funny?). Gilver would have teamed up with Ada and left the station with her, while Claire learns the truth about our red wearing hero.

It was Da-Awesom-One who suggested I change that up, and honestly, I feel like it's a helluva lot better for it. Every change this dude has suggested and implemented has made this little story all the more fun to write AND read because it opens new paths I hadn't envisioned and lets me explore them. The man has also been hard at work adding bits of characterization to better flesh out our protagonists, and if y'all were to recheck out Chapter Five, we added a spot for Marvin to give him so closure as well.

I'd say were very close to the end of the second act of this story, all that's left is wrapping up the aftermath of Claire learning about Tony's abilities, finding the plugs, and saving Sherry, I think I can pack that all in the next chapter. Then it's on to the NEST, and the endgame.

While it's a bit premature to say for sure about any potential sequel/follow-ups to Made In Heaven, me and Da-Awesom-One have been discussing what could happen, but I've also pitched a new DMC/RE story to him that I want to start working on soon. So, I need y'all to be prepared for a potential slow down in updates for Made In Heaven if I choose to focus on starting that one (Don't worry, Made In Heaven WILL get finished before I actually start posting that new story).

I don't want to give any details away on the new story (Mostly because I'm still ironing 'em out so anything could change between now and then) but I will tell you it stars Nero instead of Dante, because I've been itchin' to write that boy again for a while now.

Also I just started Final Fantasy VII Remake...so if I disappear, that's why.

Drop a Follow/Favorite, and a review if you like! Also swing by Da-Awesom-One's page and give his stories the same treatment.

One last thing: Has ANYBODY figured out the naming theme of the chapters yet? I told Da-Awesom-One, but nobody has said anything about it yet so I suspect y'all haven't. The biggest hint is in this chapter. First person to guess it wins an imaginary cookie!